A/N: Well, the wait is over, and here is the forth chapter! Thank you to all who reviewed and I hope you like this!
November arrived with strange weather. After a frightfully cold first day, the cold weather had continued for a week until the temperature reached seventy and each and every classroom was stifling. Harry was no longer receiving any horrible dreams, and neither was Hermione; for which he was glad. Everything seemed normal for once; calm and peaceful as if some higher power had decided to give them a break. Nothing may have been disturbing them, but Hermione was hell bent on finding out what their dreams meant, and there was no stopping her.
"Hermione give it up! You are not going to find anything in this library about what is going on. We've already looked." Said Harry, trying to coax her into coming out.
"I want to figure this out Harry, please. You of all people should know what I'm trying to accomplish." Said Hermione, not even looking at him as she talked.
Harry sighed, defeated, and decided to help her look. It was the least he could do. As they collected books, neither of them spoke, that was until Hermione got a rather puzzled look upon her face. She was standing in front of a bookshelf, looking at the many large tomes that lined the walls, her brow furrowed in confusion. Harry tried to see what she was so confused about, but her didn't understand it.
"Um, Herm, what 'cha looking at?" he asked.
"There's a book missing. I thought it would be the answer to this, but it's not here." She said.
"So, books are taken out all the time. That's the purpose of the library." Said Harry.
"I know it's just that that book serves no purpose what so ever. No one would want it. I mean there is no reason why any student would want that book." She said, looking at the dusty bookshelf and the aging tomes that were leaning against each other.
Harry studied the bookshelf for a moment, and decided to ask the title of the book that had gotten Hermione into such a huff. "What was the name of the book?"
"That's just it, I had it in my head and now it's gone. I know what it is, and that it's supposed to be located here, but now that title is just; gone." She said, her eyes glassy.
Harry looked at her for a moment, studying her, trying to figure out exactly what was going through her head, but everything escaped him. It was then that a window near them blew open and a cold wind ruffled their hair and the papers on Madame Pince's desk. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and every bone in his body became as cold as ice. Next to him, Hermione was experiencing the same thing, and their eyes locked as a snowflake fluttered through the open window.
*
The cold wind blew across the country, all the way to a small village by the name of Little Hangleton. As the wind blew, the villagers stopped what they were doing and gathered on the streets. Shop keepers abandoned their registers, teachers and students abandoned their studies, even the animals felt the need to gather outside, and soon the town square was filled with people as they looked into the direction of the Riddle House.
Snow whipped with the wind and the tops of houses and buildings were becoming covered in a blanket of white, but each and every person remained in the square, even though their faces were becoming red from the cold. They stood transfixed on the mansion, waiting for the something that had been calling to them. As if their prayers had been answered, or more correctly their nightmares, a howling sound broke out. One might mistake it as the wind, if he did not want to succumb to his fear. The howling was most defiantly a laugh, one of pure evil, hatred and malice. It was the laugh of a person who was not truly a person at all, and every villager felt a cold rush up their spine, as if ice had been dropped down their shirts.
The laughter continued on, each villager becoming fearful of what might happen next. As soon as it had come, the small snowstorm stopped and all was quiet. An eerie silence filled the air and no one made a single move, afraid that whatever had been laughing would chastise them. Then, from above the Riddle House, black storm clouds formed, as black as ravens feathers. The clouds circled out, making a spiral above the ghostly mansion and the area of cloud that was closest to the mansion became a bright green. Thunder sounded, and bright green lightning flashed in the sky, and made the frightened villagers jump. It was at the moment that a bolt of lightning, tinged with red, fell down from the sky and struck the mayor of Little Hangleton, a black scorch mark being the only thing left.
This started the slaughter that to this day is looked back on with fear and white faces. This started the Little Hangleton Massacre. The entire village was slaughtered ruthlessly; men, women and children all fell to this so-called 'freak' lightning. People were struck down as they ran for their lives, their horrific screams echoing throughout the hills of the countryside. As the last person was struck down, his final scream fading into the wind, his final breath of life fading into the cold. It ended.
The streets were stained with ash and blood, never to come clean again. For this had been the blood of the innocent. The blood of people who didn't deserve to die this cruelly and at this time. These people had done nothing to deserve this fate, and this had not been their destiny. But destiny has a way of throwing you a curve ball, and this had defiantly been an unexpected play. A light snowfall now fell, covering the ground and the decaying bodies. It snowed so much that night that every body was covered in a thick blanket and you wouldn't notice that anything had really happened. The death of the villagers was realised when a couple on holiday came into the village for some food and found the frozen people. The couple had been so traumatized that they were admitted to a mental hospital to get over their findings, yet they can still see their faces when they close their eyes.
