Beta: Julie. fjad

Chapter Nine

The beginning

—

It was five minutes after the train started its way to Hogwarts, when the doors of his compartment opened and a girl with unruly brown hair stood there, clad in a muggle sweater and jeans.

Mudblood.

"What do you want?" Draco asked, looking at her with critical eyes. She looked closely at Theodore Nott, before answering him in an arrogant tone he did not appreciate.

"What I want is none of your business. This is not how a boy should speak to a girl." The girl looked at him with pursed lips. "And what is your name?"

What was his name? Everyone knew him just by looking at him. He had blond hair which was a traditional Malfoy hair colour, his grey eyes were just like his dad's, who was Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, and he was dressed in the best wizarding clothing, cloak included.

He was a Malfoy.

"I am Draco Malfoy. And you are?" He could sneer all he wanted, she was a Mudblood, Draco thought as he heard her answer.

"I am Hermione Granger."

"Filthy Mudblood." Pansy had never been tactical, but then again, who cared?

"What did you say?"

"She said you were a Mudblood. Are you one?" Draco crossed the hands on his chest as he leaned back, smirking.

The girl seemed to mull something over, her eyes pensive, jaws clenched, and then she took a step into the compartment, moving closer to where Pansy sat.

"Draco, she doesn't even know what a Mudblood is. It means, Granger, than your parents are filthy Muggles and— " Pansy didn't finish the sentence as Granger's fist collided with Pansy's nose, freeing so much blood that Pansy's white clothing was now red. "Aaaaaa!"

Draco was on his feet, wand out, just like the rest of their group, glaring at the Mudblood. Draco thought he had seen Theodore rub his knuckles, and he himself wouldn't mind smashing the Mudblood's face.

"What is going on here?!" One of the Weasleys was standing in the doors, glaring at them and at Pansy's broken nose.

You wait, Mudblood.

Xxx

"This is not how we have agreed to proceed, Mister Holmes." When Albus wanted something, his grandfatherly voice gained notes of steel, and now Severus heard a clang of metal.

Dumbledore wasn't amused. It was almost sorting time, and they were still in Muggle London.

"You wizards have no idea what is happening in the muggle world, do you? At all." Severus turned to look at the younger Holmes, who looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Is there any way a wizard can block death?" The younger Holmes asked Severus, completely serious, and Severus opened his mouth to say "No" when he remembered about the Dark Lord.

"I beg your pardon?" It was Albus who had asked the question, his blue eyes alert.

"Moriarty has been in a coma for a month, and his heart has stopped fifty-seven times already, he is breathing with the help of a machine, and he is still alive. How?" Mycroft Holmes was quiet, and it was Sherlock who was talking to them, while his elder brother was reading something on his phone.

"I am afraid you'll have to explain a bit more, Mister Holmes."

"He flatlines and then when we don't do anything, the heart rate appears again and again and again. We switched off the machines, and Moriarty is still breathing, even when he cannot be." Sherlock Holmes seemed neurotic at the moment, gesturing and talking fast. "We even placed him in the morgue, only to find him breathing on his own the next morning. For God's sake, even after autopsy he is alive. He just won't die."

Sherlock looked at Mycroft, who nodded, and then at Severus and Albus.

"Autopsy?" Albus asked, glancing at Severus, who had decided to sit onto a chair because he was sure his legs would give up soon.

Severus looked at what Mycroft was holding in his hands now, and swallowed hard. Moriarty's heart was in a simple, glass jar, and it was beating.

xxx

Harry could only stare. Speechless, shocked, enraged…There were many words to describe what he felt when he looked at James' figure, all in tubes and beeping monitors, locked in a room with three walls and one mirror behind which the gang of bastards stood.

James…

What enraged him, though, were the people in James' room, near his bed. Was this the circus or was this a room of a man who needed extended care?

Harry's mouth was open as he silently looked over the crowd that consisted of at least twenty people, who turned to look at him as he entered, before returning their attention to the body on the bed.

Five grown up men were pulling at James from all sides, cursing and arguing, while the rest waited for their turn to try their hand at disturbing his friend.

"On the count of three!"

"One, two, three!"

"I told you it doesn't work. We have tried the standard way, and we have read the codex again, to see if we may need any special ritual, and he is still here. After one month and two-hundred fifteen attempts later."

"On the count of five!"

"One, two, three, four, five, pull!" All the men started pulling at James' hands and feet, only to drop onto the floor in defeat.

