Hey! So here it goes- a brand new story for you all ;)

As mentioned before, this story will have 25 chapters and is already finished.

There will be violence, humiliation, and rape (but only in two or three scenes). I will be putting warnings up in front of every chapter.

This chap is mostly to introduce the characters and where they all stand ;)

Hope you enjoy it!

"Again."

The thin, plain looking man in front of him frowned, "but…I really don't think…"

"Again", he spit a mix of saliva and blood on the ground, "I'm my own boss, don't know why you keep forgetting that, Thompson- and if I want to go again, I sure as hell will."

"Of course, of course, I was just…concerned…"

"Concerned?", he let out a bitter laugh, "who do you think you're fooling here? The only thing you are concerned about is that I might die in your precious little…establishment", he said the last word with the scorn it deserved, "don't want to attract any Aurors, do you?"

"I…that's not…"

Sirius just snorted, turning around to leave. It was always the same with Thompson- as long as he won and brought money in, he was his biggest admirer, but once he got knocked around a little, he suddenly played the part of the friendly, worried guy, when they both knew it was as far from the truth as possible.

He went and had another glass of whiskey, and then he made his way back to the arena- even though arena was kind of a fancy word for the small circle in the middle of the room that was surrounded by some rocks and branches that Thompson and the others had half-heartedly thrown there. The rocks were covered in dried blood, spit and vomit, and Sirius was kind of proud of the fact that he could still tell which rocks had his blood on them. It had hurt like a motherfucker the first time he had gotten his face slammed into one, and he still remembered the feeling of the pain exploding behind his eyes. It had been glorious.

His opponent was already expecting him in the arena, a huge, muscled bear of a man, the expression on his face grim and cold. Sirius took no notice of that, he was more interested in the weapons he had brought, and when he saw the enormous cutting knife and the whip the guy was holding, he noticed the familiar feeling of adrenaline rushing through him.

Now that's a challenge I like.

He had already been beaten pretty badly today, one of Thompson's old friends had managed to almost strangle him with a rope, and when he had fought back, the fucker had tried to break his nose. He had bleed like crazy, but bleeding was nothing, meant nothing, and it definitely did not mean to miss out on something that involved a cutting knife and a whip.

"What's your name?", the other guy asked, and Sirius wanted to laugh.

Really? That's how you want to do this?

"How about…your biggest nightmare?", he suggested, sounding bored, "or how about…your momma's favorite dick?"

The guy grunted something, his expression changing to raw fury, which suited Sirius just fine, "can we start then or would you like to know my favorite color and favorite book as well?", he was clearly being sarcastic, but his opponent did not pick up on that, dumb as he apparently was.

"Why would I care about that?", Dimwit snarled, "let's go then. Show me what you've got, big mouth."

And Sirius did.

In the end, he was as disappointed as he mostly was after a fight- it had taken him barely three minutes to grab the cutting knife from Dimwit, ramming it into his left arm. Dimwit had screeched, and then he had kicked him into his bad shoulder, the one that was still healing from a fight he had had three weeks ago, and Sirius had lost his temper. He had taken the whip from Dimwit, and he had started to beat his face, his mouth, his eyes, the spots where he knew it hurt the most.

Eventually, Dimwit had managed to grab him and pull him down, so Sirius had taken the knife out of his bleeding arm in one fluid motion, just to ram it into his stomach next. By then, Thompson and the other men had been cheering loudly, throwing their empty whiskey glasses at Dimwit in contempt like they always did with the losers, and Sirius had grinned, collecting all the glasses like it was tradition. Each glass meant a free drink for him, and he'd never pass on that.

And while Dimwit bled out on the ground, Sirius enjoyed his free whiskey and listened to Thompson's groveling, knowing he had done it again- he truly was unbeatable.

"You are the champion, Orion!", Thompson gabbled on, using his middle name to address him, since he had thought it'd be smarter that way. There was no need for Harry or Remus to find out what he really was doing when he was supposed to sit around at Grimmauld's Place like a good little dog all day.