The clouds had disappeared from above the Riddle House, and everything was silent as the snow fell. Yet, if one were to look into the top window, the one overlooking the town, he would see a cold man looking out at the destruction. This man, however, could hardly be categorized as a man at all. He had a pale complexion and red, snake-like eyes. His nose and mouth were nothing but slits in his face, yet his mouth was contorted into some sort of horrible smile. His arms were behind his back and he chuckled to himself at the scene before him. He walked away from the window, his black robes billowing behind him. He walked out of the room and down the dark and desolate hall to another room that overlooked that back gardens. A roaring fire was in the hearth and he sat down in an old, weather-beaten high-backed chair. One of the queerest things about the room was the large snake that was curled on the rug at the mans feat. The snake raised its great head, looking at the man with its large black eyes. The man, who seemed not afraid of the creature, stroked its scaly head with a large, boney hand.
"All in good time my pet. All in good time." He said, his voice hissing out each syllable.
The fire flickered, sending shadows out across the room, and only the snap of the log and the gentle swish of the great snake, Nagini's, tail was heard. Un-noticed to the man, the large gilded mirror that hung on the wall opposite him held a figure in the glass, a beautiful woman by the name of Morgan. She was getting very close to what she desired, she could feel it.
"Yes my Lord, all in good time." She whispered, her voice silky and deadly. "Time is all that is needed to bring upon the beginning of the end."
The hissing wind outside was the only other sound in the village of Little Hangleton. All life had ceased and the village was now a wasteland, devoid of any life what so ever. Although everything was peaceful in this village, two hundred miles away, pain and horrible pictures filled the mind of two Hogwarts students.
A/N: I know that this was incredibly short, but I'm building the story. I hoped you liked this anyway though.
Harry and Hermione's Daughter- thanx!
Lin- I will, and thanx!
shdurrani- thanx!
BabyJ5- thanx!
No name- thanx!
Fanficaholic1377- thanx!
Hermione Rae- thanx!
Merlin- I know, I know, I'm very slow, as you can tell.
cyberfrogX- thanx!
Dana Dancer- thanx!
November arrived with strange weather. After a frightfully cold first day, the cold weather had continued for a week until the temperature reached seventy and each and every classroom was stifling. Harry was no longer receiving any horrible dreams, and neither was Hermione; for which he was glad. Everything seemed normal for once; calm and peaceful as if some higher power had decided to give them a break. Nothing may have been disturbing them, but Hermione was hell bent on finding out what their dreams meant, and there was no stopping her.
"Hermione give it up! You are not going to find anything in this library about what is going on. We've already looked." Said Harry, trying to coax her into coming out.
"I want to figure this out Harry, please. You of all people should know what I'm trying to accomplish." Said Hermione, not even looking at him as she talked.
Harry sighed, defeated, and decided to help her look. It was the least he could do. As they collected books, neither of them spoke, that was until Hermione got a rather puzzled look upon her face. She was standing in front of a bookshelf, looking at the many large tomes that lined the walls, her brow furrowed in confusion. Harry tried to see what she was so confused about, but her didn't understand it.
"Um, Herm, what 'cha looking at?" he asked.
"There's a book missing. I thought it would be the answer to this, but it's not here." She said.
"So, books are taken out all the time. That's the purpose of the library." Said Harry.
"I know it's just that that book serves no purpose what so ever. No one would want it. I mean there is no reason why any student would want that book." She said, looking at the dusty bookshelf and the aging tomes that were leaning against each other.
Harry studied the bookshelf for a moment, and decided to ask the title of the book that had gotten Hermione into such a huff. "What was the name of the book?"
"That's just it, I had it in my head and now it's gone. I know what it is, and that it's supposed to be located here, but now that title is just; gone." She said, her eyes glassy.
Harry looked at her for a moment, studying her, trying to figure out exactly what was going through her head, but everything escaped him. It was then that a window near them blew open and a cold wind ruffled their hair and the papers on Madame Pince's desk. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and every bone in his body became as cold as ice. Next to him, Hermione was experiencing the same thing, and their eyes locked as a snowflake fluttered through the open window.
*
The cold wind blew across the country, all the way to a small village by the name of Little Hangleton. As the wind blew, the villagers stopped what they were doing and gathered on the streets. Shop keepers abandoned their registers, teachers and students abandoned their studies, even the animals felt the need to gather outside, and soon the town square was filled with people as they looked into the direction of the Riddle House.