"On the count of seven!"

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, PULL!"

"DAMMIT!" Harry watched as one of the men hit his fists onto a wall, almost crying from rage.

"Hey, is that boy looking at us? He looks directly into my eyes. I think he sees us." Well, duh…

"You need to spend less time listening to gossip, and concentrate on your work. Humans don't see us." And you, big guy, should get your head checked while being in a hospital anyway.

Who the hell were those people?

What the hell did Mycroft Holmes think he was doing?

"Our shift supervisor refuses to even check on this guy. She said we have to figure it out ourselves."

"I am telling you, the boy is looking at me." The man with short blond hair voiced his thoughts again, to be ignored, as one more person entered the room. It was an elderly woman with a thick book in her hands.

"How about a rope? If we use the enchanted rope and put it around his neck…The papers say he goes directly to hell anyway, onto the hottest pan, so maybe we should separate the head and then take the rest of the body?" Did the grandma just offer to cut off James's head?

Harry couldn't watch this theatre any longer, so he cleared his throat, making all the people turn to look at him.

"You touch him again, and I'll use your enchanted rope to cut your heads off."

Silence.

Haha, easily scared bullies…

"I told you he can see us!" The blond man looked hysterical, while the rest were just standing in stunned silence.

"Can you see us?" The grandma asked in a quiet voice, looking at him pensively.

"Are you on drugs, people? What the hell is Holmes doing with James? What the hell do you think you're doing near my friend? Who the fuck are you?" Harry screamed at the crowd, not thinking about Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape and two Holmeses behind the mirror-glass.

"He can see us."

"Well, of course I can see you! I can also hear you, you retards. I'll ask again and you better answer me. What are you doing with my friend?"

"We need to take him with us." The grandma with the book said, and Harry shook his head.

No one was touching his friend.

"No."

The word left Harry's lips, and out of nowhere, an anchor appeared and after twisting the metal chain around James's body, the anchor secured itself on the floor.

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at the people in the room, who were now very silent.

"We have orders to take James Moriarty with us." The grandma was the bravest.

"I said NO!" One more anchor appeared, and twisting around the bed one more time, it dropped near the other anchor.

Everyone was watching the anchors silently, even Harry, who didn't understand anymore if he was going crazy, or if he already was nuts.

One of the men stepped closer to him and sneering, he turned to look at his comrades.

Special Forces? MI6?

"Let's take the boy first, and then we'll see," the man offered, already moving closer to Harry, not noticing the older woman's head shaking.

A hand landed on Harry's shoulder and the man with brown hair and blue eyes was looking him in the eye.

"I call for you…" The man stopped and closed his eyes, before opening them and smirking at Harry, he continued. "Well, well, well. I call for you, Harry Potter."

A minute went by, and Harry's eyebrow started to feel uncomfortable from being raised for so long.

Quiet mutterings from the crowd didn't allow the eyebrow to take a pause.

"Why is nothing happening?"

"So this is Harry Potter."

"Maybe there is something wrong with this room, if our powers don't work here?"

"How long can it take?"

"They say Potter has cheated Death once already…"

The man kept staring at him, only now there was uncertainty in the blue eyes, and a bit of fear.

"Right, and what do you think will happen now?" Harry asked pleasantly, while clenching and unclenching his numbing fingers which had started to heat up.

"I call for you, Harry James Potter!" The man screamed, face tense, and put another hand on Harry's other shoulder.

He had had enough of those lunatics who couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Harry opened his mouth to ask for the man's name, only to stop when the name appeared above the man's head, the letters glowing red.

Bahahaha…Who named their children Asparagus?

Swallowing the laughter—not very successfully, though, as everyone in the room froze— Harry shook off Asparagus' hands off his shoulders, and still hiccupping, he lifted his now again burning hand and touched the vegetable's shoulder.

"My dear Asparagus!"

Harry expected laughter, or any reaction from the crowd, but not the silence that now was so heavy Harry was afraid he'd gone deaf.

The man's blue eyes were frozen with horror, and he was standing like a stone, when Harry bit his lip and squinted his eyes.

"I call for Asparagus!" Two can play this idiotic game.

Harry knew he should be all serious, but he couldn't stop the mad laughter that escaped him, especially when the laughter was echoed by a very familiar voice.

"JAMES!" Harry screamed in joy when he noticed James sitting on the floor, laughing.

