Heir Of Voldemort

Immediately after chapter 12

Notes: Well, here we have it. A new chapter. I was aiming for a cliff-hanger at the end of the last chapter - kind of like the very cheesy ones they have in soap operas, so dun-dun-dun! Guess where this chapter will start from! And yet again, I should be doing work for uni, but the ideas for this chapter and the ones surrounding it have just kept developing in wild ways that I can´t resist writing anymore!

The only reason I´ve gone do long without writing it is because I´ve a) been ill and barely had the energy to sit up (although it didn´t stop me writing really - considering the number of series I´m working on atm...oy...) and b) been away from my computer for nearly three days, leaving me with class work to catch up on, which is always fun. Not. (Note - next chapter may take about as long to come along - I have a presentation next week, so must research).

Again, though, thank your to all the people who have been stroking my ego in all the right places :) (Yes, it is as kinky as it sounds ;)) It really is a good feeling when you know people like what you do, even if it is evil and nasty...I would have replied to each of your reviews, but the answers i would give would probably spoil the chapter and I don´t wanna ruin my nice dramatic impact at the end by adding them, so maybe when this series is finished... (only 7 chapter after this one!)

And, lastly, disclaimer - IS NO MINE! I´m poor, so therefore, I cannot possibly own anything detailed in these stories, apart from the somewhat convoluted plot ideas & Kat, dear, please take you ship out of my head! They won´t leave me alone!

Now, onto the actual ficcy-ness :)

And, as usual, badness ensues.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come."

Torches on the grim walls flared to life as people filed into the black, stone room, footsteps shuffling and clattering on the dark floor as they moved forward in a seething mass.

The Death Eaters had returned to the lair and the small figure of Virginia Weasley was dangling from Voldemort´s cold hand, his fingers locked around her upper arm and holding her upright.

Snape watched from the front of the group.

She was clearly in shock.

Behind his mask, his lips thinned into a grim line. For her to be in shock was hardly surprising - she had been forced to torture and murder her own father, in front of her mother and brothers, at barely seventeen years of age.

Her cold, bare feet were stumbling on the floor and her eyes were blank as she was tossed in a tangled heap at the foot of the Dark Lord´s throne, Voldemort sweeping down to sit on the elaborate piece of furniture.

"Now, my dear Ginny," he murmured, stroking her long, red hair. "Tell me. Did you enjoy our little trip outside tonight?" Tear-filled brown eyes stared blankly up at him, the girl´s lips white. "Come now. Tell me how you feel."

"He..." her voice was dry, rasping, tears pooling beneath her dark-ringed eyes and rolling glassily down her cheeks, into the hollows beneath her cheekbones. Bowing her head, she started to sob softly.

Snape clenched his fists, wanting more then anything to spirit the poor child out.

Voldemort, however, merely smiled. "You are strangely quiet this evening," he noted dryly. "Perhaps you should speak to someone you trust..." He motioned Snape forwards. "After all, one you trust brought you here."

"Stop it..."

"But it is true, Ginny," Voldemort continued, smiling pleasantly. "You loved him, trusted him and what did he do? He arranged to have you brought to me. It is through him that you came to kill your own father."

"STOP IT!" the young witch screamed. "Stop it! Shut the hell up! I don´t care! I DON´T CARE!"

"Don´t speak to Lord Voldemort in such a way, Weasley," a snide voice said from the sidelines, easily recognisable as a Malfoy´s voice. The Potions Professor almost shook his head, tutting under his breath.

It certainly wasn´t a clever idea to tell a frightened, angry and betrayed witch what she should and shouldn´t do.

Sobbing with grief and rage, the girl´s eyes flashed fire, more energy than Snape had seen in her for the last two years. "Shut the hell up, Malfoy," she spat pithily.

"So the vixen has some spirit after all," Voldemort remarked, twisting his fist into her hair and jerking hard. Ginny yelped in pain, pulled up onto her knees. "Perhaps now that she is...a little angry...you. Step forward."

A Death Eater alongside Snape stepped forward and withdrew his mask.

