..::.It's An Addiction.::..
Obsidian Rhapsody
Chapter One: An Escape
Ictiobus 31, 1256 AC -- Seventh Year of the Reign of King Merles III, Month of Devastation, Day of Changes
This day was much like the days' of past All Hallow's Eve. It was a time as such that changes occurred, whether as small as a butterfly being born from a cocoon or as dangerous as the political views of the Hierarchy. A day where darkness brings fear, and, along with it, Daemons of the nights. The kind that leech off of human life and are partial to the rather risqué nature. Fear indeed.
It was many a year past the coming of the Celestials, and with them their darker counterparts, the Daemons. No one really knows where they are from, nor do they bother to find out. Humans quickly learned it was better to never be seen, heard, or scented when in the presence of clan gatherings. Such social parties were only held on one night of the year, on this night, the Night of Changes. Usually these were at the more elegant side of the cities; for it wasn't unusual to see Celestials and Daemons in among the wealthy. They ruled now.
There were, of course, those who opposed them. They were labeled as Raquers, or more commonly, Troublemakers. These groups were elaborately planned and kept in deep secrecy. Families were hashed because of the lack of trust among their own. Wives didn't know were the husbands went during the days, causing them to doubt there fidelity. Siblings argued amongst themselves over the cause, turning against each other in later days. Yet, still, these communities hung on to the threadbare hope of returning the nations to what they once were.
On this night, a meeting of these Orders of Raquers was held . . .
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The stars were out in the small village, causing a luminous glow on the seemingly silver cobblestone pathways. Not many people wandered about at this time of night, most especially on a day such as this one. But some did not abide by this, whether from their own foolishness or bravery. One such person walked silently down the abandoned streets.
Cool breezes pressed lightly against the tall figure. It could not be told, but it was most probable that it was a man. Albeit a slender one. The black cloak whipped slightly around his legs and an arm lifted to keep his wide-brim hat on his head. His hair was just as silver as the full moon that looked down upon the earth and barely touched his shoulders. Other features were nondescript and could not be told.
His destination was unknown to the public eye, and but select few could even begin to guess. His graceful form swayed slightly as he walked, hinting at an old limp. Keen eyes tracked for any signs of life as he stopped before an obscure door, hidden behind old vines. Tucking his hat over his features, he swaggers inside the building.
It was rather astonishing that in the quite of the night, the shouts and debates going on inside could not be heard. Voices rose and dropped as each person tried to get their say. The man rested against the wall in a shady area, keeping quiet to himself. However, it was not to be as a dark figure approached him.
"Lucius," the name was spoken by way of greeting. The silver-haired man smirked slightly, a sharp canine tooth poking out over his soft lips.
"Severus, how pleasant to meet you here," came the reply, the tone of voice a light and very musical one.
The other man had dark hair, slightly oily, and very black eyes. Overall he was of neutral looks and was a figure of intimidation. Severus's eyes narrowed in contemplation as he gazed upon his life long friend. Lucius's hat had been shoved back, revealing his facial structure. He was most definitely what one would call handsome.
With stormy grey-blue eyes, pale lilac lips, and refined features, one could be sorely tempted. His stature was tall and defined. Broad shoulders hinted at bodybuilding, (although he most likely did not, it was plebeian to him) and although hidden, Severus knew that underneath his cloak were the tell-tale signs of a Celestial, gorgeous white wings.
"No need for small talk, my friend. You have come alone tonight, why? Where has your son scampered off to now?" asked Severus with a slight amount of amusement in his obsidian depths.
"He is . . . indisposed at the moment," he said delicately.
"In other words, he's off with one of his 'friends'." It was a statement, not a questions.
"You know him to well, Severus."
"It is all a part of being the boy's godfather," he retorted.
"Indeed, –"
"Silence!"
Anything else that Lucius had been going to say was cut short when their attention was pulled towards a very old man with long grey hair and beard. Every other person had quieted along with them. The elder was standing in front of his audience on a pseudo-podium. It really was just a long table with many chairs lined down it. He was at the very center seat. He was cloaked in the garb just as every other man was. Unless you count the fact that his were a very unusual shade of purple. . . Otherwise, he had a commanding presence.
