DISCLAIMER: This disclaimer goes for every story I write and for the rest of this story that you are about to read. I DO NOT own Harry Potter, that honor is all JK Rowling's. Once again, I DO NOT own Harry Potter!

The Beginning of Chaos

~ = Dementor tongue

§ = Parseltongue

Chapter One

The four year old boy was bloodied and bruised, with a face swollen beyond recognition. His skin had a slight tan and his eyes were an unearthly emerald green. The boy's uncle, Vernon Dursely, was currently giving him his daily beating.

"You're a useless, parasitic, waste of perfectly good money! No wonder your parents went and got themselves killed, it was just so they could get away from you!" Vernon shouted, not noticing the sudden change in the boy's eyes, nor the change in his posture; not knowing that the boy had finally snapped until it was too late.

Harry Potter calmly stared his uncle in the eye, and whispered one word, almost inaudibly, "Die…" Vernon's body immediately became rigid and blood began to seep out of every crevice on the man's body, quickly draining him of his blood. The more the robust man bled, the more Harry's eyes got red; until eventually, the man died. The man hadn't even let a single sound escape his mouth, due to it being so full of blood.

The boy, now with blood-red eyes, kicked the fat man's limp body, before walking to the kitchen, where he knew for a fact held his soon-to-be-dead-cousin, Dudley, and his also-soon-to-be-dead-aunt, Petunia. As he walked into the room, leaving bloody footprints, the lady screamed at him to clean up the mess he made, evidently not recognizing the mess as blood. Harry slowly looked into her light green orbs and whispered that single word, yet again, "Die…"

Petunia's head began to swell, making her shriek in agony until, finally, her head popped like a bubble, sending blood and brain all around the room, before she fell limp; dead.

He then calmly turned his head to his now petrified cousin, and looked him in the eye, before for a third time whispering, "Die…"

Unlike the other two, Dudley's eyes simply rolled back into his head.

Harry smirked evilly, his new blood-red eyes glistening with a sickening satisfaction and a morbid glee. Certain knowledge began slithering into the front of his mind, making him grin and click his fingers. Immediately, all the blood, brain, and bodies in the house dissipated into nothingness.

Finally, he went back to his cupboard under the stairs and grabbed his lone belonging; a picture of his parent's smiling as the baby him in a beautiful park. The boy's memories of that day danced in the front of his mind, purposely taunting him and what he could never have. He remembered all of it, his mother's loving words, her pleading for him to be spared, her death, and finally the incredible amount of hatred that welled up inside him when he saw his mother's limp body fall to the ground. He remembered the monster named Voldemort trying, and failing, to kill him, and dying by his own spell, leaving a scar on Harry's head. He remembered how his new scar flashed the darkest of blacks before fading into oblivion, and how from that point onward, he had immense magical knowledge and could speak to snakes. Another change, or at least he thinks it's a change, was that he could absorb all the knowledge in a book, similar to how a sponge absorbs water. The last change was that he from then on knew everything one could know about dark magic, including all existing curses.

Meanwhile at Azkaban…

"What the hell is happening with these damned Dementors? Expecto Patronum!" An unknown auror shouted as he was attacked by one of many vicious, soul-sucking Dementors.

"I don't know bu― AHH!" Another auror responded, before being ripped apart by one of the enraged creatures.

"DAWLISH!" The first auror yelled, as he raced toward the eviscerated body of his friend and partner. Unfortunately for him, that was all the distraction the Dementors needed as they swarmed upon him, kissing him and stealing his soul.

At the same time, all of the other aurors were experiencing the same fate at the hands of different Dementors, until eventually, every auror was dead or soulless.

