Chapter 1: Blue sky before the storm
'What is it,' said Voldemort, feeling tremendously murderous. 'What have you brought me now?'
He sat in the throne chamber, his slit for eyes closed as Peter Pettigrew approached him.
Pettigrew hated the chamber, his skin would prick uncomfortably at each step. Every now and then, tortuous cries wailed, ghost faces appearing for just a second from behind the black glistering walls. Trapped souls swirled just underneath its surface. Clenching his silver fist, he took a big breath.
'My Lord, Pot-Potter… the boy… he has…'
'Stop stuttering, and spit it out, I don't have all day for your silly rat-self.'
Peter cowed away, snivelling down to the floor and squeaked something inaudible out.
'What was that?'
'Potter survived!' Peter blurted out, still not looking up at his master. This was it, the end. He'd failed Voldemort too many a time, and he was about to feel the Dark Lord's rash. The word 'Crucio' was sure to follow.
'Potter survives…' Voldemort repeated in a deadly hiss. His slit red eyes opened, peering down at the squirming form of Pettigrew that had bowed so low his head touched the floor.
'Wormtail, tell me why I keep you?' Voldemort asked, rising from his black marble throne, his wizarding robes only ruffling faintly in the stark silence of the chamber.
Peter tried to think quickly, he couldn't afford to look worthless in the eyes of the Dark Lord, his life was more than at stake. 'Because… I have a plan to destroy Potter.' The problem with thinking quickly, you see, is that you tend to say things without rationally pondering their long-term consequences. And Peter had never been a bright wizard for that matter.
Thankfully for him, Voldemort hadn't been listening, too wrapped up in his own dark thoughts. 'What's his dearest desire, Wormtail. Tell me.'
Peter fumble on the floor, slowly getting back up, it seemed safe enough to do so, as Voldemort hadn't uttered any curse yet. But he tried to be careful, just in case.
'Potter… saw in the mirror of Erirsed- his parents. Potter's greatest desire is to have his parents living with him… But, they're already dead." He waited for the Dark Lord's response. 'My Lord killed them when…'
'I know what happened that night!' Voldemort paused after his sudden burst of anger. 'They're long gone and out of reach, and yet, Potter seems to cling to life like a drowning rat would cling to a rusty pipe.'
Peter squirmed; he didn't like the Dark Lord talking about rats like that way. But Pettigrew had to confess he was glad he wasn't asked to prove himself worthy. He didn't really have any plan to kill Potter, he'd never been good at making any sort of pranks in his earlier days… so organising a murder!
'His godfather, his last parent figure fell through the veil in the Department of Mysteries. Dead also…'
'He still had his friends… Ron Weasley and the mudblood,' Peter had started summarising all the people that kept Harry Potter alive by merely existing. He had two fingers raised, and was about to put up a third and a fourth by mentioning Dumbledore and the Werewolf Lupin, but unfortunately for him, he was cut short.
Pettigrew withered senselessly on the floor, shrill and yells meeting new heights as he was struck with an Unforgivable Curse. It lasted only a second, but for Peter, it seemed it had gone on for centuries. He lay there, sprawled on the floor, trying, with difficulty to wheeze air in his lungs once more. Blacks spots danced in front of his eyes when he was finally able to open them, squinting once more up at the Dark Lord.
'You said you had a plan, Wormtail.'
What did I tell you about thinking too quickly!
Harry sat next to the lake with his friends Ron and Hermione.
Hermione had a book propped on her knees, and was frowning, trying to understand a complicated spell chart, while Ron and Harry were busy skimming pebbles across the mirror like surface of the water.
'Watch this," Ron said, biting his lip in concentration, pulling his arm ready to throw the stone. With a quick thrust, the flat stone was off, bouncing effortless across the lake, large ripples spreading. 'Seven, eight, nine,' Ron said counting the jumps. 'Fifteen! Your tun mate!'
Ron's stone had finally sunken in the water after an amazing number of leaps. 'Accio Pebble!' It shot out from underneath the water, and if not for Harry's quick reflexes, it was about to hit him squarely in the forehead. Ron got back up after he'd been pulled down rather forcefully.
'I you could just charm it to come back normally, so it won't come racing at us like bullets!' Hermione exclaimed, from her place under the tree. 'It's the second time you've done this!'
Ron had refused to use the other charm, not wanting Hermione to see he still hadn't practised the Boomerang one. The only problem was that his own Accio charm had always got the tendency to fly a little too quickly. Harry picked the pebble up from the grass, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose as he did so.
'It could kill one of you! But of course, you two just don't seem concerned and…'
Harry readied himself to throw the stone. He had never skimmed before in his life, until today. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had never taken him anywhere with Dudley on their weekend trips. And he would spend weeks during the holidays at Mrs Figg's old smelly house while Dudley had gone to be a scout with some of his friends in Wales.
It was now just the beginning of a new school term at Hogwarts, and it would be the last days of sunshine they would get before a long time. Therefore, Ron, Hermione and Harry had left the Castle to spend most of their time outside. All three had their cloaks on, and Harry was glad he'd listened to Hermione on this one, because mist was currently forming at his every breath, and his ears felt like ice. The sun might be shining, but it gave no heat.
