WARNING: DISCLAIMER CONTAINS DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOILERS.
Blueflamefreak: NOOOO!!!!!!!!!! OH GOD WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -runs and hides in corner, sobbing loudly-
-Tazzi-Devil-: -sweatdrops- ehm….anyway…so we-
Blueflamefreak: Why Fred!? WHY!?!?!
-Tazzi-Devil-: Shut. Up.
Blueflamefreak: -bursts into hysterical sobs-
-Tazzi-Devil-: Right…anyway, so…we take a break to fix up some stuff and what happens? Fred dies.
Blueflamefreak: -sobs louder, stops and gasps- But…but what about George? …WHY IS THERE ONLY ONE?!?!?
-Tazzi-Devil-: Fred dies…so do Remus and Tonks…but you don't seem to care…
Blueflamefreak: …b…but Fred…
-Tazzi-Devil-: Bluefreak…shut up…now…
Blueflamefreak: -sniffle- Yes'm…
-Tazzi-Devil-: Good girl…now do the disclaimer…
Blueflamefreak: Bugger off…
-Tazzi-Devil-: -gives evil look and raises wand- Disclaimer…now…or….a certain someone will never see a certain show ever again.
Blueflamefreak: -eyes wide and teary- b-b-b…sniff ….evil…
Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters blah blah. We do own Cedric, Jake, Lizzie, Aoife…and…Mattie owns himself…coz he's to cute to be legally owned….
-Tazzi-Devil-: Good girl. No more tv for you.
Blueflamefreak: WHAT?!!? NO!!!
Authors note: Aoife is pronounced 'Ee-fa'
Read and Review Please.
We did have this posted up already as 'River of Poison' but felt the need to change some stuff.
PROLOGUE
"Rattler!!" The demented voice hissed, anger dripping off the words like venom off a snakes fangs. The hissed name echoed through the winding halls and corridors until it struck the person in question. The figure's back snapped back, pain searing through them at the malice held within their name. The other four in the room, continued their conversation as if nothing had happened, knowing what punishment awaited them if they reacted. Rattler knelt rigidly for a few seconds, breathing deeply to control the pain and then forced their body to stand. Without a word to the others in the vicinity, Rattler stalked out of the room and down the darkened hallway, shadows reaching out to try and encompass the slight figure. The other four acknowledged the painful exit silently until Rattler was well out of the room, then they all slumped. The smallest of the four drew his legs up to his chest; arms wrapped around his knees and let out a concerned whimper, the bulky figure next to him slung an arm around his shoulder in a comforting manner. The smaller of the remaining two growled angrily and kicked a chair with heavy boots, causing the wooden leg to splinter before crossing their arms over their chest, hunching their shoulders against the cold stone wall and staring at the door their friend had just walked out.
"Not again!" The last one growled angrily, lazily flicking their wand to repair the broken chair leg. "God damn it!"
Voldemort regarded the black cloaked figure in front of him with cold indifference burning through him. Hatred, rage, malice and spite radiated off him with every beat of his callous heart and he made sure Rattler felt it. He grinned pitilessly as Rattler shivered from the sheer feel of his anger and power.
"Rattler." He hissed, slitted red eyes trained on the kneeling figure in front of him.
"Milord." Rattler answered, trying almost successfully to keep the tremble out of their voice. Voldemort grinned, the child was learning.
"It's seems dear Mr. Potter is quite adept at escaping me, wouldn't you agree?" The figure remained silent, anger beginning to swell inside them. Voldemort continued. "And as you would well know by now. That does not bode well for certain people in the room."
"What are you waiting for?" The figure spat suddenly. "A written apology? Because you should know by now, no Potter would ever apologise to you." They cut themselves off, silently fuming at themselves for losing control. Voldemort grinned.
"Crucio." The figure fell to the floor, writhing in silent agony. "Yes, well it was also said no Potter would ever serve me. Oh how times have changed." He lifted the curse, enjoying the strangled gasps that came from his servants lips.
Rattler pulled more air into constricting lungs, desperate for anything to concentrate on, to not think of the pain or of the creature in the room with them. Refusing to think of Voldemort as a human, he had long ago lost any traits of humanity. Rattler had grown up with pain, but this level of Cruciatus just because bloody Potter kept escaping, was unimaginable. God damn you Harry! One of these day's I'm going to…can't kill him…severely maim you for this! One of these fucking days! Rattler's train of thought was cut short by unimaginable pain and a gleefully hissed word.
"CRUCIO!!"
