It was the end of May, quite warm, and from what Daphne had told him, the weather was beautiful. Harry didn't enjoy the beauty, as he couldn't see it, and Magic's knowledge was nothing but cold, statistical information. Having already finished his assignments before his exams, Harry was laying outside, flat on his back as he felt the warmth of the air against his face, his hand in Magic's strong one as she lay on her back next to him. Harry could hear the sound of birds, could smell the scent of flowers and trees blooming. The perfect tranquility of the calm outside made him smile. It was one reminder among many that even in times of rising darkness, there were things to look forward to.
Around him, Harry could hear the faint sound of a few other students as they enjoyed the outside weather, though there weren't many at the moment. Most of them were inside or outside studying, and thus, not making sound he could hear. Harry had walked with Magic so he was on the other side of the lake, which was far from where most students went, but still within the Hogwarts grounds. When he'd gone outside, he'd wanted to enjoy a place that would be peaceful, so he could simply lay and listen to nature.
"Isn't this nice, Magic?" Harry asked.
"You think it's nice." Magic stated in response. "You enjoy it."
"I'm glad you're with me." Harry said. "I wonder what next year's going to bring. Hopefully it's a fairly normal year like this one."
Magic said nothing in response. Thinking back on the year so far, Harry had to admit that, aside from a couple of events, including his being inducted into the Unspeakable's department in the Ministry of Magic before he'd even graduated from Hogwarts, the year had been fairly normal. He hadn't lost his magic, hadn't had a professor possessed by Voldemort attempt to kill him. The only Voldemort possession had been his attempt to take over Magic's body, which he hadn't been able to sustain for long. Both she and Harry knew how to combat that if he attempted it again, though, and he found himself glad that Magic was safe, learning such things, and would keep him safe as well.
Between the major events of the year, Harry had tested the new addition to his Brailler, which he was going to use for exams. He also tested the paper which could, if he placed it on a page of a book, or any print parchment or paper, translate its text immediately into braille. Both had worked flawlessly, and Harry had given the Specialty Magical Needs shop in Diagon Alley his feedback.
Both he and Magic had continued to grow taller as the year went on. Harry's voice had deepened, while Magic's had also deepened slightly, and matured into that of someone who sounded like a beautiful woman. They weren't growing quite as much now, though, and Magic, aware as she was of their physical states, had told him that they were nearing the end of their physical maturity. Because of how much they'd grown, not only were both of them taller than some of their friends, but Harry had used magic to resize his clothes to keep up with him. When he'd had more time to talk with Harry, Sirius had remarked that he and Magic had grown faster than anyone he'd known. Harry could agree with that observation, as they were taller than most of their fellow classmates.
Though there were still many students who were jealous of Harry and what he could do, the bullying had stopped, due to the points taken from Slytherin, and surprisingly enough, Gryffindor. Those who tried anything got no results except reflected spells and no injuries to either Harry or Magic, which was likely a deterrent as well.
Harry's attraction to women, and Magic and Daphne in particular, was on his mind quite a lot throughout the days. Rose continued to watch him as he slept, something he was glad for. Being outside in a public area kept his thoughts restrained, as he wouldn't want to try any experiments with intimacy in plain view of anyone that could walk over to see them both. Speaking of someone coming, Harry thought to himself as he heard footsteps approaching.
"Enjoying yourself?" Tracey asked in a chipper voice. Harry sat up with Magic mirroring his movement beside him.
"I like listening to things out here, yeah." Harry responded as Tracey sat down in front of both of them.
"And how are you doing today, amazon woman?" Tracey asked jokingly, referring to Magic's height of around one meter and eighty-six centimeters. At that height, she was taller than most of the girls and women at Hogwarts.
"I'm identified as Magic." She replied placidly as Harry chuckled. "Harry is well. I am well."
"I expected that." Tracey said.
"How've you been lately, Tracey?" Harry asked.
"Doing okay." She responded. "I've learned some pretty good defensive measures, so no one's tried anything to me for quite some time."
"How's the studying?" Harry asked.
"Let's put it this way. I don't know how you're able to relax and enjoy time out here. I'm going to be studying transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts right here with my good friends." She responded cheerfully as Harry heard her opening her bag. "Want to help me?"
"Sure." Harry responded. "What do you want me to do, ask you questions?"
"That'll do." Tracey responded.
"How about this." Harry said. "Magic, you ask us both. We'll try and answer. I could do with studying some also."
"Here you are, Magic." Tracey said as she placed the transfiguration book in Magic's free hand, Harry tugging his from her right.
Harry heard Magic open the book and flip through it, then state calmly, "I possess this information and don't require the book."
