Harry Potter and the Orb of Power

    Harry Potter and the

Orb of Power    

            Chapter 1: The Seer

    "Where is he, Wormtail?"

    "At the Muggles' house, My Lord."

    "When will he be sent to the Weasley's?"

    "He will not my Lord...Dumbledore has arranged for him to stay at the Muggles' home, for fear that we will attack him directly."

    "Dumbledore must think he's terribly clever. We'll let him think he's one step ahead of us. Unfortunately for him, I planned on taking a different course to obtain Harry. Wormtail, fetch the seer. She will be most helpful in the coming year."

    "Yes, My Lord." The wizard called Wormtail disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving the wizard called Voldemort alone. He stood on a cliff, a rock formation jutting out over the ocean. The waves crashed angrily against the stony surface, spending ocean spray into the sky, a fountain of water that recoiled back into the ocean before the onslaught of another wave. The dark sky was empty, an infinite black hole that seemed to suck up all the light from the stars. The moon was barely visible through the dark, stormy clouds. Voldemort took no notice of his atmosphere however, and peered over the ocean with his slanted red eyes. His thoughts were elsewhere. He thought about the Boy that Lived, Harry Potter. He closed his eyes, and with his mind spoke out to him.

    "Harry....." There was no response. "I know where you are, Harry. You cannot hide." Again, no response. Voldemort only half expected an answer from his nemesis; since the duel between the two, Voldemort became more hesitant when it came to matching powers against the now fifteen year old wizard. That duel, which Harry narrowly escaped from, was the second time Voldemort underestimated the young wizard. The first was when he lost his powers, back on that Halloween night when Voldemort ruthlessly slaughtered the Potters. There would not be a third. Voldemort had been trying to discover any other possible links between the two, except for the main link. The one that has caused Voldemort the most trouble. The reason for this all. Voldemort smirked, his snake-like face distorted in such a way that suggested he never smiled, or laughed. "I will have you yet, Harry. Do not worry." Voldemort began thinking about his plan, but the arrival of two people arrested his planning. He turned to face both of the new comers.

    "I have the Seer, my Lord."

    "Very good." Voldemort looked at the Seer. The woman was hunched over, covered in blood red robes that looked filthy. Her fingernails were long, discolored, and were sharp enough to be deadly weapons. She staggered forward, dragging her right foot as she approached Voldemort.

    "Well...the Dark Lord finally returned. I never would have believed it," the Seer said in a screeching voice. She took out her wand, and a large cauldron appeared.

    "Useful as always, Malagar. I should make you one of my servants," Voldemort said in his icy cold voice.

    "We had an agreement, Voldemort. I am not a Death Eater, nor shall I be." Wormtail flinched at Malagar's apparent insolence, and tried to atone for the impudence of Malagar's response.

    "She is tired my Lord, do...do not hurt her. She is a valuable ally." Voldemort looked at Wormtail in an expression of contempt. He withdrew his wand in a flash and aimed at Wormtail.

    "Crucio!" Voldemort bellowed in his icy voice, and Wormtail's screams of pain filled the night. Malagar looked on in a sadistic bemusement. The curse ended, and Wormtail shakily stood up, his body filled with pain. "You would be wise, Wormtail, to never order me. I am your master, remember that, you sniveling traitor. I will not harm Malagar. She has been an interesting ally, and will prove useful in the coming year. Very well, Seer, let's see if your powers of sight will help us once again." Malagar, with various waves of her wand, inserted ingredients in the cauldron. Using a jar of seawater collected by Wormtail, she filled the cauldron to the brim. Voldemort peered into the cauldron and saw entrails and eyeballs, fingers and flesh, all floating around in a bloody liquid so disgusting that Wormtail looked away, paler than usual. Voldemort smiled again, a disturbing smile.

    "No one is as good at potions as you, Malagar. Especially ones of this sort."

