At the end of the road that the Potter residence was located on, a tall, dark figure loomed, his shadow settling to the side as he leaned against a lamppost. The black robes this person wore hidall features, as his head was bowed just enough so that no light could reach his face. Beside him stood another person, also clad completely in black, but the bone white mask, which covered that second person's face shone in the lamplight. A strange sight to be sure, for neither of the two could be under twenty, making them a little too old to be trick-or-treating.
The leaning one stood up, tilting his face up slightly as he turned to face the person who stood beside him. This sudden turning swept the hood of his robe backwards, showing his face. It was a man, no mistake about that, but how much of him was human was the question. From a quick glance, this man seemed like your everyday citizen, dark hair neatly cut and his face beginning to wrinkle with age. But, there was only one problem with this seemingly normal human being. The man's face was pale, as if sunlight had not touched it in eons, and his eyes were red, like an angry serpent's. Despite these minor distortions, he was only a man, one who, as it seemed, had been quite handsome in his younger days, although his looks had been worn away with age and madness.
"Malfoy," the man spoke, a snake-like lisp tainting his almost perfect English Accent. "You remember the plan, do you not?"
"I do, milord," the second man, Malfoy, said as he kneeled on the black asphalt that covered to road. "I distract, you attack." The man stifled a chuckle. One of the first jokes he made in over a month. The first man didn't find it as funny and immediately kicked his accomplice in the shin with a black, leather-booted foot.
"This is no time for jokes," The man sneered, turning to look down the road, scanning the rooftops of houses where Muggles were sheltered. The thought of laughing families and happiness made him cringe. He HATED happiness. " The Potter boy will soon be dead. The Prophecy will soon be irrelevant, and I will continue my reign of terror over the Wizarding world. Not even old Bumblebee will stand a chance against me."
Hopping up and down on one foot in the middle of the road, holding his injured leg, the hood on Malfoy's cape slid off, revealing long blonde hair, tied up in the back with a black ribbon. "Oi, that hurt!" he whined, but stopped immediately as the meaning of his partner's words. "Milord, are you planning on taking on the greatest wizard of all time…."
"Fool!" the first man shouted, his voice harsh and booming. Just the trick to intimidate those lesser than you. "I am the greatest wizard of all time! After this, all shall fear me!"
"But, milord…" Malfoy started, cut of by his master's sudden disappearance. "Were the bloody hell…"
"But nothing, young Lucius!" the first man said sharply appearing further down the road, pride in his voice. "Tomorrow morning, the name of Lord Voldemort will be known throughout the WORLD because of tonight!" Voldemort pulled up the hood of his black robes over his dark coloured hair and began to walk down the street, whistling a small tune, progressing slowly towards the Potter residence, leaving Lucius Malfoy under the streetlight.
Lucius looked at the nearest hose, a tan rancher with a quaint little wrap-around porch. Lights shone brightly from the inside, mixed with the faint lyrics of one of his favorite childhood songs, the Monster Mash. He sighed, and reached inside a hidden pocket of his robes, drawing his wand.
"Well, he wanted a distraction…" Lucius muttered as he walked towards the house. As he reached the door, he hesitated. Was this REALLY the right thing to do? He shook his head. Now was not the time for second thoughts. If this went over right, Voldemort would be very pleased. But, if he went in and just killed them, wouldn't that be slightly, well, rude?
Lucius shrugged. "Whatever buys us time is good with me." With a small swish and flick, a tiny spout of fire emitted from the wand and created a giant torch from a neatly trimmed begonia bush. He smirked and turned his back on the house, which was slowly being engulfed by the flames. "Happy Halloween, Muggles."
The Roger's house was full of merriment as the annual Halloween Party continued on throughout the night in full swing. Families would gather here every year, pretty much a Godric's Hollow tradition. Adults sat and chatted, teenagers flirted, and children sang and danced to the Halloween classic that blared over the radio.
I was working in the lab late one nightWhen my eyes beheld an eerie sight…
A small girl, no more than seven, peered tugged at her mother's skirt, her face a mask of confusion and curiosity. "Mommy, why is the flowers on fire?"
The mother, no older than thirty, gave her daughter a look of confusion. "Stacie, what are you talking about?" She stood up from the easy chair she was in and walked to the windowsill, gasping at what she saw. Outside, the Asian Begonia, which she had cherished and raised from seed, had been engulfed in hungry flames that had begun to spread, licking the exterior of the house.
She let out a scream of horror and began shooing people out of the room, not daring to explain why. "It will scare the little ones," she told one of the adults whom she confided most in.
As the last of the guests were ushered out of the living room, the end table upon which the still playing radio sat burst into flames.
They played the Mash
They played the Monster Mash
The Monster Mash
It was a Graveyard Smash…