A few miles from Little Hangleton, a young dark-skinned woman watched the Dark Mark disappear from the sky. Her unholy red eyes twinkled, an older, staunchly-built man approaching her from behind.

"See? I told you…" the man said. "He's come back."

The woman turned, smiling at him in an almost patronizing way. "Don't tell me you're concerned. He didn't interfere last time. I say we let him do what he wants." She shrugged. "He can worry about humans, and we can worry about us."

"I think the others might want to take action this time, Yoru." The man addressed his younger companion.

"Well they're not here, are they?" Yoru spoke softly, before putting a finger to her lips. "Still…" she mused, "it might be fun to intervene." A wide smile formed on her face, pearly white fangs visible from the corners of her mouth. "Yes… I think I'll find out what's going on, and then maybe I'll have some fun…"

Tim Ihansha sat atop his motorbike, surveying the countryside as he traveled alongside the River Ness, the city Inverness in the distance. Although the scenery was absolutely beautiful, Tim refused to let himself be distracted by it. There was no way Tim was going to wait around like he'd done for the last four years. He was going to find Voldemort and kill him. Of course the problem was that he didn't even know where to start looking for him. Tim knew he was stronger than Voldemort, and that the dark wizard had no chance of defeating him on his own. That was why he'd fled, after all, and Tim would never forgive himself if he let any sort of momentum get away from him.

Tim's stomach rumbled as the flawless man remembered he hadn't eaten since lunch the last day of the Triwizard Tournament. If he wanted to keep his perfect body functioning correctly, he knew he needed to provide it with the proper fuel before continuing his search for Voldemort and his followers.

Tim turned around, greatly increasing his speed as he raced across the top of the River Ness, deciding to head into the city of Inverness to get something to eat. At the end of the river, Tim jumped with his motorbike over the side-railing, passing a stone wall and an unmarked building. Tim decided against going to one of the many restaurants he passed during his trek throughout the city. Instead, his eyes took to a little village shop tucked between a real estate office and a Burger King.

Tim pulled up outside the shop, killing his ignition and heading inside.

A middle-aged balding man stood behind the counter, and seemed very pleased by Tim's arrival. "Good morning!" He smiled.

"Yeah, hi. What currency do you use? Pounds? Dollars? Dollarydoos?" Tim asked.

"Pound sterling."

"So that's pounds, right?"

"Is this your first time in Scotland?"

"Well, Muggle Scotland, yeah…"

"I'm sorry? 'Muggle'?"

Tim pressed a hand to his face. "Oh, right! The whole secrecy thing! Never mind. Nah, never been to Scotland."

"Right… Well, what can I get you?"

"Just the protein powder, please." Tim requested, the shop keeper nodding, turning around and grabbing the massive container of protein powder on the shelf behind him and giving it to Tim.

"Thanks." Tim smiled, handing over the correct amount of money, before tearing off the seal, unscrewing the lid and pouring out all the protein powder onto the counter. Plugging one of his nostrils with his finger, he pressed his other nostril to the substance, and began to snort it, as though his nose had the suction power of an industrial vacuum.

Soon, all the protein powder had been snorted, and Tim slammed his hands down onto the counter. "Hot damn!" he shouted, a little bit of residue resting just above his lips. Tim leaned over the counter, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You wouldn't happen to know of anything shady going on around here, would you?"

"E-e-e-excuse me…?" the shop keeper asked, incredibly flustered. "Look, do you need me to call someone for you?"

"That's a 'no' then…" Tim mumbled, sighing and leaving the shop without another word.

As Tim left the shop, he put his hands to his hips and slowly looked around, watching as people went about their daily lives, totally oblivious to the forthcoming danger. Tim turned, inadvertently bumping into a man covered in black body gear. "Sorry…" the man apologized.

Tim twitched. "Watch it, punk!"

The man shook his head, and then continued on walking. Tim's nostrils flared, not at all liking being brushed aside. But that was when Tim noticed the man's clothing.

He was wearing all black, the upper chest and arm areas adorned with some sort of pattern, his shoulders broadened by some additional material as though a cape or a cloak was supposed to be attached. In fact, the more Tim stared at the man, the more it reminded him of his confrontation with Voldemort in the graveyard.

If Tim didn't know any better, he could have sworn the man was one of Voldemort's followers, but even if that was the case, he couldn't go and confront him in broad daylight, especially in the presence of other Muggles. So Tim decided to stay relatively out of sight, following behind the man at a safe distance.

The man walked through several streets and back alleys, Tim following in arrears and hiding behind any odd bit of cover whenever the man turned around to check if he was being followed.

