The snake slithered silently through the cold damp grass. Passing between the old, worn and long since abandoned gravestones it also passed a crumbling and gloomy gate house, which stood right besides the graveyard. If the graves and gatehouse looked grim they looked positively new compared to the mansion that stood on the hill behind them. Once a fine looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, it now stood damp, derelict and unoccupied as for twenty years it had been left very much to itself.
In fact the only sign of life ever seen around the entire property consisted of the elderly grounds keeper Bryce, who lived in the gatehouse for as long as any of the residents of the nearby village had known and had stayed on long after the last residents and staff had gone as he continued to try and keep the land and house maintained. But it was a losing battle as Bryce, now approaching his seventy-seventh birthday and with a bad leg crippled with arthritis, couldn't keep up with the growing levels of weeds and disrepair.
The state of the gardens and crumbling brickwork, however, were not the only thing Bryce had to contend with as boys from the nearby village had made a habit of throwing stones through the windows of the mansion and even once or twice broken into the building for dares. They knew that Bryce was devoted to the house and it's gardens, and it amused them to see him limping across the garden, brandishing his walking stick and yelling croakily at them.
So when Bryce awoke one late summer night, and saw something very odd up at the old manor, he merely assumed that the boys had gone one stop further in their attempts to punish him.
It had been Bryce's bad leg that woke him; it was paining him worse than ever in his old age. He got up and limped downstairs into the kitchen, with the idea of re-filling his hot-water bottle to ease the stiffness in his knee. Standing at the sink, filling the water-bottle, which had built in heating crystals to instantly warm the water, he happened to look up at the mansion and saw lights glimmering in its upper windows. Bryce knew at once what was going on. The boys from the village had broken into the manor again, and judging by the flickering quality of the light, they had started a fire.
Slamming the water-bottle down with despair, hurried back upstairs as fast as his bad leg would allow, and was soon back in kitchen, fully dressed and removing a rusty old key from its hook by the door. He picked up his walking stick, which was propped against the wall, and opened the door.
"Ruddy kids!" He muttered as he slammed it behind him.
The front door of the mansion bore no sign of a forced entry, nor did any of the windows. Bryce limped around to the back of the manor until he reached a door almost completely hidden by ivy, which had grown all over the mansion over the years, took out the old key, put it in the lock and opened the creaking door.
He had let himself into the cavernous kitchen. Bryce had not entered it for quite a few years; nevertheless, although it was very dark, he remembered where the door into the hall was, and felt his way towards it, the smell of decay filling his nostrils, his ears pricked for and sound of footsteps or voices from overhead.
Reaching the hall he started to climb the stairs, grateful for once of the layer of dust which lay thick all over as it muffled the sound of his feet and stick.
On the landing, Bryce turned right, and saw at once where the intruders were. At the every end of the passage a door stood ajar, and a flickering light shone through the gap, casting a long sliver of gold across the black floor. Bryce edged closer and closer, he was able to see a narrow slice of the room beyond. The fire, he now saw, had been lit in the grate. This surprised him. Then he stopped moving and listened intently, for a woman's voice spoke within the room; it sounded hushed, urgent and deadly.
"Where is Nagini?" The high-pitched and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind voice said. Something about that voice made the sparse hairs on the back of Bryce's neck stand up.
"I - I don't know, Master," A man's voice then spoke in a timid and fearful tone. "She set out to explore the house, I think..." He added but then trailed of as it sounded as though he wanted to say something else.
"Master, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?" He asked.
"A week," said the cold voice. "Perhaps longer, the place is moderately comfortable and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over" The cold tone replied.
"The - the Quidditch World Cup, Master?" The man stuttered. "Forgive me, but - I do not understand - why should we wait until the World Cup is over?" He asked.
"Because, fool, at this very moment thousands of people will be gathering for it, meaning every meddler from the Ministry and Sky Knight Council will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities, they will be obsessed with security, so we wait" The woman snapped.
"You are still determined, Master?" The man asked quietly.
"Certainly I am determined, Petigrew" The woman replied, a note of menace in the cold voice. A slight pause followed before Petigrew spoke, the words tumbling from him in a rush, as though he was forcing himself to say this before he lost his nerve.
