Disclaimer - All things Harry Potter related in this story belong to JKR.
Please don't sue me.
This story is going to deal with things that a lot of people feel strongly about. It will deal with the changing of our real history, mainly WWII. If this offends you in any way please don't flame me, just don't read.
Those of you who are still interested read on. I promise I'll do my best to make it interesting for you.
-=-=-=-
The cold breeze of the night blew swiftly threw the open windows of the cave, sending the leaves that had come to rest there lofting out into the sky. The flames of the fire flickered slightly before extinguishing altogether, sending a gray stream of smoke towards the rocky ceiling.
A short, pudgy man sat huddled in the corner, clutching his cloak to himself for warmth. As the wind reached him he shuddered and drew his legs closer to his chest. His breathing had grown shallow and each time he exhaled white puffs of air quickly disappeared into the darkness.
Across him, on the opposite wall of the cavern, there lay another man. His head rested peacefully on a down pillow and his skeletal body was covered with numerous blankets. When the fire burned out his eyes flashed open to reveal deep red slits in his sallow face, shining in the blackness.
"Light it." He said in a coarse voice. The smaller man quickly stumbled to his feet and rushed to the place where the fire had been. He pointed at the pile of kindling with a silver hand and muttered a spell into the night. Immediately, dark crimson flames lit the area to show the look of terror and imprisonment that covered his face.
"There you are Master." He stammered, still shivering from the cold. The eyes of his master followed him until he had returned to the corner of the cave. Before long, the red-eyed man fell back into a dreamless sleep and the other began softly whimpering, the hushed cries disrupting the intense silence around him. But he too eventually felt himself begin to drift off to sleep.
The next morning a ray of sunlight shone into the cave and landed on the plump man's eyes, waking him from a terrible nightmare. He awoke covered in a cold sweat, and realizing he had already overslept.
"Oh no," he muttered quietly, careful not to wake his master, "So many chores to do before he wakes up. Be quiet, Peter. Be careful." He crept out of the cave's mouth and began to summon firewood from the surrounding forest. A crisp morning dew was still clinging to the grass around him and making the hem of his robes damp.
He placed the sticks and branches on top of a pile of ash that had been last nights fire. He once again simply pointed at the wood and it burst into flames. His footsteps echoed in the cavern as he exited again, looking for anything edible. Once out of hearing range he began talking to himself again.
"You just need to relax Peter. Your master will care for you. He's promised you everything. Once the plan is put into action everything will be good again. You'll be powerful Peter, more powerful than anyone at school ever would have thought." He reassured himself as he picked berries from the nearby bushes and killed two scrawny rabbits.
He was already behind in his morning tasks, so he put each rabbit on a splint and let them begin roasting while he hurriedly swept the cave opening and placed new wards around the cavern, protecting them from anyone who might come meandering by.
He looked up to see a bird flying away into the sunrise and wished for a moment that he could be more like it. Free and soaring away from all the bad things in the world, leaving them behind.
"Wormtail!" His lord said in a cruel tone. "Where is breakfast?"
"Coming master!" The man called Wormtail replied, stumbling over a loose rock on his return to the cave's entrance. He quickly removed the rabbit from the splint and held it up for his master to eat.
The red-eyed man held out a long, emaciated arm and grasped the morsel, before ravenously devouring it, leaving only the bones and a few pieces of flesh left for his servant.
"Thank you, master." Wormtail said when he was given the scraps. After biting off as much of the meat as possible he tossed the bones in a pile that had slowly begun to grow since they're arrival at the cave nearly a month ago.
"The potion has almost taken its full effect." Said the master. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the rock wall behind him; exhausted from the small excursion eating had been for him.
"Yes, my lord. Soon you will be strong again. Then we will begin working on the-" He was cut off with a cold look.
"We? There has never been a 'we' here. You are simply someone to help make me strong again. And when I am, I will be the one to carry out the plan. If you have not already been completely drained of all use then you shall join my other followers and work alongside them. Never will there be a 'we' in this. You are not worthy." He said icily. The tone of his voice matched their surroundings perfectly, bitter and empty. Without waiting for his servant to reply he continued his speech.