Therefore, as soon as he stepped into Thompson's bar with a built in fight club in the basement that barely anyone knew about, he was Orion. Orion the fighter, Orion the champion, Orion who had managed to kill a man with a broken hand, and that was how he wanted it. He really had tried to explain his feelings to Remus and Harry, that he felt useless, and alone, and that he was always so damn angry. Remus had tried to comfort him, telling him everything would be fine- the never-ending optimist that he was- and Harry had basically told him he had to be patient, and that there were working on it. It meant getting him declared innocent by the Ministry- but so far, Dumbledore had been busy playing war instead of focusing on that, and Pettigrew was still on the run.

Sirius knew deep down that he was being ungrateful, after all, Harry had done a lot to help him, he had brought him to Grimmauld's Place, he had made sure he had plenty of food, he had gotten him new clothes and he had forced Kreacher to serve him again without complaining about it nonstop. And on top of it, he had to endure the greasy git Snivellus Snape in Hogwarts, who was not only giving Harry hell, but also Remus, who was spying on him.

Sirius sighed, suddenly feeling tired. Everything had gotten to hell- and the only thing that seemed to help was getting beaten up by some stranger or beating someone to a pulp.

"There's this new guy who wants a chance", Thompson now slurred, sounding like he was going to pass out at any minute now, "in three days. He's kind of…old fashioned. What do you think?"

"Old fashioned?"

"He said he'd bring a collection of axes and a morning star."

Sirius had to laugh, "whatever. It's his funeral", he put his empty glass on the counter and stood up, "three days?"

"Three days."

"I'll be there."

The door opened slowly, and then the man in front of him curled his lips in open disgust, "have you forgotten the way back to your quarters, Lupin? I thought a mutt like you had a better sense of orientation."

Remus forced himself to smile, "I just came to check if you thought about my question from two days ago."

"Your question asking me how to treat fleas?"

"My question asking you if you were interested in having tea with me to go over some…paperwork together."

"I thought I already said no to that very kind offer of yours", now Snape sounded cynical, "and I do believe that in case you need any help with…paperwork, McGonagall would be the right person to consult."

"Minerva is rather busy these days…"

"Well, I am, too, Lupin", Snape interrupted him rudely, "in fact, I have essays from two dozen second grade Ravenclaws laying on my desk, waiting to be corrected."

"It's just…I have some questions, and I really don't want to bother Minerva with that."

"No, you rather bother me, right?", Snape's dark eyes were sparkling with contempt, "I still don't understand what has gotten into you lately, Lupin- do you really think I am buying your whole let's be friends charade?"

"I am not asking for a friendship, just for having tea, Severus. We are working together, would it be really that hard to be more civilized with each other now?", Remus was proud of himself for keeping his voice firm and calm, even though he felt like punching Snape in his scowling face.

"Dumbledore should never have hired you."

Remus sighed, "listen, I already apologized like a thousand times, can't we…"

"You could apologize until the end of your life and it wouldn't make a difference, mutt", Snape replied coldly, "but since I rather value my privacy and I don't want you to come knocking here every day from now on, I'll have tea with you."

"I…appreciate that, Severus."

"You should- since it won't happen again", the Potion's Master stepped to the side and let him enter, and Remus curiously scanned everything he saw, from the giant bookshelves in the living area to the cozy fireplace and the armchairs flanking it, to the dining room table with a bowl of fresh fruit on it, to the small work space with the desk and even more bookshelves. Another door led to a bathroom which seemed to be completely in marble, and another, closed door was probably the bedroom.

"This is really nice", he blurted out, and Snape shot him an amused look, "surprised, Lupin? You probably thought all my furniture were cauldrons and that it would smell like nothing but sulfur in here?"

"Something…like that", he admitted sheepishly, and Snape snorted, "have a seat, I'll make us some tea. Do you take any sugar?"

"Uhm…yes, please", he was a little taken aback by the sudden change in Snape's attitude, but he was grateful for it- it meant he was getting closer to his goal.

You are here for information, nothing else.

He had to remind himself of that when Snape put a freshly brewed peppermint tea and some biscuits in front of him minutes later, taking a seat in the other armchair.

"So…paperwork, hmm?", he mockingly raised an eyebrow, "and here I am thinking you enjoy doing all the extra work Dumbledore has given you at the last teacher conference."

"I am. Dumbledore is…he's been very helpful", Remus lied, taking another sip of his tea, "he's a great headmaster", another lie.

