Because of the reviewers who requested I do this story, here you go.

Aisha Salke: Thank you very much. I pretty much had to share it, it's only fair.

vampire moonlight: I like your name... probably cause I like vampires. Thanks.

Rose Haven: I always love it when you review my stuff! Thanks!

Cleopatra Curtis: Here you go! Thank you!

houquilter: Yes, he has.

xxxkris44: Here you go then if you're so adamant. Enjoy and thank you.

Yoshishisha: Thank you for being the first reviewer. I hope it lives up to your expectations.

I hope I get more of these wonderful nice reviews. Thank you all.

Love, Keta.

Where Butterflies Never Die

(Sequel to Louder than Thunder)

Chapter 1: Float on to the Painted Sky

Harry sighs and grasps at the satin bed sheets pulling them over his head. He sighs again louder this time, trying and failing to fall asleep. Finally, the boy gives up, sliding out of the bed with a disgruntled look on his face. He fumbles around for his glasses before remembering Tom had his vision corrected upon coming to Riddle Manor.

He stumbles to his closet, wearing a pissed off expression when he finds that Tom had indeed carried through with his threat and threw out most of his clothes, saying that they were to plebian. "Whatever, bastard," Harry had responded, earning himself a glare. Now he's got two sets of robes, a buttoned down shirt, his converse and a pair of black skinny jeans. "Prick," he says, throwing on his clothes and walking out of the room with a scowl set firmly on his pale face.

In the dining room, he finds the Malfoy family and Snape sitting with the 'Dark Lord'. 'Dark my ass,' Harry thinks, 'there's nothing dark about him.' He thinks about what he just thought. 'Well he does kill people.'

'What are you thinking about?'

Harry of course jumps when he hears Voldemort's voice in his head. 'Will you stop that?'

'No.'

'Bastard.'

'No need to bring up my lack of suitable father, Harry.'

'Yeah, yeah.'

Harry sits down, smiling at the crepes in front of him. 'So…'

'What?'

'What were you thinking about?'

'How not dark you are.'

'I do not catch the drift.'

'Normal dark lords and evildoers, or whatever they call themselves, don't let their enemies live in the same house as them, as a guest.'

'Well, I'm not an ordinary dark lord, am I?'

'Nope. You're perfectly strange. Bellatrix.'

'Thank yo… what did you just call me?'

'Bellatrix. A.K.A. psychotically strange.'

'Cute.'

'I know!'

"Um…" Draco says trying to get my attention. "Harry, would you like to go to Diagon Alley with Mum, Dad and me."

I look over at the blonde, a friendly smile curving up the corners of my mouth. "Of course. Anything to get me out of here!"

The others laugh, even Severus. Since coming here, he and I have settled our differences and he admitted that I am far different than James Potter. Draco and I have become friends to fill the hole of finding that the people I had always called my best friends weren't as they seemed. "Well, we're all going," Tom says, looking straight into my eyes and I find myself blushing.

To say that I don't find him charming and overall wonderful, would be a lie. "Good. Under glamours for you, Tommy Boy, right?"

"Don't call me that." He growls at me.

"So, just Tommy then… Too bad I can't call you Chucky."

"Enough."

'Fine.'

'I will be wearing glamours if it eases your mind, Harry.'

'Thank you. I don't want anything to happen to you.'

'I know.' "We'll be leaving in ten."