Eventually, the man reached what looked to be a dead-end, a brick wall connected to a very large building at the end of a narrow walkway. The man looked around, Tim ducking down behind a dumpster, or skip bin, before he pulled out his wand. Tim slowly peeked out from behind the bin.

"Dissendium…" the man whispered. Tim watched as the brick wall opened up, as though it were a set of elevator doors. Tim's suspicions were proven true.

The man moved to walk through the passageway, but Tim sneaked up behind him and knocked him out.

The man's eyes slowly opened, a line of drool running down his chin and onto his legs, his body strapped to a chair. Eyelids flickering, consciousness stirring, the man looked up to see Tim staring down at him, holding his wand in his hand.

Tim broke the man's wand, snapping it in half and discarding the pieces. "I know how important a wand is to a wizard." Tim said, almost sounding genuinely apologetic to have broken it. "But I'm not about to make the same mistake I made before."

"Where am I…?" the man hazily asked.

"I'll be asking the questions, bub." Tim said calmly. "And if you value your life, you'll answer me honestly."

"What do you want from me?"

Tim gave the man a right hook, holding back just enough so that he wouldn't break his jaw. The man let out a quick yelp of pain.

"I told you. You answer my questions. Now… what's your name?"

The man stayed silent, but when Tim reared his hand back as if to punch him again, his resolve faltered and he trembled. "Mahad…"

"You a wizard, Mahad?"

"…Yes…"

"You a follower of Voldemort?"

The man's eyes widened but quickly tightened, his actions answering Tim's question. "I don't know a Voldemort."

Tim chuckled. "What, you know him as Morty? Tom Riddle? At least have some damn pride. The last one of you I interrogated had a pair o' brass ones. He might have been scum, but at least he put one hundred percent of himself towards that cause. But cowards do live longer…"

"A-alright, so…" Mahad cleared his throat. "Maybe I am a Death Eater. What's it to you?"

Tim narrowed his eyes. "Death Eater?"

Mahad almost laughed, but then he remembered his current predicament. "You know of Voldemort but not his army? Who are you exactly?"

Tim licked his lips, fighting the urge to reach over and hit the wizard for asking a question. "What were you doing in Muggle Scotland?"

Mahad's right eye twitched. "Looking for someone…"

"Who?"

"Igor Karkaroff."

"Kakarot? Kakarot?! Kakarot!" Tim shouted, his sheer energy causing the room to shake. "…Why?!" He asked, calming himself down.

"H-he's on the run…!" Mahad stammered, the room having stopped shaking. "I-I was asked to assist some other Death Eaters in hunting him down! He's a deserter!"

"Deserter? You mean… he was a Death Eater?!"

Mahad nodded his head quickly.

"Where is he?"

Mahad's eyes widened. "Y-you know him?"

"Where is he?!" Tim repeated.

"S-somewhere up north." Mahad whimpered, Tim grabbing the man's clothing and throwing him back against the chair.

"Where specifically?!"

"The-the-the Muggle village of Halkirk, or possibly Tongue."

Tim grimaced, spitting at the ground. "Alright, you've been useful. I won't kill you." Tim turned around, grabbing a tin of baked beans off a nearby table. "There you go, some nourishment. I'll be back in a few hours."

And with that, Tim left the room of his makeshift interrogation chamber, locking the door behind him and leaving Mahad trapped inside.

It's a sign! You know it is! Voldemort is coming back! You can't deny it anymore!

Karkaroff's own words could not ring truer than they did now, the thin man pacing back and forth in the top room of a two-story house on the edge of a forest. His breathing was heavy and erratic, his body feeling as though he was going to have a heart attack.

It was only a short while ago that he was standing with his student Viktor Krum and overlooking a huge maze, and now he was on the run.

He felt it in the air, in his skin. Voldemort calling for him. He tried to shake it off, pretend it was nothing, deny it, even though, through his own words he knew there was no possible way he could. It was only when Harry Potter re-emerged from the maze carrying the body of Cedric Diggory and announcing that Voldemort had indeed returned that Karkaroff high-tailed it out of Hogwarts.

Luckily for him, he was able to easily make it out of Hogwarts due to all the commotion over Cedric's death. Only Severus Snape caught his eye. Karkaroff knew how he'd sold out a bunch of Death Eaters in the past, and because of that, there would have been no way he would have been allowed back into the fold. No. He knew they'd kill him for treachery if given the chance. He had to look after himself.

He had to run.

The sound of whispering wind drew Karkaroff's eyes from the floor as he rushed over to the window, watching as a small group of Death Eaters Apparated in from out of nowhere. Even from afar, he knew who they were just based on how they stood and carried themselves. Patrem Crabbe, Gite Goyle, Dóry Bronson, and Alecto Carrow.

