Chapter 1
Standing over a balcony, Draco looked pensively upon lands that would be once his when his father passed on.
But what did it matter?
The people of the Slytherin hated the Malfoy family. They hated their rule. The land was infertile and food was scarce. Hunger and disease spread through the land like wildfire, destroying and killing everyone in their path.
In ancient times, the rulers of the four lands lived together peacefully. The rulers, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw each conquered a piece of land that they named after themselves. The people under them had different talents. The people of Gryffindor were brave and courageous. The people of Ravenclaw were intelligent and smart. The people of Hufflepuff were loyal and hardworking. The people of Slytherin were sly and cunning. Each had a treasure, forged with powerful magic. Godric Gryffindor had a sword, Helga Hufflepuff a cup, Rowena Ravenclaw a diadem and Salazar Slytherin a locket.
However, after years of peace, Slytherin grew greedy and he sought to find the treasures of the other rulers. Salazar Slytherin waged war against the other rulers. His kingdom was the most powerful, but he was heavily outnumbered. After his defeat, the other rulers banished him and turned his kingdom into a wasteland. They removed his land from all maps hoping his descendants would be completely lost and forgotten. But some lived. And Draco was the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin.
Draco sighed resignedly. Very few in Slytherin still had magic. He was one of the lucky ones, but their magic was weak, and they usually conserved it for severe cases. Draco wanted to find a way to save his people, to save his kingdom.
Draco turned around and looked at his tableside. There lay a note left by a stranger. He reread it for the umpteenth time: "If you want to save your kingdom, meet me in the Chamber of Secrets".
The Chamber of Secrets was a secret location, which was said to be the first thing Salazar Slytherin built. Draco swallowed and made his decision. He would meet the man.
That night, Draco walked through the streets. People looked at him, but didn't bow, instead their faces turned to anger. He quickened his pace, his father could not know about this. He pushed open the heavy metal doors of the Chamber and immediately saw a hooded figure.
'I have come at your request,' Draco said, tilting his head towards the figure.
The figure replied at a raspy voice, 'No, my prince. I am your servant. I want to show you a way to regain your glory. All I ask is to be your advisor.' With that, the figure swirled around and lifted his hood slowly.
Draco gasped and his eyes widened.
The figure's face was pure, pale white, with glowing red eyes and snake-like slits for nostrils.
'What…What's wrong with your face? An… And what's your name?'
'My prince, my face has changed as I traversed across the lands, learning magic from all the four. I have done magic that has changed my mortal body.' The figure said. 'This body of mine is new. As for my name . . . my name is Voldemort.'
'Very well; show me,' Draco said.
The man called Voldemort raised his hands and four images swirled into the air.
'The four treasures,' Draco breathed, looking up in amazement. 'You're a wizard, with normal magic?'
Voldemort nodded and replied, 'Some would say more than just normal. The only way to save Slytherin is to conquer the other lands. And the only way to do that is to find the four treasures the rulers.'
Hermione and her two best friends, Prince Harry and Prince Ron, stood together in a ballroom in the castle of Ravenclaw. Today was the thirteenth century of peace between the three lands. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had always lived together peacefully. Today was also a day to celebrate Harry's engagement to Ginny, Ron's younger sister. Hermione smiled; she was lucky to be able to live in such joy.
Hermione's father, Wendell Granger, the king, cleared his throat and the room fell silent.
'Thank you,' he boomed. 'Today, we celebrate peace between our lands. Peace that has existed for centuries. Peace built upon our bonds. Today we also celebrate Harry, prince of Gryffindor's engagement to Ginny, princess of Hufflepuff!'
A chorus of claps rang through the air. Her father raised his hand and fireworks erupted from his wand. The others in the party followed. Hermione looked at Harry and Ginny. However difficult it was to admit, Hermione was envious. She had never been approached by a boy to be more than just friends, and she wished that Ron would. Ever since she met Ron, she had a crush on him, but he was oblivious to that fact and only treated her as a friend.
'Hey, Hermione, wanna dance?'
Hermione turned around to see Ron. Ron was dressed in the royal colours of Hufflepuff, yellow and black. Hermione, blushed and nodded. Ron led her to the dance floor, and they started to dance. She looked into his blue eyes and smiled. Joy filled her heart as she though, that day had to be the best day of her life.
A few hours later, after the guests had left the hall and back to their kingdoms, Hermione sat in one of the palace's gardens. Different magical plants dotted the garden, each with special properties. Their smells combined into a wonderful aroma, giving Hermione a sense of deep relaxation. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. This was the life she enjoyed, appreciated. Breathing deeply, she relished it: the air was refreshing, and the night was silent.
Her brows furrowed for a second—then, her head shot up.
Too silent.
Boom!
