Melody
By Trinity Tzen
tzenwheiien@hotmail.com
A/N: Sorry if this Prologue is a bit dull. Just establishing some general information. Promise next chapter will be more exciting. ^_______^V
Prologue
Ginny Weasley hummed to herself as she strummed the acoustic guitar that lay across her lap. Every minute or so she would pause, take a quill pen and scratch a few more chords on a piece of parchment. The sun was setting just below the hills causing the bright red hues in her hair to shine gloriously. The breeze was gentle, and caressed the thin pink chiffon dress to her lean body. Just on the porch of the Burrow, there was no wizard, much less a Muggle, as far as the eye could see. For once in years, all was quiet. Ginny sighed. Maybe it was due to the fact that the majority of the Weasley family has moved on in their lives; leaving the cozy house barren. They were growing up, proof with recent events, when Fred and George moved to a flat above Diagon Alley in early July. She visited them twice, but they were too busy getting their joke shop up and running to pay much attention to her. Her other brothers, minus Ron, had moved on long ago, only visiting sporadically throughout the year.
Ron Weasley, her elder by a year, was the only one she had left. Ginny was closest to Ron, easily because of they were both the youngest of all the Weasley's children. However, he was also a git and a prat most of the time. Ginny rolled her eyes, perhaps more like, all the time. When she was dating Dean Thomas toward the end of her 5th year, Ron would not cut the poor boy a break. Eventually, Dean had no choice but to back out of the relationship, and run for the hills when Ron got wind of him 'breaking poor little Ginny's heart' (which George thought was hilarious- for obvious reasons.) Ron was dear to her, but their relationship had begun to strain when he started to date a fellow friend, Hermione Granger. Even though the relationship was easily described as 'gag-worthy' at times, she was happy for them.
Ginny thought Hermione was absolutely beautiful, with her bright intelligent eyes, and curly auburn hair. She was easily the smartest witch attending Hogwarts, and Ginny secretly thought, perhaps in all of Wizardry history. Ginny would be shocked if Hermione didn't make Head Girl in the upcoming year, and Hermione's final year at Hogwarts.
And last, but definitely not least, the infamous Harry Potter. At the mere utterance of his name would put Ginny in a slight swoon a couple years ago, but not anymore. In the past year, they have become close, very close. Maybe it was because they both felt like the third wheel in Ron and Hermione's exclusive relationship, or that they both shared the same terrifying experience of Voldemort wreaking havoc with their minds. Whatever it was, they become the best of friends, and Ginny found out that she could tell Harry anything, and he would always listen attentively- and tell her she wasn't alone. Nothing romantic ever bloomed from their friendship, despite Ron's unyielding encouragement. They were just friends, and remain only such.
Ginny let her mind wander, as she gazed out at the endless meadow. Her parents were gone for the night, Order of the Phoenix business that she tried not to get herself involved in. Not that she didn't want to help; she would have been glad to- Ginny blanched, her parents were still preaching about how young she was, and that she shouldn't involve herself in 'adult' matters. Even though she was a part of the crucial battle at the Ministry of Magic two years ago, that finally revealed to the public that Voldemort was indeed still very much alive and very much in power.
Ginny shuddered, that night still haunted her dreams. The fear that had coursed through her body and the adrenaline that pumped through her veins. She was terrified, and even at the moment, she didn't know where she obtained the strength to battle all those Death Eaters. One in particular. Since her first horrid year at Hogwarts, Ginny a personal vendetta against Lucius Malfoy, who had slipped her Tom Riddle's Diary which ultimately unlocked the dreaded Chamber of Secrets. It was a wonder that no one was critically hurt from the events that had taken place.
Ginny would wake up screaming at nights still. She could still see Tom Riddle's handsome dark features lingering in the back of her mind. And when she was asleep, it was when she was the most vulnerable. His breath would be on her neck, causing her hair to stand on end. His silky voice haunting her, telling her, commanding her- she was not alone, and never would be. Ginny feared the day, the day that she would lose all resolve and collapse completely into his power. She only divulged her fears to Harry, knowing that he would understand. At first he laughed, joking with her that he would rather have her image of Voldemort, rather than the pale skeletal monster that plagued him. But, he was wrong. Tom Riddle was far more dangerous. He was charming, clever, and devilishly handsome. On some level, it didn't matter to her what he had become, to her- Tom Riddle was Tom Riddle. Not Voldemort. And she was scared witless.