"This time will be different. I have stronger magic and wizards on my side. I can finally triumph over all those who thought me unworthy or inadequate to make anything of myself. Of course, they've already been proved wrong. Now I'll make them pay for their doubts."
-=-=-=-
"Harry, that was brilliant. Never seen anything like it in my life." Ron Weasley said and clapped his best friend on the shoulder.
"It really was amazing Harry. Where did you learn to do that?" Hermione agreed and smiled broadly at him. Harry, using his signature modesty, denied it all.
"It was nothing that either of you couldn't have done. Just a spell Sirius taught me over the summer, that's all. No big deal." He said and tried to wave off the subject, but his two friends wouldn't have it.
"Come on Harry. What spell was it? What does it do?" Ron insisted, knowing that if he asked enough times Harry would eventually cave in and tell them what they wanted to know.
The three friends apparated into a long, pallid corridor lined with dark ebony doors on either side. After walking down the long stretch of the sallow hallway for quite some time, they finally stopped in front of one of the doors. In comparison to its surroundings, it was just another door- but to them, it elicited esteem and prestige. For on the door, there was a plaque, and there engraved on that plaque were three names - their names. And after each name, there was only one word. Auror.
"If I tell you will you let it drop?" Harry finally said and relaxed back into a black leather armchair. Hermione and Ron both smiled and nodded as they sat in their own chairs.
"Fine." He said. "Well, as you know, I spent most of the summer with Sirius and he taught me a lot of dueling spells. That one was called the Acerbitas Curse. Basically it causes whatever injuries the opponent has had to all start hurting simultaneously, making it impossible for them to do anything. The glowing you saw was their skin reacting to having that much happen to it all at the same time. There, happy now?"
"Not really, but you did lighten the mood a bit." Ron raised his wand and summoned a roll from the nearby coffee table. "Another victory to add to the book."
"Right," Hermione said and retrieved the book from her desk. Since they had become an Auror team nearly six months before they had decided to record all the victories they had in a logbook. So far they had had about one a week, each more exciting than the last. As their Auror skills became more advanced every battle they participated in became more complex and involved. So the entries grew longer and longer, and now they were taking up several pages instead of just a few paragraphs.
Her quill scratched against the paper as her hand moved furiously, left to right, recording their conquest. Thee pages later she closed the booklet and placed the feather on top, smiling contentedly.
"Done then?" Harry asked, though he already knew the answer. "Alright then, what do you say we go to dinner? My treat. We haven't eaten in nearly two days."
Ron was about to answer when his stomach did the talking for him. Letting go of all the anxiety they had been put through over the past several days, the friends let go of everything and laughed together until tears of joy gathered in their eyes and ran down their cheeks. When they finally collected themselves Hermione was the first one to speak.
"Dinner sounds great. But I hope you're going to stick to the 'your treat' thing, because I'm awfully hungry." She said and pulled them both to their feet. "Where are we going?"
"I thought we'd just go to Three Broomsticks if that's okay with you two." Harry said and glanced at them briefly for their approval. They both nodded and held their stomachs, before the three of them apparated to the busy streets of Hogsmeade together.
Once they arrived at Three Broomsticks the mood of their conversation grew more conserved and quiet. Madame Rosemerta brought them three butterbeers and a basket of chicken wings before congratulating them and going to help her other customers.
"That was probably our best duel this year." Ron said and took a long drink from his mug. "Maybe even the best one yet."
"No, the one at the end of Hogwarts was the best by far." Hermione said, her eyes glazing over with memory. "Our first one."
"The day Voldemort was defeated." Harry added quietly. The three sat solemnly, each reliving the experience in their own way.
It had been at the end of their final year at Hogwarts, three months before they were to graduate and go their own ways into the wizarding world. The school had been decorated for the occasion, as it was every year, and all the seventh year students were ecstatic at the idea of making it on their own.
That night Voldemort had come to the school through the floo network disguised as a worker from the Ministry and had asked to be taken to the Gryffindor Tower because he had urgent news for Harry about the death of his godfather. He had then taken Harry away after placing him under a full body bind. Ron had heard Harry protesting from upstairs and immediately run to the common room where he witnessed Harry being levitated out of the open window and out into the stormy gray night.