    "Of course, but my true gift is the Sight. I only use potions if they concern the future." She pointed her wand, and shouted, "Incendio", lighting a fire under the cauldron. The contents bubbled, sending into the air a disgustingly putrid odor. With a quick incantation, Voldemort, Malagar, and Wormtail numbed their noses to the sense of smell to protect themselves from the poisonous fumes. Suddenly, the contents in the cauldron flashed and turned green, and then clear. The three dark wizards looked into the bowl. Voldemort and Wormtail could see nothing but liquid, but visions appeared to Malagar. She absorbed the information, remaining silent as each revelation appeared before her eyes. Voldemort, waiting for the process to be over, looked back over the ocean again, his thoughts wandering back to Harry Potter. He began to wonder if he would ever be able to kill the boy. He couldn't duel with the boy, the phoenix cores made sure of that. And although he could touch the boy, he wouldn't find it easy to creep up and strangle him. He was too well protected. He would have to draw Potter out from his safety, like last year at the Triwizard Tournament, but the process was long and tedious and he could not afford to waste time on a plan that might not work. He had to act quickly to secure his immense powers once again and grow to a new level of power. He shook himself, laughed inwardly at the realization that he was worried about an insignificant fifteen year old wizard who was still at school. His plan would work. It will work.

    "Ah." Malagar was done with the reading, and her hands flew up to her temples to ease the immense pain she was feeling.

    "What is it?" Voldemort asked impatiently. He had no time to waste.

    "You have trials ahead, Voldemort," Malagar whispered. Wormtail's eyes flew open in anxiety. Voldemort just looked at Malagar with expectation. She returned the gaze, and added meaningfully, "They will be the source of your trials." Wormtail looked blankly at the Seer, unable to comprehend the importance of her statement. Voldemort, however, understood completely, and hissed in anger.

    "Still they plague me. Even in death they would be a nuisance. It does not matter. We can dispose of them." Malagar nodded, and continued the reading.

    "A traitor. There is a traitor in our midst, among those who pledged their lives to the Dark Lord," Malagar said. Voldemort shifted his gaze quickly at Wormtail.

    "It...it is not I, my Lord."

    "You know who it is, Wormtail."    

    "I do?"

    "Dispose of him. This instant." Wormtail lingered however, confused by the order.

    "How shall I do it, my Lord? He is so well protected. His status and role in the wizarding world grant him a large amount of allies." Voldemort lifted his wand again, and pointed it at Wormtail.

    "Need I give you more persuasion Wormtail? I can think of a few methods of persuasion." Wormtail shook his head in fright, and then Apparated away.

    "He is dangerous, Voldemort."

    "The traitor? He must be, if he wishes to cross the Dark Lord." Malagar said nothing in reply, and continued on with the reading.

    "The creatures you require will be easily found. The first will pose no problem, but the second will be much harder. Time is not on your side with that case."

    "Ah, I knew that already, Malagar. We'll also need to disguise the creature, so that no one will recognize it as what it really is."

    "Agreed. The first creature will be no problem, but you must be careful. It's fragile state will make the final preparations most difficult."

    "Indeed." Most of the plan was fragile, a delicate balance of coincidence and planned action. Everything must be perfect. His final strike will be swift and crushing. He must not fail.

    "The rest is a confused jumble. The object you require is heavily defended. I believe that it will give you immortality, and immeasurable power. "    "Which is the reason I seek it, Malagar."

    "Be careful. It is a double edged sword."

    "I understand the risks. If all goes to plan, it will not be a problem."

    "If Potter gets a hold of it..."

    "He will not. He has no knowledge of its existence, nor does Dumbledore. Dumbledore never kept up with the dark arts enough."

    "Very well. And the final part of the reading. A grave error has been, or will be, made."

    "By whom?"

    "By you."

    "I? In which aspect of my plan?"

    "I cannot determine. I cannot place its position in the timeline, nor its importance. However, you may pay dearly for a rash judgement."

    "I must know what the mistake is."

    "It is not clear. However, it may not be as negative as you believe. We will have to be patient."