Ginny´s face bleached instantly, as she saw what her mother and brothers had seen, and she sagged back down, uncaring of the long crops of hair she was leaving tangled in Voldemort´s hand.

"It...it couldn´t be you..." she whispered. "No... it can´t be..."

"Why on earth not, Ginny?" The young man pushed his hood back from his face and smiled down at her.

"Because..." She cringed against the side of the throne, Voldemort releasing his hold on her hair. "You...you´re not...not Percy..."

"I beg to differ," Still smiling, he reached up and straightened his glasses.

Snape´s teeth sank into his lower lip. He could see the girl was coiling herself down, like a spring about to explode outwards, her toes tensed against the stone floor, her eyes locked on the traitor´s face.

"Percy isn´t as stupid as you, you bastard!" She leapt at him too quick for Voldemort to grab her, even if he had tried to, her nails stretching out to gouge her traitorous brother´s face.

Avery´s arm caught her, mid-jump, and she was smashed down onto the floor, A cry of pain escaping her. Pushing forward, Snape grabbed her and hauled her free from Avery, his eyes flashing behind his mask.

"Let me go!" Ginny thrashed against him, lashing out with arms and legs. "I´m going to kill him!"

"You wish to kill another member of your family, dear Ginny? And here I was, believing that you actually cared for them," Voldemort´s silky voice immediately ceased her struggles and the girl went limp in Snape´s hold, sobs shaking her body.

"I didn´t want to..." she wept, her small fists beating futilely against Professor Snape´s chest. "I...I didn´t..."

Voldemort was clearly amused. "Take her to my chambers, Severus," he said, with a wave of his hand. "I shall see to her later."

Scooping the girl up, unresisting, Snape carried her feather-light body through the drapes of the throne room, taking her to the broad, luxurious bedchamber she shared with Lord Voldemort, placing her on the thick blankets.

Curling up in a foetal position on her side, she continued to sob bitterly, the violence of her cries making Snape physically flinch. One bony hand came out and hesitantly touched her shaking shoulder.

"I killed him..." she whimpered, her small hands gripping the blankets. "I killed my daddy...I hurt him...and killed him..."

"But you saved the rest of your family, child," The Professor squeezed her shoulder gently, tears stinging in his eyes for the pain that she was going through, wishing he had been the one to send the killing curse.

"I...I didn´t have to kill him...I didn´t...but I did...killed my daddy..." She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head. Her face slowly turned to him, her hands falling away, her brown eyes enormous and terrified. "They...they´ll send me to Azkaban..."

"No, child! Never!"

"B-but..."

Silencing her words with his fingertips, he shook his head. "Child, you did the best you could under such circumstances," Gently stroking her cheek, he sighed. "Had I been in your place, I would not have been nearly as brave as you have."

"I-I´m not brave," she whispered, more of those silent, tragic tears trickling down her gaunt face. "I´m not strong...or clever...or anything...I just do..." she sniffed hard, turning back onto her side. "I just do what I have to."

As exhaustion and despair caught up with her she sank into a dream-filled sleep, Snape sighed, his hand still lingering on her pale cheek. "You are brave, child, and strong, and so much more than you know."

***

"And where do you think you´re going at this time of the morning?"

Alexander whipped around at his mother´s voice, startled. "Mom!"

"Yes," She was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen wearing her dressing gown, her hands closed around a mug of coffee, her eyes fixed on him. "So, are you going to tell me?"

"Uh...school."

"This early?" She raised an eyebrow.

Alexander gave her his best, winning, "I´m a good boy" smile, but she could easily see that he was distracted by something and she didn´t have to guess what was on his mind. "Cause I wanna up my grades?"

"Alex, you´re lying. I´m your mother. I can tell."

"No fair, mom."

Cassandra smiled wearily, placing her steaming mug on the small table beside the kitchen door, crossing the floor towards him. "Alex," She stopped in front of him, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "You know I love you, don´t you?" He nodded. "I just don´t want to see you get hurt."

"I don´t, mom. Not much," Immediately, a closed expression crossed his face. "Why did you think I´d get hurt anyway?"