"I see." Tracey said. "Why'd you flip through, then?"
"Harry wished to hear me do so." Magic responded.
"It's true." Harry said. "I find it a bit amusing how she flips through the pages, and then has all the information. Magic's great at that, though."
"So tell me, Harry." Tracey said as he heard her putting the book back in her bag. "Does Magic treat you gently, like a lover?"
Harry blushed, but responded, "Getting pretty brazen there, Tracey."
"Yes, I am, but I'm curious and I like to see the two of you interact. And, you've been pretty brazen with me before, too, so why not." Tracey responded as she rubbed her hands together, her voice cheerful and devious. "So. Who will it be, Harry? Magic, or Daphne?"
"Be... For what?" Harry asked as he blushed deeper.
"For marriage, romance, though if it's romance, it would be Daphne I'm sure, since I'd find it surprising if Magic understands any romantic gestures." Tracey said with a grin in her voice.
"Well, I'm not sure yet." Harry said. "Could be you."
"Dreamed about me, Harry?" Tracey asked.
Harry blushed.
"Aha!" Tracey exclaimed. "So, you have, then!"
"Yes." Harry said calmly. "There. Are you happy?"
"Then I still have a chance." Tracey said deviously, and in a moment, Harry felt her hands gently clasp his face. He pulled back and Tracey laughed.
"You've always been the more... Emotional of the three of you girls." Harry said. "Now, are we going to keep this conversation going, or study?"
"Okay, then, Harry. We'll study." Tracey replied. "But you do take all the fun out of life, you know." Tracey let out a dreamy sigh and said dreamily, "And here I was, all ready to get my first kiss."
Harry said nothing to that comment, and Magic asked her first question at his thoughts for her to do so. She quizzed them for a few hours before they made their way into the Hogwarts castle for dinner, and walking with Magic on his left and Tracey on his right, Harry felt content.
With the new items he'd got from Specialty Magical Needs, Harry was able to complete the written portion of his exams without Anastasia reading him anything, simply using what he had and acting with complete independence. He missed her reading to him, though, and as he could now sense Magic's thoughts and the conclusions she formed if he chose, the Professors had no problem with her sitting in with him as he took his exams.
In Transfiguration, the tasks they performed were either transfiguring an animal into an object, or an object into an animal. It was something that many of Harry's fellow third years found difficult, but as usual, he was able to complete with his usual natural ease.
Charms was just as easy, in terms of the practical portion. It involved a cheering charm, which Harry simply performed by pushing a type of cheerful magic into Ron, which was quite similar to the actual cheering charm itself. Ron performed the same on him, though was a bit nervous and made Harry laugh rather hard before he dispelled the magic on him.
Care of Magical Creatures involved dealing with hippogriffs. Hagrid, who was presiding over the exam, said that they would pass if they managed to approach their hippogriff and lead it at least once around a cordoned off area that Hagrid had set up for the exam. Extra credit was given to anyone who could ride the hippogriff rather than simply lead it. Harry was able to do fairly well, after bowing, simply allowing the animal to come to him before he petted it, told it how kind it was, and explained, quite calmly, that he'd be leading it around the area. As it wasn't anything that Magic could help Harry with, she stood off to the side while Harry performed his task, and was awarded full marks for his efforts.
Potions didn't go quite as well for him as he'd have liked. He was allowed to work with Magic and use the knowledge he received from her, but she wasn't allowed to physically help him in any way. The potion he prepared didn't seem to have the right consistency that it was supposed to, and Professor Lara was about to grade Harry as acceptable before he asked her if she'd have graded anyone else who could see with such a grade. She then changed the grade to a poor, and Harry was satisfied that he'd been treated fairly and like everyone else, though wished he could have done better on his exam.
The practical for History of Magic was simply about remembering learned information, which Harry thought he'd done okay with. Herbology, however, also wasn't one of his better subjects, and as Professor Sprout wanted him to rely on his own abilities only, Magic was asked to leave.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was probably the most interesting exam Harry had ever taken, with Professor Lupin's obstacle course that dealt with a grindylow, Red Caps, hinkypunk, and a boggart. Harry indulged himself a bit when he dealt with the boggart, shifting it, for a moment, into Daphne, and making the boggart Daphne gently touch his face, as he'd wanted to know what it would feel like for Daphne to touch him. He grinned and reformed it into a metal box before leaving the trunk, keeping what he'd done to himself and knowing, but not caring, that Magic would know what he'd done.
