A/N: Well, I'm back! ….Well…back in the Harry Potter section anyway. If you are and/or were one of my reviewers for my other stories, fear not! Now that the school year is starting up for me, I should be able to get back into the groove. For some reason, I find that distractions help fuel the creativity in me!
I will be co-authoring this story with a very good friend of mine. While I know she has a pen name, I don't know what it is, so yeah…
Anyway, ever since I read the Half Blood Prince (if you haven't read it just skip over this part) and saw how J.K. Rowling just stopped Harry and Ginny's romance, I've been dying to write one myself.
While this story is not dominantly focused on Harry and Ginny's love life, it will mostly be focused on that…well however much my co-author will let me go into anyway.
This story will be….different. So different that it could only come from our twisted minds!
Please bear in mind that this story is extremely AU, this is in no way like the books, and neither are the events that happened.
Without further delay, here it is!
A cold venomous voice pierced the darkness, impatient and obliviously angry. It was none other that the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or Tom Riddle, whichever you prefer.
He paced in his study, clutching a small leather bound book in one hand, his wand in the other. Torn pieces of paper littered the wood floor, as broken quills and ink bottles took up residence on an oak desk in the corner of the room. The emerald green carpet that adorned the floor had long since faded to almost white, due to frequent, if not mostly frustrated pacing by the always short-tempered Dark Lord.
A small, very feeble knock filled the silent room, almost as if the one doing the knocking didn't want to be heard. However Avery was to have no such luck.
"Enter!" hissed Voldemort.
"My…my Lord you w-wished to s-s-speak with me?" stuttered Avery, already on one knee at the Dark Lord's feet.
"Yes, yes Avery I do. But of course, you know the reason for that don't you?" queried the almost alto, but not yet out of tenor, voice.
"My Lord, I-I do not k-k-know what you mean…."
"DON'T TELL ME YOU DON'T KNOW AVERY! I TOLD YOU THAT THERE WERE TWO! TWO! AND YET IN YOUR INCOMPETENCE YOU CAN ONLY DELIVER ME ONE!" Riddle stopped shouting and dangerously hissed, "Where is the other one? …..WHERE!"
Avery, frozen in fear and terror could not reply. He knew that if he did not speak he would surely die. The problem was…how do you tell a psychotic tyrant bent on world domination that what he is looking for…well, to put it bluntly…didn't exist?
Before Avery had finished his inner monologue, there was an impatient growl as Riddle once again shouted, "ANSWER ME AVERY…WHERE IS IT?"
Feeling slightly put off that he would very likely die when he answered, Avery did the only thing that he could do in his hour of desperation…he told the truth.
"T-the seer s-s-said that it h-had not b-been made." Sputtered the scared Death Eater.
"Not been made? IMPOSSIBLE! HOW COULD THE BOOK SAY TWO IF ONE HAS NOT BEEN MADE? LIES!"
At this, the infuriated psychopath flung the book he had been holding across the room striking one of the windowless walls with a small thud before falling to the floor in an inanimate heap.
Avery cowered lower, now his face almost touching the polished wood floor.
"I-I give you n-no lies My Lord. That is the truth…I-I would n-never lie to you My Lord!"
There was silence for a moment as Riddle resumed his mad pacing. Then he stopped. Avery gulped, hoping against hope that he wouldn't bite it just yet as he lifted his head from the floor.
In a flash, Voldemort's blood red eyes were locked on Avery's. The Death Eater felt himself fly back and crash into the wall behind him. He felt something crack but ignored it, as he felt an even greater pain in his head.
He could see the recent muggle killings; he could see the face of the old seer as he questioned her relentlessly. Then as quickly as the sensation had begun, it stopped.
Avery fell to the floor in a disoriented heap.
"Get out Avery." Ordered Voldemort, deathly quiet, "Now."
Not taking another chance, Avery clumsily scrambled to his feet in a flurry of limbs. He turned and nearly tore the door open as he left, never once looking back.
Now alone in the darkness of his study, Tom Riddle slowly crossed the room and bent down to pick up the decrepit brown leather book. He looked at it, torn and tattered, slowly ran a pale hand over it.
His fingers glided across the front, back and spine of it, feeling each of the engravings that were embedded into it.
"Where is it?" Riddle queried again, "Where can it possibly be? Or is there something that you are simply not telling me?"
Voldemort sat down in an ancient, yet still surprisingly comfortable armchair by the fireplace, where the last of the embers were slowly dying down.
"Where are you?" he asked nobody in particular yet again, "Where are you?"
The rain roared outside as lightning flashed and thunder rolled violently. The already strong wind only seemed to be gaining strength, as it made the windows of the Hogwarts Express rattle and shake.
"Wow, this is really bad weather." Ron stated bluntly, as he was to preoccupied with watching the storm with his face pressed to the window.
"Well that's the bloody understatement of the year." Harry replied, shaking his head at his easily distracted friend.
"They said that this was the worst weather that this part of England has seen in a long time and that it probably won't lift any time soon." Hermione stated knowledgably, whilst knitting a few small hats to occupy herself, seeing as she had finished, Hogwarts, A History for the umpteenth time.
Eyeing the lumps of wool Hermione had dubbed hats, Ginny asked, "Hermione, you're not still on about that spew stuff are you? I could've sworn you were over that stage!"
"It's not spew! It's S.P.E.W.! How many times must I tell you…."
The enraged know-it-all was cut off as the compartment door opened. Acting on instinct, Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, wands already in their hands.
