My first harry potter fanfic. (OC warning) The first chapter is just a
refresher from what happened at the end of book four (that's where my story
starts as I haven't read the 5th book yet because it *still* hasn't come up
~sniffes~. Anyway I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing
it. And yes it is going to get more angsty, it's just that it's 3 am and as
mentioned above I had to remind everyone of what happened and those who
never read harry potter (they have no idea what their missing) might have a
slight idea of what's going on now.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything of the likes
**
Introduction
*// I was there when it started, I will be there when it ends. I felt it in my bones even before the burning on my back began. He had risen again. I was there, as one of the first, masked and cloaked. I was nonetheless last to bow, last to sink as low as to kiss his robe. I had never liked listening to anyone; but I was there. I was there to see his bickering servant lie upon the ground, mutilated, to resurrect our master. Then my gaze landed upon the boy, the fault of all this. I looked upon his fragile form, restricted to the tombstone, with such contemptuous hate I'd make even my own blood curl.
But my hate turned to amusement. This was the boy who overwhelmed our master? *This* boy. The frail teen, wild dark hair concealing his eyes, scar softly illuminated on his forehead. I had overestimated him. Imagined him differently. How ironic fate can be, making *him* the boy. who. lived . The master smelt guilt. It has been 13 years, I was only 2 then, since all us death eaters were united in one place. Well maybe not all. He threw meaningless preaches at us. I had only learned about what my life is about 4 years ago and I had never sworn loyalty. My family and I did *not* run back to the enemies and we would *never* turn to Dumbledor. Being at his school was horrid enough.
Ha! Avery, he deserved what came to him. But then. God! Stupid Wormtail, what a suck-up! Getting all the credit. Hell, if I had known the reward of killing, mutilating myself and screeching some spells I would have been there before you can say 'Loyal'. Then my master and his so-called 'downfall' had their little moment. The temptation to call out and tell them to get a room was very tempting, but I intend on dying of a natural cause. When Master Voldemort used the curse on him I was comfortably smug, seeing Potter cringe was worth it. Worth standing here in a heavy black cloak. Beads of perspiration ran down my face (the half mask of mine wasn't very 'air-permeable') and I had to bite my lip hard as not to yawn.
We filled the gaps, as we were moving in. The master inquired whether Potter had ever dueled with a smirk on his face. He sneered at him and made us smirk too, when he forced Potter to give a clumsy bow. He hit him good with a curse and the boy went on staggering against us and we pushed him back. Then Potter was hit by the Imperius curse. We were awed when he didn't do as the master commanded. It wasn't much longer until a change came upon the boy. He stood up, almost proud. Our lord's wand shot venom like green jet, whilst from Potter's a neon red jet erupted.
They clashed together and all of a sudden the two were connected. We stood in silence, not daring to move or come to our master's aid, not even Wormtail did. The silence broke when the two were raised and moved a few leagues away. As quick as our nerves allowed us we re-formed the circle. A beautiful, sourceless sound appeared just after a cage of light surrounded the two enemies. After that everything happened quickly. One ghost, then another came out of the wand of our master, first as clouds of mist, then taking on features of people. All in all I counted five. They wandered around as if they were talking to them, looking encouraging at the younger and almost literally hissing at Lord Voldemort.
Then the last moments approached and Potter broke the connection. He ran for the Portkey in hopes of returning. All of us pulled out our wand and started calling out spells. Our master cried for us to stop, he intended on killing him, but it was too late. The boy called a spell to the Portkey, which immediately flew towards him, and in the blink of an eye he disappeared, along with the body of the other boy. The master shouted in anguish and I stepped further back to stay out of the way of his wrath. I stumbled over Lucius, who I never could stand anyway and came to the conclusion that this was still not the end. I let out a well-deserved sigh and pulled the cloak shut. The action was over and it was getting cold ...
