So before I begin this potential story I want to make some things abundantly clear to avoid any miscommunications and nip any assumptions from prematurely blooming into conspiracy theories.

Number one, this is heavily inspired by the Joker Cards made moderately well known by Insane Clown Posse. The whole idea of a carnival built up around darkness, death, decay, sin and all things that go bump in the night is too... rich an idea for me to ignore. No, for those about to ask- I am not and never have been a fan of the group, their label or affiliates. I would primarily blame this inspiration on a female friend of mine but I like this prologue-ish setup too much to "blame" her.

Number two, the figures that make up the six Joker Cards ARE going to correspond to certain characters.

Number three and most obvious, I have no ownership right to the Joker Cards or HP. OBVIOUSLY!

Number four, this is going to be a really dark Dark!Harry. If you don't like death, torture, violence or swearing, leave now.

Number five, this is going to be a bashing type story. Obviously. Dark!Harry is going to butt heads, maybe kill, with light minded idiots and the outcomes are not going to be in the light minded idiots favor.

Number six, I am open to SUGGESTION on who people think will be most compatible with Dark!Harry but if you're going to say stuff like 'He needs to be with person X for reasons x, y and z because it ONLY makes sense!' then be forewarned you will be promptly ignored. Keep in mind Harry will be STRAIGHT and not involved in a harem or multi-girl relationship(one girl being tortured and possibly enjoying it is enough isn't it?).

All that said...

Let the show commence!

"Harry Potter!"

The Great Hall, loud as it had been moments before, went graveyard silent in a split second.

Everyone knew about the members of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. Everyone knew of James and Lily Potter, the Lord and Lady of the House that guides the 'Light' ideologically aligned house; James as its Pureblood Master of the House and Lily the Mistress. Everyone knew of Rosalind Marie Potter, the fourteen year old Heiress, whom many said had the best traits of both her parents- her mother's eye color and her father's natural charisma. Yet, there was one other member to this family that was equally famous and well known though not for reasons many would assume he would have wanted them to remember him for.

The assembled mass of bodies, students and staff of the three schools, looked around in wonder. Well, the Hogwarts kids were at least. The story of how, then, two year old Harry James Potter disappeared July 31st, 1979 was something they all knew by heart; at least the facts publicized by the Potters fourteen years ago. The rewards offered for the lost scions return or information leading to his safe return had yet to be paid to this day. Harry James Potter, he'd be seventeen or thereabouts by now. Those who last saw him remembered him as a slightly chubby toddler with his father's wild unruly hair and hair color while having his mother's emerald eye color. His disappearance had been the biggest tragedy and sparked a nationwide search in 1979. The first born of a Most Ancient and Most Noble House disappearing in the middle of a day during a traditional debut of House Heirs? Nothing was more important than finding Harry alive and bringing him home. Even with lucrative promises of a handsome sum of galleons for the child's safety, no questions asked mind you, never saw the Potter Heir returned to his kin. Search parties scoured every inch of Britain and every failure only dimmed the prospects of finding young Harry alive. In the process, the breaking of James and Lily's heart was as heavy on those closest to them.

Fourteen years. Fourteen years and now the lost scion of House Potter's name was appearing out of the Goblet of Fire? What did that mean? Was it the confirmation that Harry was still well and truly alive? If so, how hadn't he been found? Where had he been for the last fourteen years? Why hadn't he returned to his family if the previous statements were true?

Any further thoughts were cut off as a bone chillingly, deep laugh echoed in the Great Hall. More than a handful of kids, Hogwarts kids to be precise, shivered visually and cast their eyes around worriedly. Then, as if to add to the chillingly oppressive aura that encompassed the hall, it began to rain fliers from the enchanted ceiling. The paper was jet black with red writing, some thought it looked like blood, and a chilling facade of a fortune teller with a large poofy hat containing a single blood red feather at the front of it.

'Come one, come all, to the greatest show to ever roam the Earth. The Dark Carnival has it all. Freaks, mystery and so much more. Starring The Ringmaster and his abominations, The Great Milenko and his Far East magical oddities, The Jeckel Brothers and their Fate Juggling performance & so much more. Come one, come all, and witness a show to die for!

