Wormtail tapped his foot impatiently. When is that bloody portkey going to get here?
"Wormtail," demanded a cruel voice. "Where is the boy?"
He quavered. "I don't know, my Lord. The portkey should have arrived by now."
The dark bundle sneered, Wormtail could hear it. "This is no doubt due to some incompetence on your part, rat. Crucio!"
A full five minutes later, the bundle lifted the curse and prodded his servant experimentally. "Damn it, I think he's gone brain dead." The bundle shifted slightly, clearly examining its surroundings.
Dogs howled in the near distance.
The bundle started to tremble. "Wormtail, get me out of here!"
The lump next to it twitched slightly, and then slumped completely.
"Blast."
The next morning, the villagers of Little Hangleton went to investigate the graveyard, having heard strange noises emanating from there the night before.
All they discovered was a pile of torn rags and the remains of what looked like a baby.