Harry Potter and the Powers of Evil
Chapter 1
Cold grey eyes observed the scene in front of him. They swept over the cold dungeon floors and unused tables. They came to rest on a figure on the floor. The figure was scrunched up and looking pale with a tint of yellow to his face. It was pitiful. How could the Dark Lord let that disgraceful being become a Death Eater!
But the plan had to work. They were going to have to use him. But if it didn't work?! No, it will! It must.
Lucius glared down upon the piece of shit in front of him. He sneered at the man kneeling in front of him, "Remember the Dark Lord's instructions. You had better not bloody mess up, or you shall suffer his wrath! Get out of here!"
He kicked at the man, and the man scampered out of the room.
Meanwhile, a shadow detached itself and having gotten the information, silently slipped out of the room. He had heard everything. He couldn't believe his father. He never believed it to be true. Only a rumour, to show the Malfoy family's power. But it wasn't. It was true.
How could he be a Death Eater? It wasn't a sick joke as he had thought it was.
Lucius Malfoy ordered his son, "After dinner, meet me at the Green Room. We need to discuss… something."
Draco Malfoy shrugged and walked off to the dining room. He didn't really care what his father was going to tell him. It was probably about being a respectable person who was feared by all or about marrying a pureblood. He ate his dinner slowly, not looking forward to the boring lecture that was to occur afterwards. In a flash, dinner was over. Draco sneered and trudged to the Green Room.
"Sit down." Draco sat down on one of the dragon skin couches, "What is it?"
"Now, you do know that the Dark Lord has been back for a few years now. He has decided to give you the honour of being a Death Eater. You should be very proud. Not many are chosen at this age. You shall be getting the Mark over Christmas Holidays."
Draco stared at his father, his mouth wide open, gaping for the first time in his life. His father nodded to his son, signalling that he leave now. Draco practically ran out of the room. He was breathing heavily, shocked at what he had heard. Had it been true? No, his father wasn't like that. He wasn't cruel, he never beat his son. It was inconceivable. Draco convinced himself that his father was just playing a joke on him. The only problem was that his father had never played a joke in his life. But, nevertheless, he convinced himself that it wasn't true, and he went up to bed.
Soon, he, Draco, was going to get the Mark. But what was that other thing his father had talked about? The Wizarding community was going to be taken over by the Dar… You Know Who this year. He didn't want You Know Who to be in control. He didn't want to be a servant of such a horrid thing. Killing mudbloods when he, himself (A/N himself is Voldemort), was one. How ironic. What should he do? Should he help Potty, Weasel, and Mudblood?
The man stalked out of Malfoy Manor and apparated back to his house in London. The Dark Lord had told him to get Harry Potter for him and bring him back to Malfoy Manor. There, the Dark Lord would kill him. The man started to plan the destruction of the Boy Who Lived.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
The Boy Who Lived was currently waiting for Hedwig to come back with Ron's answer. He had asked if he could stay at their house for the rest of the summer. Half the summer had gone by, filled with Dudley's dieting and eating the food that his friends had given him. His birthday was coming up. He was going to be 17.
Finally Hedwig arrived with Ron's answer. Hedwig flew through the open window and landed on Harry's shoulder. She gently nipped his ear and cocked her head for a treat. He gave her a bit of crust left over from breakfast. He then eagerly untied the letter and started reading it.
Harry,
I just asked mum if you could stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer. She said that you had better bloody come or else. Well, you should tell your aunt and uncle that you're leaving and we'll come and floo you over on July 25th at 2:00. And there better be a real fireplace!! Well now, you can actually have your own bloody birthday party for once in your life!
Hermione's coming over also! I'll bet she'll give you a lousy book as a present!! Just like last year! Guess what I'll get for you! Just you wait, it'll be great! I think mum's giving you a sweater. I'm serious. I saw her knitting just the night before and also this morning. I asked her who it was for, but she wouldn't tell me. What a waste of wool really, I mean, it's not as if you'll wear it. I only wear my sweaters on the day that mum gives them to me. Then they're history.