Part of their Muggle Studies exam involved an explanation of their choice, of something innovative that Muggles had come up with. Harry wrote a bit about rockets and the space program, and how Muggles had gone into outer space without using a bit of Magic, something that Wizards hadn't yet done, as far as he knew. He didn't know exactly how well he'd done on the exam, as it didn't touch on any of the topics they'd learned in the class, though in case the professor didn't believe him, he put the name of the famous Neil Armstrong, the first man to walk on the moon, in his essay. After that, exams were finished, and he and his friends were quite relieved.
Because Gryffindor had failed to win the Quidditch cup, something that Wood was still miffed with Harry about, Slytherin ended up winning the house cup. Harry and Daphne, and to their great surprise, Ron, congratulated them, and wanted to know how Tracey felt about it. She told them she rather enjoyed it, and hoped to plow Gryffindor into the ground again next year. It was said in a joking tone, and they all laughed. That evening, as usual, they packed up their items, and the next day, were all on the Hogwarts Express on their way back home. Harry was rather eager this year, as he'd be returning to guardians that actually cared for and loved him.
"Got any plans for the summer, everyone?" Harry asked as the train pulled out of the station.
"Yeah, actually." Ron responded. "We're probably going to see the Quidditch World Cup this year. Hermione, Daphne, want to come?"
"Sure." Hermione replied brightly.
"My dad can usually get tickets from work, so it shouldn't be a problem. I didn't think you'd want to attend, though, Harry, not liking loud crowds and all." Ron said.
"No, I'd rather stay behind." Harry said, smiling.
"What are you doing, Tracey, anything? You want to come, too?" Ron asked, as Tracey had chosen to sit with them on their journey back.
"Oh, I'm sure my family has already got tickets to see the Quidditch World Cup, so I imagine I'll see you there." Tracey said.
"Great!" Ron responded.
"I wanted to tell you all that, in addition to quitting Divination, I've dropped Muggle Studies." Hermione said.
"Why?" Ron asked. "You passed your exam with three-hundred twenty percent!"
"Yeah, which only proves I could take its O.W.L. now, probably, and pass it. Besides, you all know how... Irritable I'd get using that time turner with so much homework." Hermione said.
"Or, how about the time when I was walking from one end of the castle to the other." Harry said with a grin. "And, Hermione was on the first floor, and on the sixth, too. And do you know what the Hermione's were doing?"
"Studying." Hermione said in a mollified tone. "Anyway, it was too much stress to deal with something like that."
"I imagine so." Harry said. "I certainly wouldn't. No time turner, then, and a normal schedule now?"
"That's right." Hermione replied. "No piles of homework and two Hermione's studying in a single two hour period, also."
"I imagine you've aged a few months beyond the rest of us, too." Harry said.
"Yes, probably." Hermione responded. "Another reason not to use it."
"Well, I'm glad you're living with us in the natural world without going into the past." Harry said. "You've really got to learn when to back down the achievements, Hermione."
"Well, if this year taught me anything about that, it's that I need to use common sense when it comes to the classes I take." Hermione said. "Divination's rubbish, and Muggle Studies, well, I lived in the Muggle world most of my life."
"Divination isn't rubbish." Ron responded. "Well, maybe it is. But it's an easy grade."
"And Muggle Studies is for me, too." Hermione stated, then added strictly, "And I'm ashamed of you, Ron, only taking Divination for an easy grade. The easiest path is the best for you, then, is that it?"
"Why not?" Ron asked.
"Please, let's not do this today." Tracey said. "No arguments. I just want to have fun on the way back home."
"Okay." Hermione said after a long few seconds. Harry gasped.
"Hermione, are you really backing down from a debate? The world must be ending! Quick, everyone take cover!"
Hermione hit Harry on the knee and huffed. Harry and everyone else in the compartment but Magic, chuckled.
The rest of the train ride was filled with games of Exploding Snap, idle conversation, a sumptuous lunch from the witch that pushed the trolley, and enjoying the presence of friends. When Harry was led off the train at platform Nine and Three Quarters by Magic, he bid his friends goodbye and made his way over to where Sharen and Sirius were calling to him, grinning happily.
"Hey!" He called.
"Hey, kiddo!" Sirius said, hugging Harry. "Magic!" He hugged her, too, and she unemotionally returned the embrace with one arm.
"Ready to go back home, Harry and Magic?" Sharen asked as she pulled he and Magic into a hug.
"Sure am." Harry responded.
"Then, if you don't mind, send us all!" Sirius called in a chipper voice. Harry did so with a thought, breathing deeply of the familiar air of the living room in Sharen's house, and immediately feeling some pieces of magic that felt like the expanded compartments within his trunk.
"Feels like someone's done some work." Harry said.
"Yeah, I did." Sirius responded. "Sharen's delightful invite was something I decided I didn't want to pass up, so I added a room to the house. How'd I do, Harry?"
