Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.
Chapter 13
The next morning
A single golden leaf detached itself from a branch and pirouetted down an invisible spiral of breeze, spinning through the air as it let itself be carried down. Its elegant dance went unnoticed by the arboreal creatures inhabiting the surrounding trees as they were still slumbering away peacefully in the early darkness of the crisp autumn morning.
The leaf had almost completed its descent and was just about to land gracefully on the soft ground, when it was suddenly whisked upwards by the grip of an unnatural icy wind. Soaring upwards, the leaf was carried far and wide into the gradually brightening sky, its ambers and bronzes standing out even in the murkiness.
The aged leaf finally knew its purpose in life as the wind currents gently guided it towards an open window. When its humble genesis from seed to sapling to adult was ultimately coming to an end, the first shimmering rays of dawn peaked over the placid forest, bestowing a golden path that swathed across the horizon.
The wind currents finally dissipated and the leaf fluttered downwards towards a sleeping young girl in one final descent; down towards a young girl that carried the entire weight of the world on her small shoulders.
Ariana woke up with a muted yelp as she felt something caresses her face, causing her to sit up and flail about blindly for a second in the soft darkness. Soft sheets wrapped her up in a warm cocoon as she waited for a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the gloomy surroundings. Still half-awake, she hazily spotted the offending article on her lap.
"The ruddy window was left open," she groaned as she flopped back down on her pillow in tiredness, picking up the leaf and crushing it in her fist in annoyance. As she carelessly tossed its crumbled remains over the side of her hospital bed, a small gust of air swept past her and lightly carried the floating remnants out the window and back down to the forest.
Nature had claimed back what was theirs.
After tossing and turning for a few minutes, she disgruntledly sat upright in her bed as she decided that going back to sleep was impossible. Normally, Ariana would have woken up earlier for researching or training but for the first time in a long while, she had a peaceful night's sleep. This was a rare time where she went without waking up in a cold sweat, drowned in the memories of a past life that never seemed to fade away.
She then calmed her breathing and closed her eyes, uttering a mantra that she had been chanting… or attempting to chant every morning ever since she revealed her time travelling to Albus. With her entire body relaxed, she opened her mouth and let out a soft murmur.
"My real name is…"
She let out a choked sound as the muscles in her throat tensed up. She continued to sitting upright as she recovered from the spasm, clad only in a hospital gown that was decorated with tiny pink hibiscuses.
Say it… SAY IT.
"My real name is… i-is…H-," she stammered, her own tongue denying her and forcefully folding back onto itself as she felt her mind writhing about like a thrashing animal in its death throes.
Ariana noisily exhaled in a shudder as she gave up, opening her eyes wearily and looking towards the open window as the first few drops of golden sunlight bathed her in a soft halo.
"Why, just… why?" she whispered to herself as her dainty fingers curled and grasped onto the cotton bed sheet tightly. She had a million and one questions but there was no one to answer her.
It was then, for the first time in this strange new place, that Ariana felt truly alone. No family to call on, no friends to speak of that could offer recourse, no living being that truly knew her for who she was.
She desperately wanted a confidant, one whom she could spill out everything that she kept bottled up tightly within her heart. Albus was out of the equation as every time she tried to bring something up about her past life with him, her mouth automatically locked shut for an infuriatingly unknown reason.
A faint rustling outside of her screen that enclosed her bed made her jump slightly and broke her out of her mesh of muddled thoughts. Curious as she always will be, she slowly unwrapped herself from the deliciously warm sheets and slid off her bed, jamming her feet into a waiting pair of white woollen slippers on the stone floor.
Peeking out from behind the screen, her inquisitive eyes scanned every corner of the gradually brightening hospital wing until they finally rested upon the dim silhouette of a sleeping body that was occupying one of the beds on the far side of the room.
Deciding to let the other patient rest peacefully, she turned back and gathered up her robes that she was going to change into but suddenly froze in the process, as she realized whom the mop of hair from the unknown patient belonged to.
She slowly peeked out to look at the still mass on the other side of the Hospital Wing, contemplating on whether to avoid the situation entirely. After pacing around and internally fighting for a few minutes, she finally decided on her course of action and slowly crept towards the unmoving figure.
As she drew nearer to the patient, she sorrowfully heard sounds of sharp, shallow breaths filled with barely disguised pain from the sleeping convalescent.
