Summary: On Halloween, 1981 the Dark Lord Voldemort disappeared, leaving a kingdom. In June 1994 he's taking back what's his and heaven and hell will fall silent.

Disclaimer: "If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended,

That you did but slumber'd here while these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme is no more yielding then a dream."

-Midsummer's Night Dream

"Every intelligent man knew that disaster was impending

and knew of no way to stop it."

-H. G Wells

The Gathering Storm

By: Lady Erised

There was change in the air and it made people nervous. It hung in the air like a Grim, watching and waiting. Time had become elusive and it counted down, determined to reach its end by any means necessary. But what that end was no one knew. It was like the world itself was tensed and coiled. There was energy in the air, akin to mighty thundering readying to sound or a viper rearing up to strike and each day and night that passed seemed only to add to the urgency.

A tense guerrilla war called the Dark Times was about to begin its twelfth year and didn't show any signs of ending. People on both sides of the conflict were tense, and eager for action but not for war. They lived with one hand over the wand and the other holding a love one. Magical Governments around the world were jumping at shadows, sending innocent people to jail or turning them over to those thinly veiled demons, the Dementors even as they allowed the true monsters roam free in fine, tailored robes with glittering smiles posing for the pictures. Everyone looked to the Aurors to help they couldn't even help themselves. Hecate Compound, their headquarters, was impotent- filled with moles and spies that crippled her defensives and took her best and brightest too soon.

The people's only hope was the Order of Phoenix; a motley crew of Aurors, Ministry Workers, common men and spies within the Death Eater ranks under Albus Dumbledore. This group of civilians, under a schoolteacher, was the greatest hope against the Dark Lord Voldemort, his Dark Prince and their Death Eaters.

It was almost laughable.

However right now, no one was laughing for what the Order of Phoenix didn't know was that Lord Voldemort was weakened and near death, leaving the Dark Prince in charge. But Voldemort's lesser lieutenants were beginning to smell weakness and there was treachery stirring. It made the air charged and ready for change.

"How many of those have you smoked tonight?" Kiernan Malone asked his brother as they stood together in the snow, freezing. Still the cold was preferable to Maude's wrath.

Eoin looked at his brother, "Too many, why?"

"Because I remember a story you told me a while ago, about growing up Kaga." Kiernan whispered, pacing to keep warm. "You said one of the things you had to learn was to make poisons out of seemingly innocent things. You said that nicotine in its purest form was a potent poison, rivaling most magical ones. You even mentioned that it was odorless, tasteless and fast-acting…it was amazing really."

"Okay, okay." Eoin smirked to himself. "This'll be my last one."

"Thanks, good."

He smashed the butt under his boot and pulled his brother into a chokehold. Kiernan groaned and struggled and they both tumbled, rather then walked into the house.

Maude De Valera Malone frowned at both them. "Look at my men, prancing around like children while there's chores to be done. Kier, come get these dishes and Eoin mind this roast."

"And where are you going?" Eoin asked, bringing her into his arms and kissing her gently.

Maude pulled away and wiped her hands on her apron. "To check on Angelo."

Kiernan and Eoin watched her disappear upstairs. Eoin's eyes lingered for a moment longer then his brother's; his eyes bright with love and dimmed with sadness of family not with him. Kiernan reached over and touched his shoulder. He whispered softly. "It's not too late to back down from this recklessness."

"The Dark Prince is wavering and his indecision risks us all. I was among the first followers of Lord Voldemort's. I was by his side long before this Prince entered the scene and I will not see what I have fought and bleed for rip asunder by the Prince's hesitancy." Eoin said with uncharacteristic passion. "If he is unable to act, it is time for another who is."

"You?"

"No, not I." He whispered, shaking his head. "But maybe him."

The front door had opened to reveal Erskine Raine, followed shortly by Adrien and Natalie Lestranges. Natalie was holding her newborn daughter.

Erskine held up a bottle of wine. "I hope this is all right, I know Maude usually doesn't approve of drinking in her house but certainly this one time."

"Only because you asked nicely, Raine." Called Maude from the stairs, she called to Natalie, "Come, let me see the little one!"

"Alright Maude, I'm coming!" Natalie laughed as she strolled towards her.

Adrien walked to Erskine and the Malone brothers, "Is Jack coming?"

"We can't trust her, she's too close to Severus."

"Erskine, have you seen the Master?"

"He's well, recovering but well."

"Do you know what happened?" Kiernan asked. "What was this all about? He was in no attack, he fought no one as far as I understood."

