Author: Lee Velviet
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling, The W.B., Etc. are the proud owners of all this stuff-I own nothing! (Though I do admit to being insanely jealous-J.K. sweetie, can I get the name of your Muse? Heh-heh.)
Summary: Some of this Chapter is from Vol-:: sorry, Ron; don't get your Chudley Cannon's boxers in a bunch:: I mean, you–know-who's- POV. ^-^ Draco gets a pair-you'll see what I mean…
(A/N: My first step in my fiendish master plan! Muwahhahahaa! ::blinks:: Right. Anyway let me know if like where it's going or not. Your opinion counts! ^-^ I know there are going to be questions, so I'm going to have a few explanations at the bottom-if they don't answer them, e-mail or leave them in your review, and I'll try really hard to answer them.)
3. The Avatar Of The Darkness
The moon hung full and bright over the Forbidden forest-at the very heart of the forest, though, it's light did not reach-in this part of the forest; nature itself seemed subdued, as though life couldn't thrive here.
A wraithlike creature in a hooded black robe resided there, and it studied the moon only briefly before looking away-the creature's unnaturalness was at direct odds with the soft tranquility of the glowing orb.
Lord Voldemort eyed the pitch-blackness of the silent forest around him and was pleased-for he was a creature of the night, of the darkness, and his surroundings suited him.
The day was coming, soon, when he would be at his most powerful-his powers would rival that of the great Merlin himself-only they would not be wasted on the side of good.
Voldemort reflected on his destiny-he'd always known that he would do great things-ridding the world of annoying, useless, powerless Muggles would be one of the firsts on his agenda-right after dispatching the irritating boy child Harry Potter, once and for all.
This was proving increasingly difficult.
He'd known Harry Potter was destined to challenge him one day. Lily and James Potter had been easy enough to get past-using the Killing Curse on the infant had backfired and all but destroyed him, owning to the sacrifice of the blasted woman for the life of her child. Weakened, he'd been fortunate to escape the ruined cottage before the Ministry had arrived.
Voldemort sneered, reminded of the ensuing years of hiding out, residing mostly in the Forbidden Forest, reduced to drinking the blood of Unicorns to preserve his loathed half-life. The chance to end that too, had been stolen from him when the nosy brat succeeded in keeping the Sorcerer's Stone with its elixir of life from him-so many times the boy, a mere boy, had defeated him. It was past time for him to come out the victor-when next they met, only one of them would be walking away from the encounter, and Voldemort swore it would be him.
He looked down at his skeletal hand, trying to remember if it had ever looked normal-what was normal after all?
A sudden image came to him on his mind-a small boy, alone and crying on the steps of a cold Muggle orphanage. The dull, brainless Muggles who worked the dismal place thought the boy was crying over the fact that he had no family-but they hadn't known anything. The boy had been crying because the Muggle orphanage was hell for him-because he had always known, somehow, that he was different, a wizard, and he'd thought the Wizarding world was now forever lost to him, and he knew what he would be missing out on.
Voldemort's thin lips twisted. Had he ever been that young? Had he always been so evil? So bent on achieving prominence, power, and vengeance? So filled with ambitiousness and aspiration?
He thought back on his dark childhood. It wasn't difficult to remember, even with everything that had happened since. His father had abandoned him and his Mother when he'd been an unborn child-he'd been a freak to the man, and his family, and been almost immediately outcast. His entire life had been shattered when the bastard had gone-his son left behind like a bag of unwanted rubbish, unneeded, unwanted, and not worth mentioning.
Voldemort recalled the night long ago when he'd at last taken his vengeance on the Riddle family with an unpleasant smile.
Really, his father should be thanked-all the world should thank the man-for he had helped make Tom Marvolo Riddle-the boy who would become Lord Voldemort. He had ensured that young Tom would grow up with ambitions, intent on becoming the greatest, most powerful wizard that ever lived- intent on making sure that the world never forgot his name-or his face-ever again.
Voldemort thought again on young Potter-he knew about the powers he had acquired over the summer. The Order Of The Phoenix had finally decided to step in and take a hand in stopping him, the olden fools. They were powerful, indeed-and clever, channeling their powers through the seemingly invincible Harry.
Harry Potter was not invincible; however-and if the boy did not use the powers wisely which, Voldemort was counting on-he could very well destroy himself.
