Year V

Chapter 3

Into Diagon Alley

Diagon Alley, though Jesse had been here once before, was a new experience. Unlike the year before, when he was there just long enough to buy supplies for Marneons and was strictly supervised by Headmistress Turane, he was actually able to take a look around and check the place out. Last year, Headmistress Turane personally escorted him to the shops he was supposed to go and didn't let him out of her sight...then again, who could blame her, he had already been tossed out of one school at the time. This year, though he had been tossed out of another school, it looked like he would actually have more freedom this time around.

However, a hand grasping his arm suddenly informed him that he might have been mistaken. "And where do you think you're going, young man?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Though she sounded friendly, Jesse could sense an edge to her voice.

He smiled as innocently as he could. "Um...to Gringotts. I have to get money out of the account my parents set up for me there. Can't expect me to buy my things without paying, right?"

Amusement flashed in Mrs. Weasley's eyes as she reached into her handbag and handed him a bag full of coins. "Yes, which is why I withdrew money from your account for you. Here you go."

"What? How did you do that?"

"Your parents gave us permission to withdraw from your account."

"But you needed a key," Jesse said as searched his pockets, "and I had it right...here...in...this...pocket?" Jesse's voice trailed off as Mrs. Weasley handed his key back to him.

"But how?" Jesse asked.

Mrs. Weasley shrugged. "I grabbed it out of your jacket before my husband woke you up."

Jesse shook his head and laughed. "Damn, you're good."

"When you're the mother of seven, you learn a few things." She then handed Harry a bag as well. "Here you go, Harry, and here's your key back as well."

"Well, I guess I'm off then," Jesse said as he started towards Quality Quidditch Supplies. "I guess I'll be seeing you at the Cauldron when...I'm...through...." He stopped when he realized that Mrs. Weasley was still holding on to his arm. "Um, Mrs. Weasley? Can you let go of my arm?"

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Nice try, dear, but my husband warned me about you. You are not to go about unsupervised."

"Oh come on," Jesse protested, "it's not like I'm going to be buying anything illegal."

"Well, that depends on what you define as illegal. Arthur told me about some of the offenses on your record. Bottomless cups, several minor violations concerning floo powder, improper use of an adhesive potion, and then there was your major incident when you disrupted the floo network worldwide."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "Jeez, it was just the Atlantic region, it was an accident and there was no serious harm done. Look, I promise I'll behave. I'll even let you look through my stuff after I buy it."

He gave Mrs. Weasley his most sincere look and, for a moment, she hesitated. "Well, you do have a point."

Then Fred ruined the moment. "Don't worry, mum, George and I will make sure that Jesse stays out of trouble."

"Oh no you don't," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Do you really think I'm going to let this boy loose with you two?"

Five minutes later, they were all in Flourish and Blotts buying their books. Though Harry and the others were allowed to pick up their own books, Jesse was under the strict supervision of Mrs. Weasley. Every time he tried to get something that was not on his list, she would appear out of nowhere and make him put it back on the shelf. Fred and George would try to help and snag the book when her back was turned, but she caught them after the third time.

"Great," Ron muttered, "now the terrible twosome has become a trio."

Harry wasn't sure why Ron was acting hostile towards the new boy. Jesse McCade seemed friendly enough, even for an American. "Ron, what do you have against him?"

"I don't know, Harry, it just doesn't feel right."

"Because he's American? From what I gathered, he doesn't seem that far behind us. In fact, if half of what Fred and George said is true, he might actually be on par with us."

Ron shrugged and shook his head. "No, it's not that. You're right, for a Yank, he seems pretty decent, but I've got a bad feeling about him. I mean, dad never said anything about this until this morning. And this guy comes out of nowhere..."

Hermione decided to join in the conversation. "Relax, Ron. