Chapter 1: Lord Voldemort
"Who does he think he is? Ordering me around like a little kid. I mean, me Lord Voldemort!" he screamed as he paced back and forth. His bedroom was heavily decorated in the green and silver colors of Slytherine. No photographs were on the wall. No trace of any family at all.
"Well, I'll show him! I'll show him that Lord Voldemort is no kid!" and with that he stormed out in out into the hall of the dimly lit castle.
"Who still resists my power, Lucius?" asking the man in the corner. Lucius Malfoy, a tall, skinny, evil looking man with sleek blonde hair and dark blue walked over to him.
"Master, you still have the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts…" his voice trailed.
"Lord Voldemort, I think we should start with the Bones-"
"Lucius, it is for me to decide who we should start with!" he yelled
"S-sorry master!" he stuttered.
"Very well, I think we shall start with the Prewetts, yes the Prewetts," said Voldemort, his voice like ice, then he continued,
"Then I think we shall do the McKinnons, then we will do the Bones last!"
There was silence. No one made a sound, for no one dared.
"Well, what are you all staring at?! Get back to work!" he yelled and everyone scrambled to their duties. Voldemort glanced at his watch, shook his head, and decided that he was going to retire to his bed room for an hour or so. By the time he got there he found he was more tired than he thought.
Instead of sleeping, though, he contemplated his next move. He thought better on his own, anyways, he told himself.
He sighed, than sat down and began to think. I am already well-known, and have killed many important men, but… he thought to himself, but I want to be remembered for killing a great person. Who could he kill that would send the people fleeing from all over, contemplating this, he sat down and began to write the names of people he had killed and the ones who he knew were alive. McGanes, McGuns-thud-there was a knock at the door. Thud-it came again.
"What?! Can't you see I'm busy?!" he screamed.
"Sorry master, but this man, he, uh, said he was a friend of yours!" sputtered his servant.
"What's his name?"
"Crouch, his name is Crouch."
"Let him in!"
A thin man with straw- colored hair, stepped into the room. He was nervous, Voldemort noticed, he couldn't've been more than seventeen years old.
"Bartemus Crouch, ah, my excellent spy, how's your father?"
"My-my master, well, uh, he's fine, but I c-came to talk business." he stammered
"Well, you get right to the point!" he sneered,
"Come , let's talk." and with that he shut the door. No one noticed a fat, colorless-haired rat, scurry across the floor, out the door, and into the world.