Harry ran towards his friend, and hugged him, forgetting about the weird guy, before something clicked in his head and he looked towards the bed with beeping machines, and the body of Jim Moriarty on the bed.

"Eeeee…"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The scream was so loud that Harry had to close his ears with his palms, looking at the now burning Asparagus. The man was being swallowed by flames and no one rushed to help him, his comrades standing with white faces, heads bowed.

"A Torch!" James laughed again, making Harry want to cry from joy.

He had missed James so, so much.

Xxx

Severus looked at Albus, who was holding his right hand on his chest, above his heart, his face twisted in pain. He hoped Dumbledore wouldn't end up with a stroke.

"Albus, are you alright?"

It was a stupid question, considering what they were witnessing from the other side of the mirror.

After they had let Potter into the room, Albus had cast a spell to alert them about any presence, and soon the room was full with small, white dots, that Potter could somehow see and communicate with.

Severus had a very nasty feeling he knew who Potter was talking to, but he refused to accept it.

The scream of "JAMES!" was followed by a sound that reached them all even through the thick walls, as someone started to howl in terrible pain, one white dot becoming larger and redder before exploding and disappearing.

Minutes ticked by, and Severus had to close his eyes with his palm in order to collect himself, when a knock was heard on the mirror, making Severus raise his eyes and look straight into the green eyes of Potter, who was waving from the other side of the mirror.

"Hey, are you planning on returning to Hogwarts, or I can skip the sorting?" Potter asked, smiling, and Severus glanced at Dumbledore, who was now taking a Calming Draught.

So he was right then…Potter could see and talk to Reapers.

Fantastic.

The next thing they needed was to find out that the boy was immortal, and then they could all kill themselves to spare themselves the trouble of seeing what Potter would do to the wizarding world.

Seers could see the Reapers, and as far as Severus knew, that was it. So, was Potter a Seer? He somehow doubted it. Too easy for someone so complicated like Potter.

What a great beginning of the day…

They needed to return to Hogwarts, but Severus did not need any Sorting Hat to tell them where Potter would land. That blasted child would be wearing his House's colours in less than an hour.

Oh, Lily…

"And can you check the news if I have any cool congratulations for the 1st of September? I was told I'd get a surprise when I'd start school, and even though you guys managed to get my friend into a coma, I am still expecting my gift." Potter was chatting with them through the mirror, glancing around the room from time to time.

"Hey, you. Step back from James! I prohibit touching or approaching my friend when you're all drugged out." Potter barked at one white dot, which quickly retreated back, and after the boy yelled "ALL OUT!" all the white dots disappeared from the room.

Merlin…

Mycroft Holmes looked more than alert after Potter's words about surprise, and was talking to Sherlock quietly.

"Severus, take Harry and apparate to Hogwarts. Now." Something in Dumbledore's tone made Snape silently nod and without any arguments, he left the room and entered the other one, stepping close to Potter and offering him his hand. "Now, Potter."

The boy seemed to think something over, before nodding and taking Severus' hand, both disappearing from the building.

xxx

It was so boring.

The chatting first-years with their large, surprised eyes and stupid faces made him want to take out his wand and cast a few Crucios.

He hated children.

The only child he could tolerate was Potter, but then again, he wasn't so sure Potter was a child.

There was something really wrong with the boy, and now the boy was missing, along with Severus and Dumbles.

Harry would come to him later and tell him what had happened, just like he had done after visiting Azkaban and cuddling with a Dementor. Voldemort still didn't know what to think about that.

Potter was a Slytherin through and through, but he still wanted to see the sorting of the boy.

"Professor Quirrell, do you like Hogwarts?"

Argh…Crucio!

"Y-yes, Pr- Professor Si-sinistra."

Crucio!

"Are you excited about teaching Defence against the Dark Arts, Professor?"

Noooo.

"Of- of co-course. I am really lo- looking fo- forward to it."

CRUCIO!

"Do you know that Harry Potter starts his schooling this year?"

"Ye-yes, I do."

He had helped Potter to hide the house-elf body, and they had even agreed on the terms and conditions of their little union. Potter takes the Muggle world, and he, Lord Voldemort, the wizarding. Simple and elegant.

Harry had been honest when he had said that the wizarding world did not interest him as much as the muggle one, and that he had no plans of going against Voldemort, so for the moment there was peace between them.

