Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

So it Begins

8/3/05 – 8/8/05

Lily rushed to open the door after the third ring. She sighed in relief at the sight of her old professor, Minerva McGonagall. She quickly invited Minerva in and offered her a variety of soft drinks that the old professor kindly declined.

"Please, sit down." Lily smiled, motioning to several leather couches. Once they were comfortably seated, Lily offered Minerva an assortment of pastries, candies, and cookies that the old professor kindly refused with a slight shake of her head.

"Oh McGonagall, you're here." James greeted, poking his head into the living room.

"James!" Lily quickly admonished. "That's Professor McGonagall!" she hissed, emphasizing Minerva's title. When James just shrugged his shoulder noncommittally, Lily groaned and quickly apologized profusely to her old professor for her husband's lack of manners.

"That's all right," McGonagall said slowly while pinning James with a stern glare, "I know how James is."

"Thank you for understanding and coming today." Lily smiled. "It's a big day for Dylan and everyone who knows about the prophecy is going to the Quidditch World Cup with us. James and I were worried that no one would be able to watch Harry in our absence. Of course, there's Headmaster Dumbledore, but I'm sure he's busy. Then there's Severus, who is…well, I don't know what he's doing, but…"

"I understand what your saying, Lily. I don't mind watching Harry for the day. You go and celebrate Dylan's birthday. Everything will be fine." McGonagall assured with a small wave of her hand.

"Harry's in his room – He's usually in there for most of the day. He comes out at about noon for lunch. Lunch is on the kitchen counter and…"

"Lily, just go." Minerva sighed.

"Yeah Mom, let's go all ready!" whined Dylan, who had just waltzed out of the kitchen. Much to Lily's displeasure, Dylan's face was caked with whipped cream, which practically screamed that he had raided the kitchen.

"Clean off the whipped cream." Lily admonished before averting her gaze back to Minerva. "As I was saying…" Lily began, but was abruptly cut off as both James and Dylan pushed her out of the house and into the car.

"Hey, McGonagall thanks for watching Harry." James grinned cheekily from the doorway before closing the door with a small click.

Minerva resisted the urge to her roll her eyes at James's obvious disrespect for her title and settled for a small sigh.

D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y. &&& D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y

Hidden behind the shadows of the red tapestries, Harry watched from his bedroom window as his family piled into the Ministry car. They were all laughing and smiling at some half-witted joke Dylan made... Harry's eyes narrowed into small slits as he angrily seethed for being left out again. Clenching a handful of the silky, red curtains, Harry angrily pulled it shut, nearly shredding it to pieces in the process. Slowly, he backed away from the window and flopped soundlessly onto his queen-sized bed. As Harry lay quietly on his bed, head atop his folder arms, the image of his family piling into the Ministry car repeatedly replayed itself in his mind's eyes, nearly driving him to the brink of insanity. Clenching his head with his hands, Harry tightly squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to erase the happy image from his mind.

"I don't care," he whispered, "I don't need any of them."

D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y. &&& D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y

Snape resisted the urge to shift uneasily from foot to foot as the Dark Lord mercilessly used the Cruciatus Curse on the woman, causing her to scream and writhe in unimaginable pain.

"L-Let me go, p-please!" she begged when Voldemort briefly released her from the curse.

"Then tell me what I want to know." Voldemort hissed, his ruby-red eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

"I-I c-can't!" the woman stuttered as she shrunk back. "I won't!" she added defiantly with the last ounce of her courage.

"Cru-," Voldemort began, but was rudely interrupted by a loud shriek of, "no."

Voldemort watched with disinterest as Rodolphus Lestrange and Regulus Black dragged in a bruised and beaten middle-aged man, who was struggling fruitlessly against his captors. Rodolphus was soon joined by his wife, Bellatrix Lestrange, who held a little, eight-year-old girl by the shoulder in a bruising grip.

"Melissa!" the man shouted as he renewed his struggles against his captors.

"Michael, w-what are you d-doing here?" the woman hissed shakily. "I thought I told you to take my little Angel and run!"

"M-Mommy?" the little girl whispered as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Voldemort watched in amusement as Melissa perked up at the sound of her daughter's cry. He lowered his wand and motioned for his Death Eaters to release the man, but not the girl. The man immediately rushed to his wife's side and cradled her blood-crusted body to his chest. The woman, instead of returning her husband's embrace, blindly pawed the ground and tugged on her chains in an attempt to find her crying daughter.

"What did they do to you?" Michael whispered as he gazed lovingly at Melissa. He gently traced his fingers over the area where his wife's eyes used to be and broke down into hysterical sobs. "You bastard." he cried, glaring at Voldemort with hate-filled eyes. "I'll never forgive you."

"Foolish muggle, what did you hope to accomplish by seeking out my Death Eaters?" Voldemort drawled. "Crucio," he hissed, directing his wand towards the little girl.

