You all know the story. Harry Potter destroys all of Tom Riddle's Horcruxes, kills Lord Voldemort and saves the day.
But what about the others? Those miserable scummy, little brats that everybody seemed to have forgotten about?
The Death Eaters?
They may not be as terrifying as Voldemort, but they are just as dangerous. But guess who had to get rid of them?
That's right. Me. Scrawny little black-haired Logan Chambers.
Let's begin.
It was late at night. Moonlight seemed to stretch on through the loud streets of London. But something was different. Everything seemed to be quiet; too quiet. London was popular, cars constantly running through it. But not now. Now, you could hear a fly buzzing in the next street over. It wasn't right.
Then, there was a noise. A noise that seemed to drift all the way down into the Underground.
Whoosh, whoosh.
Two people had appeared out of nowhere.
One, Minerva McGonagall.
Two, Nicholas Jenkins.
It was Nicholas Jenkins first day on the job. He was 24, and had never done anything like this job before, aside from work experience at Durmstrang.
Minerva McGonagall, however, had done this before. She was holding a baby, wrapped in a blanket, who looked like he had just been cut several times by a sword.
He hadn't, of course, but something very close.
'Mr Jenkins, walk with me,' Minerva whispered, ushering Jenkins towards the front door of Number Thirteen, Fernic Circuit.
'This baby was almost killed after a close encounter with a Death Eater. His father, Dominic Chambers was an alcoholic Death Eater, who cast the killing curse on his wife, Genevieve, two months after this baby was born. Tonight, he was murdered by another Death Eater for unknown reasons, and this child, Logan Chambers, was the only one who escaped,' Minerva placed the baby slowly on the doorstep.
'But,' Minerva continued, dropping her voice lower. 'No one knows what will become of him.'
Jenkins had finally been sure he could trust his voice not to tremble. 'This baby…what…? What do you…mean "What will become of him"?'
'This baby…will be a danger.' McGonagall exhaled slowly. Jenkins rubbed his hands against his face twice.
And then they disapparated.