"Selwyn, why have you called me here, meetings are so dangerous since the dark lord perished, every auror at the ministry is look for death eaters!" Travers hissed into the night as he watched Selwyn whisper enchantments of protection around the dark, muggle alleyway.
"Hush, I need to concentrate!" He said threateningly. The pair stood in silence until Selwyn returned his wand to his pocket.
"So why have you called me here?" Travers hissed once more.
"I know a way to bring back the dark lord, a way we can win the war passed and a way we can rule the world by his side!"
"You're a fool Selwyn, there is no way, Harry Potter has won, there is nothing we can do, there is no way to re-enter the past, even time turners powers are limited!"
"But I have found a way, I have communed with the most ancient of spirits and I have a way to turn back time and right past wrongs!" Selwyn laughed joyously.
"There is no way! Surely you have been deceived!" Travers said in disbelief.
"I assure you I have not and I have already made the necessary preparations!"
"What preparations?"
"Seven is the most magically powerful number, is it not" Selwyn responded, a sly smile creeping across his face.
"It is… get to the point Selwyn!" Travers said through gritted teeth.
"In exchange for the spirits to transport us, back and forward in time I had to make seven hundred and seventy seven sacrifices!" Selwyn laughed. Travers stepped back slightly. He was a death eater and had killed many but this was an absolute slaughter. He quickly attempted to hide his disgust, knowing it was a weakness and secretly wishing he had Selwyn's strength and ability to kill so easily.
"Let's just say you're right, so we're going to go back in time and will kill Harry Potter as an infant?"
"Alas the spirits are not able to grant us that power, if we kill someone in the past, we die ourselves, it is their way of keeping balance, apparently," He spoke apathetically.
"Then this was a waste of time! How will we aid the dark lord if we do not kill the boy?"
"We must go to the ministry of magic and we will destroy all records of young wizards of Harry Potter's year, Potter will remain uneducated and will not be able to defeat the dark lord when the time comes,"
"This will not work, Selwyn, Dumbledore will know of the boy and will ensure his place at Hogwarts,"
"That is why we will obliviate Potter and his guardians and convince them to disappear and go into hiding!" Selwyn laughed wickedly.
"That may actually work… But still, a lot could go wrong," Travers spoke.
"We stand nothing to lose, even if we fail we will be no worse off than we are now, I do not want to spend the rest of my life so powerless in hiding"
"I suppose you are right." Travers finally agreed.
"Then appartate with me now and we will contact the spirits, together," Selwyn held out his arm for Travers to take. Travers looked at it and hesitantly placed his hand on it.
With a crack, they both disappeared into the night.
When they reappeared they were standing in a dark room filled with dead bodies, seven hundred and seventy seven to be precise, more than Travers had seen in his entire lifetime. He gasped, though he had killed many before he couldn't believe just how many bodies lay before him.
Suddenly, the smell hit him. He recoiled and began vomiting as the putrid smell violated his being. Selwyn, however, was quite unaffected. He stood smiling, obviously used to the smell.
"Get on with it then, I can't take this much longer!" Travers choked out before vomiting again. Travers laughed madly before raising his hands in the air and chanting in an ancient language.
Travers watched in awe as the blood of many began to rise into the air and swirl in circles. The blood turned from deep red to black and it slowly swirled around the pair. Travers was to terrified to be sick again and simply fell to the ground. Never had he felt the fear that engaged him now. Ten minutes ago he stood angry in an alleyway and now he was turning back in time. The blood swirled until only darkness surrounded them.
There were flashes of hot and cold as the seasons changed. They felt the stone floor disappear, being unbuilt so that they were left in a large grass field. As suddenly as the process began, the blood dropped to the floor, and there they sat, nine years in the past, preparing to attempt the most inconceivable and convoluted plan in history. They were almost certain to fail but that slither of chance they might make it made it worthwhile.
They would work harder than they had ever worked in their entire life.