Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
A/N: I decided to continue this story, since oh so many people loved it * rolls eyes * Anyways, I hope you can FIND this stupid story. You might have to read the first "If Ever A Star Shone Brighter" to get this one.
If Ever A Star Shone Brighter II: The Dark Goddess
Cornelius was weary. So many people have died, and Cornelius was left all alone.
No more Dumbledor to run to, or Harry Potter OR his friends- and unless 'Them' at the 'Unspeakable' department where mistaken, the Dark Lord was soon to be summoning a creature more powerful than any anyone has ever faced. And he was scared shitless.
. . . Then again, everyone was.
It became so evil, and wicked, those who actually lived, wished they where dead. Those who stood up for their rights, where quickly executed.
There was no mercy.
People where dyeing rapidly. Many refused to live in a World of evil, in which they could do little but watch, and most where just too weak.
In the Ideal World. . . only the strong survive.
But too many where dieing too fast.
Voldemort stood in the middle of his oh-so-popular throne room.
The very same room in which Harry Potter and Hermione Granger died. He stood in that very same place,
"Redemptor domine, REDEMPTOR DOMINE! FILI US PATRIS!! POTENT CONVIVIUM!!" He shouted, the wind rustled his ears, but he continued, shouting louder. The coffin in front of him glowed black, and cobalt neon blue. It stood vertically.
"TU!! PAUPER RUM!! REFUGIUM!!!"
The top of the coffin was ripped off to reveal a woman. She lay there, naked, and of a beautiful figure. A waist small enough to wrap ones arms around, a neck soft enough to nuzzle, hair long and lovely enough to run your hands through, eye-lashes long, lips so soft, like a rose-bud.
Her hair was black, her skin a milky white, and fair and un-blemished. Fingers long and elegant, with long nails. Bosom big enough to hold ones head against. Cheeks rosy, and legs shapely. One would say, she had all the right curves, in all the right places.
She was the perfect image of Venus in disguise. And no man could resist her.
Her arms where crossed over her chest, and her eyes opened to reveal beautiful round gray eyes that seemed to stare into your soul. She closed her eyes, took a step down from the coffin, put her hand on her hip, and opened her eyes again,
"What business have you with me?" She asked, voice like velvet, and sultry
"World Order."
"You have World Order, you have World Domination. What more could you ask for?" She asked, but didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she walked gracefully up to Voldemort, and her hair that fell down to the back of her knees swayed with every graceful step she took. Her hand went up to Voldemorts' cheek, and her light crystal gray eyes searched his face curiously,
"Mabe it isn't World Order you wish for," she said thoughtfully, "But a companion?"
Voldemort said nothing, but stood stiffly,
"Someone to fill your lonely nights, someone to be by your side?" her eyes where misty, staring up at him,
Voldemort held his head high, "Many are dyeing,"
She chuckled softly, "Like this matters?"
"If people die, there will be hardly any reason to have the World."
"People are such a bother anyways. What can I do about your little problem?"
"You can solve it," he said, as he gestured to a Death Eater off to his right.
Her misty eyes turned to eyes of sadness, and the warm hand that was pressed against his cheek was brought down to cover her mouth. She turned off to the side, as she coughed violently.
"Bring her some clothes. You will do everything she says, or shall suffer the consequence."
The girl looked up thankfully at the bowed Death Eater,
"Your Majesty," if it was possible, he bowed even lower
"Please, call me Enigma."
A renewed hope spread throughout the World. They where curious of this mysterious Enigma. Voldemort called a grand ball in honor of her, and only the great where invited to meet this supposed 'Goddess of Hell'.
And alas, the grand ball had come. Many from all four corners of 'Hell' came, for they did not call it the World anymore.
"Monarchs of Hell, Duchesses of Evil, and Dark Lords, hear my voice!" cried Voldemort, "Scumbags of this rotten World, prepare to hale a new Queen!"