A gaunt and taut face of a boy that had aged too quickly greeted her when she finally arrived as stringy and wavy brown hair framed a sharp nose, high cheekbones and pale lips. He was not wearing a hospital gown, but rather his Hogwarts robes instead. Numerous holes and slash marks covered the cloth, the visibility allowing her to see old scars that lay on top of one another in a never ending count.
Ariana's heart flooded open as she tip-toed to look at the strained face of someone she truly cared about.
"My dear Remus," she whispered as memories poured forth from the depths of her mind, feeling a light tingling of magic that restlessly bubbled within her.
When Sirius died in her past life, the glue that held her together was from a certain Professor that shared an even greater guilt, an even greater sorrow, and an even greater anguish than her. Selflessly pushing all his own feelings aside, Remus had tried his hardest to keep her head above the water level as she pitifully wasted away in the Dursleys.
Remus had cared for her above all else, including himself.
With a trembling hand, Ariana lightly pushed aside some thin hair out of his face as she bent forward to look closer at his face. She felt powerful magic unwillingly surge through her as white light gently began to pulsate from her already pale skin.
An unfamiliar sensation within her caused her to perform an action she had never done before in either of her lives, past or present. She placed both of her soft hands on his bony cheeks and leaned down slowly, planting a tender kiss on Remus's forehead, unaware that she was physically glowing as her mind was too focused on her person in front of her.
Ariana's eyes widened as Remus stirred slightly from the contact and quickly detached, scooting back as quietly as she could back into safely of her bed, the light emanating from her skin fading too quickly for her realize what had happened.
With no particular reason, she suddenly felt an intense feeling of happiness surge through every fibre of her being, casting out all dismal thoughts and feelings of isolation that she was harbouring.
As she sat cross-legged on her soft white bed, a single thought thundered through her mind as her mouth lifted up into a soft smile.
I am not alone.
The Nemegt Basin; located in the north-western Gobi Desert, southern Mongolia.
A lone house lay in the middle of the basin, its decrepit nature looking as if it were to fall apart any second from the dust that was violently whipping against it. A more experienced eye would eventually notice the layer after layer of magic lovingly imbued into every grain of wood and every piece of nail, the strong magic keeping the place together through the harshest of sandstorms.
A harsh crack of sound that resembled lightning echoed loudly in a desolate area, causing some of the loose rock on the sides of the valley to tremble and lose their battle against gravity, tumbling downwards in a dusty landslide.
Four individuals stepped out of the shack into the scorching sun, their thick black robes making a highly suspect item of choice to wear in this torrid environment. A muffled voice called out through the wind as the four individuals inspected their surroundings.
"The cave is just up ahead," a masked man yelled loudly as he could over the howling wind, pointing forwards with his right hand while the other hand held a curious device that resembled an astrolabe.
The obvious leader of the present company gave a nod of approval and marched forward in the blazing sun, his three followers trailing after him after casting cooling and wind-buffering charms of every sort on themselves, indicating clearly that they were unused to such searing temperatures.
The cruel sun beat down on the four travellers with its malevolent unblinking eye as the sky acted as a co-conspirator, with not even a wisp of cloud to soften the harsh rays.
They encountered a path that led them up to a trail that had been created by imprints that by no means belonged to man. It was obscured by bushes and fallen rocks and sloped high into a valley. The path halted and a sinister-looking cave appeared, desert foliage winding around the entrance that almost hid the jagged opening from sight.
Just as the head of the group was about to enter the dark cave, a voice behind caused a stoppage of movement.
"I still don't understand," a cloaked man uttered, a refined tone colouring his perplexity.
"Why do we need these creatures to aid us again?"
A hearty laugh filled the air in response, the noise echoing as it bounced off the entrance and down into the ominous cave.
"Really, Lucius… now of all times?" Tom Riddle pointed out in mild amusement, a smirk adorning his handsome and unnaturally youthful face.
Lucius Malfoy, recently appointed head of the venerated Malfoy bloodline, sheepishly coughed and began to spout apologies to which his master stopped short with a lazy wave of his hand.
Voldemort turned towards his followers with his arms outstretched.
"Make no mistake, all three of you are the most devoted and capable of my Death Eaters," he began slowly, causing the two men and woman in front of him to stand up straight at the statement.
"I assure you, my views have not changed… only my methods," he enunciated.
