Missing in Action

Missing in Action

Prologue: 'A Master Plan'

Sometime in June, the summer before The Trio's sixth year and Ginny's fifth, in Voldemort's holiday villa, situated on the picturesque bay of the river Shannon...

"Master, the plan is in place. Ginny Weasley will be fetching Harry Potter from Privet Drive tomorrow at approximately eleven in the morning. They have chosen to travel by Floo Powder, therefore making our task much easier. Instead of bringing them back to the Weasley home, I have contaminated their Floo Powder so that it will take them directly here... to their deaths."

"Excellent execution, Wormtail. But we must not rest on our laurels and hope for the best. We must take precautions. Make sure that they do not know where they are going... and ensure that they cannot be located. By ANYONE," Voldemort glowered at the cowering Wormtail.

"Master..." Pettigrew began.

"What?" Voldemort snapped impatiently.

"Why are we aiming to murder both Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, again?" Pettigrew asked timidly.

Voldemort heaved a sigh of frustration, "Honestly, must I be cursed with such a stupid servant?" he asked the heavens, "I have told you time and time again, we must capture Potter because of how he has managed to thwart me all those times, and Miss Weasley because she overthrew my diary. I WANT HARRY POTTER AND VIRGINIA WEASLEY DEAD!" he thundered.

"Y-Yes, Master. But Ginny did nothing wrong," protested Wormtail.

"She still exists today! That is reason enough for me to order her murder! DO NOT QUESTION ME!"

"No, my Lord. Never, my Lord," Wormtail stuttered, struggling to breathe.

"You swore allegiance to me, Wormtail, and if I find that you have betrayed me, in any way, I shall exact a fitting fate for you."

Wormtail threw himself at his master's feet, Voldemort's cold gaze upon him, a cruel smile forming on his pale face.

"Get up, worthless servant," he spat at Pettigrew. Peter jumped as if he'd been burned.

"Master... forgive me. I speak out of turn."

"Indeed a habit you must break, servant," Voldemort purred. He lifted his wand and pressed directly between Wormtail's eyes. "Who do you belong to?"

"I belong to you, my Lord. I serve you willingly with a steady hand," Peter said, although to his own ears his voice sounded almost mechanical.

"Your oath has been broken too many times for me to deign unto believing you," the Dark Lord hissed, "Servant."

"Um, my Lord? I know I should be honoured to have you call me your servant... but I've been your servant for so long I reckon you should know my name by now." He drew himself up to his giant-like height of three feet twelve inches and stared straight into his Lord's eyes. Voldemort stared straight back, his gaze cold and unrelenting.

Then he seemed to completely forget about Peter. He snapped his fingers, bidding a house-elf to him. "Norma, could we have a large, stiff brandy here, please?" The elf lowered her eyes respectively and said, "Yes, sir. Right away, sir. Is I excused?"

"Yes, yes, go," replied Voldemort, waving her away. The little elf scampered off.

"See how she does not talk back?" Voldemort snapped at Peter. She would be a perfect servant... if only she had a brain. And you are in the debt of Harry Potter! What do I need with a servant in debt of Harry Potter?"

"For the last time, Riddle, MY NAME IS PETER!" Wormtail snapped, "Not servant, not worthless... it's Peter! Would you mind calling me that, please?"

Voldemort looked incensed and instantly Pettigrew knew he'd gone too far. "What did you say to me?" he hissed.

Norma the elf returned, struggling under the weight of a very large brandy on a tray. The beverage was wobbling dangerously, but somehow Norma kept it on the tray. Without magic. She offered the tray to Voldemort, who had collapsed in the armchair across from Pettigrew. He looked like a very tired Muggle businessman, who'd just got home from work and was stuffed.

He lifted the brandy with a shaking hand and Peter knew he was only barely holding onto his resolve not to chuck it across the table and hit Peter on the full.

"If you want salvation," Voldemort said in a friendly, conversational tone, no doubt a result of the brandy, "you will bring Harry Potter and Virginia Weasley to this domain... and you will give me the pleasure of torturing them. You have failed me before, Wormtail... and you are treading on extremely thin ice. Do not fail me," he finished, and his voice had changed from sweet to sinister.

"We will begin right here in the United Kingdom. From here... Ireland, Scotland, Wales... France and the Low Countries... Scandinavia... Eastern Europe... everywhere. And so fast, no-one shall find them. They won't be able to keep up with us!"

"And when we reach our final destination... what is our final destination, my Lord?"

"We finish our trip- and their lives- at Hogwarts, in the Chamber of Secrets. And Virginia Weasley and Harry Potter will re-open it and finally complete Slytherin's noble task by killing all the Mudbloods at Hogwarts."

"Killing all the Mudbloods? Won't Slytherin be pleased with you, even if he is dead!"

"Slytherin is not dead, you useless creature. He is alive... he lives in me."

"That is a scary yet beautiful thought. Have you ever considered taking a break, Master? Surely your power is such that you are able to take a holiday?"

"If you are fishing for a free ride to Queensland, you must forget it. I am not going to holiday for awhile yet... not until Operation: Basilisks is complete. Now help me dust, useless servant, we must prepare for Harry and Virginia's arrival tomorrow... that is, of course, if you have done the job correctly, Wormtail."

"What have you planned for the girl, Master?"

"She will attend the Death Eaters' Ball in Amsterdam with a dear friend of mine... he is quite famous. She will enjoy this mission, I am sure of it."

"I have heard she is extremely pretty. Well, at least she's prettied up since that Chamber of Secrets fiasco."

"She is. From what little I have seen of the girl now, she has curly red hair, she's tall and slim. She will make a fine partner for our other friend for the ball."

"Sounds perfect."

"She isn't for you, Wormtail."

"Did I say she was?" Wormtail snapped.

"Beg your pardon?" Voldemort said warningly.

"I mean to say, she'll make a fine addition to our side. She's quite a temptress!"

"That's better."

"May I leave now?"

"Finish dusting that chair, and you may retire to your room."

"Thank you, Master."

"Tomorrow, Wormtail, we begin. Tomorrow. So get some sleep, you're going to need it."

Wormtail shot through the corridors to his bedroom, a dingy, cheerless cell, turned down the lone blanket, and climbed into bed, but not before he kissed his poster of his favourite Muggle singer, Britney Spears.

The last thing Wormtail was aware of before he drifted into a deep sleep was Voldemort laughing softly. He dreamed the kind of dreams that normal people wake up in a cold sweat, and shaking, from. But Wormtail thrived on evil. So he entertained the possibility of a free ride to Queensland. In his dream, he was surrounded by dozens of bikini-clad girls all wanting a piece of him... him. Not Voldemort.

A smarter choice, overall.

He smiled and clutched his wand protectively, hardly able to wait before morning....