The crowd cheered, clapped, and cried as the beautiful dark Goddess walked down the stairs. She wore a long black dress, and was bedecked in the finest of black opal necklaces and rings, arms bedecked in silver and steel bracelets. Even in her long beautiful hair, silver pearls where scattered by a careless hand. But through all this dark accessories, it did nothing to dim her beautiful luminescent glow. Her dress was V-necked, and her sleeves here long and flowing, the dress fit to her shapely body perfectly, and opened flowingly at the bottom.
She merely looked at them, her head held high. As she descended to the bottom step, she gave Voldemort her hand, and he bent down to kiss it.
"You KNOW that we cannot resurrect the dead, Cornelius. 'Tis a common fact!" shouted Mr. Diggory, (who was forced to move into a higher rank of office since everyone already new about Witches and Wizards.
"No, that was then! This is now! I mean, look at the way we've developed!"
"HA! DEVELOPED??!! A DARK LORD HAS TAKEN OVER THE FUCKING WORLD AND YOU CALL THIS DEVELOPED?!"
"In a way-"
"NO, Cornelius!"
"People have to have a reason to live! They have to live for SOMETHING! SOME hope, some light at the end of the tunnel!"
"We have no chance. We lost everyone!"
"Mabe, mabe not. . ."
Meanwhile, in the dinner Hall in Voldemorts Castle, the feast had begun. The people had relaxed by now, by seeing the certain acts of generosity from the Goddess Enigma, or so they called her.
Acts, you ask?
Well, there was one point in the whole coronation when a simple citizen stumbled into the hall and threw himself on the floor in front of the Goddess and started screaming and crying. The man appeared to be crazed, or possessed. People where murmuring in dismay, and it wasn't until the crazed man had broken the Ambassador of Russia's neck and started eating his vocal cords did someone actually do something about it. The Death Eaters finally held him down and cast a body-bind on him. Enigma then walked up to him, and wrapped her arms around him, her hand pressing the mans face slightly into her bosom, her eyes closed. The man then wrapped his around around her, and they stood there, just holding each other, their eyes closed. Then, a slightly purple light seemed to radiate from them, and the soon the man fell to the floor in dead faint. She opened her eyes, turned, and walked away, leaving the man in the middle of the floor sleeping soundly.
Some people, however, where foolish enough to get drunk in the Goddess' presence, and acted exceedingly stupid.
"You know, Enigma," stated the Prime Minister of Canada after he had a few very strong shots of liquor and fluent conversations with the Goddess, "It's funny to think that when I first met you, I actually thought you where the evil concubine of Voldie over there!" he barked out a laugh, but then he suddenly sombered, and his hand strayed to the inside of her thigh as he said, "But then again, why would you be HIS concubine, when you could be MY whore?"
At this, she stood up sharply, brought down her hand swiftly, and a second later, the Prime Minister, (not having enough time to move), was sitting still in his chair, mouth slightly open in an o, his eyes wide, and suddenly, his head slid off his neck and fell to the floor, the wound of which was smoking. The guests suddenly hushed at this sudden movement, and some women scream at the sight of the Prime Ministers head falling to the floor. Enigma looked disgustedly at her fore-arm which was colored in crimson blood and falling to the floor,
"Someone get me a towel," she said, still staring at her arm, "And quickly. For his blood is not worthy of my arm."
The Goddess seemed to be kind, and caring, as well as powerful, and sharp.
She was a good friend, but not one to mess with. The Goddess Enigma seemed to be everyones light at the end of this dark tunnel. Many men who first glimpsed her fell in love with her, so a rule was set: any man who comes into the presence of this mighty Goddess was to bow his head, and never look up at her unless she bids him to do so.
This supposed Goddess, however, didn't seem to like to be around people.
She stayed in the suclusion of her rich lavish room, weather in the deep thick covers of her four-poster bed, or sitting in a chair by the window, looking out into the darkened World or reading a book.
No one in the right mind would disturb her.
A/N: Boy did I have fun writing this sequel.