The lone female could not help herself as she interrupted her master with zeal.
"They are filthy beasts, my Lord. They have no place among the pure," she cried out vehemently, her stocky body tensing up in fury.
Voldemort cocked his head at her.
"They are still magical in nature are they not? Half-breed does not equate to half-blood. You compare the natural degradation of a magical species to the insidious dilution of magical genes," he countered matter-of-factly to one of the Carrow siblings.
The other masked man could not contain his thoughts any longer as he too joined the discourse.
"Alecto, quiet your tongue. This is clearly our master's grand plan to keep a watchful eye on the unknown variables while we carry out The Cause," he asserted, his rugged face adorned with a gleaming fire in his eyes.
"In addition, if anything goes wrong politically that does not concern financial matters, we always have the beasts as a scapegoat."
Voldemort gave a small clap as he regarded Antonin Dolohov, one of his most formidable Death Eaters.
"Very adroitly explained...," he commended, "…but that is not all there is to it."
"Come, let us finish our business here before I explain the rest," he commanded before whirling around and striding with purpose towards the inky throat of the cave. As his prized followers obediently begun walking in step behind him, they noted with mild interest that the floor was littered with an immeasurable amount of skeletons of what were once sentient creatures.
After walking in the cave for a few minutes, guided and bathed from the light from their wands, Lord Voldemort suddenly and noiselessly stopped the adventuring party with a raised hand as they reached a large open area.
Long winding streams that quietly meandered down the rock surfaces around them shone in the most brilliant colours of lilac and viridian. The mist that hung above them was long and wispy, almost translucent to a point where one could only see faint silhouettes against the craggy backdrop of the grotto.
The tranquillity was suddenly broken when a giant ball of fire sudden launched itself from across the open cavern, temporarily revealing a large and scaled mouth in the brief blaze as it hurtled towards the seemingly unsuspecting group.
Voldemort saw the fire out of the corner of his eye and in calm preparedness, raised a red book in front of him with a large silver rune inscribed on its surface depicting the outline of a roaring waterfall. The ball of fire that had been steadily approaching suddenly flickered and dissipated into nothingness, its last embers scattering across the cavern in a shimmering display.
"The Magic of Old," a voice rumbled in the language of serpents from the darkness, curiosity painting the hiss. "Who are you I wonder, to wield such ancient magic?"
Voldemort saw immediately that the conversation had started off favourably on his side, and intended to gain capital on it.
"Great beast, my knowledge of the ancient arts is second to none in this world, and in the world beyond," Voldemort hissed in return with confidence.
Another surprised rumble filled the cave at the use of Parseltongue. An intrigued head poked out of the darkness and into the dim light of the wands.
"Antonin was right after all… this is indeed a wayward Catalonian Fireball. A fine species," Voldemort murmured to himself as the visible head scrutinized him with piercing and highly intelligent eyes. Dragons had an ego that was unrivalled by any magical being and would only converse with one that was as big as theirs.
Without giving the dragon a chance to speak, Voldemort stowed the runic book back into his robes as a show of good faith and began to speak.
"I request an audience as the only descent alive of Salazar Slytherin," he assertively appealed as he opened his palms upwards the dragon, showing that there was no weapon in either hand.
The Catalonian Fireball paused for a second before exhaling in a nasally breath of contempt, blowing hot steam into Voldemort's face from its nose.
"I have nothing to offer to the world of humans," it hissed as the shadowy head slinked back once more into the darkness.
"Leave, kin of Salazar, before you face my full wrath."
Voldemort was unperturbed by the abrupt denial. "You are one of the last free dragons in this world," he called out to the retreating head, "I intend to change that fact."
A loud and menacing growl permeated the air for a brief second, deafening enough for the other Death Eaters to clap their hands over their ears in pain.
"Explain."
Voldemort pulled out a glass cube from his robes and threw it on the rocky floor in front of him. When it hit the floor, it did not shatter but instead levitated up to his waist and started projecting images in the air. Images of countless magical beasts flashed rapidly in succession, each one telling a different story.
"Centaurs, Pixies, Thestrals, Merpeople, Gnomes, and many more, roam free and untouched," Voldemort began, synchronizing his hisses with the flashing images that appeared out of the magical cube.