"My colleagues, I am aware that you have most probably received the news already," with this, Lucius shot a questioning look towards Severus. He shrugged in response. Whatever it was, he had not heard if it. "But it seems as though we have a bit of a problem," he continued solemnly. "Our dear Harry Potter has found a way from the shelter we placed him in when he was but a babe."
Gasps and murmurs had started at the confirmation of the rumors that had been floating about. Lucius stilled, and lost the look of amusement in his eyes. He cast a glace towards his friend. Severus had lost the pallor of his skin and looked a bit sick.
"It is too early," he whispered, he mouth barely moving.
"Hush now, I know. But there is nothing we can do for the moment. Our hands are quite tied with the Daemons and the like running about. I fear that the only solution is to have a volunteer keep close watch on him. The protection magic and the wards took to long to build up and drained us too much to rework them now. I also am afraid that to Mr. Potter it would be easier to break them a second time than the first. He has much knowledge, and yet every little. He knows nothing of the forces at work here, but wields great power over his natural gifts," he said placidly. Albus Dumbledore knew what to look forward to. He would enjoy this very much.
Harry Potter was an enigma to most of them. When he was born, he attracted people in the flocks to him. He was a precious babe. As the son of Lilly Evans and James Potter, a celestial and daemon, many people sought to kill him. It was not an approved marriage in the least.
But what was most frightening was when attacked by opposing forces in the middle of the night, little Harry was the only to come out alive. The who sought to murder the family was a very dark lord. Most people assumed that he had attacked the Potters because of their union, but the Raquers knew otherwise.
The boy was subject to a deadly prophecy. No one, save Albus, knew what the prophecy held. And that was where the amusement came from. His periwinkle blue eyes twinkled madly. It was easy to see he was up to something. But then again, the sparkle was almost always present.
"We need someone whom we can depend upon to monitor Mr. Potter. A person who knows secrecy and is cunning," His eyes drifted towards Lucius on this. Lucius himself was intrigued. The Head of the Raquer wanted him to go? Now that was something. He, being the only Celestial among them, was naturally untrusted. He smirked.
"This person must be willing to get rather close to Mr. Potter, dangerous as he is . . . Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"I will go."
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Three Days Earlier . . .
The night was a cold one. Soft breezes pushing the falling snow against the tiny abandoned shack. It stood in the middle of nowhere and was surrounded by many different evergreen forestry. The house was completely alone. Shingles were being blown of the roof, allowing the chilling air to seep into the bitter contents of the home. Only one person had taken up residence in this house, and now was the time for him to go.
The walls were mundane and hardly a supportive type of shelter. However, they were stable enough to carry shelves of books upon books. They were rare, one-of-a-kind books. Things that should have never seen the light of day. And they didn't. Literally, of course. They were sealed in the tiny cottage where one man looked after them and knew each and every one of them inside and out. He was kept there not for his safety, but for those around him. That is until now.
Hair as dark as the night sky was glistening with many metallic strands of deep jade, amethyst, and azure strands that fell across the young mans forehead. Hidden beneath the longs locks that stretched across his face was his only mar. It was a disfiguration that made him to shatter every mirror he owned. It was also the cause of his imprisonment.
The youth lay on one of the small sofas that accommodated the room. It was a very upright chair that had designs screaming Victorian. Old as they were, they had not become any more comfortable over the years. He was surely going to awake with a crick in his neck, what with the way he was positioned. His head rested lightly on his own shoulder, and his legs were brought up his chest to rest on the chair. His face was peaceful and innocently beautiful, almost girlish. The first thought that would come to one's mind: He doesn't seem harmful at all. Yet that was his allure. Suddenly his eyes flashed open to reveal a most unusual color. Then again, everything about the young man was odd. Crystalline eyes of pure emerald lazily looked around his surroundings.
The oak desk that had been there since before he could remember (which was a very long time indeed) had scattered letters and fragments of books sprayed across the roughly grained top. A candle that was barely burning and had been melted down to the wick sat in the far right corner on it. The squandering light flickered, causing the shadows to melt together than rip apart. The floor was made of rotting Cherokee boards. Despite the nasty conditions of the house, it was perfectly clean. With an exception of the books. They seemed to have their own minds, and he could hardly ever control what they wanted to do.