A/N: I decided to continue this story, since oh so many people loved it * rolls eyes * Anyways, I hope you can FIND this stupid story. You might have to read the first "If Ever A Star Shone Brighter" to get this one.
If Ever A Star Shone Brighter II: The Dark Goddess
Cornelius was weary. So many people have died, and Cornelius was left all alone.
No more Dumbledor to run to, or Harry Potter OR his friends- and unless 'Them' at the 'Unspeakable' department where mistaken, the Dark Lord was soon to be summoning a creature more powerful than any anyone has ever faced. And he was scared shitless.
. . . Then again, everyone was.
It became so evil, and wicked, those who actually lived, wished they where dead. Those who stood up for their rights, where quickly executed.
There was no mercy.
People where dyeing rapidly. Many refused to live in a World of evil, in which they could do little but watch, and most where just too weak.
In the Ideal World. . . only the strong survive.
But too many where dieing too fast.
Voldemort stood in the middle of his oh-so-popular throne room.
The very same room in which Harry Potter and Hermione Granger died. He stood in that very same place,
"Redemptor domine, REDEMPTOR DOMINE! FILI US PATRIS!! POTENT CONVIVIUM!!" He shouted, the wind rustled his ears, but he continued, shouting louder. The coffin in front of him glowed black, and cobalt neon blue. It stood vertically.
"TU!! PAUPER RUM!! REFUGIUM!!!"
The top of the coffin was ripped off to reveal a woman. She lay there, naked, and of a beautiful figure. A waist small enough to wrap ones arms around, a neck soft enough to nuzzle, hair long and lovely enough to run your hands through, eye-lashes long, lips so soft, like a rose-bud.
Her hair was black, her skin a milky white, and fair and un-blemished. Fingers long and elegant, with long nails. Bosom big enough to hold ones head against. Cheeks rosy, and legs shapely. One would say, she had all the right curves, in all the right places.
She was the perfect image of Venus in disguise. And no man could resist her.
Her arms where crossed over her chest, and her eyes opened to reveal beautiful round gray eyes that seemed to stare into your soul. She closed her eyes, took a step down from the coffin, put her hand on her hip, and opened her eyes again,
"What business have you with me?" She asked, voice like velvet, and sultry
"World Order."
"You have World Order, you have World Domination. What more could you ask for?" She asked, but didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she walked gracefully up to Voldemort, and her hair that fell down to the back of her knees swayed with every graceful step she took. Her hand went up to Voldemorts' cheek, and her light crystal gray eyes searched his face curiously,
"Mabe it isn't World Order you wish for," she said thoughtfully, "But a companion?"
Voldemort said nothing, but stood stiffly,
"Someone to fill your lonely nights, someone to be by your side?" her eyes where misty, staring up at him,
Voldemort held his head high, "Many are dyeing,"
She chuckled softly, "Like this matters?"
"If people die, there will be hardly any reason to have the World."
"People are such a bother anyways. What can I do about your little problem?"
"You can solve it," he said, as he gestured to a Death Eater off to his right.
Her misty eyes turned to eyes of sadness, and the warm hand that was pressed against his cheek was brought down to cover her mouth. She turned off to the side, as she coughed violently.
"Bring her some clothes. You will do everything she says, or shall suffer the consequence."
The girl looked up thankfully at the bowed Death Eater,
"Your Majesty," if it was possible, he bowed even lower
"Please, call me Enigma."
A renewed hope spread throughout the World. They where curious of this mysterious Enigma. Voldemort called a grand ball in honor of her, and only the great where invited to meet this supposed 'Goddess of Hell'.
And alas, the grand ball had come. Many from all four corners of 'Hell' came, for they did not call it the World anymore.
"Monarchs of Hell, Duchesses of Evil, and Dark Lords, hear my voice!" cried Voldemort, "Scumbags of this rotten World, prepare to hale a new Queen!"
