This is the prologue fic to my new trilogy, The Path's Summons. It explains a few things about where we are at the beginning of the story.
WARNING – MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE AND MURDER OF CHILDREN. ALSO, SLIGHT SWEARING.
Enjoy!
The Breaking Of Death's Master
When the first cracks appeared, he noticed things.
Like how Teddy grew quiet and fearful when Ginny was around, and how he growled whenever Ginny gave him baked treats or glasses of pumpkin juice.
Harry's instincts agreed with his godson, so he went to 's.
When he was halfway there, Ginny figured out where he had gone, and stunned him, obliviated him, then dosed him to the gills on a highly expert combination of love, loyalty, and jealousy potions.
And so he was swallowed into a sea of lies.
Submerged in a bubble of false love, facts started to break through.
Like how his wife was a slut who'd slept with half of his Auror buddies.
How "that half-werewolf brat" was finally learning respect for his elders.
And about how Ginny had "dealt" with his "little insubordination" last time.
This caused a few changes to Harry's resolve – he'd always been the epitome of a Gryffindor: it was time for the world to see his Slytherin side.
Harry waited, biding his time to destroy her.
And the cracks grew.
What shattered Harry completely was the death of his godson.
When Harry came home early to finally confront Ginny, with memories hidden in his personal Pensieve with a Parseltongue password (he'd lied and told everybody he'd lost the ability, even if he was secretly the Lord of Slytherin House by right of conquest after the Final Battle, meaning he'd lost the ability of Parseltongue foe all of five minutes.)
He opened the front door of his house, and walked into a scene reminiscent of his childhood.
Ginny was screaming and hitting Teddy with a frying pan, again and again.
His godson was lying on the floor, covered in blood, and he wasn't breathing.
Rage encompassed Harry. What nobody knew was, during the Horcrux Hunt – after that bitch Hermionie snapped his wand – he had not been struggling to cast with the Snatcher's blackthorn wand. He had been struggling to channel his magic through a twig. Wandless magic was a great ability – it also meant that nobody could prove he'd pulled a prank through Priori Incantatem (the way the Ministry used it at the World Cup.)(Hey, he was the son of a Marauder; of course he was going to pull pranks!)
His revenge was all the sweeter when he realized Voldemort's outrage during the Final Battle.
Potter could cast wandlessly, but he couldn't! Maybe that was the "power the Dark Lord knew not" because despite the ramblings of a drunk and a loony lemon-drop sucking old fossil cashing in on his past glory, it most certainly was not love.
Harry conjured a sheet and gently covered the corpse of his godson, tucking him in like he always did when Teddy had nightmares. Cross-legged on the floor, cradling his godson's cooling corpse, he turned to Ginny with a malevolent glint in his eye.
He was going to make this bitch suffer.
Ginny gulped. When she saw that glint in his eye, she knew she was in deep shit. In her eyes, it wasn't even really her fault – she'd just gotten a little carried away teaching the half-blood mongrel its place.
Harry did not agree.
The last thing that Ginny Potter, wife to the Boy-Who-Lived, Man-Who-Conquered, saw was the cold fury in his emerald eyes as he rocked the dead body of his godson.
Then she burned up, in flames more vibrant than the red of her hair.
BOY-WHO-LIVED-TO-TURN-DARK! The headlines screamed. Did Potter kill You-Know-Who to replace him?
The article went on to interview Ron and Hermionie about his "questionable, attention-seeking actions" over the past few years.
Harry snorted and tossed the paper aside. Stupid bloody cretins.
'Mr. Harry Potter, you are accused of the murder of your spouse, one Ginevra Molly Potter nee Weasley. How do you plead?' Kingsley looked at Harry with a sorrowful expression.
'Guilty. I damn well killed the murderous bitch, and I'm glad that I did!' Harry roared the last part, and there were gasps of horror and fear from the viewer's gallery – they had never seen Harry like this before.
Andromeda Tonks net Harry's Basilisk-worthy gaze and nodded in approval. That bitch had murdered the last part of her family, she deserved to die. It was at times like these that reminded Harry that she was Bellatrix's sister, and was born a Black.
Kingsley nodded. 'Very well, then I sentence you to 20 years in Azkaban, without parole.' Many people began to jeer at what they felt was a light sentence.
'The no parole is in light of the fact that you show no remorse for the murder.' He explained, raising his voice so as to be heard. 'Your sentence is 20 due to all that you have done for the Wizarding World, and the reason for killing.'
When Harry arrived in Azkaban, he grinned at the fact that the Dementors would come no closer than the furthest end of the corridor. They sensed what humans could not.
A whisper came to Harry on the breeze 'Soon, My Master, Soon…'
Death's master would soon be summoned – and Harry couldn't wait.
-The story continues in The Path's Summons-