Ginny bit her lip as a shiver ran down her spine. It was nearly dark, and she could see the stars starting to dot the sky. Tomorrow, Ron and Harry would return with Hermione to the Burrow. They had an impromptu visit; apparently Hermione's parents were concerned with her choice in a boyfriend, like all good and snoopy parents were. So, tonight she was alone, a night alone at the Burrow was rare indeed, and Ginny didn't know what to do with all the extra room and time. Usually she would go into her room, and work on new songs, writing lyrics as she went along. But, tonight, something was different. Not to sound overdramatic, but she felt something in the air. Something was wrong. Gathering her guitar and the scattered parchments, she headed back into the warm house.
***
Looking upwards, Draco Malfoy could see the endless night sky. The stars twinkling in the distance; seemingly to mock him as he let his head loll back and forth. His eyes refused to focus, and he had long forgotten the excruciating pain that racked through his body. Voldemort and his father, Lucius Malfoy, had been hexing and cursing him since twilight. They had to weaken his body, before the ritual began.
Surrounding him, was hell, every last Death Eater was present, standing silently to the side. Draco, himself, was chained to a crucifix that stood among them. Blood poured freely from his skull, from when he had bashed his head into the wooden plank praying to fall into blissful unconsciousness. Earlier that evening, the ritual had begun- an honor in the name of the Malfoys. Draco smirked. Nothing as trivial as becoming a Death Eater, which lately has become a dime-a-dozen occurrence, but something worth risking his life for: to become the greatest and most powerful wizard to have ever lived.
Then, I'll show Potter-
Before he finished his thought, darkness enveloped him. He was shocked back into reality when as he felt the ice cold water drip down his form, mingling with his blood, causing a pink hue puddle at his feet. His father stood there with an empty bucket in his hand, panting from the exertion of hexing his own son for the past couple hours.
***
Ignoring Draco's groan, Lucius turned and bowed slightly to the cloaked figure beside him. "I think that is enough, Lord." The creature nodded and reached out toward one of the other numerous cloaked figures, all which were down on their knees- seemingly in awe of the event occurring before them. The Death Eater that approached the creature pulled out within his cloaks a small black box. The creature laid one skeletal hand upon the box, fingering its smooth surface.
"You do know what this means, Lucius," the creature whispered harshly. Lucius nodded, opening the box. From within he pulled out a large ornate dagger and handed it over to the other man. "You will lose your son- and gain a god among men." In a swift motion, Voldemort yanked up his sleeve and slit his own wrist. Lucius and the Death Eaters watched in fascination as a black liquid started to ooze from the wound.
Slowly he approached Draco stopping only inches from his face. The boy pulled back slightly. Reaching out with his unharmed arm, Voldemort pulled Draco's face toward him. "You, Draco Malfoy. Do you know what is about to happen?" The boy shook his head, causing his blood soaked locks to fall down around his face. Voldemort grinned fiendishly. "Your father never told you?" Draco glanced over to where his father was standing. Voldemort followed his gaze. Lucius smiled with anticipation. "You see Draco," Voldemort continued. "I'm dying." The boy's eyes squinted in confusion. "Or more specifically, my body is dying. You, my dear boy, have been chosen to become my new vessel." Draco's eyes widened in horror.
Voldemort shoved his bloody wrist into Draco's mouth, making sure the boy swallowed every last drop. At first, Draco struggled against the invading flesh, thrashing against his bonds- but eventually he fell silent, letting his head fall back- his eyes vacantly staring into the heavens.
Voldemort fell to his knees, heaving deeply. "Lucius," he beckoned, placing the ornate dagger into the man's hand before turning back to Draco's limp form. "Drain him." Lucius stood, walking slowly to his son's body. Tearing open Draco's shirt, Lucius thrust the dagger into his son's heart- being careful to hear the thud of the dagger coming into contact with the wooden plank of the crucifix on the other side.
Voldemort smiled widely, showing his small white pointed teeth. "It is done." He collapsed, shocking the Death Eaters who had flocked to their master's side. Lucius was the only one that stood apart from them, staying rooted in his spot in front of his son. Lifting a finger, Lucius brushed the hair off of his son's brow.
"We'll see if you can meet my expectations now, Draco."
