It has been a while since I have posted something, and I will admit easily that I am not happy with the amount of time it has taken me before I could post this. I got myself a full-time job over half a year ago and I have been annoyingly tired ever since. My current job is also not something I enjoy (I actually dislike it greatly), but I have to stick around for at least two more months, and up to at least eight more if I am truly unlucky (I am strongly convinced that it will be the latter period of time). I finished this chapter while I was pretty pissed of at my teamlead (who is no longer my teamlead as of last Friday),and I am too tired to find all the mistakes. So there might be some mistakes I have missed.

Please let me know at the end what you think of this chapter. It might be rewritten in a couple of weeks when I am less tired.

Warnings: nothing really. Lot of death.

Enjoy!

Nature versus Nurture

Chapter 3

Memory…

oOoOoOo

He checked himself in the mirror to make sure his looks were perfect. Harry Potter had never been vain, or willing to look in a mirror longer than absolutely needed. Raito Yagami could have been called vain – and has been so repeatedly by one extremely scruffy super sleuth –, but even he hadn't been actually vain. He had known from a very young age that he would have been bullied for his extremely high intelligence if he didn't make sure that he was and looked absolutely perfect. It had just become a habit to make sure that he looked his very best.

His lips twisted into a pleasant smile, one that had always made Misa – and many other girls – swoon. His newly coloured greenish-amber eyes flashed in dark amusement and distaste as he remembered his former fiancée.
It was the day of the wedding of Bill and Fleur and he considered himself incredibly lucky he had never had to deal with the commotion surrounding a wedding before, as this one had been as chaotic as L's preferred work spaces.

He himself had been forced to stay far away from the Weasleys' gardens as magical workers had been working for days now to set up everything needed for the main event of the wedding. Everyone had been too afraid that one of the workers would inform the Ministry that Harry Potter was currently living with the Weasleys. His two best friends and Ginny had been asked to stay inside with him to make sure he truly stayed away from the garden.

But he was finally allowed out of the house and into the garden. In disguise.

They had prepared Polyjuice potion for him with some hairs from some red-haired, muggle boy almost their age. He had declined politely. He was more than capable of changing the way he looked with magic. Hermione had reminded him that it was very hard to change one's appearance with magic as one had to know the body they wanted to change into extremely well. He had just winked at her.

He smoothed the lines of his dress robes and shifted the chain of the watch he had been gifted on his birthday as he checked himself one last time. His hair was a familiar brown, and fell neatly and smoothly around his face. His face had become longer and thinner, with higher cheekbones, a slighter nose and a slightly different shape of lips and ears. His eyes had changed to a mix of the eye colours he had in his last life and the eye colour he normally sported in his current life. No one would recognise them now. He had chosen to make them slightly more narrow to give him a slightly more Asian look, but not enough to appear anything but to be of European descent. He had also made himself taller and thinner, making the muscles he had more noticeable.

He looked far more handsome than he had ever had before as Harry Potter, and far more exotic than he had ever had as Raito Yagami.

He nodded in satisfaction as he checked himself one last time, before he made his way out of the bathroom he had been occupying and down towards the kitchen.

"H-Harry?" a hesitant voice sounded from somewhere slightly behind him, and he turned around to face Ginny.
"Hello Ginny," he greeted her kindly, "what do you think? Inconspicuous enough?"
He moved away from the stairs and more closely towards her. He spread his arms wide in a theatrical move so she could see him fully.

"I wouldn't call you inconspicuous," she answered with a near breathless, high-pitched giggle he recognised as having heard before from girls who tried to flirt with him, "but I wouldn't have recognised you as, well you had I not known that there is currently no one else around except for us Weasleys, you and Hermione. Even your voice is different."

She sounded awed at both his new looks and the magic he had used. She made her way over towards him with a noticeable sway to her hips. He lowered his arms as he watched her come near.

"Ginny, Harry!" Hermione's voice sounded from below before she could do or say anything.
"We are coming!" he called back, before he turned back towards the stairs, "I'll see you in a bit, Ginny."

He might not like the flirtations of Ginny overly much, but he was happy with his new looks and he was happy with the attention it would draw away from him being Harry Potter. He was especially happy with the fact that only a handful of people would know just who he was. It was so much more easy to clean the rotten world if only a handful of people knew what he really looked like.