"The magic feels stable, so I'd say, perfect." Harry said. "But, just to make sure electronics work, Magic, change it a bit."
Harry felt the magic change as his flame of magic directly manipulated it, then said, "There you are. Now, you can have your own television."
"Great. That'll keep him off my couch watching hours of movies on the weekends." Sharen said, sounding like she was smiling. Harry felt a deep well of joy at the casual camaraderie between all of them, grinning widely and feeling Magic grip his hand a bit tighter, just as he'd wanted of her.
"I feel you've added some magic in my room, too." Harry said as he continued to feel the magic. "What's that for, some type of alert system?"
"That's right." Sirius responded. "Sharen and I agreed on a system to set up, since you didn't want to get too amorous with Magic, though if you did, James would probably be rather proud of you."
"Well, I agree with Harry, and I'm glad you're willing to be responsible about your situation." Sharen responded. "What we've set up is this. You and Magic start to get too amorous with each other, beyond light kissing, and a rather loud alarm's going to sound."
"Good." Harry said. "Glad that's taken care of."
"There's one other thing I'd like to talk with you about, Harry." Sirius said. "Sharen really wants to see the Quidditch World Cup, so I've purchased four tickets. Will you come with us?"
"I suppose so." Harry said. "But I don't really want to be a part of the loud crowd."
"Come to spend time with your family." Sharen encouraged. "Besides, I've never seen a Quidditch match before, because of my status as a Squib. Sirius heard that, and he's determined to change it."
"Ah, that reminds me." Sirius interjected. "Why not create yourself a broom, Harry, so you and I can fly, maybe get a bit of Quidditch in ourselves."
"Not in thunder storms, we won't." Harry said.
"After what happened to you with lightning striking you, even I know that one." Sirius replied.
"Well, I'm so very glad you know how to be responsible." Harry said, grinning. "Right now, I'd just like to lounge on the couch with my beautiful Magic and watch a bit of television, maybe have one of your excellent home cooked meals, Sharen."
"And beautiful you are, Magic." Sirius said. "Pretty tall, with those dark eyes and long hair, and elegant, but strong features."
"I've been complimented on my beauty a total of two-hundred forty-four times during the third Hogwarts year." Magic responded.
"Well, we'll have to triple that at least next year." Sirius said, clapping his hands a bit as Harry made his way over to the couch and sat down. Magic did the same next to him, and he leaned against her with a grin.
"What would you like to watch, Harry?" Sharen asked as she gently rubbed Harry's shoulder.
"Oh, how about some science fiction." Harry said.
"Here you are, then. Science fiction for you, and in about two hours, I'll have dinner made." Sharen said kindly. "And, tomorrow, it's study time for you. At least three or four hours a day, I want you caught up on your homework before we go to the Quidditch World Cup."
"Don't worry." Harry said. "With me sleeping only four hours a night these days, I'll have plenty of time to study."
Harry found Sirius more entertaining than the television shows they were watching, as he seemed thrilled by the simplest things, such as how they were able to make a door open without the person touching it, or how they could show a person floating in a room to give the appearance they were in a place without gravity. Dinner, as usual, was delicious, and when Harry climbed happily into his bed that night, he realized that he wanted a family of his own, and dreamed of he and Daphne with children, who would run and play in and outside a comfortable and nice home, without the worry of Voldemort to concern them. That was truly living, Harry thought to himself after he woke.
From twelve in the morning to twelve in the afternoon, Harry studied and completed the assignments given to him by his professors. The rest of the time was spent with Sharen and Sirius, and Harry noticed how Sharen indulged Sirius' desires to visit various Muggle places, such as movie theatres or restaurants, or simply spending a half hour with him, watching his fascination with Muggle money, and calmly teaching him how to use it. As Harry listened to them talking a couple days after he'd come back to his home, he quietly turned toward Magic and said, "What do you think, Magic?"
"You can sense my thoughts and determine them without conversation." Magic stated.
"You're right." Harry said. "But I like listening to you talk, and it's boring to sense your thoughts all the time. So, tell me what you think. Sharen and Sirius, they're pretty close, don't you think?"
"Yes." Magic stated. "Sharen appears to enjoy simple fascinations that Sirius Black possesses. Sirius enjoys Sharen's personality and her proficiency in the use of Muggle items. I conclude a seventy-one point four percent chance they are falling in love."
"It sounds so romantic when you say that with such cold precision." Harry responded with a smirk.
"I informed you of the conclusion you requested. Romance wasn't calculated in my response." Magic replied.
