The Demonlord Naevenrashta looked at the grave of James Potter in Godric's Hollow. He had died many years ago, killed by this petty Lord Voldermort who thought he had any real power or a true concept of darkness. The Demonlord pondered. He could, of course, resurrect James, as his loyal undead servant. Not as one of the ghosts they had in the mortal realm, incapable as they were of even touching mortal objects, or as a foolish zombie or inferi, but as a Demon of the Grave. Yes, that was a good idea. He reached out a large arm and casually crushed the grave and a certain layer of soil beneath, revealing beneath it a somewhat damaged corpse. Smiling, he blew, and out of his mouth came tendrils of anti-magic, reaching down and performing the Undeath Ritual on the corpse held beneath the grave... After James, Naevenrashta would resurrect the entire graveyard.
In the Death Eater Administrative Centre, formerly the Ministry of Magic Headquarters, Neville Longbottom and Lord Voldermort dueled. Voldermort constantly shot beams of green light out of the magnificent Elder Wand he posssessed, shouting constantly, "Avada Kedavra!", while Neville deflected these bolts with the viny Sword of Slytherin, which had been known before as the Sword of Gryffindor, and lept towards Voldermort, attempting to mortally wound him.
"Give up already, boy!" shrieked Voldemort, half-smiling, half-seething. "I have the wand: unbeatable!"
Neville, on the other hand, did not waste his time on theatrics or talk. He remained silent as he deflected the curse over and over, and attempted to get the blade into Voldermort.
This was going to take a while.
In a small, cramped space far away in another universe was enclosed Severus Snape, his legs and waist engulfed in a horrible, muddy liquid, slowly rising and slowly approaching the point wehere he would drown. There was no way out, it seemed...but there was still time left in his life, and the smallest chance of survival.
In Lucifer's Tombs, at the faraway Scourgegate, four high-ranking cultists, cloaked and with veils concealing their faces, plotted together. The Cult of Lucifer was going to arrange the final fufilment of the Ancient Dark Plans, at any cost. It would have to happen within the year, or the millions of years of machinations of the Cult would have been for nothing. The four reached a decision: Grindelwald, the chief servant of Death, would be arranged to strike Earth from Venus in the Final Attack. He would become a party in the war that raged, which would quickly conquer the other factions with the Dark House-Elves of Guhr'Takhan. Death would establish the New Dark Empire. But during the fighting, the Cult would, as according to the Plans, resurrect Lucifer from the Highest Tomb of Chains, and he would decimate the World in Flames, taking down Death himself. Then, the Cult would have to deal with Naevenrashta. But with Lucifer, that would be easy.
Then Lucifer would rule Earth, forever.
But in the Eternal Matrix of Past, Present, Future, and Non-Time, one figure was the one truly in control. All of these others were chess pieces. Lucifer and his Cult, as well as Molly's, and Death and Grindelwald, Naevenrashta, Voldermort, Longbottom, the goblins of Gripehrak, even the Legions of the Eternal Shadow, who none of these parties knew of but them. They, on the other hand, were both players. They chuckled at the false sense of security, dreams of power and certainty of being the highest order of all the factions who were in conflict.