Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor do I claim that I do. The characters in this story are somewhat made by me, somewhat made by J.K. Rowling. The interpretations of these characters are purely my own, and purely for entertainment.

Summary: In the first uprise of Lord Voldemort, lives are changed. Some die, some come into birth, and some wither away into memory. However, what happens when one soul set on finding another makes one of the biggest changes on history that can possibly happen? When Delana Moorey enters into Hogwarts for her seventh and final year as a Slytherin student, she begins to fall for Regulus Black - an action that will change the world, twenty years in the future.

Description:This fanfiction, which if it was written by J.K. Rowling, would be set somewhere in the seventies. However, as this is MY fanfiction, it will be set and projected somewhere around the timeline set for Harry Potter. All events will be the same, however, just boosted up about twenty years in time. (This, for those of you who don't understand, means that THIS fiction takes place in the nineties, which would shift Harry's timeline well into the tens. (His projected year at Hogwarts would be 2011)

Projected first chapter date: The fourth of July.

Main characters: Delana Moorey, seventh year Slytherin, age 18. Regulus Black, seventh year Slytherin, age seventeen. Other characters will be added as well.

Prelude: A Dark and Stormy Night

A flash of red lightning spread across the well-clouded sky, followed by the deep, loud crack of thunder. It was near midnight, on July 2nd, and the lights of the Muggle houses down below the hilltop were flicking off, one after the number, proclaiming sleep. Only after all the lights had gone out was another flash of red lightning seen - the crack following this time being one of Apparition. A tall, ghastly man stood, barely outlined by the bright moonlight, surrounded by the gravestones which had stood on the hilltop for a long amount of time. A wry smirk spread across his face as he surveyed the land below, taking in the sight of near darkness. Tonight would be perfect for what was to come. He turned, looking upon the graveyard with a cursory glance. Soon, the rest would arrive, and soon, he would begin his plan. Reaching into his inner pocket on his robes, he drew out a long, supple wand, and pressed it into the meat of his left forearm. The skin began glowing for half a second, then resided. He took his wand away, letting it hang next to his side along with his hand gripping it.

The air, once again, was filled with a brilliant light - this time, however, the normal, whitish color of lightning. Robed and masked figures gathered around the man standing there, immediately all dropping to a deep bow. When the last had shown up, with two younger children in tow, the tall man looked at those bowing with an approving glance. He was rising, he thought to himself, looking at his servants. He gave a sharp nod, and all the figures rose again - taking their masks off as they did so.

"Bring the boys forward." he drawled, the voice deep and menacing.

The last man who had arrived, whose hair was a platinum blond and whose face was slightly less than attractive, stepped forward, the younger boys beside him moving of their own will this time. To the left of the man was one who resembled him greatly - from his facial features to the exact color of his hair. He was quite obviously the man's heir. To his right, however, was a darker, more handsome young boy - one whose family hadn't graced the ranks of the Dark for many generations. Both of the boys bowed their heads before their leader, then raising to look at him expectantly.

"I've heard that it is your wish to serve me. Is this correct?"

Both the boys nodded, murmuring their consent, kneeling before their leader, both wholeheartedly knowing that this was what they wished to do - for the moment, at least. Their leader looked down upon them, watching their actions with great interest. He could smell the fear rolling off the darker boy - the stench of such filled his nostrils, and he gave the slightest bit of a smile. He loved fear - thrived on it, rather. He took a step forward, pointing his wand towards the blond boy.

"Rise, Malfoy, and give me your arm."

Malfoy stood to his feet, pushing up the sleeve on his left arm, and offering his arm to the leader. The man nodded, grasping his left arm tightly with his free hand, and looking deep into Malfoy's eyes. In them, he found pride, envy, and the wish for extreme power. His father had been loyal, the leader noted, pressing the tip of his wand roughly into the center of his forearm.

"Is it your wish to serve the one and only Lord Voldemort? If so, say, I wish to serve my Lord and Master." he whispered, only for the ears of the boy in front of him.

"I wish to serve my Lord and Master." came Malfoy's loud, strong voice.

Lord Voldemort prodded the wand deeper into his arm, causing Malfoy to gasp in pain. A smile spread across his face, taking great joy in the younger boy's pain. If he could live off two things alone, he thought, it would be pain and fear. There was no need for any other emotions, the things that distracted him so much. He shook off his thoughts, looking the boy deep in the eyes once more.

"Do you swear to be loyal to me, and do all I ask, under the pain of death?"

"I do so swear."

"So be it. Infusco scriptum!"

A flash of purple light was seen for only a split second before the sharp intake of breath from Malfoy was heard. A soft sob was heard from his mouth as the pain rushed through his arm, and as he watched the dark black ink of the Dark Mark was infused into his arm. A tear dropped on the soft skin of his inner elbow, and he was pushed back by Voldemort. He hit the ground with a loud thump, and quickly scurried to a crawling position to kiss the hem of his new Master's robes.

"Rise, Malfoy, and join your father."

Malfoy bowed once more, stood, and walked over to where his father stood. His father clasped him on the shoulder with a large smile, pushing him to turn around and watch the next initiation. Voldemort turned on his heel to look at the other boy who still remained kneeling, in the exact position. The boy hadn't even moved to watch the ceremony. Maybe, by some chance, the boy would turn out to be worthwhile after all.

"Rise, Black, and give me your arm."

The ceremony was repeated with the darker boy, except for no tears were shed, and the fear in his replies were visible in the trembling of his voice. As the Dark Mark spread across his arm, he let out a high pitched scream, echoing off the gravestones, filled with pure terror and a slight bit of regret. He hadn't exactly wanted to be here in the first place, and now he was - whether he liked it or not. He was officially part of the ranks of the Death Eaters, and he definitely wanted out.

A/N: Oh, Lord. Okay. Here's my first chapter, or rather, my prologue. I hadn't intended on it being this short, or this awful. I hope that it gains enough attention for someone to eventually like it, however. PM or review me your critiques, I would appreciate any and all feedback on this little beginning. I hope to have the first full chapter up by the fourth.

- D

Infusco - dark
scriptum - to mark