Dissclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, I'm not nearly talented enough to make something of my own out, I mearly use the talents of others to occupy myself on a Sunday morning.
Introduction:
The body hung suspended by invisible strings like a macabre puppet. It's robes stained red. It's limbs limp. It's glasses fell to the floor where the man with the wand stood on them.
The Man was snake-like, grey-skinned and slit eyed. He observed the crowds of people in front of him. What was left of his nose wrinkles with discussed as though the robes figures where rodents crawling from the sewers to stream across the grounds.
He stooped down and picked up the glasses smashed on the floor,
"The boy who lived." he sneered. He closed his thin fingers around the glasses and felt them snap in two. He arranged his face into what he hoped was an inviting smile (the effect on his mutilated face was in fact the total opposite) and turned to the witches ad wizards before him. "Harry Potter is dead," he announced "and now I give all those who fought for him a choice. A chance. Lord Voldemort is a merciful Lord. Join me. Fight with me. Step forward now and accept my forgiveness."
He paused, his arms outstretched in welcome, but nobody moved. The smile in Lord Voldemort's face fell into a grimace of impatience. The masked Death Eaters behind him hissed and took a step forward.
"Kill them my Lord!" One whispered, "Scum!" jeered another, "Mudbloods and traitors!"
Voldemort raised a hand and silence fell immediately among his followers.
"Join me." he whispered, his voice a deep menacing hiss. "Or die. You have one hour to make your choice." As he finished talking the Death Eaters raised their wands and an invisible rope seemed to tighten around the crowd, binding them together and herding them like cattle past the destroyed grounds and into the rubble that was Hogwarts castle.
From the side of the crowd, a shape-eyed tabby cat slunk silently from the roped and hid behind the stones to watch the spectacle.