"We can certainly agree on that", Snape replied calmly, but there was an edge in his voice, an edge of something Remus could not decipher, "now, if I remember correctly, he's been asking you to go over the inventory and expenses lists- sounds quite dull to me."

It is. It's the most boring stuff you can imagine.

"It's quite interesting in my opinion", Remus lied for the third time in a row, "I am just having some issues with the expenses- I am not sure how to organize them."

"And you don't want to bother McGonagall with such a trivial question", Snape added smoothly, helping himself to more tea, "well, since you are here now, I might as well take a look at it."

Remus grinned inwardly, this was getting better than expected, and then he opened his bag and took some papers out, "I already started…but it's really tricky, there are so many expenses this year."

Because Dumbledore is trying to turn Hogwarts into a Pureblooded, White Magic Only School.

Snape did not comment on it though, he just looked over the lists, frowning, "organizing it by categories would probably be best- I'd start with the first graders, and then I'd make additional categories for the staff and teachers."

"That sounds like a…good idea", Remus supplied, knowing very well he would have been capable of figuring that out on his own, but he had needed some kind of excuse to get into Snape's quarters.

"You can show it to me again once you are done", Snape now said, sounding like the Professor he was, "anything else I can help you with?"

You could tell me which side you are really on for a start.

"No…I…uhm, thank you", he mumbled, hastily grabbing his tea cup, "this tea…it's delightful."

Oh God, what? I sound like a moron.

"Delightful…", Snape repeated, amusement in his voice, "I never heard anyone compliment a simple peppermint tea like that."

"I am sure I am the first one having tea with you in a long time", Remus tried, eager to get more information out of the Potion's Master, and Snape smiled, "you'd be surprised how many people have been here lately, Lupin."

"I know Dumbledore has tea with you sometimes", Remus tried again, realizing it was harder than he thought to be subtle, and Snape's smile widened, "yes, I do- his favorite is an orange tea with a hint of cinnamon, did you know that, Lupin?"

"I…I did not."

"I also had Mr. Watkins from St. Mungo's over the other day to go over his supply list, he drank a black tea with lemon", Snape went on, obviously mocking him now, "and…yes, I did have tea with Fudge as well, but I am pretty sure he only wanted to drink bourbon."

Remus bit his lips, "I apologize. It's really none of my business. I was just trying to…to make small talk."

"You might want to work on that, Lupin."

"If you give me the chance, I will."

Snape snorted again, putting down his tea, "do you really need my forgiveness that bad?"

"I…I mean, James is…is dead, and…Peter…you know, and well, Sirius, he…uhm…"

"He's causing problems as always, I am assuming", Snape's voice was full of disdain, and Remus had a sudden flash of geniality, an idea, "he's…not talking to me", it was only half a lie, "he's been treating me like crap, he is yelling at me, and last time I saw him, he…he punched me", that was a lie, but he had no clue how else to get the info he needed, "and…sometimes I wish…I wish, he wasn't even here."

"And why exactly are you telling me this, Lupin?", Snape's tone was mistrusting, "I've always known Black is a worthless, pathetic excuse of a man, so by any means, do not expect any comfort from me now."

"I don't. It's just…it feels good to tell someone. It's not like I can tell Harry, he worships Sirius."

Snape let out a soft laugh, "jealous, wolf?"

Remus hated himself for blushing, because truth to be told, he was jealous- he hated the fact that he'd always be second best, first with James, and now with Harry. Sirius was always the favorite.

"Maybe a little", he grudgingly admitted, "I am working so hard, I am paying for all of Sirius' things, and do I ever get a thank you? No, I do not. Everyone is just expecting me to do that, like I am some kind of servant."

"Sounds like there's trouble in paradise", Snape sounded sardonic, but he also sounded like he was enjoying this- which was just what Remus had hoped.

"It's complicated", he mumbled, finishing his tea, "anyways, thank you for…listening."

"About what a sorry excuse of a man Black is? Anytime."

Remus had to smile, quite satisfied with what he had achieved, "thank you for the tea. I have to go, but…I could maybe…come over again in…three days? To show you the list of course."