When he finally would get the Philosopher's Stone and get his body back, he'd take a closer look at the conditions, and if Potter turned out to be an issue, the boy would be removed.

Permanently.

Lord Voldemort tuned out the horrible voices of imbecilic children and the moronic staff who was qualified enough to teach new generations of wizards and witches, but dumb enough to not recognize a Dark Lord drinking tea with them. Voldemort tried to calm his rage and looked at the doors.

Where are you, Harry?

xxx

The Headmaster's seat was still empty, and Draco looked at where his Godfather was supposed to be sitting, only to see an empty space.

He also hadn't seen Potter, which meant the disappearance of all three was connected to each other. His father had explained to him what Potter had been doing before coming to Hogwarts, telling Draco to not lie to the boy under any circumstances and to try and please him. His father had been dead serious when he had promised to remove Draco from Hogwarts if he did not land on Potter's good side, and Draco believed his father's judgement. If dad said Potter was dangerous, then he was.

McGonagall was standing in front of them with a scroll, and Draco glanced at the Mudblood one more time. She was silently looking around, searching the faces of the students, her brows drawn together and a frown on her face, which he would mar with her filthy blood later.

Who was she looking for? Everyone was here, except…He looked around and squinted his eyes while thinking.

Mudblood was looking for Potter. But why?

"Abbot, Hannah!"

It looked like the sorting would start without the Headmaster and Potter. What had happened?

Xxx

They were already five names into the list, and Hermione had still not see HJ. Maybe Mycroft Holmes had been wrong, and the boy wasn't magical?

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione walked towards the Sorting Hat, still thinking about HJ, not noticing the evil glares from a few first-years.

She didn't care which House she would be sorted to. She had to be close to HJ, and he wasn't here.

'Ah, such potential, Miss Granger. You would have been a great Ravenclaw a year ago.' Hermione tensed at the voice in her head. 'But now, all you care about is the goal, not how you reach it.'

Well, it was true. If she had to go through the fire, water and hell, she'd still follow HJ to make him pay.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Sorting Hat screamed, stopping Hermione's thoughts about HJ, and focusing on the current situation, when the hall was quiet, as she took the hat off and looked around.

The green table wasn't clapping and everyone was staring at her with hostile eyes.

Not caring about the hostile atmosphere, Hermione jumped down from the stool and walked towards the green table, and sat onto the bench, looking around for HJ.

Where are you, HJ?

Xxx

A Mudblood had just gotten sorted into his House, and Voldemort bit the porcelain cup with tea, cracking one front tooth. It wasn't his tooth, so he didn't care what he had broken, and forcing Quirrell to sit quietly, Voldemort cursed Dumbledore for allowing such atrocity to happen.

A Mudblood in Slytherin.

What next?

"Malfoy, Draco!"

He had known the boy was a Malfoy the second the blond had entered the hall, and Voldemort leaned back a bit, looking at Lucius' mini-me.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Sorting Hat needed a second to decide, and Voldemort clapped a bit. Maybe Lucius had managed to produce a not-so-imbecilic offspring?

Draco was now smiling like a shark, winking at the Mudblood.

Oh, interesting. It looked like some bad blood was already between the pureblood prince and the Mudblood. Hmmm…To add Harry to Slytherin, the Mudblood could have an interesting, but rather short life.

Lord Voldemort looked at Granger a little bit closer, before turning his attention to the rest of the idiotic children.

"Lovegood, Luna!"

Ravenclaw. Or St. Mungo's, judging by the vacant, blue eyes. Considering her father published about some mystical creatures that lived only in his head, madness ran in the family.

"RAVENCLAW!"

St. Mungo's could always wait.

"Theodore Nott!"

Death Eater baby. Slytherin.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Parkinson, Pansy!"

Death Eater baby again. Slytherin.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Boring.

"Zabini, Blaise!"

It looked like when he had been hiding in Albanian woods, bodiless, his Death Eaters had created a nursery. Slytherin.

"SLYTHERIN!"

He was always right.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

Hmmm...Normally, the Weasleys went to Gryffindor…Gryffindor.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Pfff…

The boy seemed to agree with Voldemort, as he went to the middle table with tears in his eyes.

Retard.

Minerva McGonagall was at loss at what to do, when there was left only one name on the list, and the boy was still missing, along with Dumbledore and Snape.

The doors swung open, and Voldemort sat more comfortable in his chair, prepared to be entertained by Harry, when he looked at the doors.