Snape winced slightly when the little girl dropped to the ground screaming in agony. He silently cursed the foolish muggle for coming here with his daughter. He couldn't understand what the muggle thought he could possibly achieve by putting his daughter and himself in danger.

"Angel…don't, leave her alone!" Melissa begged, but was quickly silenced by Michael's hand over her mouth.

"In exchange for me and my wife's freedom; I'll give you my daughter." Sam whispered as Melissa blindly shook her head in the negative.

"Daddy, don't leave m…" the little girl began, but was quickly silenced by Bellatrix, who had ruthlessly slapped her across the cheek.

"Silence," Voldemort hissed, "Crucio." Bellatrix's eyes widened when she realized the Cruciatus Curse was meant for her and not the little girl. "I don't remember giving any orders for you to touch the girl." he whispered in a dangerously low tone before releasing Bellatrix from the curse. "You'll do well to remember not to act without my permission."

"Y-Yes Master," Bellatrix cried, lowering herself to the floor.

The little girl raced towards her parents the moment Bellatrix's hold on her softened. Before Angel could reach her parents, she was intercepted by Voldemort, who towered ominously over her small form. She took several steps back when the edge of Voldemort's lips curled upward into a small smirk of satisfaction. In one quick, fluid motion, he scooped the girl into his arms, pulling her flush against his chest.

Turning to the two muggles, Voldemort hissed, "I'll take your gift." he stated, tightening his hold on the struggling girl. "But Lord Voldemort never makes deals with muggles."

Regulus and Rodolphus smiled at their Lord's statement and shot the two muggles a predatory grin.

"Do what you please with them," Voldemort ordered, "but they are to remain alive. Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course," Bellatrix answered with a small bow.

"Yes Master!" Rodolphus and Regulus chorused in unison.

"Yes, Milord," Snape whispered, pulling on a predatory grin that matched his fellow Death Eaters. Snape watched as Voldemort ascended the dungeon stairs with the screaming girl in his grasps. The predatory grin on his face slowly dissolved into a frown as he quietly pondered what the Dark Lord was planning to do with the girl in the main mansion.

"Do you think Master likes his girls young?" Regulus asked with a feral grin.

Snape wrinkled his nose in disgust at Regulus's insinuation.

"That young?" asked Rodolphus incredulously. "Wouldn't that be a child lover?"

"The proper term would be pedophile." Regulus supplied.

Bellatrix pinned her cousin with a look that clearly conveyed that he would be dead if their Lord had heard him.

"But you didn't hear that term from me." Regulus quickly added, realizing his mistake.

Snape clenched his hands into tight fists as he silently hoped that the Dark Lord would find the heart in himself to give the little girl a quick, painless death…

D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y. &&& D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y

Harry paced back and forth from one end of his room to the other, thinking of various things to keep himself from going insane from sheer boredom. It had been a total of three hours since his family had left – leaving him with some unknown babysitter he hadn't bother to check on. Knowing his parents' peculiar tastes in babysitters, Harry concluded that his guardian was either a Professor from Hogwarts or a Ministry Member. Honestly, he didn't need a babysitter. He didn't want a babysitter. Babysitters gave him the distinct feeling that he was some horrible criminal locked in Azkaban, guarded day and night by a jail warden to keep him from escaping from his prison (or in this case, his room).

Harry lazily picked a random book from his meager collection of books – which ranged from 100 Ways to Cook Spaghetti to Proper Manners for an English Boy. These books hardly piqued Harry's interests, but they were better than nothing. Ever since the incident with Dylan in the living room two months ago, he had been put on an even tighter leash. Magic was almost completely out of his grasps – almost.

He knew his Dark Arts book, the one he had secretly snatched from Sirius, had been returned to his godfather, who had been subject to some rather gruesome verbal assault about keeping spell books away from him. Harry sighed in frustration, knowing it was unlikely he would ever come across another book even remotely related to magic, much less a spell book.

D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y. &&& D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y

"It's time. We have about 20 minutes, give or take, to retrieve them." The man reached out a gnarled, old hand and summoned six maps of the world, keeping one and passing the other five to his comrades. "Be quick, not careless. We can't afford mistakes. I'll cover Europe."

"Odion," an elderly woman croaked. "Do you really believe the Chosen Ones will succeed where we have failed?"

"I honestly don't know, Sheena. I don't know."

As soon as Odion answered, several red dots began to pop up on the maps in random locations. Two dots, relatively close to one another, began flashing brightly on the section of the map labeled London as Odion quickly counted the total number of flashing dots, excluding the six gathered on Mt. Pike.

"There's seventeen dots all together, counting us."

"Is He on here?" asked Sheena as something akin to fear filtered through her eyes.