Moving with feline grace, the youth stood up. His features were highly aristocratic and displayed a feminine beauty that no one else could possess and still ooze masculinity. Rubbing his bleary eyes with the back of his hands, sharp claws came into view. In the stead of regular hands, his were slender and lead to very pointed nails. His white, loosely fitting sleeves fell back down to his shoulders. The shirt was made of thin linen. It was mainly a docile shirt, nothing precariously fancy. The top two buttons were missing, displaying a peek at his taunt and curiously hairless chest. Resting from his right hip to his left thigh was a tan belt made of the same leather as the rustic chairs. One side of his shirt peeked over the belt on the left side. The other half of the shirt was tucked comfortably in black pants. They were made of a coarse material, yet highly flexible.
It was curious that with the weather what it was, he bore no sign of noticing it. Shifting on his feet, he walked with ease towards the other side of the room. He couldn't remember when he had begun reading all the books aligned in front of him, but he knew it was a necessary evil in his plot to escape. The boy had read everything. Every little detail he would remember when the time was right, for that was the strange workings of the books. At the moment, though, he knew it was finally his time. Time to be free.
Free. He could not recall a time when he was. The only thing he knew about his past was the vague memories he could bring up. It was nothing much, just a flash of devilish green light, a scream, and a chilling laughter that haunted even his waking moments when he dared to think of it. Shuddering lightly, he turned his gaze to the almost nonexistent door. It was nothing more than boards hooked in an odd angle. It was also the most precious thing he had ever seen in his very sheltered life. It was a door to the Outside, a place he had never been.
From books he had learned that the Daemons and Celestials had ruled with a firm hand for over a thousand years. He also knew that a very Dark presence loomed over them. Its power was of seduction and persuasion. With little bits of talking here and there, it had caused discord among the nobles. They were divided amongst themselves, one side pushing for the elimination of the human race, and the other a desperate plea against. Perhaps they were the more intelligent side, having the foresight to know that the mortals would resist.
If only they knew.
Shaking his head, he turned his thoughts elsewhere. It was time for escape. Time for Freedom. Gazing to the shoddy door, he walked slowly towards it. A simple spell, and the wards would drop. It was the last barrier. He had been working for many months on this. Using every bit of subtlety in his bones, he had slowly diminished them without arousing suspicion. He was not naive enough to believe that he was not watched. What would be the point of placing him here and abandoning him, never to know what happened of the prisoner?
Cursing himself for allowing his thoughts to stray once more, he moved closer to the boards and peeked through the cracks. It was snowing. He had already been aware of that. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he uttered nondescript words and immediately his clothing was altered.
Instead of his loose-fitting clothing he had been wearing, in its place where clothes fit for the expedition he planned to take. It was all black, as he had intended for it to be. His shirt was snug and the sleeves were arms length, tucking into leather gloves that shot up to his elbows. His pants were heavy and lined with soft rabbits fur on the inside, providing insulation. Boots were tough, and fit for the road. The feature he liked the most was the cloak that hung protectively around his lithe form. It was, of course, black with silver fastenings. The hood was already drawn up around his head, covering his facial features and hair from view.
Instead of the soft and girly figure that had once stood in the same spot, there was a dark and foreboding figure. One that bandits would hesitate to attack, despite the lack of height. It was made up for in intimidation.
Chuckling to himself, he gazed up, his emerald eyes glowing. His sight was set on the door in front of him. With determination that came from sixteen years of being trapped, his whispered the power word and calmly watched as his door to freedom was opened. Smiling in the confines of the shadowed hood, he took his first step into the life he was destined to live.
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Four Days Later . . .
Faraway, nearing two hundred miles, a blonde-haired man began his journey. If not anything, he would enjoy the thrill of getting close to such danger and risk. Sadly, he had no idea of just what awaited him . . .
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A/N: Hi!! ; I'm sorry I changed this so much. But I found that I liked this much better than the older version of "Hybrid Theory". Do you know, that I originally intended for this to be Draco/Harry? It's funny how it worked out . . . But anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! It's much longer than what I had anticipated it to be. It might be a little boring now, but please bare with me. If I'm confusing you, things will clear up! 3; Just stay with me and please review!
Obsidian Rhapsody