Hey there guys,

This is Foxlover here with a brand spanking new story. Sorry for the wait, I was just in a slump and all the other junk. Other times I was just being lazy. Well here's the new installment of my stories. I hope you all read and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own or control any of the works of J.K Rowling namely the Harry Potter Series.

Note: This story takes place in the 5th book.

Chapter One: Track One

Black Night, dark sky. The Devils Cry. That was all in the darkness. She stood. Waiting. Watching. Something was wrong. Walking down the dark corridor she stopped.

"The smell of demons," she said out loud "Calls to me." She finished.

With a flash of red light and a sickening stench there appeared seven demons. All of them symbolized the seven deadly sins. Lust, Greed, Wrath, Gluttony, Envy, Sloth, and Pride.

Pulling out her sword Feroz Demonic she hacked and slashed her way through the crowd of demons. She sang under her breath as she stepped to the beat. "We are falling, the light is calling, tears inside me, calm me down."

Parry, slash, kick backhand, destroy. It was a dance. An endless waltz. However, she didn't dance much and this orchestra had played its last note. She pulled out the big guns. Literally. Negro y Blanco. Made just for her hands. Big guns with holy water bullets.. Oh yeah, this fight is definitely over. Seven shots, seven demons.

"I thought this was going to be one hell of a party." She mumbled to herself, shrugging her shoulders.. Holstering her weapons she sluggishly walked into the next room. Who knew what was behind that door. That was the fun part about it. She smirked.

Boring. Yeah, that would about sum it up. He lay under the hydrangea bush.. His aunt and uncle sat on their asses in the cool house with at least three fans going. They weren't going to pay for the A/C and they just were going to waste electricity. Boy it was hot. Did they care about the scrawny boy? Nope. In fact they didn't even know he was under the bush seeking the shade.

He worked his butt off. Day in and day out he worked for them and at the end of the day all he got was a stale piece of bread and a moldy lump of cheese. He didn't complain. He knew it was no use. They were cruel people and he had to live with it. He couldn't wait when until he turned 17. He'd jump on his broom and fly away into the sunset. He was so looking forward to that day. Right now he had to pull weeds in the garden.

The only sounds that were being made in the abandoned castle was the sound of combat boot and the clinking of trinkets. A cross necklace, six silver bracelets on one arm and a chain wrapped around six times on the other arm. Three earrings in one ear and two earrings in one ear and a stud in the other. With a cigarette hanging from her mouth she hummed a slow funeral march in time with her feet. It was the rhythm that kept her going. The rhythm of the song and the song blasted in her head. It was first song at the dance. To a life long party.