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Chapter One:
A small pop sounded starkly through the quiet town of Pen-y-Ghent as Wormtail appeared weakly at the foot of his lord. He stuttered through his appropriate greetings before pressing himself to the floor in an act of submission. Voldemort however seemed not to notice any of Wormtail's frippery. Either that or he simply chose to ignore it which, knowing the mannerisms of the dark figure, seemed the more plausible choice. Rather Voldemort glanced around the room, casually assessing the occupants. They were few but select. Well, save for Wormtail.
"I want to destroy the Weasley boy." Voldemort's voice rang out suddenly from the silence. The declaration was firm and obviously premeditated. It wasn't a vague assertion, it was almost a promise. Voldemort may as well have said, I will destroy the Weasley boy, the meaning was the same. The intonation of his statement wasn't the focus of the group's response though, but rather the declaration itself.
"W-Weasley? W-what does he have to do with anything?" Wormtail managed to sputter before Voldemort shot him a silencing glare. The others in the room glanced at eachother self-consciously, hoping that Voldemort would see fit to answer Wormtail's query, as it was the same question at the top of their psyches. Voldemort paused for a moment, formulating his speech inwardly. He was by choice a man of very few words and those he did speak were carefully thought out. This was no exception.
"Besides his close affiliation with Harry Potter?" Voldemort began slowly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Wormtail noted the tone and flinched appropriately under Voldemort's heavy gaze. It was a wonder he wasn't dead already, a fact that he was fully aware—and grateful—for.
"W-what I mean, my lord, is that w-what does this Weasley character do for P-potter anyway?" Wormtail pressed, stumbling noticeably over his words. "That Granger girl is w-way more of a threat, your g-greatness," Wormtail quivered, hoping that by sprinkling various endearments throughout his theories Voldemort would be more forgiving.
"Silence you spineless, sniveling Git!" Voldemort responded forcefully, tossing out a few choice endearments of his own. "Do not assume that I have not assessed the situation. I believe that the young Weasley will be conducive to our endeavors." A discomforting silence fell over the group as Voldemort patiently waited to be goaded on. There was no doubt that he was going to reveal his plan—eventually. It was all a matter of who had the guts to press the situation. Wormtail, having already imposed his presence enough, scurried towards a corner and sat back inconspicuously. The others around him stirred uncomfortably, silently daring eachother to speak first. When a voice did break the canvassing silence it was that of Lucius Malfoy, fresh from Azkaban. He spoke smoothly but consistently, giving the impression of running through syrup.
"How will Weasley benefit your plan Lord Voldemort?" Lucius asked calmly, his eyes evenly trained on the dark lord before him. Voldemort paused dramatically, his chilling gaze sweeping over the deatheaters in front of him.
"Weasley is one of Potter's closest friends—is he not?" Voldemort asked pointedly. The group reached a silent agreement. "Weasley also has feelings for the Granger girl—does he not?" Again, the group mutually agreed. Crabbe and Goyle, who had slunk in a few minutes earlier, their bulking frames awkward against the delicately upholstered furniture, let out little knowing smirks at the statement. Even their flea-sized brains had figured out Ron's feelings towards Hermione. He practically fell over himself every time she was in sight and, as they had been led to believe, normal people just didn't do that. Several of the others shot the two brutes menacing glares, immediately silencing the duo. Voldemort didn't seem halted by the disturbance, merely glaring at the two before continuing.
"We are going to make Weasley fall in love with the Granger girl." Silence fell over the group like a heavy blanket. Voldemort, who seemed to thrive on the ignorant confusion cropping up around him, sat back, turning to face the flames reaching out from the fireplace. The fiery fingers reached out, licking softly at Voldemort's robes. The heat seemed to make him glow with a sickening chartreuse aura that seemed to accent his malevolence.
"With all due respect Lord Voldemort, why do you see fit to—help Weasley?" Wormtail squeaked curiously, rising from his corner to face the crowd. Voldemort whipped around in his chair, narrowing his eyes menacingly.
"What do you take me for?" Voldemort bellowed, rising from his chair to tower over the shivering little man. Before Wormtail could stammer out a reply Voldemort advanced on him, sizing up the being before him. "If we force Weasley to lust after Granger what do you think will happen? Do you think our merry little trio will continue on, undisturbed, when the filthy little Weasley can barely keep his grimy paws off of the brains of the entire operation? Do you think that maybe they will be too preoccupied to pay attention to every little thing that Potter happens to get himself into?" Voldemort finished, his voice having returned to its normal hiss. The others nodded knowingly, having finally understood the depth of the whole operation. The logistics were still hazy—how Weasley would fall in love with Granger, how the dilemma would affect the group dynamic and how the situation would play out in the deatheater's favor, but those details didn't matter at the moment. They knew it would be done. They knew they would win. And they knew that Potter would finally be killed.