Admission price: your soul' the flier read.

Dumbledore's lips were set in a thin line as he motioned Minerva to silence the crowd who spoke in quiet, fearful whispers. For the muggleborns he could understand the worry, soul magic was a most vile practice banned in Europe for centuries. For one to practice such heretical abominations meant they were born or raised in the Eastern Sphere where such vile abortions of magic were revered in most circles. A rather loud fireworks hex silenced his worried flocks of students. "Everyone calm down. While this is a most..disturbing development, the wards have not-"

"Are you certain that your protective wards have held old man? The Carnival pierces all protections once invited into another's domain." The voice that spoke was a sultry and seductive one but the malicious undertone could not be hidden as it echoed around the hall. "So many potential customers… Milenko and Ringmaster will be so pleased" the voice continued with a rather pleased purr. "So many sins… Where to start.. Lust, Gluttony, Envy, Wrath… It's a veritable buffet of sin!"

Nervous eyes, primarily from the Hufflepuff table, scattered left and right as the smell of ammonia began to rise in pockets. To their credit only a small percentage of the Hufflepuff student body actually peed themselves in fear. House of the Loyal they may be but at least their survival instincts, prominent by the fact their House animal was a damn badger, were sharp enough to dodge the pitfall that the Gryffindor idiots created for themselves as stunners were fired in-synch at every dark corner from trembling pale red-and-gold clad boys.

"Now now boys, that wasn't very nice!" From the darkness of the ceiling the most beautiful woman nearly everyone, even and especially the secretly gay wizards and witches, had ever seen dropped onto the Gryffindor infested table. Shock white hair fell to her hips, perfect alabaster skin gave her almost otherworldly shine, bright but criminally insane silvery-blue eyes reflecting a sense of psychotic mirth and especially busty for appearing to be in her mid twenties- she'd be the wet dream of all the young wizards and witches if it wasn't the dangerously long knife buried in the skull of a redheaded boy who was obviously dead. With the hilt of the knife flush with the boys top half of his skull and the dual sharpened, dual serrated edges stained red from the protruding flesh under his jaw she would have been surprised if he wasn't dead. "Well well well, the first soul is mine it seems. Gluttony, attempted murder, envy, jealousy.. Such delicious dark emotions." Licking her lips like the ghostly white ball escaping the boys dead lips were the most delicious thing she'd seen, her mouth opened absurdly wide and sucked it in. Not unlike a snake swallowing a bird egg whole, she gulped and swallowed the soul slowly savoring the sins infusing her person with energy.

The sound of kids retching filled the hall as all the schools staff, Hogwarts and their foreign guests, drew their wands in a flash.

"That's enough Riddle, you've had your fun. The Ringmaster needs your help setting up the tent and feeding the Hell Hounds. The bitch and her puppies tore the help limb from limb. Again. I am not reanimating the corpses again for your laziness to become my annoyance."

An artic breeze filled the room as a second figure appeared from thin air as if summoned. He was nearing twenty by visual guess, his height and his rather well muscled physique giving the hints, with an aura around his person that reeked of danger like the woman. His hair was soul sucking obsidian black with bright blood red streaks, dark green eyes like putrid necrotic flesh, what appeared to be an x-shaped scar covering the skin on over and under the right eye and what appeared to be a dusky complexion at first glance but was really a light tan after his form seemed to settle on the table beside the deranged woman he called Riddle. Dressed in skin tight black leather trousers, a black tank top, biker jacket and riding boots he had the whole 'I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-what you-think' look going.

"Come on Milenko, that bitch hates me!" Riddle whined as she ripped her knife out of the corpse. The shower of blood staining her dress, if the skimpy paper thin material could be called a 'dress', covered the surrounding students.