"It was an attack on the Coven."

"What?" Adrien hissed. He slipped some of the wine he had been pouring. "What do you mean the Coven was attacked?"

"Actually it was more of an ambush." Raine sat down, taking up a glass of iced tea. "From what I know, the eldest two children went with two Sires on a training session. But someone somewhere dropped the ball and the Aurors found out. They were waiting for them. The Aurors took out two of them, injured one."

Kiernan glanced at his brother who was watching with hidden interest. Eoin spoke in a soft voice. "He lost a girl child earlier this year, didn't he?"

Raine nodded. "And with these two dead, it leaves only ten left in the Coven."

"Why is the Coven so important?"

Raine laughed at that question. "And that, dear Kiernan, is the question isn't it?"

Seven months had passed since Severus Snape had last visited this little unknown asylum in the woods of the Irish coastland. The house still stood proud and alone, hiding from everyone and time. The simple, two story wooden house still needed a coat of fresh paint and some minor repairs. It still seemed to swallow up the light and command the darkness. The silence still hung around the House but still called to you silently; inviting you to see what mystery it hides. He looked up and studied the ancient house. Sometimes, things never changed.

"This is where they live?"

Severus Snape had been so lost in his musings; he had forgotten the woman by his side. In fact when he turned his head, he was half-surprised not to see Drucilla by his side. That was impossible though, because Drucilla Dawson was dead. He swallowed hard thinking about the pale blond beauty that had done so much for him, now lost and gone in some deep, unforgiving pit. These treks of the forest had been one of her greatest joys. He swallowed again, trying desperately to fight to keep the lump in his throat out of his voice. He didn't need for Lucinda to sense weakness. Valkyries smelled weakness like dogs smelled meat. He didn't need any more enemies.

The Valkyries were Voldemort's personal bodyguards and loyal retainers; and were among the most beautiful mages ever seen. The Valkyries also doubled as the Dark Lord's personal harem and male Death Eaters would have better sense courting Albus Dumbledore or Mad Eye Moody then try and woo a Valkyrie. But as Severus studied Lucinda again he felt a swell of pride because Valkyries' were often a privilege reserved for Voldemort and occasionally his Dark Prince.

"Yes," Snape replied. "This is the hideout of the Wizarding World's greatest danger."

"You'd think there'd be a sign or a plaque, wouldn't you?"

Snape laughed. Lucinda was a handsome specimen of strength and beauty. Her intense golden eyes set under tight braids invited you to admire her but it was her dark brown skin, graceful neck and bold cheekbones made her look like a Queen and made you fall under her spell. Firm, pronounced muscles gleamed under slender cut robes of fine silk and Severus was certain this woman could break him in half, if she wanted too. That constant threat only added to the pleasure of his sharp, biting remarks.

"It's in the mail." He mused. Liam and Declan came out to greet them with the other Sire, Alistair, following. Severus met each of them with a curt nod, mindful as ever of his duties. He then walked inside to see the children.

Garridan was waiting. "Hello, milord."

"So tell me," He kept his voice defined and dull. "How are the children?"

"Well, Master Snape, they are still weak, however." He glanced around. "Where's the Valkyrie?"

"She's outside, with the Sires." Snape noted that Garridan had holding his arm in front him, mindful of its tenderness for the battle.

A week ago he, and another Coven child Ophelia had gone with their teachers Alistair and Ian on a training session. It was suppose to have been routine: attack a safe house, kill everyone and disappear into the shadows.

But this time, the Aurors were waiting for them. Alistair had escaped unscathed and he was the lucky one. Garridan suffered only a broken arm; Ian and Ophelia both had not survived the attack.

Snape took the news in stride with the slightest whisper of joy. He had reported the attack to Gideon merely for boredom's sake but quite by accident he had found Voldemort's immortality rested with these children. In a way, he should have seen it earlier. This attack had weakened Voldemort; two of the Coven dead, one injured, in addition to losing Alchemy months earlier; it was taxing on Voldemort's power. The Dark Lord was weak right now and would remain so until Garridan had fully recovered. So he was keeping Garridan safe in his pumpkin shell, safe and well. And therein laid his weakness: his greatest strength would be his downfall.

Voldemort needed the Coven to remain in power, to remain strong and alive. It was his lifeline, his taste of immortality. They worked like a safety net for him, and as long as they were well: he was well.

Which meant, taking down the Coven one by one would leave Voldemort not only weak but mortal. Then all it would all be over.

The date was October 25, 1981. One week till Halloween.