"This is a bad town, Alex," she murmured, her eyes fixed on his face, as if she were trying to see into his mind. "If it wasn´t for your father, you know I would take you away from here because it´s so dark...powerful. No one else seems to notice, but if I didn´t know better, I´d say good old Sunnydale was on the edge of hell."

Alexander´s face shifted through a series of expression. "What...what do you mean, mom?" he began, avoiding her eyes. "It´s just a regular SoCal town. Every town has its problems."

"I guess so, although we do seem to have a lot of gangs on PCP and a helluva lot of gas leaks for such a small town," She stood on her toes to muss his hair. "You just take care, okay?"

"I always do, mom," he smiled. "After all, I have to be a knight in shining armour for Buffy, Cordy and Willow," He paused for a moment, then added. "Oh, and Giles, even if he doesn´t like me."

"Giles?"

"Librarian guy - he´s English and Willow-smart, only smarter," Alexander pulled a face, as if intelligence was the worst crime possible. "He´s just like they are in the movies. You´d like him cause he´s all...smart about things."

"Sounds wonderful," Cassandra murmured. "And you hang out at the library?"

"Cordy, Willow and Buffy study there..." He made the feeble excuse she had been waiting for.

"And they´ll be there today?"

"Uh..."

"That´s a yes and yes, you want to go and watch them study, isn´t it?" Nodding towards the door, she chuckled as he swung his bag onto his shoulder, giving her his familiar, dopey grin that reminded her painfully of her brother.

"Love you, mom," He dropped a kiss on her cheek, before wandering out into the Californian morning.

"And he´s not the only one," a voice purred in Cassandra´s ear as she closed the door, invisible arms sliding around her waist.

"Ethan!" She hissed, swatting at him. Twisting in his arms, she yanked his hood down and was met by a long, lazy kiss. The invisibility cloak was rapidly discarded, along with her dressing gown and his clothing.

A short while later, Cassandra was half-seated on the couch, Ethan lazing on his back, beside her, with his head resting in her lap. Her fingers were stroking through his curly hair and he sighed.

"Luv, if I smoked, I think I´d need a whole packet after that."

"I missed you too, Ethan," She smiled down at him, her hand running down to rest on his chest. "But that doesn´t explain why you decided to show up first thing in the morning and shag me against the front door."

He closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. "Thought I´d bring a bit of cheer before delivering the bad news."

"Bad...news?"

"Very," He started to sit, then seemed to think the better of it, opening his eyes and looking straight up at her face. "Your boy has been getting tougher and stronger. Sev hasn´t been able to get in touch, but big news just broke...Arthur Weasley was killed two nights ago."

Cassandra´s already pale face went chalk-white. "No..."

"It gets worse than that, luv," Reaching up his chest to clasp her hand, he squeezed her fingers. "The one who held the wand that killed him...it was his daughter, Ginny. They made her choose - kill one or watch them all die. Arthur told her to do it."

Hot tears splashed down onto his upturned face and he tilted his head, pressing his cheek against her bare belly in a gesture of wordless comfort, his hand completely enfolding hers.

"I should have done something...stopped it all..." she whispered.

"How, Cass?" the wizard demanded, his tone sharp. "What could you possibly have done to stop him from rising? How could you have done it without getting yourself killed in the process?"

She didn´t reply, one shaking white hand rising to cover her face. Sitting up, Ethan gathered her in his arms and held her close, her body so much frailer and thinner than he remembered it being.

"Cass...luv, I´m sorry."

"I-I-I feel so bloody useless, Ethan," she whispered miserably, against his chest. "I want so much to help stop him and all I can do is sit here and watch while he kills and destroys families..."

"You´ve done one thing that no one else in this world could, Cass," he murmured, against her hot temple. "You took the one thing that could make this situation even worse, the son and heir of the Dark Lord, and made him into a young man, who would rather fight against someone like Voldemort, than fight with him."

"But will it be enough?" she asked softly, spreading her hand over his heart. "What would stop him getting another Heir?"

"Lack of willing female company?" Ethan suggested, nuzzling her thick hair.