He looked again at the ghostly moon. The time was drawing near, so very near…and he was not a patient man.
Voldemort smiled thinly and summoned his most loyal Death Eater-Lucius Malfoy's son was about to fulfill his own destiny…
Christmas Day, Hogwarts
Harry had gotten bombarded by gifts from Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Hagrid, and of course, Mrs. Weasley, that morning; he even came across one from Snuffles-he didn't think he'd ever seen so many gifts with his name on them before.
He plucked at the soft nubby green fabric of his new sweater as he watched Ron and Hermione playing exploding snap nearby. Hermione still jumped and screeched at every noise, and this seemed to be really amusing to Ron.
Ginny walked into the common room bearing an armload of stuff from the kitchens, and she grinned at him as she dumped the lot on a table.
"Thank God, I was bloody starving," Ron exclaimed and stood up, stretching.
"You looked like it at breakfast," Ginny agreed, reminding him of the massive amount of food he'd eaten.
"I'm still growing," Ron said defensively, walking over to paw through the food.
Harry smiled at Ginny as she handed him a plump looking orange. "You didn't have to rush off just because I said I was getting hungry." He took her hand pulled her down to sit next to him before the fire.
Ginny pushed her hair over her shoulder, and nervously took the piece of fruit back-she began to peel it, her chin tucked into her chest. "I wanted to-besides, there's still an hour and half 'till lunch. Ron would never have survived."
He felt a grin coming on as he watched her-she hadn't questioned him about the summer since that night they'd fallen asleep before the fire. He'd been waiting for he to say something about the fact that he hadn't been wearing his glasses, but she hadn't said a word. She'd just talked with him, took long walks with him, studied with him-they'd gone to Hogsmeade and spent the day together alone … it had made things a hundred times easier-for him, at least. She'd seemed to know he needed her trust, and her understanding, and she'd given it to him willingly, unfailingly. In turn he was far more relaxed-but he felt like a complete heel because he couldn't say anything about it…
Ginny looked up, her brown eyes velvety soft. "I ran into Dobby."
Harry blinked. Dobby? "Oh…how is he?" Harry realized he hadn't been down to see Dobby in weeks.
She bit her lip and pulled a small package out of her pocket. "He wanted me to give you this-he said he was sorry he didn't get to leave it for you this morning."
Frowning, Harry took the brown paper wrapped package, and pulled the twine knot holding it closed. It felt too heavy to be socks…
"What is that?" Ginny leaned forward, a curious frown on her face.
Harry pulled the paper away and curled his hand around the small oddly warm metal object. "I'm not sure."
Of course he knew what it was-but only because of the Mark on his hand. It was too bad it wouldn't give him such instant knowledge on his homework-he figured the Order would probably frown on their champion cheating. He looked at the small gold triangle with its ornately carved eye in the center curiously.
Hermione looked over his shoulder and gasped. "That's an Eye Of Simtar- they're really rare. See the red stone in the center of the eye? It's a piece of Charm Stone-it's supposed to bring good fortune to its possessor. The symbol of the eye and the shape of the triangle are supposed the concentrate the Charm Stone's properties and make them more powerful." She looked at Harry searchingly, and he could see the wheels turning in her head at an insane speed.
"Why would Dobby give you this? I wonder where he could have gotten it-"
"How did you know what that was? Oh, don't tell me, you've 'read' about them." Ron mocked playfully.
"I have," said Hermione defensively, only momentarily diverted.
"What haven't you read about?" The boy mumbled, earning himself a pinch.
Harry quickly put the charm into his pocket. Obviously Dobby knew what was up, and was trying to help. He felt bad for forgetting about the little house elf, and made a mental note to dig him out a pair of socks in thanks.
"I guess he knows something we don't," said Hermione peevishly. She'd been making no secret that she thought Harry was wrong about not giving them any information about the past summer, and had done her best to get anything at all out of him. She'd been careful not to bug him in the beginning, giving him time, but had gotten sneaky about it when he wasn't willingly forthcoming with anything, and then it had turned into an all out mission by Halloween.
Feeling guilty but unable to confide in his friends for their safety, Harry sighed and looked at Hermione pleadingly. "No offense, but you are on a need to know basis."
"So there is something coming up! I knew it! That's what the charm is for- don't you think you should tell us what it is, so we can come up with a plan?"
