Blood Lust
AN: Hey, Raven here! For those of you who read this story uinder my other name, I'm sorry for any confusion caused by the change, but I finally got an email account and formed a new profile. This is a edited version of the most recent version of Blood Lust, and I hope that any new readers will review. R&R! raven
Blood Lust: Chapter One
A thick, black solution sat still in a cold cauldron, dormant and useless, a solution of water and wolves bane that was nothing but a waste of time. At least that's how Wormtail saw it. But he was not about to question the Dark Lord's orders. Wormtail shuddered at the memory of his left hand being cut from his wrist in a single stroke. He set a hand of the metal-thing- that served as the replacement for his hand, pulling his hand away when he felt the cold bite of the metal. No, he would say nothing, he thought bitterly, he never did, never question the master. Wormtail shook his head, as though to remove such thoughts from his mind. You never knew when He was listening.
Two red, pupil-less eyes glittered from the darkness, reveling in the perfection of their newest plan. Yes, things were going wonderfully. This was a plan no one could predict, no one could stop. Not even that blasted Potter brat. Paper-white hands clenched, the dry, thin skin stretching over thin and brittle bones. He was still not fully recovered after his attempt on the Boy. But that would not happen again. No, no one could stop him in his quest, in his own "holy war."
The world would be his.
Hermione Granger, at first glance, was nothing spectacular. Her hair had gone from one extreme to another over the summer. From bushy as a squirrel thrown in a drier, to as limp and lifeless as a beheaded fish, framing her heart shaped, pale face in a smooth wave . Although it could still be called brown, it was only be large stretch of imagination, as the shade was more black than any other color.
Her eyes were brown, just an average, Crayola crayon brown. But, if you looked behind the color, behind the eye itself, you saw her soul. Sharp and intelligent, with a wit sharper than a blade of silver. And fear, loneliness, despair. Emotions not expected in an average teenage witch. But Hermione was not the average witch. Not only did she know everything there was to know, she knew more. More then the mortal mind could ever wrap its limited, flimsy mind around.
She knew of the things that slinked through the darkness, that fed on the hidden fear in the back of the minds of all people. Things that lived under the beds and in the closets of all children and the Hogwarts students. The things that had been banished by the age of seven existed in the very school that was meant to keep them away. But Hermione was the only one aware, the only one who had the knowledge of the truth, and with that truth, lack of fear. Hermione knew all there was to know and more, she had no reason to fear anything at all. Nothing, and she knew it.
Edward Granger shifted on his feet as he stood by his front door, fidgeting with the car keys as he waited for his daughter to come to the door. Something had happened to Hermione over the summer vacation, and it frightened him. Edward could not explain his fear of his own daughter, and he was almost ashamed of his irrational flight instinct that he felt when he saw the daughter of his own flesh and blood. But he had noticed the gradual change in her physical appearance, her attitude, and her behavior. She had become quieter, almost darker, and not only in appearance, her very personality seemed to have been cast in shadow. She had insisted on staying locked up in her room all day and going to various events at all times of the night. She had changed, and Ed Granger could tell that it wasn't for the better. He froze as Hermione glided-she didn't just walk anymore, she seemed to float- down the stairs with her trunk dragging behind her and a cat basket under her arm.
"Come on, Hermione, we don't want you to miss the train."
Hermione leaned back in her chair, tucking her chin down to hide her face from the sunlight. She was lying down on her stomach in the back seat of her parent's station wagon, hiding herself from the light steaming through the windows in what seemed like a powerful flow pounding on her back. Clothing only blocked so much. The light slammed itself against her cloak, trying to force its way through to the pale skin beneath, but she would be safe soon, she would be at Hogwarts, and she would be safe from the sun and her mother's cross that hung from her neck everyday, all day.
Soon, she would be safe.
TBC