First Contact
Was actually nice catching up with Neville. I'm glad he's grown into himself. He was kind of a pussy in school. He told me about what he does in department of mysteries. Figures Tomboy would go to such extremes to stay alive. At least it explains my connection to Willy the snake lover. Apparently he made me a 'horcrux' the night he killed my parents.
For all the bloody good that'll do him. Two years into my stint in Azkaban, I found a clump of energy attached to my scar. Actually, it's cause of that that that I'm as connected to my magic as I am.
Whatever. I'm sittin in this throne room for a reason. Didn't take me long to find Riddle's hideout, or whatever the bloody hell he calls it, thanks to that connection. Could take him out and be done with it, but I think he deserves to feel the fear he's so proud of spreading. I'm just here to ghost that snake and let him know I'm back. The wards were strong, but thanks to all that siphoning of magic I did in the slam, I've gotten a new skill. Using the same process, I can create a magical dead zone within anywhere up to fifteen feet around me. Magical senses, ward, even spells of all kinds fail. Which is why Riddle doesn't know I'm here...yet.
--oo00HPR00oo--
Tom Marvollo Riddle, aka the Dark Lord Voldemort, was on top of the world. Even he had been surprised to see Harry Potter imprisoned. However, that meant that the only person capable of defeating him was rotting away in Azkaban. Sure, he'd been tempted to use the boy's likely anger to recruit him, but decided that the risk for betrayal was too great.
Now, with no chance of defeat, he was on easy street. An occasional raid, a few dark marks here and there, and everybody was paralyzed with fear. After a raid on the ministry for him to recover the prophecy pertaining to him, he'd been outed. Now, with the knowledge of his return, the wizarding world was constantly watching their backs. His minions were subtly infiltrating the ministry. Five years after his return, he all but ruled the country. Another year or two, and he would. With Potter eliminated, there was no need to rush.
As the Dark Lord was contemplating his many victories, every torch in his throne room was suddenly extinguished. Reigniting the flames, he looked for the reason. What he saw was his familiar, Nagini. Or rather, he saw her headless body.
Stepping down to the long form, he didn't noticed the shadow that passed behind him. Something compelled him to turn back to his grand throne. What he saw filled him with a fear he'd not felt in decades.
Resting on his seat was Nagini's head. As he slowly approached, jagged writing became visible, carved into the scaly hide.
And that makes seven. We'll finish this eventually Tom-a-hack, but
for now, enjoy what life you have left.
The fear gripping Voldemort's cold heart intensified as he saw the lightning bolt engraved underneath the note. Now panicking, he apparated away to check his horcruxes.
He would be severely disappointed.
--oo00HPR00oo--
Dragging into her flat after a busy day Hermione once again thought back to those eyes in the alley. It'd been a week since she'd seen them, but they kept invading her mind. Only one man of her acquaintance had eyes remotely like that.
'But there's no way. He's still in Azkaban.'
Just thinking about Harry again filled her with an immense sadness. Sighing Deeply, she strolled over to a battered Hogwarts school trunk. She'd kept all of the contents, barring Harry's Firebolt which was given to his Godfather.
Now, five years later, everything was in the exact same condition. On lonely nights, which were most nights for her, she'd open the trunk and simply hold one of the objects contained within. Her favorite was Harry's old invisibility cloak, which still held the smell she loved so much.
Hermione could still remember the moment she'd fallen in love with her best friend. It was at the end of their second year. She'd woken up from having been petrified by the basilisk and made her way, after a much needed stop at the bathroom, to the the Great Hall. The second she'd locked on to those green eyes, followed quickly by being locked in the attached arms, her heart had shown her the truth. For the next two years, she'd been too afraid of his rejection to tell him. Of course, intense regret immediately followed Harry to Azkaban, where'd he'd been to far gone to tell him.
With renewed regret, she opened the trunk. However, where the cloak usually rested (right on top), a note resided.