***End of Prologue***
By Trinity Tzen
tzenwheiien@hotmail.com
A/N: Sorry if this Prologue is a bit dull. Just establishing some general information. Promise next chapter will be more exciting. ^_______^V
Prologue
Ginny Weasley hummed to herself as she strummed the acoustic guitar that lay across her lap. Every minute or so she would pause, take a quill pen and scratch a few more chords on a piece of parchment. The sun was setting just below the hills causing the bright red hues in her hair to shine gloriously. The breeze was gentle, and caressed the thin pink chiffon dress to her lean body. Just on the porch of the Burrow, there was no wizard, much less a Muggle, as far as the eye could see. For once in years, all was quiet. Ginny sighed. Maybe it was due to the fact that the majority of the Weasley family has moved on in their lives; leaving the cozy house barren. They were growing up, proof with recent events, when Fred and George moved to a flat above Diagon Alley in early July. She visited them twice, but they were too busy getting their joke shop up and running to pay much attention to her. Her other brothers, minus Ron, had moved on long ago, only visiting sporadically throughout the year.
Ron Weasley, her elder by a year, was the only one she had left. Ginny was closest to Ron, easily because of they were both the youngest of all the Weasley's children. However, he was also a git and a prat most of the time. Ginny rolled her eyes, perhaps more like, all the time. When she was dating Dean Thomas toward the end of her 5th year, Ron would not cut the poor boy a break. Eventually, Dean had no choice but to back out of the relationship, and run for the hills when Ron got wind of him 'breaking poor little Ginny's heart' (which George thought was hilarious- for obvious reasons.) Ron was dear to her, but their relationship had begun to strain when he started to date a fellow friend, Hermione Granger. Even though the relationship was easily described as 'gag-worthy' at times, she was happy for them.
Ginny thought Hermione was absolutely beautiful, with her bright intelligent eyes, and curly auburn hair. She was easily the smartest witch attending Hogwarts, and Ginny secretly thought, perhaps in all of Wizardry history. Ginny would be shocked if Hermione didn't make Head Girl in the upcoming year, and Hermione's final year at Hogwarts.
And last, but definitely not least, the infamous Harry Potter. At the mere utterance of his name would put Ginny in a slight swoon a couple years ago, but not anymore. In the past year, they have become close, very close. Maybe it was because they both felt like the third wheel in Ron and Hermione's exclusive relationship, or that they both shared the same terrifying experience of Voldemort wreaking havoc with their minds. Whatever it was, they become the best of friends, and Ginny found out that she could tell Harry anything, and he would always listen attentively- and tell her she wasn't alone. Nothing romantic ever bloomed from their friendship, despite Ron's unyielding encouragement. They were just friends, and remain only such.
Ginny let her mind wander, as she gazed out at the endless meadow. Her parents were gone for the night, Order of the Phoenix business that she tried not to get herself involved in. Not that she didn't want to help; she would have been glad to- Ginny blanched, her parents were still preaching about how young she was, and that she shouldn't involve herself in 'adult' matters. Even though she was a part of the crucial battle at the Ministry of Magic two years ago, that finally revealed to the public that Voldemort was indeed still very much alive and very much in power.
Ginny shuddered, that night still haunted her dreams. The fear that had coursed through her body and the adrenaline that pumped through her veins. She was terrified, and even at the moment, she didn't know where she obtained the strength to battle all those Death Eaters. One in particular. Since her first horrid year at Hogwarts, Ginny a personal vendetta against Lucius Malfoy, who had slipped her Tom Riddle's Diary which ultimately unlocked the dreaded Chamber of Secrets. It was a wonder that no one was critically hurt from the events that had taken place.
Ginny would wake up screaming at nights still. She could still see Tom Riddle's handsome dark features lingering in the back of her mind. And when she was asleep, it was when she was the most vulnerable. His breath would be on her neck, causing her hair to stand on end. His silky voice haunting her, telling her, commanding her- she was not alone, and never would be. Ginny feared the day, the day that she would lose all resolve and collapse completely into his power. She only divulged her fears to Harry, knowing that he would understand. At first he laughed, joking with her that he would rather have her image of Voldemort, rather than the pale skeletal monster that plagued him. But, he was wrong. Tom Riddle was far more dangerous. He was charming, clever, and devilishly handsome. On some level, it didn't matter to her what he had become, to her- Tom Riddle was Tom Riddle. Not Voldemort. And she was scared witless.
