DZ2's Den of Delights

Hi to all my loyal readers and those who enjoy my stories: now, this is NOT an official story in itself, but one of those things where the author posts the first parts/chapters of stories and ideas that suddenly decide to take root within his or her mind. All are fresh ideas, but ONLY previews; I felt a need to get them down on paper while they were there. I don't know if I'll post the full things, but for now, enjoy these tasters…

And so, let's start with the first: a response to my newest Challenge: Price of Power…here is a preview of my ideal response: Harry Potter's Supreme Darkness – for Challenge information, see my forum!

D3

Harry knew that if he was found arriving at home later than Dudley, there'd be hell to pay…

Running down into the tunnel that ran under the roads between Privet Drive and Magnolia Crescent, Harry was then aware of the lights in the tunnel flickering with electrical weakness. At first, he considered this to be little more than an annoyance: these lights were always on the blink and besides, as a magic-user, it didn't surprise Harry that lights flickered when he was around: Hermione had always said that electronics always broke down in the presence of magical areas.

However, as he continued running after Dudley, Harry was then aware of a feeling of intense cold that ran through the tunnel, tickled at the back of his neck and gave Harry a familiar dreading feeling of discomfort that was combined with shock as he looked around, his hand slowly moving to his wand.

This cold…

This dread…

This effect…

He knew them all, but this was impossible: they couldn't be here…not in Little Whinging.

"Who's that?"

Dudley's voice distracted Harry from his dread and, as he looked past his large cousin, the eyes of the young Gryffindor narrowed as he noticed a woman that was standing at the other end of the tunnel, her dark hair easily noticeable in the flickering lights of the tunnel. The woman was dressed in a black gown with slightly-ruffled areas that covered her shoulders and divided each layer of her gown. As far as Harry could tell, she was unarmed, but he wasn't so quick to discourage that she had some sort of weapon on her person.

"Dudley," Harry whispered, his hand now wrapping around the handle of his wand as he advised the large teen, "Stay back…"

"Wise advice, Harry Potter," the woman's voice carried down the tunnel, her tone edged by a sense of cold amusement that almost sounded musical as she spoke.

Dudley, however, didn't listen as he approached the woman's spot: with a disbelieving glance, Harry couldn't believe that his cousin was actually about to hit a woman just because…well, just because she was different.

Besides, he had more important matters to think about: the cold was intensifying and Harry's chest felt like his heart had suddenly become numb: they were getting closer, but something was wrong. He'd hear them before he saw them and yet, the only thing that Harry could hear was the woman's steps as they moved down the tunnel.

The lights' patterns of flickering and electrical discharges grew stronger, fiercer and more frequent as the woman walked down the tunnel; when she reached Dudley, Harry felt his heart stop dead when the woman gestured to his large cousin and, incredibly, Dudley was sent sprawling to the floor. A look of pity crossed the woman's face as she moved down the tunnel towards Harry and, as he looked at her, Harry suddenly found his wand in his hand, pointing at the woman as he demanded, "S-S-Stay where you are: who are you and how did…how did you do that?"

"This is not the place for such a conversation," the woman advised him, her eyes glancing to his, which Harry then noticed were a deep, eerie shade of mercury that seemed to shift and contort like water was locked in the colour's glare. Yet the woman kept her distance as she added, "I am not your enemy, Harry Potter: truth is that I am here to speak to you, but we cannot talk here for long. Please, come with me and I give you my word of honour that you shall not be harmed."

"How do I know you're not with Voldemort?" asked Harry, noticing that the woman didn't flinch with the name.

"If I wished to hurt you, I would have done so," the woman explained, her hand extended as she added, "And were I a slave of Tom Riddle's, then I would have summoned him here once you were alone and defenceless…besides," she rolled up her sleeves and revealed bare arms to Harry as she told him, "I do not bear the Dark Mark, so I do not bow to that half-blood pretender, Riddle. Please," she added, indicating the world around them, "We are running out of time: there is someone approaching that is not your ally…not really; come with me, Harry Potter, and you will be safe."

"How do I know I can trust you to your word?" asked Harry, his eyes almost narrowed as he explained, "I don't even know your name…or anything about you."

"Then let me ease your pains there," the woman suggested, pressing a hand to her breast as she explained, "My name is Mira Zanbaka and I am a Sorceress of great power, Harry Potter. To that end, I suggest that, if you cannot trust me, then I ask you to demand a Sorcerer's Vow of me."

"A what?"

"It is stronger than a witch's oath and more binding than an Unbreakable," Mira explained, her voice gentle as she told him, "It will be precise and to the point and requires no input from you: if I break the terms of my vow, then I become yours to do with as you wish…plus, unless you specify it upon my breaking the vow, I lose my magic and my spirit to the ether."

Harry stared at Mira in shock as he tried to get his head around this;

What could she want to tell him that would require such a price?

Well, like I said, there it is: a preview of an idea that I've got roaming around in my head; I don't know if I'll post the story, but I hope this taster whets your appetite for my stories and my ideas. There's a clue to the theme of the story in this preview: you just have to look closer.

Another preview coming soon…