Harry Potter and the Covenant of the Triangle
Chapter 1:The Forest
The forest was dense with dead trees. The barren, knarled and twisted limbs stretched towards the dark sky as if right before death, they had reached out to the heavens above with one last plea for life, a life that was taken prematurely.
Towards the forest floor, covered with decaying leaves and foliage, there was almost no semblance of life either. Not a sound made its way through the heavy blanket of silence; no chirp of birds, no soft rustling from hooves or paws, not even the less audible movement of insects. As far as the eye could see, everything was dying or dead; a brown wasteland. There was no new growth; there would be none. This forest hadn't died naturally. Its life had been stolen; stolen by an old evil, ancient and sinister, that left no chance for re-awakening.
Did this evil come from its one sole inhabitant? No, although he would like to think so, but even he couldn't be fooled into thinking his power had done this. He may have joined with this evil, to rule and to be ruled, but by no means had he invented it. It had existed far longer than he had, longer than his old mentor Grindelwald, longer than the thousand year old school of witchcraft and wizardry Hogwarts, even longer than the still living Forbidden Forest.
If one thought about it, hadn't the desire for possessing all encompassing power been present since the very beginning? Ever since the time of Adam and Eve, when both had been tempted, and given in to eating a forbidden fruit, a fruit whose properties included all knowledge and the supposed power to exist and rule apart from God; hadn't that been the start?
The human race, Muggles and Magicals alike had gone downhill ever since, thought the dead forest's one inhabitant with an ironic chuckle, but then he digressed. If Adam and Eve hadn't begun the job long ago though, where would he be now? Then he chuckled again, but less with amusement than with an over-inflated sense of his own destiny. He would've started it; started the rebellion against something that kept him from being in complete control; not just over himself, but over everyone else. After all, what did the rest of the world understand about true power? About controlling and being controlled? Nothing…absolutely nothing, but he would teach them soon enough. They were all pawns and he would be their king; as soon as he got his body back, as soon as his faithful returned to him, as soon as Potter was finally eliminated…soon…very soon…
The lone figure started from his reverie and with red-slitted eyes, blinked angrily against the dawning of a new day. The sky was dusky gray and purple, locked in the period between night and morning, where the sun and moon were both still vying for ownership of the horizon.
With a hideous scowl, he turned his gaze back down to the ground, almost cursing the fates for daring to bring about a new day while he was still so far from his goal.
He needed his body back.
Voldemort gritted his teeth and flared his slitted nostrils in fury at the thought of the boy who had stolen it from him yet again the previous year. He hated Harry Potter with every fiber of the half-life he still possessed.
The first time his body had been stolen, he had bidden his time until his servant, Peter Pettigrew, more aptly named Wormtail, had finally returned to him. Now he, and even his first servant, Stuart Kavan, who had re-joined him later, was dead. Kavan he had killed for his thoughts of betrayal, and Pettigrew, even before Kavan had returned to him, had been disposed of as well; too weak. Was there no one worthy enough to be his right hand?
There was no time to dwell on that now. He felt himself weakening; he needed sustenance. As much as he hated the Forbidden Forest for the life and the semblance of good that still remained there, he knew that the one thing he needed wouldn't be found in Kavan.
Kavan, he snorted derisively to himself. The forest was not so aptly named. He wondered when Dumbledore would figure out that Stuart Kavan hadn't been killed by the dark lord all those years ago, but had actually joined him. Perhaps after what Voldemort had planned for the place it would be re-named, in honor, or fear as the case would be, of him…perhaps…
Voldemort ground his teeth as he glided off in the general direction of the Forbidden Forest. His mind bent with anger, his soul burning for revenge, but most of all at that moment, his transparent body yearning for the only thing that was keeping him alive…
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