Harry Potter and the Founder's Orbs
By Argenteus Draco and Gypsy Malfoy
To Courtney, who always told me to keep writing.
Chapter One : Information
In the depths of the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, a boy struggled silently against the two men holding him there. On one side of the boy was his father, someone he had always loved and respected; someone who he now found out was a high ranking Death Eater. On the other side, a short, balding man with watery blue eyes and a hand containing inhuman strength. And in front of the boy was a man born of nightmares; his demonic red eyes were clear against a face as pale as death, as was a thin, sneering mouth, Lord Voldemort.
"Well, what have you brought me this time?" he asked the men holding the boy. "A child? Of what use is he to me?"
"Master," the man with the strange hand had spoken, "I have been told that this boy knows things that could help you. And we know his family is faithful." He looked once to the boy's father, then continued "I truely believe his information will prove useful, as he found a scroll in the library that we had all but forgotten."
The sneer became a cold smile; the boy shivered, only insane people smiled like that. "Tell me what you know then, son."
The boy spat in his face.
"Oh. So you're the kind to try resisting. Well, I can assure you that it's futile." Voldemort drew a wand from his pocket, and pointed it at the boy's chest. "I'll give you one more chance to tell me what you know." The boy said nothing. "No. Then I suppose you leave me no choice. Crucio."
Screams echoed around the dungeons. Pain like a hundred hot knifes shot through the boy's body; he was sure his head would explode if anything else happened. Then, as suddenly as it had all started, the pain lifted. The boy looked up again, panting. The men had let go of him when the curse had been shot so they could see the boy writhing in pain, but they gripped his arms painfully hard again now that their lord was finished.
"Now, boy," the Dark Lord said again, "You will tell me what you know, or I'll do that again. That doesn't sound like fun, does it." His cold voice was taunting.
The boy looked down at the floor. He remembered the cruciatius curse, and that it could be much worse. Deciding he didn't want to face Lord Voldemort's full rath, or his fathers, the boy looked up again; his steel grey eye's were harder than than the metal they were often compared to. "Alright," he said at last, "I'll tell you what I know, even if it isn't very much." He took a deep breath, then gave the man stare for stare; red eyes stared deep into grey. "I know of something with enough power to give you immortality."
The mans cold smile became wider. "And what would that something be, boy. Another Sorcerers Stone? Or a new potion perhaps?"
"None of those things," the boy said. He looked up at his father once, cursing him silently to hell and back for doing these things and making his son do them too. "Four seperate stones that together hold enough power to either control or destroy the entire wizarding world."
"Of course," Voldemort breathed. "It's so simple, I don't know why it never occured to me before." He turned his smile back on the boy. "You will be rewarded for this, you most certainly will." He took his wand and placed the tip against the inside of the boys upper left arm. Voldemort muttered an incantation, and there was a flash of blinding green light so bright you could almost swear it was white. When the boy looked down again, a skull with a snake proturding from the mouth was etched there - in his very skin! The Dark Lord pressed a cold finger against the mark, and the boy cried out in pain once again. But this pain was different from that of the cruciatus curse; it was worse. It seemed to come from the very heart of a man born of evil. The boy shut his eyes, and for a second saw a wolf with the same demonic eyes as the man in front of him. Then Voldemort took his finger away, and nodded to the two men holding the boy. Both relased his arm at the same moment, they knew he wouldn't run now. And the boy just sat huddled against the wall, wimpering in pain. His father raised a hand to hit him, then remembered that two other people were with him.
"Master, what was it my son knew of?" the boy's father inquired.
Voldemort's eyes turned back on the boy. The cold smile on his lips was replaced by one of malice again. "The Founder's Orbs, Lucius. And you will get them for me."
By Argenteus Draco and Gypsy Malfoy
To Courtney, who always told me to keep writing.
Chapter One : Information
In the depths of the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, a boy struggled silently against the two men holding him there. On one side of the boy was his father, someone he had always loved and respected; someone who he now found out was a high ranking Death Eater. On the other side, a short, balding man with watery blue eyes and a hand containing inhuman strength. And in front of the boy was a man born of nightmares; his demonic red eyes were clear against a face as pale as death, as was a thin, sneering mouth, Lord Voldemort.
"Well, what have you brought me this time?" he asked the men holding the boy. "A child? Of what use is he to me?"
"Master," the man with the strange hand had spoken, "I have been told that this boy knows things that could help you. And we know his family is faithful." He looked once to the boy's father, then continued "I truely believe his information will prove useful, as he found a scroll in the library that we had all but forgotten."
The sneer became a cold smile; the boy shivered, only insane people smiled like that. "Tell me what you know then, son."
The boy spat in his face.
"Oh. So you're the kind to try resisting. Well, I can assure you that it's futile." Voldemort drew a wand from his pocket, and pointed it at the boy's chest. "I'll give you one more chance to tell me what you know." The boy said nothing. "No. Then I suppose you leave me no choice. Crucio."
Screams echoed around the dungeons. Pain like a hundred hot knifes shot through the boy's body; he was sure his head would explode if anything else happened. Then, as suddenly as it had all started, the pain lifted. The boy looked up again, panting. The men had let go of him when the curse had been shot so they could see the boy writhing in pain, but they gripped his arms painfully hard again now that their lord was finished.
"Now, boy," the Dark Lord said again, "You will tell me what you know, or I'll do that again. That doesn't sound like fun, does it." His cold voice was taunting.
The boy looked down at the floor. He remembered the cruciatius curse, and that it could be much worse. Deciding he didn't want to face Lord Voldemort's full rath, or his fathers, the boy looked up again; his steel grey eye's were harder than than the metal they were often compared to. "Alright," he said at last, "I'll tell you what I know, even if it isn't very much." He took a deep breath, then gave the man stare for stare; red eyes stared deep into grey. "I know of something with enough power to give you immortality."
The mans cold smile became wider. "And what would that something be, boy. Another Sorcerers Stone? Or a new potion perhaps?"
"None of those things," the boy said. He looked up at his father once, cursing him silently to hell and back for doing these things and making his son do them too. "Four seperate stones that together hold enough power to either control or destroy the entire wizarding world."
"Of course," Voldemort breathed. "It's so simple, I don't know why it never occured to me before." He turned his smile back on the boy. "You will be rewarded for this, you most certainly will." He took his wand and placed the tip against the inside of the boys upper left arm. Voldemort muttered an incantation, and there was a flash of blinding green light so bright you could almost swear it was white. When the boy looked down again, a skull with a snake proturding from the mouth was etched there - in his very skin! The Dark Lord pressed a cold finger against the mark, and the boy cried out in pain once again. But this pain was different from that of the cruciatus curse; it was worse. It seemed to come from the very heart of a man born of evil. The boy shut his eyes, and for a second saw a wolf with the same demonic eyes as the man in front of him. Then Voldemort took his finger away, and nodded to the two men holding the boy. Both relased his arm at the same moment, they knew he wouldn't run now. And the boy just sat huddled against the wall, wimpering in pain. His father raised a hand to hit him, then remembered that two other people were with him.
"Master, what was it my son knew of?" the boy's father inquired.
Voldemort's eyes turned back on the boy. The cold smile on his lips was replaced by one of malice again. "The Founder's Orbs, Lucius. And you will get them for me."