Harry Potter And The Lord Of Darkness

A boy about eleven years of age was sitting on top of a bed holding a book. His crimson eyes danced like fire as they read line after line and his lips curved downwards ever so slightly creating a small frown. His raven black hair would dance every time the oscillating fan faced his way.

All around him were books of a variety of thickness. From thick ones to thin ones, hardcover to paperback, and books with pictures to empty journals. They spilled into his bed and covered his table. Even the light from the window was almost nearly blocked due to a stack a books.

The boy had just about finished his book when a voice called his name from downstairs.

"Arthur, breakfast is ready."

The boy took no notice of the voice and proceeded to flip through the last few pages that remained in the book. Once he had finished, the boy placed the book on his bedside table and stretched his arms.

"Arthur, your plate is getting cold."

"Coming mom," said Arth as he got up from his bed and walked out the door.

The house he was living in was a small but homely place. A living room, dining room, and kitchen with a master bedroom on the lower floor, two rooms, a bedroom and guest room, on the second floor. They had two bathrooms, one downstairs and one upstairs.

It seemed like a normal house at first, however, the real magic was kept in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

Arth poked his head through the kitchen door and searched for his mother. A pot of potato soup was stirring itself with a wooden spoon while a sponge was furiously washing the dishes in the sink. His mother was at the oven taking out a tray of bacon.

"Good morning Mom."

"Good morning Arthur, did you finish your book?"

"Yes, it was quite interesting."

His mother let out a smile before feeding him a strip of bacon. Arth excepted it without complaint.

"Mmmm, this is good."

"There is more for you to eat at the table," said his mother after waving her wand, causing the bacon strips to float onto a plate. "Can you do your mother a favor and call your Father up to eat? I swear he loves working more than he loves me."

"Kay."

Arth closed the door and made his way down to the bas.e.m.e.nt. He knocked thrice before entering. His bas.e.m.e.nt was unnaturally large when compared with the other rooms in the house. As a matter of fact, it was unnaturally large when compared with the entire house. It was as if someone had stretched the room to be bigger than it was.

An cozy looking fireplace sat on the opposite side of the room, emerald flames flickering here and there. A bunch of maps decorated the walls of the room, with circles and arrows pointing from here and there. On the tables were newspapers of all sorts; New York Times, the Times, odd magazines, the Quibbler, and the daily prophet. At one of the tables was his father, calmly writing a letter.

His father looked up from his letter and noticed Arth. He let loose a warm smile.

"How's it going Arth? Is it time for breakfast?"

"Yep."

"We better hurry up then before your mother gets angry then."

"Less go Dad."

The two of them headed up towards the dining room where lovely looking dishes decorated the table. The best part was the dishes were still hot.

A faint steam could be seen rising from the bacon and sausages creating the illusion of a meal fresh out of the oven, causing both of their mouths to start watering.

They sat down at their respective chairs and proceeded to dine. A few moments later, his mother joined the table. After the meal was about half done, his father spoke up, his mouth filled with eggs.

"Are you excited Arth? Today's is the big day. We bought all of your supplies already, didn't we?"

Arth gave a small nod.

"I can still remember my first day as if it were only yesterday. You'll love it there. Are you taking good care of the gift I gave you?"

Arth nodded.

"Be sure to take good care of it. Although it is currently in a fragile state, it will become your best friend later on."

"Kay Dad."

"That's my boy."

His mother gave Arth a warm smile. "Don't be so nervous about leaving us, we'll write to you every week. Plus, you'll make a lot of friends so you won't be lonely. There is a lot to discover there."

"I've heard that Harry Potter will also be attending this year. Wish I could shake his hand once."

"And make that poor little boy uncomfortable? Hah! You'll be better off searching for Dark Wizards and Soviet spies."

Arth quietly finished his plate and placed it in the sink before heading upstairs.

He had learned very quickly from a young age that whenever his parents started bickering, passionate love would follow. Sure enough, when Arth reaches the stairs, he could hear the two of them laughing with joy.

With a disgusted look etched onto his face, Arth ran up the stairs. He never wanted to make the same mistake of hearing his parents kiss each other ever again.

Arth slowly entered his room and made his way to one of the corners. There, an inconspicuous basket covered in a thick blanket awaited him. He gently picked the basket up and made his way to the window.

Arth placed all the books onto the floor and carefully laid the basket down before taking off the blanket.

Between the many layers of cloth in the basket was a single black egg about five centimeters long. Wherever the light hit the egg, it would start to shimmer iridescently, leaving Arth wondering if the egg was black or dark blue.

His father had found the egg during one of his searches in America. He had brought back the egg and gave it to Arth as a congratulatory gift for being accepted into the school.

The school of witchcraft and wizardry. Hogwarts.