"Well, that's okay." Harry said. "Besides, Sirius will probably have something else to occupy his mind. I'm going to make brooms for us, with your help, of course. How about three. One for me, and two for Sharen and Sirius. So, two of them won't need the accessibility features, obviously."
"I've enhanced flight, acceleration, and breaking. The brooms will be more responsive than your previous one by eighty-four point nine seven percent." Magic stated. "Yours will shield you from severe weather, both sound and effect."
"So, if I'm ever flying through a snow storm, it'll be like flying through nothing at all." Harry said. "What ever would I do without you, Magic? You do such nice things for me."
"Feel empty." Magic stated.
"You're right. I would." Harry responded. "So, create the brooms. We'll surprise Sirius and Sharen."
Harry felt his flame of magic as it formed the three brooms, his leaning against his shoulder. Harry felt the smooth wood, and through his sensing of magic, could tell the broom was far more precise and efficient in its spells than what his previous broom had been. To his magical senses, it felt like an elegant thing of beauty and he grinned, hardly able to wait to fly it.
"Sharen and Sirius are kissing." Magic stated.
"We'll leave them to it, then." Harry said after a long moment. "But, engrave their names on the handles of their brooms and make them appear in the kitchen where they'll see them when they're done."
Harry felt the magic at work as he sat on the couch near the television, but didn't turn it on. Magic joined him and put her right arm around him, her right hand gently touching his face. Harry smiled, feeling a deep love for her even as he thought about Sharen and Sirius. He wouldn't be surprised if they got married, and decided that wouldn't bother him at all. Though he'd only known Sirius for a little less than a year, and Sharen for much longer, they seemed good for one another. Sharen was calmer, more practical, and Harry could imagine Sirius angrily shouting about one thing or another while Sharen spoke calmly to him and asked him to examine the situation before charging in, presented him with a list of possible options. The thought was pleasant to him, and he was just starting to daydream about them marrying and having children when he heard a shout of pure delight from the kitchen just before Sirius came running into the sitting room.
"Harry!" Sirius shouted, excited. "These are fantastic! I've not seen anything this good since the Firebolt, in fact, these are probably better! Come on, we've got to try them out!"
Grinning, Harry stood to do just that, entering the back yard with Sirius and Sharen before, with a thought, he'd expanded the available space they had, using similar magic to that which enlarged the inside of some compartments in his trunk, and placed a ward around the yard that would prevent them from crossing the boundaries, slowing their brooms to a stop if they were getting close to the ward he'd put up. After another thought, Harry had Magic create herself one of the brooms as Sirius, grinning, shot into the air with a shout of delight.
"So, how, exactly, do you fly one of these?" Sharen asked, and from her voice, she was smiling.
"I'll show you." Harry said as he mounted his broom. "Just do what I do. Now, when you kick off, don't do it too hard at all, just lightly jump while you hold on to the broom. Just a second before you do anything, though."
Harry lightly kicked off and felt himself rising into the air. The broom was so sensitive that he felt like it was responding to his thoughts rather than his movements. His heart pounded with a great joy and he was grinning as he gently set down.
"Okay." He said. "The broom's going to be very sensitive, so be very careful. Magic, stay next to her until Sharen gets the hang of flying, okay?"
"How exactly do you tell it where to go?" Sharen asked.
"To go up, you tip the broom so it'll point up. Down is, of course pointing it down, and staying in a hover is keeping it level. To move forward, you lean your body forward. To go left or right, you lean your body in those directions. Be very very careful, and don't tense up." Harry said. "A friend of mine, Neville, made that mistake during his first flying lesson. He fell and broke his wrist."
"Well, if I fall and break my wrist, you'll be here to heal me, won't you?" Sharen asked.
"Hey!" Sirius shouted as he flew past them. "Come on, slow pokes!"
Harry heard Sharen chuckle, and after about twenty minutes under his and Magic's guidance, Sharen had become quite proficient in flying. She couldn't do a lot of fancy moves, but flying straight and turning, going up and down, she could do. It was only after Harry taught her that he joined Sirius in the air, flying quickly for a time before he had Magic create them a Quaffle and a goal post at either end of the expanded and warded yard so they could play a bit of Quidditch. Harry and Sirius played Keepers, respectively, and Magic and Sharen were the Chasers for their teams. Magic would be trying to get past Sirius, and Sharen, past Harry. They all found the game fun, and were chatting happily about it as they went back inside. It almost made Harry want to play Quidditch at Hogwarts again, but he'd already made his decision in that regard. As he fell asleep that night, he dreamed of flying with Sharen and Sirius, their children, and children of his own, all laughing and having fun, completely unaware of the plans Voldemort was making.
