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Harry tapped his fingers over the steel surface of the table as he fought the waves of anger crashing over him. Burning rage hissed through his body like deathly poison, screeching and demanding release in the form of unwanted violence. It was like a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off of him in ferocious waves. The wrath consumed him, engulfing his self-control and the restraint he was exercising over his body,

"GET OUT!"

Andrew looked at him with understanding in his eyes as he hurried out of the room while the other followed sharp on his heels. When he was all alone in the room, he jumped up to his feet and grabbed the steel chair he was sitting on, before smashing it hard against the wall. He did it over and over again until there was nothing left of the chair. He dropped what was left in his hand before grabbing the next one and repeated it before moving on to the next.

The pace he was going at, he was surely going to run out of furniture very soon.

It turned out that Tom really had been behind stealing their shipment. He'd broken the truce and that meant war.

He hadn't been expecting that from Tom though. He knew it was extremely naïve of him to believe that Tom would keep his word and uphold the truce. Never mind… It was time for revenge and that was exactly what he was going to get.

He drew in a deep breath to calm himself before dropping the chair on the ground with a loud clatter. He caught a sight of himself in the polished steel door and ran his hand through his mussed up hair. He was dressed in a black V neck T-shirt today with a pair of stone washed jeans, a faded blue denim jacket and black combat boots.

He strode out of the room and found Andrew standing with Mark while the men stood behind them. He signalled to the men to leave and once he was alone with Mark and Andrew, he walked past them and straight into Mark's office. Settling down in Mark's seat, he swung his legs up on the desk and spoke in a matter of fact voice,

"Lord Voldemort is going to die."

Andrew and Mark silently exchanged a concerned glance and Harry spoke up,

"You don't think that's possible?"

Andrew cleared his throat before he spoke,

"It's not… He's just very powerful… You might be underestimating him a bit…"

Harry leaned back in his seat and stared up at the ceiling before bursting into laughter. Tom was anything but strong and he knew just how to bring him to his knees,

Harry picked up the paper weight from atop the desk and rolled it in his hand as Andrew inquired hesitantly,

"What are you planning?"

Harry tossed the weight in the air before catching it and chuckled darkly,

"Why would I let you know?"

He levelled his gaze at Andrew and then turned it to Mark,

"You both betrayed me when you assisted Fenrir in his hare brained scheme to abduct me… I ought to string you up and skin you alive…"

He paused as he tightened his hold on the paper weight and imagined channelling all his rage into it. He drew in a slow calming breath and then spoke,

"But I won't since I still need you both… But consider this your one and only warning…If you partake in something like that again, I will not be so lenient."

Mark and Andrew bowed their heads as they stood still. Both of them spoke at once,

"It won't happen again."

Harry spat out bitterly,

"It better not."

He replaced the paper weight on the desk as he rose to his feet gracefully and spoke,

"I want you to arrange a charity ball… Invite Lord Voldemort… In fact, invite all our allies and rivals."

Andrew looked uncertain as he asked,

"What will be the charity for?"

Harry scoffed impatiently,

"It'll be for the orphans. All proceeds shall be distributed among our sponsored orphanages."

Andrew began tapping away on his tablet,

"What kind of ball do you want it to be?"

Harry snorted,

"A masquerade…Obviously…"

Andrew nodded as he excused himself and walked out of the room. Harry looked at Mark and stepped closer to him. Mark met his gaze for a fraction of a second before his gaze went back down to his feet,

"Will we assassinate Lord Voldemort at the ball?"

Harry tsked as he circled him,

"Nope… The ball is just to draw him back out in the public… It seems he's been in hiding…"

Mark nodded but his puzzlement was obvious on his face,

"Sir, why not simply kill him at the ball?"

Harry chuckled darkly,

"No… His death can't be swift…"

He rested a finger underneath Mark's chin and raised his face up,

"Look at me."

Mark did and Harry finally realized how remorseful he looked,

"What's wrong, Mark?"

Mark cleared his throat before he spoke,

"I didn't want to be a part of that plan… I didn't approve of it and neither did Andrew, but we couldn't do anything because Mr. Greyback seemed so crazed about it."

Harry patted Mark on the shoulder gently and then spoke,

"I understand, Mark… I only expect you to be more loyal to me in the future."

Mark nodded fervently as he asked,

"Am I forgiven?"

Harry smirked,

"Yes… You're forgiven…"

A smile finally dawned on Mark's lips as he spoke,

"I shall never disappoint you again."

He ran his hand through Mark's hair and spoke,

"I'm counting on that."