Fic: Altar of Inexorable Fate
This fic is set in the same universe as The Pilgrim Diaries. Harry Potter, the Condemned One who let Tom Riddle get away has been exiled. Lucius Malfoy is the new Dark Lord. When the WW goes radical and invites the Muggles in on their secret, the fight for survival begins. Impossible alliances form in a desperate battle. Some fight for their lives. Harry fights his own fate.
Altar of Inexorable Fate
Chapter One: The Condemned One
In the dusty streets of a small town somewhere in Scotland, a young man stood, leaning against a lamppost. His posture was casual, eyes shut, mouth smiling. He seemed utterly relaxed.
The people going about their daily life shook their heads at him. Some smiled and waved hello. He opened one eye and waved back, remembering their names without fail. Some came up to talk to him. To these people he would speak of their family, their pets, their problems at the workplace.
The people of the town liked him. He remembered the names of their children and the breed of their dog; he knew about their problems and regularly inquired about them. He was a quiet, unassuming lad, always polite and charming, always helpful.
The young man's name was Harry Potter, although none of the townspeople knew this. He wasn't ordinary, had never been ordinary by any definition of the word. And he wasn't alone.
* * *
Harry turned to his companion.
"They can't see you."
Tom Riddle smiled, cold as a shark and just as predatory.
"Of course. I'm not real." The tone was almost teasing, his level voice never rose, yet Harry flinched.
"I wish you wouldn't say that," Harry whispered softly, lowering his head.
Tom turned to face him, blue eyes amused in cold disregard.
"That won't work. I'm not going anywhere until you can fight me off." Elegant fingers reach out to touch his closed eyelids, mock gently. "When are you going to stop hiding? You can never defeat me."
Soft laughter. Tom's eyes were still dispassionate, but there was a dark hunger in them. He stood back, head tilted slightly, watching as he always did. Harry lifted his head, dark eyelashes fanning up to reveal calm green eyes.
"Maybe I just don't want to." When Tom shook his head, he extended his right hand, smiling serenely. "Maybe I actually like you."
The smile didn't change when the shadow melted away to leave him truly alone for the first time in days.
"It's getting too easy. There's no more fun in winning like that, Tom. Try harder next time."
Somewhere in the corners of his mind, there were last sheds of sanity. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew how everything really was. That he was merely carrying around a figment of his imagination. That he was really just fighting himself. That none of it mattered.
That voice of reason was losing strength. There were times when, staring at the sun setting or rising, that he did not know himself. That uncertainty was dangerous; to himself, because he refused to be off his guard; to others, people he could hurt in his inattention. There was so much to fear, yet he felt fearless. Death could not control him.
Fate will try; fate will fail.
He has always had authority issues.
* * *
He walked along the riverbank, occasionally pausing to throw stones into the water. There was no one around. He sat down after making sure that no one else was around.
He laughed quietly to himself. "Let's make a deal, shall we? I'll stop pretending that you're not there, and you can come out and tell me what you want. I don't like being followed around."
There was no response.
He laid down on the grass, hands spread. The monologue continued.
"Come on, don't be a spoilsport."
Silence. Harry smiled. It was as serene as before, but there was a hint of danger in his eyes.
"Hmm. Should I set that bush on fire? Pity about your nice robes." Soft, teasing tone, as if addressing a friend.
Finally, there was a response.
"I doubt you can, monster."
"How do you know what I can or can't do? After all, I'm one of the most powerful wizards alive."
"You don't even have a wand."
"I don't need it." He snapped his fingers. "Want proof?"
C&C welcome.
Altar of Inexorable Fate
Chapter One: The Condemned One
In the dusty streets of a small town somewhere in Scotland, a young man stood, leaning against a lamppost. His posture was casual, eyes shut, mouth smiling. He seemed utterly relaxed.
The people going about their daily life shook their heads at him. Some smiled and waved hello. He opened one eye and waved back, remembering their names without fail. Some came up to talk to him. To these people he would speak of their family, their pets, their problems at the workplace.
The people of the town liked him. He remembered the names of their children and the breed of their dog; he knew about their problems and regularly inquired about them. He was a quiet, unassuming lad, always polite and charming, always helpful.
The young man's name was Harry Potter, although none of the townspeople knew this. He wasn't ordinary, had never been ordinary by any definition of the word. And he wasn't alone.
* * *
Harry turned to his companion.
"They can't see you."
Tom Riddle smiled, cold as a shark and just as predatory.
"Of course. I'm not real." The tone was almost teasing, his level voice never rose, yet Harry flinched.
"I wish you wouldn't say that," Harry whispered softly, lowering his head.
Tom turned to face him, blue eyes amused in cold disregard.
"That won't work. I'm not going anywhere until you can fight me off." Elegant fingers reach out to touch his closed eyelids, mock gently. "When are you going to stop hiding? You can never defeat me."
Soft laughter. Tom's eyes were still dispassionate, but there was a dark hunger in them. He stood back, head tilted slightly, watching as he always did. Harry lifted his head, dark eyelashes fanning up to reveal calm green eyes.
"Maybe I just don't want to." When Tom shook his head, he extended his right hand, smiling serenely. "Maybe I actually like you."
The smile didn't change when the shadow melted away to leave him truly alone for the first time in days.
"It's getting too easy. There's no more fun in winning like that, Tom. Try harder next time."
Somewhere in the corners of his mind, there were last sheds of sanity. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew how everything really was. That he was merely carrying around a figment of his imagination. That he was really just fighting himself. That none of it mattered.
That voice of reason was losing strength. There were times when, staring at the sun setting or rising, that he did not know himself. That uncertainty was dangerous; to himself, because he refused to be off his guard; to others, people he could hurt in his inattention. There was so much to fear, yet he felt fearless. Death could not control him.
Fate will try; fate will fail.
He has always had authority issues.
* * *
He walked along the riverbank, occasionally pausing to throw stones into the water. There was no one around. He sat down after making sure that no one else was around.
He laughed quietly to himself. "Let's make a deal, shall we? I'll stop pretending that you're not there, and you can come out and tell me what you want. I don't like being followed around."
There was no response.
He laid down on the grass, hands spread. The monologue continued.
"Come on, don't be a spoilsport."
Silence. Harry smiled. It was as serene as before, but there was a hint of danger in his eyes.
"Hmm. Should I set that bush on fire? Pity about your nice robes." Soft, teasing tone, as if addressing a friend.
Finally, there was a response.
"I doubt you can, monster."
"How do you know what I can or can't do? After all, I'm one of the most powerful wizards alive."
"You don't even have a wand."
"I don't need it." He snapped his fingers. "Want proof?"
C&C welcome.