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AN: Hey this is Maticore, this Authors Note is to give credit for the idea/adoption of the original plot to AbruptVoid2401 and his x-over (named No. 109). Hopefully I can do the concept justice.
I do not own the rights to either HP or sekerei all official rights go to their creaters.
Beta Notes (BN): You will Maticore, have no doubt about that…
Daughter of the Pillar
Prologue
Halloween was a day of mixed blessings for the hidden wizarding community. It was of high importance, as this was the day when the barriers between the "physical" and "spiritual" realms were at their weakest, thus meaning the natural ley lines were at their strongest. This made it a day of high tradition, where families would get together to revitalize their family magics' or the wards around their homes with the help of the magics' in the land.
The downside of the day though was that since the statute of secrecy was instated and their community fell into myth and legend, the non-magical community has, in recent years been using such an important day to essentially mock them in ignorance. For one wizard, that was highly irritating, because he had an important appointment to keep and seeing all these ignorant nuisances was distracting him beyond belief.
Finally Tom Riddle, more commonly known by his self-appointed moniker Lord Voldemort, arrived at his rendezvous point and awaited the arrival of his informant. Without so much as a twitch at the *crack* of a sudden Apparition in close proximity to his person, Tom just tilted his head to survey the new arrival.
The informant was a small, pudgy man, the sort that you could walk past without even noticing, but that was what made him so good at his job. That, and his… special talent.
"My Lord, I have the information you wanted." the man snivelled.
"Well done Peter. So, my assumption that the Potters' would try to fool us into thinking Black was the keeper was correct, then?" Tom asked.
"Yes, My Lord" Peter replied.
Tom had to admit it was a good plan, with just one flaw - they chose Peter as the Secret-Keeper.
Ah, the Fidelius Charm, a powerful and complex spell, with the ability to hide a 'secret' inside a living soul for as long as the keeper could hold it. It would have worked in hiding the Potters, had had they not inadvertently chosen his spy as their Secret-Keeper.
"Thank you Peter, your work has been of great value to me." Tom assured his spy, to assuage any doubts the young man might have.
With that said, he took a slip of parchment from the man and read the address on it. He was surprised to note it was only a street or two from where he was now.
he was now, standing near some memorial in the central square of Godrics' Hollow, a small village on the border of England and wales. They were now standing in a small ground carpeted in red and gold leaves. Making a quiet crunch with each movement.
"Has the diversion in Diagon Alley begun?" Tom asked, not really caring, as even if the Potters didn't go to help with whatever chaos his followers were causing, he was more than powerful and skilled enough to literally walk through them and their defences. Especially when it came to something as important as this!
"Yes Master, it was beginning when I left" was his reply, and with that, Tom turned on his heel and headed for his target. It was with regret, he didn't want to do this, but his hand was forced by Dumbledore and his constant meddling. He was being forced to choose between his goals and the life of a single magical child. And like every other time it was an easy choice. His goals came first, the Wizarding World needed his guidance, but with Dumbledore and his flaming chicken club constantly getting in the way his progress was limited. Oh, how he hated that old man.
As Tom approached the building, he waved Peter back and prepared himself for a fight. When he felt ready, he cast a simple -for him- Bombarda at the door to make an entrance. The wooden door splintered inwards, clearing a path into the building. It was in the living room he encountered his first adversary, Charlus Potter, the man barely worthy of the word. He attempted to fight him, to buy time for his wife, but all it succeeded in doing was ensuring the man was killed, a sacrifice in his inexorable advance towards his goal. As he swiftly swept over Charlus cooling corpse and moved towards his goal, he encountered Dorea Potter née Black, a truly powerful witch, and yet another regret to add to the list he absent-mindedly tallied.
"Stay away, I won't let you get any closer!" Dorea said, with the manic determination that can only be found in those protecting their family, not that Tom understood that - all he saw was courage and someone in the way of his goal.
"Step away and you can live, if not..." he his from underneath a black cloak, his crimson eyes gleaming maliciously in the light.
"Never, I'll protect her if it's the last thing I…!"
"Avada Kedavra" Tom intoned, cutting off her declaration, realizing that there was no convincing her, as the trademark Black mania had begun to seep into her gaze.
'Such a waste of good magical blood ' Tom lamented, not that it would stop him.
He then turned and approached the crib. Looking in to reveal a pair of toddlers, the so called chosen one and his 'downfall', according to the prophecy. He had spent long hours thinking on the contents and had decided that it had better to be safe and get rid of any possible threats, than it was to leave them alive and possibly defeat him. He had chosen tonight so that he could draw on the ley lines, to make sure that the job was done properly.