While the two figures had their argument, it was one sided on behalf of the woman called Riddle while the man called Milenko seemed wholly bored, Dumbledore froze internally even as he and the school staff drew their wands on the pair. There was no way that this person, the woman that was, was who he thought she was. Tom would never be reborn into a female body. Tom would never show the kind of deference to another considering his ego. Tom had, to his knowledge, never learned anything of Soul Magic beyond making Horcruxes. Yet, for all of those reasons circling his mind he couldn't help the niggling thought that it could be one of Tom's minions trying to ensnare the young man. "Who are you and how did you get here?" he demanded, the Elder Wand disillusioned to look like his natural wand bought from Ollivander's nearly a century ago, with the wand switching point between the two persons.

"Riddle, I will tear out half of your liver and drown the nearest fleshbag with your blood if you don't listen to me." Milenko's eye gave a barely perceptible twitch as his eyes narrowed. "Just because you can't die does not mean I can't make your immortal life as anguish filled as possible while you choose to tour with the circus" he said, words edged with malicious warning.

Riddle, deciding that cowardice was the better part of valor, disappeared into thin air.

"Spineless pain slut" Milenko said as his eyes rolled in their sockets. "You can call me Milenko, everyone does. As for how we got here, it's quite simple. We were invited by someone here obviously. The Carnival cannot enter magical grounds unbidden. Now what I have to wonder is by whom and why. I was having the best of times in the bayous of Louisiana in the American south. So many gullible humans willing to part ways with their 'immortal God protected' soul for the chance to see their future.." The sigh that escaped his lips was wistful as it was contemptuous and snide.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed at the last comment. "No one invited your dark magic abomination to these hallowed grounds!"

Milenko's eyebrow shot up into his hair."Magical grounds and hallowed at the same time? I'm much more tempted to desecrate it now than I already was before" he said with a devilish, almost borderline sinister smile on his lips. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a greasy haired man with a permanent scowl draw a secondary wand from a disillusioned holster strapped to his left forearm. Before the man could do anything he raised his hand and a dark-purple-almost-black spell escaped his fingers and impacted the grease balls chest in less than a blink. For a moment nothing happened and the wand drawn morons seemed on the verge of attacking him. Then, as if by the microscopic degree of the Earth's rotation, the man began to violently vomit blood; obsidian black blood. Even as the man doubled over in unbridled agony and the very visible popping of his vertebrae stretched his skin Milenko retained the sinister smile.

One of the red and gold clad Gryffindor kids, a Seventh Year and Head Boy for the current academic year, shuddered shielding the First Years under the table. "How did that..that freak and his freak friends get in here? The Goblet summoned the name of Harry Potter!"

Milenko froze for a moment as nearly a dozen curses impacted him sending him flying into the back wall. "Did someone say this artifact of yours summoned that poor sap Potter? That itty bitty little twerp whose soul we fed to the chimeras because he wouldn't shut the fuck up about 'evil this' and 'light that'?" he asked pulling himself from the pile of masonry.

Rage erupted across the Hogwarts staff faces, particularly Dumbledore's, and the entirety of Gryffindor table.

"His soul didn't make for a proper between performance snack for the filthy beast." Maniacal gleam filled Milenko's eyes as he brushed himself off and, with a dismissive wave of his hand, seemed to summon his spilt blood back into his body. "Though now that I understand more fully, let me do a full and proper introduction. I am called Milenko, mad mage of The Dark Carnival and resident exile of Shangri-La. Only survivor and practitioner of the ancient arts once taught in the halls of Shangri-La before its destruction. Master Necromancer and" putrid green eyes gleamed darkly "current incarnation of the One True Lord of the Dead and the Damned. Otherwise, the runt formerly known as Harry James Potter."

Looks of sheer horror froze the entire room as the windows of the hall shattered all at once raining glass down on everyone.

"As the Masters once said, Laotom. It has begun bitches, welcome to the nightmare." Before anyone could stop him, not that the adults didn't try, Milenko was gone in a waft of smoke.

Three simultaneous thuds, four if you counted the dead body of the boy who'd been stabbed through the head, were heard as three bodies fell to the floor in shock.

Just who were these three unconscious people you might ask? That was a relatively simple answer to figure out; James, Lily and Rosalind 'Rose' Potter.