6/29/09
Here is chapter one. I actually wrote this before I wrote the prologue and really like this better. I suppose that's because I wrote the prologue while my depression was really bad. Anyway, I decided this would serve better as a chapter, seeing as it just starts out of the blue.
As for thank yous… Come on. One review? Just one? I'm normally not picky because I get at least three, but one? It almost makes me want to discontinue writing when I get such a weak critical response. Thank you, Lord Loveless, for your consideration. Other readers, written feedback would be most appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but I did invent the Vire Clan.
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Harry Potter was in distress. Here he lay on a leafy forest floor, at the mercy of two rather large Death Eaters. They laughed heartily as they kicked at him with their sharp leather boots, enjoying the yips of pain that escaped his mouth. Yes, yips. For Harry Potter wasn't quite himself at the moment. In fact, he doubted the two men even knew who he was. Harry was currently in his animagus form and was in too much pain to morph back and use his wand. He wasn't aware if he could move properly or how far he'd get if he tried to flee, so he simply lay there, waiting for the men to tire of beating him. Hopefully it would be soon; his vision was starting to dim. He closed his eyes tiredly.
"Hey, I think the mutt's passed out," one of the men said, laughing.
Opening one eye, Harry saw a dark grin appear on the other man's face. He shivered. He heard a light click and saw a glint of light on a sharp blade.
'No…' He couldn't move.
The man bent over, picking Harry up by the scruff of the neck. It hurt, considering the amount of weight that small area of flesh was holding up. The man brought the knife to the flesh of his right shoulder, quickly piercing it and making its way beneath his fur. 'It hurts! It hurts!' The pain was too much. Soon he would loose consciousness. 'Help..'
"Marten! Petterson! What do you think you're doing?!" came a harsh, cold voice from behind the Death Eaters. Both men froze in fear, and Harry soon learned why. Standing in the moonlight, pale as death himself, was Lord Voldemort. If he had any energy left, Harry would have bolted out of the forest fast as lightning. However, as it was, he couldn't. All he could do was stare in terror as his worst enemy of nearly five years made his way ever closer to him. A long, low whimper escaped him and Voldemort's head snapped to stare at him. Their eyes locked momentarily and Voldemort's narrowed. He looked up at his Death Eaters and raised his wand at them. "Crucio!" Both men writhed in agony. Harry hit the ground hard, having been released from his captor's grip. Another whimper as he tried in vain to rise and flee; his body was too weak. He lay there a few moments, barely registering the yelling going on above him.
"How dare you fool around when you're supposed to be patrolling the area for the Vire Clan?! How dare you slack on your duties?! Crucio!"
More screams. Panting. The yelling voice again.
"Get back to your posts, IMMEDIATELY!!!!"
"Yes, My Lord!"
Harry heard rushed footsteps crunching the fallen leaves, then silence. He felt hands on him and he jumped slightly when they gently stroked through his raven fur. 'Nm… That feels nice.' His tail thumped softly against the ground. 'Ow.' He stopped. A hand stroked the scruffy appendage and a pleased sound escaped his throat He had completely forgotten who was petting him. Before he knew it he was being levitated away from the clearing and into the thick woods. The darkness was calm and relaxing; he liked the dark. Soon it was all he saw as he drifted off into sweet nothingness.
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Lord Voldemort was in a very bad mood. Not only had negotiations with the Vire Clan not gone well, but also they had fled their territory to avoid being bothered by "those stupid wizards." He let out a deep-throated growl. How dare they ignore him?! HIM! Lord Voldemort! "I'll get them on my side yet," he murmured as he made his way through the thick forest in search of the creatures. He and his Death Eaters had searched the woods for hours and would continue until they were found. "The vampires will greatly increase our strength," he had shouted at them. And it was true. With the largest vampire clan in Europe on his side, along with the werewolves and other dark creatures he had already persuaded to join him, his army would be invincible. He knew that with his followers searching diligently for them, he would soon be able to confront the head vampire and hopefully force him into submission. Or so he thought. It wasn't long before the Dark Lord came upon two of his men goofing about in a clearing. This only served to enrage him further. "Marten! Petterson! What do you think you're doing?!"
His men froze, slowly turning to look at him, fear obvious on both their faces. Oh how he loved that look, but he would save the memory for later pleasure. Right now he had to deal with the slackers appropriately. He removed his wand from his robes and was about to go into one of his threatening speeches when he heard a soft whimper. He snapped his head in the direction of the noise and stared at a large black dog, limp in Marten's hand. For a moment his scarlet eyes met with the haunting green orbs of the animal. A strangely familiar feeling entered the Dark Lord's chest at the pain he saw in those eyes and he turned his attention back to the two who had done this. "Crucio!" The dog dropped to the ground next to his men. Through the screams he heard it whimper again and saw it try to push itself up, but to no avail. It was too weak to even stand. At this point Voldemort was livid, but decided to use a different explanation as to why he had punished his men.
"How dare you fool around when you're supposed to be patrolling the area for the Vire Clan?! How dare you slack on your duties?! Crucio!"
Both men writhed on the floor in agony, their screams and pleas falling on deaf ears. After a few minutes he released the curse, glaring down at the pathetic beings before him. "Get back to your posts, IMMEDIATELY!!!!"
"Yes, My Lord!" both men shouted as they tried their best to rise from the forest floor. After successfully standing, both men ran as fast as they could away from their Lord.
Voldemort listened, making sure they were both far enough away before he knelt down to examine the injured animal. The dog had been badly beaten and there was blood coming from a wound on its shoulder. Upon closer examination, he saw it to be a knife wound. The poor beast barely flinched as he gently stroked his hands through its soft fur. He watched as its tail began to wag softly for a few moments, and then stop. 'They probably got at that too,' he thought, stroking the long furry appendage, trying to sooth the pain. It made a pleased, deep grumbling noise. 'It won't last the night if I leave it here.' He stood from his crouched position and removed his wand once again. He muttered a levitation charm and watched as the dog rose from the ground into the air. He then began to walk slowly, keeping it slightly ahead of him as he made his way through the dark forest, sending a message through the Mark that the mission had ended for the night.
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There you have it. Let me know what you think (preferably through words).
No comments on grammatical errors, they will be fixed later. (I often overlook them when first posting.)
