A New Day has Come
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except what you don't find familiar.(y do we hafta do these anyway??)
A/N : I haven't posted anything on this site for a loooong time- I hope you like this. R/R plz thanks. Enjoy!
Prologue
He would not cry, he told himself. He would not show fear. His father had told him ever since he could remember that fear revealed weakness, that it made the other person feel they had some power over you. Now he stood, calm on the outside while inside he was trembling all over. Just thinking about whatever his father had in store for him this time made him want to throw up whatever he had eaten that morning.
Sighing reluctantly, he threw on a pair of velvet black robes over his shirt. He gazed wistfully at the cauldron and pile of potion ingredients on his desk. That would have to wait. His father had long since given up trying to find out what sort of potions he was making, or trying to make. He had been very careful and secretive, and even his father's brilliant mind hadn't figured it out.
The knock on the his door jolted him from his thoughts. "Come in," he called, running a hand through his dark hair. It was Wormtail. "The Dark Lord is ready for you, young master."
"Thanks, Peter," he muttered as he followed the short man into the throne room.
They stood by the doorway. He squeezed his eyes shut and clasped his sliver serpent necklace tightly. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again. They could see into the large, imposing room: The cold gray walls had silver and green draping hanging on them. Various torture instruments stood by the walls. The large brick fireplace had no fire in it; in fact, it looked like the entire room hadn't seen glow or warmth in centuries.
A large silver throne with serpent designs entwined all over it sat by the back wall. Pitiless red eyes gleamed maliciously. Long, white fingers stroked the vicious reptile that lay in those long hands.
"Ah, Morphius," the Dark Lord said in his silky voice as he and Wormtail stepped inside.
"Father," he replied softly, his voice devoid of any tremor.
Beside him, Wormtail squeaked, "Will that be all, my lord?"
The red eyes flickered over to where the short man stood shaking. "Yes, Wormtail, you may go." The man bowed hastily and practically scurried from the room. Morphius knew how he felt.
"And how is my favorite son doing this evening?" Voldemort asked suddenly, a smile playing across his lips.
"I'm your only son, Father," he replied. The older man chuckled. "True. I have only one son." "A very outspoken one," he added, his eyes glinting dangerously.
Mo fought the urge to shiver. He forced a small laugh. "I was just kidding around, Father." His father studied him for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair, a finger stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Tell me Morphius. Is there anything..interesting I need to know about?"
Mo frowned. The only interesting thing that had happened that day was the dream, and his father couldn't know about that.could he? But as soon as he remembered the dream, visions of the tall, dark, attractive girl with the mesmerizing eyes came back to him before he could stop them.
"Mo," her voice had called. "Come to me, Mo.. Mo. where are you?" "I'm right here," he'd replied. He had tried to walk over to her, but it had seemed some invisible barrier was between them. "No..please.I can't get to you!" he'd cried out. "Figure out a way..I'm right here waiting for you Mo." Then she had disappeared, leaving Mo crying after her.
Mo shook himself, trying to get the images out of his brain. It had been a very vivid dream. So real... "I see you spaced out there, Morphius," his father's amused voice brought him back to reality. "So it seems something did happen, eh?" "No.no it didn't. It was just another day," he looked the Dark Lord directly in the eye. "Are you quite sure of that?"
Damn. He couldn't have known, right? It just wasn't possible. He didn't even know himself why he was so intent on not telling his father about the dream. Something just told him he shouldn't. He didn't understand why. It wasn't like he hadn't gone out with girls before, or that his father discouraged him from doing so. In fact, he did quite the opposite; he encouraged him to do more than just take them out. He tried not to think about that. His father could be just sick sometimes.
"Yes I'm sure," Mo answered finally. "Not even an interesting..dream maybe?" he asked lazily.
Oh, God. How did I even think he wouldn't know? he thought frantically. The Dark Lord had powers people didn't even dream about. He chose his words carefully. "Perhaps I had a dream. But I don't know, because I can't remember. People forget dreams, you know." "Yes.." Voldemort seemed to be pondering something, then suddenly his wand was out.
"Crucio!" Mo staggered backwards, the blinding pain hitting him suddenly. He gritted his teeth so as not to cry out.
Come on, Mo, he told himself. You can do it. Even if you haven't taken the potion. You can block it away. There is no pain. There is no pain. There is no pain..
It worked a little, and he felt some of the pain fade away. It was much easier with the potion, though. Finally his father removed the curse.
"Took you by surprise this time, eh?" A cruel smirk covered his face. "Didn't block it as well as before." Voldemort chuckled. " I would try Imperio, but I know I'd be just wasting my efforts." Somehow, there was no pride in his voice while saying that; while saying that his son could easily resist an Unforgivable curse.
Mo just nodded. His pulse was still racing madly. "Dismissed," Voldemort ordered. "And don't let me ever hear you lying to me again."
Mo nodded again and left the room, only too glad. He collapsed on his bed upon entering his room, only now allowing himself to shake slightly. Before he knew it, he'd fallen asleep, once again the image of a beautiful, striking, dark angel girl entering his dreams. And she would do so for days to come.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except what you don't find familiar.(y do we hafta do these anyway??)