The images then switched to a darker tone, "Yet while some creatures roam free, other creatures, including dragons, have all been captured and enslaved by humans… often for their own entertainment," he continued as he lit a ball of fire in his hand wandlessly and snuffed it out for emphasis.
As images of caged beasts flicked by more and more rapidly, a giant scaled paw came crashing down onto the cube out of the darkness, causing the fragments to scatter across the open area in a million different fragments.
"ENOUGH!" it bellowed, the sound echoing around the large cavern.
"My brethren… locked up as slaves? We were once the kings of the skies. Tell me what CHANGED," it roared in fury as it slammed its gigantic paw against the rocky ground with the last word, causing the group to unceremoniously topple to the floor from the impact.
The room was still visibly vibrating from the dragons' anger as Voldemort leapt agilely back onto his feet.
"The Muggles," he softly crooned, his powerful voice easily rising above the din.
"Once the Magical community realized that the Muggles were causing too much trouble when catching sight of magical beasts, they began to lock down on every last one in an effort to preserve their ancient secrecy."
Voldemort was not done yet as he begun the fiery tirade anew.
"What separates Dragon from Centaur, man from beast, strong from the weak? This world has changed for the worse," he spat, his eyes flashing a bright red temporarily.
"Pandering to all in their weak mindedness, people now deal in morals and social justice, instead of truths and facts. It is a great poison to our current society," he snarled in extreme loathing.
"The world needs to be reshaped with an iron fist, where men, women and beast alike can be given individuality and can carry out their wills without the regard or judgement of the spineless and lesser minded," he finished powerfully, with a voice brimming with youthful charisma and energy.
For around half a minute there was total silence, and Voldemort had feared that his argument had failed to persuade the beast.
Out of the blue, the dragon suddenly launched out from the opaque darkness and stopped his head a mere few feet away from Voldemort, causing his three loyal companions to jump back from the sudden movement, its blistering breath causing their skin to turn raw from the close proximity.
"And where exactly… wizard, do you fit in with this plan?" it lowly purred as a forked tongue flicked around in the air, the fetid vapours and odours that oozed from its powerful and scaly jaw overpowering Voldemort's senses.
Voldemort gave a bitter laugh despite the heat and miasma as he fearlessly stared directly at the beasts' narrowed yellow slits.
"Total freedom is no different from total chaos," he murmured to himself in a brief respite from the harsh language of serpents, decades of experience gone by not showing on his abnormally young face.
He gazed at the waiting beast with an unsmiling and unreadable countenance.
"Degradation of a system as a whole does not mean that all its elements are beginning to disintegrate," he replied as he blatantly avoided the dragon's question, causing the dragon to widen its eyes in rage.
"For a cause to actually take effect there must be certain conditions," he continued in fervour. "Conditions cannot in themselves give rise to the effect, for the cause is also powerless without them."
Voldemort would have continued on further, but the dragon violently blew out steaming vapour from its enormous nostrils in anger, covering and obscuring him entirely from head to toe.
"The Principle of Causality," his voice elucidated through the smoke as it was clearing, unperturbed by the action.
Voldemort's imposing face then came into view… a face full of sincerity, justice, anger, hunger, knowledge and most of all, power.
"We cannot move even our little finger without disturbing the universe," he finished with passion, extending both his arms outwards the dragon as if he were holding the entire world in his arms.
The entire cavern was absolutely still as the dragon looked intensely into Voldemort's dark eyes, searching his soul for any signs of untruths or chicanery. It pulled its head back into the shadows with a smug huff once it saw was it was looking for.
An ear-splitting roar accompanied by the terrifying loud sound of hard scales dragged upon jagged rocks seemed to pale in comparison to the noise it made as it pulled itself out of the shadows and came thundering into full view, causing rocks and stalactites to rain down around the group of humans from the sheer force of its arrival.
They could fully see for the first time the fearsome and temperamental beast that Voldemort had been conversing with as it towered above them.
The streaks of golden and flecks of golden indicated that this Catalonian Fireball was an adult female, weighing roughly twenty tons and standing fifty feet tall. It was a smooth scaled scarlet dragon, with a leonine face and a ring of golden spikes along the jaw, framing its face. Its sub-snouted face and extremely protuberant eyes were only emphasized by a row of terrifying sharp teeth that was designed to rip, tear and ravage.
"I know what you desire, Snakeling… and I also know what you want of me," it gutturally hissed, flames licking at the back its throat as the clever beast gazed dispassionately upon them.