That was a year ago. Many are preparing, both good and bad, for what was bound to come. Many of us death eaters turned to underground business. Next to me there weren't many others that stood amongst many other children, showing fake enthusiasm and waiting for the Hogwarts Express, which was to take me into my 6th year. //*
** TBC
Plz r & r Tell me what you think!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything of the likes
**
Introduction
*// I was there when it started, I will be there when it ends. I felt it in my bones even before the burning on my back began. He had risen again. I was there, as one of the first, masked and cloaked. I was nonetheless last to bow, last to sink as low as to kiss his robe. I had never liked listening to anyone; but I was there. I was there to see his bickering servant lie upon the ground, mutilated, to resurrect our master. Then my gaze landed upon the boy, the fault of all this. I looked upon his fragile form, restricted to the tombstone, with such contemptuous hate I'd make even my own blood curl.
But my hate turned to amusement. This was the boy who overwhelmed our master? *This* boy. The frail teen, wild dark hair concealing his eyes, scar softly illuminated on his forehead. I had overestimated him. Imagined him differently. How ironic fate can be, making *him* the boy. who. lived . The master smelt guilt. It has been 13 years, I was only 2 then, since all us death eaters were united in one place. Well maybe not all. He threw meaningless preaches at us. I had only learned about what my life is about 4 years ago and I had never sworn loyalty. My family and I did *not* run back to the enemies and we would *never* turn to Dumbledor. Being at his school was horrid enough.
Ha! Avery, he deserved what came to him. But then. God! Stupid Wormtail, what a suck-up! Getting all the credit. Hell, if I had known the reward of killing, mutilating myself and screeching some spells I would have been there before you can say 'Loyal'. Then my master and his so-called 'downfall' had their little moment. The temptation to call out and tell them to get a room was very tempting, but I intend on dying of a natural cause. When Master Voldemort used the curse on him I was comfortably smug, seeing Potter cringe was worth it. Worth standing here in a heavy black cloak. Beads of perspiration ran down my face (the half mask of mine wasn't very 'air-permeable') and I had to bite my lip hard as not to yawn.
We filled the gaps, as we were moving in. The master inquired whether Potter had ever dueled with a smirk on his face. He sneered at him and made us smirk too, when he forced Potter to give a clumsy bow. He hit him good with a curse and the boy went on staggering against us and we pushed him back. Then Potter was hit by the Imperius curse. We were awed when he didn't do as the master commanded. It wasn't much longer until a change came upon the boy. He stood up, almost proud. Our lord's wand shot venom like green jet, whilst from Potter's a neon red jet erupted.
They clashed together and all of a sudden the two were connected. We stood in silence, not daring to move or come to our master's aid, not even Wormtail did. The silence broke when the two were raised and moved a few leagues away. As quick as our nerves allowed us we re-formed the circle. A beautiful, sourceless sound appeared just after a cage of light surrounded the two enemies. After that everything happened quickly. One ghost, then another came out of the wand of our master, first as clouds of mist, then taking on features of people. All in all I counted five. They wandered around as if they were talking to them, looking encouraging at the younger and almost literally hissing at Lord Voldemort.
Then the last moments approached and Potter broke the connection. He ran for the Portkey in hopes of returning. All of us pulled out our wand and started calling out spells. Our master cried for us to stop, he intended on killing him, but it was too late. The boy called a spell to the Portkey, which immediately flew towards him, and in the blink of an eye he disappeared, along with the body of the other boy. The master shouted in anguish and I stepped further back to stay out of the way of his wrath. I stumbled over Lucius, who I never could stand anyway and came to the conclusion that this was still not the end. I let out a well-deserved sigh and pulled the cloak shut. The action was over and it was getting cold ...
That was a year ago. Many are preparing, both good and bad, for what was bound to come. Many of us death eaters turned to underground business. Next to me there weren't many others that stood amongst many other children, showing fake enthusiasm and waiting for the Hogwarts Express, which was to take me into my 6th year. //*
** TBC
Plz r & r Tell me what you think!