At this point, all of the Dementors flocked to the center of Azkaban Prison, to discuss what happened. As they all settled in, the eldest of their race spoke for all to hear in the Dementor tongue, "~My fellow Dementors, the return of our long deceased lord has occurred! All we must do now is seek him out, and bring him here so we can finally break free of that wretched Ministry of Magic and take our vengeance upon all who have sought to control us!~

"~We must all scour the muggle world in the area of Little Whinging, where our lord is residing! We will know our lord when we find him! We must hurry, before that damned Ministry sends more forces at us! We must recover our lord and bring him where he belongs, only then, will we be able to have our vengeance! So go, my brethren! Go and find our lord and return him to us!~"

At the Dementor's last word, every Dementor fled to Little Whinging so they could finally be free and return to the service of their long deceased lord, Azkaban.

Back with Harry…

Harry was pacing back and forth inside his relative's home, thinking of what to do next when a new piece of information wormed its way into his mind. His ancestry.

He knew all about ancient magical families, but he had no clue he was a descendant of so many. Harry hadn't been aware of just whose heir he was. The fact that he was the Potter heir was big enough, but couple that with his other discoveries, Potters be damned. Harry was the sole heir of many ancient, and long thought dead, lines. He was the sole heir of the Houses of Potter, Black, Peverell, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Drakul (A/N: I got this idea from the author of Harry Potter and the Heir of Magic, so let it be noted), Azkaban, and last but certainly not least, Emrys.

The House of Potter was self-explanatory, as his deceased father was known as the last Lord Potter, so it was only natural that Harry would become Lord Potter. The others, though, came as a huge shock to the intelligent young boy. The knowledge he recently received told him how and why he was the heir of each, but that didn't make it any more believable. He was the heir of the House of Black through his godfather, Sirius Black, who wrote it explicitly in his will that Harry was to be his heir, and seeing as Sirius Black was thrown into Azkaban, that made Harry the new Lord Black. The House of Peverell wasn't too much of a shock, however. He knew his father was a descendant of the youngest Peverell son, as his father owned the legendary Deathly Hallow invisibility cloak while he was alive. Harry did not expect, however, that he was to become the next Lord Peverell. As for the House of Gryffindor, he knew his father was supposedly a descendant of the House of Gryffindor, but, yet again, Harry had no clue that he would be the next Lord Gryffindor. As for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, the Potters married into the ancient families, making Harry a descendant of both. However, once again, Harry thought that there were still more descendants that would be the ones responsible for taking up the mantle of being the lord of those houses. It seemed, however, he was wrong, and that he alone was the last descendant, thus making him the last heir of those houses. After that is where things got really weird. Harry, was apparently, the next Lord Slytherin by right of conquest, and thus was the heir of the House of Slytherin. As for the House of Drakul, which was thought to have died out two millennia ago when they were cursed into becoming vampires, Harry was apparently, somehow, a descendant of the house, and, as he was still human, inherited everything that was once part of the House of Drakul. Ranging from their wealth to the properties, he got it all, including the title Lord Drakul. For the House of Emrys, Harry was apparently simply picked by Merlin to be the heir of his house a long time ago. Harry didn't know why, nor did he really want to find out. As for the House of Azkaban, Harry had no clue as to how he was the heir of that house. He just apparently was. He was sure that the House of Azkaban died with the last Lord Azkaban, nearly four millennia ago, who had created the prison of Azkaban and the race known as the Dementors.

Harry was jolted out of his thoughts by a strange being, cloaked in shadows with flesh and bones for hands, approached him. Harry simply tilted his head a little and began to examine the creature. Harry was pretty sure he knew what it was, but that didn't make him any less intrigued. The creature, which he believed to be a Dementor, was wreathed in shadows and took slow rasping breaths. Harry was pretty sure the Dementor was inspecting him, and wondering why the hell he wasn't shivering.

"~Lord Azkaban, long have we awaited your return.~" The Dementor said in a funky language that Harry, oddly enough, could understand.

"~Please, do explain to me how I am Lord Azkaban, because as far as I know, the last Lord Azkaban had no descendants. Also, do tell me as to why I am not shivering. Is it because I am supposedly Lord Azkaban?~" Harry questioned, interested in what the Dementor would say in response.