Without hesitating he had woken Hermione up and together they followed their captive friend on two broomsticks, Harry's Firebolt and Ron's second- hand Nimbus 2000.
They had flown for miles until finally arriving outside a tall black castle. They tracked the Dark Lord deep into the heart of the castle and into a large room made of black obsidian that opened to the sky.
In the center of the room was a dueling ring decorated with silver and white serpents around the edges of the circle, all baring their fangs at whoever was inside.
Harry had been at a stand off with Voldemort when they had arrived. Each of the duelers had their wand in the ready position. After sending one glance towards Hermione and Ron, the three students all raised their wands and preformed the killing curse at the same time, defeating the Dark Lord for the final time, or so they thought.
Little did they know that he was slowly regaining his strength.
-=-=-=-
Wormtail stood in awe of the man in front of him. In two short weeks his master had regained all of the strength he could and was now able to perform very powerful magic again.
His master stood tall in front of him, a cruel smile on his face, causing his red eyes to flash in the dim lighting of the cave. He flexed his fingers and drew his wand from a hidden pocket of his faded black robes. As he held it a familiar warmth came over him. The memory of the spells he had preformed in years past came back to him. In his mind he saw the frightened faces of people he had killed, but no faces were more vivid in his mind that those of Lily and James Potter. Their eyes still haunted his soul.
"Master, you are strong again." Wormtail praised. The look of fear vanished from his blood red eyes and he sneered at his servant. "Are you ready to begin work on the plan? There is so much yet to do."
"Yes, I am ready. And soon, just as before, the entire world shall fear me and quake whenever they hear my name. This time the plan will work. There will be no interference, no resistance. They have no idea what's happening. Lord Voldemort will indeed rise again."
-=-=-=-
Once again, this story will deal with the changing of some very touchy subjects in history. If it gets to a point where you no longer want to read feel free to leave. I'm not stopping you. Just no flames about it please because now you've been warned twice.
Now that you took the time to read please click that little blue button down there and tell me what you thought. See, I'm one of those writers who has been spoiled with lots of reviews on some of my stuff so I expect the same here.
So in five reviews you get the next chapter. If I get ten it'll be longer and you'll find out more about the plan. I promise!
REVIEW!
This story is going to deal with things that a lot of people feel strongly about. It will deal with the changing of our real history, mainly WWII. If this offends you in any way please don't flame me, just don't read.
Those of you who are still interested read on. I promise I'll do my best to make it interesting for you.
-=-=-=-
The cold breeze of the night blew swiftly threw the open windows of the cave, sending the leaves that had come to rest there lofting out into the sky. The flames of the fire flickered slightly before extinguishing altogether, sending a gray stream of smoke towards the rocky ceiling.
A short, pudgy man sat huddled in the corner, clutching his cloak to himself for warmth. As the wind reached him he shuddered and drew his legs closer to his chest. His breathing had grown shallow and each time he exhaled white puffs of air quickly disappeared into the darkness.
Across him, on the opposite wall of the cavern, there lay another man. His head rested peacefully on a down pillow and his skeletal body was covered with numerous blankets. When the fire burned out his eyes flashed open to reveal deep red slits in his sallow face, shining in the blackness.
"Light it." He said in a coarse voice. The smaller man quickly stumbled to his feet and rushed to the place where the fire had been. He pointed at the pile of kindling with a silver hand and muttered a spell into the night. Immediately, dark crimson flames lit the area to show the look of terror and imprisonment that covered his face.
"There you are Master." He stammered, still shivering from the cold. The eyes of his master followed him until he had returned to the corner of the cave. Before long, the red-eyed man fell back into a dreamless sleep and the other began softly whimpering, the hushed cries disrupting the intense silence around him. But he too eventually felt himself begin to drift off to sleep.
The next morning a ray of sunlight shone into the cave and landed on the plump man's eyes, waking him from a terrible nightmare. He awoke covered in a cold sweat, and realizing he had already overslept.
"Oh no," he muttered quietly, careful not to wake his master, "So many chores to do before he wakes up. Be quiet, Peter. Be careful." He crept out of the cave's mouth and began to summon firewood from the surrounding forest. A crisp morning dew was still clinging to the grass around him and making the hem of his robes damp.
