HORCRUXES
Dark Moon Dust
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Disclaimer
I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.
Author's Notes
This idea might have been used before, but I'm planning on writing 7 different sections to this story – one for each of the Horcruxes and how they might have been or how they were found. Some of them will follow the actual storyline quite closely, while others will veer off on a completely different tangent. To tell the truth, the original idea for this came from my dissatisfaction in reading the 7th book. Throughout the entirety of it, I was waiting for J.K. Rowling to dispel some of the stereotypes surrounding the actual Slytherin house, as well as some of the students. But to my disappointment, most of their characters remained rather static. So I decided to write my own version of how Harry Potter could have found the Horcruxes.
Warnings
There are a couple of dark themes that I have planned to incorporate into this story so far. Nothing else yet, though be warned once again that most of these excerpts will not follow the actual storyline.
Now, let the story begin…
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Artefact I: Tom Riddle's Diary
As the Basilisk's fang pierced through the black diary, a scream echoed far off in the distance. The once hard cover of the book gurgled around the edge of the tooth, staining it with its bile. It slid off of the tip and fell pooling onto the floor around Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, who had just thrust the fang through the dark book.
As the last of the now liquefied diary dripped onto the floor, the boy suddenly felt nauseous. Pain shot through his arm where the Basilisk's fang had pierced him. He grasped a hand to it, almost clawing at the open wound because of the excruciating pain. With his head bowed to the ground, and the stained fang now lying at his side, he thought that it was the end for him – the end for the Boy-Who-Lived.
A faint screech resounded above him, but he did not hear it, for the poison was numbing his senses.
Something landed on his arm, and he turned to see what it was, but he couldn't even move a muscle. There was a faint murmuring in the background, as though someone were crying, though he knew that couldn't be true for there was no one else here but him.
Images of his friends, Ron and Hermione, filled his vision. From the first day of school all the way to this current moment. Seamus, Dean, and god, even Malfoy. Everything. Every moment. Dudley. Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon. Hedwig. Hagrid. Dumbledore. Everyone. And the moment that his life had changed forever. His Hogwarts letter.
'I'm dying…'
A last thought – one filled with the sorrow of never being able to see the light of day again, of never being able to see any of his friends ever again.
He felt like crying. But, no matter how much he tried, no tears would form. A hand reached forward, feebly trying to grasp something, anything. But there was nothing.
Nothing.
Then blackness overtook him.
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Comments: Like it? Hate it? Got constructive criticism?
