Harry Potter &
The Children of the Seeker's Stone
Prologue – "The Romanian"
Location: Shores of Constanta, Romania
Time: Dusk, February 23, 1980
"This stone is legend," spoke a hoarse voice as it pierced the symphony of waves crashing against the mouth of a cave in darkness. A stout and balding man was the only figure the natural light of day seemed to reach, shrinking in fear from the cave's touch.
"One fit for an embodiment of fear and perfection, my Lord," the balding man replied to the voice valiantly, even though he kept eyeing the escape to the white powder of the beaches below every few seconds.
"Do you fear death, Julius?" the cold voice spoke to him once more, somehow inching further out of its cradle in the rock, so its face would come into view. The face, once revealed, was the most colorless and sleep deprived figure that Julius had ever seen. His face was as pale as virgin snow, his cheeks gaunt and lips as thin as thread. His eyes were narrow snake like slits that seemed to blink in and out of focus.
In the end, this mysterious man looked as though the joys of life had never come to him. Julius trembled as the other towered over him, his cloak sweeping gravel in his wake.
"I-I don't fear anything, m-my, Lord," Julius managed to squeak, disregarding the strong and commanding vocals of his heritage. The taller man began to laugh and cough at this statement in disbelief. A laugh that caused the stout man's flowing blood to chill in his veins.
"Such a bold statement for a man groveling rather than standing to face me," the other man drew a wand from his robes.
He pointed the tip at Julius's sweating forehead.
"Now, where is your present for me?" the taller man gently hissed as he tightened his grip on his wand. In trying to answer the question, Julius drove both of his hands into his robe pockets.
He held out a pale yellow stone no larger than his chubby palm.
"For you, L-Lord Volde—"
"You dare speak my name, Julius?" the Lord mocked playfully.
"I'm s-sorry," Julius forced out of him with the little strength he had. In doing so, the waves kissing the sides of the rock face seemed to mount like an audience in watching him, blowing fresh sea water onto his face.
The taller man snatched the yellow wonder before the sea touched Julius's arm. The threads of his lips kissed the tip of the stone.
"How long did it take for you to find this?" he asked, examining Julius's shivering stature.
"Exactly 4 months as of today, my Lord," he replied with a faint sense of dignity.
"I would imagine that a man like you would have to put his little pride aside to gain the information for its location," the taller man sneered.
Julius winced as he saw the wicked curl of his lips. This caused another thick sweat to break onto his face, remembering how he had threatened a group of young muggle archeologists and quickly murdered them in order to secure leaving with the stone undetected.
One of the muggles had been his 21 year old adopted son. The memory tortured him. He had silenced the rest of his son's life on a day when warm weather reminded him of his little Marcus's cheerful spirit. The image of Marcus's body falling before him at the mutter of the killing curse overwhelmed him with grief.
His next words were very hollow.
"I had to sacrifice everything."
"Lord Voldemort praises you for such a marvelous victory," he began, now grasping the stone tightly in his other hand.
"Yet-" at this word, Julius looked deeply into his lord's eyes, praying for some sign of relief.
"Yet, I will not tolerate to care for a man who has already served his purpose."
Julius dove for the ends of Voldemort's robes. He started to kiss them.
"Please, my Lord, I will do absolutely anything to stay in your favor!" he screamed and sobbed like a piglet awaiting its death in the night.
"Anything."
Lord Voldemort stared hard at the sobbing Julius before him. His narrow and blood red eyes formed into snake like slits. The muscles of his mouth curved and he gave Julius a very warm and almost affectionate smile.
"Then die for me, Julius," he breathed into the night's air before clearly speaking in a heightened malice.
"Avada--!" he started.
"PLEASE DON'T, MY L—"
"Kedavra," Voldemort finished simply before the stout, balding little man fell to his knees like his son, and collapsed softly onto his face.
"Disgusting rodent."
At the utter of the word 'rodent,' the silence of the air had been broken with a sudden "Pop." A new even smaller man slightly hunched wearing an Earth battered traveling cloak walked hesitantly into view.
Voldemort dropped the stone into the man's outstretched hands.
"I wish for you to devastate a family with a newborn child," he spoke as the lips on the other man curved into a devious, animal fanged smile.
"Do not disappoint me."