Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise, I only own the Salesmen, Leandra Black and a few other OC's you'll be reacquainted with shortly.

Summary: In Hogwarts, written on the boy's bathroom wall on the sixth floor was an irremovable piece of graffiti. It appeared in the spring of 1991 and its black, spidery letters won't ever fade. It's message: We are Salazar's Salesmen. We will cater to your every need. No matter how unseemly they may be. But all for a fee. Welcome to the underbelly of Hogwarts, where the Salesmen are untouchable, or so they think.

A/N: Finally! This is a sequel to Salazar's Salesmen, but I'll be writing this as best as I can so new readers will be able to enjoy it. Hopefully I'll be seeing or hearing back from people who followed the first Salesmen story. This fic will take place between GoF and HBP, it will center on the Salesmen and one Salesmen in particular. Canon characters from Slytherin will be huge players. Hmmm that's all I can think about saying at this time... please R&R and enjoy!

A Sirius Summer

Once upon a time, there was a Death Eater named Ascanius Stirling, who had a talent for cold-blooded murder, especially of his own family. He belonged to the Stirling family, a family that once was one of Britain's most prestigious pureblood families. They migrated to England in the 1700's with nothing to their name except for their purity of blood and their talent at being crafters.

Crafters are described in layman terms as magical architects. Magical buildings were complex structures, dangerous because of their unpredictable nature. An empty hallway could devour its creator if it felt it wasn't beautiful enough. If a house becomes bored with its fashion it can rearrange itself. In the wizarding world, if you say a house or building has 'personality' you mean it literally. A crafter knows how to control magical constructs, and battle their personalities if they need to.

The Stirling family had the reputation of training and employing the best crafters. Ascanius had much pride in his lineage until the day he discovered a horrifying secret kept by his parents. His mother was Muggle-born. It was an outrage, and it inspired him to ensure the cleansing of his family.

He sat in an iron-barred cage in Nurmengard. Somewhere high above him Gellert Grindelwald was locked away, in his own prison. But Ascanius was kept below the earth, in the basement dungeons. His iron cage was lowered into a fifteen feet deep dugout. Only twice in his fourteen years imprisoned had he seen the light of day.

Ascanius was once handsome, now he was tall, gaunt with dark hair that was long and dirty. A fight had left his nose broken. His once angular and strong jaw was also broken, shattered long ago, it hung crooked and every time he clenched his mouth it went click.

Click. Click.

He stared at his left forearm. The Dark Mark, the symbol of his Dark Lord, was prickling. It used to be only a tingle.

Click.

There was something rustling above in his cell room. His forearm felt a sharp pinch. Ascanius stood up, looked up eagerly and peering down into his cage from the edge of the dugout was a rat.

Click. Click.

It wasrat with a paw missing a toe.

XXX

I, E. Murray,hereby swear under threat of immense bodily pain, never to reveal the conditions or proceedings of my 23 May 1992 transaction with Salazar's Salesmen (Salesmen).
I will not speak of this transaction with anybody, human or beast, not my friends, family, acquaintances or medical advisor. When interrogated by an authority figure of any kind, I will not
say any name or describe any characteristics that could lead to the exposure of the Salesmen. I will not state any locations relevant to my experience with the Salesmen.
If I am caught with my order of 1/3 litre of Scintillation Solution at the price of 15 Galleons, I will accept the consequences alone. If I try to breach this contract, I will be physically
interrupted by magical interference for every attempt. In return the Salesmen will maintain an equal level of confidentiality. These terms extend to 1st June 2017.

X… Eddie Murray…..House: Hufflepuff… Date: 23-5-92…

XXX

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a place for learning, growth and – if you're smart enough – power. While many might be suspicious of a statement like that, I ask that you maintain an open mind. At times, normal people don't even realize who has the power. Power can be subtle. Power can be blunt. Power can be good. Power can be bad. It depends who wields it.

But there is power at Hogwarts to have.

And by the early spring of 1991 a group of first-year boys had discovered their power.

"Coast is clear," a boy with stringy dirty-blonde hair, whispered to his mates. He'd peered over the corner into the next hallway. They were on the sixth floor, heading for the boys' bathroom. There were four of them – all were in Slytherin.

"Can't believe we convinced Pretzel to run through the Great Hall wearing nothing but he's underwear," snickered one of his friends. This boy had feathery, light blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. Though he was eleven years old, you could tell he was going to grow up very handsomely. Rightly so too, his great-grandmother had been a Veela.