"Oh, and Ginny?" he turned back around just as he had stepped on the first step of the stairs. She moved towards him eagerly.
"Call me Raito."

He truly loved magic.

oOoOoOo

The Ministry had fallen. The minister had been killed, but not before their Lord had managed to extract the location of the Potter brat from his mind.

The man had fought hard, and many of his fellow Death Eaters had fallen at his hands. Their numbers had already shrunk drastically; especially with the amount of Death Eaters currently locked away in Azkaban, those who had died at the hands of the Order – all incidents of course, as he doubted that those goody-two shoes would actually kill someone – and the smaller number of werewolves as the large pack of Fenrir Greyback had fallen apart after his fall of the Hogwarts Tower.

But those who had been locked away in Azkaban could be rescued easily after the fall of the Ministry. And new people would join their ranks once they had publically prosecuted and executed Harry Potter.
But they actually had to get him first, and that was their second goal of the night now that the Ministry had fallen.

"We are only after Potter, his mudblood, and the Weasleys," their temporary commander barked loudly, "kill everyone else."
A blood thirsty grin made its way on his face. He might not have been allowed to join the Hogwarts team a handful months ago – and what a luck that had been, all the others had been captured or met their untimely demise – but he could finally help their Lord by killing some of the unworthy mudbloods, and the restrictive light wizards and witches.

"On my command," the Death Eater commanding them in their Lord's place barked. They all grabbed their wands, all tense in anticipation of a good bloodbath.
"Go!"

Pops sounded as every last one of them apparated away.

oOo

It was chaos as he landed. Someone had clearly warned the wedding guests of the fall of the Ministry and their impending arrival.

He fired a bloodboiling curse at the first person he saw – an older, blonde witch. She went down screaming in pain and he savoured the sound for a brief moment before he turned towards the fleeing crowd and send the killing curse right in their midst. The death of one of their own made the group scatter and he eagerly went after some of the younger members that went one way. One of his fellow Death Eaters joined him, and they shared a dark smirk before they both started to herd the smaller group to a place they could play with them properly.

He easily caught up to them and he was about to kill a young, beautiful – at least partly a veela – girl, but a nasty gurgle coming from his colleague and screams from his victims, who were suddenly covered in blood, halted him. He turned towards his fellow Death Eater, only to have the grisly but familiar sight of a torn open jugular be met by his eyes.

A soft whooshing sound alerted him to an incoming spell, and he managed to duck just in time to avoid being hit with a very familiar, very deadly, very dark curse. He remained tense and alert as he quickly followed the path the curse had carved in the air back to a single, youngish looking wizard.

He was clearly a foreigner, and – a flash of jealousy shot through him – a rather handsome one at that. His cloths were elegant and clearly expensive, not something he would have expected at a Weasley wedding.

"Ha-Raito!" a female screamed and the young wizard turned his attention towards the sound, only to be forced to move out of the way of an incoming curse. He sent his own curse towards the foreigner. And just like that, the younger one was duelling both him and one of his fellow Death Eaters.

He was good. He had to grudgingly admit. He managed to weave easily through their spells and curses and it was clear that he was just toying with them. Sharp, cold amber-green eyes set in an emotionless face studied their every movement, but without losing sight of the happenings around them, as became clear when the irritating brat moved out of the way of a stray spell.

"I tire of this," the boy's honeyed tone sounded more bored than weary, and in a quick succession he shot two yellowish spells towards him and his companion. Both spells hit their intended mark, even though they had both tried to duck out of the spells' way. It seemed as if the young wizard was not only capable of ducking, but was also skilled in reading his opponents' movements.

At first nothing happened, but it didn't take long before something started to hurt horrendously somewhere near his heart.
The last thing he saw before everything turned black was the satisfied gleam in the young wizard's eyes as he stepped over him and towards the thick of the battle.

oOoOoOo

"We didn't manage to get Potter or his friends, My Lord," the man in front of him – one of the lower level Death Eaters, and one of the few to have survived the near massacre that took place at the Weasley wedding – stated almost fearfully.

He hissed out an angry snarl just before he sent an overpowered Crucio towards the messenger.
"How is it, that I sent nearly thirty, capable men towards a wedding filled with students, old people and known light wizards," he started as he released the curse, "and only seven manage to survive, only to tell me that they were incapable of capturing one, measly school boy?"

