A Simple Conversation

 
 

"What's going on now?"

"Huh?"

"All the people heading down to the Quidditch pitch. See?"

"Is there a game?"

"No....if there was, I would be there."

"True, true."

"Then what the hell is going on."

"Must be a duel."

"Are they mad?"

"Oh, probably. Most likely it's just some idiot Gryffindor first-year who got an older student hacked off."

"Very eloquent, Riddle."

"Of course, Warren."

"Shut up you two."

"You to, Potter."

"All three of you."

"Why don't you shut up, Sabine Michels?"

"All of you! And don't roll your eyes at me, Tom Riddle!"

"I think it's one of the Malfoy triplets."

"Which one? Jasmine, Juri or Jeanne?"

"What makes you say that, Rowan?"

"Look, there goes Juilan."

"Ahh....that explains the crowd. Wherever there's a Malfoy, there's a crowd."

"There goes Dippet."

"And Dumbledore too, Andy."

"Must be a duel."

"No duh, Parkinson. Oh! There's Traherson and Artemis!"

"Must be big."

"They're gonna get in trouble."

"Even though - I hate to say it - the four Malfoys could take them on?"

"That's a good point, Tom."

"I always make good points, Rowan."

"Shut up."

"I mean, the six of us could take 'em easily."

"You're mad."

"No, it would be perfectly simple."

"How so?"

"Dippet'll go out easily, I can take on Dumbledore, you guys can take on Traherson and Artemis. Easy as pie."

"You're mad!"

"That's the second time you've called me that. It's just divide and conquer. Very old-fashioned."

"You are so mad, Tom Riddle."

"Third time, Rowan."

"Well it's true!"

"Maybe it is, Rowan...maybe it is..."
 

* * * * *

 

"Master, the plans are ready." Lord Voldemort was jerked out of his reverie by the nasal voice of Wormtail, also known as Peter Pettigrew.

"Is everyone in their place? Lucius, Avery, Nott?" Voldemort turned his coal-red gaze to the balding man.

"Y-yes, Master." Wormtail shuddered, keeping his eyes lowered to the ground.

"And why are you not?" Voldemort inquired in his frigid voice.

"B-b-because I came to tell you." Wormtail squeaked.

"I have been informed then." Voldemort waved his hand dismissively, "Take your place now, Wormtail."

"Yes, Master." Wormtail scurried off into the night.

Returning his gaze to the castle, the conversation of so long ago echoed in his head. Voldemort considered the castle, tall, dark and semi-foreboding against the darkening night sky. It was Hallowe'en, a perfect time to finish the job he had started sixteen years ago this very night. He pulled his wand out of the pockets in his robes and pointed it at the castle. He then started forward across the lawn, gliding noiselessy as if floating.

"Divide and conquer. Get Dumbledore out of my way. The Potter brat is mine."