Hey 'Mione. I really wish I could talk to you, but I got a couple more 'errands' to run before I can give you my full attention. Thanks for keeping my stuff safe. As you can see, I've taken the cloak. Got a plan for it. There's something I want you to think about before we see each other face to face. It didn't take much self-examination while in Azkaban to realize this fact. I love you. I don't know exactly when it started, but its there. You always the one by my side. You've helped me through so much. I can only hope that you can feel the same for me, but I'll stay by you either way. I can't wait to see you again, as a friend or more.
All my love,
Harry
Hermione Granger cried tears of joy and sorrow. Joy because of Harry's love and apparent freedom. Sorrow for the lost time and approaching hardships. One thing. One thing stood firm, however. There was no bloody fucking way in hell she was going to let her man go again.
--oo00HPR00oo--
Hunt Log: day 7
Been on the trail for a week. This 'Riddick' cat knows how to cover his ass. Me and my team started at that Azkaban dump. One of the creepiest fucking places I've ever seen. When I took the job, that British prick warned me that I'd see strange things. Of course, I thought magic was a bunch of smoke-and-mirrors bullshit. Who wouldn't. Now, I'm not to sure.
I contacted some of my shadier intel sources for anything they could get. As it turns out, one of the tea-suckers was a wizard. Go figure. Anyway, I managed to get some info on this 'Harry Potter'. Kid was supposed to be the savior of the wizarding world. Around his fourth year, whatever that means, at school he was charged with killing another student. Probably snapped under all the pressure.
Whatever. I don't really give a shit why he's wanted as long as I'm paid.
Hunt log: Day 14
Really gettin' sick of this fucking country. Seems like every time I'm stuck outside for one reason or another it starts raining. We've been posted outside the apartment of some dame named Hermione Granger. Weird ass name. Gotta say, though, she's a pretty little 'un. She's supposed to be Riddick's best friend. The only reason we're still here is cause we spotted the little fucker here three days ago. He managed to disappear before we could get a tail on him.
But, see that this is the only real lead, I'm gonna stay for another few days before we move on.
Ah...and there we go.
--oo00HPR00oo--
Know I shouldn't still be here. I've gotten the cloak and left the note, so I should be gone. I just had to see her reaction to my message. Can't believe she saved my stuff. Neville told she was really fond of the cloak, but I got plans for it.
Here she is. Damn, she does look depressed. I want nothing more than to hold her, but I can't just yet. She's opened the trunk and there's the note. Why the fuck's she crying? Hmm...I'll figure this out later. Got some company.
--oo00HPR00oo--
The five man team slowly and quietly made their way to the apartment from different angles. The goal was to cut off any escape route for their target. The man called Toombs watched the approach from his vantage point on a nearby building. He'd hand picked the team for this job, so he was confident.
"Check in." he whispered into the microphone clipped to his ear.
"One. No sign yet." came a female's voice.
"Two. Still moving in." rumbled a deep African bass.
"Three. Alight." Toombs rolled his eyes at the wannabe 'gangsta' he'd found in Sweden.
"..."
"Five? Where are ya, five?" Toombs commanded when the final member didn't check in. "Two. See where the hell five went."
"..."
"Two! Goddammit! Check in everyone."
"..."
"You made three mistakes." came a deep voice from behind him. Toombs stiffened and waited for an opening. "One...you took the job. Two...you came light. A five man team? Not a single witch or wizard? Fuckin' insulting. And three...?"
Toombs spun, drawing his side arm. All he was given was a broken wrist, a cold piece of steel pressed against his throat, and a pair of silver-green eyes.
"...you let me get close. Now, who do we have here?"
"Toombs. Mercenary." he grunted, choosing to cooperate for now.
"Toombs...fitting. No my little merc...who hired you to track me?"
"Don't know. Never saw his face. I'm pretty sure he was a wizard, though, if those stupid ass robes were a hint. British...thats it."
"Hmmm..." came the accepting reply. "Well, here's what we're gonna do, mate. I'm gonna let you go, and you're gonna give this job up. That way, we're both happy. Sound good to you."
Without waiting for a reply, the blade vanished from the merc's throat, along with the target. Toombs looked out over the neighborhood, rubbing his neck.
"This ain't over yet, Riddick."