"P-Please, My Lord, most of the wizards and witches present were incapable," one of the seven survivors stated as he prostrated himself in front of him, "it was one wizard who defeated the majority of us."
"He was dark, My Lord, and so very fast," one of the others added with a shudder, "and he didn't hesitate to kill everyone in his path."

"Show me," he ordered sharply, even as he levelled his wand on the nearest survivor, "Legilimens!"

oOo

He was hit with a barrage of sounds and flashing lights as soon as he entered the pathetic, cowardly mind of his follower. He recognised most of the spells, and it was easy to pinpoint who was light and who was dark just by looking at the spells they were firing towards their opponents.

It didn't take long before he noticed the wizard his men had mentioned. For one, because he was clearly as dark as they came and indeed as fast and capable of killing as his men had stated. The second clue was the fact that he was defending the light wizards and witches and actively and successfully taking down his men. Thirdly, was because of the dead wizards clad in dark robes and adorned with the white masks that showed them to be his men surrounding him.
He was also the only one who used spells he didn't recognise.

The boy's favourite spell seemed to be a yellowish one. He didn't recognise it, or the language the spell was cast in, but he had to admit that he did like the effect it had. It was slow-going, but it was clear to him that it killed the one it had been cast on slowly and painfully.

The young wizard was barely more than a child, and he reminded him of himself when he had been young. They were both handsome, both were ruthless, both were extremely dark, and both were brilliant fighters. And, while his eyes were cold and calculating, it was also very clear to him that his opponents were boring him and that he was actively playing with them as long as they were incapable of hurting the present light wizards and witches.

He watched on with something that was not dissimilar to arousal as the young wizard – boy was too much of an insult to the ruthless being that was only second to him – as he took down nearly fifteen fully grown and fully trained, dark wizards all by himself.

He weaved around spells with economic but elegant movements that seemed odd to him, but worked beautifully for the young, dark wizard. He was a marvel, and he wished nothing more than to have him on his side.

He leaned forward eagerly as the young wizard whirled around at a shouted, "Haraito!". He took note of the person who had called for the young marvel – the mudblood always following Potter around – only for him to shoot a bloodboiling curse towards one of his men that was trying to hurt one of the younger witches.

He watched on until the man whose memories he was watching was forced to leave or be killed.

oOo

"I want to know everything about him," he commanded with a dark hiss, "his name, his background, his friends and family, and the reason why he – a dark wizard – fights on the light side. Everything!"

The survivors bowed before him.

"I want him brought before me," he added sharply as he glared at them with narrowed eyes, "alive and unharmed."

oOoOoOo

She watched on in slight disgust as her best friend – disguised as one Albert Runcorn, which had taken more cajoling and begging than she would have believed – flirted heavily with Dolores Umbridge. She knew that they truly needed the locket the vile witch was wearing around her neck, but she strongly disliked the way he was getting it away from her.

Umbridge seemed to have completely forgotten about her – and the muggleborn witches surrounded by dementors she should be prosecuting – as Harry plied her with compliments regarding her pink clothing, her kitten-like patronus, her bloodline, and, of course, the locket.

Umbridge was eating his words right up, and it didn't take long before she handed him the Slytherin locket.

Harry wasn't slow in taking out not only the vile woman, but also the Death Eaters that were in the same room as them. All with an to her unknown, bluish spell he wasn't willing to teach her. He had assured her that it wasn't a spell classified by the Ministry as 'dark', but that the spell would take them out long enough for them to get away.

"Let's go," he ordered in his new, deeper voice as he made his way over towards her, "Expecto Patronum."

The silver form of a bony Thestral shot out of his wand and herded the now freed dementors away from them. She hadn't even realised that the Patroni that had kept them away had disappeared as soon as he had taken out their owners. She quickly added her own otter to help her best friend's new Patronus.

"B-but, the muggleborns!" she called towards him.
"We can take them along with us," he drawled, "but we have to hurry up. Our hour is nearly over."

Together they freed the small number of muggleborns and pointed them towards the right direction and away from the horrid room.
Harry slammed the door shut and locked it quickly with a thankfully familiar spell.

He once again cast the Patronus charm, only to send it away with some whispered words.
"I asked Ron to meet us in the atrium," he told her as he pulled her along, "or to send us a message if he can't get away."