*** Frank Bryce POV ***
He awoke feeling pain shooting through his bad leg, which was getting worse in his old age, though despite that, he still performed his gardening duties, tending the Riddle House as well as he could. The villagers who lived in Little Hangleton believed in the nonsense that Frank had killed the Riddle's in their house many years ago, but the murders had been quite odd. There had been no sign of forced entry, no sign, even, that the Riddle family had been killed by any conventional means. There were no wounds, no head trauma, it had been as if the Riddles had dropped dead without any cause what so ever. Frank had always wondered to himself if something unknown had caused the murders, something almost like magic.
"Nonsense!" One of the patrons at the bar had said to Frank, but despite the fact that it did sound like a ludicrous sort of thing, Frank had never discarded the idea.
After lying in bed for a minute or so after he'd awoke, Frank levered himself out of bed and hobbled his way into his kitchen to refill the hot water bottle he used to ease the pain and stiffness in his knee. As he stood at the sink and began filling the kettle, he looked up at the Riddle house and noticed lights glimmering in the upstairs windows.
"Kids." Frank grumbled to himself. "Always trying to cause problems."
He heaved a sigh. Some of the young boys in the village took delight in attempting to torment Frank by tearing up the gardens, or even throwing stones at the windows, breaking into the house just to see him tottering across the garden, brandishing his walking stick and croaking at them to leave. Judging from the flickering quality of the lights he saw, the boys had started a fire in the house.
Frank didn't possess a telephone, though even if he had, he didn't trust the police ever since he'd been accused of killing the Riddles. According to them, he had been the only individual with the means to do so. If it hadn't been for the oddity of their deaths, Frank was sure he'd have been carted off to jail. But, as it was, they had no way to prove he caused the murders.
Sighing again and grunting slightly from the pain in his knee, Frank went up the stairs as quickly as his old leg would allow, dressed, and was back to grab a rusty old key by the door. Slipping the key into a pocket, Frank grabbed hold of his walking stick and hobbled off toward the Riddle house.
As Frank examined the house, he noted that the front door didn't appear to have been forced. None of the windows had been forced open, either, and weren't broken. It was as if someone other than he had a key to get in. Frank made his way to the back of the house, unlocking a door that was almost completely covered in ivy. Without a sound, he opened the door and stepped within the spacious kitchen.
Frank listened as well as he was able, half deaf as he was, for any sound that might be overhead. He heard nothing as he moved through the kitchen toward the door leading to the hall, smelling the scent of decay as he moved through the house. While the kitchen was in darkness, the hall was a bit lighter due to the windows on either side, and as he quietly climbed the stairs, he found himself appreciating the thick dust on the stone, which would keep his approach quiet to anyone currently taking residence where they shouldn't be.
Once on the landing, Frank immediately noticed where the intruders were as he turned right. At the end of the passage, a door was open a crack, and he saw the flickering light shining through, casting a long sliver of gold across the black floor. Grasping his walking stick tightly, Frank quietly and slowly edged his way toward the door, and several feet from the room, was able to see a narrow slice of the room. To his surprise, the fire had been lit in the grate. The sound of an eager man's voice spoke within the room, and Frank stood completely still, listening.
"There is more in the bottle, my Lord, if you are still hungry."
"Later." Another man responded, his voice rather high pitched, and icy cold like a sudden blast of freezing wind. Frank shivered a bit, the voice striking a bit of fear into him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "Move me closer to the fire, Barty."
Frank turned his right ear toward the door so he could hear better. The sound of a bottle being put down came next, then a chair being dragged across the floor. Frank saw a glimpse of a man wearing a long black cloak, with straw blond hair. Barty, he surmised was the man's name, as the other had called him such.
"Where is Nagini?" The cold voice asked.
"I believe she's exploring the house, my Lord, but you needn't worry. I'll make sure she's back in time for her milking." Barty said, his voice eager to please.
"Very good." The cold man replied. "How goes your assignment, Barty?"
"Well, my Lord." Barty replied. "I've gathered all the information we need about the boy."
"Tell me." The cold man said.
"The girl you spoke of is the boy's magic, my Lord." Barty responded eagerly. "And from all the files I've gathered from the Ministry, he performs magic with a natural ease that could be a danger to us both."
"Then we shall plan appropriately how to deal with him." The cold man stated.
"May I ask how long we'll be here, my Lord?" Barty asked.
"Three weeks, perhaps longer." The cold man replied. "The place is moderately comfortable, and proceeding before the Quidditch World Cup is over would be unwise."
