Okay, so this is my first fic everybody! (Even though I've been on
for more than a year). It seemed like a good idea at the time...
Disclaimer- Like I could ever write something as good as those books.
They're not mine. None of it is. Please don't sue me. You wont get much.
Un-betad. Just because I don't think it's good enough to take up someone's
time.
Harry's mind clouded as he sank into fitful dreams of the night where everything went wrong. He walked slowly down that thrice-damned corridor to the door that contained his worst nightmare. Harry desperately wanted to turn back, away from that door. His bloody stupid curiosity was somewhat faded, in light of recent events. But try as he might, Harry's dream self just would not listen, and walked on toward the door that opened upon his slightest touch, as if waiting for him.
This time, surprising Harry not in the least, the door led not to the door-filled room of his past, but he entered a certain graveyard, and his stomach took flight into his throat. This particular graveyard was even more foreboding than the last time he had seen it, not because he was surrounded by Death Eaters, not even because it was, again, late at night, and the darkness surrounded him like a cocoon. No, the graveyard make Harry's hair stand on end, simply by being empty. Devoid of a single sign of life. Not that Harry would consider its usual inhabitants living, per say. The creatures that he had last seen here lived off of chaos and destruction, the sustenance that filled their bodies was the death that they forced upon others, hence their name.
Unable to control his subconscious form, Harry wandered to the nearby house. Riddle Manor stood shaky from years' lack of upkeep. Harry guessed that it had been left this way to keep out prying muggles. The house suddenly coming to life would not sit well with their curiosity.
Curiosity killed the dog... and it wasn't even his curiosity. Harry quickly pulled himself out of that train of thought. It only sank him into a depression that he didn't currently feel strong enough to pull himself out of if need be.
Entering the house, Harry felt a chill down his spine. It felt as though a ghost had just passed through him and gotten stuck. The house was basically empty. On instinct, Harry mounted the stairs and started the trek to the second story of the manor. He came to a landing that contained only a simple, dirt-filled green rug, and a fireplace. The fireplace had a bag thrown haphazardly across the top, looking over, Harry could see that the bag was filled with another of the banes of his existence- floo powder. He silently imagined Lucius Malfoy falling on his arse through the fireplace and smirked as an imaginary 'pimp cane' came flying at the back of Malfoy's head, out of the grate.
Smirking, Harry made his way to the door at the other side of the landing, and slowly pushed it open.
Once inside the room, Harry gasped at the red matter than filled some of his worst nightmares. Covered with it were the walls, ceiling, floor, and in the background he heard a faint voice: 'la la la la, la la la la...' Harry looked around and shuddered. On the floor was the shaking, cowering form of a man in a Death Eater mask. 'This must be some form of punishment' thought Harry. 'To think that Voldemort would count this as a high penalty to his minions brought Harry to the conclusion that Voldemort must find such a thing frightening himself.
Pulling himself out of the frightening scene, Harry woke up in a cold sweat. Having finally found Voldemort's weakness, Harry decided to owl Professor Dumbledore in the morning. He felt sick that Voldemort's weakness was also his own. Harry fell back into a deep slumber with one refrain going through his mind; a refrain that haunted his dreams and apparently, Voldemort's too... 'La la la la, la la la la... Elmo's World....'
Harry's mind clouded as he sank into fitful dreams of the night where everything went wrong. He walked slowly down that thrice-damned corridor to the door that contained his worst nightmare. Harry desperately wanted to turn back, away from that door. His bloody stupid curiosity was somewhat faded, in light of recent events. But try as he might, Harry's dream self just would not listen, and walked on toward the door that opened upon his slightest touch, as if waiting for him.
This time, surprising Harry not in the least, the door led not to the door-filled room of his past, but he entered a certain graveyard, and his stomach took flight into his throat. This particular graveyard was even more foreboding than the last time he had seen it, not because he was surrounded by Death Eaters, not even because it was, again, late at night, and the darkness surrounded him like a cocoon. No, the graveyard make Harry's hair stand on end, simply by being empty. Devoid of a single sign of life. Not that Harry would consider its usual inhabitants living, per say. The creatures that he had last seen here lived off of chaos and destruction, the sustenance that filled their bodies was the death that they forced upon others, hence their name.
Unable to control his subconscious form, Harry wandered to the nearby house. Riddle Manor stood shaky from years' lack of upkeep. Harry guessed that it had been left this way to keep out prying muggles. The house suddenly coming to life would not sit well with their curiosity.
Curiosity killed the dog... and it wasn't even his curiosity. Harry quickly pulled himself out of that train of thought. It only sank him into a depression that he didn't currently feel strong enough to pull himself out of if need be.
Entering the house, Harry felt a chill down his spine. It felt as though a ghost had just passed through him and gotten stuck. The house was basically empty. On instinct, Harry mounted the stairs and started the trek to the second story of the manor. He came to a landing that contained only a simple, dirt-filled green rug, and a fireplace. The fireplace had a bag thrown haphazardly across the top, looking over, Harry could see that the bag was filled with another of the banes of his existence- floo powder. He silently imagined Lucius Malfoy falling on his arse through the fireplace and smirked as an imaginary 'pimp cane' came flying at the back of Malfoy's head, out of the grate.
Smirking, Harry made his way to the door at the other side of the landing, and slowly pushed it open.
Once inside the room, Harry gasped at the red matter than filled some of his worst nightmares. Covered with it were the walls, ceiling, floor, and in the background he heard a faint voice: 'la la la la, la la la la...' Harry looked around and shuddered. On the floor was the shaking, cowering form of a man in a Death Eater mask. 'This must be some form of punishment' thought Harry. 'To think that Voldemort would count this as a high penalty to his minions brought Harry to the conclusion that Voldemort must find such a thing frightening himself.
Pulling himself out of the frightening scene, Harry woke up in a cold sweat. Having finally found Voldemort's weakness, Harry decided to owl Professor Dumbledore in the morning. He felt sick that Voldemort's weakness was also his own. Harry fell back into a deep slumber with one refrain going through his mind; a refrain that haunted his dreams and apparently, Voldemort's too... 'La la la la, la la la la... Elmo's World....'