Categories > Books > Harry Potter > River Styx

Chapter 1

by Parvati-Blossom 0 reviews

TRANSLATION.Pre HBP. Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy expected to be the Savior of the Wizarding World, is now Filldeserp, Voldemort's heir and his right-hand man. Now all hopes of finishin...

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama - Characters: Harry, Hermione, Neville, Voldemort - Warnings: [!] [?] [V] - Published: 2006-03-09 - Updated: 2006-03-10 - 3852 words

Title: River Styx

Author: Parvati-Blossom

Translators: Parvati-Blossom, Xav, ChePotter and Nagini

Beta-readers: Layi

Summary: TRANSLATION. Pre HBP. Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy expected to be the Savior of the Wizarding World, is now Filldeserp, Voldemort's heir and his right-hand man. Now all hopes of finishing this heartless war are on Neville Longbottom's shoulders. Will he be able to defeat Voldemort and his protégé? Not Slash.

River Styx doesn't follow HPHBP as it was started before it, and I won't use any relevant information from that book. So you could consider it an AU fict. The original fict is in Spanish, begun in July 2004. So far it has eight chapters. But I keep writing... and update once two months.

We plan to update once a month. Not before, I'm sure. Maybe we'll delay a little as you can see it's not one translator but a group of, and a beta... so... it takes time. And we are all originally Spanish-speaking (except Layi); therefore this translation is a challenge. Any help you think you can give will be welcomed. We won't be offended if you correct grammar, vocabulary or cohesion. We want to improve, so... shoot! But please, do it with proper manners.

Rating: PG13 (it will raise, so... be warned.)

Genre: Drama/Dark/Angst... Touches of action...

Disclaimer: Every HP character belongs to J.K.Rowling and whoever she plans to sell the rights. We are only part of the HP fandom. However there will be characters not mentioned in cannon: they belong to me, Parvati. Examples? Alice Kolberg, Lucas de Santos... So... RS (aka LE) is not totally yours, isn't it, Jo? -laughs-

Note: If you're interested after reading the chapter, I have a Fanlisting as I'm quite... popular in the Spanish HP fandom (and not very modest -laughs-). It has been recently opened, accordingly it's still growing. I'll be honored with your visit! Checkmate: nyaza. dark-obsessions. Net jaquemate/ /without the spaces between)

We hope you enjoy the chapter! And if you're willing... how about writing a review...? -smiles sweetly-


River Styx

By Parvati-Blossom

Chapter 1

London, July 31 2004

Six years had passed since the beginning of the Dark Age. Six years during which thousands of innocent people had died. Six years when the only thing that kept alive the Wizarding World was the hope it placed on its heroes, on those who maybe had a remote chance of defeating the Dark Lord and his minions. Though it was faint at best, it was the only thing they had left.

No-one had expected the war to turn out this way. They had been convinced that Lord Voldemort would be stopped and killed in a few years and, with him, all the death he had brought to their world would be gone. The reality was far from that wish. Not only had the Dark Lord increased in power, but now he had supporters who caused the same terror as he did; supporters who didn't have any mercy at all and had been thoroughly corrupted by the search for revenge and power.

You couldn't walk unconcerned in the streets. Diagon Alley, which used to be a shopping mall and a diversion for young wizards, was always under a looming shadow of apprehension, even when many Aurors were around during the day and the early hours of the night.

The same occurred in all public zones of fame in the world. Service in the Ministry of Magic was reserved just for wizards who had been proven trustworthy before. The most important information was concealed among selected people, after all the betrayals the Ministry had gone through. But none of their precautions were useful when it came to preventing deaths.

The organization that opposed the Dark Lord's plans was still, as it had been in the past, the Order of the Phoenix. The old generation and the new one, which had suffered more because of the recent past, joined. Their leader was, as before, Albus Dumbledore, but he was no longer the Order's most powerful wizard. With him becoming old, the magic he so depended on was losing its vitality. However, the Hogwarts headmaster had not lost his clear mind and that special gift he had for defensive strategies.

Other well-known heroes were the bright Auror trio, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom. They were the most effective force the Ministry and the Order had against the dark forces. They were always predisposed to the most dangerous missions, including the ones most people would refuse for the risk of losing their lives. But they didn't worry about that - it even encouraged them.

"What is the use of being an Auror if you don't risk?," they used to say.

Each one of them had a painful history to recall, a history they didn't want anyone to live again.

Ron had suffered the loss of many brothers.

Neville still had his parents at St. Mungo's and his grandmother had been murdered - bled to death, the report had said - some years ago.

And regarding Hermione... Her father had died in a Death Eater attack before her seventh year at Hogwarts and her mother had remained in a severe state since then. However, the three of them had endured together the loss of various close friends.

Among them was Harry Potter.