Immediately, alarms were set off from the loud blast. She stumbled up, eyes stretching wide. Her heart thundered in her ears and she looked around wildly, feeling the ground rumble beneath her feet. Her bushy hair fell to her shoulders and she struggled to keep her balance, hearing scuffling sounds behind her. Whirling around, she whipped her wand out, only to see a wizard hurrying over to her.
'Your Highness, we must get you safety at once,' the guard said, veins popping on his forehead. She nodded, her gaze going glassy as she kept her wand again, then let herself be led away.
Hermione sped past the streets, seeing guards duelling with cloaked figures on the rooftops in the corner of her eyes, who seemed to be able to dance around all of the guard's attacks. A huge host charged the palace's guards, throwing curses left and right. Figures swept through clusters of defenders, trying to organise themselves. The sounds of explosions and screams filled the air, making Hermione's face drain of its colour. This had never happened before. Sure, they had seen fighting, but not on this scale . . .
The palace hasn't ever been attacked before! Hermione thought frantically as they hurried through secret passages and into the grand hall, where they were partying jubilantly just a few hours ago, oblivious to what was going to happen.
'Come, Hermione, quick, and wands in the air!' her father shouted to her. Her father, mother and she, along with a few guards, raced through secret passages leading out of the palace and to the docks.
Whoosh!
A jet of black fire narrowly missed their group and hit one of the boats. At once, the boat exploded, precious cargo flying off of it and landing with a thunk nearby. Hermione ignored them even though they were close enough for her to kick it.
Black fire? Hermione thought, and her heart sank in her chest. That was dark magic. Very few delved into the arts of dark magic for fear of corruption, and those who did had to learn to control it. Not only that, to study the dark arts, one had to apply for a permit. So many had betrayed the royals? That was impossible . . .
Then she saw him.
What she assumed to be the leader was standing on a mast of a ship. The ship's sail had the crest of a giant emerald-green snake and the leader himself had platinum blond hair, piercing grey eyes and looked to be about her age: sixteen. In normal circumstances, Hermione would have thought him quite handsome, but right then, she was unable to think about anything other than how he was blasting out piercing beams of green. One hit the guard next to her and he crumpled; she saw the light disappear from his eyes, faster than a snap. The Killing Curse.
'Hermione quick! Get on!' her father shouted to her as her mother slashed her wand in mid-air, erecting a protective shield around their ship. Nearby, other ships had already left the docks as other royals were ushered to safety.
'What of our people?' Hermione gasped in a worried tone.
'We have announced for them to evacuate. The military will accompany them.' her father assured her.
Hermione nodded, taking refuge in this tiny piece of comfort. Tears filled up her eyes as she looked back upon Ravenclaw. The land was burning from at least 3 dozen locations. Black fires left a trailing column of smoke in their wake, blending into the inky background of the night, leaving Ravenclaw in darkness and gloom.
'Protego Maxima!' her father called, swinging his wand as he turned back from her, a weary smile plastered on his sweaty, pale cheeks. 'Get on board!' He gestured towards the plank heading to the boat, subtly trying to tell her to get inside. 'Everything is alright, sweetheart. Go inside, I have this handled.'
'What's happening?' Hermione pressed, her brows furrowing.
'Nothing you need to worry yourself over, dear,' Wendell reassured her as guards flooded onto the boat, racing down creaking wooden staircases. The door remained swung open, and there was a lurch as the boat begun to move, creaking past the others. The protective shield around the boat fizzled for a moment, white sparks flying at its edges from the spells being hurled at it on the outside, and Hermione wondered how long it would take before they broke.
'Please, honey,' her father urged.
Hermione felt her eyelids growing heavier. It had been a long day. The fight had drained all the energy from her, and the adrenaline that had pulsed through her veins to keep her going had long dissipated, leaving nothing except exhaustion. She opened her mouth, forming an 'okay', when –
Wendell's eyes widened. His hand shot up subtly, a small jab, and Hermione felt like icy goo was oozing all over her body, sprouting from her head. She stumbled back, the floorboards of the boat creaking under her weight.
The Disillusionment Charm.
Her mother immediately pulled Hermione away, and up onto the boat.
Her father turned, facing away from her. She was being pushed up the gangplank. Her mother had worry etched all over her face as she snuck glances back at Wendell.
'You . . .' Wendell murmured; his voice clouded with rage. Hermione followed his gaze, looking up to the front on the boat, only to see a dark figure perched on top of it like a black crow.
'Me,' replied a husky, deep voice. The figure on the mast had spoken. Hermione tensed up. This was the leader that she had seen just moments earlier.
Wendell's wand lurched forward, and a bright beam of light erupted from its tip without a single incantation, but the figure simply sidestepped it, swivelling on the mast, flying through the air as he raised his own wand.
'Expelliarmus!'
A cracking sound filled the air as the wand in Hermione's father's hand slipped out of his grasp, skidding across the rickety floor of the boat until it tipped over the curb and fell into the murky depths of the ocean below. Wendell cursed under his breath, but stood his ground, looking directly at the attacker, who was standing before him, his face still half obscured by shadows cast by the iridescent moon.
