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By Niki Hutchison

           

            Disclaimer:  Harry Potter and all the characters from the books written by the great and wonderful J.K. Rowling do not belong to me in any way at all what so ever.  Melissa Sparks and any other characters you don't recognize are from my own twisted imagination. 

Author's note:  I originally wrote this a while ago and posted it but it was lame and I decided to rewrite it.  The old one had no plot and was going nowhere.  I hope my character doesn't turn out to be a Mary-Sue but if it does how'll!  This story takes place during Harry's fifth year.  Enjoy and I love reviews even flames.  PPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEE!!!Review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 1:

Philomela Star

            "Yes my master!" said a very tall and intimidating black girl.  "The Potter boy will be yours this time, sir!  I just know it, the plan is flawless and it cannot fail."  Then the girl bent down and kissed a man in black with red snake like eyes's toes. 

            They were in a dark, dingy room that looked like it might be part of a castle. The room didn't look even close like any room in Hogwarts, this castle looked like it was evil and haunted, and there was a sense of foreboding around the place.  There were three people in a throne room: one was The Dark Lord himself, Voldemort, the other two were his humble servants Chilla and Wormtail, wormtail was a chubby man that had bald spot and resembled a rat and Chilla was the black girl that was talking earlier, she was very tall, scary, and undoubtedly evil.  

Then the Dark Lord spoke, "You are wrong Chilla, all plans have flaws, and there is always slim chance that they could fail!"

"S… s… s… sorry my Lord!  I jut thought th-" Chilla stammered.

"Exactly, you just "thought"!  DID I SAY YOU COULD THINK!" Voldemort screamed cutting her off. "Crucio!" 

Chilla fell onto the floor wriggling, screaming, and twitching.  After a few agonizing minutes Voldemort took off the painful curse.

"I didn't think so.  You're new and your cute so I will let it go just this once but believe me I won't be so lenient next time!  BRING ME THE PRISONER, NOW!!!" Voldemort told her.

"Yes, yes my lord you are so generous and kind, I will never do it again, oh no I won't don't worry, oh no I won't!" Chilla said nervously.

"NOW" Voldemort exclaimed getting angrier.

"y..y..Yes my lord right away, s..ss…sorry sir!" Chilla said hurriedly as she flew out of the room.

"It is so hard to find competent people these days, right Wormtail?" Voldemort said

"Me sir?" Wormtail looked up from polishing his new silver hand that was already gleaming.  "yyyes sir" wormtail said quickly.  "Oh yeah of course really hard."

"Wormtail you don't need to polish that hand it is made of adamatiem and is the strongest metal ever it can't rust and will always look like new.

Just then Chilla returned dragging a very beautiful woman with black hair and radiant blue eyes that sparkled.  

"Hello Philomela Star!  It has been so long since I have seen, but you look as ravishing as ever!" Voldemort said with fake sincerity.

The woman looked at him with a look full of disgust and hatred, it dripped from her chin.  "Let me go!  Stop trying to butter me up you ass hole!" she told him scowling.

"Me, never," Voldemort said with a hurt expression on his face that was undoubtedly phony.  " I would never "butter" anyone up," then he turned very serious "Join me Philly, We could be great together, remember how fun it was before.  Join me or die!"

"Never! I would get back with you if my life depended on it, I never went out with the dark lord I went out with a sweet guy named Tom Riddle and he is gone forever, I would rather die than join you!" She said looking up at him with malice.

"That can be arranged, I gave you a chance you would have been my queen but you through it in my face, you blew it, goodbye Philly we could have had a great life!" Voldemort screamed.  "Goodbye crucio!"

 

A flash of green light erupted from the end of his wand and Thousands of miles away a boy woke with his scar hurting.