He stared at her steadily until she blushed and looked away, and he hoped that would be the end of it-the less questions asked the better-but he knew it was too much to hope that they forgot they ever saw the charm.
"Why would Dobby be giving you that?" Hermione pressed suspiciously a moment later. It was obvious she wasn't giving up.
He groaned inwardly, but shrugged in an I-don't-know sort of way.
Hermione narrowed her eyes and set her jaw but didn't press him further-mostly because Ron was whispering in her ear.
Harry looked over to see Ginny watching him closely, and then she shook her head slightly. "Here." She held out a perfectly peeled orange.
"Thanks." Harry took it, his fingers brushing against hers.
"You're welcome," she said softly, and turned her head to stare thoughtfully into the fire.
Harry sighed and munched on the orange sections absently. He was hoping that if he did survive the last confrontation with Voldemort, he'd have friends to return to.
Draco Malfoy stood with his father in the middle of the forbidden forest.
He looked at his surroundings, feeling shaky and panicky-not at all how he should feel upon becoming a Death Eater.
His father looked down on him with a cold, proud smile, and Draco straightened his back a bit-no, he couldn't show his doubt to his father- and God forbid he show it in front of Lord Voldemort.
The darkness in the clearing was almost complete-only a brave ray or two of the moonlight shone into the area, and Draco could barely see anything.
He had to try very hard not to jump when Voldemort suddenly apparated in front of him, his glowing violet eyes burning in the near darkness.
A screech owl made its presence known nearby, and the wailing sound erupting from it's beak sent shudders down Draco's spine.
"Ah, Lucius…I see you've brought me your heir."
'Brought me your heir?' Draco did not like the sound of this…
"Yes my lord-I hope that he is…up to your standards. He has been a more than decent pupil-I think that he shall fit your needs quite nicely."
'Needs?' Draco stared into the violet eyes before dropping his in a gesture of respect. 'What needs?'
"How old are you, boy?"
The grating, harsh voice directed at him made his skin crawl. "Seventeen my lord."
'Ah…good, good."
Draco suddenly began to wish he were anywhere but there. He'd thought he was there to become a Death Eater…
"Show me your arm, boy."
Swallowing hard Draco rolled back the sleeve of his robe and fisted his hand to keep it from trembling. He thrust his forearm out to the dark lord and gritted his teeth.
The icy burn of a skeletal finger under his chin brought his eyes to meet Voldemort's.
"What I am about to give you, Son of Malfoy, is a great honor-there is a great war brewing, and soon, very soon it shall begin-a war between the dark and the light itself…"
Draco felt his eyes widen, and he wanted to snatch his arm out of the thing's grasp and disappear, but Voldemort's next words made him freeze.
"You have been chosen to be my champion, Malfoy…you will wield my power, or, at least a small part of it…you will be my Avatar, until I am strong enough to battle Potter again. You see, he has been chosen to become the champion of the light-but the powers he has attained, are too intense, too consuming for him to contain for very long. With every curse sent his way, every use of the power he controls, he grows darker, more indifferent; he becomes blind to his own mortality."
Draco was still looping around the word Avatar. What the hell was the man talking about?
"You-you can move freely about the school grounds, undetected…and in the meantime, you can use my powers to attack him at any time, any chance you may get…his powers will soon become so unstable, that when he finally faces me, he'll destroy himself using them against me. Yes, he'll die-or he'll turn, he'll become a dark wizard, and join us, and together we'll rid the world of all but the loyal pureblooded!" The violet eyes burned feverishly in the blackness.
Draco was more scared at that moment than he'd ever been in his entire life- and he'd also decided that Voldemort was a raging nutter.
"Are you ready to fulfill your destiny, ready to serve your master?"
No. Hell no. Did he really want to become this monsters lap dog? Draco bit his tongue and nodded tautly. He was offering him power. Power. It was what he'd always wanted-wasn't it? And to be able to torture Potter…well that right there was well worth a lifelong commitment to Voldemort.
He watched as Voldemort withdrew his wand-the twin to which Harry Potter owned…
Voldemort touched the wand to the palm of his claw like hand, and shouted, "Apello Auctorita!"
The figure seemed to slouch slightly, as a green burst of light moved from his skin into his wand, moving along it until it consumed it entirely.
Draco's hand trembled as Voldemort took it in his, and then pressed the tip of his wand into his bared forearm. The skin there prickled and the muscles tensed as if in warning-
"Arcesso Auctorita Bivium!"