"I will inform the others of my decision."
This was something Voldemort had not predicted as he gave a start of surprise, temporarily lowering his guard.
"Others? Decision?" he echoed as he cocked his head.
"There are more of us, young one," the ancient dragon boomed, flapping his powerful crimson wings as its scales rippled with anticipation for a day that has been long-waited. "There was a time when beast walked beside man in total harmony, unhindered by petty laws or injunctions."
"To free my brethren, victory is unobtainable through magic or blood, but only by words and understanding."
The dragon's words seemed to stir something deep in the black pits of Voldemort's heart.
"Come, kin of Salazar, we have a great task laid before us."
Fire licked at the back of its throat as it then proclaimed something that seemed impossible - save to the fearsome prodigy that was Voldemort.
"To free the very nature of man from itself."
The dragon flying off in the sunset made for quite a sight as muscular wings gave it speed that no broom could ever hope to match. When the tiny dot on the horizon finally vanished, Voldemort turned towards his three patient and silent followers, breathing a sigh of relief at the positive outcome.
His eyes hardened as he knew time was of the essence for him. Getting up from sitting position at the entrance of the cave, he turned towards his loyal supporters as the vanishing sun threw its soft pink rays upon them.
"Now, comes the second reason as to why we are in Mongolia. We are completely untraceable here," he began as he addressed his followers.
Plunging his hands into his robes, he pulled out three unique necklaces that had an image of a red, yellow, and green snake engraved into the centrepiece respectively.
"Listen closely. I am going to be… unavailable for a few months. Therefore, I have tasks of paramount importance for each of you in my absence," he continued as he pressed his index finger into all three of the snakes one after another, causing them to shimmer for a brief second as they each activated.
He then turned toward Lucius with a burning intensity that other wizards and witches would be hard-pressed to match.
"Lucius, the current state of the Ministry is in shambles, as you well know," he began, their eyes locking as Lucius placed the green necklace around his neck. "Your necklace is an artifact that will greatly aid you in the art of persuasion."
"There is an inflexible dichotomy between the economic and political powers in the Wizarding World. The businessman's tool is values; the bureaucrat's tool is fear. Your task is to make them one and the same," he commanded.
Lucius' reverent bow was all he needed to confirm that his will would be carried out.
He then turned to Antonin, a master strategist who was light-years ahead of his peers and was rarely beaten in any setting of planned combat.
Voldemort looked to the ground as his mind raced through his dark memories during World War II, the harsh reality of the human condition shaping him for who he was.
"Dolohov, the age of deterrence has become the age of control." he heavily sighed, "The Muggles call it M.A.D."
Antonin scrunched his face is perplexity as he tried to make sense of what his master was trying to say.
"M.A.D, my Lord?"
Voldemort nodded as he paced up and down, "Mutually Assured Destruction, is what they call it. Basically, if one wanted to completely annihilate an enemy, the enemy would in turn completely annihilate them back."
Antonin laughed mirthlessly, "Surely you jest, My Lord. Muggles don't have that kind of power,"
Voldemort's face grew dark as the images of mushroom-shaped clouds coalesced in his mind.
"Yes, they do," he quietly correctly.
"Muggles kill, consume, torture, interrogate for no reason but because their superiors ordered it, or even for their own pleasure. On the other hand, when we take a life, it has meaning, it has purpose; for rituals; for sacrifices; for power."
"Muggles... they need no purpose to invade and plunder and destroy everything they touch. As long as I have the will and strength, these Muggles will not destroy our sacred society," he growled, a feral snarl appearing on his handsome face.
He placed the second necklace in one hand and proffered it towards Antonin with one final adage.
"He who controls the battlefield… controls history."
Antonin's face grew solemn as he recognized his unspoken task and accepted the mysterious necklace, knowing full well what it was capable of. The yellow hue on the serpent had a similar colour to the dust and sand that stretched for miles around them.
Voldemort then finally turned toward Alecto, a being of pure magical prowess that was feared by all on the battlefield.
Her loud and composed voice suddenly filled the air once his attention focused on her, cutting him off entirely before he even started.
"My lord, you've changed recently."
Voldemort raised a curious eyebrow at the unexpected declaration.
"Not in a bad way I hope?" he smirked in mild amusement.
Alecto let out a shaky breath before answering, "No, my Lord. You're actually starting to make sense now."
