Dark Shadows
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
1,437
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
1,437
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Prologue
Plot, new characters, new magical terms and abilities etc. are my intellectual property. If you want to borrow then please kindly ask. JK Rowling's characters and Wizarding Universe are all uniquely hers.
Authors Notes: I am doing my own thing and am drawing on my own Nanticoke/Lenni-Lenape Native American heritage for this story for inspirational purposes, but am taking a number of liberties here. Some lines of the Native Americans in this story are variations from famous quotes found through many sites on the web as well as my own recollections from various readings.
Summary: After the fall of Voldemort many secrets are revealed amidst new beginnings. But nothing is ever as simple as it would seem. Harry Potter once again is The Chosen One and there is a lot more to loose.
Dark Shadows
by NativeMoon
Prologue
‘Daddy!’ she wailed. “I want my Daddy! Nooooo!!! I want my Daddy!!!”
Tears streamed down the toddler’s face and she screamed as rough hands pulled her from her father’s embrace. The little girl clung desperately to her father as he struggled to hold her for just one more moment. He could not bear to let his child go.
Several men stepped forward and partially blocked his way. They were not afraid of the white man with the strange blood and magic. Their people had their own peculiar brand of natural magic – something far more powerful than most in his world could ever conceive. Including the evil one they were fighting against.
‘What kind of life would she have with you?’ came her grandfather’s voice as he handed the screaming child over to her grandmother. ’You and that metaphysical terrorist your people have unleashed on the world! Your kind made him what he is as much as he himself. So long as he and those who follow in his ways exist in this world, neither my daughter nor my granddaughter will be safe.”
“I’m her father! She belongs with me! I will do the best I can to protect her! I would die for her – I would die for them both! Why can’t you see that?!” the 21 year-old stranger said heatedly.
“Nuxa PLEASE!!” came her mother’s voice as she addressed her grandfather in the language of their people. “I love him! Don’t do this!”
“If you go to this Sewanakw with the strange blood once more, Nicantet, you will never come back! Sacrifice your life but do not sacrifice the little one to the beat of a foolish heart!”
“No thanks to you we have paid for what little have left with our lives,” said an Elder. “And this is how you repay your debt to your people? His problems with this Voldemort are not ours to fight. And neither are they yours. You forget who you are.”
“What do you know of life or death? What do you know of worthy sacrifice?” asked another.
“How smooth must be the language of the whites, when they can make right look like wrong, and wrong like right,” came the voice of another.
“The ground on which we stand is sacred ground. It is the blood of our ancestors. So long as we remain here, we will live,” her grandfather said sternly. “I am a red man and not of your kind. If the Great Spirit had desired me to be a one of your kind he would have made me so in the first place. He put in your heart certain wishes and plans; in my heart he put different desires. Each is good in his sight. It is not necessary for Eagles to be Crows. We may not have much in your eyes but we are free. No demon controls our footsteps; no abomination to all that is sacred and good like the one who will take my foolish daughter’s life. If we must die in that way we will die here as our ancestors did. I say this to you, my nicantet in the presence of the Great Spirit: You rush blindly to your death. This is not a warrior’s death. And the little one – she will not love you for it. Your place is here. You are safe here, with your own kind."
He was crying inside. But it was not the way of his people to show such emotion in the presence of strangers.
“You don’t have the right,” her mother cried. “She’s our baby! Ours! Not yours!”
“You know the ways of our people!” her grandmother evenly. “Surely you did not think that we would let you take her to an early walk home without defending her right to live! She would walk a different path than the one you would choose for her! She has the right to live! She has a right to her own destiny!”
“Daddy please!” she wailed once more craning her head to see her father. She twisted round stretching her arms wide to him, wiggling her fingers trying to touch him. He was so close, and yet so far away. “Don’t leave me Daddy; please don’t leave me!”
“She’s our daughter! We love her!” the stranger said hoarsely as he blinked back hot tears and strained to see the only child he would ever have.
“What will it be, Nicantet?” asked her grandfather sharply. “Your daughter or the Strangeblood?”
Her mother tried to reach out to her and was blocked by several women. She looked up at the Englishman she loved and clung to him. She could not bear to let him go.
“Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
“So be it,” her grandfather said softly.
He raised up his hands.
“Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
FLASH!
Her mother and father were gone.
