Edit: Hi guys. So, after around 3 reviews of the current 6 reviews on my book are about me copying Zattera-02. YES, I am not denying that I am essentially ripping it off. I am toying in his/her world. BUT. If you read the damn description of my story you will have noticed I said, 'Derivative' for people who have not studied Calculus or have not heard the word derivative before. It essentially means I derived this story from the original Paid in Blood. Its literally called edition for Heaven's sake. Anyways, to get this out of the way. I DO NOT OWN ANY, and I mean, ANY rights to the story. Maybe except for a couple of the spells and stuff. But I dun really care about it anyways.
Prologue
The Dark Lord Peverell stood 10 meters from the edge of the cliff. But he wasn't actually standing on land. He was standing in the air. A constant low-powered levitation charm was in place as the Dark Lord strode towards the hill, reliving the best moments of his life with a certain blonde hair emerald-eyed beauty. At the healthy age of 350, he was a man of remarkable stature. Despite his age, he looked like a middle-aged man in his early 30s. This was, of course, the power that was granted to him through the deathly hallows, an incredibly long lifetime. Not immortality, just an extremely long life. In youth, he considered it a blessing, he would be able to see his great-great grandchildren after all. However, the older he got the more he wished longing for death. He was also somehow stripped of the name Potter 310 years ago. His greatest regret was not letting them die a slower death. That did not matter now. He was going to have his revenge. All in due time… All in due time.
"DOBBY!" Peverell called.
An elf, not a normal one, he had been blessed with his master's magic. It had allowed him to serve him until his master's time came. The elf knew so. He had done his utmost best to serve his master.
"Yes, master?" The elf grinned.
"We are doing it, draw the ritual." Peverell ordered. The elf's eye widened. He was meeting his mistress again! They were finally doing it.
"Yes, of course master." The elf bowed and pooped back out.
Peverell closed his eyes once again. The blonde that he loved, the person he craved above all. He would be reunited with her soon. His own emerald eyes opened but suddenly turned pale white as his cornea, and his aura flared, sending a shockwave that caused a tsunami to occur on the coast of France. Not that he cared. Those bastards could die for all he cared and he would not bat an eye. He lived out his grief of his wife, who had been murdered 311 years ago, and spent the rest of his incredibly long life, training and preparing for the eventual.
2 Days Later,
Peverell's ragged voice rang out, "BRING THEM IN." He had not spoken for the entire 2 days as was his habit when planning something big. At once, his loyal friend and servant vanished out of the room. Through it, ten people came, taking their positions in pre-determined positions around the rune's cluster. They crossed their arms behind their back and waited their master's commands. Those ten were under the imperious curse, obviously. There was absolutely no reason that Peverell would be stupid enough to allow a single error in this ritual. He had been preparing this for over 2 decades and he would not allow any flaws. The dark lord picked his wand and levitated himself to the center of the rune cluster.
"Come, my loyal friend. It is time." the dark lord called his servant, who popped in front of his master, kneeling. He handed his second wand, Yew and Basilisk Heartstring combined with Basilisk Venom and Phoenix Tears, to the servant he had come to admire as his friend.
"I shall be forever indebted to you with this gift, master," the elf bowed respectfully. The Dark Lord waved it off, "Nonsense, my friend. Your debt is paid in full should you come to me during this ritual." The elf's ears perked up at this. He had missed his mistress even though Peverell could summon her. He chose not to, respecting that she wanted her peace after the last summon, that took place as he slowly killed the last perpetrator of her murder via the Entrails Expulsion curse.
"Cut out your eye and place it on the cavity before you. Then, slit your own throat and bleed into said cavity." The Dark Lord ordered. After the blood flowed into the center of the cluster and surrounded both the dark lord and the dark elf, both beginning to chant in a long-forgotten language. The runes started to shine in red and the blood began to be absorbed by them, powering the cluster. When the dark lord and his
servant finished chanting, the runes were incandescent in the floor, giving the entire room a blood red glow, looking eerily in the midst of the corpses and black magic.
"See you on the other side, Dobby," the dark lard softly said. "I shall be there, my lord" came the reply. The dark lord let out a laugh. "Dobby. If anyone had earned the right to speak my name, it is you my friend. Call me Harry if I see you on the other side." The dark lord stated emotionally, raising the elder wand.
"Of course, Harry," the elf replied, raising the newly gifted wand.
And with that both intoned, "AVADA KEDAVRA." The green light shot out from both wands, hitting them in the chest. However, they did not die. They felt a great pain taking hold of them, as if they were being ripped apart and found themselves watching their own bodies wither and become dust, quickly vanished by the winds that lifted in the room. They, or their souls, as the dark lord theorized, were in excruciating pain, as they too were ripped from existence, being absorbed by the blood powered rune cluster. The last thing the dark lord saw before everything became void was a certain green-eyed blonde beauty.