"I believe it, he's an idiot," replied a short, stocky boy with black hair that stood up as if electrified.

"Once he's got Filch and his raggedy cat after him, he's suppose to head for the Forbidden Forest," said a boy with dark, wavy hair. He took out an expensive looking, silver pocket watch. He grinned, "If he's managed that, we've got loads of time."

"Reckon Mrs. Norris will get her claws on him first?" the light-blonde boy asked. "With nothing but knickers, he won't have much protection."

His friends stifled their laughter. The boy with dirty blonde hair opened the door to the boys' bathroom. They walked to the back, to stand before a blank wall. The boy with the silver watch took out his wand, twirling it between the fingers of his left hand.

"Any of you know about the Sistine Chapel?" he asked his friends. They all frowned, confused, except for the boy with the dirty blonde hair.

He chuckled. "Easy Blackstone, we're not after that effect."

"It just came to mind," grinned Blackstone. He raised his wand, murmured a spell and began to write on the wall with large, black, spidery letters…

We are Salazar's Salesmen

We will cater to your every need. No matter how unseemly they may be. But all for a fee.

While the Weasley twins were a force of light-hearted anarchy in Hogwarts, Salazar's Salesmen made up a highly ambitious criminal group. They ran the unofficial underworld of Hogwarts. They smuggled contraband into the school and sold it to desperate students. When they started off in November 1990 only those in Slytherin knew about their services. But now, the Salesmen had everything for everybody's dark desires. They could get you an assortment of potions, low-level cursed objects, Dungbombs, Firewhiskey, they even had your class papers written for you…

If you wanted their service, you sent an owl to Sal's Guys. The Salesmen will then contact you with an order sheet and contracts for you to sign. They always sent two contracts. One was for payment and the other was for an oath of silence. If you failed to sign either, they refused your business.

Officially, their identities were secret. They covered their tracks meticulously. Officially, you didn't know who they were. Unofficially, you knew and they knew you knew.

XXX

Student: Corvus Dante Blackstone, Slytherin…. 1 September 1990

Incident: Found in the Trophy Hall, caught in ruckus with G. Curtis. Suspect they were dueling.
Blackstone looked untouched, sent Curtis to nurse's – injury due to Stinging Hex.

Punishment: He will weed the pumpkin patch, no magic. Place Blackstone under
surveillance, future troublemaker.

Authorized by: A. Filch

XXX

"What are you doing?"

"Hey Corvus. Do you know if we have flour?"

Corvus's lip curled, he set down his piece of charcoal. He was fifteen years old now; trying to enjoy what was left of his summer vacation. He was staying at a small summerhouse hidden high up on the slope of Cordillera de Talamanca in Costa Rica. On this vacation with him were his mother, weird House-elf and two escaped felons.

Corvus was speaking to one of these felons at the moment, in the kitchen. "Why?"

"It's almost Harry's birthday, you know," Sirius Black explained as he made a racket moving through the pots and pans. Corvus glared at him. "And those Muggles he lives with are forcing some diet on him because his cousin is the size of –"

"A baby whale. I know," snapped Corvus. "You've told me everything there is to know about Potter's current life. Thank you."

Sirius turned to look at him. Corvus had been drawing in his sketchbook at the kitchen table. All summer had been like this. But Sirius still tried. "Well, your mum and I thought we'd surprise him with a birthday cake," he said brightly.

Corvus scoffed, "Okay."

"I guess I'll wait for your mum to get back," he sighed, putting down the pan. Sirius no longer had that matted, long hair. Corvus's mother had cut it for him the first night they met up with him after parting ways when Sirius escaped Hogwarts. He was still incredibly skinny. The few times Sirius dared to visit the beach with Corvus and his mother in human form, Corvus found it awkward to see him shirtless. You could see every bone prodding out of him. And he was strikingly pale. Now he had more meat on his bones, but Corvus doubted he'd ever look healthy again.

Sirius sat down at the table with Corvus, who pretended to ignore him. A long pause past, then…

"Your mother was always drawing too, when she was your age," Sirius told him. Corvus's grey eyes glanced up, it was whenever they got on the subject of his mother's past that Corvus got a little apprehensive. "Do you draw people's portraits too? She did."

"No, not really," he replied. Putting his charcoal down again, he flipped through the pages. They were mostly landscapes and still lives. "I know she drew a lot of portraits… I saw a few of her old books."