The crowd cheered, clapped, and cried as the beautiful dark Goddess walked down the stairs. She wore a long black dress, and was bedecked in the finest of black opal necklaces and rings, arms bedecked in silver and steel bracelets. Even in her long beautiful hair, silver pearls where scattered by a careless hand. But through all this dark accessories, it did nothing to dim her beautiful luminescent glow. Her dress was V-necked, and her sleeves here long and flowing, the dress fit to her shapely body perfectly, and opened flowingly at the bottom.
She merely looked at them, her head held high. As she descended to the bottom step, she gave Voldemort her hand, and he bent down to kiss it.
"You KNOW that we cannot resurrect the dead, Cornelius. 'Tis a common fact!" shouted Mr. Diggory, (who was forced to move into a higher rank of office since everyone already new about Witches and Wizards.
"No, that was then! This is now! I mean, look at the way we've developed!"
"HA! DEVELOPED??!! A DARK LORD HAS TAKEN OVER THE FUCKING WORLD AND YOU CALL THIS DEVELOPED?!"
"In a way-"
"NO, Cornelius!"
"People have to have a reason to live! They have to live for SOMETHING! SOME hope, some light at the end of the tunnel!"
"We have no chance. We lost everyone!"
"Mabe, mabe not. . ."
Meanwhile, in the dinner Hall in Voldemorts Castle, the feast had begun. The people had relaxed by now, by seeing the certain acts of generosity from the Goddess Enigma, or so they called her.
Acts, you ask?
Well, there was one point in the whole coronation when a simple citizen stumbled into the hall and threw himself on the floor in front of the Goddess and started screaming and crying. The man appeared to be crazed, or possessed. People where murmuring in dismay, and it wasn't until the crazed man had broken the Ambassador of Russia's neck and started eating his vocal cords did someone actually do something about it. The Death Eaters finally held him down and cast a body-bind on him. Enigma then walked up to him, and wrapped her arms around him, her hand pressing the mans face slightly into her bosom, her eyes closed. The man then wrapped his around around her, and they stood there, just holding each other, their eyes closed. Then, a slightly purple light seemed to radiate from them, and the soon the man fell to the floor in dead faint. She opened her eyes, turned, and walked away, leaving the man in the middle of the floor sleeping soundly.
Some people, however, where foolish enough to get drunk in the Goddess' presence, and acted exceedingly stupid.
"You know, Enigma," stated the Prime Minister of Canada after he had a few very strong shots of liquor and fluent conversations with the Goddess, "It's funny to think that when I first met you, I actually thought you where the evil concubine of Voldie over there!" he barked out a laugh, but then he suddenly sombered, and his hand strayed to the inside of her thigh as he said, "But then again, why would you be HIS concubine, when you could be MY whore?"
At this, she stood up sharply, brought down her hand swiftly, and a second later, the Prime Minister, (not having enough time to move), was sitting still in his chair, mouth slightly open in an o, his eyes wide, and suddenly, his head slid off his neck and fell to the floor, the wound of which was smoking. The guests suddenly hushed at this sudden movement, and some women scream at the sight of the Prime Ministers head falling to the floor. Enigma looked disgustedly at her fore-arm which was colored in crimson blood and falling to the floor,
"Someone get me a towel," she said, still staring at her arm, "And quickly. For his blood is not worthy of my arm."
The Goddess seemed to be kind, and caring, as well as powerful, and sharp.
She was a good friend, but not one to mess with. The Goddess Enigma seemed to be everyones light at the end of this dark tunnel. Many men who first glimpsed her fell in love with her, so a rule was set: any man who comes into the presence of this mighty Goddess was to bow his head, and never look up at her unless she bids him to do so.
This supposed Goddess, however, didn't seem to like to be around people.
She stayed in the suclusion of her rich lavish room, weather in the deep thick covers of her four-poster bed, or sitting in a chair by the window, looking out into the darkened World or reading a book.
No one in the right mind would disturb her.
A/N: Boy did I have fun writing this sequel.