He placed the sticks and branches on top of a pile of ash that had been last nights fire. He once again simply pointed at the wood and it burst into flames. His footsteps echoed in the cavern as he exited again, looking for anything edible. Once out of hearing range he began talking to himself again.
"You just need to relax Peter. Your master will care for you. He's promised you everything. Once the plan is put into action everything will be good again. You'll be powerful Peter, more powerful than anyone at school ever would have thought." He reassured himself as he picked berries from the nearby bushes and killed two scrawny rabbits.
He was already behind in his morning tasks, so he put each rabbit on a splint and let them begin roasting while he hurriedly swept the cave opening and placed new wards around the cavern, protecting them from anyone who might come meandering by.
He looked up to see a bird flying away into the sunrise and wished for a moment that he could be more like it. Free and soaring away from all the bad things in the world, leaving them behind.
"Wormtail!" His lord said in a cruel tone. "Where is breakfast?"
"Coming master!" The man called Wormtail replied, stumbling over a loose rock on his return to the cave's entrance. He quickly removed the rabbit from the splint and held it up for his master to eat.
The red-eyed man held out a long, emaciated arm and grasped the morsel, before ravenously devouring it, leaving only the bones and a few pieces of flesh left for his servant.
"Thank you, master." Wormtail said when he was given the scraps. After biting off as much of the meat as possible he tossed the bones in a pile that had slowly begun to grow since they're arrival at the cave nearly a month ago.
"The potion has almost taken its full effect." Said the master. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the rock wall behind him; exhausted from the small excursion eating had been for him.
"Yes, my lord. Soon you will be strong again. Then we will begin working on the-" He was cut off with a cold look.
"We? There has never been a 'we' here. You are simply someone to help make me strong again. And when I am, I will be the one to carry out the plan. If you have not already been completely drained of all use then you shall join my other followers and work alongside them. Never will there be a 'we' in this. You are not worthy." He said icily. The tone of his voice matched their surroundings perfectly, bitter and empty. Without waiting for his servant to reply he continued his speech.
"This time will be different. I have stronger magic and wizards on my side. I can finally triumph over all those who thought me unworthy or inadequate to make anything of myself. Of course, they've already been proved wrong. Now I'll make them pay for their doubts."
-=-=-=-
"Harry, that was brilliant. Never seen anything like it in my life." Ron Weasley said and clapped his best friend on the shoulder.
"It really was amazing Harry. Where did you learn to do that?" Hermione agreed and smiled broadly at him. Harry, using his signature modesty, denied it all.
"It was nothing that either of you couldn't have done. Just a spell Sirius taught me over the summer, that's all. No big deal." He said and tried to wave off the subject, but his two friends wouldn't have it.
"Come on Harry. What spell was it? What does it do?" Ron insisted, knowing that if he asked enough times Harry would eventually cave in and tell them what they wanted to know.
The three friends apparated into a long, pallid corridor lined with dark ebony doors on either side. After walking down the long stretch of the sallow hallway for quite some time, they finally stopped in front of one of the doors. In comparison to its surroundings, it was just another door- but to them, it elicited esteem and prestige. For on the door, there was a plaque, and there engraved on that plaque were three names - their names. And after each name, there was only one word. Auror.
"If I tell you will you let it drop?" Harry finally said and relaxed back into a black leather armchair. Hermione and Ron both smiled and nodded as they sat in their own chairs.
"Fine." He said. "Well, as you know, I spent most of the summer with Sirius and he taught me a lot of dueling spells. That one was called the Acerbitas Curse. Basically it causes whatever injuries the opponent has had to all start hurting simultaneously, making it impossible for them to do anything. The glowing you saw was their skin reacting to having that much happen to it all at the same time. There, happy now?"
"Not really, but you did lighten the mood a bit." Ron raised his wand and summoned a roll from the nearby coffee table. "Another victory to add to the book."
"Right," Hermione said and retrieved the book from her desk. Since they had become an Auror team nearly six months before they had decided to record all the victories they had in a logbook. So far they had had about one a week, each more exciting than the last. As their Auror skills became more advanced every battle they participated in became more complex and involved. So the entries grew longer and longer, and now they were taking up several pages instead of just a few paragraphs.