“Mooooommmmyyyy!!!! Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
“Noooooooooo!!!! Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
“Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
“Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
Authors Notes: I am doing my own thing and am drawing on my own Nanticoke/Lenni-Lenape Native American heritage for this story for inspirational purposes, but am taking a number of liberties here. Some lines of the Native Americans in this story are variations from famous quotes found through many sites on the web as well as my own recollections from various readings.
Summary: After the fall of Voldemort many secrets are revealed amidst new beginnings. But nothing is ever as simple as it would seem. Harry Potter once again is The Chosen One and there is a lot more to loose.
Dark Shadows
by NativeMoon
Prologue
‘Daddy!’ she wailed. “I want my Daddy! Nooooo!!! I want my Daddy!!!”
Tears streamed down the toddler’s face and she screamed as rough hands pulled her from her father’s embrace. The little girl clung desperately to her father as he struggled to hold her for just one more moment. He could not bear to let his child go.
Several men stepped forward and partially blocked his way. They were not afraid of the white man with the strange blood and magic. Their people had their own peculiar brand of natural magic – something far more powerful than most in his world could ever conceive. Including the evil one they were fighting against.
‘What kind of life would she have with you?’ came her grandfather’s voice as he handed the screaming child over to her grandmother. ’You and that metaphysical terrorist your people have unleashed on the world! Your kind made him what he is as much as he himself. So long as he and those who follow in his ways exist in this world, neither my daughter nor my granddaughter will be safe.”
“I’m her father! She belongs with me! I will do the best I can to protect her! I would die for her – I would die for them both! Why can’t you see that?!” the 21 year-old stranger said heatedly.
“Nuxa PLEASE!!” came her mother’s voice as she addressed her grandfather in the language of their people. “I love him! Don’t do this!”
“If you go to this Sewanakw with the strange blood once more, Nicantet, you will never come back! Sacrifice your life but do not sacrifice the little one to the beat of a foolish heart!”
“No thanks to you we have paid for what little have left with our lives,” said an Elder. “And this is how you repay your debt to your people? His problems with this Voldemort are not ours to fight. And neither are they yours. You forget who you are.”
“What do you know of life or death? What do you know of worthy sacrifice?” asked another.
“How smooth must be the language of the whites, when they can make right look like wrong, and wrong like right,” came the voice of another.
“The ground on which we stand is sacred ground. It is the blood of our ancestors. So long as we remain here, we will live,” her grandfather said sternly. “I am a red man and not of your kind. If the Great Spirit had desired me to be a one of your kind he would have made me so in the first place. He put in your heart certain wishes and plans; in my heart he put different desires. Each is good in his sight. It is not necessary for Eagles to be Crows. We may not have much in your eyes but we are free. No demon controls our footsteps; no abomination to all that is sacred and good like the one who will take my foolish daughter’s life. If we must die in that way we will die here as our ancestors did. I say this to you, my nicantet in the presence of the Great Spirit: You rush blindly to your death. This is not a warrior’s death. And the little one – she will not love you for it. Your place is here. You are safe here, with your own kind."
He was crying inside. But it was not the way of his people to show such emotion in the presence of strangers.
“You don’t have the right,” her mother cried. “She’s our baby! Ours! Not yours!”
“You know the ways of our people!” her grandmother evenly. “Surely you did not think that we would let you take her to an early walk home without defending her right to live! She would walk a different path than the one you would choose for her! She has the right to live! She has a right to her own destiny!”
“Daddy please!” she wailed once more craning her head to see her father. She twisted round stretching her arms wide to him, wiggling her fingers trying to touch him. He was so close, and yet so far away. “Don’t leave me Daddy; please don’t leave me!”
“She’s our daughter! We love her!” the stranger said hoarsely as he blinked back hot tears and strained to see the only child he would ever have.
“What will it be, Nicantet?” asked her grandfather sharply. “Your daughter or the Strangeblood?”
Her mother tried to reach out to her and was blocked by several women. She looked up at the Englishman she loved and clung to him. She could not bear to let him go.
“Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
“So be it,” her grandfather said softly.
He raised up his hands.
“Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
FLASH!
Her mother and father were gone.
“Mooooommmmyyyy!!!! Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
“Noooooooooo!!!! Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
“Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”
“Daaaaaadddddyyyyy!!!”