Harry Potter
And the Curse of the Enchantre
Ch 1
Birthday Curses
It was dismal. I could hear the storm bellowing out side of the cave. I knew my potion was working.I knew my plan would be fulfilled.
Wormtail lay quivering in a corner, the coward. He calls himself a true Death Eater; he calls himself slave to me, Lord Voldemort. He is pathetic. But he is faithful. His faith will get him far.
A large, ancient silver cauldron hissed and frothed before me; the potion within it was about ready. It was a thick silver in color, a sort of liquid-air, a dense fog even, in texture. My basilisk hissed at my heals. I looked down, abandoning my thoughts. I understood her.
"Niani," I commanded in parseltongue; Wormtail gazed at me, stupid wonder crawling upon his face. "Niani, venom, I need venom! Bring forth your deadly venom!" I hissed at her.
The serpent hissed back at me; Wormtail fell to his knees, placed a cordial under Niani's fangs, and began to collect her fatal venom. He flinched, but dared not cry out, as a drop of her lethal venom burned like acid through his frail skin. I saw water grow in his eyes. How pain amused me.
Wormtail sat up when the cordial was full. "Master!" he called to me, his voice carrying a hint of fear, "I offer you your venom!" he said, and, still on his knees, as required, he handed me the cordial.
Drop by drop, is stirred it into the brew. It turned instantly from a pure silver, to a powerful gold. Smiling cruelly, I added the last of the required ingredients, my own blood. I rolled up the royal violet sleeve of my robe. I used a gold knife to slowly carve a cross into my wrist; I let all the blood my wrist would offer fall into the potion.
Then, with a simple spell, I blasted the cave's roof open, and used another( more complex( spell to stop the raging storm. The clouds parted, revealing the moon. It's silver moonbeams splashed into the potion, and I stirred the bubbling liquid thirteen counterclockwise with my left hand and thirteen times clockwise with my right, all while I recited these words:
"Mater Luna, Regina Nocis! Give me an heir! Mater Luna, Regina Nocis! Mingle with my brew! Mater Luna, Regina Nocis! Bring forth child of my blood! Bring forth child of the night! Bring forth child of the Enchantre!"
Suddenly, that storm began to rekindle itself, and a whirlpool of lighting shocked the sky. My potion frothed to the brim, when abruptly, everything stopped. Then, something began to come out of the cauldron.
First, the top of a head. Hair, as black as the wings of thestrals. Long, and wavy. Next, the whole head: eyes, narrow, and thin. Innocent violet in color. Then a long, thin neck, and a body, clothed in a veil of mist. And at last, the legs and feet. The girl, my heir, stepped out of the cauldron, her body sopping. She gazed at me, a blank gaze. "Father," she said, "Father."
Harry Potter awoke with a jolt. He felt like a hot iron was being forced upon his unique, lightning-shaped scar that carved into his forehead. He slapped his hand to his forehead, feeling heat beneath it. The pain was intense; the heat was searing. Abruptly, he sat up.
It was the dream, the dream that had awoken him, just as a dream had awoken him two years ago. But this dream, it was different. In this dream, he was Lord Voldemort.
Harry shuddered. Then, a thought sent relief tingling through his body: Sirius. And then, that relief turned into agony.
Sirius Black, innocent convict murderer, was dead. His godfather, the closest thing he'd ever had to a father was dead. He felt familiar tears welling up in his eyes and a knot swelling in his throat.
A rustle beside him jerked him away fro his private mournings. It was freckle-faced, fire-haired, gangly Ron Weasly. Harry turned towards him. Ron's eyes were still closed. He mumbled something unintelligible.
"Whaaisit?" he groaned, barely scratching the surface of consciousness. Harry shook his head, though he was sure Ron didn't even notice, as, a calm snoring told him that his best friend was sound asleep once more.
Harry awoke next as golden rays tickled his face. His eyes snapped open. It was daylight. Ron was running his hands through his shoulder- lengthed hair. He looked ridiculous in his extremely short pajamas. Harry smiled faintly.
"Morning Harry." Ron grumbled, unsuccessfully stifling a huge yawn. Suddenly, Ron's eyes widened, and he seemed to have awaked as if he'd been slapped in the face.
Harry frowned. Ron grinned his famous ear-to-ear grin. "Happy sixteenth, mate!' he called, jumping to his feet. Harry looked puzzled for a moment, and then bean to grin himself. It was his sixteenth birthday.
A sharp knock at Ron's door startled them both. A fair, teenage girl carelessly strode in. She had bushy, sandy brown hair.
"Ron, Harry, get dressed! Oh, happy birthday Harry! Ron's mum baked a magnificent cake, and the school lists came in," she said all in one breath.
Ron and Harry, who were both still quarter asleep, didn't completely comprehend. "Cake?" Ron mumbled, "Where's the cake?"
Harry smiled. "Thanks Hermione," he said to her. She tossed a parcel to him. It was quite heavy.
"Happy birthday Harry! And get dressed you two! It's nearly noon!" she called in mock anger, a sparkle of laughter in her eyes.
