This all happens 5 years after Harry graduates from Hogwarts.
The Reign Of The Dark King
"Attention all muggles. Attention all muggles. A curfew has been put into effect. Go back to you house and bow your heads as your new lord resides over this town."
A bulky wizard in a trench coat holding a microphone and a wand shouted orders to the panicking pedestrians of London. He had already killed 3 people and their corpses lay mangled on the sidewalk next to him. It seemed that nobody knew anything but to get out of his way. He snickered at a third story window where lord Voldemort, fully recovered, sat in a high backed executive chair.
"Muggle governments are so corruptible." Said Voldemort. "Why all it took was 17,000 pounds and some bourbon to give to the prime minister and I was high on his friends list. It was so easy it almost took the fun out of it. Oh well. At least I can now call myself the ruler of my first town. And this time I do not just rule by fear. I rule by fear, power, and for the first time ever, the law. Life doesn't get much better than this does it Pettigrew."
"No it sure doesn't lord. No way it could be better master. Nope, never." Muttered the rat. Voldemort had become very accustomed to calling him the rat when he didn't perform at expectation. It was easy for this to happen because Pettigrew still acted like a rat sometimes. He always hid in a corner when other humans came around and he was always trying to find scraps of food. He looked less like a rat that he used to but that was because of the constant beating that he received from his master. His skin was red and had lost the ability to grow hair. His two long front teeth had been knocked out in a tussle with a dog and he was always hunched over.
"Now fetch me some water," Voldemort barked. "Yes master," mumbled Pettigrew as he scurried away. "Ah," sighed voldemort. "This is truly the perfect city to run a world from. But first I need to get me the world."
His original plan was to force all of London to fight other countries for him but he eventually learned that 32 measly followers with wands didn't match up to thousands of angry citizens with guns. But nonetheless. He had become Prime Minister.
"Pettigrew!!" He roared. "Where is my water?!"
"Right here sir. Have at it master. Do you need anything else?" Pettigrew cringed as he spoke. "Yes," said Voldemort, "a servant that can follow orders in a timely fash-" A gunshot rang out from the street below his window. As Voldemort looked down a hatred so deep came over him. The bulky man in a trench coat was dead. The street corner was deserted but the man was dead.
"I don't need a city of worthless peasants to do my bidding!! They just keep killing my followers!"
"Sir I can recruit mor-aaaaaahhhhhh. Please don't hit me sir."
"Why what a great idea." Exclaimed Voldemort.
"Really, I mean of course it is," said Pettigrew obviously proud of himself for finding a solution to a hard dilemma.
"Not you bumbling idiot. But you can go kill the shooter that killed my man on the street. You will do that wont you. WONT YOU."
"What. OH. Yes sir. Right away."
As Pettigrew emerged onto the street another gunshot rang out. In the brick behind him a hold as round as a marble appeared.
Obviously in mental shock the rat did not move. But another shot brought him to his senses. He immediately ran for cover.
"Dang I need to work on my shot," said Ron as he tried to load another bullet into his old hunting rifle.
"No what you need is a new wand," said Harry.
"No, a sense of aim is what he needs. I still don't see why you don't get another gun. You have had that one since you broke your wand in the last year of school. Was it really that traumatizing?" Said Hermione.
"I like this gun and yes it was traumatizing," Shouted Ron. "Being half eaten by spiders is cause for trauma. Why I almost lost a leg,"
"Almost is the key word in that sentence." Explained Harry. "Anyway you are a lousy shot."
"I killed that other guy. And I almost hit him didn't I?"
"Once again almost is the key word." Said Harry, annoyed that Ron couldn't understand the meaning of the word. "We really need to buy you a dictionary."
"Well we would if we had any money. It's hard to get money enough for food when you are fugitives on the run from a newly appointed dictator and you are fighting for a losing cause. I believe in what we are fighting for but I don't think this war is winnable," Sighed Hermione.
"We will win. We just need a big push to get us in the right direction. I don't know where this push will come from cut we will get a push. No! A shove. I don't care how long it takes but we will not give up on this war," Harry was ranting again. After Dumbledore died his personality changed drastically. He now would do anything to help the ministry, Hogwarts, or any of his old teachers and friends. His laughs were few and rare and he smiled only when something was truly happy.
"Well let's get down from here," said Ron. "They have probably located our position by now."
"Ok in just a second. Let me see your gun Ron. I need to see how badly I can scare this Pettigrew guy.
Harry aimed shot and hit Pettigrew right on his steel hand.
"That will keep him away from this building for awhile. At least long enough for us to escape," Harry said, satisfied at his handiwork.
"Holy cripes," shouted the rat as the bullet reverberated of his artificially produced magic-steel hand. This sent him running and cussing all through the city.
He checked all alleys for the 3 friends but he never thought to look on the rooftops, which is where they spent much of their time.