She suddenly realised that he was acting odd. He wasn't acting the same way he had for the last two years, nor was he acting like he had in the first five year she had known him.
"What is going on, Harry?" she asked even as he pulled her harshly towards the elevator, easily catching up with the weakened muggleborns and forced her inside.

"Voldemort is here," he stated flatly but softly, his borrowed eyes cold and dark, "I, personally, really do not want either of you to have to deal with him."
Her eyes grew wide as the implications if they were to run into him became clear to her.
"Let us hope he is not in the Atrium," Harry said. She agreed silently with a nod.

Brief silence fell as the elevator went up.

"As soon as those doors open," Harry started loudly so everyone in the elevator could hear him, "wait for me to exit and or the first screams to start, than run towards the floo systems as fast as you can. I will keep them off as long as I can."
The muggleborns with them murmured weak agreements.
"The same goes for you, Hermione," he told her softly, "try to see if you can find Ron and drag him with you if he is there. If not, make your way towards the floo system on your own."
And that was the Harry she did know well, self-sacrificing until the end.

"But what if he is present?" she asked, "you can't handle him on your own. And we still need to find-"
"Just run," he interrupted her with an almost convincing, soft smile, "I will be right behind you."

oOoOoOo

Someone in the Ministry had spoken his name. There were only a handful of people courageous – or dumb – enough to do so, which meant he wanted to deal with them personally.
They had yet to be found, however, and his patience was slowly evaporating as the minutes ticked by.

He had just made his way back to the Atrium of the Ministry a handful of minutes ago and he had just instructed his more capable of followers how to handle when – not if – the intruders had made their way over towards the only place they could use to exit the Ministry, the Atrium.
The soft ting of the elevator pulled the attention of everyone present towards the elevator, only for most of them to turn their attention back towards their tasks as a familiar face – a higher ranking Death Eater and Ministry worker by the name of Albert Runcorn – stepped gracefully out of the elevator.

He made his way just as gracefully towards the thick of the crowd, but not too far away from the elevator. His eyes stayed firmly focused on his very capable servant. His movements were economic and measured. Too economic and measured. If one were to compare the man to a weapon, they would immediately think of a morning star: blunt, spiked, dangerous and deadly, but never graceful, economic or measured. Whoever this was, they were more like a small, incredibly sharp knife.

The man acted before he could order his men to deal with him. The killing curse flew from the man's wand towards the thick of the crowd and one of his more noticeably dressed Death Eaters dropped down. Dead upon impact with the curse.

Screams filled the Atrium and chaos ensued, and he barely noticed the small group suddenly running from the elevator that had never left as the man masquerading as Runcorn threw more deadly curses towards his servants and felled them one by one.

His servants – both those currently present for other reasons and those he had selected to capture the intruders – reacted with the same amount of violence and it did not take long before the entire Atrium was filled with flashes of light, fleeing people, and the dead bodies of those unfortunate enough to be hit by either side.

The small group that had fled the elevator when the fight had just started had used the chaos to flee the Atrium using the floo system, though he was sure that some had been hit by the flying curses.

But he did not care about a bunch of mudbloods. No, he had studied the fighting style of the wizard masquerading as Albert Runcorn – and whose looks were currently changing back to their original looks – and he clearly recognised the economic, beautiful fighting style of the intriguing young wizard he wanted on his side. It seemed that he did not have to go look for him after all.

The younger male's looks darkened slightly, before with a wave of the man's wand they lightened abruptly into the just as familiar looks of caramel hair and amber-green eyes. Either a glamour or a spell to remove the rest of the Polyjuice potion. He was exotic, deadly, dark, brilliant and he would belong to only him.

He swept forward from his position in the shadows and the Death Eaters that saw him first fell into formation behind him. He kept walking until he stood right in front of the single male fighting them all. His allies had long since fled.

He clapped slowly, but it echoed loudly in the large hall of the Atrium. The spells stopped flying as both sides fully noticed his presence.

The remaining civilians used the sudden lac of chaos to flee the Atrium. He ignored them in favour of the pretty puzzle standing in front of him. The young man had relaxed his stance at the sight of him, but though he appeared relaxed and not ready for a fight, he had no doubt that his puzzle could spring into action at the slightest twitch if needed.

