Title: In Progress
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Trouble. That's what's wrong with everything nowadays. Trouble' trouble for Potter, for Weasley, Malfoy, Granger, and even Voldemort himself. And it all comes in the form of a precious... snake. PROLOGUE.
Archive: I'd be honoured, but first let me know.
Warnings: Possible slash, possible het, possible anything. Get squicked by little things? Leave.
Disclaimer on main BIO page.
This chapter is very short because I don't usually write prologues. The rest of my chapters will be between 1,000 and 3,000 words.
And YES the actual title of the story is "In Progress".
Prologue:
A small girl ran up and down the steps of an old desolate manor, singing loudly, hopping from stair to stair.
"Ring around the rosies,
Pocket full of posies,
Ashes
Ashes
We all fall down," she sang in an eerily melodious voice. She wore her hair in two French braids that ended at the nape of her neck leaving two small ponytails. She had dark blonde hair down to her shoulder blades and crested softly in long waves, but not curly.
"Ding (hop)
Dong (hop)
Bell! (hop)
Pussy's in the (hop)
well! (spin)
Who put her (hop)
in? (spin)
Little Johnny (hop)
Green! (spin)
Who pulled (dizzy...) her (no!)" A shrill scream came from the landing of the staircase as she lay there, tears flowing down her pristine face, leaving tiny tracts of salty water on her rosy cheeks. Her ankle was twisted under her and her arm was scratched up the side. A billowy cloud of smoke materialized in front of her, and a moment later, in it's place, was a tall man with serpentine features and a scowl ever present on his face.
"I thought I told you not to play around on the staircasssesss," he hissed at her sharply. The blonde child looked up with him with big innocent brown eyes. "Don't look at me like that, you brat." He sighed, waving a long wooden stick at her, and miraculously... the scraped and bloodied skin was now closed and healed; her bruises gone; and her ankle? It was no longer twisted. "Now go back to your bedroom and stay there." Dejectedly, she stood up with a pout.
"Goodnight Master," she sighed, rolling her eyes, popping into her animagus form and slithering up the stairs.
"Goodnight, Nagini," Lord Voldemort said coldly.