    "Very well. But I must insist on the importance of this revelation. You must discover the root of this error, and how deeply it goes."

    "Yes, my Lord." She waved her wand and the cauldron disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Thunder boomed in the distance, and lightening slashed the sky far off in the distance.

    "An omen, to be sure," Malagar said grimly.

    "A portent of evil, most likely." Voldemort stared across the ocean once more reflecting on the boy who lived. He was worried about the mistake he had made, or will make. Was it killing the boy's parents? Voldemort didn't think so. Harry's birth was too important for Voldemort to overlook. Perhaps it was the death of that boy last year? An unfortunate incident that he had to waste his breath on such an insignificant boy. Harry perhaps will try to avenge his death. Voldemort didn't now the boy's name, nor did he care. It was his own fault for touching the Triwizard Cup in the first place. Voldemort laughed inwardly, for he never reflected on killing someone before. Malagar's prediction had rattled him, for he knew that in such a weak state he could not afford to make mistakes. He watched as the storm approached, the thunder booming even louder, the lightning even fiercer, and he knew that a storm was indeed coming. A storm that would tear apart the fabric of the wizarding world. His time had come, his time to achieve immortality and reign like a god over the planet. He looked at Malagar again. She too stared at the ocean, the tumultuous waves rising and crashing against the cliff.

    "When will we begin?" Malagar asked.

    "As soon as we receive the news."

    "The news?" Malagar asked, troubled by the fact that Voldemort was keeping something from her that she should have seen.

    "You will see, Malagar. You will see. For if I am correct, I'm afraid that Wormtail has not changed his ways."

    "You mean he is the traitor?"

    "No, Malagar. For a witch with the Sight, you certainly don't see. Wormtail is not strong enough to rebel against my power. He will not be able to kill the traitor. He is too cunning for Wormtail. However, Wormtail will scare him into hiding, which will be most useful."

    "I'm afraid I do not understand, Voldemort. Perhaps you should...enlighten those of us who do not possess your great powers," Malagar said, each word dripping with sarcasm.

    "Patience, my dear, patience. We will hear the news soon enough." Voldemort stared at the storm again. The wind lashed at he and the Seer severely as the storm approached. He felt the power of the storm, the energy required to fire bolts of lightning and churn the sea into a dangerous force of nature. Voldemort understood the power that comes from nature, the root of all magic in the world. He could feel the air churning around him, a tense atmosphere that filled Voldemort with a strange delight that he never felt before. He felt the wind pass through his hair, whipping his robes, and felt untouchable. Malagar magicked an invisible wall between the wind and Voldemort and her. He looked at her, not smiling.

    "I didn't ask you to do that," Voldemort said grimly.

    "Nor did you have to. You understand I am free of your power."

    "Yes, I understand," Voldemort said with a twisted smile on his face. That same smile that disturbed Wormtail that same night. Voldemort felt different now that he was back in his body. He shuddered to think about the days when he remained a leech, a vampire that lived off of rats and small animals until Wormtail rescued him. Those were dark days indeed. But those days had passed, he was at the edge of immortality. Suddenly, he heard feet on the dirt, approaching the campsite. He took his wand again, and turned from the storm. Malagar too had taken out her wand. She shrank back besides Voldemort, feeling safer beside the dark wizard. Suddenly, from nowhere, a small rat with a silver paw ran out, squeaking in fright as it fled from an invisible enemy. Voldemort waited, and saw a wolf chasing after the rat, snarling as he bared down on the rat. Malagar began to issue a spell, but Voldemort stopped her.

    "Let him run, for a bit. To punish him for his failure."

    "Failure?" Malagar watched as the wolf chased the rat, finally bearing down on its prey and stepping on its tail. The wolf opened his jaws, and then a bellow filled the night.

    "Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled, killing the wolf instantly in a rush of brilliant green light and a rushing sound. Wormtail then transformed back into his human form.

    "Thank you, my Lord," Wormtail said, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. Voldemort looked down on him with disgust.

    "Did you complete the task?" Voldemort said with such ferocity that proved that he knew the reply.