The Wizarding Community believed him dead since 1998, but they, who had been his best friends, had undergone his death in 1996, the year when the beginning of the end had started. In that summer the Harry Potter they knew disappeared. His personality and character changed drastically, a consequence of his godfather's death a few weeks before. When they met again at Hogwarts after almost three months without seeing each other, the Harry Potter they knew had become totally aloof, his face an endlessly neutral mask. His beautiful green eyes were shadowed by the lack of their former vividness, the darkness winning over their former splendour.

During their sixth year they noticed Harry's new obsession for studying - especially when he came close to equaling Hermione's marks. The girl had justified that change, telling Ron and Neville that Harry had assumed studying as a way of distraction, of protecting himself.

The truth had been far from that. For Harry, knowledge was power, and he needed power to achieve his purposes.

Neither of them had known that Harry maintained his mental contact with Lord Voldemort during his sleepless nights. Throughout those midnight conversations, the two old enemies shared a strange familiarity that only got stronger with time. Voldemort found a great Slytherin in Harry's deepness, a Slytherin he helped to rise in cunning and determination. It was on one of those occasions when Harry started to get interested in the Dark Arts. However, nobody knew that. Not even Dumbledore, who hadn't taken his eyes off Harry all through those two years.

In his seventh year, the young Potter ended up being the chosen Head Boy for Gryffindor. It was the same year where the trust and friendship he had had with Hermione and Ron was fully destroyed, demolishing the ex-Gryffindor's golden trio. Potter enjoyed loneliness, so he considered 'friendship' as an unnecessary thing in his present life. Everyone thought it would be a matter of time until he realized how much he needed the presence of people who understood him. Wrong they were again.

Harry had that comprehension from someone else, the only one he needed and would teach him to outstrip his past weaknesses: Lord Voldemort. His fidelity and faith in Dumbledore had vanished after his godfather's death. At that time, he started to wonder about what he should do... Dumbledore had only given him agony and lies, so he'd give a single chance to Voldemort. If the Dark Lord proved to be capable of providing him what he needed, his position would change toward the dark side in that war.

And Voldemort had fulfilled Harry's expectations.

At the end of his seventh year, after the graduation ceremony, Voldemort attacked Hogwarts with his best weapons. The vampires' absolute unification with his side, along with other clans of giants and werewolves, and his loyal snakes were the big strike. His Death Eaters took care of the rest.

It was a dark day for the Wizarding World. The day when the new wizard generation saw with their own eyes what that Wizarding war meant. Few survived to tell about it.

Everyone expected Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and prestigious Head Boy - graduated with best marks - to be one of the defense groups' leaders. That was the last mistake they made about the boy. Never again they would prejudge him...

Harry Potter had stood at Voldemort's right side, the place envied by all the Death Eaters, and it indicated that whoever was there had the Dark Lord's full protection and security. It pointed out he was the exemplar Death Eater, the most powerful and loyal of the entire group. The position had been free for many years until that moment and Potter possessed it until now. He had never left it.

The Wizarding World preferred to think the Boy Who Lived had died at the attack. Now he was referred as Voldemort's Heir or Filldeserp, the name the Dark Lord had given him in his Inner Circle. Nobody associated the new him with the naive image from his first years at Hogwarts. Only Voldemort called him for his true name in some occasions...

Voldemort and Potter... It was their alliance's public revelation that originated the Dark Age. The perfect duo to provoke panic in England and the rest of the world... It seemed there was no way out of the Darkness's Reign which was drawing nearer each day. The moment would arrive when nobody was there to oppose them and everyone would fall. But, until then, the wizards supported their heroes, the ones who hadn't broken down yet.

"Neville! What were you thinking when you didn't come to the reunion?!" Hermione Granger shouted angrily that morning.
"Last night I had some things to take care about, rather than listening to MacMillan's monotone speech," Longbottom commented, distracted.
"Do you want to get a sanction for your inefficacy?" she reprimanded him again.
"They won't," Neville shrugged. "They haven't done that for years and I don't believe they'll start now, after the Death Eaters' attack at that Muggle festival..."

Hermione and Neville were sitting down, supposedly working, at the general Aurors' headquarters in the Ministry of Magic. There had been a bosses' meeting under Minister Ernie MacMillan's petition the night before. So it wasn't strange to find the Aurors looking really tired that day.
Hermione Granger had become an attractive woman, just reaching her twenty-fourth year. She was tall and slender, with a delicate body. Her fine features were marked by dark shadows under her eyes, which made her look decades older. At Hogwarts, she had been known for her messy brown hair and its lack of beauty. Now it was straight enough, but its tips kept being difficult to deal with. It had a special brightness when receiving the proper care and it fell smoothly to her shoulders. And her eyes, which had been full of life and calmness in the past, were now sad and reflected the stress of her nonstop working day.
Neville had left behind that unconfident boy he used to be. With the years, he had showed why he had been chosen for Gryffindor's House. He revealed valuable bravery and fidelity to his people, and he was an authentic gentleman with those ladies who were worth his respect. However, he kept being a lost cause at remembering, it didn't matter how much effort he put into it. Hermione suspected it wasn't a natural thing, but a consequence of some memory charms placed on him in his first years of life. His face continued to be plump, but thanks to the constant exercise, he had become a thin man.

