Rating: K+

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or names in this story created by J.K Rowling (who is a very talented lady.) I only own the plot, and new characters you won't recognise.

Chapter Seven: The Two Plots

The sun was fast setting, casting a last dusky glow on the green firs dotting the rolling hills.

The cottage was dingy and the dirty grey walls were painted with cobwebs. A flickering, wax-yellow light emanated from the center of one of the room. Crowded around the lamp, on the creaking oak floorboards, were about six or seven black-cloaked figures, obviously having just Apparated to that location. One of them lifted its head up, revealing a surprisingly handsome face. However, sleepless nights had taken their toll on him – his face was pale and thin, his black hair unruly, his eyes containing an almost inhuman look.

"Nott," his cruel voice broke the tangible silence, "where is she?"

"In the next room, lord," a quavering voice answered. "She put up a fight, but I Stunned her…"

"Very good, Nott." The cloaked figure stood up, and made its way into another room, passing an open door.

An old woman, bent with age, was cringing on the floor. Her face was thin and papery, weighed down heavily with wrinkles.

"Trelawney, tell me of this interesting Prophecy you made yesterday."

The Seer looked up, fury etched in every line of her face.

"I do not offer my services to the Dark side," she said harshly. "Especially not to…" she paused and shuddered.

The man bent until his face was level with hers. "Trelawney – I will get it off you eventually. I also happen to know that you did not hear the Prophecy for yourself. You will now tell me where it is –" he moved his face two inches closer. "Won't you, Professor?" he whispered.

Cassandra Trelawney looked at him squarely in the face. The man observed her eyes – they were large and protuberant, but reflected a lot of pain she had endured in her life.

"Never, Tom," she said in a low voice, a tear trickling down her cheek.

Five minutes later, the man emerged out of the room. He looked tired and troubled. "It's in Gringotts," he said shortly. "Yaxley, initiate contact with the goblins. This will have to be done as quick as possible. The rest of you – "

He looked at them all, at the evil in their eyes. He felt their desire for revenge, for self-gain.

" – just get out of my sight."

In the Entrance Hall, three or four Slytherin fourth-years were making their way up the stairs, accompanied by a tiny second-year Gryffindor, looking very out of place with them.

Young Bellatrix Black sniggered as she reminisced of one of her pranks on Lily.

"You should have seen her face with the pumpkin juice!" she smirked.

A girl with two brown plaits felt uneasy."Maybe we should stop these tricks…" said Mildred uncertainly.

Bellatrix flared up immediately. "What, forget the plan? After all my work?"

A rather shrimpish girl, Joelle, agreed with Mildred. "Lily's real nice, Bella. Yesterday she helped me with my homework, and she fixed up Cathy's owl when it broke its wing."

Bellatrix shrugged. "I don't care. I'm going to continue ... and hopefully get her kicked out …"

She scowled at her two followers. "Get Pettigrew. He's the only one who can give us the Gryffindor Common Room passwords."

The second-year hung her head. "I'm sorry I'm so forgetful…"

"Just hurry up."

Mildred and Joelle wordlessly did her bidding.