Chapter I- The Beginning Of the End

Hurry up, Snape, we haven't got all day.

I twiddled my thumbs absently, staring up at the suspended corpse with a subdued sort of fascination. I recognized her as Charity Burbage, teacher for Muggle Studies. I'd never liked the subject much- Muggles were awfully boring, in my opinion- and seeing the teacher suspended in the air, obviously there for some sinister plot unfolding, didn't bug me much.

The Dark Lord was quiet, stroking the head of that foul snake of his. Greyback shifted beside me, obviously as antsy as I was. My chest and throat were burning slightly, kind of like how you wake up in the morning in desperate need of something to drink.

And that was exactly it- I hadn't had a drink in a week now. Being a vampire wasn't exactly the funnest thing in the world. The excruciating pain in the sunlight, the constant need to drain random people, and not to mention exile from the normal Wizarding population made my life a living hell.

I'd started traveling with Greyback and his cronies a few months after I'd graduated from Hogwarts. People didn't expect much of me- I'd come out of school with an Outstanding in Potions and Exceeds Expectations in everything else. And I hadn't gotten that Outstanding till Slughorn took the job, either. I loathed Snape, and I was pretty sure he didn't exactly love me either.

"Yaxley. Snape." The Dark Lord said in that high, clear voice of his. "You are very nearly late."

No shit, Noseless Wonder.

"Severus-" the Dark Lord pointed to the seat next to him on the right, then indicated the seat beside Dolohov, across from me. "Yaxley- beside Dolohov."

The men took their allotted places, and I took to examining my nails.

"So?"

"My Lord, the Order of the Pheonix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall." Snape let some hair fall over his eyes. "Saturday...at nightfall." Voldemort repeated, having what appeared to me as a staring contest with Snape.

"Good. Very good. And this information comes...?"

"From the source we discussed."

"My Lord." Yaxley interrupted. I looked up at him, the stabbing pain in my throat intensifying as I focused on a human.

"My Lord, I have heard differently." Yaxley said in his most sycophantic tone, and continued when Voldemort did not reply.

"Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy turns seventeen."

Snape was smiling by then. "My sources told me there are plans to lay a false trail; this must be it. No doubt a Confundus Charm has been placed upon Dawlish. It would not be the first time; he is known to be quite susceptible." Snape's tone was smug.

"I assure you, My Lord, he seemed quite certain." Yaxley snapped, irritated now.

"If he has been Confunded, naturally he is certain. I assure you, Yaxley, the Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. The Order brlieves that we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"Order's got one thing right, then, eh?" a squat Death Eater whose name I couldn't recall cackled. I chuckled, and, from the low vibration coming from Greyback's chest, I assumed he had, too.

Voldemort didn't laugh, however, only looked up at Burbage.

"Dawlish believes an entire party of Aurors will be used to transfer the boy-" Yaxley began, but Voldemort silenced him with a finger. "Where are they going to hide the boy next?"

"At the home of one of the Order. This place, according to the source, has been given every protection that the Order and Ministry together could provide. I think there is little chance of taking him once he is there, my Lord, unless, of course, the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to discover and undo enough of the enchantments to break through the rest."

Damn, Snape was good at droning on.

"Well, Yaxley?" ill-humor illuminated Voldemort's eyes. "Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?"

Yaxley cleared his throat and said proudly, "My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have- with difficulty, and after great effort- succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse."

There was a general murmur of impressed people- Dolohov clapped the stout man on the back, and I clapped a few times out of general tact.

"It is a start." Voldemort murmured. "But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way."

"Yes, My Lord, that is true, but you know Thicknesse has regular contact not only with the Minister himself, but also with the Heads of all the other Ministry departments. I think it will be easy now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the others, and then they can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down." Yaxley piped up.

"As long as our friend Thicknesse is not discovered before he has converted the rest," Voldemort said thoughtfully, "At any rate, it remains unlikely that the Ministry will be mine before next Saturday."

Again, Voldemort looked up at the slowly revolving body with a fascinated expression. "I shall attend to the boy in person. There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumph."

I watched Voldemort apphrehensively, and he spoke again. "I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be."

A wail of pain and terror pierced the silence that followed his words. Burbage had cried out, for whatever goddamn reason, and for some reason, that irritated me.

"Wormtail. Have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?" Voldemort snapped.

Peter Pettigrew, a short, mousy man, squeaked, "Yes, m-my Lord." and scrambled from the room, perhaps to fetch his wand.

"As I was saying," Voldemort said irritatedly, "I shall need to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter.'

I secured my wand in my belt loop, covering it with my coat.

"No volunteers?" Voldemort smirked. "Let's see...Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore."

Lucius Malfoy looked up, his face waxy and gaunt. "M'Lord?" he whispered, barely audible.

"Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand."

"I..." he looked over at Narcissa, who nodded quickly. He produced his wand and passed it along the table to Voldemort, who fingered it as if it were his own.

"What is it?"

"Elm."

"And the core?"

"Dragon heartstring, My Lord."

Draco was gazing up at the body, a disgruntled expression on his face. I smirked over at him, but he didn't see me.

Wormtail returned then with a wand, and Burbage spoke.

"S-Severus..." she pleaded, looking into the unfathomable man's eyes. "Severus, please..."

Voldemort pointed his wand at the woman and said calmly, "Avada Kedavra."

Charity Burbage fell to the table with a groan from the table. I instinctively slid back several inches, and noted I wasn't the only one. Draco was now sitting on the floor.

Eerily, like a ribbon, the giant snake slid onto the table towards the woman.

"Dinner, Nagini." Voldemort stroked his snake with a long white finger as it went by once more.

a/n:

first sequel. i really don't know how i'm going to do with this.

I'M BEGGING YOUUUUU: if Akaisha's a Mary-Sue, TELL MEEE. I know the whole vampire thing screws up any chance of her being decent, i guess, but i'm trying not to make her like Meyer's pansies.

And i did say I'd post this when it was done, but i changed my mind. :P
review and you get a virtual cookie! :D