"It wasn't like she drew a lot of different portraits," he said. "She just drew a couple peoples'."

"Yeah, I've seen," repeated Corvus. "She drew my grandparents from her side a lot, when they were alive."

"She drew Regulus a lot," he corrected. Corvus frowned. Sirius tended to get weird whenever he tried to casually bring up the past. "I remember when she let me have a look at her sketchbook, I couldn't get over how many pictures there were of him."

"They weren't ever done," he said quietly.

"Right, she said she could never get his eyes right… you're supposed to have his eyes."

Corvus heard this before. His mother always told him that. His eyes were grey with specks of green, like his father's.

"Hell if I know though," his uncle remarked abruptly. "Never cared to notice Regulus's eyes. By the time I was twelve I couldn't stand looking at anyone in my family for longer than ten seconds. I'd much rather their eyes popped out of their skulls than study them. But your mum know Reg's eyes like the back of her hand… apparently."

Corvus's law clenched. Merlin… what I would do to hit him with a Stinging Hex…

A welcomed distraction came. There was a loud screech from the kitchen window. On the windowsill outside was a large peregrine falcon with a dark copper-barred underside. All bitterness disappeared in Sirius's demeanor. He smiled, got up and opened the window for the bird.

Nothing relieved Corvus more than seeing this bird fly into the small summerhouse and morph back into his mother, Leandra Black.

XXX

Student: Maxwell Andrew Love, Slytherin…. 4 December 1990

Incident: R. Davis found in girl's bathroom on second floor, duct taped to toilet. Face severely disfigured by a Furnunculus Jinx.
Entire floor flooded. Davis named Love as claimed self-defense. No witnesses. Don't trust Love.

Punishment: He will wash entire girl's bathroom. No magic.

Authorized by: A. Filch

XXX

Leandra was wearing a pale yellow dress and sandals. Her dark copper hair was down in billowy, thick curls and she wasn't wearing her glasses that day. Last year his mother looked completely different. She'd only wear black, her hair was dyed black as well and it was always kept straight. The changes in her appearance started when Sirius broke out of Azkaban.

In her arms she held a stake of papers. Sirius immediately took them from her and his face leaned in close to hers. Corvus's eyes went wide, alarmed. Leandra looked shocked too, but Sirius stopped himself, like he reminded a kiss wasn't appropriate… not in front of Corvus.

"Huh, hi," he grumbled instead and walked away with the papers, setting them on the kitchen table and avoiding eye contact with his nephew. Leandra nervously pushed back her hair.

"Hello Corvy," she smiled at her son. "Still no sign of your Hogwarts letter."

"I don't care."

"Come on! It's your fifth year now. Your OWLs are coming. I was very excited to get my letter my fifth year. Just reading the booklist got me excited for every – oh stop it!"

Sirius was sniggering at her. She lightly slapped his arm.

"Trust me," she continued, "at this level you'll finally get a glimpse at real magic."

"Yeah, I'm sure Binn's class is going to turn into a real rollercoaster this year, Corvus," nodded Sirius. Before he could stop himself, Corvus chuckled.

"You're hilarious," she glared at Sirius, but her mean look quickly melted. They held each other's stare for a brief moment. This happened a lot over the summer.

"How was visiting the Tower?" he had to interrupt them some how. Leandra turned her attention back at him.

"Actually, quite exciting," she grinned. Corvus's mother was the Madame Crafter of the Stirling Tower. She'd inherited from her uncle Eros Stirling after his suspicious suicide in '79. She was one of the few survivors of the Stirling Massacre, courtesy of her brother Ascanius. "Stirling Tower's got two new projects lined up. Lucius Malfoy's just donated a load of coins to St. Mungo's. The hospital wants us to revamp their exterior now?"

"Really? I always thought their cover-up was pretty good," Sirius commented as he went about the kitchen gathering ingredients again. "Do we have flour?"

Leandra took out her wand. "Honestly, Sirius… Accio Flour."

A bag of flour flew out of a cabinet. Leandra handed it to Sirius, and Corvus smirked at his mother's easy cleverness.

"What is St. Mungo's cover up?" he asked her.

"Oh you have to step through a window of a crumbling department store called Purge and Dowse, Ltd.," she replied, bored. "The problem is that it's in London and they've had an increasing number of homeless Muggles stumbling upon their location. They'll just need a few more Muggle repellents… Though I think maybe we should board up the window, have wizards tap their wands on it… no, that wouldn't do, what if the poor bloke doesn't have hands to use a wand?"