The bright green blast of pain and power was so unexpected and blinding that Draco fell forward, oblivious to anything and everything around him.
Lucius caught his son in his arms and lowered the boy to the ground.
"He will recover," Voldemort said tiredly. "When he does, take him home, allow him to rest before he returns to Hogwarts-he'll know what is expected of him."
"Yes my lord,"
"I must seek rest myself, now. Later I will summon the others-and Severus. It's time he decided who he is most loyal to…"
Harry jerked awake in his bed at Hogwarts, the scar on his forehead burning as if the wound had just been placed there.
Disoriented, he focused his eyes down onto the back of his hand-the Mark was glowing neon bright, pulsating-he got out of his bed, and went to the window, pulling it open to gaze over the lawns to the edge of the forbidden forest.
Was it time already?
No… but…something had disturbed the magical wards placed over Hogwarts- something from the forest…the light magic had been barely nudged by something dark, and twisted, and the mark on his hand had reacted violently- and so had his scar.
Voldemort was again near-and he'd obviously brought something bad with him.
Harry pushed his hair out of his eyes and closed the window.
Yes, something very, very bad.
TBC
(A/N: Okay, if you're wondering-why would Voldie have an Avatar if he's rising to full power-well, if Voldemort can't get onto school grounds, and he wants to take Harry out by making him use his powers so much they destroy him, why not make the son of your most trusted Death Eater the embodiment of your power so as to catch him off guard and force him to use his powers as often as possible before the 'big' battle? It's confusing, yes? ^-^ Also, the Eye Of Simtar is totally made up, don't ask me where it came from-but it's going to play a big part at the end of the story. I hope it makes some kind of sense and is at the very least, somewhat entertaining.
Next, we'll see some of Harry's power's-and what Draco is now capable of. It should be interesting! ^-^ Below are two definition's of Avatar-hope they're helpful. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to let me know what you think! Good, Bad, Ugly, whatever!)
Avatar: An embodiment, as of a quality or concept; an archetype: the very avatar of cunning. "The incarnation of evil"
A temporary manifestation or aspect of a continuing entity: occultism in its present avatar. "The very avatar of cunning"
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling, The W.B., Etc. are the proud owners of all this stuff-I own nothing! (Though I do admit to being insanely jealous-J.K. sweetie, can I get the name of your Muse? Heh-heh.)
Summary: Some of this Chapter is from Vol-:: sorry, Ron; don't get your Chudley Cannon's boxers in a bunch:: I mean, you–know-who's- POV. ^-^ Draco gets a pair-you'll see what I mean…
(A/N: My first step in my fiendish master plan! Muwahhahahaa! ::blinks:: Right. Anyway let me know if like where it's going or not. Your opinion counts! ^-^ I know there are going to be questions, so I'm going to have a few explanations at the bottom-if they don't answer them, e-mail or leave them in your review, and I'll try really hard to answer them.)
3. The Avatar Of The Darkness
The moon hung full and bright over the Forbidden forest-at the very heart of the forest, though, it's light did not reach-in this part of the forest; nature itself seemed subdued, as though life couldn't thrive here.
A wraithlike creature in a hooded black robe resided there, and it studied the moon only briefly before looking away-the creature's unnaturalness was at direct odds with the soft tranquility of the glowing orb.
Lord Voldemort eyed the pitch-blackness of the silent forest around him and was pleased-for he was a creature of the night, of the darkness, and his surroundings suited him.
The day was coming, soon, when he would be at his most powerful-his powers would rival that of the great Merlin himself-only they would not be wasted on the side of good.
Voldemort reflected on his destiny-he'd always known that he would do great things-ridding the world of annoying, useless, powerless Muggles would be one of the firsts on his agenda-right after dispatching the irritating boy child Harry Potter, once and for all.
This was proving increasingly difficult.
He'd known Harry Potter was destined to challenge him one day. Lily and James Potter had been easy enough to get past-using the Killing Curse on the infant had backfired and all but destroyed him, owning to the sacrifice of the blasted woman for the life of her child. Weakened, he'd been fortunate to escape the ruined cottage before the Ministry had arrived.