"The traitor isn't on the maps because the maps can't pick up his energy signature due to his shield spells. But this isn't the point. What I'm trying to say is there are seventeen dots all together – not including the traitor," Odion added when one of his comrades looked like he was going to protest. "So if we don't count six of us, there's only 11 new Chosen Ones. It's odd because Chosen Ones are always appointed by the dozen every fifty years. The missing Chosen One is either dead or protected by a very strong shield spell – though I would go with the first as not many can cast shield spells that can go undetected by my maps."

"But Hecan."

"It's not him because I doubt the bloody traitor evens knows the meaning of protection." Odion hissed. "We'll debate this at a later time. We have more pressing matters at the moment where time is of significance…Let's go," Odion barked; his voice surprisingly loud for someone his age. In six respective pops, everyone was gone, leaving nothing behind.

D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y. &&& D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y

Harry dropped to the floor and curled into a fetal position when a sudden wave of pain shot through his body. He briefly wondered if he had been placed under the Cruciatus Curse before quickly disregarding that notion when he remembered there wasn't anyone in his room to cast it. And unless he was mental to the point where he placed himself under the Cruciatus Curse, he was pretty sure the Cruciatus was not the cause of his agony.

Even through the heavy haze of pain, Harry knew someone invaded his room the moment the intruder entered.

"Hello," he heard the stranger whisper with barely concealed surprise.

"Who are…?" Harry managed to gasp before he was interrupted by a second wave of pain. "What…the…hell?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

"Goodness," the man – whoever he was – muttered darkly. "I didn't expect you to be this young."

Harry slammed his eyes shut as another onslaught of pain crashed through his body.

"It'll be over in a few minutes and if you survive past this…"

Harry's shrill scream cut off whatever was being said to him as he rolled from one end of the room to the other. Then suddenly, Harry stopped moving and everything became deafly silent save for Harry's breathless pants and the footsteps pounding up the stairs.

Odion raised a hand and muttered an indiscernible incantation, raising an impenetrable barrier around the room that would keep any unwanted spectators out. Even as he did so, he could hear the person on the other side repeatedly shouting, "Alohomora," in an attempt to unlock the door. Odion headed towards Harry to see how he was coping with the pain (and to make sure he was still alive) when Harry released a final, strangled cry.

To Harry's relief, the pain finally began to alleviate after what seemed like an eternity of torture. He tried to struggle into a sitting position, but was immediately stopped by a thin, but strong hand. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but quickly stopped when he felt his consciousness slowly slip from his grasps as the world around him faded in and out of view. The last thing he saw before falling into unconsciousness was an old man smiling at him with a relieved look etched on his face.

"Wait here as I go check up on the other Chosen Ones. I'll be back as soon as possible." Odion whispered to Harry before disappearing with a small pop.

D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y. &&& D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y

After four hours of relentless torture, even Rodolphus and Regulus became bored, claiming that the muggles weren't screaming loud enough to satiate their needs. "I say we kill them." Rodolphus sneered, sending a swift kick to Michael's stomach. "There isn't much left to do with them anyway."

"Master told you to keep them alive." Bellatrix interrupted, sending her husband a stern glare. "Master must have his reasons and uses for keeping these worthless muggles alive."

"Damn it, but I…" Rodolphus began, but was interrupted by a shrill cry that echoed from the main mansion.

Snape felt his heart sink as the memory of the innocent muggle girl flashed through his mind. He silently curled his hands into loose fists, pacifying himself with the knowledge that the girl's torture was over and that she was in a better place.

So lost in thought, Snape failed to notice when his Lord entered the dungeons ten minutes later.

"Master," Regulus breathed, his eyes roaming over his Lord's disheveled appearance.

Following Regulus's gaze, Snape's eyes were immediately drawn to the blood splattered across Voldemort's robes. The potions master could only guess as to what happened in the main mansion as he watched the fresh blood course down Voldemort's long, thin fingers and onto the floor, creating a small puddle.

"What did you…do…to my daughter?" Melissa wheezed as she wrapped an arm around herself. "What did you do to my Angel?" she whispered before pummeling head first into the ground in a dead faint.

Snape watched with half-veiled disgust as Rodolphus and Regulus gazed at the glistening blood on their Lord's lips with open fascination. As if knowing what was running through his Death Eater's minds, Voldemort ran his tongue over his lower lips, lapping up the remaining blood.

"Gather the others and be prepared to attack the Potter's residence in 15 minutes." Voldemort ordered before storming out of the dungeons, his black cloak billowing slightly as he ascended the stairs.

Snape's eyes widened when the full meaning of the order sunk into his mind. The only thought running through his head as he prepared to carry out the Dark Lord's orders was, "Shit."

D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y. &&& D. A. R. K. &&& P. R. O. P. H. E. C. Y

TBC

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Next Time:

"Harry, open the door!"

"I really might not live to see the day…"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has him… I'm so sorry. I should have stayed with him!"

"You will do well to remember not to gossip behind Lord Voldemort's back…Especially when he's three feet ahead of you."

"I'm suffocating…its like 200 degrees in here."

"He's dead, isn't he?"