It was cold, but not cold enough to snow. Frost covered the unkempt garden and made the windows misty. Weeds forced their ways through the already weedy garden and ivy snaked its way up the wall and found its way inside the house from the broken windows. This now meant that some of the rooms were covered from head to toe in a dark, inviting, emerald green ivy. If any human had walked inside the house (which they no longer did), they would have said it felt dead. Which it was. The house no longer settled, the floor boards no longer creaked and the taps no longer ran and the electricity had been cut off years and years ago. There weren’t even any cockroaches or any other vermin who wanted to infest the house.
The moon had just come up, casting an eerie glow on the vines, and the scant furniture around the house. A small man entered the house. He was the second person there, but the only human. He shivered. It was not the cold that chilled his bones, but the feeling of foreboding dread. Gripping the banister so hard, as if his life depended on it, the small man walked up the stairs, small pools of dust swirling at his feet as they came in contact with the rotting wood. As he put his foot down on one step, it collapsed with no warning. His foot slid inside all the way up to his thigh and left a deep gash in his leg. He gripped the beginning of the stair above and silent tears poured down his face. It wasn’t the pain of the cut that made him cry, nor the sudden shock of the fall. Rather the fact that he took this as an omen. Something bad was going to happen.
No. He thought. I’m not going to die. I’m too young to die.
His foot was just a few meters away from the floor of the cupboard under the stairs. He hoisted himself up and wiped the dust from his hands on his coat. He glanced only momentarily at the deep gash in his legs. Blood seeped through his trousers and he could feel the warmth of it running down his leg. The journey up the stairs seemed to take hours, and the steps seemed endless, but in reality it took mere seconds, and there were only about twenty odd steps.
He got to the top of the stairs, walked up the corridor, and pushed open the second door on the left. The feeling of dread increased. Inside the room, there was a crackling fire burning in the marble fireplace, which did nothing to stem the cold in the house. A cloaked and hooded figure sat in an ivy covered armchair, facing the fire, his back turned to the man. Before he could speak, or even draw a breath, the figure spoke.
“You’re late.” His voice was void of all emotion.
“ I-I’m sorry, my Lord. There-there was a de-delay. A major acid-accident.”
“ Liar,” said the figure. “ You were drinking again. I can smell it. Do not lie to me you pathetic wizard.”
“ I-I’m sorry, my Lord.”
“Pah,” the figure snorted. “Apologies. How many of them I’ve heard, Isiah. If I had a witch for everytime…” He chuckled.
Isiah looked down at the floor, not knowing where else to direct his vision. He focused it on the small pool of blood collecting at his foot, from his cut, and running down the grooves in the wood. It was sick, but he thought that the form the thick ruby red liquid took resembled a sort of lopsided rat. Then a thought came to him.
“My-my Lord?” he asked, and he took the silence in the room to be a cue to carry on. “Are you sure its safe for us to be in this house? After what happened last time, I mean with that muggle over hearing your conversation?”
“Are you questioning my planning?”
“No my Lord.” Isiah shifted uncomfortably on the spot. He didn’t like being accused, and the pain on the cut was finally striking him.
“I thought not,” said the figure. “Now,” he started, but a loud hissing interrupted his speech. A large, green snake, maybe twelve feet long entered the room, hissing. A strong gust of wind blew through the room, making the ivy ‘shiver’, and the snake hiss louder.
“Nagini.” The figure cooed at the snake, his voice filled with love. His eyes diluted, the sort of look that was usually reserved for new born babies and puppy dogs.
However, Nagini didn’t seem intent on visiting her master. She slithered over to Isiah instead, and circled his cut leg, occasionally sticking out her forked tongue to smell the air.
Isiah trembled. He didn’t like snakes, but he didn’t dare voice his complain to his Lord. Before long, though, Nagini slithered out the room again, probably to continue her unfruitful search for prey.
The figure sighed, sadly. “Very well,” he said. “As you know, the boy we need, is at- Hogwarts.” He spat out the name as if it were something vile. “and of course you cannot go there. You are too old. So I will send someone else, someone young. I was going to ask you to inform him for me, but now I see I cannot trust you.”
Isiah had the grace to look ashamed.
“You are dismissed. I will find someone else,” said the figure. Isiah’s eyes widened. Was that all? Bowing madly, and stammering thank-you’s, Isiah ran out the room. He was unbelievably glad! All his Lord wanted was to inform him of his plans! No hexes, no curses, no cruciatus! He was overjoyed. This called for another round at Hogsmeade!