Voldemort sneered, reminded of the ensuing years of hiding out, residing mostly in the Forbidden Forest, reduced to drinking the blood of Unicorns to preserve his loathed half-life. The chance to end that too, had been stolen from him when the nosy brat succeeded in keeping the Sorcerer's Stone with its elixir of life from him-so many times the boy, a mere boy, had defeated him. It was past time for him to come out the victor-when next they met, only one of them would be walking away from the encounter, and Voldemort swore it would be him.
He looked down at his skeletal hand, trying to remember if it had ever looked normal-what was normal after all?
A sudden image came to him on his mind-a small boy, alone and crying on the steps of a cold Muggle orphanage. The dull, brainless Muggles who worked the dismal place thought the boy was crying over the fact that he had no family-but they hadn't known anything. The boy had been crying because the Muggle orphanage was hell for him-because he had always known, somehow, that he was different, a wizard, and he'd thought the Wizarding world was now forever lost to him, and he knew what he would be missing out on.
Voldemort's thin lips twisted. Had he ever been that young? Had he always been so evil? So bent on achieving prominence, power, and vengeance? So filled with ambitiousness and aspiration?
He thought back on his dark childhood. It wasn't difficult to remember, even with everything that had happened since. His father had abandoned him and his Mother when he'd been an unborn child-he'd been a freak to the man, and his family, and been almost immediately outcast. His entire life had been shattered when the bastard had gone-his son left behind like a bag of unwanted rubbish, unneeded, unwanted, and not worth mentioning.
Voldemort recalled the night long ago when he'd at last taken his vengeance on the Riddle family with an unpleasant smile.
Really, his father should be thanked-all the world should thank the man-for he had helped make Tom Marvolo Riddle-the boy who would become Lord Voldemort. He had ensured that young Tom would grow up with ambitions, intent on becoming the greatest, most powerful wizard that ever lived- intent on making sure that the world never forgot his name-or his face-ever again.
Voldemort thought again on young Potter-he knew about the powers he had acquired over the summer. The Order Of The Phoenix had finally decided to step in and take a hand in stopping him, the olden fools. They were powerful, indeed-and clever, channeling their powers through the seemingly invincible Harry.
Harry Potter was not invincible; however-and if the boy did not use the powers wisely which, Voldemort was counting on-he could very well destroy himself.
He looked again at the ghostly moon. The time was drawing near, so very near…and he was not a patient man.
Voldemort smiled thinly and summoned his most loyal Death Eater-Lucius Malfoy's son was about to fulfill his own destiny…
Christmas Day, Hogwarts
Harry had gotten bombarded by gifts from Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Hagrid, and of course, Mrs. Weasley, that morning; he even came across one from Snuffles-he didn't think he'd ever seen so many gifts with his name on them before.
He plucked at the soft nubby green fabric of his new sweater as he watched Ron and Hermione playing exploding snap nearby. Hermione still jumped and screeched at every noise, and this seemed to be really amusing to Ron.
Ginny walked into the common room bearing an armload of stuff from the kitchens, and she grinned at him as she dumped the lot on a table.
"Thank God, I was bloody starving," Ron exclaimed and stood up, stretching.
"You looked like it at breakfast," Ginny agreed, reminding him of the massive amount of food he'd eaten.
"I'm still growing," Ron said defensively, walking over to paw through the food.
Harry smiled at Ginny as she handed him a plump looking orange. "You didn't have to rush off just because I said I was getting hungry." He took her hand pulled her down to sit next to him before the fire.
Ginny pushed her hair over her shoulder, and nervously took the piece of fruit back-she began to peel it, her chin tucked into her chest. "I wanted to-besides, there's still an hour and half 'till lunch. Ron would never have survived."
He felt a grin coming on as he watched her-she hadn't questioned him about the summer since that night they'd fallen asleep before the fire. He'd been waiting for he to say something about the fact that he hadn't been wearing his glasses, but she hadn't said a word. She'd just talked with him, took long walks with him, studied with him-they'd gone to Hogsmeade and spent the day together alone … it had made things a hundred times easier-for him, at least. She'd seemed to know he needed her trust, and her understanding, and she'd given it to him willingly, unfailingly. In turn he was far more relaxed-but he felt like a complete heel because he couldn't say anything about it…
Ginny looked up, her brown eyes velvety soft. "I ran into Dobby."
Harry blinked. Dobby? "Oh…how is he?" Harry realized he hadn't been down to see Dobby in weeks.
