Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters used in my fan fiction. I solemnly wish that I did though. They however, belong to JK Rowling, author of the amazing series.

Author's notes: The next Harry Potter book (Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince) has got me thinking about the final ending of the series. This fiction is just my attempt at a final ending between Harry and Voldemort. I hope you like it. On with the show!

Lord and Servant

On a deserted, well, nearly deserted street there is a house. However, this house is not a home, it's just a host. No one would suspect it of holding the worst type of evil imaginable, the evilest creature imaginable. It is merely a temporary place for one to rest and catch up on his or her plans for complete domination of the world.

The house is made of stone; pure, hard, gray rocks much like that of the heart of the creature who stays in the house and it stands alone. Cold air seeps through the cracks in the wall, depriving the entire structure of warmth, and when the sun goes down darkness encases it.

The only source of heat or light, or any type of life at all is that from the fire. The fire within burns from late at night until early in the morning when it is extinguished. The light from the flames flickers across the room, spreading into the far corners where stone meets stone, complete with the ancient cobwebs. It flickers on the dusty, rotting furniture, creating distorted shapes and images on the wall, enough to give a toddler harsh nightmares. The light flickers on two figures siting on the furniture inside the room and casts shadows in the creases of their hard faces.

The two men sit by the fire, one on a large, cushion chair, the other on a deserted molding love seat, covered in dust. On the floor close to the fire is a large coiled mass.

The man on the love seat is small, smaller than the man in the chair. He has a bald patch at the top of his head, and his face wears the expression of fear with a hint of anxiety. He sits silently in his spot, slightly hunched over and quivering. He gives the appearance as though he is anxiously awaiting something, bad news perhaps.

The man in the cushion chair is very, very thin, almost skeletal and he sits tall. His skin is pale and his eyes sunken deep inside his skull almost completely hidden in the shadows cast by the flickering flames. His face contrasts that of the smaller man remarkably. There isn't a trace of fear on that reptilian, putrid face; in fact, he looks almost bored as he leans back casually in the decaying chair. A smirk plays across his lips suddenly. The smaller man shudders, not sure if it is because of the cold or the man in the chair.

"I've been thinking." The voice coming from the man in the chair is high and cold. It comes out hoarse and hard, more so than the rock used to build this house.

"A-about w-what my L-Lord." The smaller mans voice is squeaky and irritable. When the words manage to come out, almost every word is stuttered and fear drips from them.

"Harry Potter."

"My L-Lord?"

"I have grown tired of this game. I, the great Lord Voldemort, owner of the most feared name in the wizarding world, am left sitting in a stone room with a pathetic excuse for a life." Anger was now clear in that cold, high voice. When he spoke there was an almost hissing quality to his words, which echoed throughout the room.

The smaller man winced. He clearly feared this Lord Voldemort. "My L-Lord, y-you are of able b-body now. Y-your death eaters are w-with you. You h-have m-many l-loyal servants r-ready to do your b-b-biding"

"Loyal? Ha" Voldemort replied with a powerful yet hollow laugh. There was no real emotion behind it. It rang throughout the house, banging off the walls. "You do raise a good point though Wormtail."

"W-what is th-that my L-L-Lord?" Wormtail asked not really wanting to know the answer to that. He always lived in fear that his master would find some use for him, and he was almost positive they would include disaster on his part.

"I have servants who are ready to do my biding, Wormtail." The words came from Voldemort's mouth mock happily. He merely sounded as though he were playing a game with a small child. "I have a plan and I'm sure you will be most pleased that they do include yourself." After concluding his sentence he took a moment just to savor the heat from the fire. He amused himself with the reaction from the weak, quivering mass that was Wormtail.

Wormtail visibly gulped. Voldemort just laughed; again it rang throughout the house.

"You, Wormtail, will bring me Harry Potter." He continued.

"B-but my Lord."

"You will bring him to me at any means necessary."

"Y-yes my L-Lord." Then casting a nervous glance towards his superior he added, "How?"

"Young Potter lives with muggles during the summer as I have so learned. I daresay the place is watched but it seems to be the one place that Potter is unprotected, no Dumbledore to look after him." At the mention of Dumbledore his face distorted cruelly and his voice tightened in anger. "You will go there, Wormtail, and bring him to me. Do what you want with the muggles."

"M-my Lord. What if I am c-c-caught?"

Voldemort made a feeble attempt to look as though he was truly thinking about what the answer to that question would be. He laughed again, his shrill, cold pitch slicing through the silence almost painfully.

"What does it matter to me if you are caught?" He smiled, baring his yellowing teeth. "What does it matter to me if you are killed? You are worthless Wormtail and don't forget that one, true fact. If you are no longer able to serve me I will find another pawn for my game, one with more brain and talent. But, seeing as you have nowhere else to go, I suggest you do as you are told. Am I right Wormtail?"

"Y-y-yes my L-Lord."

"Now, out of my sight." He turned suddenly to the coiled mass by the fire. "Nagini, make sure this pathetic beast finds his way to the door. " He turned his gaze back to the flickering flames. "I will be waiting Wormtail and if you do not bring back Potter, there will be serious consequences."

"Y-yes my Lord."

The coiled mass on the floor stirred suddenly to reveal a very large snake. It hissed furiously at the small, frightened man, baring it's fangs threateningly before slithering out of the door. Wormtail trudged along after it as though he had just been sentenced to death, his small, black, beady eyes watering.

With that, Wormtail was gone from the stone house and Nagini rejoined its master by the fireside with nothing more but a faint hiss.

Author's Notes:

This story is a work in progress so bare with me. I hope you who read enjoyed this first chapter and I'll do my best to get the next chapter up sometime. To be completely honest I'm not sure where to go with this story. I've got a few ideas but feel free to let me know what you think should happen next.

Now, if you so please, it would be most appreciated if you would submit a review for yours truly. Thanks.

LPfreak