Prologue
By: Practical Magic
The worldly hope men set their hearts upon
Turns ashes-- or it prospers; and anon,
Like snow upon the desert's dusty face
Lighting a little hour or two-- is gone.
-- The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayan
Pain.
He'd expected it. Wrenching, bone-crushing, nerve shattering... a gasping sigh and it was over. Regaining his composure, the cloaked man straightened in relief. He turned to the seated figure on the dias and spoke conversationally, without preamble. "There was another sighting today. Harry Potter in Kockturn Alley, of all places."
Since the fall of Lord Voldemort, rumours flew swifter than owl post in the Wizarding World-- rumours about the fate of their savior, Harry Potter. For months, it was as if he'd simply disappeared off the face of the earth. No word. No contact.
Then the sightings began. All over the globe. A muggle city. A wizarding town. Sometimes a secluded beach. Flying overhead on broomstick. Standing in line to buy a butterbeer. Rescuing a drowning child. The list went on and on. The Daily Prophet had a field day, of course. The Ministry, too, was in an uproar. He had even heard it being compared to the sightings of some famous muggle years after his supposed death....
"Eh? Of course there was. Of course." The blonde smirked. "The Weasel and the Mudblood came nosing around afterwards. They're convinced." Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Harry's steadfast Gryffindor friends. They couldn't understand why Harry abandoned them. Why he wouldn't come forward.
The cloaked man cocked his head to the side, listening. Had he only imagined the twinkle in the other's once-bright eyes, now shadowed sockets?
"Because it's true. As long as you're still here. The world needs a hero, doesn't it? The Boy Who Lived."
A pause.
"You're going to live forever." Elegant fingers lightly traced the withered cheekbones, where pale, dry flesh stretched across even paler bone, beginning to peak through. He leaned closer, breath lightly stirring a few whisps of hair across a barely visible, lightning-shaped scar. "I'll fucking see to that."
Draco Malfoy plucked a single black hair from the corpse's head, to prepare his potion anew.
Next Chapter: Finding the Body
I seem to remember there was some pain involved in the potion's transformation-- rearranging one's skeletal structure and all that rot. I could be wrong and if so I apologize.
I honestly don't know where it came from. I was very pleased with the initial reactions to this little ficlet. I never intended it to go any farther than this, but one review did get me thinking. I was outlining another story and it occured to me that there really *was* more I could do with this concept.
Fleshed out, I'm estimating it will run about five chapters in length, with this first short section as a prologue. It will cover a period of time both prior to and after what has taken place-- from about when Draco retrieves Harry's body... and will explore Draco's slow descent into this madness. The last chapter will likely explore the consequences and bring about some closure.
Please do review, even if it's a negative review. I'd love to hear what you think! If you'd like to be notified when this is updated with new chapters, just let me know in a review (and leave your email address). Be happy to.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated characters/concepts belong to J.K. Rowling and others. Passages from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayan translated by Edward FitzGerald. I make no claim to them. Only the plot (twisted though it is) and syntax are mine.