"Of course- what else would you want from me, right?", Snape was looking him straight in the eyes now, something Remus found quite unnerving- and since he knew Snape's Occlumency skills, he quickly looked away and got up, "thanks again", he forced himself to sound as grateful as possible, "I'll be back."

"I will be expecting you, Lupin."

Remus smiled again, letting Snape escort him to the door, "by the way, I've heard what happened in Potion's yesterday, and I really think you shouldn't…"

He knew he had taken it a step too far when Snape's expression instantly hardened, "I do believe that is between myself and Potter, Lupin", he told him icily, "maybe if he had a godfather who would keep him in line or you- well, I guess I cannot expect you to actually try to discipline Potter", it sounded sarcastic, "after all, he is your Golden Boy, isn't he?"

"Harry just has a temper sometimes, but he really does not mean any harm, he's just struggling since Sirius has not…is not really stepping up as a godfather so to say."

"You have not answered my question, Lupin", Snape was looking at him again, "why are you not keeping Potter in line? The disrespect from him is getting out of hand, his assignments are messy if he ever does them, and I am quite honestly losing my patience with that boy."

"I…he's a teenager, all teenagers are moody and don't care about their work sometimes, you are blowing this out of proportions, Severus", Remus was doing his best to downplay the issue, "and I have no…no right to discipline Harry, I am not his godfather. Besides, Harry needs understanding, and love, and respect, and not punishment."

"What Potter needs is a good spanking."

"That's ridiculous", Remus started to feel annoyed, "you don't even know Harry, and you can really leave it to me and Sirius to worry about him."

"Very well then", Snape sounded as cynical as ever, "I'll leave it to you- but I am warning you, Lupin. One more missed homework, one more rude answer from that boy, and I am going to the headmaster."

Remus swallowed hard, "I am sure Dumbledore has more important matters to deal with than an unruly student. Your dislike for James should not be…", he did not dare to finish his sentence when Snape's expression turned murderous, "I think we are done here, Lupin", he eventually said, his voice pure venom, and then he stepped back and slammed the door shut, leaving Remus Lupin standing right in front of it like an unwanted guest.

And he knew he'd have to start all over again now.

"Hey Harry! Want to play chess?", Ron grinned all over his freckled face, entering the dorms, "I finally finished that stupid essay for McGonagall- Hermione helped me."

"Yeah, that's great", Harry mumbled absently, and Ron frowned, "did you even listen to me? What's up with you today?"

"Nothing", Harry stood up from his bed he'd been sitting on, "let's go play chess."

Ron looked like he wanted to say something, but then he just shrugged, following Harry into the Common Room. Neville, Hermione, and Seamus were there as well, and Hermione walked over to them just as Ron was setting up the chess pieces on the board.

"Harry, I thought you had detention now", she began, "Professor Snape said seven o'clock, didn't he?"

"He did", Harry replied curtly, staring at the chessboard.

"Well, what are you waiting for then, mate?", Ron now said, effectively talking over Hermione, "he was really pissed yesterday, if I were you…"

"But you aren't", Harry interrupted him, and now his voice was cold, "you aren't me, Ron. I am not going to have detention with Snape so he can sneer at me some more. Screw him."

"You…you can't be serious, Harry!", Hermione looked like she was about to have a heart attack, "he is going to go to Dumbledore, he is going to get you expelled, he…"

"Dumbledore won't expel me- he needs me to fight Voldemort, in case you have forgotten that", Harry moved a pawn, ignoring the shocked faces of his two best friends, "you know, sometimes I really feel like one of them- being pushed around for someone else's gain", he pointed at the chessboard, and then he abruptly stood up, "I think I am just going to bed actually. I am pretty tired."

"But…Harry, you…", Hermione tried again, but Harry did not even bother to look at her, he simply walked back upstairs to the dorms. He really was tired- tired of getting ignored by his godfather, tired of being mocked at by Snape, tired of Dumbledore's manipulations, and tired of all the hatred, all the division, and the war.

He did not know what had caused Dumbledore's drastic change in attitude, maybe he'd always been like that and he had just been too naïve and dumb to see it, but it was a fact that since the new schoolyear had started, Dumbledore tried everything to get rid of what he called unworthy students- mainly Slytherins or anyone who had relations to dark magic, and recently, he had seemed to expanded the list to Muggleborn students as well, as long as they weren't Gryffindors.

