Prince of Shadows;Slave to Power
Chapter 1: Lord Voldemort Summons the King of Fire
Disclaimer: None of the recognizable Harry Potter characters belong to me. King Plamen and other original Characters are mine however. But most of the credit and inspiration for this story comes from the wonderful world of JK Rowling.
The pale, skeletal hand traced one more rune across the hall floor. Drawn with the blood of tortured muggles; one muggle dead for each of the 78 runes. But muggles were muggles, good for nothing. Except for this.
The strange shapes seemed to merge together as the hand lifted for the last time. Glowing black, then red, then a frightening eery green. The room, lit with hundreds of torches plunged into darkness. The man in the center let his lips turn upwards at the strange feeling the took over the hall. A feeling of magic; wild and untamed. A feeling of evil; raw and hating. A wind sifted through the his robe-like clothing, though no window existed. He felt it before he saw it. A new figure, slumped against the wall. The stranger's heavy panting breaking the mystical silence.
The first man, the rune-drawer, stepped a bit closer. A wand clutched in his hand set the room alight. The magical glow fell over the stranger, revealing to the wizard his tattered robes that spoke of lost glory; the tarnished blade at his side; and a chipped crown on his head. His voice was like his appearance, it told of former glory and power; raspy and harsh. "Who are you?"
"I, I am Lord Voldemort." The skeletal man's voice hissed back. A slight smirk on his pale lips. "And I am the one the summoned you back from hell. You will obey me."
A rusty laugh echoed through the hall. "Obey you? Why?"
"I will lift you to your former glory. Swear to serve me and I will seat you on your old throne." The self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort leant in even closer to the tattered stranger. "I have the power; you can feel it."
The bent figured lifted his head, ever so slightly, revealing his black as night eyes that glittered with suppressed heat. A scar, jagged and broken, ran down from his right ear to his chin, still reddened from an old injury. Lord Voldemort seemed entranced by the crooked wound, leaning in even farther, his cold breath whispering over the figure's ear. "You will once again be King; king Plamen, Lord of Fire."
Raging blue eyes rose to meet red as the figure let the lust for power cloud his mind. "I will serve. Make me king."
A/N: Short chapter, mostly just a prelude. This will not take place during the regular Harry Potter books, will instead take place during the Marauders' Era, but will hopefully continue on to the Harry Potter years. It will be a complete AU with its main character being an OC. There will be SLASH.