Lucius and Antonin gasped at her blatant disrespect and both began to talk over each other in unison at her. Their clamorous din was suddenly muzzled by a powerful non-verbal silencing spell.
The air dropped by a few degrees as Voldemort took a slow step towards Alecto. Every instinct in her screamed at her to run away, but her muscles firmly locked in place as she held her ground.
"Explain," he said softly, in a dangerous voice that promised pain unlike any other if the answer displeased him.
Alecto steadied her breath and looked him square in the eye.
"For the past few years… your teachings have just been to simply drive all Muggle presence from the Wizarding World, without regard for consequence or the Old Teachings," she hesitatingly began.
"Now however, you proactively want to protect this Wizarding World from all dangers and restore it into new heights to which the world has never seen before," she continued with bright shining eyes.
"For that, my life is eternally in your hands until I fall in battle, or until time itself vanquishes me," she ended reverently as she knelt to the ground on one knee with a lowered head in humble respect, her stocky body tensing up for what could be multiple rounds of the Cruciatus for her outspoken insolence.
All was silent for a brief moment; the only sound to be heard was her heavy breathing in the gentle wind of the desert evening. Suddenly, something cool touched her neck, causing her to jump in shock instead of pain.
As she dared to look up, she only saw the hands of her master, placing the final red necklace around her neck and fixing it at her nape.
This act of forgiveness was too much for the loyal Death Eater. She broke down as hot tears burst forth like water from a dam from her luminous eyes.
"Truly, you are the master that the Wizarding World needs," she wept, as Voldemort firmly pulled her to her feet.
He waited for a few seconds for her to calm down as she furiously wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, embarrassed that she had temporarily lost control in front of her fellow Death Eaters.
"Alecto, your presence on the field of battle is one of inspiration to the newer recruits. Your task is to now dogmatize my new teachings, in a manner so that they fully understand the failing society that we are living in."
Alecto's watery eyes squinted uncertainty, "New… teachings, my Lord?"
Voldemort ignored her and cast his eyes upwards towards the gradually brightening stars. The sun had just finally set and the heat of the day had ebbed to comforting warmth. The light of the day drained away, giving way to the velvety dark of night, the chirping crickets, and the cloudless sky that bestowed an unfettered view of the heavens.
Wandlessly conjuring a sphere to light to give them vision, Voldemort placed his hands behind his back as he looked back at Alecto. Glancing briefly at Lucius and Antonin to show them that they too were instructed to listen, he began his uninterrupted and electrifying speech.
"Think of the Oracles at Delphi when Greece was at the peak of its power, in full control of the lands and seas," he began as he animatedly described each scenario.
"Think of the Prophets at the Great Pyramids when the Egyptians were at the peak of their power, inspiring millions to work with unquestionable devotion."
"Think of the Sibyls and Augurs at the temples in Rome, who governed and protected their land as it expanded its empire to proportions that seemed humanly impossible."
Voldemort then clenched his fists in anger, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw the first signs of blood.
"Then, all of sudden, these vast empires simply... fell."
"Each story has a similar thematic layout, with each society being infested with an increasing count of Muggles which discover the existence of magic."
"The Olympian Gods for example, were the Grecian's way of quantifying a group of Delphic oracles, who were extremely powerful witches and wizards."
"For the Egyptians it was the Pharaohs, and for the Romans it was stories of heroes like Horatius or Aeneas."
"All of them, stories about accomplished wizards or witches. All of them… failed attempts to quantify the unquantifiable."
"The Muggles, in their fear of the unknown, caused great empires to fall to reasons that ranged from politics to linguistics, from demagoguery to utilitarianism, from belief to the clashing of spears and shields."
"All of these calamities stem from a single point in history… when Muggles first discover the existence of magic."
"This vicious cycle we are living in can be broken... and this I will make happen," he vowed, his eyes alight with flame.
Voldemort's dark eyes smouldered with passion as he gazed into the captivated eyes of his followers.
"Now I ask you… are you with me?"
The deafening roar of the voices mixed and echoed around the desert, the noise loud of enough to shake every rock and pebble in the entire basin and loud enough to stir every heart and set it alight with a burning fire that seemed almost unquenchable.
Voldemort grinned savagely at his faithful disciples.
"Come then, let us save this rotting world with our blood-stained hands, one step at a time."