Now Voldemort and the Death Eaters were fighting the Ministry, Dumbledore was fighting Voldemort, and then the Founders had appeared out of nowhere, and they seemed to be fighting a battle of their own- a battle they needed support for, hence the order from Godric Gryffindor for Remus to spy on Snape, and their recruitment of Hogwarts students.

It gave Harry a headache just to think about the whole mess- and how he wished he'd had someone to talk to about all this, an adult, not one of his friends, but Sirius was too busy doing whatever at Grimmauld's Place, and Remus…Remus would just smile and hug him and tell him what an awesome kid he was and that everything would be fine.

But it wasn't fine. He wasn't fine.

"Would you like to try this robe in green as well, Sir?"

"Sure, why not", Tom grinned at himself in the mirror, admiring the elegant robe he was trying on at Twilfitt and Tattings, something he'd come to do regularly. Being at war was stressful, and since no one knew that he was an eighteen year old behind his snake-like Voldemort persona, he enjoyed going shopping and being out in public without anyone knowing who he really was.

"I'll take these- and the two coats over there as well", he eventually decided, taking out his wallet, "how much?"

"That would be…912 Galleons and 9 sickles, Sir", the woman behind the counter was smiling from ear to ear, knowing she had made another very good deal with her currently best customer.

"Here- keep the rest, I don't like change", Tom handed her a huge amount of Galleons, and the woman was basically beaming now, "thank you, thank you, Sir! You are so generous!"

Tom wanted to laugh, knowing very well that all of the money was stolen- but it was nice to get spoiled like this, to get treated like he was royalty.

He left the store some minutes later, carrying two bags with brand-new clothes. He'd already been to Flourish and Blotts for some rare first edition books they had been having a sale for- not because he liked to read, but because they were first editions and he wanted them. He wanted everything that was valuable.

His next stop was Eeylops Owl Emporium- he did not care for owls, he disliked every animal, well, except snakes perhaps, but he had heard that there was an eagle owl on sale, a magnificent and rare breed of an eagle owl, and he was determined to purchase it for himself.

The store was dark, crammed and dusty, and there were some kids waiting by the counter, but Tom was no one to wait- he came, saw, and demanded to be served.

"I'd like to buy the eagle owl you have on sale", he effectively interrupted a conversation the elderly manager was having with another customer, but instead of feeling embarrassed when everyone turned to stare at him, he curled his lips into a smug smile, "I am paying in cash, full prize. Now, where is my owl?"

"That…is not how I do business here, young man", the owner, whose name he presumed must be Eeylops, now said, and Tom instantly put the man and his store on the list of who to attack next with his Death Eaters.

It was bad enough to be told off like this, but to be called a young man- he was an adult, he was eighteen, even though he might not look like it with his soft, curly brown hair and his smooth, handsome face and the dimples that he had tried everything to get rid of, but he was here to make a purchase, and fucking hell, that's what he would do!

"I want the owl- I'll pay whatever price you want for it", he walked closer to the counter, and the kids who had been standing there hastily scrambled away, intimidated by the menacing look on his face.

"I was actually in the process of selling it to this gentleman here", Eeylops now said, pointing at the customer, "a deal is a deal."

"Oh yeah? In my understanding, a deal should be made with the buyer who pays the highest price- and that would be me."

"No offense, boy, but you look like you are still in school- how would you afford such a rare owl?", the customer now said, his tone patronizing, "I am going to buy this owl- it will fit in wonderfully with my other eagle owls."

The only thing worse than being called a young man was being called a boy, and he had to control himself not to take his wand out and cast a Crucio right there in the store, "I am going to pay you one thousand galleons for it", he told the owner, ignoring the man completely, "one thousand, in cash."

For the first time, Eeylops seemed interested, and the kids who were hiding behind a huge owl cage were gasping, having never heard of such a high amount of money before.

"Don't be ridiculous! That owl is not even worth a thousand Galleons!", the man now snarled, starting to feel irritated, "I breed owls, and I need this owl for my collection!"

"A collection?", Tom repeated, surprised by the fact that he sounded somewhat disapproving, "so, he'd never even get to fly?"