The creature continued to take raspy breaths, until it finally bow, and whispered out, "~You are Lord Azkaban, as you can speak our tongue and can withstand our chilling affects. As for how you are Lord Azkaban, I am not sure. My race is well aware that the original Lord Azkaban had no children, thus having no descendants. He did, however, tell us that one day, he would have and heir, and his heir would take control of the world and deal with the pathetic Ministry of Magic. We have waited over four thousand years for your return. Not so long ago, we began to get impatient, and we joined the one known as Voldemort, simply assuming he was Lord Azkaban. However, we quickly discovered he was not, as he was constantly bickering and refused outright to return to his ancestral home of Azkaban. We were foolish to think he was our lord, he could not even speak our tongue! You, though, you can speak our tongue, and you can resist our chilling personalities (A/N: Pun intended heh). We were made aware of your return not even an hour ago, and we disposed of the wretched aurors who dared try and stop us from reaching you. We wish to return you home. Azkaban has many books and knows many different forms of magic, as it is alive, and only responds to your commands. Will you do me the honor of allowing me to take you home, my Lord?~"

Harry was quiet for a minute, deep in thought, on one hand, his parents were a light side family, on the other hand, he controlled the entire race of Dementors and Azkaban only responded to him. The temptation was simply too great. He could always take over his assets from his other ancestors whenever he felt like it. With that in mind, Harry stared at the Dementor, and nodded. Resulting in the being reach forward, taking a firm grip of his arm, and shadow travelling him back to his ancestral home of Azkaban.

Meanwhile at the Ministry of Magic…

"Minister Fudge! We have to send some aurors to investigate Azkaban. We have not heard back from the aurors posted there for quite some time. Also, it seems as if every Dementor has congregated to the area of Little Whinging. What shoul―?" Kingsley Shacklebolt was saying, before he was cut off.

"Auror Shacklebolt, it seems like the Dementors are heading back to Azkaban Island. I was about to confront a group of five with two other aurors with me, when they suddenly turned around and disappeared into the shadows, more than likely to Azkaban. So now we don't have to worry about the Dementors attacking innocents. My question, however, is why they were out there in the first place? What motive could the Dementors possibly have to travel to the area of Little Whinging and then abruptly leave?" A different auror finished, after having run to catch up to the minister and the senior auror.

"I do not know, but my main concern now is the safety of the aurors at Azkaban. Why haven't we heard from them for so long? Something is going on, and whatever it is, I'm sure that I am not going to like it," the senior auror concluded.

Meanwhile at Azkaban…

"~We are so happy that you have finally returned, Lord Azkaban. We are yours to command, my Lord.~" The oldest Dementor exclaimed happily to Harry.

As a result, Harry went deep into thought, before finally saying, "~I will take command as Lord Azkaban, however, I want you to take care of everything for now, as I am simply a child. I will need somebody to show me a library, my living quarters, and a place that I can go to so I can talk with the citadel of Azkaban.~"

"~It will be as you wish it, my Lord. I will take you to your quarters and the library, meanwhile, the rest of us will get back to doing what we were doing. As for where you have to go to talk to the citadel, it doesn't matter, you can talk to it anywhere. One last thing, though, my Lord, before I take you to your living quarters and then the library; what should we do if any aurors attempt to come to take the prison? The easiest solution is for you to simply ask the island to 'disappear' until you are ready for us to come out of hiding. Also, what about the prisoners?~"

"~I will ask the island right now, my friend. Oh, Azkaban island, will you please hide yourself from, well, everybody, until I say otherwise? Thank you. As for the prisoners, I do not know, yet. We will find that out later. I thank you for your loyal service and the precious information you have provided for me. Now, where's the library? I want to read, while I may be a kid, I'm a damn smart one.~"

"~Of course, my Lord. Follow me.~"

A/N: Toying with a new idea, I couldn't help myself. I've been planning to let it known that from now on, I will be increasing the lengths of the chapters I am writing. The reason they were so short before is because it's extremely uncomfortable to type for a long time on a laptop.