Screams echoed throughout the small town. People in ordinary nightclothes were fleeing, pursued by laughing, masked, black-cloaked figures. The figures shot jets of colored light from small sticks they held in their hands, shouting words that the poor townspeople had never heard of.
It was an awful sort of chaos, but Voldermort's death eaters loved it. They had been born and bred to create and savor this chaos that was everywhere, ripping apart everything in its wake.
Finally, when all the muggles had either been killed or escaped (although, the death eaters hated to consider the latter had happened) the death eaters converged in the town square.
A woman and a man rushed to join the rest of the death eaters, but the woman abruptly stopped near the rubble of a small, humble little house. The man stopped too, looking furious.
'Bellatrix! What the hell are you doing? The Dark Lord will be displeased –'
'Shhh! I hear something!'
And, sure enough, cradled in the ruins of the little house was a baby boy.
'My lord,' Bellatrix murmured, heavy-lidded eyes cast downwards, 'I found this for you. A plaything.' She held the baby upward.
'Alive?' Voldermort hissed incredulously. 'Alive after the attack?'
'My lord,' a smooth voice said, stepping out from behind him. 'The child must have great power to have survived the attack. There is no other logical explanation.'
'Are you sure, Severus?'
'Almost positive, my lord.'
A bolt of bluish light shot out from Voldermort's wand, sending Snape hurtling against a wall.
'Almost positive is not good enough!'
Another bolt of light, this one orange, shot from Voldermort's wand, encircling the baby.It rose into the air, whimpering fearfully.
The light touching the baby flickered, before turning deep blue.
Voldermort laughed, a high-pitched, cruel sound.
'Bow, my death eaters! Bow before my heir!'
The death eaters bowed.