What am I saying, who the fuck cares!

The man cursed under his breath, "you want to tell me how to run my business now, boy?", he hissed at him, "owls are livestock, nothing more", he turned back to Eeylops, "now, four hundred Galleons, right?"

Eeylops looked hesitant, "well, actually…"

"Bloody hell! I am going to take my business elsewhere from now on, since you seem to be more interested in making deals with kids", he cursed again, and then he gave Tom one last look of pure disdain, and left the store, slamming the door shut so hard that the owls started to screech loudly.

Eeylops mumbled something, shaking his head, and then he limped to the side of the store, gently picking up a cage, "looks like you are getting what you want after all, young man", he winked at him, carefully putting the cage on the counter.

I usually am.

Tom was so taken aback by the sight of the gorgeous owl in the cage that he did not over get upset at the owner calling him young man again. He had not expected the eagle owl to be this magnificent, and it seemed to be staring right into his soul with its beautiful, amber colored eyes.

"That would be four hundred Galleons then", Eeylops now said, "unless you really want to pay a thousand", he grinned at him, exposing his yellowish teeth, "he's a beauty, isn't he?"

"Here's your money", Tom replied instead of answering his questions, putting a bag filled with Galleons on the counter, "have a good day", he grabbed the cage before Eeylops could say anything else and left the store, holding the cage tightly in his hands. He knew he had been somewhat impulsive in buying a pet, but he needed to have the best of the best, and this owl perfectly fit into that description.

He apparated back to the mansion he was currently staying in with his Death Eaters, it was an extravagant building with a huge entrance hall, a library, an inside pool and a gigantic fireplace in one of the sitting rooms, but he barely used any of the luxuries that came with it. He usually spent his time drinking too much, thinking of ways to kill Dumbledore, go shopping, and sleep, mostly to cure his hangovers.

Tom was careful to avoid letting his Death Eaters see him without his snake persona, therefore, the Death Eaters were only supposed to be on the third floor of the mansion where the conference rooms, some guest rooms and a big living room to entertain were. That way, he was able to enter and leave the place in his eighteen year old self without being seen.

"You need a name", he told the eagle owl while he was carrying it up to the small owlery the mansion had. He only kept a few owls there to deliver the mail, not caring much for them beyond that, "what would be a good name for you?"

The owl hooted, and even though he did not want to, he had to smile.

"Hmmm…I think I am going to call you…Beagle. Beagle the eagle owl", he had to chuckle when the owl hooted in approval, more than grateful for the fact that none of his Death Eaters were here to listen to this ridiculous conversation, "ready to fly now?", he opened the cage, and Beagle instantly spread his wings, hooted again, and then he flew over to the mail owls, which hooted back. It sounded like they were greeting him, and Tom did not even realize he was grinning like an idiot until he went back inside and saw his face reflecting in one of the windows.

Pull yourself together, damnit! You have a war to win!

It was really time to focus back on what was important- the war. Ever since Dumbledore had started to slowly but surely try to eliminate everything that was dark magic, the Dark Order had been dealt blow after blow- first, the Carrow siblings had been arrested and were now imprisoned in Azkaban, then, Dumbledore had managed to kidnap a Death Eater from the lower circle and had tortured information out of him, which had led to several Death Eaters fleeing the Dark Order in panic. The unfortunate highlight had been the public torture and death of Antonin Dolohov, a Death Eater from the inner circle. Dumbledore's thugs had captured him and Dumbledore had tortured him to death at the Ministry with several Aurors watching gleefully.

Fudge had not been amused, but Dumbledore was beyond caring at this point, knowing very well that most wizards backed him up in going against the Dark Order. They were failing to realize that Dumbledore was not only trying to destroy the Dark Order, but was aiming to have an all-white-magic, pureblooded wizard society.

Tom knew from his spy at Hogwarts, Severus Snape, that the Muggles were to be eliminated next- something he could approve of, even though Dumbledore's methods were too gruesome even for him.

"Mylord", the Death Eaters instantly bowed their heads when he entered the conference room, and he was somewhat irritated to realize that the group had gotten smaller yet again, "who's missing?", he hissed instead of greeting them, and Lucius Malfoy was the first to answer, "Bellatrix, Mylord. She…she was taken last night while on patrol with Narcissa."