So as he looked into the crib at the supposed source of his downfall, he did not see a pair of innocent children, remarkably similar to himself at such an age – in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Instead what he saw was a potential threat to his reign. Because they were born in the middle of a war, and prophesy foretold that they gain the power to defeat him, these two children had to die. He barely felt anything for the atrocities he had committed in the name of the cause, though he might make a list later, to 'remember those who could not be saved', but they did not bother him now, and likely never would.
This however was different, these babes had done nothing, could do nothing. In most cases, young children and babies were taken, not killed, as they were easily indoctrinated and would provide more support for the cause later on. So yes, he felt guilty, but the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Except for his needs. His were above all of them.
As he trained his wand on the children, the girls' eyes opened and stared blankly at him, before she turned and cuddled her brother, falling back to sleep. With that, Tom decided he had spent enough time waffling and cast the spell. The acidic green Killing Curse screamed out of his wand and hit the small of the girls back, causing her to spasm for a second, then go pale and roll over. But that was where things started to go wrong. The cursed magic went wild, rejecting his control. It flailed around, green tendrils damaging the building, blowing out the exterior wall and roof.
As the magic started to die down it inverted and before Tom could do anything, it turned on its' caster, on him, causing unfathomable pain. With no end in sight, it was all he could do to run, to try and find somewhere from which to recover from whatever had just happened, though he had no idea what it was. And so it was that Lord Voldemort fled, believed dead by all but the most knowledgeable and most sceptical. Or paranoid, like a certain ever-vigilant Auror.
Daughter of the Pillar
The wraith had just fled and mundane were gathering to find out what happened, only to be sent home by a hastily erected barrier raised by personnel from the Ministry of Magic, so that they could investigate without interference. As this was going on, Lily and James Potter arrived back to and received a rather large shock, brought on by the sight of their temporary home in tatters.
As they ran in, they found James's parents lying dead on the ground, along with a tattered pair of robes and a pile of dust. Knowing that this could mean only one thing, they went to collect their children and other, less important items, after which they travelled by floo –luckily undamaged in the attack- to see Professor Dumbledore.
It didn't take long for the family of four to arrive in Dumbledores office.
"Why good evening James, I do hope you and Lily weren't hurt in the attack on Diagon Alley earlier." he said, his eyes twinkling and exuding an aura of safety.
"No Headmaster, but I fear it was only a diversion from You-Know-Who's true goal." James informed the man, whose expression suddenly went from serene to serious.
"What do you mean?" Dumbledore all but demanded.
"Well Headmaster, our safe house in Godrics' Hollow was attacked"
With that one statement, was on edge.
"James, do you mind if I examine the children? If it is as you said, then they were just subject to an attack by Voldemort. They could be the one referenced in the prophecy." Dumbledore said.
With a nod from both increasingly worried parents, Dumbledore started using diagnostic spells on David and found nothing wrong with the boy, except an oddly shaped cut on his forehead that seemed to be only slightly infected with dark magic, thus stopping it from ever healing properly, but aside from that the only remarkable thing about him was his slightly larger than average core.
When he turned to Iris he found nothing physically wrong with her, though she was in a deeper than normal sleep. So he tested her core and found that it was strained and warped, and contained little magic aside. This disappointed him, as the Potter (and Black, through their Grandmother) families where renowned for their magical prowess. Now he just had to find a way to break the news to the family, that their daughter was essentially a squib. This was not a conversation he was looking forward to.
AN:
1. Voldemort's point of view is written in a semi-sane manner, as from his view point everything he is doing makes perfect sense. He is slowly approaching the edge, so doesn't notice that he is about to go off the deep end, a final push to full psycho (as in no redeeming qualities left, at all), which comes when he gets blasted into a wraith from the pain. Such an event would completely shatter ones mind. Look at Alice and Frank Longbottom, both were put under the Cruciatus for an extended period and their minds snapped.
2. The story is a WBWL, but it isn't obvious as to how. I have put clues on what happened to make it such in the chapter. The first person to correctly guess gets a cyber cookie.
BN: This was surprisingly fun to edit, not only do I get to read it first,
"Take that, reader peons!" Void yelled from his office
"Sir, you are a reader peon."
"Oh, right…"
…but I get to help make it even better! You do good work Maticore, it just needed a bit of polish and some elbow grease.
And thanks Maticore, for letting me work on this with you. I really appreciate it.
Void
Beta Copy
There, done. Could you leave the [Beta Notes (BN):] in there please? I may want to say a couple words about the chapter.
Also, for Iris, if you have a Japanese name, a suggestion is Asama Ayame (Iris) or Asama Kotori (Bird of Luck). As an aside, Japanese naming convention puts the family name first.
This~ was surprisingly fun to edit, not only do I get to read it first, but I get to help make it even greater! You do good work Maticore, it just needed a bit of polish and some elbow grease.
Re: BN, I won't tell anyone anything about the story, I just want to lord my inside knowledge over them. It's harmless, I promise!
Void
Beta Copy