"In case you forgot, that was me, seventeen years ago..." She pressed closer to him, shivering. "You don´t have to be willing. All you have to be is female and believe that whatever he says won´t be manipulated so he can lie about everything."

"Let´s just hope that he doesn´t find someone like that, then."

Nodding, Cassandra replied, "We can hope..."

***

"What do you want?"

Standing at the end of the bed, Percy folded his hands behind his back as he studied his young sister by the light of half a dozen torches on the walls. She was crouched in the middle of the four-poster bed, glaring at him as if he were worth less than the dirt on the floor.

Her thin body was clad in the sheerest of nightshirts which did very little to conceal her body. Her long hair was brushed, no doubt by magic, but her face was twisted in hate and disgust.

"Is it so hard to believe that I want to talk to my baby sister?"

"I´m no sister of yours," she spat at him, scrambling towards the edge of the bed, hatred and anger vying for dominance in her dark brown eyes. "You´re not my brother. My brother would never side with Voldemort."

"Now, now, Ginny..."

Swinging out of the bed, the stone floor icy against her feet, she glared at him across the expanse of the mattress, as she started to make her way around the bed. "Don´t you `Now now´ me, you bastard," she hissed. "Because of you, daddy is dead."

"Pardon my slip in memory, but who was it that performed the killing curse?"

Ginny flinched at his words, but still moved purposefully towards him. "If you had left me at the school, none of this would have happened!" her voice was low, angry, her hands clenched into tight knots at her sides. "What happened?"

"When, Ginny? When you became my lord´s whore?"

"When you became a fucking idiot, Percy," she spat.

He took a step towards her, his hand rising as if to strike her. Bracing herself for a blow, he eyes shut, Ginny shuddered when Percy´s hand caught her chin. "I´m not an idiot, little sister," he whispered. "I just listened and he made sense."

"Sense?" She stared at him in disbelief. "He kills people for entertainment and you say he makes sense?" Laughing in disbelief, she shook her head. "You´re crazier than I thought!"

Percy shoved her away, the girl colliding with the bedpost, wincing. "Laugh at me, then, Ginny," he snarled savagely, anger flaring in his eyes. "Laugh like everyone always did." Making a sweeping gesture with his hand, Percy started pacing in front of her. "Look, there´s Percy Weasley. So clever, working oh so hard, but does he get anywhere? No! What´s he good for? Pointing at and laughing at! He can´t do anything right, can he? His boss got himself killed and Perce didn´t notice, oh ha ha! What a jolly good worker!"

"That´s why you listened to him?" Ginny said, her voice shaking. "Because everyone treated you like an idiot for trying too hard, you went out to prove a point by becoming a bloody Death Eater?"

"Shut up, Ginny!" his voice rose to a furious shout, and he whipped around to bear down on her. "You don´t know what it was like!"

"I know exactly what it was like, you prick!" She moved towards him, smacking her fists against his chest. "I´m the stupid little girl who was possessed by Riddle in first year, when I was just trying to fit in. I was the whimpering little sister who could never get anything right. I was the filthy slut who shared Voldemort´s bed for four months because I was too stupid to realise that he was really Voldemort!" She smacked his chest again, her eyes flashing. "I ended up as his whore again and anyone in a mask will remind me of it! I know more about being taunted and picked on than you ever could!"

"You have no idea," he hissed, grabbing her upper arms and forcing her back against the bedpost, his grip bruising her skin. "He gave me the chance to become something, to become someone and this time, no one will laugh at me!"

"Oh yeah?" Ginny´s lips rose in a manic grin. "Ha!" Percy snarled, shaking her, but that only seemed to make her worse. She started to laugh in earnest. "You think," she panted, hysterical. "That this makes you any less of an arsehole?"

"Stop it!" He shook her again, harder.

"Can´t stop..." She was doubled over, laughing uncontrollably, her eyes maliciously fixed on her brother´s paling face, which was contorted in a combination of rage, humiliation and shame.

"STOP IT, YOU BITCH!" He slammed her hard against the post of the bed, jolting all of the air out of her, but the vehemence in his voice only made her wild, ringing, hysterical laughter worse.