"Is that all they want?" said Corvus.

"No, they need the foundations of the second floor redone. That's the floor where they care for illnesses brought on by magical bugs and diseases. Apparently one of their patients went crazy, tried to hide inside the walls and died there, so his body's fumes is giving off the virus that was in him. It's seeping into - "

"Okay! I think Corvus and I can take it from there, Lee, thank you," Sirius interrupted. Leandra laughed.

"Sorry, I forgot what a weak stomach you've got," she said slyly. "Anyway, I think I'll put Kevin Richardson on this one. He's been showing real talent, it's about time I see how he handles a team under him."

"Why don't you take it, mum?"

She shrugged. "I've done stuff at St. Mungo's before. And this is going to be a small project. Besides, I haven't told you about the second project! Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports, was so taken with how well the Tower did the grand stadiums for the Quidditch World Championsh - "

CRACK

XXX

Student: Louis Roger Vaisey, Slytherin… 23 October 1991

Incident: Vaisey was caught setting aflame the Hufflepuff's brooms during their practice. C. Diggory turned him in to Hooch.
She turned him in over to me for more punishment.

Punishment: Three months detention and Hooch has banned him from an entire season of Quidditch.
Keep eye on Vaisey, may be able to get him expelled.

Authorized by: A. Filch and R. Hooch

XXX

Everyone flinched as Coco, the former House-elf to the Stirling family appeared out of thin air. She was at Leandra's side, holding a portable radio in her tiny hands, tuned in to the Wizarding Wireless Network. Coco was an interesting House-elf. His mother freed her thirteen years ago, but she still insisted on serving Leandra and Corvus. But now she was allowed to wear clothes, and she only wore Quidditch stuff. For example, in honor of that day's match, she had an England jersey on with a Transylvania jumper tied around her waist.

"Lady Leandra says we're going to see the World Cup now?"

"No Coco," Leandra told the elf firmly. "I told you, we're returning to England in time for the Final Match. No sooner than that. It's only a few more days, okay?"

"Coco just hopes Lady Leandra has change of heart, that's all," Coco said droopily.

Sirius laughed, that laugh of his that remind Corvus of Padfoot's bark. " How's the game goin', Coco?"

Coco gave a miserable whimper. "Transylvania is very mean to beat England like this. It is two hundred and thir-" she was interrupted when the announcer on the radio went wild as another score was made. Coco corrected her answer. "Two hundred and forty points to ten."

"Two hundred and forty to ten?" Sirius repeated, popping up from behind the refrigerator's door. "That's embarrassing!"

Coco nodded, looking very depressed. Corvus held back a snigger. Her melancholy made her funnier looking. She had large orb-like eyes, one blue one brown and her ears stood out like floppy pigtails.

Leandra sighed before continuing. "As I was saying, Ludo was really pleased with how the stadiums came out. He hinted a lot over the summer that his Department would from now on work with the Tower for any future projects like the World Cup. It was flattering, but ultimately I wasn't really looking forward to any more Quidditch projects - " she ignored Coco's affronted gasp, " – but it turns out that isn't all Ludo's been planning. His people and the people in the Department of International Magical Co-operation are one signature away from bringing back the Triwizard Tournament!"

"What?" said Corvus and Sirius at once.

"Didn't they stop having the Tournament because the death toll rose too high?" asked Sirius.

"Yup, that's why the Heads of Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts, along with the Ministry of Magic obviously, agreed there should be an age restriction on contenders," she smiled. "And Ludo says they've had a hell of time working over the summer to ensure that this time, no contender will be placed in mortal danger."

"What's the age limit?" Corvus asked his mother, looking very keen. Both she and Sirius smirked over at him.

"They're only allowing seventeen year olds to compete, sweetheart," Leandra broke the news.

"What's the prize?" asked Sirius.

"What besides the Triwizard Cup and the glory of your school?" Leandra laughed. "Oh nothing much else… just a thousand Galleons…"

Corvus groaned. "That's not fair, everyone should have a chance to compete."

"Even the first years?" Sirius challenged.

"First-years don't count," he grumbled.

"So, Ludo wants me personally overseeing the gaming sites," his mother said happily. "That means I'll be visiting Hogwarts quite a bit, Corvy. I'll be able to meet up with you, maybe even meet all your friends finally."

