"Lucius," Voldemort hissed malevolently. He was standing in a circle of
his black robed followers, pacing impatiently around. What was even worse,
he sounded pleased. "Report your findings about the Potter boy."
"Yes Master," the other man said, even his voice sounding oily as he stepped forwards out of the ranks, bowing deeply. "Our research indicates that he has been sent back in time. Knowing the old fool Dumbledore, we have come to the conclusion that he has returned to when his parents were in their own sixth year at school."
"Excellent Lucius, excellent. No doubt you have also found a suitable spell that we can use to follow him back, for mark my words, this time he shall not escape me and none of the meddling of the so-called Order of the Phoenix shall stop me. He is only a sixteen year old boy, no threat to the greatest Dark Lord of all time."
"Of course master, Pettigrew and Umbridge have a spell he believes might work, we have already tested it on a few animals."
"Rats?" Voldemort asked malevolently, enjoying the sight of the small Death Eater squirming uncomfortably where he stood in the ranks.
"No master, Wormtail appears to have a soft-spot for the little beasts."
"How . . . touching. Wormtail, come here!"
"Yes Master," the traitor said, stepping forwards and trembling visibly under his heavy black robes. Harry felt a moment of pity for him as he watched, unable to interfere. How could the incompetent, devoted boy that was James's constant shadow have dropped to this level? Meddling with the future or not, he was going to do his best to keep him with the Light.
"Showing weakness, are you Wormtail?"
"Sorry Master, I can't help it Master."
"A weak fool, are you not, Wormtail?"
"Yes Master, very weak."
"How inconvenient for me. I cannot allow my slaves to be weak, can I? Crucio!"
Harry woke up with a start, groaning. He wasn't sure how that dream had happened, but it had, the first one in months. Whether it was just a nightmare or not, he wasn't entirely sure, but he had a horrible suspicion that it was true. Whatever happened, he must be ready for it, and step up his training schedule. It might be his only hope of survival, and if Voldemort managed to kill his parents - he was sure the Dark Lord wouldn't care about consequences - he would never be born at all. This was life or death.
"Yes Master," the other man said, even his voice sounding oily as he stepped forwards out of the ranks, bowing deeply. "Our research indicates that he has been sent back in time. Knowing the old fool Dumbledore, we have come to the conclusion that he has returned to when his parents were in their own sixth year at school."
"Excellent Lucius, excellent. No doubt you have also found a suitable spell that we can use to follow him back, for mark my words, this time he shall not escape me and none of the meddling of the so-called Order of the Phoenix shall stop me. He is only a sixteen year old boy, no threat to the greatest Dark Lord of all time."
"Of course master, Pettigrew and Umbridge have a spell he believes might work, we have already tested it on a few animals."
"Rats?" Voldemort asked malevolently, enjoying the sight of the small Death Eater squirming uncomfortably where he stood in the ranks.
"No master, Wormtail appears to have a soft-spot for the little beasts."
"How . . . touching. Wormtail, come here!"
"Yes Master," the traitor said, stepping forwards and trembling visibly under his heavy black robes. Harry felt a moment of pity for him as he watched, unable to interfere. How could the incompetent, devoted boy that was James's constant shadow have dropped to this level? Meddling with the future or not, he was going to do his best to keep him with the Light.
"Showing weakness, are you Wormtail?"
"Sorry Master, I can't help it Master."
"A weak fool, are you not, Wormtail?"
"Yes Master, very weak."
"How inconvenient for me. I cannot allow my slaves to be weak, can I? Crucio!"
Harry woke up with a start, groaning. He wasn't sure how that dream had happened, but it had, the first one in months. Whether it was just a nightmare or not, he wasn't entirely sure, but he had a horrible suspicion that it was true. Whatever happened, he must be ready for it, and step up his training schedule. It might be his only hope of survival, and if Voldemort managed to kill his parents - he was sure the Dark Lord wouldn't care about consequences - he would never be born at all. This was life or death.