Tears of sardonic mirth rolled down her pale face, her chest heaving with the force of her laughter.

"I said stop it!" Driving his fist savagely into her belly, Percy´s blow lifted her off her feet, hard against the bedpost and he stepped back, panting as she dropped like a stone, landing heavily on the floor, vomit spraying from her lips.

Gasping for breath, her nightshirt soaked with digestive fluids and sticking to her body, the sour smell permeating the whole room, Ginny doubled over, drawing a sharp breath, her eyes going wide.

Raising her tear-filmed eyes to the glowering Percy, she released a shrill, demented laugh, laced with pain. "Oh, boy, Perce," she panted, her eyes drifting in and out of focus. "You´re in big trouble now."

She looked down at her legs that were bared to mid-thigh, directing his attention to them and to the deep red stain spreading and soaking through the transparent fabric of her clothing that was wadded between her thighs.

Another hysterical giggle sounded from her. "Hell...big big trouble..." She was starting to shake violently, but still managed to smile at him. "Y-you might wanna... get your boss...about now..."

Backing away, Percy was staring at the blood, which was starting to pool around Ginny´s body. "Oh shit..." he whispered, shaking his head, the angry red in his face fading to grey-green.

"I´ll say," Ginny slumped back against the bedpost, her eyes rolling up as her brother fled through the dark curtains and into the main area of the throne room.

***

"Mum?"

Sitting silently on the couch, staring at the spot the carpet where her husband had died, Molly didn´t acknowledge the voice of her youngest son, her hands still holding one of Arthur´s old robes, his scent lingering on it.

Her fingers stroked the worn material, occasionally lifting it to her face, to press against her cheek, letting her inhale his safe, familiar smell. Tears slid down her face, but still, she stared at the carpet.

Ron stood in the door between the living room and kitchen, having just arrived from the school.

Like every other member of the family, his eyes were red-rimmed, his face blotched from tears that had fallen, his clothes rumpled and several days old, but he didn´t care how he looked.

"How long has she been like that?" he asked Charlie, who was sitting at the kitchen table, staring sightlessly at a cold cup of tea that was gripped between his burned, callused hands, several empty cups sitting on the tabletop nearby.

Shaking himself, Charlie looked up. "Mum? Since it happened."

Ron lowered his eyes. Part of him wanted to be the one to console his mother, but the other half was - like Bill was - screaming for vengeance on the ones who had done this to his family. "Was it him?"

"Who?"

"You-Know-Who. Did he...was it him that...you know...?"

Charlie´s face contorted in shock. "They...they didn´t tell you?"

"They didn´t tell me what?" Turning to the table, Ron immediately sat down, facing Charlie, who shifted uncomfortably. "Don´t tell me it´s not your place, Charlie. What happened here?"

"You-Know-Who...he brought Ginny with him," Charlie´s voice sounded like he was forcing it out of a tightly clenched throat. "He made her...dad told her to do him, to save the rest of us."

"He...he made Ginny...?" Charlie nodded, staring down at his cup of tea. "Fucking hell!" The empty cups were swept off the table, shattering on the floor and against the cupboards, as Ron surged to his feet, his face scarlet with rage.

"Ron, don´t!" Charlie rose, holding out a placating hand. "It won´t help."

"But he made Ginny do that! Our bloody sister!"

His brother nodded, sitting back down. He looked exhausted, his face unshaven, his eyes shadowed. "I know, Ron. We were there. Saw it. But anger won´t help. Not now... we have to look after mum."

Slamming his fists against the wall, Ron pressed his forehead against his upraised forearms. "Just when I thought things couldn´t get any worse..." he mumbled, voice muffled by his maroon jumper.

"So has he told you about Perce, yet?" a gruff voice snapped, both of them looking towards the hearth, where Bill had tumbled out onto his feet. Straightening up, he dusted down his full-length, dragon-hide jacket.

Ron glanced at Charlie, who was looking a little green. "What about Perce?"

"Bill..." Charlie cautioned. "He doesn´t need to know this..."