Dad! Hermione stifled a cry of fear and kept her eyes trained on the attacker.
'Good evening,' he continued. 'Wonderful weather, isn't it?'
'What do you want?' Hermione's father growled through gritted teeth, his gaze fixed on the attacker. 'The treasures are not here. We do not have what you seek.'
'I know,' the figure drawled, a tinge of annoyance in his voice.
'I supposed you're frustrated that you've wasted assets and resources on us, all for nought,' Wendell said. 'I'm glad to hear it.'
'You don't understand,' the figure snapped. 'I assume your great advisor, Dumbledore hasn't told you the full prophecy?'
'And what would that be?'
The attacker did not reply.
Hermione gulped as the boat met with a large wave, shuddering visibly. Her mother was pushed on top of her, and both struggled to get up.
'Stay here, Hermione, I must aid your father,' Her mother, Michelle murmured.
Water droplets sprayed onto the Hermione as the boat slammed against the wave. Wendell didn't move, and neither did the figure. They only stared at each other, like a silent battle of wills.
Until, finally, Wendell inclined his head towards the boat, at Hermione's direction. His eyes searched her location until they landed on her knowingly, and chills erupted on her skin. How could he know where she was? Was she not under his very own Disillusionment Charm?
The attacker mistook Wendell's gaze, assuming he was trying to find an escape path. He inclined his head to the door of the cabin. 'You can't escape. The second you lunge for that plank, you'll be dead on the floor. If you scream, I'll kill you before the sound even comes out of your mouth. The rain,' he gestured to the sudden downpour above them 'masks the sounds up here anyway. Your guards downstairs will hear nothing. I've got you trapped.' The attack obviously did not notice her mother under the disillusionment charm heading directly for him.
'Indeed, I am,' Wendell said coolly. He straightened, standing before the ship's railing, more composed than he should have been, almost as if he was exchanging pleasantries with the assailant.
'What's wrong with you?' the figure asked suddenly, and this time Hermione could clearly see the annoyance in his tone. 'Aren't you afraid? Old man, don't you realize that you're going to die tonight?'
'I know. I just have the courage to accept that death is not as you make it out to be.' Hermione's father said simply. He spread his arms. 'Do it, then.'
What is he . . .?
Hermione grunted as she shifted her position but the boat met with another wave, sending water rushing over her. She rolled downwards, her back hitting the southern railing of the ship, and she lost sight of her father. No! She desperately clung on, grabbing the railing as rain attacked her body, following with a ground-shaking thunderclap.
Her eyes searched her surroundings, blurred by the water, and then they found the two figures amidst the darkness. One raised his wand
'Fine!' the attacker snapped, infuriated.
Hermione's father's head turned just an inch, and a word slipped out of his lips. 'Hermione'
'Avada Kedavra!'
A jet of bright green light shot out of the attacker's wand the attacker's wand and hit Wendell squarely in the chest. Wendell's eyes widened as they found Hermione's, and she could see them pale as the light sapped from them. He was blasted into the air, over the curb, over the waves, over everything: for a split second he seemed to hang suspended amidst the cascading rain, and then he fell slowly backwards, like a giant rag doll, over the tidal wave and out of sight.
A scream of horror burst out from Hermione's mouth and she scrambled up, emotions clawing at her and filling up her chest, as if they were screaming spirits demanded to be let out. Just at that moment, her mother appeared and shot a beam of bright blue light, forcing the attack to conjure a glowing silver shield. A deep sound revebrated from there, and that made the hair on her hands stand on end.
'CRUCIO!' The attacker screamed. The curse whizzed from his wand, and her mother vanished, reappearing a distance away. Thunder struck the sky again, illuminating him, and Hermione caught a glimpse of the figure's true features: pale, blonde-haired, platinum-eyed . . .
'Periculem,' her mother said, and glowing red sparks fizzed from her wand. Immediately, guards dressed in blue and bronze armour sped towards the duo. Michelle ducked around the guards and sped up the gangplank. A curse blasted the plank apart, but Hermione waved her wand and her mother was lifted back up onto the boat.
The figure whipped his head towards the guards and started to engage with them. She could see he was clearly skilled, but he was outnumbered. He slashed his wand upwards and flew up, signalling to something in the distance. Amongst the waves, she could see another ship: the one with the giant, green snake.
'NO! STOP!' Hermione managed to wrench her lips apart, pointing her wand at him once more, and their eyes met for a brief second before he turned and disappeared into the night, almost as if he had never been there at all. As rain poured on her, her arm fell to her sides limply as she stared at the now empty air.
Dad . . .
Rage bubbled in Hermione, boiling and burning like an inferno. Her brain registered every single feature of the hooded figure, making sure she would recognize him the next time she ever laid her eyes on him.
She would get her revenge. She was sure of it.