The third day after Voldemort fell to Harry Potter for the final time, a strange man was seen slinking into the Forbidden Forrest. The mass of students and volunteers who were repairing Hogwarts hardly stopped to stare, for there was far too much to be done at the time to worry about a stray person. Luna Lovegood stood straight and narrowed her eyes, but a gentle prodding from Neville set her back into motion. The moment was not entirely forgotten, merely cataloged.
The man's name was Grant; no last name. He had thrown that away the moment he decided to become a Death Eater. The forest seemed to hold the very presence of his old master, within the fog that furled itself around the bending oaks and in the rustle of dry leaves across the parched ground.
He tried not to pass the space where Harry Potter had feinted death and tricked Voldemort for the final time. He swore revenge on the boy, but at the moment he was not the first priority. There was something much more important at hand.
It was many hours of travel that finally led him to the Devil's Mouth, a cave that dipped deep into the earth and seemed to suck everything dark within it. He slowed his pace as he drew nearer.
"Lumos," Grant whispered nervously. His words echoed deep down into the stone. He hoped it wouldn't wake disturb anything crawling within the depths.
He began a slow descent in the the ancient structure, the final message from Voldemort burning in his pocket.
Find her.
He shuddered again, feeling a chill settle upon his old bones. He had lived his life at the side of Voldemort, ever since he came to Hogwarts. His loyalty would not waver now. Not ever.
His footing became sure of itself, so he let himself become lost in his memories.
"Hey Grant! Nice glasses!"
Eli, a third year roughly the size of a baby troll snatched his glasses from his face and chortled dumbly.
"Not much an improvement. Wish I could fix that hairdo!"
Grant's hand jumped automatically to his greasy, slicked back hair.
"The hair of a gentlemen," his mom had said primly.
Eli snickered, dropping his glasses to the floor and rolling his foot over them.
Crunch.
"Defend yourself," a voice murmured from behind him.
He turned to see Tom Riddle, the young, poker faced boy who had been one of many watching his torment. There was almost a bored look upon his handsome features, but Grant still felt compelled to prove himself.
Grant, mouth flapping open, nodded.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he cried, whipping around very suddenly.
Eli's rough face went rigid in shock a moment before the rest him stiffened and crashed to the floor. He and Tom began snickering, then, upon eye contact, their laughter grew louder and louder. The crowd shifted away nervously, some of them already beginning to guess what was within Voldemort.
Thanks," Grant chuckled, eyes dancing happily.
Tom smirked at him.
Their lives slowly began to wrap around one another, in a way they had never imagined possible. They flowed in perfect synch with one another, the first years of their life had merely been a large stone set in the river. They had flowed slowly around it, only to be joined on the other side. Their goals were the same, and the road there was to be walked together.
It was he who decided to call himself Tom's Death Eater.
"Whatever threatens your well-being will be destroyed," Grant growled, one day, eyes darting around the hall as if he expected to be challenged while walking from one class to another.
Tom laughed, sounding pleased.
"I know Grant. I can trust you, more than anyone."
Smoke curled around the memory, drawing him back.
Grant shook his head roughly, focusing on the task at hand. He believed himself to be Tom's only true friend in the world. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest now that Tom had been vanished from his life. He was thinking about the last day he and Voldemort talked before the prophecy was made.
"Don't go, Master," he had begged.
"This child poses no threat. I have found where his family is hiding, thanks to Wormtail. It should only take five minutes."
The memories flashed faster now.
He had walked away, only to have his killing curse rebounded. Grant had not seen him for such a long while...thinking him to be dead.
Bellatrix and her husband, thrown into jail, several Death Eaters turning their backs on the Dark Lord.
He thought of the night he returned.
This was when his face abruptly slammed into a wall of stone. He gulped audibly, stepping back to inspect the structure. At a glance, it appeared to be a large scattering of boulders. Yet nuzzled in the shadows of the two largest rocks was a darker rock that was smoothed at a slant. The gnarled grass reached around it, keeping it firmly in place. This underground haven also held a small lake, and variety of wildlife that most scientist did not knew existed. It was her prison. And now, he was forced to go to her.
To the monster.
He slowly pulled out his wand, hands trembling slightly. He took a deep breath, then murmured the words.
"Grant of the First Ring, here to waken the serpent from eternal slumber."
The thick grass seemed to hiss and unfurl and creep away from the stone surface. It trembled, shifting around to leave a small place. Just enough space for him to worm his way into the darkness. He forced himself through, finding the steps that led to her chamber. This journey was short enough that his frantic mind had not even thought of running by the time he reached the bottom.
Grant hastily pointed his wand into the dark room, which was lit only by a candle. A girl lay on the grand bed, flat on her back and hands folded across her chest. Her pale blond hair was fanned about her, shimmering in the darkness. She would have appeared to be a corpse, if not for the faint rising and falling of her chest.
"E-enervate," he whispered.
May the Dark Lord's daughter awaken!
Within the shadows, the girl opened her dark green eyes to stare in wonder at the room about her.