"The hell I don´t! What about Percy? Is he alive? Is he okay?"

"Oh, yeah. He´s alive all right. Just batting for the other side," Bill answered for his younger brother. "Yeah, he became a Death Eater, took Ginny to You-Know-Who and arranged for You-Know-Who to come here and bump off dad. Nothing to worry about really."

"You´re kidding..."

Bill´s grim face met Ron´s statement. "Do I look like I´m fucking joking, Ron?"

"But Perce...he´s a good guy...he does what he´s told...works hard..." Ron shook his head, making his way back to the chair on wavering legs and sinking down. "He...why would he change sides?"

"Who knows?" Bill growled, as he pulled his jacket back and started withdrawing several muggle weapons from belts and pockets. "But if that son of a bitch comes near me, brother or not, I´m going to kill him for what he did to Ginny and dad."

Ron looked from Charlie´s anxious face to Bill´s dangerous one. "What happened to Ginny?" he asked urgently. "Where is she now?" His brothers exchanged looks and Ron closed his eyes.

"I´m going to get her back," Bill said quietly, studying a muggle revolver. His voice was twisted with anger. "No one hurts my baby sister like that."

"Bill, please, be reasonable," Charlie said, grasping his elder brother´s wrist. "You don´t even know if she´s still alive. Don´t go and get yourself killed...I think it might kill mum if you did..."

Bill looked down at Charlie´s hand on his wrist, then met Charlie´s calming gaze. "I have to get her back, Charlie," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "As long as she´s alive, I have to try and get her out of there."

***

"Dead."

"Pardon?"

The statement was repeated. "She is dead."

Voldemort´s hands clenched around the end of his throne. "The cause?"

"A massive internal haemorrhage due to an aborted pregnancy, which was caused by a blow to the stomach," Snape reported, his voice shaking slightly as he spoke, his eyes full of torment, his face pale and gaunt.

"Pregnancy?"

Snape nodded. "Yes, Master. She was expecting a child."

"My child," It wasn´t a question. It was an ice-coated statement. His slit-like nostrils dilated, his eyes reduced to slashes of scarlet, his mouth tightening into a thin line. "And who was the one to deliver the blow?"

"Weasley, sir. She angered him and he struck her."

Voldemort´s hairless brows rose slightly. "Ironic," he stated softly, his eyes focused on nothing. "His first capture brings me his youngest sister and his first killing is that same person," A long-fingered hand stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I´m afraid that the boy will have to be punished for this."

"Yes, Master."

Scarlet eyes moved to Snape. "There was nothing that could be done?"

"By the time I was called, she had lost too much blood, Master. I-I tried to substitute it with a sanguine potion so I could treat the injuries, but she was too weak," The distress that Voldemort recognised in the Professor´s voice sounded genuine and the Dark Lord was certain that Snape was on the verge of tears behind his mask. "She died just after I reached to her."

Intriguing.

Snape truly had cared for the strange, oddly-attractive little girl who had blossomed so much under adversity.

Voldemort sighed.

He had hoped that the hate she felt for him could be redirected towards her brother, then be moulded and shaped, so she could have become a willing tool for his side: a fiery vixen, something in her that had only shown itself on a few occasions.

Alas, it was too late now.

"Dispose of the girl´s body," he said quietly, leaning back against the high back of the throne, his eyes closing. "Do not damage her further. I believe she has earned that little respect."

Bowing, Snape lowered his head and departed from the throne room.

***

"Where did the little prick go?"

Crabbe shrugged. "Haven´t seen `im."

"´E ran off after `e `it `is sister," Goyle added, Malfoy throwing his head back with a sigh of frustration. one day, he said to himself, he would get some help who had more than one brain cell between them.

"All right, you take this side of the ground, I´ll go this way. Draco, you with me."

Crabbe and Goyle lumbered off, leaving Lucius and Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of the grassy lawn, looking around the expansive grounds. "You do realise he could have apparated out, don´t you, father?"

"He won´t have." Lucius Malfoy said, his voice calm. "He was under the imperio curse, which bound him to these grounds. I doubt he has the nerve to break an imperio cast by Voldemort himself."