What have you done now, Potter?

He knew one idiot with a round hat and stupid face, but the other was unfamiliar to him. What was Fudge doing here, and who was that atrocious monster in pink?

Behind Fudge, appeared Severus and Harry, and then Dumbledore, who closed the doors with a grave expression on his old face.

Whatever Harry had done, had brought Dumbles one step closer to the coffin, and soon the old man would fall into it. Voldemort's mood was back to 'pleased' and he was prepared to watch the show Potter would no doubt produce.

His eyes left Harry's leather-clad form when he felt rage of enormous proportions coming somewhere from the right. Voldemort looked at the Slytherin table, expecting Draco to be the source of hate, only to be surprised by the Mudblood, while Draco was smirking.

She knew Harry, and she hated him as much as Voldemort hated Dumbledore.

Well, well, well…The Mudblood sat like a stone statue, glaring at the moving Potter.

"Can I have a table for one?" Potter started the comedy, and Voldemort was the only one smiling, because both Severus and Dumbledore looked really, really concerned.

"Onto the stool. Now!" Severus wasn't very nice to Harry, and Voldemort mentally wrote down an X next to Snape's name. One Crucio.

"Clean it first, I don't know who sat there before." Even if Harry turned out to be an issue, he'd probably keep the boy alive, for entertaining purposes only.

"Harry, go sit onto the stool and put the hat on." Whatever Harry had done, Dumbledore was close to losing it, Voldemort could see it clearly. A pang of jealousy went through him, as he remembered it had taken three Killing Curses to fly in Dumbledore's direction for the old man to look at Voldemort with such eyes.

Potter rolled his green eyes and moved towards the hat, which he then started to inspect in detail.

"I think I can see lice. YUCK!" Potter threw the sorting hat onto the floor and kicked it with his foot.

"MISTER POTTER!" It was McGonagall who had lost it, screaming at the boy, simultaneously making the whole student body freeze.

Yes, yes. That's your hero. Look closely.

The Mudblood was white in the face, which meant she had known Harry, but not as Harry Potter.

Interesting. Did Harry kick her puppy?

Potter was looking around, still not sitting onto the stool, when his eyes met Granger's.

Voldemort saw recognition in Harry's eyes, shock, and then the green eyes started to twinkle with laughter.

"Hey, Granger, how are mom and dad?" Potter's loud question, asked in a mocking tone that could rival Bellatrix', caused the Mudblood to jump from the bench, and dash towards Harry, only to be stopped by Snape.

One more Crucio. He wanted to see the show.

Draco was standing, like the rest of the Slytherin house, looking at the scene.

"You! You are Harry Potter!" Granger was screaming, her eyes mad with rage and incredibility.

"No shit." Harry laughed before calming under Dumbledore's freezing gaze. Hold on, Potter, we'll get rid of the old coot soon.

"You tortured my parents! You are a criminal!"

Well, well, well…His Harry was full with surprises. Slytherin House was waiting for Potter's comeback, looking at him closely, just like everyone in the hall.

"Granger, you're such a whiny otter. Do you like your new teeth, or do you want to try again?"

Hehehe.

"POTTER, ONTO THE STOOL, NOW!"

Snape's roar finally got to Potter—one more Crucio—, and the boy moved towards the stool, taking the hat from McGonagall's hands, not noticing the smiling Slytherin table. Granger was seated back onto the bench, with Snape standing near, not taking his eyes from the snakes, who looked ready to kiss Potter and kill the Mudblood.

"You give me any lice, and I'll eat you alive. Got it?" Harry asked the Sorting Hat and waited for its nod to place it onto his head.

Voldemort—Quirrell— had finished the second cup of tea, and the hat was still quiet.

"I think this thing is broken. Do you have warranty, because I did not break it?" Potter asked from under the Hat. Voldemort actually agreed with Harry, since ten minutes had gone by and the hat had not said a word.

"I am thinking." The Sorting's Hat mouth opened and Potter huffed impatiently. "Think faster."

"I cannot think any faster!"

"Then you should be replaced."

"I cannot be replaced!"

"Stop it!" Dumbledore was really not in the mood, and Voldemort promised to learn from Potter how to drive the old coot insane. "Sort him into the House he belongs to, and that's it. No more talking!"

He wasn't sure, but for a second, he thought he heard the Sorting Hat mutter 'imbeciles', before it started to think about Potter's Slytherin House. It couldn't be any other.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

WHAT?