She bit her lip and pulled a small package out of her pocket. "He wanted me to give you this-he said he was sorry he didn't get to leave it for you this morning."
Frowning, Harry took the brown paper wrapped package, and pulled the twine knot holding it closed. It felt too heavy to be socks…
"What is that?" Ginny leaned forward, a curious frown on her face.
Harry pulled the paper away and curled his hand around the small oddly warm metal object. "I'm not sure."
Of course he knew what it was-but only because of the Mark on his hand. It was too bad it wouldn't give him such instant knowledge on his homework-he figured the Order would probably frown on their champion cheating. He looked at the small gold triangle with its ornately carved eye in the center curiously.
Hermione looked over his shoulder and gasped. "That's an Eye Of Simtar- they're really rare. See the red stone in the center of the eye? It's a piece of Charm Stone-it's supposed to bring good fortune to its possessor. The symbol of the eye and the shape of the triangle are supposed the concentrate the Charm Stone's properties and make them more powerful." She looked at Harry searchingly, and he could see the wheels turning in her head at an insane speed.
"Why would Dobby give you this? I wonder where he could have gotten it-"
"How did you know what that was? Oh, don't tell me, you've 'read' about them." Ron mocked playfully.
"I have," said Hermione defensively, only momentarily diverted.
"What haven't you read about?" The boy mumbled, earning himself a pinch.
Harry quickly put the charm into his pocket. Obviously Dobby knew what was up, and was trying to help. He felt bad for forgetting about the little house elf, and made a mental note to dig him out a pair of socks in thanks.
"I guess he knows something we don't," said Hermione peevishly. She'd been making no secret that she thought Harry was wrong about not giving them any information about the past summer, and had done her best to get anything at all out of him. She'd been careful not to bug him in the beginning, giving him time, but had gotten sneaky about it when he wasn't willingly forthcoming with anything, and then it had turned into an all out mission by Halloween.
Feeling guilty but unable to confide in his friends for their safety, Harry sighed and looked at Hermione pleadingly. "No offense, but you are on a need to know basis."
"So there is something coming up! I knew it! That's what the charm is for- don't you think you should tell us what it is, so we can come up with a plan?"
He stared at her steadily until she blushed and looked away, and he hoped that would be the end of it-the less questions asked the better-but he knew it was too much to hope that they forgot they ever saw the charm.
"Why would Dobby be giving you that?" Hermione pressed suspiciously a moment later. It was obvious she wasn't giving up.
He groaned inwardly, but shrugged in an I-don't-know sort of way.
Hermione narrowed her eyes and set her jaw but didn't press him further-mostly because Ron was whispering in her ear.
Harry looked over to see Ginny watching him closely, and then she shook her head slightly. "Here." She held out a perfectly peeled orange.
"Thanks." Harry took it, his fingers brushing against hers.
"You're welcome," she said softly, and turned her head to stare thoughtfully into the fire.
Harry sighed and munched on the orange sections absently. He was hoping that if he did survive the last confrontation with Voldemort, he'd have friends to return to.
Draco Malfoy stood with his father in the middle of the forbidden forest.
He looked at his surroundings, feeling shaky and panicky-not at all how he should feel upon becoming a Death Eater.
His father looked down on him with a cold, proud smile, and Draco straightened his back a bit-no, he couldn't show his doubt to his father- and God forbid he show it in front of Lord Voldemort.
The darkness in the clearing was almost complete-only a brave ray or two of the moonlight shone into the area, and Draco could barely see anything.
He had to try very hard not to jump when Voldemort suddenly apparated in front of him, his glowing violet eyes burning in the near darkness.
A screech owl made its presence known nearby, and the wailing sound erupting from it's beak sent shudders down Draco's spine.
"Ah, Lucius…I see you've brought me your heir."
'Brought me your heir?' Draco did not like the sound of this…
"Yes my lord-I hope that he is…up to your standards. He has been a more than decent pupil-I think that he shall fit your needs quite nicely."
'Needs?' Draco stared into the violet eyes before dropping his in a gesture of respect. 'What needs?'
"How old are you, boy?"
The grating, harsh voice directed at him made his skin crawl. "Seventeen my lord."
'Ah…good, good."
Draco suddenly began to wish he were anywhere but there. He'd thought he was there to become a Death Eater…
"Show me your arm, boy."
Swallowing hard Draco rolled back the sleeve of his robe and fisted his hand to keep it from trembling. He thrust his forearm out to the dark lord and gritted his teeth.
