The fog drifted across the tombstones
Covering the full moon
A circle of hooded figures gathered in the graveyard. There were several gapes in the circle. I man strode out from behind the statue that the circle ringed around. His features were virtually invisible in the moonlight, and only his silhouette was visible. He raised his arms, his robes billowing around him. One by one, the hooded figures knelt. All but one. The one directly to his right. He noticed this. He turns and nods at the figure. The figure advances. She takes her place at her masters side. He reaches for something in the depths of his robes.
There is a long mournful howl in the distance. Not close, but something about it makes the entire gathering pause. As if remembering the way that things had once been long ago. Before they held dominion over all that they do now.
As he approaches the statue, his hood falls back.
In the middle of the gathering is a huge angle of stone, with the gruesome face of a skull. The only words that indicate who lies beneath are, "TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE."
His face is clearly visible in the light of the moon now. Young with handsome feature, dark curly hair. The only thing that indicates what might be happening is the reddish, menacing glow in his eyes. He approaches the statue.
A boy is trapped there. Young, maybe 15 years of age. Dark hair, bright eyes. A moan of pain escapes his lips, and the woman behind the dark lord gives a short derisive laugh. It is quickly joined in by the laughter of her sister, Erin. Soon, the graveyard echoes with the cackles of the death eaters. Tom's lips pull up into a smirk, but he doesn't allow himself anymore victory then that. He has been very careful. He couldn't allow himself to make the same mistake that he had almost made with that boy in the chamber of secrets. "the boy who lived" hah. Well, that delusion was long over. He turned his attention back to the young man held captive by the statue. The chosen one would die tonight. "Neville Longbottom," whispered the dark lord.