"Neville, you can't be absent in those reunions. Although we know most of the things they talked about, there were other things still worth listening to."
"Were there?" someone asked behind Hermione. When she turned around, she found a smiling Ronald Weasley. "Tell me what it was, Mione, because maybe I fell asleep in that part..."

Ron was just the same, a red-haired man with bright blue eyes. He was the tallest and proudest of the trio. However, he wasn't as arrogant as everyone would expect him to be for being one of the most famous Aurors. He had rather learnt to like modesty. His face had an angelic look, a virtue given by his freckles. But he usually lost the plot when he got impulsively mad.

"And you two are outstanding Aurors' leaders?" Hermione asked exasperated. "That explains why we're so bad..."
"Look who has talked... Miss Perfect," Ron said making fun of her while putting his elegant coat right.

The Aurors' trio was just like that. It didn't matter how serious the conversation was, they always tried to make fun of it. They were mature and sensible people, but they needed some sense of humor in those dark days. That was what held them up. If it wasn't for it, they would have fallen years before, with the rest of their partners.
Hermione was the brain of the group, Neville was the power and Ron the strategy and the impulse. The strategies formed by Weasley, even through they weren't prefect, didn't usually have wrong details. Hermione had always the key for any sort of problem and, most of the times, she led them with her intuition. As for Neville, he was considered one of the most experienced wizards of the time. The hero who filled the empty space Potter had left.

"We have to investigate the last attack in a Muggle town," Hermione informed them evenly, resolute to change topic.
"I don't believe they attacked it for any particular reason," Ron pointed out, "There weren't any wizards or witches living there, were there?"
"But, maybe, there was somebody important from the Muggle world," Neville said. "Did they catch any Death Eater at the attack?"
"Uhm..." Hermione looked for a parchment, which was marked with a red line in the left border, between the piles she had on the desk. After examining it, she handed it to her friends. "Jugson, Cornfoot, Branstone..."
"And have they said something about it?' Ron asked, frowning.
"You already know what happens. They are more scared of Voldemort and Filldeserp's reprisals than what we could do to them." Neville answered. "We should employ more drastic methods to make them talk. Fire against fire, don't you think?" Hermione made a face.
"I wish they felt the same fear to Azkaban as before," she whispered.
"The damned Dementors joined the Dark Lord years ago.... Since then we haven't found any good replacement... it doesn't matter how much we try..." Ron said, shaking his head. "I wonder what the Dark Lord would do to them if they betrayed him... through, I can guess."
"It wouldn't be a quick death, that's for sure, Ron," Neville said after a sigh, "but I've heard from the prisoners that Filldeserp is the one who carries out the ruthless punishments... they say he has an extraordinary instinct for detecting lies," Ron and Hermione's faces darkened at the mention of their past friend.
"The despicable traitor... I swear someday he'll pay for everything he's done to us..." Ron whispered, his words filled with a fierce hatred. On the other hand, Hermione looked sad and thoughtful.
"Today is his twenty-fourth birthday," She murmured nostalgic, "I wish he was still with us to celebrate it together..."
"He doesn't deserve it, Mione. I'm sure Voldemort will take charge so that today is the best day in his life," Hermione smiled sadly at Ron's words.
"Everything could have been so different..."
"However, it isn't," Neville said brusquely, ending Hermione's broken words. "It doesn't matter anymore what could have been, but what it is... He's Voldemort's Heir. There is nothing left of the person we knew long ago..."
"I know," She nodded, "I only wonder why he decided to betray us, what we did wrong to make him join the one who ruined his life..."
"We didn't do anything wrong, Hermione. It was him. Only he was the culprit of what happened. He let himself fall. He gave in, preferring to do what was easy instead of what was right. He'll pay for that and when he realizes what he did, it will be too late."

The conversation ended there although the trio went on wondering about it. Ron as much as Neville saved an exclusive space to Harry in their hearts... the hate's place. None of them needed to enumerate their reasons for doing so. The thought of how he had betrayed them, a person they had loved and learnt from, disgusted them. Ron would never forget the day of his graduation thanks to the bastard. The image of his ex-best friend taking place next to Voldemort still tormented him in his sleepless nights.

Could he have avoided it? Was Hermione right?

Ron refused to believe so. Harry was the coward, it was him who surrendered, it was him who hadn't appreciated their friendship, who hadn't looked back, who hadn't overcome his weaknesses... They weren't guilty of Potter's transgression.