On the other side of England, in the smallest room of an average house, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, lunged forward, mind reeling and stomach churning; a pain filled scream dying in his throat and a coppery taste flooding his mouth as his teeth pierced his tongue in an effort to stay silent. He flopped backward, arms too heavy with sleep to hold himself upright any longer. He lay in the darkened room, gasping for air and trying to understand why every part of his body twinged in pain. His mind reached back to the dream that had awoken him and he frowned, unsure what to think; ever since he had come back from school, he had dreamt of the graveyard. Every night he had relived the horror of watching Voldemort's return, relived the way his blood boiled like liquid fire as he looked on the traitorous rat. Every night he had felt the terror clasp him as he faced the Dark Lord in a duel to the death and every night he had come across the uncertain warmth and bewilderment as his parents 'shadows' had protected him. Every night he was forced to relive the heart wrenching pain of Cedric's death. He was forced to watch again and again was Cedric was hit by the blinding green light, every night he saw the shock, the uncensored fear in Cedric's eyes as his body arched back before tumbling ungracefully to the ground. No warning, no time to do anything, not even scream. And every time he saw this, he felt his soul shatter a little more. He groaned in desperation, just wanting this nightmarish summer to end.
"Cedric…" Harry murmured. "Fuck…Damn it…" He knew there was nothing he could have done to save Cedric after he touched that cup, but it was his fault that Cedric touched it in the first place. And so, guilt continued to wash over him in harsh, unforgiving waves which strengthened after every nightmare. Harry frowned now. This was different. For almost a month he had dreamt of the graveyard. Almost a month he had relived that night, and now this…this dream so different from it…but…so realistic…almost like a vision… What the heck was that? It…damn it…it was real…it was like that muggle last year…this was real and the figure…he was…he…who was he? Why is he familiar to me? Is he at Hogwarts? No…I'd have recognised him…Rattler…what the hell? GOD DAMN IT!!!
After trying for another twenty minutes and watching the room lighten as the sun began to rise into the sky, Harry conceded to the fact that sleep was to elude him and threw off his covers. He grabbed his glasses off the bedside table and blinked a few times before placing them on. He felt a dry, almost sick feeling in his throat and stumbled lethargically to the small mirror inside his broken closet. He peered into the unwavering silver surface and saw the 'saviour of the wizarding world'. He snorted at the thought. The wizarding worlds 'saviour' was a scrawny, underfed and over neglected fourteen, nearly fifteen year old boy with red, blood shot eyes, eternal bed head and deep purple bruises under his eyes; a tell tale sign of the diminishing hours of sleep. Add these to the pale skin and weary, defeated stance he held and you had perfect evidence of the toll the horrors of the graveyard had played on his psyche. He snorted once again. The wizarding world is doomed. Their 'saviour' can't even get a decent night sleep. Some saviour…next person who decides I'm gonna save them from Voldemort is gonna get Dudley's old bike shoved right up their-
"BOY!!" The high pitched shriek on the other side of his door, accompanied by the continuous pounding, cut off his train of thought. "We're going out! There's a list of chores on the fridge. I WANT THEM DONE BEFORE I GET BACK!!!"
"Yes Aunt Petunia." He called obediently, grateful for the cover of the door, he took this moment to flip her off. He heard his aunt walking away and glanced at the clock, then out the window into the bright day light. "Not only is their 'saviour' an insomniac…he was just staring at himself in the mirror for an hour…yep…their doomed…can't even keep track of the bloody time…"
He shook his head in defeat and stalked over to his bed, falling backwards on it and staring at the ceiling for several minutes before jolting upright. He knelt on the floor and quickly found the loose floorboard, prying it open and fishing out one of his most prized possessions. A tattered photo album, not worn by disuse and neglect, but by being opened repeatedly and used too often. He flipped easily to the page he wanted and paused on the photo of his parents wedding day. He looked down on their smiling faces as they enthusiastically waved up at him and felt a smile tugging at his lips until he remembered the graveyard and the shadows. And Cedric's grim request. Harry grimaced and carefully shut the album, not able to look upon the unknowingly happy faces any more. He breathed in slowly and just as slowly released the breath, calming himself and carefully placing the album back in the small gap and replacing the floorboard.
"God damn it." He muttered. "Sirius, Remus, if you guys leave me here all summer…I swear to god, Voldemort will look like a safe house…"
Blueflamefreak: Tv now? Please?
-Tazzi-Devil-: Nope…no show for you….
Blueflamefreak: -twitches- That's it…one of 'em's dying next chapter!!!
-Tazzi-Devil-: …so, what channels it on?
Blueflamefreak: Bien fille!
-Tazzi-Devil-: Damn French speaking... stupid almost French speaking friend
Read and Review Please
-Tazzi-Devil- in association with Blueflamefreak