"You'll meet them when we go the Final Match," he reminded her. "Louis's father works for the Nimbus Racing Broom Company."

"Oh right, he designed the Firebolt, didn't he?"

Corvus nodded.

"You know the designer of the Firebolt?" Sirius was astonished. "Does your friend have his own then?"

"No, his father's promised him one only if he gets three Outstandings in his NEWTs," Corvus replied pointedly. "Louis doesn't get glamorous gifts for doing nothing."

Sirius frowned.

"Still, if I'm around Hogwarts I'll be able to keep up with you," Leandra smiled, redirecting the conversation. "Merlin knows I have to twist your arm to write me letters regularly."

"What she means, Corv, is that this way she can give your next girlfriend a seal of approval," Sirius muttered nonchalantly. Last year while Sirius was lurking about Hogwarts disguised as a dog, he came across Corvus a few times. Twice he saw him with his ex-girlfriend Morag MacDougal.

"Shut up."

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I won't be stalking you on your first date with anyone," his mother assured him.

"I didn't know it was a date until they started snoggin – "

"We weren't doing that!" His mother was trying to hide her face while she shook silently with laughter. Sirius was grinning at his nephew. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Corvy, don't be angry," his mother said once most of her smirk was gone. "It's perfectly normal for you to start, you know, taking an interest in girls."

"I think MacDougal might've put me off them for now," Corvus mumbled. MacDougal had been obsessive and frightening, to say the very least.

"Surely she was nice at the beginning," said Leandra.

"You just made the rookie mistake of going for looks alone, Corv," said Sirius wisely. "A lot of guys do that, they see a pretty girl and they don't see the light of day for months."

"Yes," his mother interrupted, her eyebrow rose at Sirius, "he should have plenty of advice to give you. He had many, many girls falling over themselves for him."

"Not many, many girls! And you can ask Lupin, I only had three girlfriends," he retorted. "And that's including you."

For a moment his mother's eyes fluttered, but then she grinned, "But you weren't shy when it came to girls."

"I never saw the point in being shy about anything," he said simply.

They were looking at each other in that way again. With twinkling eyes and a smile grin. Corvus decided to call it a day, "I'm going to… take a shower."

XXX

Student: Anwar Sadat Rajan, Slytherin… 11 December 1990

Incident: Ambushed Prof. Quirell's Muggle Studies class when he strapped a strip of Dungbombs to
a wind-up toy car and sent it into the classroom after lighting the wick.

Punishment: Month's detention, starting with Rajan cleaning Quirell's classroom. NO MAGIC

Authorized by: A. Filch

XXX

He didn't take a shower, but he kept to his room. Their summerhouse was a simple single storey house. From the outside it looked ancient, rotten and condemned. But thanks to his mother's expertise, the inside was cozy and handsome. There were three bedrooms, one bathroom and a kitchen.

To calm down from another day watching his mother grow closer to Sirius, Corvus decided to focus his mind on business. He sent a letter out to all the Salesmen about the Triward Tournament, telling them they needed to start brainstorming how they can profit from the event. Corvus felt this tournament had the potential of being as profitable as the Chamber of Secrets had been.

He also mentioned how he felt that they should have a prank planned out to pull on their former Salesmen member, Jeremy 'Pretzel' Petzold. That would just be for fun, and it might be a nice way to get their new member, Daphne Greengrass, into the swing of things.

After writing the letters, he still felt restless. Corvus pulled out his photo-album. His mother had given him this album last summer. It contained pictures of him when he was a baby and when most of his family was still alive – including his father.

There was a picture of his grandparents, Dante and Lolita Stirling – Corvus was two years old, sitting on his grandfather's lap holding a white bunny rabbit. They would always be laughing and smiling in the magical photograph.

There was a picture of Corvus with his mother's aunt, Flora Bones and her husband Edgar with their three children.

Ascanius Stirling had killed them all.

And then there was his most favorite picture of all. It was taken a few hours after his mother had given birth to him. Corvus was bundled up and held between his mother and father in bed. His mother's dark copper hair was held loosely back, with plenty of pieces stuck to her sweaty face. She looked exhausted but happy. His father looked like he'd been through a windstorm, it was the one picture Corvus had where his hair looked truly unkempt. In all the others he had it combed back.

He liked studying pictures of his father.

He wondered if his mother thought about him as much as Corvus did lately.

XXX

Daphne Greengrass,

Compartment E, one o'clock.
Come alone.If anyone follows you, we will not meet with you.
We will assume you've tried to double-cross us. And you will regret it.