"Thank you for the show, I am a great fan of your work," he started casually, as if they were discussing the weather and not the death of tens of individuals, "it is truly beautiful."
Something flashed through the other male's eyes, something he could not read fully but it was something wicked and amused and anticipatory but cautious.
"I appreciate the compliment. It is an honour, truly," he answered with a honeyed voice and a beautiful smile. All charm and innocence and youth and beauty, not dissimilar to a nundu on the cusp of adulthood.

"May I know the name of my newest enemy?" he asked him politely.
"You may call me Kira," the young wizard answered him, a small ironic smirk appeared on his face and his eyes flashed with dark amusement. He bowed shallowly, but in a practiced movement.

"You intrigue me, Kira," he told his lovely puzzle as he stalked further forward until they were only a foot apart. The young man did not seem intimidated by his greater height or the closeness to the darkest lord in ages. He was the first in nearly 3 decades.
"I live to serve," the green-amber eyed male stated with another charming smile. He wished the young man would truly serve him. He would make such a pretty addition to his army and his charm would help keep the masses in check.

"Do you know why you intrigue me?" he continued as if the young wizard had not responded, "you are a walking contradiction. You are a very capable, very strong, very ruthless, very dark wizard who is not afraid to kill if needed. Yet you fight for the light side who preaches the exact opposite of the way you operate."
"Someone has to make their hands dirty before we can live in a world that is cleaned from all the rot that has spread," the other male answered with a casual shrug and a dark gleam in his eyes, "and I appear to be the only one capable to do so."

"I could help you," he murmured almost seductively as he stalked even closer. It was on days like this that he missed his own former pretty face. It would have been so much more easy to convince someone to join when one looked like an angel. Though he did not doubt that the young beauty in front of him would not be very impressed with an equally beautiful face. He was probably just as used to manipulation through his looks as he had been. Nor would he be attracted or swayed by his power. He might be more attracted to his knowledge and his ruthlessness.

The young male's eyes gained a calculating gleam as they studied his face and eyes and something close to interest shot through his eyes so quickly he had nearly missed it, before his face was cleared completely. He kept both as honest and open as possible.
"Thank you for the opportunity," his young puzzle started after a couple of long minutes as he stepped back slightly and bowed once again shallowly. The mocking smile on his face showed that the bow was not one of respect, "but no thank you."

"You brat," one of his less intelligent servants snarled out, "our lord generously offered you a place at his side. To help him do the right thing and not be killed. Even after all you have done to undermine him. We will end you!"
"You do not understand, do you," the boy stated almost gently as took another step back and opened his arms almost dramatically as if to embrace everything currently in sight, "this world is rotten through the core. You, your lord, and the Ministry and everything they stand for are at the very heart of the rot."
A now familiar yellow spell suddenly shot from the young male's wand as he moved back towards his relaxed position of before. It hit the man who had dared to open his mouth with great accuracy and great speed.

"I will cleanse the world of this rot," he continued as if the man he had just hit was not dying just a couple of metres away from him. He looked slightly deranged, but dangerous and completely concentrated on his surroundings, "and I will lead this world into a period of peace and prosperity where crime, corruption and discrimination no longer exists. Everyone will be free to be who they are and everyone will be safe."

Some of his Death Eaters moved forward to capture or kill the young wizard and shot several spells his way. He easily ducked out of their way in those odd, economic movements he had seen before.
"I think I will start with this building," he stated lightly, as if he was not being barraged with deadly spells and forced to duck every which way, "Fiendfyre!"

A large, oddly shaped, winged, hideous creature with bulbous eyes and sharp teeth completely made out of flames flew from his wand. It cackled in the way only fire could, but it held a delighted tone as it made a couple of circles above the head of the wizard who had called it forth before it skimmed its fiery wings along the large, flammable banners that hung everywhere.

"Have fun with Ryuk," the young wizard stated casually before he turned into black smoke and flew right through the side of the Ministry with high speed and even more force, breaking both a complicated piece of magic and a crucial part of the architecture that held up at least part of the grand, underground building.

He tried to follow after him but the collapse of the side and the heavy, oily smoke of the cursed fire made it impossible to see where the young wizard disappeared to.

He screamed out his rage at the sudden loss of his pretty puzzle as the building around him was slowly destroyed by an oddly sentient creature made of fiendish fire that somehow managed to stay out of the range of all attempts to destroy it.

Even after young Kira's rejection, he still wanted him by his side.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.

Please let me know what you think.

~Marwana