"WHAT?!" Severus was shocked, just like everyone else. The silence was interrupted Potter's whine.

"Hey, I want the green colours. I hate red!" Harry was now gesturing towards Slytherins, while looking at his red tie with a frown.

"Sit down at the Gryffindor table, Harry, and do so quickly." Merlin, what had Potter done? Dumbledore was beyond mad, and Fudge looked all white and sweaty. Potter had done something in the muggle world, and Voldemort couldn't wait to find out what.

Dumbledore was now standing before the student body, tense and sad, and Voldemort started to tap his finger…

"The 1st of September is supposed to be a great day for everyone, the new and the old students. Sometimes, however, horrible things happen, and there is not much we can do." Dumbledore paused and looked at Harry, who was still inspecting his new clothing, not paying any attention to the gawking children around him.

"All muggleborn students will have a day off, and there will be no classes tomorrow." He had been correct, something had happened in the Muggle world.

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a second, and continued in a grave voice.

"Today a series of terrorist attacks have shaken Great Britain." The silence was incredible, and some of the students—Mudbloods—had hands over their mouths.

"You will get the newspapers in a few minutes, and I am asking you to try and calm down. You are safe here." Voldemort looked at Draco who was whisper-talking to other Slytherins, looking at Potter from time to time.

So Draco knew about Harry's interesting life outside of the wizarding world. And it meant Lucius knew much more…Hmmm…

The birds appeared with scrolls of newspapers, and Voldemort couldn't wait to get his hands on it.

"I am so, so sorry." Dumbledore smiled a sad smile, and wiped the corner of his eye. Was the old fool crying?

Opening the Daily Prophet, Voldemort blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. When he imagined Harry's guardian, he thought of a simple criminal who stole wallets, but now, he could finally understand the magnitude of Potter's issues in the Muggle world and the reason for Dumbledore's horrible mood.

A few students—Mudbloods—started crying after reading their newspapers, and Voldemort could only stare at the numbers.

He was the most feared Dark Lord in centuries, and he had killed maybe a hundred, or two hundred, people, and this was done by a Muggle who was Potter's guardian. He made him, Lord Voldemort, look like an amateur.

At least it only concerned the Muggles, as very few wizards—and muggle-friendly only, so they had deserved it—visited the places where Potter's guardian had placed the surprises.

He would be more careful with Harry now, Voldemort thought as he looked over the headlines again.

"Muggle Britain under attack! Chemical weapon explosion causes hundreds dead, and even more injured in the airport bomb explosion."

And then at the next headline. "Queen Victoria, the flagman of the British touristic fleet, is blown to pieces in the middle of the ocean. Over three thousand people dead, many lost in the water."

And the last one, was a picture of an ugly, yellow, one-eyed creature with balloons, and a "Happy 1st September, HJ! Fireworks for my boy!" written on the colourful balloons, one in a form of a ship, and the other in a form of a plane.

Voldemort was shocked, and he was a little bit scared, while looking at Harry, who was now colouring his tie with a green pen, not bothered by the tears and pain of his fellow students. Harry then put away the pen and reached towards the mashed potatoes and the roasted chicken.

"Yummy."

Potter was now looking at Granger's face, two tables separating them, chewing a chicken wing. He was mocking her, and the Mudblood knew that. She looked ready to kill Harry here and now.

It would be a very interesting year, Voldemort noted and also reached towards the chicken. All the drama made him forget about the dinner, so he was really hungry.

Biting into the roasted chicken, Lord Voldemort smiled.

Yummy indeed.

xxx

a/n I feel like a horrible person, writing about terrorist attacks when just recently a plane crashed- not by itself, imho- and innocent people have died. Since I'm not stupid, I know I alerted some people when I googled information about weapons and stuff for the story. I hope that the real security forces in every land will prevent things that I allowed to happen in the story. I hope for people like Mycroft to stop such nightmares from becoming real in real life. But this is fanfiction, so, I apologize to those whose feelings I hurt, but I couldn't not write it. And if you're already bothered by the story, then please remember I still have one nuclear bomb somewhere around in the story, and the story is actually only just beginning. For me, the perception of a character is very important, so I have to do what I have to do. I don't have a vendetta against London (I love the city!), but the places have to be accurate, as Voldemort and purebloods wouldn't care if it had happened somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, let me know what you think, ok? Thanks for reading and please review.