Frank inserted a finger into his ear and started to rotate it, having thought he'd heard the word Quidditch, which wasn't a word at all. After a moment, however, he stopped, considering. Perhaps he hadn't misheard after all. He decided to listen intently rather than attempt to clean his ear.
"Yes, my Lord." Barty responded.
"Continue your report on the boy." The cold voice stated.
"The boy can sense magic, my Lord. He will know of any magical traps we might lay for him." Barty said.
"Then, we shall use Muggle technology to elude him." The cold voice said.
Muggle, Frank thought. Just what was Muggle? He continued to listen.
"But, my Lord." Barty was saying. "His guardian, Henderson, is Muggle, he might recognize such things. And why would we use the things the filthy Muggles have made as their own?"
"Because, fool, if the boy senses magic, we cannot use it to gain his capture." The cold voice responded.
"Then what is your plan, my Lord?" Barty asked eagerly. "If I may ask."
"First." The cold voice stated in an almost hiss. "We shall capture his Muggle guardian, but only if our primary plan fails. You will inform me if that is the case, will you not?"
"Of course, my Lord." Barty said. "I'll be stationed at Hogwarts as you command."
"Very good." The cold voice responded. "Either way, the boy will die, and I will be more powerful than I've ever been before."
Criminals, Frank thought. These men were planning to kill someone.
"But, my Lord, what about the girl?" Barty asked.
"Since she is the boy's magic, you will simply bind her." The cold voice said. "Then the boy will have no defense."
Magic? Frank's mind went to his suspicions about the Riddle's deaths, and he wondered if these men were the ones responsible. Frank listened more attentively.
"But what if she doesn't come with him?" Barty asked.
Frank heard the sound of paper being flipped through.
"It says here that the boy's magic was bound when he, himself, and not the girl, was there. We will get him alone, and if the girl is with him, then we will use her to gain the boy's cooperation. And if she's not, then we shall use the promise of the boy regaining his magic to make him cooperate. If we can't bind her, then we'll use his guardians to gain his cooperation." The cold voice stated. "But, stop for now. I believe I hear Nagini."
The cold voice changed to strange sounds that Frank had never before heard, an odd hissing, spitting sound he made without drawing any breath. Initially, Frank thought the man was having some type of seizure, but he'd spoken of hearing someone or something called Nagini. Hearing movement behind him, Frank turned and spotted something huge slithering along the passageway toward him. He stared, horrified, at the huge snake as it drew closer, and quickly thought of his options. If he stayed where he was, the snake would kill him, and if he tried to go back the way he came, the same result would likely occur. And, if he entered the room where the two men were planning murder, they probably wouldn't hesitate to kill him, too. His heart pounded as the snake drew level with him, and he watched, astonished, as it passed him and entered the room through the crack in the door. The hissing, spitting sounds continued, and as Frank clutched his walking stick and felt terror, he thought of a strange, impossible idea, that this man could talk to snakes. Before he could move to leave, the cold voice spoke.
"Nagini has interesting news, Barty. According to her, there is an elderly Muggle man standing right outside this room. And, undoubtedly, he has heard everything we've been talking about."
Frank felt icy terror shoot through him, but also felt courage, a bravery that had always served him well in the war. When it was time for action, Frank always acted. Clearly, now was the time.
Before he could move, he heard footsteps and the door was open. He was greeted with a man of average height, with an eager, almost hungry expression on his face, which seemed rather manic with insanity.
"Come in, Muggle." Frank recognized the voice of Barty, and clearly, knew there was no where else to go but into the room.
Clutching his walking stick, Frank entered. Though his heart pounded with fear, he was no longer trembling. He saw the large snake curled up on the rug, and an armchair facing the fire, though he could only see its back, and nothing within. To his right, he spotted a woman who would have been beautiful if it weren't for her cold expression and eyes that seemed almost dead, eyes that focused on him with an eery gaze.
"So." The high, cold voice said. "You've heard every word, Muggle?"
"What's that you're calling me?" Frank asked in a defiant voice.
"I am calling you a Muggle, which means you are not a Wizard, and are incapable of performing any magic what so ever." The high, cold voice stated in an even colder tone, if it was possible.
"Well." Frank said bravely. "I know you're planning to murder someone. I've heard plenty that'll interest the police tonight."
"But, you are unaware of the complete details of our little plan." The cold voice stated. "And, now that you are here, why not tell you, shall I?"
"That's just fine with me." Frank stated. With the information, he could report them to the authorities, and as little as he trusted them, he knew they'd have to act to stop them.
"You already know Barty, my most faithful servant, of course." The high, cold voice stated. "And I, I am Lord Voldemort."
"Lord, is it?" Frank asked.