Snow whipped with the wind and the tops of houses and buildings were becoming covered in a blanket of white, but each and every person remained in the square, even though their faces were becoming red from the cold. They stood transfixed on the mansion, waiting for the something that had been calling to them. As if their prayers had been answered, or more correctly their nightmares, a howling sound broke out. One might mistake it as the wind, if he did not want to succumb to his fear. The howling was most defiantly a laugh, one of pure evil, hatred and malice. It was the laugh of a person who was not truly a person at all, and every villager felt a cold rush up their spine, as if ice had been dropped down their shirts.
The laughter continued on, each villager becoming fearful of what might happen next. As soon as it had come, the small snowstorm stopped and all was quiet. An eerie silence filled the air and no one made a single move, afraid that whatever had been laughing would chastise them. Then, from above the Riddle House, black storm clouds formed, as black as ravens feathers. The clouds circled out, making a spiral above the ghostly mansion and the area of cloud that was closest to the mansion became a bright green. Thunder sounded, and bright green lightning flashed in the sky, and made the frightened villagers jump. It was at the moment that a bolt of lightning, tinged with red, fell down from the sky and struck the mayor of Little Hangleton, a black scorch mark being the only thing left.
This started the slaughter that to this day is looked back on with fear and white faces. This started the Little Hangleton Massacre. The entire village was slaughtered ruthlessly; men, women and children all fell to this so-called 'freak' lightning. People were struck down as they ran for their lives, their horrific screams echoing throughout the hills of the countryside. As the last person was struck down, his final scream fading into the wind, his final breath of life fading into the cold. It ended.
The streets were stained with ash and blood, never to come clean again. For this had been the blood of the innocent. The blood of people who didn't deserve to die this cruelly and at this time. These people had done nothing to deserve this fate, and this had not been their destiny. But destiny has a way of throwing you a curve ball, and this had defiantly been an unexpected play. A light snowfall now fell, covering the ground and the decaying bodies. It snowed so much that night that every body was covered in a thick blanket and you wouldn't notice that anything had really happened. The death of the villagers was realised when a couple on holiday came into the village for some food and found the frozen people. The couple had been so traumatized that they were admitted to a mental hospital to get over their findings, yet they can still see their faces when they close their eyes.
The clouds had disappeared from above the Riddle House, and everything was silent as the snow fell. Yet, if one were to look into the top window, the one overlooking the town, he would see a cold man looking out at the destruction. This man, however, could hardly be categorized as a man at all. He had a pale complexion and red, snake-like eyes. His nose and mouth were nothing but slits in his face, yet his mouth was contorted into some sort of horrible smile. His arms were behind his back and he chuckled to himself at the scene before him. He walked away from the window, his black robes billowing behind him. He walked out of the room and down the dark and desolate hall to another room that overlooked that back gardens. A roaring fire was in the hearth and he sat down in an old, weather-beaten high-backed chair. One of the queerest things about the room was the large snake that was curled on the rug at the mans feat. The snake raised its great head, looking at the man with its large black eyes. The man, who seemed not afraid of the creature, stroked its scaly head with a large, boney hand.
"All in good time my pet. All in good time." He said, his voice hissing out each syllable.
The fire flickered, sending shadows out across the room, and only the snap of the log and the gentle swish of the great snake, Nagini's, tail was heard. Un-noticed to the man, the large gilded mirror that hung on the wall opposite him held a figure in the glass, a beautiful woman by the name of Morgan. She was getting very close to what she desired, she could feel it.
"Yes my Lord, all in good time." She whispered, her voice silky and deadly. "Time is all that is needed to bring upon the beginning of the end."
The hissing wind outside was the only other sound in the village of Little Hangleton. All life had ceased and the village was now a wasteland, devoid of any life what so ever. Although everything was peaceful in this village, two hundred miles away, pain and horrible pictures filled the mind of two Hogwarts students.
A/N: I know that this was incredibly short, but I'm building the story. I hoped you liked this anyway though.
Harry and Hermione's Daughter- thanx!
Lin- I will, and thanx!
shdurrani- thanx!
BabyJ5- thanx!
No name- thanx!
Fanficaholic1377- thanx!
Hermione Rae- thanx!
Merlin- I know, I know, I'm very slow, as you can tell.
cyberfrogX- thanx!
Dana Dancer- thanx!