Once again, Tis been awhile...
Well I went over old entries and deleted like mad. Edited "Eternal", my goodness it was really bad before... And, as usual, I've nothing of interest to say. So I'll just go ahead and post what I'm working on now.. XP Yes, it makes little sense at this point, but it will... eventually
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money of this work of fan fiction.
The Power in Names: Prologue
"Ancient muggle cultures believed that a name holds power over a body. For muggles, such a concept is untrue. But for wizards... "
--Excerpted from the book, "Muggle Mythology: Fact or fiction?" By Rolan S. Nomland
Voldemort stalked the grounds outside of the Malfoy Manor, having wanted the solitude that Lucius and his family would allow him; no constant pestering over who to kill next or why he wasn't going on raids anymore recently. Voldemort entered the wooded area behind the establishment and headed down a path he knew well by this point. He'd been coming here far more often than he would have liked to admit.
He picked his way through the trees, brush and occasional rocky precipice with ease for some time, roughly fourty minutes, until he came her heard the by now familiar sounds of rushing water. The trees finally became more sparse and gave way to a dirt path next to a shallow -no more than shoulder deep at points- yet somewhat wide river. The path turned rocky closer to the river, and the river was full of a wide variety of large to small stones. There was a small sort of "island" in the middle of the river, with a couple small trees poking out of it. It was no bigger than half a car in length, but it was just enough to comfortably fit one person on, perhaps two if they were squeezed tightly together.
Voldemort padded across the stones and immediately sat down on 'his' island, uncaring if he soiled his clothes in the process. He knew this was unlike him; Everything about this was... enjoying nature around him, sitting in the dirt, preferring solitude to his Death eaters... cancelling raids. Something was wrong with him, very wrong with him.
It had all started when he possessed Harry's body in the atrium outside of the department of mysteries prior to this summer. Had Potter done something to him? No, he couldn't have... he dismissed that idea quickly. Potter didn't have that kind of power, and he would have noticed if Potter did something to him. That boy's mind had been laid bare to him - there was no place for Harry to have hid anything from him, let alone pull something on him.
That brought another matter to mind... some of the things he'd seen in Potter's consciousness. Memories of those horrid muggle relatives mistreating him. Nothing too terrible, but unfortunately it seemed to be bothering him nonetheless. Really. Granted, they did neglect, occasionally starve, and verbally abuse the boy - which was inexcuseable in the wizarding world, no matter how small the infraction - but still, it was Potter. It didn't even seem to bother the boy himself that much, except that he didn't like being there. It's not like it had some major impact on the brat's life.
But he couldn't seem to get the idea of... - what, rescueing? -The boy from that place out of his head. He scoffed. He wasn't going to, of course... but still, it was very worrisome that the thought occupied his mind so much. He was not himself, and he intended to find out why. Perhaps kidna- rescuing the boy from there wouldn't be such a bad idea after all; It was the logical place to start looking for answers, after all, that boy was where everything began to go wrong - starting with the failed Avada curse.
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Terrible so far... Hm, maybe it'll get better. Needs beta XP
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money of this work of fan fiction.
The Power in Names: Prologue
"Ancient muggle cultures believed that a name holds power over a body. For muggles, such a concept is untrue. But for wizards... "
--Excerpted from the book, "Muggle Mythology: Fact or fiction?" By Rolan S. Nomland
Voldemort stalked the grounds outside of the Malfoy Manor, having wanted the solitude that Lucius and his family would allow him; no constant pestering over who to kill next or why he wasn't going on raids anymore recently. Voldemort entered the wooded area behind the establishment and headed down a path he knew well by this point. He'd been coming here far more often than he would have liked to admit.
He picked his way through the trees, brush and occasional rocky precipice with ease for some time, roughly fourty minutes, until he came her heard the by now familiar sounds of rushing water. The trees finally became more sparse and gave way to a dirt path next to a shallow -no more than shoulder deep at points- yet somewhat wide river. The path turned rocky closer to the river, and the river was full of a wide variety of large to small stones. There was a small sort of "island" in the middle of the river, with a couple small trees poking out of it. It was no bigger than half a car in length, but it was just enough to comfortably fit one person on, perhaps two if they were squeezed tightly together.
Voldemort padded across the stones and immediately sat down on 'his' island, uncaring if he soiled his clothes in the process. He knew this was unlike him; Everything about this was... enjoying nature around him, sitting in the dirt, preferring solitude to his Death eaters... cancelling raids. Something was wrong with him, very wrong with him.
It had all started when he possessed Harry's body in the atrium outside of the department of mysteries prior to this summer. Had Potter done something to him? No, he couldn't have... he dismissed that idea quickly. Potter didn't have that kind of power, and he would have noticed if Potter did something to him. That boy's mind had been laid bare to him - there was no place for Harry to have hid anything from him, let alone pull something on him.
That brought another matter to mind... some of the things he'd seen in Potter's consciousness. Memories of those horrid muggle relatives mistreating him. Nothing too terrible, but unfortunately it seemed to be bothering him nonetheless. Really. Granted, they did neglect, occasionally starve, and verbally abuse the boy - which was inexcuseable in the wizarding world, no matter how small the infraction - but still, it was Potter. It didn't even seem to bother the boy himself that much, except that he didn't like being there. It's not like it had some major impact on the brat's life.
But he couldn't seem to get the idea of... - what, rescueing? -The boy from that place out of his head. He scoffed. He wasn't going to, of course... but still, it was very worrisome that the thought occupied his mind so much. He was not himself, and he intended to find out why. Perhaps kidna- rescuing the boy from there wouldn't be such a bad idea after all; It was the logical place to start looking for answers, after all, that boy was where everything began to go wrong - starting with the failed Avada curse.
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Terrible so far... Hm, maybe it'll get better. Needs beta XP