Chapter 1

A/N: I own a computer, a stick of Chapstick, and a pair of Batman socks, but unfortunately, I do not own HP or its characters. Now! On with the story!

April 24, 2007: Hey you guys… I've decided that I am TOTALLY unhappy with this fic. It is the EPITOME of bad writing, so I'm going to go back and edit it; ONCE AGAIN. Just bear with me… once I get it to where I am content, I will possibly write more chapters!!

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Hermione Granger, the Princess of Gryffindor, was examining herself in front of the mirror after a most refreshing and cleansing shower. She was sky clad of course, so all of her gorgeous endowments were visible. Her bronze glowing skin from her recently ended summer vacation in Italy, her perfectly sculpted stomach from countless sit-ups, her rounded and curvaceous figure, and her lovely chestnut hair. She was not vain at all, she just was happy with her body and did not mind looking at it or shirking away from the mirror that reflected it. What was the point of owning this body if she wouldn't appreciate it?

She smiled to herself, and took one last look before turning around to get dressed. As she did so, something dark on her lovely hip caught her eye. It appeared to be a tattoo, but she knew that she had never had one given to her. She was almost positive it was not there yesterday, as these inspections were mostly a daily occurrence. As she studied it, she saw that there were three circles inside of each other, and they were intersected by a single triangle. It looked unfamiliar. What did it mean? It bothered her, but as she thought about it logically, there was nothing she could do about it from her dorm room; she would have to go down to the library and do some research. With that in mind, she pushed it firmly to the back of her thoughts, and went to get dressed.

She quickly threw on a pair of blue jeans that hugged her bodacious body, and a rather flattering black camisole (there were no classes today; it was a Saturday) before hurrying down to the library. She took the back passages that could, on a bad day, cut off five minutes of travel time. No one saw here as she hurried across the castle.

Upon entering the library, she tread lightly upon the carpet, and headed to a row in the back of the library, where the dusty books simply existed. Dragging her fingers across the neglected spines, she finally picked up a book that caught her eye. It was a book called Signs and Symbols, which was solely pictures and their meanings; unfortunately, she found nothing to help her in her quest to understand the discomforting marking on her hip.

Throwing that book aside (So unlike her!) she chose another one. Again, it provided no help. After this process went on for sometime, going through at least a dozen specific and general books, she drew the mark onto a piece of parchment, and then showed it to Madame Pince, the resident librarian. Immediately the woman's eyes bulged, staring at the marking that Hermione had shown her.

"Could you help me find this, Madame?" Hermione asked, desperate. She dragged her fingers through her thick sable hair, pulling it away from her face, looking frustrated.

"Where did you find this?" The other woman asked slowly, focusing on Hermione once again, pulling her eyes away from the scrap of parchment.

Quickly lying, Hermione said she just had the vision in a dream, and it had piqued her interest. Madame Pince visibly relaxed, nodded, and went to a shelf to retrieve a book. She came back, holding it the way a new mother would hold a child, and handed it delicately to Hermione. It was entitled Dark Lores and Myths.

"Can I check this out Madame?" She asked. "I'd like to read it in the privacy of my own room."

"I'm sorry Miss Granger, it's a reference book. It doesn't circulate."

"Please? I promise I won't mess it up." She put a look onto her face that she knew no one could resist, male or female.

Madame Pince slowly acquiesced, trusting Hermione from her previously exemplary behavior that the book would return unharmed. However, she was only allowed to have it for twenty-four hours.

Thanking her profusely, Hermione practically ran out of the library. Right out the door, in the corridor, she bumped headfirst into a shady figure standing in the shadows.

"Watch it Mudblood. Forgot how to walk on your own?" A low voice said, laced with menace.

"Just stay out of my way Malfoy, or I'll finish the job Professor Moody started," Hermione returned evenly. She no longer put up with his taunts, forcing her to hang her head in shame. Her body wasn't the only thing that had developed over the years; her confidence and bravery had, too. Satisfied as she saw the blood drain from the blonde's face at the memory of being transformed into a white ferret, she quickly went up to the Gryffindor tower, thankfully meeting no one, as it was still relatively early in the morning, around nine. Everyone else, within a reasonable doubt, would still be in bed.