Fred and George are making lots of money from their shop. They're becoming famous! When you get over here, we're going to their shop at Diagon Alley to visit them! They're going to let us test out their new kinds of Skiving Snackboxes! One of the ones that they're working on is called Cavity Crunch. Your teeth hurt and go all black! Course, Fred and George still can't find out how to keep your teeth from crumbling into ashes… Mum had to take them to St. Mungo's 10 times so far!
Ron
Harry chuckled and got out a piece of parchment to reply.
Ron,
I'm not sure that you should come by the Floo network. Uncle Vernon was really pissed off that summer with the Quidditch World Cup. Well, I'll have to persuade the Dursleys to remove the fake fireplace… (That won't be a happy thing to do…)
Anyways, ready for Seventh year? I'll bet Hermione will be Head Girl. I wonder who's going to be Head Boy. I'll bet it won't be me. I mean, Dumbledore didn't even make me a Prefect.
I can't believe I'll actually be able to get a decent birthday for once! I wonder what you'll get me. And also, that book that Hermione gave me last year was about Quidditch, so it wasn't bad. And getting a sweater isn't bad either. At least I won't have to wear any of Dudley's clothes which are 10 times too big for me! Right now, he can't even go through the front door (or any other doorway…)! He's got his own little… sorry, I meant huge house in the backyard. Aunt Petunia found out that he's been sneaking snacks in between meals and in the middle of the night. He's on a giant diet, and he's totally miserable.
See you at The Burrow!
Harry
Harry looked up hopefully at Hedwig, who was in her cage getting comfy for a good night's…well, day's sleep. Hedwig hopped out and stuck out her leg for Harry. He thanked her and she looked at him giving him the impression that this was going to cost him a lot. She dipped her beak into her water bowl before flying off.
"Get to Dudley's shelter, you blasted boy!" yelled Uncle Vernon.
Harry rolled his eyes and got off his creaky second-hand bed. He trudged into Dudley's 'shelter', and found his aunt, uncle, and cousin all crowded (because of Dudley's pork) in it.
Uncle Vernon suspiciously polite, greeted Harry, "Good morning, isn't it a lovely after—"
"Look, get out of here and go to your damn godfather to live. We're sick of you," Dudley grunted bluntly.
It was like he was frozen in ice. He couldn't feel anything except freezing numbness. He couldn't move or think. It was the second time anybody mentioned Sirius to him after that day Sirius had died. He had never mentioned it to the Dursleys.
"Answer already! You've been sitting there for a minute already!"
Harry, startled, said quickly, "No."
"What do you mean 'No'? You don't have a choice. We're kicking you out."
"I'll tell Dumbledore."
"You wouldn't DARE!!" snarled Uncle Vernon.
"Oh yes I would. I can do magic out of school now. So don't mess with me," Harry glared, mad that of all people, the Dursleys had to be the ones to get to his weak side.
Uncle Vernon, eyes popping out, managed to breathe out, "Get out."
"Oh yeah, you're going to have to remove the fireplace. Ron's flooing here to pick me up on July 25th. On that day, you'll be gone from my life forever. Thank Merlin."
Uncle Vernon stared at Harry stalking out of the shelter, a little unsteady on his feet. His face brightened at the thought of Harry gone, but frowned at his dislike of removing the fake fireplace, which had cost him a fortune.
When Harry got to his room, he started to breathe again. He lay on his bed. He was still very sorrowful about Sirius. He had to forget about it though… to get on with his life… not to have anyone close to him anymore… it was the only way… that way, no one would get hurt by him… the only friends he would have would be Ron and Hermione…
Harry sighed. Soon, he was going to have to murder someone… or he was going to be murdered. It was going to be very soon. He could feel it – in his heart and his scar. Voldemort had been lying low for some time now, he was gathering his full power, and was going to strike soon. Harry pulled a blanket over his head, and after a few hours, fell asleep.
A/N Should I continue this story??? Please review and tell me!!! Thanks!!