Harry Potter and the Trio of Darkness
By: Final Spirit
-Origin-
This story begins not at number 4 Privet Drive, but far, far away, in the deepest and darkest forest of Albania. Before the Boy-Who-Lived was born, the dark Lord Voldemort ruled. And in his wake, was born a force powerful enough to conquer the world, yet unknown to the world around it.
"Wormtail?" spoke a dark ominous voice. Lord Voldemort sat upon his throne, looking upon his servant who worked heavily laboring his task. It was a task of great importance to Lord Voldemort, one that would determine his rule among the entire wizarding world.
Wormtail scurried forward and fell to his knees before his master. "Y...yes my Lord?"
Glaring upon his servant with an expression of annoyance, Voldmort's voice rang out, mirroring his expression. "Is the potion nearing completion?" he demanded.
"Almost my master...almost-" Wormtail whimpered, but was then cut short as screams of pain erupted from his mouth.
"Crucio!" Lord Voldemort shouted as he pointed his wand at Wormtail. The servant's screams could be heard for miles around, but Lord Voldemort cared not. When he decided that he had tortured this pathetic fool enough, he lowered his wand, breaking the spell. "You are a weak and worthless fool, Wormtail. However, I am still in need of you. Finish the task before I decide to dispose of you."
"T...th...thank you. Thank you m...master," Wormtail stuttered as scurried to the cauldron in the back of the chamber. He worked tirelessly, stirring the potion in a rhythmic fashion as he threw in the designated ingredients. Hours seemed to have passed before the exhausted Wormtail crawled to before his Lord. "Master, it is done. The last ingredient..." he trailed off.
"Yes, the last ingredient," Voldemort agreed, smirking. This last ingrediant was the most important of them all. It would shape this weapon he was creating, and seal it to his will.
As Lord Voldemort arose from his throne, Wormtail scurried from before him and bowed at his side. "After you, my Lord."
Please with his servant, Voldemort smiled darkly. "Thank you Wormtail, this deed will not go forgotten." Walking down the chamber towards the cauldron, which was now sparking pitch black, the Dark Lord took long and paced steps, his mind filled with glorious anticipation. Standing before the cauldron, Voldemort opened his spider-like hand and thrust it in his servant's pathetic face. "Hand me my dagger Wormtail," the Dark Lord commanded.
Scurrying back, Wormtail scrounged among the Dark Lord's possessions until he found that which his master desired. Grabbing the ceremonial dagger tentatively, he scurried back to his master reprehensively.
Snatching the dagger from his servant's dirty hand, Voldemort's eyes glittered evilly. "To creation, and destruction!" he said raising the dagger.
Lowering it slowly, he slit the palm of his spider-like hand, letting the deep red blood run free. He turned his hand over and allowed the blood to steadily drip into the potion.
Upon the first drop of blood, the potion turned a deep red, a red as deep as blood. As the fumes and smoke began to fill the chamber, Voldemort began chanting in an unknown language. "Ego tribuo meus cruor libere, utor is…partum unus prognatus of meus cruor…quod unus prognatus of meus animus! Hocruxia!"
With the last word, a dark light rose from Voldemort's chest. It hovered in the air for a few moments before soaring into the potion. Almost instantly, black fumes began flowing from the cauldron, filling the room.
Voldemort's icy laugh filled the room as he backed away from smoking cauldron, opening his arms in a welcoming manner. Soon, his plan would be complete, and he would be unstoppable.
With a flash of red light, everything stopped. The fumes cleared instantly; the cauldron was gone. And in its place, on the stone cold floor, rested a small and pale infant. The child did not cry, nor did it make a sound, it merely lied there, silently.
Unable to hold back his anticipation any longer, Voldemort's voice rang out. "Fetch me my heir Wormtail."
Without hesitation, the servant hurried forward and grabbed the infant from where it lay. He handed the child to his master, backing away slowly. "Are you pleased, my Lord?" he inquired with a look of anxiousness.
As soon as Voldemort gazed upon the child however, his smile faded. "You idiotic fool!" Voldemort shouted, his face contorted with rage. Wormtail scurried out of the way of his master's temper, hiding in a small corner pathetically. "My heir was to be exactly like me! This child is female!" Voldemort yelled, throwing the small child from his arms.
The infant gave a loud wail as it soared through the air, and just when it was inches away from the floor, it stopped in mid-air. The tiny infant merely floated there, silently, its snake-like, blood red eyes gazing upon its father's with an air of innocence.
Voldemort, cautiously eyeing the child, grabbed it from where it floated. As soon as it was in his arms, it began laughing. After an undecided expression, Voldemorts features melted into calmer state. "I have decided Wormtail, I will not kill you for your blunder. This child pleases me. She will live, and I shall keep her," the Dark Lord spoke with a expression of satisfaction on his face.
Shuffling forward from his dirty little corner, Wormtail cowered before his mater, sobbbing. "I-I….I am glad that you are p-pleased…my Lord…"
Pulling out his wand, Voldemort pressed the tip against the child's right mid-arm. He muttered a spell under his breath, and a tattoo of black skull with a snake protruded from its mouth appeared on the small arm of the infant. Although this was supposed to have inflicted some pain, the baby merely continued staring at its father.
"Now Wormtail…" Voldemort's voice boomed, "…for a name…"
Cowering before his master, Wormtail lowered his head. "Whatever you think is best, my Lord." Wormtail knew he was undeserving of naming his master's heir.
Voldemort stood there deep in thought for a few seconds, before inspiration finally came to him. One name, of death and darkness, was the perrfect one to fit his child. A name would instill fear upon all those who heard it….
"I have found the perfect name for my child," the Dark Lord announced, said causing Wormtail to look upon him in anticipation, "She shall furthermore be known as Lilith."
Wormtail gave a yelp of joy, "It is a fine name my Lord!"
Lifting his wand, Voldmort touched the mark on the infant's arm, causing it to turn jet black. A second later a swishing of cloaks was heard as many death eaters materialized around the Dark Lord, bowing.
The Dark Lord held up his child yelling ceremonially, smiling with an overjoyed satisfaction. "To my heir, Lilith!" This child would be the future leader of his death eater, and like the rest of the world, they would worship her along with him.
"Lilith! Lilith! Lilith!" they all began to chant, filling the room with an ominous air.
And then, thousands of miles away, 17 years later, a young girl awoke from the dream of her past to the terrified screams that illuminated throughout her home.