On the contrary, Hermione did believe so. They could have been the difference in Harry's choice if they had simply showed a little more comprehension for the boy, if they had aided and talked with him when they knew he needed it. They had understood all wrong. They thought Harry needed time to heal, time to be alone. And then... it had just been the opposite.

If only they had realized what was happening to Harry before, that wouldn't have happened... If they hadn't been satisfied with his monotone answers to their questions about his state, his problems... If they had seen beyond their friend's perfect mask, if they had inquired about his fanaticism for knowledge and his distressing silence... They would have been the friends Harry had needed.

They dismissed him, judged him incorrectly, abandoned him...

"Mione, what time did Dumbledore tell us to go to headquarters?" Ron asked, interrupting his job to raise his blue eyes and look at her.

Hermione didn't answer, deep in thought. Neville interchanged an alarmed glance with Ron. Their friend never daydreamed at work - she considered it inappropriate. She was the most diligent at the Ministry's works and now... she was absent-minded?

"Mione?" Neville asked cautiously. He put a hand on her shoulder, startling her.
"Are you okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she answered dryly. Neville cleared his throat nervously.
"Because Ron's asked you a question and you haven't even listened to him..."
"I'm sorry. What were you saying, Ron?"
"What time do we have to go to headquarters?"
"At eight."
"What were you thinking about, Mione?" Neville asked.
"Nothing, Nev. Don't worry. I'm leaving to have lunch; it isn't a problem for you, is it?"

Before they could answer, the brown-haired witch had gone out without saying anything more.

July 31 brought always so many memories.


The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix could be found in one of the most protected areas of England. Only chosen members knew about its location, a security measure they had had to adopt at that time if they didn't want to be taken by surprise by Voldemort's dark legions.

The Order spies on Voldemort's side were few, but they were very effective and they risked their lives sending critical information about the Dark Lord's next moves. In this way, they had been able to stop a third of the deaths at certain attacks.

But nothing of it was useful if behind the information you didn't have people who could keep the Wizarding World safe. Therefore the Ministry Aurors or the ones already retired were part of the Order. And they didn't only have defenders, but numerous Healers in the group for any urgent situation too. St Mungo's Hospital wasn't safe any longer since it had been almost conquered by Death Eaters during an attack some months ago.

For the same reason, the Order was the only organization clever enough to aspire to facing the Dark Lord's ideals. As Voldemort was, they were also fighting for the support of other countries. At the beginning, the majority had positioned in a neutral state until they finally suffered the bloodthirsty tragedy that stimulated the dark forces. It was a fight for power and only the one who could dominate the other would win and live to tell the tale.

"Ron, Herm, Nev, here!" a female voice called them from the other side of the room.
"How are you, Ginny?" asked Neville, smiling sweetly.

Everyone knew how much the Auror loved Ginny Weasley, but he had never declared as much because of a sincere fear of putting her into danger and being guilty of allowing harm to come to her. Some suspected that Ginny returned his affection due to the singular treatment she gave him. Many said they would be a wonderful couple; nevertheless, Ron insisted they had crashing personalities.

Ginny Weasley had turned into a respectable young lady. Her red hair reached her waist and surrounded her face in graceful scarlet waves, making her seem more innocent than she really was. She'd usually wear it untied. Her brown eyes tended to sparkle with warmth and security, constantly inspiring confidence in the people she looked at. Her height was average, a bit shorter than Hermione.

"Fine. What's up?"
"As always the Ministry keeps being boring and chaotic," Ron shrugged his shoulders, "and St Mungo's?"
"We aren't any better," Ginny pointed out. She had decided to be a Healer because of her unfathomable inner wish to save innocent lives.
"This can't go on like this," Hermione whispered.
"Everyone wants this to end, Mione," Ron consoled her. "But until those damned Death Eaters are dead, there's not way."

At that moment, a distressed Remus Lupin entered the room. Everybody present, who was divided into diverse groups talking about different subjects, turned to look at him, alarmed by his appearance. An uncharacteristic pallor was on his face as he struggled to return his breath to normal.
Remus was one of those people who had taken the war with the greatest seriousness in the Order. He was hardly seen smiling during the day and he was usually tired and exhausted. Maybe he considered the war as a personal challenge... to show his beloved ones, who had died in that first war, that he wouldn't fail, he would fight for them and take revenge for them. If he died, he'd do so heroically, fighting like them.

"They're attacking...!" he informed, shattering the deathly silence.
"What?" many of them shouted, disturbed, as others moaned with horror.
"Diagon Alley and the Muggle London sector which surrounds it!" the werewolf gasped, leaning against a table for support.

Immediately the present Aurors disappeared, knowing exactly what they had to do.

Defend what belonged to them: hope and life.
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