"Put those toothpicks away Potty, you as well Weasel King." Drawled the unmistakable voice of Draco Malfoy.
"Make us Malfoy!" Harry challenged.
"Relax Potty, I just came to get Granger."
"What do you need her for?" Ron asked angrily.
"Blimey Weasel don't get your knickers in a twist." Draco replied while rolling his eyes in annoyance, "Isn't it obvious? Or are you just that thick?"
Ron turned red, in anger or embarrassment the occupants of the train didn't know.
But as Ron was about to retort, the train gave a sudden jolt, sending Harry and Ron flying, as the train came to an abrupt halt. Ron into the wall and Harry, well, let's just say that Harry was happy with the outcome.
The lights flickered suddenly then died. Silence eerily seeped into the compartment. However, there was no screaming, from the five teens in the compartment or from any of the other occupants of the train.
After a few seconds of silence, Hermione seemed to snap out of the momentary lull first.
"Is everyone alright?" Hermione asked.
"I'm fine." Ron said weakly, probably nursing his head.
"I'm…er..f-fine." Ginny stuttered.
"Ginny? What's wrong?" asked Ron, suddenly aware of things.
But before Ginny could answer, another voice spoke, sounding almost like it was in a daze, "Am I dreaming? Soft…."
"HARRY! GET THE BLOODY HELL OFF MY SISTER!" Ron bellowed.
"Can you actually see?" Hermione questioned.
"NO!" Ron continued yelling.
"Then how do you know that Harry's on your sister?"
"'Mione, please! You're a smart girl. Why else would someone who's just been flung off his feet as abruptly as we were say "Soft?""
There seemed to be a commotion on the opposite side of the room and then,
"Oh Ginny, I'm sorry I didn't m-mean, I mean not t-that it was b-bad but…" Harry's embarrassed voice stuttered.
There was a giggle which Hermione suspected was Ginny. "S'alright Harry. Nothing you could've done about it."
"Like hell he couldn't!" Ron raged.
"Malfoy?" Hermione asked to the darkness. There was no response. "Draco?" Still nothing. "Draco?" She asked again, this time voice slightly cracking.
A strange, bizarre breeze of cold wind rose from the darkness, wrapping itself around the four conscious teenagers.
Then, there through the parting darkness, Draco stood, with an eerie glow to his pale skin that was illuminating the rest of the compartment. His usually gray eyes shone a vibrant royal blue. All of a sudden he spoke, but it wasn't in his normal, drawling tones, the words that came from his mouth were spoken with a sharp and abrupt speech.
"Two of blood, Five of purity,
And one who is the heart of the Trinity,
"The gray-eyed seer surrounded by ice,
The green-eyed hero who has rivals thrice,
"With the brown-eyed fire and blue-eyed duo,
Where love is good, and Weasels are a pair to yet be understood,
"Two will fall at the hands of the cold,
Four shall remain, their end untold."
Draco fell to his knees with his eyes closed.
The others sat, or in Ron's case stood in the darkness, their eyes filled with shock, transfixed on the pale figure on the ground.
Suddenly, the train began to move and the lights flickered on, the only thing that hadn't changed was the continuous sound of the pelting rain as it rolled off the sleek surface of the now moving train.
"Sh-should we put him back on the seat?" Hermione asked meekly, the question aimed at the others in front of her.
Harry blinked, "Uhh…yeah, yeah. Ron help me. Let's put him over in the corner."
Ron nodded wordlessly as he stepped over Malfoy's fallen form and helped Harry move the body to an empty space.
When he was over the seat, Ron dropped his half, causing Malfoy's head to hit the cushioned seat rather hard.
"Careful!" Hermione yelled.
"Geez Herms, he's already unconscious, we can't knock him out again." Ron grumbled.
"I wouldn't put it past you. Just be careful." She responded.
A faint "fine" was heard from Ron.
Silence once again reigned over the occupants. They heard loud conversation from the hall. It appeared as if their fellow students hadn't even noticed the stop or the black out.
The air around the five teens was mixed with fear, worry, puzzlement, and a small drop of jealously, thrown in for good measure.
However, none of them spoke another word until the train slowed to a stop at the station in Hogsmeade.
Dumbledore looked outside his office window, catching sight of the long procession of black carriages that made their way towards the castle, led by the skeletal thestrals.
His office was cloaked in darkness, as he was about to head down to the feast. The moonlight that could make its way through the torrents of rain caused many of his knickknacks and trinkets to glow slightly in the dark.
The pictures that were usually vibrant with life were empty, seeing as their occupants had long before made their way through other portraits to greet the students.
There was a small frown on the aged Headmaster's face. All notes and feelings of happiness died with the now cooling ashes of the fireplace. As Dumbledore stood, gazing at the approaching caravan the twinkle that usually accompanied his bright blue eyes was gone.
The normal healthy color in his cheeks had turned gray. His eyes flicked to each drop of water that landed on the window.
Softly, as soft as his voice would allow he spoke in the empty study, voice full of sorrow and worry seeing as his time here was slowly but surely coming to an end.
"The end…has finally begun."
The words echoed soundlessly through the room, heard only by the darkened silence that had taken over so long ago.
A/N: And there you have it folks, my first attempt at a chapter of a HP fic! Well…what'd you all think? Good, bad, crap? My co-author and I run on healthy responses and fresh questions. Please R&R!
Chapter two is underway and should be out…well, next! I've found that if I make promises I never keep them…but I will say that neither I nor my co-author will let this story die, and no update shall take more than a month.
Please, please, please review!