"Why was I not informed about this!"

Malfoy ducked his head, not daring to tell his Lord and Master that he had been absent, "I…apologize, Mylord. We were…trying to locate Bellatrix."

"And?"

"It…it looks like Dumbledore put her in one of his…reformation camps, Mylord", another Death Eater piped up, "which basically means she's dead."

Tom bit the thin lips of his snake persona. He'd heard about Dumbledore's camps, they all had, but most of it were rumors- no one actually knew what was going on inside of them, and Tom had no desire to find out first-hand.

Before he could say anything else, there was a timid knock on the door, and then Peter Pettigrew stuck his sweaty, haggard face into the room, "My…mylord?"

"You are interrupting a meeting, Wormtail", he raised his wand, not caring the slightest if Pettigrew had anything important to tell him, "Sectumsempra!", it felt good to hear Peter scream in anguish, he always felt better after torturing someone, and it did not matter if it was an Order member or an enemy.

"Mylord…please…", Peter covered his bleeding face with his hands, and the begging made him want to cast the same spell again, "you…you have a visitor…please…"

"A visitor? I do not talk to visitors", he spat out the last word in disgust, turning his back to Wormtail.

"You will to this one, Voldemort."

He tensed, slowly turning around again, coming face to face with no one else than Godric Gryffindor who stood in the door like he owned it, ignoring the more than dozens of wands pointed at him.

"You have a beautiful home, Voldemort", Gryffindor sounded completely casual, like he had not just intruded a meeting of his worst enemy, "it's a shame your personality does not reflect it."

Fucking bastard.

"Do you have a death wish, Gryffindor?", he hissed between his teeth, "how dare you to…"

"I do not have a death wish- but it looks like you do", Gryffindor stepped into the room, still ignoring the wands from every single Death Eater in attendance and then he sat down at the head of the conference table- the spot that he always sat in- and leaned back, "sit down, we need to talk."

What. The. Fuck.

His red eyes started to sparkle with rage, the nerve of that bloody Founder to walk in here like it was a goddamn hotel, and to order him around in his own fucking house!

He was ready to cast a Crucio, but something in Gryffindor's expression stopped him- there was a silent warning on his face, more than a warning actually- a threat.

"The meeting is postponed", he hissed at the Death Eaters, never taking his focus off Gryffindor, "get out, all of you."

The Death Eaters knew better than to ask any questions or make comments, they simply apparated, one after the other, and Pettigrew, who was the only Death Eater who lived at the mansion all the time, practically raced out of the door, closing it behind himself with a bang.

There was a silence.

"What do you want, Gryffindor?", Tom eventually asked, not bothering to sit down like he had asked him to, "I do not negotiate if that's what you came here for."

"You don't?", Gryffindor raised an eyebrow, "I thought you would have finally come to your senses after what happened to your latest…member."

"I do not know what you are talking about."

"I am talking about Bellatrix Lestrange."

Tom curled his thin lips in contempt, "I am not discussing any of my Order members with you, Gryffindor. Is that all?"

"Dumbledore is winning the war, Voldemort", Gryffindor informed him calmly, stating it like a fact, "and he is going to turn the wizarding world into his depraved fantasy of a white-magic only society if we don't stop him."

"We? There's no we, Gryffindor. I'd rather die than to be working with scum like you", he snarled, "find yourself another ally- I am sure Potter would love nothing more than to lick your shoes and be your little bitch."

He'd half expected Gryffindor to cast a spell now, but the Founder just smiled, getting up, "have you ever heard the story of Icarus, Voldemort?"

"I do not care for any stories that are not about myself."

That made Gryffindor laugh, "don't fly too close to the sun, Thomas", and then he was gone, apparated straight from his conference room like it was nothing.

Don't fly too close to the sun, Thomas.

Thomas…

Tom cursed, grabbed the next best thing he saw- a chair- and threw it across the room, his whole body trembling with raw fury.

"I'll kill you, Gryffindor", he told no one in particular, "next time I see you, I'll fucking kill you!"

well...they will see each other again- in the next chap :D and Harry keeps defying Snape, which will not end...well.

I'd love some feedback from you all! :)

xoxo,

Antonie :)