The chamber was blood red, large, circular, and it pounded to a drumbeat that seemed to come from the very air that they breathed; 'they' being the eight people kneeling in a circle in the centre of the room, evenly spaced apart, chanting a low baseline that spoke of insanity, murder, bloodshed, death, destruction...

A ninth person was walking behind them, slowly circling the eight, with a knife in his tense hand, and a tenth was chanting a melody to compliment the baseline, a melody that spoke of rapture and forbidden pleasure…

And then the ninth person sliced his knife through the flesh of the eight, one by one, the blood dripping down, and flowing into the centre of the circle. The circle members held out their arms, as the chanting intensified, and then, with a cry, the ninth person stabbed one, who screamed with joy, and then expired. A second followed, then a third, and soon all the coven had died, save the chanter and the knifer.

"We beseech you," the chanter said, "oh great pleasure God, come among us. We beseech you, Lord of Change, come among us. We beseech you, Blood God come among us. We beseech you, Father Nurgle, come among us…"

And he raised his arms and screamed his plea to the heavens.

"In the name of Chaos Undivided – Come among US NOW!"

Nothing happened for a long moment, and the knifer looked edgy; the chanter kept his arms aloft, for a long moment. Then he looked at the expired circle.

"It comes," he smiled. The knifer looked at the circle, whose blood had pooled, and saw, with a smile gracing his lips as he did so, that the Eight Pointed Cirlcle of Chaos had formed. It glowed bright for a long moment, and then faded. The knifer stopped smiling.

"Was that it?" he asked his friend.

"Patience, Gregory," Vincent Crabbe smiled, coming beside his friend. "They will come. Watch and wait."

"I'm sick of waiting," Gregory Goyle snarled. "Serving that arsehole Malfoy and that stinking falsehood…"

"Calm," Vincent smiled, still. "We will not have too long to wait. It has," he finished, looking at the blood, "already begun."

He laughed, and the two of them left the room of requirement and their Muggle victims.

The Eight Pointed Star remained still and dim, but there was something else in the room.

A heartbeat. Pounding.