'…shooting stones at us. You just act like this was all normal. Ron, if you have a problem with that charm, why don't you ask me for-Ron! Are you even listening to me?'
Ron's ears were quickly getting redder and redder as he tried to blot out Hermione's lecture on how both of them should be more careful.
Harry threw the stone, not as well as Ron, but it did a couple of satisfying jumps before it went underwater. It soon resurfaced and slowly flew back towards Harry who caught it easily in his hand.
This all seemed normal; the usual daily occurrences for a young wizard attending Hogwarts. However, Harry knew that somewhere out there, someone was plotting his death, and maybe the death of his friends. His parents gone, and Sirius out of the picture, he didn't know if he could manage someone else close to him leaving. Sometimes he just wished…
He wished they could stop bickering for a whole day, for a start. Harry had turned towards Hermione and Ron who was positively fuming. Walking up beside them, he threw the stone to Ron and sat beside Hermione, glancing at her very large book she'd left aside for a moment, her concentration gone.
'Yeah, whatever,' Ron mumbled before aiming the stone at the lake once more.
Hermione's cheeks were pink with the cold and from the shouting. 'Harry, am I really just a bossy- know- it- all?' she asked taking her attention away from Ron, now shifting it to Harry.
A couple of bright coloured autumn leaves glided down from the tree branches above, one getting caught in Hermione's bushy hair. She quickly brushed it off.
Harry didn't know what to tell her. He didn't want to make Hermione angry with him, and at the way she was looking at him, he guessed that she was waiting just for that, her mahogany eyes whispering menacingly 'I dare you to.' Harry coughed uneasily.
'You have your times…' He couldn't suppress a grin as her eyes became round with disbelief. She swapped him playfully on the arm and tried feigning discontent, turning her head away from him. She didn't fool him.
'You look sweet when you're angry,' Harry whispered. Hermione nearly jumped, she hadn't realised he'd etched so close to her, his breath tingling her ear.
And truthfully, she did look sweet. Her hair seemed to have curled even more in the frost air, and the brush of pink on her cheeks made her unmistakably pretty. She'd wrapped herself in more layers than she had really needed to, the thick red and orange Gryffindor scarf wrapped several times around her neck. Unconsciously, Harry's mind was drawn to her lips.
'I'm just worried that…' she was mumbling, very unusual for Hermione. 'After Voldemort's last attempt…'
Harry titled his head slightly, about to…
They were barely able to register Ron saying 'Accio pebble,' before something came shooting towards them from out of the lake.
"Watch out!' he cried in dismay, falling to the ground, avoiding the projectile by an inch.
Harry and Hermione sprung away from each other just in time. The pebble had barely missed them, and had buried itself in the tree trunk with a crisp 'SHUNK'. They both breathed in relief, but their gazes soon turned to a very a brilliant red flushed Ron.
'I'm sorry guys, I didn't mean to… I had it under control. No one's hurt.'
Hermione didn't manage to speak, still in shock, but it would soon be over, and Ron knew what would come next. A whole new lecture, which he'd listen to guiltily, but soon forget after.
'Ron,' Hermione was looking positively angry now, but her eyes softened a little. 'Just let me show you the Boomerang Charm before someone gets hurt.'
While Harry, the flat stone back in his hand, was skimming some more, trying to get to eight jumps; Hermione helped Ron with his charm. The red haired friend was trying his best, for Hermione's sake, but was still failing rather miserably.
'That's better,' Hermione exclaimed on one occasion, but it was soon followed by, 'No, not like that.'
It seemed the Giant Squid was awake, and more large ripples were drawn across the lake's surface. Harry swore he saw something green and slimy produce from the cold waters before disappearing again.
He would glance at Ron and Hermione, and blushed when he found Hermione looking back at him, remembering too well what he'd been about to do before Ron used the Accio charm. And he was glad to see her blush as well, more pink spreading across her cheeks. Harry went back to skimming, his head feeling lighter and his heart at ease.
The next time he threw the round flat pebble, it didn't remerge. Bubbles of air broke at the water's surface, and Harry knew he'd lost the stone for good.
How come someone like the Potter Boy, could still manage to feel happiness? Voldemort pondered this, his fingers, paste white, resting against his temples.
He'd left the Throne Chamber, and now sat at his desk, in his large dark study. The smell of aged parchments and books resided here, and no one, except himself, were aloud to enter it. Nagini was curled around the Dark Lord's wrist, the snake's head cool against his palm.
In front of him, written out on the finest of parchments, were the words:
"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies."
Why and how could Harry Potter have the power to vanquish him? He'd been saved once by love, at the age of one. But again and again he lived, escaping the traps that should have seen him dead.
But he wouldn't live for long, Voldemort would make sure of it.
On Halloween, like those sixteen years ago, something sinister would be in the air.
Firstly, thanks for the reviews. Second, you might be wondering why Ron and Harry don't have any more pebbles, because well, I suppose that around the lake it's mainly grass, mud and earth.
Inserted a moment for Harry, Ron and Hermione, a typical trio moment. It answers Voldemort's question.
It's those kind of happy and simple moments that make Harry want to live (even though Ron and Hermione were a little angry, but nothing's perfect).
I'm surprised how easy it's been to write this, and I'm wondering if some bad writing has managed to slip in.