"Perhaps we were to do it without the boy, Master?" He asked. "I merely mean that if we were to use another of your enemies, the thing could be done so much more quickly" He rapidly explained himself.
"I could use another," Said the cold voice softly, "That is true..." She considered for a moment.
"Master, it makes sense," Said Petigrew, sounding thoroughly relieved now. "Laying hands on the Sky Knight would be so difficult, he is so well protected and..."
"No" The woman interrupted. For a few seconds, Bryce could hear nothing but the fire crackling. The woman spoke once more, in a whisper that was almost a hiss. "I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other, I have waited for over two years, a few more months will make no difference" She decided. "As for the protection surrounding the boy, I believe my plan will be effective, besides, I want my revenge" She spat darkly. It was then the Bryce heard footsteps from within the room.
"I will not allow the plan to fail Master" A third voice, a man's, young and confident, spoke.
"Good, but first gather our old comrades, send them a sign" The woman ordered, sounding more pleased with the presence of this man than she she had with Petigrew. Out in the corridor, Bryce suddenly became aware that the hand gripping his walking stick was slippery with sweat. The woman was talking about a plot involving an attack on a Sky Knight. She was dangerous, mad and appeared to have others willing to follow her plan. Bryce knew what he must do. Now, if ever, was the time to go and get someone to stop this woman and her plot. He would creep out of the house and head straight for the village. But the cold voice was speaking again, and Bryce remained where he was, frozen to the spot, listening with all his might. "Once my faithful servant is at Hogwarts the boy is as good as mine, it is decided" She said. "I think I hear Nagini..." She added before her voice changed as she started making noises such as Bryce had never heard before; he was hissing and spitting without drawing breath. Bryce thought she must be having some sort of fit or seizure. And then Bryce heard movement behind him in the dark passageway. He turned to look, and found himself paralysed with fright.
Something was slithering toward him along the dark corridor floor, and as it drew nearer to the sliver of firelight, he realized with a thrill of terror that it was a gigantic snake, at least twelve feet long. Horrified, transfixed, Bryce stared as its undulating body cut a wide, curving track through the thick dust on the floor, coming closer and closer - What was he to do? The only means of escape was into the room where the two men sat plotting murder, yet if he stayed where he was the snake would surely kill him. But before he had made his decision, the snake was level with him, and then, incredibly, miraculously, it was passing; it was following the spitting, hissing noises made by the cold voice beyond the door, and in seconds, the tip of its diamond-patterned tail had vanished through the gap. There was sweat on Bryce's forehead now, and the hand on the walking stick was trembling. Inside the room, the cold voice was continuing to hiss, and Frank was visited by a strange idea, an impossible idea...This woman could talk to snakes. Bryce didn't understand what was going on. He wanted more than anything to be back in his bed with his hot-water bottle. The problem was that his legs didn't seem to want to move. As he stood there shaking and trying to master himself, the cold voice switched abruptly to Atmosian again.
"Nagini has interesting news" She said.
"In-indeed, Master?" Said Petigrew.
"Indeed, yes," The woman replied, "According to Nagini, the old grounds keeper is standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say" She told him. Bryce didn't have a chance to hide himself. There were footsteps and then the door of the room was flung wide open. A short, balding man with greying hair, a pointed nose, and small, watery eyes stood before Bryce, a mixture of fear and alarm in his face. Bryce could now see the other man, tall, slim and young with a handsome face despite it being grubby and worm, too, kneeling besides an armchair which held a small and thin clocked figure that, Bryce guessed, must be the woman, though by the combination of the cloak and the angle of the chair he could not see her face. The snake was curled up on the rotting hearth rug, like some horrible travesty of a pet dog. "Step aside Petigrew so I can give our guest a proper greeting" The woman's voice was heard to say as Bryce saw a pale, almost white hand, appear from under her cloak as the woman drew out what at appeared to be nothing more than a stick of carved wood. But then, with a wave of horror, Bryce knew what the stick of wood in her hand could do. The last thing Bryce saw in his life was a bright green flash of light.
He was dead before he even hit the floor.