Ginny bit her lip as a shiver ran down her spine. It was nearly dark, and she could see the stars starting to dot the sky. Tomorrow, Ron and Harry would return with Hermione to the Burrow. They had an impromptu visit; apparently Hermione's parents were concerned with her choice in a boyfriend, like all good and snoopy parents were. So, tonight she was alone, a night alone at the Burrow was rare indeed, and Ginny didn't know what to do with all the extra room and time. Usually she would go into her room, and work on new songs, writing lyrics as she went along. But, tonight, something was different. Not to sound overdramatic, but she felt something in the air. Something was wrong. Gathering her guitar and the scattered parchments, she headed back into the warm house.
***
Looking upwards, Draco Malfoy could see the endless night sky. The stars twinkling in the distance; seemingly to mock him as he let his head loll back and forth. His eyes refused to focus, and he had long forgotten the excruciating pain that racked through his body. Voldemort and his father, Lucius Malfoy, had been hexing and cursing him since twilight. They had to weaken his body, before the ritual began.
Surrounding him, was hell, every last Death Eater was present, standing silently to the side. Draco, himself, was chained to a crucifix that stood among them. Blood poured freely from his skull, from when he had bashed his head into the wooden plank praying to fall into blissful unconsciousness. Earlier that evening, the ritual had begun- an honor in the name of the Malfoys. Draco smirked. Nothing as trivial as becoming a Death Eater, which lately has become a dime-a-dozen occurrence, but something worth risking his life for: to become the greatest and most powerful wizard to have ever lived.
Then, I'll show Potter-
Before he finished his thought, darkness enveloped him. He was shocked back into reality when as he felt the ice cold water drip down his form, mingling with his blood, causing a pink hue puddle at his feet. His father stood there with an empty bucket in his hand, panting from the exertion of hexing his own son for the past couple hours.
***
Ignoring Draco's groan, Lucius turned and bowed slightly to the cloaked figure beside him. "I think that is enough, Lord." The creature nodded and reached out toward one of the other numerous cloaked figures, all which were down on their knees- seemingly in awe of the event occurring before them. The Death Eater that approached the creature pulled out within his cloaks a small black box. The creature laid one skeletal hand upon the box, fingering its smooth surface.
"You do know what this means, Lucius," the creature whispered harshly. Lucius nodded, opening the box. From within he pulled out a large ornate dagger and handed it over to the other man. "You will lose your son- and gain a god among men." In a swift motion, Voldemort yanked up his sleeve and slit his own wrist. Lucius and the Death Eaters watched in fascination as a black liquid started to ooze from the wound.
Slowly he approached Draco stopping only inches from his face. The boy pulled back slightly. Reaching out with his unharmed arm, Voldemort pulled Draco's face toward him. "You, Draco Malfoy. Do you know what is about to happen?" The boy shook his head, causing his blood soaked locks to fall down around his face. Voldemort grinned fiendishly. "Your father never told you?" Draco glanced over to where his father was standing. Voldemort followed his gaze. Lucius smiled with anticipation. "You see Draco," Voldemort continued. "I'm dying." The boy's eyes squinted in confusion. "Or more specifically, my body is dying. You, my dear boy, have been chosen to become my new vessel." Draco's eyes widened in horror.
Voldemort shoved his bloody wrist into Draco's mouth, making sure the boy swallowed every last drop. At first, Draco struggled against the invading flesh, thrashing against his bonds- but eventually he fell silent, letting his head fall back- his eyes vacantly staring into the heavens.
Voldemort fell to his knees, heaving deeply. "Lucius," he beckoned, placing the ornate dagger into the man's hand before turning back to Draco's limp form. "Drain him." Lucius stood, walking slowly to his son's body. Tearing open Draco's shirt, Lucius thrust the dagger into his son's heart- being careful to hear the thud of the dagger coming into contact with the wooden plank of the crucifix on the other side.
Voldemort smiled widely, showing his small white pointed teeth. "It is done." He collapsed, shocking the Death Eaters who had flocked to their master's side. Lucius was the only one that stood apart from them, staying rooted in his spot in front of his son. Lifting a finger, Lucius brushed the hair off of his son's brow.
"We'll see if you can meet my expectations now, Draco."
***End of Prologue***
