F~R~A~C~T~U~R~E~D: The Prologue
By DraconicalPriest
Rated R: for Rather Disturbing Content both now and in the future.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, a bit of a plot… but nothing else.
Pairings: None as of yet, or for a while. Eventually there may be HP/DM, or incidents and crushes with Snape, Cho Chang, or others.
Click.
Click.
Click.
I step slowly and deliberately through the kitchen of this disgustingly cheerful house, my boot heels clicking softly on the faded yellow linoleum. A slight sneer tugs at the corner of my lips. My task here tonight is almost finished.
The parents didn't offer much of a fight, this time. The father, begging me to spare his wife, his child. Too horrified to cast more than a simple and ineffectual Expelliarmus or two… pitiful really, and rather disappointing. Not what I expected from his reputation, or his irksome ambushes of my followers. I left his corpse not three feet from the front door. Then the mudblood mother ran out from the kitchen, and fell to her knees on the floor, begging me to leave their son alive. "Please, not Harry! Anything, but don't kill Harry!" Her body is still there now, slumped over where she knelt, with blood trickling from her mouth and her green eyes glazed in terror and hate.
Click.
Click.
Ah. There it is… How amusing. Apparently she thought to hide him in one of the kitchen cupboards. Completely futile, of course. Even if I couldn't hear the loathsome brat's terrified panting and whimpering, it has cracked open the door anyway, and I can see its eyes in the gloom of the partly opened cubbyhole. Almost spooky, really, they way they almost glow green. Like a cat. I muse absentmindedly as I step around the pitted wooden table with a bright yellow-checked tablecloth in the middle of the floor. Let's just wrap this up, and get on back to the mansion. A clean sweep, now…
"Come here, little one." I say, and it hangs quietly in the air of the kitchen. "Come out now child, and join your parents." My voice hangs in the air, curling and weaving like smoke in the wind. It beckons and hypnotizes the small child like a snake swaying before a hapless mouse. Slowly, a tiny hand reaches out of the dark cupboard, and pushes the cabinet door all the way open. It grips the handle, holding on for support as the tiny dark-haired boy drags himself upward, to stand tremblingly before me.
I smirk at the child and aim my wand. Too easy… simply pitiful my thoughts murmur. "You'll never even know why. None of them will." It amuses me, and my smirk widens.
I look straight into those confused and terrified green eyes, and whisper it. "Avada Kedavra."
.
.
.
The green light speeds toward the child, and then seems to slow as it approaches him. A bright white light suddenly surrounds the boy in the shape of a globe, and the curse strikes this instead of his body. There is absolute silence for a split second that stretches into an eternity.
The clear white globe seems to absorb the curse, pulsing a bright emerald. Green eyes flash unbearably bright, and a ragged cut appears on the child's forehead where the curse just struck. It is like a tear on the surface, echoing the deeper fractures below. The clear, unformed orb of the baby's soul cracks, then shatters into a hundred pieces. Like crystal shards, they fly through the air. At least half immediately go dark, the remaining are united in an unearthly wail of agony, echoing through the destroyed house.
Then the shards speed back together and reform a globe. This orb is fractured and imperfect now though, and then again it pulses green. A haze gathers around the child, as if the curse simply fell into him before, and is now being ejected again. The green light rebounds and streaks back toward the dark lord. His eyes have widened, but he has no time for anything else before it hits and sends his twisted soul screaming into the dark. The dark lord's skin swiftly shrivels up and sinks in toward his bones. The skeletal figure remains standing for a gruesome, soulless instant, then silently crumbles into dust on the floor.
The orb of light surrounding the youngling flickers and then vanishes back into him. A tiny breeze creeps into the room, and stirs the pile of black dust lying beside the cheerfully decorated table. The boy blinks once, then twice, then crumples and falls against the cabinets.
Nothing remains now but a wailing child and his dead parents in the dust and rubble of a destroyed home.
A/N: Don't worry, it won't all be this dark. This is a tale of a split personality, a condition known as Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD), and some of those personalities aren't in the least dark. The first chapter should be up within a day or two, disregarding acts of Eris, as I've already got at least the first 6 chapters outlined and the personalities mapped. 'Till then, be at peace, and please review 'cause it makes me feel better.