A/N : I haven't posted anything on this site for a loooong time- I hope you like this. R/R plz thanks. Enjoy!
Prologue
He would not cry, he told himself. He would not show fear. His father had told him ever since he could remember that fear revealed weakness, that it made the other person feel they had some power over you. Now he stood, calm on the outside while inside he was trembling all over. Just thinking about whatever his father had in store for him this time made him want to throw up whatever he had eaten that morning.
Sighing reluctantly, he threw on a pair of velvet black robes over his shirt. He gazed wistfully at the cauldron and pile of potion ingredients on his desk. That would have to wait. His father had long since given up trying to find out what sort of potions he was making, or trying to make. He had been very careful and secretive, and even his father's brilliant mind hadn't figured it out.
The knock on the his door jolted him from his thoughts. "Come in," he called, running a hand through his dark hair. It was Wormtail. "The Dark Lord is ready for you, young master."
"Thanks, Peter," he muttered as he followed the short man into the throne room.
They stood by the doorway. He squeezed his eyes shut and clasped his sliver serpent necklace tightly. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again. They could see into the large, imposing room: The cold gray walls had silver and green draping hanging on them. Various torture instruments stood by the walls. The large brick fireplace had no fire in it; in fact, it looked like the entire room hadn't seen glow or warmth in centuries.
A large silver throne with serpent designs entwined all over it sat by the back wall. Pitiless red eyes gleamed maliciously. Long, white fingers stroked the vicious reptile that lay in those long hands.
"Ah, Morphius," the Dark Lord said in his silky voice as he and Wormtail stepped inside.
"Father," he replied softly, his voice devoid of any tremor.
Beside him, Wormtail squeaked, "Will that be all, my lord?"
The red eyes flickered over to where the short man stood shaking. "Yes, Wormtail, you may go." The man bowed hastily and practically scurried from the room. Morphius knew how he felt.
"And how is my favorite son doing this evening?" Voldemort asked suddenly, a smile playing across his lips.
"I'm your only son, Father," he replied. The older man chuckled. "True. I have only one son." "A very outspoken one," he added, his eyes glinting dangerously.
Mo fought the urge to shiver. He forced a small laugh. "I was just kidding around, Father." His father studied him for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair, a finger stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Tell me Morphius. Is there anything..interesting I need to know about?"
Mo frowned. The only interesting thing that had happened that day was the dream, and his father couldn't know about that.could he? But as soon as he remembered the dream, visions of the tall, dark, attractive girl with the mesmerizing eyes came back to him before he could stop them.
"Mo," her voice had called. "Come to me, Mo.. Mo. where are you?" "I'm right here," he'd replied. He had tried to walk over to her, but it had seemed some invisible barrier was between them. "No..please.I can't get to you!" he'd cried out. "Figure out a way..I'm right here waiting for you Mo." Then she had disappeared, leaving Mo crying after her.
Mo shook himself, trying to get the images out of his brain. It had been a very vivid dream. So real... "I see you spaced out there, Morphius," his father's amused voice brought him back to reality. "So it seems something did happen, eh?" "No.no it didn't. It was just another day," he looked the Dark Lord directly in the eye. "Are you quite sure of that?"
Damn. He couldn't have known, right? It just wasn't possible. He didn't even know himself why he was so intent on not telling his father about the dream. Something just told him he shouldn't. He didn't understand why. It wasn't like he hadn't gone out with girls before, or that his father discouraged him from doing so. In fact, he did quite the opposite; he encouraged him to do more than just take them out. He tried not to think about that. His father could be just sick sometimes.
"Yes I'm sure," Mo answered finally. "Not even an interesting..dream maybe?" he asked lazily.
Oh, God. How did I even think he wouldn't know? he thought frantically. The Dark Lord had powers people didn't even dream about. He chose his words carefully. "Perhaps I had a dream. But I don't know, because I can't remember. People forget dreams, you know." "Yes.." Voldemort seemed to be pondering something, then suddenly his wand was out.
"Crucio!" Mo staggered backwards, the blinding pain hitting him suddenly. He gritted his teeth so as not to cry out.
Come on, Mo, he told himself. You can do it. Even if you haven't taken the potion. You can block it away. There is no pain. There is no pain. There is no pain..
It worked a little, and he felt some of the pain fade away. It was much easier with the potion, though. Finally his father removed the curse.
"Took you by surprise this time, eh?" A cruel smirk covered his face. "Didn't block it as well as before." Voldemort chuckled. " I would try Imperio, but I know I'd be just wasting my efforts." Somehow, there was no pride in his voice while saying that; while saying that his son could easily resist an Unforgivable curse.
Mo just nodded. His pulse was still racing madly. "Dismissed," Voldemort ordered. "And don't let me ever hear you lying to me again."
Mo nodded again and left the room, only too glad. He collapsed on his bed upon entering his room, only now allowing himself to shake slightly. Before he knew it, he'd fallen asleep, once again the image of a beautiful, striking, dark angel girl entering his dreams. And she would do so for days to come.