Karkaroff started to sweat, desperately moving to escape through the window. Unfortunately, by the time he'd made it to the window, the Death Eaters were already upon him. "Away from the window, Karkaroff." Patrem's voice sounded.

Karkaroff gasped, doing as he was told, turning to the Death Eaters and holding his hands in the air to offer surrender. "You dirty rat!" Gite shouted, all four Death Eaters pointing their wands at the traitor.

Just as the four raised their wands at Karkaroff, Tim burst into the room, grabbing Patrem from behind and snapping his neck. The sound caused the other three Death Eaters to turn, eyes wide in fear, confusion and fury as they directed their wands toward Tim. "Avada Kedavra!" they shouted, Tim using Patrem's body as a shield.

Tim threw Patrem at Alecto, causing the witch to drop her wand and topple over. Tim darted toward Gite and disarmed him with a swift roundhouse kick. Tim followed up with another roundhouse, kicking Gite into a locked cupboard. The wizard collided with it, the cupboard shaking from impact as Gite dropped to the ground. As Gite got up, the cupboard became completely unsteady and fell on him, killing him instantly.

Bronson punched Tim in the face, for some reason deciding to use physical violence in spite of being able to use magic. Tim growled, simply turning and grabbing him by the neck, squeezing and popping Bronson's head like a blood-filled balloon, his body dropping to the ground.

From her downed position, Alecto grabbed her wand, but Tim stepped on her arm, causing her to scream in pain. With his free leg, Tim kicked Alecto's head off, as though it were a ball, the witch's head smashing into a chest of drawers.

"Y-you…" Karkaroff stuttered. "You're… you're Tim…"

"That's right." Tim said, walking over to him. Karkaroff flinched, bracing himself for the end as he thought Tim was going to do to him what he did to the other Death Eaters, but Tim simply reached his hand out and said "Come with me."

"Wh-what…?"

"Come on, Kakarot. It's quite simple," Tim sighed. "The way I see it, you have two choices: Spend the rest of your life running from Voldemort and his followers, who I'm sure aren't gonna stop hunting you until you're dead. Or," Tim paused, indicating to Karkaroff that this was obviously the preferred option, "You can join me, and help me fight against Voldemort."

Karkaroff stood, looking incredibly hesitant as his eyes moved between the living Tim and the dead Gite. "I-I don't know…"

"You-you don't know?!" Tim shouted. "Are you kidding?! It's either him or you, Kakarot, and to be honest, you're worth about as much to me alive as you are dead to Voldemort. I just figured you'd want to live."

"A-alright… I'll… I'll help you…" Karkaroff mumbled.

Tim smiled, quickly embracing Karkaroff in a manly fashion. "Nice to see you have a brain in-between those ears of yours. We have to move quickly. There's probably more of those Death Eaters lurking around. Come on…"

Karkaroff nodded, following Tim over to the window as the gorgeous man pried it open for the two of them to make their escape.

Tim and Karkaroff returned to Tim's hideout, Mahad still strapped to his seat, tomato sauce around his mouth from the baked beans he'd devoured.

"You got your wand?" Tim asked as he invited Karkaroff in.

"Of course." Karkaroff replied.

"Good. Kill him." Tim said bluntly, Karkaroff's eyes falling to Mahad.

Mahad's eyes went wide. "W-wait! You said you weren't gonna kill me!"

"I said I wouldn't kill you." Tim smiled, turning to Karkaroff. "Go on. Prove to me that you want to repent. Kill him."

With only a brief moment of hesitance, Karkaroff drew his wand and uttered the Killing Curse, forever silencing Mahad.

Tim clasped his hands together. "Fantastic! Alright, now I think it's time we got rid of that beard."

"Excuse me?" Karkaroff asked, sounding genuinely insulted that Tim wanted to remove his facial hair.

"Well, among other things. We have to change your appearance." Tim grabbed a razor from the table and gave it to Karkaroff. "Here, use this."

Karkaroff looked almost bewildered at the strange item Tim had given him. "What do I do with this?"

Tim's mouth dropped open. "It's a razor. You know, to shave with?" Tim sighed. "Never mind. I'll shave it off for you. I'll just get some shaving cream. In the meantime, tell me everything you know about Voldemort and his operations…"

The sound of footsteps came as Yoru ascended the stairs of Karkaroff's hideaway. As she reached the top, her eyes widened at the sight in front of her.

"Aww…" Yoru pouted. "Looks like I'm too late." Her expression quickly changed to that of a sinister smile as she looked around at the Death Eater corpses and copious amounts of blood smeared across the floor. "Oh, well, no sense in letting all this blood go to waste…"