    "No, my Lord. He was too strong for me."

    "As expected. Perhaps you should go back to Hogwarts and train with all the first year babies. I expect they'd outduel you any day."

    "My Lord," Wormtail began to say, but Voldemort raised his wand.

    "Stop your sniveling, Wormtail. The meeting must begin." He grabbed Wormtail's normal arm and pressed his index finger against the dark mark that was branded in Wormtail's arm. Suddenly the spot became dark black.

    "So it begins," Voldemort said, cracking another smile. Wormtail flinched. Suddenly, dark wizards began to Apparate all around them. Their numbers were larger than the last time they met, when Harry and Voldemort dueled to a stalemate. Wormtail saw many old Death Eaters, but also so new ones, younger members that looked like they were just initiated. These squirmed in fear, completely frightened by the fact that they were now under the service of the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They didn't understand what got into them.

"Greetings, my servants. We will begin at once, there should be no cause for delay." The Death Eaters circled around Voldemort and Malagar, intent on listening. One stepped forward. Lucius Malfoy.

    "My Lord, your humble servants are at your command once again," Lucius said in his cold drawl.

    "Very well, Lucius. As you all know, our plans of last year were only half completed. Yes, I have returned to the world, but Harry Potter still exists. He is breathing, a problem that we must deal with immediately. You do not appreciate his importance, but you will, in the end. You will see the genius of Lord Voldemort, and his power." The Death Eaters nodded, afraid that inaction would lead to death. "Of course, he is not the only concern. The time for the forces of evil to lead the way is upon us." Voldemort cackled evilly, a shrill cold laugh that haunted the night. The rain began to pour on the Death Eaters, lightening struck closely, followed immediately by a crash of thunder so loud that the Death Eaters recoiled at its sound.

    "An omen indeed," Malagar whispered inaudibly as she formed a barrier between her and the weather.

    "See how nature rejoices in my arrival! Its thunder is a messenger that declares my arrival!" The waves crashed deafeningly against the cliffs, almost trying to beat the cliff into collapsing into the water. Dumbledore looked at the Death Eaters in a sickeningly delighted way. "War has begun, my servants, and you will help me win! There will be casualties, to be sure, but be satisfied in knowing that you served Lord Voldemort, and that your death will buy me my chance to immortality. You will be remembered for your sacrifice at the altar of Lord Voldemort." Malagar shifted uncomfortably. She felt an odd feeling of foreboding, of something rather significant about to happen. She peered intently at Voldemort. Suddenly, a vision ripped through her mind, a picture so clear. She screamed in pain, but her scream was inaudible over the crashing waves and thunder. She stared at Voldemort, and felt an immeasurable burden in her mind.

    "He will know," she whispered inaudibly. She stared at the Death Eaters, who were clearly energized by Voldemort's speech. They clapped, howled, and voiced their support for the Dark Lord. Lightening struck a tree nearby, setting it aflame. The flash of light threw Voldemort's face in relief, and the Death Eaters stopped cheering. Voldemort cackled, enjoying this moment. He thought they realized how powerful Voldemort was about to become. He saw their expressions, and thought otherwise. Something is disturbing them.

    "Where is your support now? Must I remind you of my power?" He gripped his wands. Lucius hand went to his mouth, to stifle any sound that he might make. Wormtail gazed at Voldemort in wonder and in fear, unable to voice his thought on what had happened. Malagar raised her head. The thunder subsided for a moment, enough to give Voldemort a meaningful look.

    "My Lord..." she said, and magicked the cauldron back. Filling it with more water and uttering an incantation, she made a water mirror in the cauldron. "Look into the cauldron...it happened when the lightning last struck." Voldemort strode up to the cauldron. He looked inside, and his face distorted in such a look of shock and surprise that he uttered a scream so inhuman that the Death Eaters blocked their ears. Voldemort reached up to his forehead and felt a lightning scar on his forehead, an exact replica of the scar that Harry Potter bore on his forehead.