He ran towards the steps, eager to get out of the house, but he stumbled over Nagini, who had camouflaged herself in the ivy near the top of the stairs. Too scared to scream, he tumbled forward, his body hitting every step on the way down. By the time he got to the bottom, he was already dead.
In his chair, the Dark Lord chuckled.
The moon had just come up, casting an eerie glow on the vines, and the scant furniture around the house. A small man entered the house. He was the second person there, but the only human. He shivered. It was not the cold that chilled his bones, but the feeling of foreboding dread. Gripping the banister so hard, as if his life depended on it, the small man walked up the stairs, small pools of dust swirling at his feet as they came in contact with the rotting wood. As he put his foot down on one step, it collapsed with no warning. His foot slid inside all the way up to his thigh and left a deep gash in his leg. He gripped the beginning of the stair above and silent tears poured down his face. It wasn’t the pain of the cut that made him cry, nor the sudden shock of the fall. Rather the fact that he took this as an omen. Something bad was going to happen.
No. He thought. I’m not going to die. I’m too young to die.
His foot was just a few meters away from the floor of the cupboard under the stairs. He hoisted himself up and wiped the dust from his hands on his coat. He glanced only momentarily at the deep gash in his legs. Blood seeped through his trousers and he could feel the warmth of it running down his leg. The journey up the stairs seemed to take hours, and the steps seemed endless, but in reality it took mere seconds, and there were only about twenty odd steps.
He got to the top of the stairs, walked up the corridor, and pushed open the second door on the left. The feeling of dread increased. Inside the room, there was a crackling fire burning in the marble fireplace, which did nothing to stem the cold in the house. A cloaked and hooded figure sat in an ivy covered armchair, facing the fire, his back turned to the man. Before he could speak, or even draw a breath, the figure spoke.
“You’re late.” His voice was void of all emotion.
“ I-I’m sorry, my Lord. There-there was a de-delay. A major acid-accident.”
“ Liar,” said the figure. “ You were drinking again. I can smell it. Do not lie to me you pathetic wizard.”
“ I-I’m sorry, my Lord.”
“Pah,” the figure snorted. “Apologies. How many of them I’ve heard, Isiah. If I had a witch for everytime…” He chuckled.
Isiah looked down at the floor, not knowing where else to direct his vision. He focused it on the small pool of blood collecting at his foot, from his cut, and running down the grooves in the wood. It was sick, but he thought that the form the thick ruby red liquid took resembled a sort of lopsided rat. Then a thought came to him.
“My-my Lord?” he asked, and he took the silence in the room to be a cue to carry on. “Are you sure its safe for us to be in this house? After what happened last time, I mean with that muggle over hearing your conversation?”
“Are you questioning my planning?”
“No my Lord.” Isiah shifted uncomfortably on the spot. He didn’t like being accused, and the pain on the cut was finally striking him.
“I thought not,” said the figure. “Now,” he started, but a loud hissing interrupted his speech. A large, green snake, maybe twelve feet long entered the room, hissing. A strong gust of wind blew through the room, making the ivy ‘shiver’, and the snake hiss louder.
“Nagini.” The figure cooed at the snake, his voice filled with love. His eyes diluted, the sort of look that was usually reserved for new born babies and puppy dogs.
However, Nagini didn’t seem intent on visiting her master. She slithered over to Isiah instead, and circled his cut leg, occasionally sticking out her forked tongue to smell the air.
Isiah trembled. He didn’t like snakes, but he didn’t dare voice his complain to his Lord. Before long, though, Nagini slithered out the room again, probably to continue her unfruitful search for prey.
The figure sighed, sadly. “Very well,” he said. “As you know, the boy we need, is at- Hogwarts.” He spat out the name as if it were something vile. “and of course you cannot go there. You are too old. So I will send someone else, someone young. I was going to ask you to inform him for me, but now I see I cannot trust you.”
Isiah had the grace to look ashamed.
“You are dismissed. I will find someone else,” said the figure. Isiah’s eyes widened. Was that all? Bowing madly, and stammering thank-you’s, Isiah ran out the room. He was unbelievably glad! All his Lord wanted was to inform him of his plans! No hexes, no curses, no cruciatus! He was overjoyed. This called for another round at Hogsmeade!
He ran towards the steps, eager to get out of the house, but he stumbled over Nagini, who had camouflaged herself in the ivy near the top of the stairs. Too scared to scream, he tumbled forward, his body hitting every step on the way down. By the time he got to the bottom, he was already dead.
In his chair, the Dark Lord chuckled.
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