And the Curse of the Enchantre
Ch 1
Birthday Curses
It was dismal. I could hear the storm bellowing out side of the cave. I knew my potion was working.I knew my plan would be fulfilled.
Wormtail lay quivering in a corner, the coward. He calls himself a true Death Eater; he calls himself slave to me, Lord Voldemort. He is pathetic. But he is faithful. His faith will get him far.
A large, ancient silver cauldron hissed and frothed before me; the potion within it was about ready. It was a thick silver in color, a sort of liquid-air, a dense fog even, in texture. My basilisk hissed at my heals. I looked down, abandoning my thoughts. I understood her.
"Niani," I commanded in parseltongue; Wormtail gazed at me, stupid wonder crawling upon his face. "Niani, venom, I need venom! Bring forth your deadly venom!" I hissed at her.
The serpent hissed back at me; Wormtail fell to his knees, placed a cordial under Niani's fangs, and began to collect her fatal venom. He flinched, but dared not cry out, as a drop of her lethal venom burned like acid through his frail skin. I saw water grow in his eyes. How pain amused me.
Wormtail sat up when the cordial was full. "Master!" he called to me, his voice carrying a hint of fear, "I offer you your venom!" he said, and, still on his knees, as required, he handed me the cordial.
Drop by drop, is stirred it into the brew. It turned instantly from a pure silver, to a powerful gold. Smiling cruelly, I added the last of the required ingredients, my own blood. I rolled up the royal violet sleeve of my robe. I used a gold knife to slowly carve a cross into my wrist; I let all the blood my wrist would offer fall into the potion.
Then, with a simple spell, I blasted the cave's roof open, and used another( more complex( spell to stop the raging storm. The clouds parted, revealing the moon. It's silver moonbeams splashed into the potion, and I stirred the bubbling liquid thirteen counterclockwise with my left hand and thirteen times clockwise with my right, all while I recited these words:
"Mater Luna, Regina Nocis! Give me an heir! Mater Luna, Regina Nocis! Mingle with my brew! Mater Luna, Regina Nocis! Bring forth child of my blood! Bring forth child of the night! Bring forth child of the Enchantre!"
Suddenly, that storm began to rekindle itself, and a whirlpool of lighting shocked the sky. My potion frothed to the brim, when abruptly, everything stopped. Then, something began to come out of the cauldron.
First, the top of a head. Hair, as black as the wings of thestrals. Long, and wavy. Next, the whole head: eyes, narrow, and thin. Innocent violet in color. Then a long, thin neck, and a body, clothed in a veil of mist. And at last, the legs and feet. The girl, my heir, stepped out of the cauldron, her body sopping. She gazed at me, a blank gaze. "Father," she said, "Father."
Harry Potter awoke with a jolt. He felt like a hot iron was being forced upon his unique, lightning-shaped scar that carved into his forehead. He slapped his hand to his forehead, feeling heat beneath it. The pain was intense; the heat was searing. Abruptly, he sat up.
It was the dream, the dream that had awoken him, just as a dream had awoken him two years ago. But this dream, it was different. In this dream, he was Lord Voldemort.
Harry shuddered. Then, a thought sent relief tingling through his body: Sirius. And then, that relief turned into agony.
Sirius Black, innocent convict murderer, was dead. His godfather, the closest thing he'd ever had to a father was dead. He felt familiar tears welling up in his eyes and a knot swelling in his throat.
A rustle beside him jerked him away fro his private mournings. It was freckle-faced, fire-haired, gangly Ron Weasly. Harry turned towards him. Ron's eyes were still closed. He mumbled something unintelligible.
"Whaaisit?" he groaned, barely scratching the surface of consciousness. Harry shook his head, though he was sure Ron didn't even notice, as, a calm snoring told him that his best friend was sound asleep once more.
Harry awoke next as golden rays tickled his face. His eyes snapped open. It was daylight. Ron was running his hands through his shoulder- lengthed hair. He looked ridiculous in his extremely short pajamas. Harry smiled faintly.
"Morning Harry." Ron grumbled, unsuccessfully stifling a huge yawn. Suddenly, Ron's eyes widened, and he seemed to have awaked as if he'd been slapped in the face.
Harry frowned. Ron grinned his famous ear-to-ear grin. "Happy sixteenth, mate!' he called, jumping to his feet. Harry looked puzzled for a moment, and then bean to grin himself. It was his sixteenth birthday.
A sharp knock at Ron's door startled them both. A fair, teenage girl carelessly strode in. She had bushy, sandy brown hair.
"Ron, Harry, get dressed! Oh, happy birthday Harry! Ron's mum baked a magnificent cake, and the school lists came in," she said all in one breath.
Ron and Harry, who were both still quarter asleep, didn't completely comprehend. "Cake?" Ron mumbled, "Where's the cake?"
Harry smiled. "Thanks Hermione," he said to her. She tossed a parcel to him. It was quite heavy.
"Happy birthday Harry! And get dressed you two! It's nearly noon!" she called in mock anger, a sparkle of laughter in her eyes.