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Draco Malfoy stalked off. Stupid Mudblood, he thought. That basilisk in second year really should have killed her. He ruminated pleasantly on these thoughts as he went into the library. Pausing a moment to get his bearings, and to make a quick plan of attack, he went to the shelves in the back of the library, the forgotten ones, to find a few books. For some unfathomable reason, all the ones he himself would have chosen were already out, looking haphazardly thrown about the aisle. He looked through them, but finding nothing there that he could use, he calmed his frustration, and consulted the resident librarian.

He described to her in great detail what he was looking for. Before he had finished, Madame Pince was staring at him. Then she toppled over heavily in a dead faint.

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Hermione sat cross-legged on her bed with the drapes closed, staring at the cover of the book. It was old, distressed leather, embossed with the title in gold. After observing it for a few moments, she placed her fingers on the side and prepared to open it. As she did so, she got terribly thirsty. So thirsty that she felt like she might die of thirst if she didn't get a drink now. She had to go down to the common room and get a pitcher of ice-cold Butterbeer to guzzle like a man who'd been in the desert for a week with no water. She never got this thirsty so suddenly. She deduced that it must have been a protective charm on the book to keep it from being opened too often.

Her thirst quenched, she returned to the task at hand. Opening the book quickly, Hermione's mouth dropped in surprise. Each page was pure white, amazing enough considering its age, with gold script, and real jewels and gems mounted on each page. No wonder Madame Pince was so reluctant to lend this out... It was worth at least two thousand galleons a chapter!

After admiring the pages for some time, Hermione flipped to the contents page. Apparently, on page sixty-six, Chapter 4: Markings and Messages began.

On page 67, there was a picture, in exact replica, of the marking on Hermione's hip. Underneath it, the text began.

Il Simbolo del Diavolo, or The Devil's Symbol, is only found on two people when turmoil of humanity is present. Found on a powerful wizard and witch, born on the same day, it begins to appear in middle adolescence. The two on which it appears begin to slowly bind to each other. When the Symbol has fully developed, taking at most a fortnight, the two will be bound to each other for all eternity. Once united, they will be powerful beyond imagination; wandless magic at a whim often occurring. It is destined not only for the two to save civilization, but to also rule the people with iron fists, creating a stable environment for the people to thrive.

There are, of course, at the same time, two people with the opposite markings, the only difference of the triangles in place of the circle and circles being in place of the triangles. These two are the only ones who would have the power to stop the Devil's Children from completely taking over. Pure Children are also bound to each other.

So that was it. She was the devil's daughter, although not literally, it was still discomforting. In addition, there was someone else out there, with the same birthday as her, who she was becoming bound to, and would take over the world with her. And he had the Devil's Symbol too. Well, that would not be too hard for her to find.

She went back to the library, taking the main corridors this time. She returned the book to a recently revived Madame Pince, and left again, only to bump, once more, into Malfoy, as he was walking out the doors.

"Were you just in the library?" She asked, barely containing a laugh.

"Yeah, what's it to you? It's not like it was very helpful anyways." He grimaced.

"Do you want me to help you?" For some reason, her brain was telling her to be civil to Malfoy. Normally she would not go against her best instincts, but last night in a care package from home, she got a fortune cookie (sugar-free of course; her parents were dentists). It said 'be civil to thy enemy and reap the rewards'. So, why not, right? What harm would come for trying?

"Why?" He asked suspiciously. He eyed her, the torchlight glistening off the slits.

"Well, I do know a lot about a lot of things. Are you sure you don't want my help?"

"Alright." He sighed, and then said, "I'm looking for an explanation of this." He rolled up his sleeve and showed Hermione his forearm.

Instead of the Dark Mark she had expected to see, she saw the Devil's Symbol, an exact replica of the one on her hip.

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Please... tell me how you like this...!

--So take that, here's our plan of attack so count on bruising-- theAUDITION