XXX

Leandra was mixing the cake batter while Sirius worked on the icing. He kept looking over at the direction to Corvus's bedroom. "You know he's telling his friends about the Tournament. They probably want to plan something for it."

"Something sinister?" she cocked an eyebrow, playfully.

He shrugged. "Something fun, something for the Salesmen."

She snickered. "Don't give me that look. He's got his gang of friends just like you had in Hogwarts. It's just his way of having fun, and I've never got a letter sent home saying they hurt anyone because of it."

Sirius didn't comment on that. When he was hiding out at Hogwarts disguised as Padfoot, he'd seen a lot of the Salesmen. He knew a lot more about Leandra's son's extracurricular activities. "But you told him about the Tournament know…"

"I figured he needed something to get excited over," she replied.

"Yeah lately he's only been dreading things… like seeing me in the morning," Sirius mumbled. Leandra laughed.

"Stop it, he's warming up to you." She poured the cake batter into the pan. "But you know… maybe you should try to cut back with talking about Harry."

"I don't understand why," he said. "I thought he liked Harry. He helped him and Hermione rescue you me at Hogwarts. They worked really well together."

Leandra gave him a small smile, "He's a teenage boy, there's nothing we can do about it."

XXX

Whoever appeals to the law against his fellow Salesmen is either a fool or a coward. Whoever is caught by the law and squeals to save his own hide, is both.
It is dastardly and contemptible to betray the name of another Salesmen. If someone wishes to step down from the duties of being a Salesman or should a Salesman be cast from the fold,
they must still obey to the Code of Silence and he cannot seek revenge by exposing the secrets of Salazar's Salesmen.

Should any disobey these words, expect the most excruciating and damageable magical consequences to befall you. You're mind and body will be victimized beyond mercy.

Signing your name binds you to these words;

x. Corvus D. Blackstonex.
x. Maxwell Lovex.
R. Vaiseyx.
x. J. R. Petzold-Newstark
x. Anwar Rajan
x. Daphne Greengrass

XXX

The Squib was feeling jittery. She'd come to Albania like he'd asked. At the beginning of the summer he'd found her in Romania. Told her she had a chance to help the Dark Lord. She gave him all the money he needed, all the supplies, she even drove him to the capital of Albania. And it had been weeks, since she heard word of him, she was beginning to get scared.

Before Eros Stirling committed suicide, he funded a grand project in Berlin. A second Tower was to be built. There were many Stirlings left in Eastern Europe, very distant relatives of those in England. Eros put Leandra in charge of overseeing its establishment. When she had to return to London as Madam Crafter, she put Brutus Stirling in charge of the Berlin Tower.

And when Leandra returned a few months later to Berlin to elope with Regulus Black, Brutus was at her wedding. Also at the wedding was Métis Stirling, Brutus's forgotten Squib daughter who Leandra and Regulus took in to work as their nanny for Corvus. Then on March 12 1981 Métis betrayed Leandra to Ascanius.

Métis was the Squib that was feeling jittery. She was a very tall woman, taller than Leandra and painfully skinny. Her grayish blonde hair was long and braided so strictly that it looked like robe down her boney back.

She was waiting at a wayside inn. If she went over to the windows she could see an expanse of thick, dark forest. Finally the inn's door open. A short, rather round man entered, wearing a black traveler's cloak. Métis stood up at once.

"Oh Mr. Petti-"

Peter Pettigrew shushed her fretfully. His watery, small eyes searched the inn. Métis kept rubbing her boney hands together anxiously.

"Well, is it – is it done?"

"Everything is set," he told her in a hush voice. Metis felt a great relief. "But," he added quickly, "it won't happen yet. The Dark Lord doesn't need him yet, he-he has another servant, one that is already placed… closer," he explained ineloquently.

"But he is the Dark Lord's most willing servant," she pleaded. "Please do not let him rot in Nuremgard any longer, please let him serve his lord again."

"I said not yet," he squeaked. "But the Dark Lord will want him soon."

...

...

A/N It took me FOREVER to figure out how to start this fic, I hope it read well and those who aren't familiar with the characters/story understood what was happening. I still have background-tidbits to explain but those will be explained in later chapters. I want this fic to move quickly so we can get to Hogwarts! Next chapter will be up Sunday, it will include.... Maxwell Love... the Stirling Tower... Umbridge...