Her quill scratched against the paper as her hand moved furiously, left to right, recording their conquest. Thee pages later she closed the booklet and placed the feather on top, smiling contentedly.
"Done then?" Harry asked, though he already knew the answer. "Alright then, what do you say we go to dinner? My treat. We haven't eaten in nearly two days."
Ron was about to answer when his stomach did the talking for him. Letting go of all the anxiety they had been put through over the past several days, the friends let go of everything and laughed together until tears of joy gathered in their eyes and ran down their cheeks. When they finally collected themselves Hermione was the first one to speak.
"Dinner sounds great. But I hope you're going to stick to the 'your treat' thing, because I'm awfully hungry." She said and pulled them both to their feet. "Where are we going?"
"I thought we'd just go to Three Broomsticks if that's okay with you two." Harry said and glanced at them briefly for their approval. They both nodded and held their stomachs, before the three of them apparated to the busy streets of Hogsmeade together.
Once they arrived at Three Broomsticks the mood of their conversation grew more conserved and quiet. Madame Rosemerta brought them three butterbeers and a basket of chicken wings before congratulating them and going to help her other customers.
"That was probably our best duel this year." Ron said and took a long drink from his mug. "Maybe even the best one yet."
"No, the one at the end of Hogwarts was the best by far." Hermione said, her eyes glazing over with memory. "Our first one."
"The day Voldemort was defeated." Harry added quietly. The three sat solemnly, each reliving the experience in their own way.
It had been at the end of their final year at Hogwarts, three months before they were to graduate and go their own ways into the wizarding world. The school had been decorated for the occasion, as it was every year, and all the seventh year students were ecstatic at the idea of making it on their own.
That night Voldemort had come to the school through the floo network disguised as a worker from the Ministry and had asked to be taken to the Gryffindor Tower because he had urgent news for Harry about the death of his godfather. He had then taken Harry away after placing him under a full body bind. Ron had heard Harry protesting from upstairs and immediately run to the common room where he witnessed Harry being levitated out of the open window and out into the stormy gray night.
Without hesitating he had woken Hermione up and together they followed their captive friend on two broomsticks, Harry's Firebolt and Ron's second- hand Nimbus 2000.
They had flown for miles until finally arriving outside a tall black castle. They tracked the Dark Lord deep into the heart of the castle and into a large room made of black obsidian that opened to the sky.
In the center of the room was a dueling ring decorated with silver and white serpents around the edges of the circle, all baring their fangs at whoever was inside.
Harry had been at a stand off with Voldemort when they had arrived. Each of the duelers had their wand in the ready position. After sending one glance towards Hermione and Ron, the three students all raised their wands and preformed the killing curse at the same time, defeating the Dark Lord for the final time, or so they thought.
Little did they know that he was slowly regaining his strength.
-=-=-=-
Wormtail stood in awe of the man in front of him. In two short weeks his master had regained all of the strength he could and was now able to perform very powerful magic again.
His master stood tall in front of him, a cruel smile on his face, causing his red eyes to flash in the dim lighting of the cave. He flexed his fingers and drew his wand from a hidden pocket of his faded black robes. As he held it a familiar warmth came over him. The memory of the spells he had preformed in years past came back to him. In his mind he saw the frightened faces of people he had killed, but no faces were more vivid in his mind that those of Lily and James Potter. Their eyes still haunted his soul.
"Master, you are strong again." Wormtail praised. The look of fear vanished from his blood red eyes and he sneered at his servant. "Are you ready to begin work on the plan? There is so much yet to do."
"Yes, I am ready. And soon, just as before, the entire world shall fear me and quake whenever they hear my name. This time the plan will work. There will be no interference, no resistance. They have no idea what's happening. Lord Voldemort will indeed rise again."
-=-=-=-
Once again, this story will deal with the changing of some very touchy subjects in history. If it gets to a point where you no longer want to read feel free to leave. I'm not stopping you. Just no flames about it please because now you've been warned twice.
Now that you took the time to read please click that little blue button down there and tell me what you thought. See, I'm one of those writers who has been spoiled with lots of reviews on some of my stuff so I expect the same here.
So in five reviews you get the next chapter. If I get ten it'll be longer and you'll find out more about the plan. I promise!
REVIEW!
