Disclaimer: I forgot this last time. I do not own Harry Potter. Otherwise, I would not be writing this.

"Vat do you vant?" snarled a heavily accented voice. An old, bent woman had stumbled into the home of the person the voice belonged to. The haggard woman opened her mouth, but instead of a normal voice, a deep, rasping, haunted voice issued from her mouth.

"Born in the dead of vinter, a new vizard vill have the power to vanquish the evil rising in the far reaches of the north. The son of the Champion vill come, and defeat all those who escaped his sire's wrath. All those connected, bevare!" The woman shuddered, and looked around herself, confused.

"Vhere am I?" she said dazedly, now in a normal tone. She turned and hobbled out of the man's abode, laving the thick-eyebrowed man wide-eyed. Once over the initial shock, he dashed over to his fireplace and threw a handful of green powder into it. It burst into flames and he shouted "The Dungeons." His head went spinning into a familiar house's fireplace.

"Lestrange? Lestrange! Get Dolohov and Mulciber and get over here right avay! Ve have a problem!" he snarled evilly. The face in front of the foreboding man nodded confusedly.

"Yes Master. Right away." Mercutio Lestrange did not have the same accent as his master, and it was the same with Tybalt Dolohov and Sebastian Mulciber. The three of them had fled to Kiev from London exactly seventeen years previously to the day when Voldemort had been ripped from his body because of the damned Potter baby. They did not want to betray their previous Master, because they knew of his secret, his Horcruxes. It wasn't until four years previously that they had met their new Master. He was nothing like they had ever seen before. He was powerful, enough so to rival the Dark Lord. They quickly came to fear him, but Lestrange couldn't help but be curious to know what his Master seemed so angered about. He quickly fetched Dolohov and Mulciber and they Flooed over to their Master home. When they got there, he was sitting in a stiff-backed armchair in his study.

"No doubt you are vondering vat I called you here about," he said quietly, but they could still hear the menace in his voice. "I vas sitting here, enjoying my meal, vhen an old woman stumbled in the front door. A Seer. She prophesied about the son of the famous Harry Potter and do you know vat she said?" They three men shook their heads furiously, terrified. Their master stood up and turned to face them.

"She said that he vould be THE ONLY ONE ABLE TO DESTROY US!" His voice rose to a shout and his three minions stumbled back, cowering in fear. "ALL VE HAVE VORKED FOR, ALL VE HAVE STRIVEN FOR, VILL COME TO AN END BECAUSE OF HIS SON!" Lestrange, Dolohov, and Mulciber were quaking in their boots and looked ready to run screaming out of the room but didn't, or they knew if they did they would instantly be killed. Their master turned back to fireplace cursing. Lestrange, Mulciber and Dolohov took that moment to cast terrified glances at each other. They did not know how long it would take for this son of damned Harry Potter to show up, but when he did, they would have to be ready. The same anxious thought was running through each of their heads.

This is going to be a long night.

A/N: I know, a really sad attempt at a Russian accent! Would, once again, appreciate reviews!