The Quetzal's Fire
Harry Potter
Part Twelve: Negocio
The fanfare present at the opening of a term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was absent at the occasion in question; it is irrefutable, however, that the latter had a greater deal of importance was occurring in a darkened room in Cuzco.
A transaction borne of manipulation and arrogance was at hand, one with effects so potentially catastrophic and calamitous as to blow the mind beyond the scope of any dose of hallucinogens. Not that anyone concerned nor knew such things. The occasion at hand would not have even been considered should all the facts about it have been known by those engaging in it.
Such things are easy to see through a rearview, but the wizard once known as Tom Marvollo Riddle could not have known.
"Don Voldemort." A fairly short man in a crisp grey suit extended his hand to Voldemort, who spurned it.
"Mr. Pachacuti," the Dark Lord said, brutally mangling the other man's name.
"Let us not delay this any further. You have the… ah, yes." A dementor glided forward. "The creature will be of great use to us."
"And your end of the bargain..." the Dark Lord said, eager and impatient.
"Yes, yes, we are coming to it. I wish to… como se dice? Ay, reiterate that I have said the whole time that we only provide information. The location of what you are after is enclosed." The tanned man withdrew a completely nondescript manila envelope from his suit pocket and handed it to Lord Voldemort. "El incendio inolvidable."
Thousands of miles away, Harry Potter started sliding down the stairs of Gryffindor Tower as he saw it all.