The icy burn of a skeletal finger under his chin brought his eyes to meet Voldemort's.
"What I am about to give you, Son of Malfoy, is a great honor-there is a great war brewing, and soon, very soon it shall begin-a war between the dark and the light itself…"
Draco felt his eyes widen, and he wanted to snatch his arm out of the thing's grasp and disappear, but Voldemort's next words made him freeze.
"You have been chosen to be my champion, Malfoy…you will wield my power, or, at least a small part of it…you will be my Avatar, until I am strong enough to battle Potter again. You see, he has been chosen to become the champion of the light-but the powers he has attained, are too intense, too consuming for him to contain for very long. With every curse sent his way, every use of the power he controls, he grows darker, more indifferent; he becomes blind to his own mortality."
Draco was still looping around the word Avatar. What the hell was the man talking about?
"You-you can move freely about the school grounds, undetected…and in the meantime, you can use my powers to attack him at any time, any chance you may get…his powers will soon become so unstable, that when he finally faces me, he'll destroy himself using them against me. Yes, he'll die-or he'll turn, he'll become a dark wizard, and join us, and together we'll rid the world of all but the loyal pureblooded!" The violet eyes burned feverishly in the blackness.
Draco was more scared at that moment than he'd ever been in his entire life- and he'd also decided that Voldemort was a raging nutter.
"Are you ready to fulfill your destiny, ready to serve your master?"
No. Hell no. Did he really want to become this monsters lap dog? Draco bit his tongue and nodded tautly. He was offering him power. Power. It was what he'd always wanted-wasn't it? And to be able to torture Potter…well that right there was well worth a lifelong commitment to Voldemort.
He watched as Voldemort withdrew his wand-the twin to which Harry Potter owned…
Voldemort touched the wand to the palm of his claw like hand, and shouted, "Apello Auctorita!"
The figure seemed to slouch slightly, as a green burst of light moved from his skin into his wand, moving along it until it consumed it entirely.
Draco's hand trembled as Voldemort took it in his, and then pressed the tip of his wand into his bared forearm. The skin there prickled and the muscles tensed as if in warning-
"Arcesso Auctorita Bivium!"
The bright green blast of pain and power was so unexpected and blinding that Draco fell forward, oblivious to anything and everything around him.
Lucius caught his son in his arms and lowered the boy to the ground.
"He will recover," Voldemort said tiredly. "When he does, take him home, allow him to rest before he returns to Hogwarts-he'll know what is expected of him."
"Yes my lord,"
"I must seek rest myself, now. Later I will summon the others-and Severus. It's time he decided who he is most loyal to…"
Harry jerked awake in his bed at Hogwarts, the scar on his forehead burning as if the wound had just been placed there.
Disoriented, he focused his eyes down onto the back of his hand-the Mark was glowing neon bright, pulsating-he got out of his bed, and went to the window, pulling it open to gaze over the lawns to the edge of the forbidden forest.
Was it time already?
No… but…something had disturbed the magical wards placed over Hogwarts- something from the forest…the light magic had been barely nudged by something dark, and twisted, and the mark on his hand had reacted violently- and so had his scar.
Voldemort was again near-and he'd obviously brought something bad with him.
Harry pushed his hair out of his eyes and closed the window.
Yes, something very, very bad.
TBC
(A/N: Okay, if you're wondering-why would Voldie have an Avatar if he's rising to full power-well, if Voldemort can't get onto school grounds, and he wants to take Harry out by making him use his powers so much they destroy him, why not make the son of your most trusted Death Eater the embodiment of your power so as to catch him off guard and force him to use his powers as often as possible before the 'big' battle? It's confusing, yes? ^-^ Also, the Eye Of Simtar is totally made up, don't ask me where it came from-but it's going to play a big part at the end of the story. I hope it makes some kind of sense and is at the very least, somewhat entertaining.
Next, we'll see some of Harry's power's-and what Draco is now capable of. It should be interesting! ^-^ Below are two definition's of Avatar-hope they're helpful. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to let me know what you think! Good, Bad, Ugly, whatever!)
Avatar: An embodiment, as of a quality or concept; an archetype: the very avatar of cunning. "The incarnation of evil"
A temporary manifestation or aspect of a continuing entity: occultism in its present avatar. "The very avatar of cunning"