A/N: Dear God, I can't believe I'm writing a story like this. I mean how many times has this plot been used? It's pathetic really. But I need something to help me get out of writer's block.
So, please don't laugh at me or try and kill me for writing this instead of working on my other fics. Writers block is the worst feeling in the world! whimpers Pity me!
Well, moving on. I'm tying as fast as I can, whenever I can, but I recently got my schoolwork (I'm home schooled) and I really need to keep working on that, so the next updates should be rather late for GL and SD, Demon Lords, and, The Guardians. I'm so sorry! But any other author can sympathize, and agree, with me on the fact that trying to come up with half-decent chapters while trying to do Algebra is damn near impossible.
Math is the root of all-evil.
Money is good. Learning something that I most likely will never use in my life is bad.
Anywho, you didn't came here to hear me bitch and moan, - or read me . . . whatever.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything officially related to it. I'm not even sure if I own this plot. But the new characters you don't recognize are mine so don't steal them or if you want to use them, at least ask for my permission first.
Warnings: This fan fiction will (most likely) have SLASH in it, so if you don't like, don't read. I don't want people flaming me for the content of my stories, so I repeat, there WILL be SLASH (probably), as in two guys making out, and if this makes you sick run away as far and as fast as you can. Language and violence in later chapters.
Pairings/Couples: None so far
Spoilers for at least the first four books.
Enjoy this used-to-death plot and please, please review.
NEW Author's Notes: I've decided to go back and fix and re-write some parts of the story, in the hopes of making it better ("It can't get any worse" my subconscious mutters in the back of my mind. I poke it sharply with a pencil.) Then I will try and write new chapters to post.
P.S. Lots of things have happened in recent years, most notably; I moved out of my parent's house a year ago, I got a new boyfriend a year and a half ago, and my boyfriend was diagnosed with cancer last August, so I have a rather busy life. Posts might be slow. But anyone that actually read my stories before will be used to that...sorry. Thanks for reading! Hugs to all.
P.P.S. The original LC story will only be posted until I catch up and rewrite all the existing chapters. Then I'll remove it and this will be the only Light Child version.
Prologue: The Plan
"Wormtail." The hissing, whispering breath cut the warm, stagnant air like a cold, sharp knife, and caused a shudder to pass through the small group of dark, hooded, masked figures clustered at the end of the room. At the icy whispered command, as one, the cloaked mass parted to let the smallest member of their Order move to the front of the pack.
One of the men wearing long black robes stumbled forward. He was short in stature and even through his clothes, one could tell he was considerably plump around the middle. His robes were too long, and patched in places, the hems nothing but tatters. Unlike some of his other companions, whose clothes were the deepest of blacks, his were now a pale, natty gray. His breathe rasped through the air holes in his white and black mask. His dark, bulging, terrified eyes flashed rapidly from side to side, quick darting glances to no one in particular, just a habit formed after 12 years of hiding and constantly checking for an escape. None.
He trembled and kneeled, breath catching in his chest. On both knees he hunched over his thighs, sweat dripping forehead on the floor, and shaking hands pressed flat to either side of his head. One hand was stark white under the layer of dirt and dust and maybe blood. Thick, ugly blue veins trailed under the thin, nearly transparent flesh like twisted worms. The nails were chipped and broken and bleeding from too much fretting. Black dirt mixed with the blood to form crusty streaks and swirls over his stubby fingers. The other hand glinted pure silver, solid and strong, and perfect. Magic. "Master?" The pathetic man asks breathlessly, shoulders trembling. "You have need of me?"
A pale, too long finger taps the arm of a chair. tap-tap-tap ."Hmm," the purring sound comes from the same throat that emanated the chill hiss moments before. "Look at me, Wormtail, when I am speaking to you," The voice continues. The cowering man, Wormtail, flinches but slowly raises his head and shoulders and finally his eyes. "Much better, Wormtail." The voice sounds coldly amused.
A man – if he could be called that still – sat on a slightly raised dais in an ornately carved throne made of onyx, with intricately twining arms and legs, all in the shape of serpents. Their slitted eyes, glittering rubies, flashed with faux life in the candle light. "Have you found out where the he lives?" The human-like creature asked casually, deceptively calm, toying with the folds in his rich robes, splaying his pale spider-like hands over the carved hooded heads of his chair.
"Y-yes, my Lord." The small man stammered, lowering his forehead back to the stone floor as his voice falters.
The flat, snake-like face twitched, the pale lip-less mouth twisting into a parody of a smile. "Good." The cold voice sounded satisfied. "I want you and a group of Death-Eaters to bring him to me."
"B-but, my Lord, he is . . . well pr-protected . . . we would . . . n-never be able . . . to touch . . . him." The robed and hooded lump on the floor panted out, he was starting to shiver.
"Wormtail, do you think I'm stupid?" The man on the black throne asked quietly, his red slitted eyes blazing, seeming to glow in the semi-darkness of the chamber, matching the snakes' of his chair. Wormtail shuddered and moaned. "Do you think I would send anyone there, had I not found a way to disperse the protection barriers at his house?"
"N-no, my Lord."
"You will go to his house. You will bring him to me." The Master commanded in a voice that could have frozen winter's heart. "And you will not fail. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my Master." Wormtail was now trembling violently. The Death-Eaters behind him bowed simultaneously and chorused, "Yes, my Lord!"
"Now, Wormtail, I will teach you to never underestimate me or my plans again." He smiled and raised his wand.
"N-no m . . . my- lord . . . pl . . . please!"
"Crucio!"
The man arched his back and screamed, his cries echoed around the room, bouncing off the old stonewalls, as he writhed and twisted on the hard ground. Some of the Death-Eaters shifted, remembering their own time spent under that particular curse. The Lord finally lifted his wand and Wormtail huddled on the floor, panting and sobbing quietly.
"Go now, my Faithful Followers, bring me want I want. Bring me Harry Potter."
A/N: Well, that sucked. I hate this, but I'm so completely stuck on my other stories that this is all that I can come up with.
However, I'm still trying, so please be patient.
Read and Review.
You know what? It's probably better if you didn't, I really don't think I could take all the flames and swear words and death threats I most likely will be receiving soon.
Pray for me - Reine