Draco glanced sidelong at his father. "I thought he was one of us."

"As you, all the death Eaters, and his family were meant to believe, Draco," Malfoy smirked. "It appears that the deception was adequate, doesn´t it? His family believed he betrayed them all. The Weasleys have been broken. Now, he´s no longer useful, so our Master will kill him."

"He has been under the imperio since he was captured?"

"Before that," The smile on Malfoy´s lips was chilling. "He was brought before our Master through the bi-apparation spell months ago, in secret, just after Dumbledore was destroyed. No one but our Master and I knew."

Together they started across the grounds, the son still apparently considering what he had just been told. "Father, was Weasley acting under our Master´s commands when he brought his sister to him?"

"Do you think he would have brought her otherwise?"

Draco shook his head. "It...I should have realised it."

"It was a very covert use of imperio," Malfoy said airily. "It was made to look as if the fool had been won over to our Master´s ethics. His mind is so simple that it was barely a challenge for our Master to control him."

"Simple?"

"He had two things he focused on - family and work, but centrally work," Malfoy continued. "Most people have many things to distract them, but this Weasley´s mind... he only had the most basic of concerns."

Draco nodded, his eyes scanning around the gardens ahead of them. His eyes screwed up and he pointed. "Father, what do you think that is?"

Ahead of them, something was dangling from one of the ancient oak trees.

"Good grief," Malfoy groaned. "He better not have damaged the tree."

They approached the trees, Draco uttering a gasp.

The younger of the two staring up in shock at the body of Percy Weasley, swinging from side-to-side in the light wind, his torn robes twisted into a makeshift noose which had been looped around his neck and bound to the thick branch of the ancient oak tree.

"Suicide," Lucius remarked dryly. "Well, this is certainly different." Circling the swinging corpse, he withdrew a folded scrap of parchment, which was sticking out of the pocket of Percy´s trousers. "It seems," he remarked, reading the brief note. "That Mr. Weasley did break the imperio curse, after all. He didn´t want to give our Master the satisfaction of using him further."

"Won´t he be just as happy that he´s dead anyway?"

"That, Draco, is the amusing irony."

***

Back in the depths of his fortress, Voldemort seemed oblivious to the presence of all of his Death Eaters, his hands tightening around the arms of his throne, his slit-like nostrils dilating.

His breathing was rapid and agitated, shudders passing through his body. His thin lips parted at regular intervals to release sharp gasps, his scarlet eyes rolling upwards, his eyelids fluttering.

Looks were being passed among the Death Eaters, consternation and confusion.

Was their Lord´s odd behaviour a good or a bad sign?

It seemed an eternity before he relaxed and a slow smile spread across his features, his eyes reduced to narrow crimson slits. His lips parted, his voice more rasping than it usually was.

"It is almost time," he breathed.

Those four simple words hung in the air.

Bemused looks were exchanged. It went without saying that the Death Eaters weren´t exactly playing with a full deck.

Malfoy, seen as the leader of the Death Eaters, stepped forward cautiously, having just returned from searching the grounds for the missing Weasley. "Almost time for what, my Lord?"

Voldemort´s smile was chilling and he looked almost like he was intoxicated on some level. "For the end of all things weak and unworthy," he answered blissfully. A sigh slithered past his lips. "When he opens the portal..." A near-orgasmic groan escaped the Dark Lord. "Yessssss...soon...very sssssoon."

Malfoy´s posture suggested he wanted to ask more, to know what on earth was going on, but - wisely - he stepped back into the circle, shrugging helplessly at his fellow Death Eaters, as Voldemort´s head rolled back, a maniacal smile still on his lips.

"Tell me, Lucius, did you find Weasley?"

"Yes, my Lord," He went down on one knee and handed Voldemort the piece of parchment. "He hung himself out in the glades." Voldemort smirked slightly, his hand crushing the piece of parchment.

"How very noble of him," he remarked. "And Snape is taking care of the girl´s body. It appears that all my little problems are clearing themselves up, in preparation for my ascension."

"Ascension?"