"That's right, Muggle." Lord Voldemort stated. "And the boy whom I shall kill, who shall return me to a greater and more powerful form than ever before, is Harry Potter."
"And just what are you planning to do to kill him?" Frank asked.
"It's quite simple, really." Lord Voldemort replied. "You see, there are two plans that I have in place for Harry Potter's death, and the first, involves the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Really." Frank stated, feigning interest, though he had no clue what Lord Voldemort had just announced. A school for Witchcraft and Wizardry? It sounded almost magical. And then, Frank got an idea. An idea so wild that made perfect sense, that would explain how the Riddle family had been killed, why there had been no seeming cause of death. "You killed the Riddle's, didn't you? With some type of this magic?"
The high, cold voice laughed a cold laugh that sent shivers down Frank's spine, but knowing what he now knew, he felt a determination to act, to get all the information he could, and then return with the authorities. How to do it was the challenge, though.
"Very good, Muggle." Lord Voldemort responded. "If you'd been a Wizard of pure blood, you might have had a great potential for me. But, let us continue, shall we?"
"Let us." Frank stated, his voice confident. "This Triwizard Tournament. You're going to enter Harry Potter, are you?"
"Very good." Lord Voldemort replied. "But, you see, there is something about Harry Potter. Something that makes him far more powerful than any Wizard before him. For you see, he manifested his very own magic as a human girl, and shall likely detect the Goblet of Fire's attempt to bind his magic, to prevent him from doing anything but attending the tournament. In fact, with such powerful magic, I cannot be assured that he won't be able to break the binding on his magic and, thus, need not attend the tournament."
"So you have your second plan." Frank stated.
"Indeed so." Lord Voldemort responded. "Potter was a fool for not remaining with the Dursley's, where, if he had, I could not touch him or his girl. But, this new guardian of his, this Sharen Henderson. She doesn't fall under the same protection, and my faithful servant here, knows exactly where she works. It will be a trivial matter to take her hostage without her knowing what I shall do before it is done."
"So not only will you kill Harry Potter." Frank stated, his voice steady and much calmer, much braver than before. "But you'll potentially take his guardian captive to gain his cooperation. To make him come to you so you can rise more powerfully than before, as you said."
"Very good, Muggle. I'm quite impressed." Lord Voldemort said in response.
"And this woman?" Frank asked. "Who is she?"
"Why not ask her yourself." Lord Voldemort said.
Frank turned toward the woman, who's dead blue eyes stared at him with an intent focus.
"Who are you?" He asked bravely, feeling more confident that, perhaps, he'd have an ally. From the look of her, she'd been tormented, perhaps broken by these people. But it wouldn't take much to get her to help him. Frank knew how to be persuasive.
"I am a part of Lord Voldemort. A fragment, if you will." The woman said. Her voice might have been beautiful, but it was cold like Voldemort's was, and as she moved, her motions spoke of a killer's cold grace.
"You don't know what the Dementors kiss is, Muggle, so I shall give you a brief explanation." Lord Voldemort stated in his cold voice. "You see, a living body without a soul is the perfect receptacle to continue to ensure my immortality, and to also create a being more loyal, more devoted to me than any of my own followers could possibly be."
Frank thought furiously about what this Lord Voldemort had said, what the woman had stated. It was ludicrous, his idea, but no more stranger than anything else he'd seen so far, or thought of.
"So this woman had her soul removed with this, this Dementors kiss." Frank said. "And you put part of yourself in her, did you?"
Lord Voldemort laughed again, then said, "Quite right, Muggle, very, very good! The victim in question, very strong, quite powerfully magically despite being a Mudblood. I was quite surprised to learn of Stacey Toren's powers eighteen years ago. But, then, I couldn't allow her to continue resisting me. And so, she became one of my many victims. And now, serves to help sustain me. Quite fitting, wouldn't you say? Kill him, dear."
Frank turned as he heard the woman's voice speaking coldly, saying, "Avada Kedavra!" She had risen a stick, perhaps a tool these Wizards used to use their magical powers. Frank dove to the ground despite his hurting leg, spotting a green light that flew over him, but the woman was moving quickly. She was gripping the front of his shirt now, and as she pulled him up, Frank swung at her with his walking stick and impacted her face, though behind him, heard the same shout of Avada Kedavra, and this time, was unable to avoid the green light that impacted his back, killing him instantly. Lord Voldemort laughed, then announced coolly, "Go on, Nagini. Dinner." And as Voldemort's pet snake slithered over to the dead old man on the floor, Voldemort and Barty laughed, and the woman who was now one of Voldemort's Horcruxes continued to watch on with dead eyes, a cruel glint of fierce pleasure within them as she stepped clear of the large snake.