Impossibilities
Chapter 1 - It begins
Disclaimer: So seriously, do you think if I owned ANY of this I would be writing fanfiction? No...most decidedly not. J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers and most likely several other important people own these characters. Not me, most decidedly not. So don't get your panties in a twist, just sit back, relax, (have a cookie) and enjoy.
A/N: I've redone the beginning of this fic... no major changes... just switched the orders of events and omitted some parts that i decided i didn't like... this is MAINLY A PROLOGUE so don't expect much to happen until chapters 2 and 3
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Such a lonely spot... neglected and alone.
Then again, the dead rarely have many visitors...
A once small cemetery had been steadily growing in its number of graves until 15 years ago. It had then stayed quite undisturbed until a few months ago when a new grave had been tragically added. This was the burial ground of the Avada Kadavra victims.
Each witch or wizard (muggles of course had been returned to their families for burial along with a memory charm or two) had been placed within its own tomb (a few, most notably James and Lily Potter, had been laid to rest together, side by side, as appropriate) each had a special note or message inscribed upon the stones. This was the ministry's way of honoring those who had died in the face of the Dark Side.
A very sad place, this. Perhaps the saddest for its latest addition, none other than Cedric Diggory.
Now as unhappy a setting as this may be, it was also a rather mysterious place, though none knew of its mystery.
Well none of the living anyhow. For how could they? The mystery was within the tombs, within the very bodies themselves, had anyone cared to look, and none had and no wonder.
Yet say they had- they would have been very surprised to find that the bodies did not look any different from when they had been first laid to rest.
Each one was perfectly preserved: no rotting, no crumbling, no smell, no change, nothing.
How very, very odd.
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Drip...drip...drip...
The sound followed a short hunched figure as it scurried down a long passageways.
Drip...drip...drip...
The small, beady-eyed man winced at that sound. All day, every day, for weeks, sometimes months, that would be the only sound he heard.
Shaking his head, Peter hurried even faster down the hall, trying to outrun the sound of dripping.
Unfortunately for Peter, his speed brought him to his destination far more quickly than he had planned. Before stood a massive doorway. Great iron slabs held in place by rusty bolts with twin handles shaped to perfection to appear as two twisting cobras.
Peter reached out to open the door, thinking furiously fast as to what he would say when he entered the room. It wasn't going to be good.
Just before his fingers brushed the handle Peter hesitated.
Perhaps he shouldn't go in.
He could turn and run now. He shouldn't be here. Why did he bother to serve the evil...thing...on the other side of these doors? Perhaps he was on the wrong side of this war.
NO!
His master was all powerful and by helping him Peter would gain power! That was all that mattered.
His mind decided Peter yanked the snake handle and opened the door as yet but another drop hit the cold damp floor with an aggravating SPLASH. The great doors swung silently inward, opening into the cold dark presence of Lord Voldemort.
"Ahh...my faithful servant," The Dark Lord hissed upon Peter's entrance into the room. Voldemort spat the word faithful out like some secret joke. The smaller man inwardly cringed at the sound of the name his friends had once called him coming from such an evil mouth. "I had been beginning to expect you weren't coming."
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A/N: So that's it... i've changed the order of things a bit... probably makes no difference to anyone but myself.... so humor me...
Please review!