"We will move out in a matter of minutes, Lucius," the Dark Lord murmured. "It is time for war."

***

"A-Alex?"

On his way out the front door, Alexander turned to his mother, his expression stony, his arm held up against his chest defensively, the other holding his rucksack on his shoulder. "I have to go out, mom," he said, his eyes red-rimmed.

"What happened?" She asked shakily, her eyes on his arm, which was in a cast.

Alexander looked down at the arm, then back at his mother´s face. "A gang broke into the school when we were studying there last night," he explained grimly, his voice hoarse with tears.

"Is...are all your friends all right?"

Alexander shook his head, the grief radiating from him palpable. "Buffy´s friend... she died. Giles got taken by them..." Cassandra´s hand rose to her mouth. "And Willow...she got hurt real bad. Some of the stacks fell on her..." Tears blurred in his eyes. "She-she might not make it."

"Oh God...Alex..."

He lowered his head to hide the tears on his cheeks. "I-I need to go."

"Was it more of Buffy´s ex-boyfriend´s friends?" Cassandra asked unsteadily, halting his progress towards the door.

Her son nodded, his expression turning to one of malevolence. "Why´d he have to come along and ruin everything?" he demanded savagely. "She would have been fine if it wasn´t for him!"

"Sometimes things just happen that way." Cassandra murmured, hugging herself.

"I-I need to go and help Buffy, mom. She´s not doing so great..."

The witch nodded. "I know how she feels," she said quietly. "Alex?" He looked at her expectantly. "Take care of her. Do what you can." Unable to reply, Alexander merely nodded and turned and walked out the front door.

***

THE BOY WHO LIVED IS DEAD

- Reported by Wanda Wava

Rumours abound today in the wizarding world with the second fall of You-Know-Who in twenty years.

The Dark Wizard - he who must not be name (71) - lead an army of Death Eaters, his bizarrely-named collective of minions, many of whom have a knack of remaining anonymous, in an epic battle, in which many wizards and witches were killed.

The death toll is still rising by the hour (for regular updates on this and other news, tune into the WWN), many falling on both sides. Muggle casualties and fatalities are also expected.

While it is unclear what exactly it was that came to pass, it is a known fact that You-Know-Who was reduced to a shell of his former self, due to a dramatic sacrifice from the Boy Who Lived and was contained by several Aurors.

Harry Potter (18) gave his own life to save the lives of friends Ronald Weasley (18), youngest son of the late Arthur Weasley, and Hermione Granger (18), both classmates from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft And Wizardry.

His death, it is rumoured, served the same purpose as his mother´s, when he earned his title as `The-Boy-Who-Lived´ in his infancy. While these rumours are denied by some sources, several witnesses state that when You-Know-Who turned his wand on the friends of the boy who lived, the curse failed.

Eye-witness Sirius Black (39), formerly believed to be a Death Eater and the only escapee in Azkaban´s History, but cleared by his activity in the battle, states "Harry knew what he was doing. He told V******** to kill him, instead of Ron and Hermione... he was a damn good kid. He didn´t deserve it. His parents would have been proud of him."

While Granger and Weasley both refused to give statements, it is clear that they are both in shock over the death of their school friend. Mr. Weasley has been forced to deal with this fatal blow, following a succession of family tragedies, including the deaths of both father and a brother, Percival (22). A sister, Virginia Weasley (17), is still unaccounted for.

Meanwhile, the Ministry is in a furore about what must be done. Remus Lupin, a known werewolf and former Professor of Hogwarts, believes that Voldemort must be left alive, but imprisoned to pay for his crimes. However, many Aurors believe it is their duty to destroy him, after all he has done.

Unfortunately, he has proved to be a rather difficult enemy to defeat in the past.

What will happen to You-Know-Who and his surviving followers is undecided as yet. However, with the reinstatement of the Dementors at Azkaban, it is believed that the Prison will once again serve as a holding ground for Death Eaters and possibly even You-Know-Who himself.

For now though the wizarding world, while mourning it´s losses, is celebrating the downfall of the most powerful Dark Lord that has ever lived and we hope that - this time - he will stay down.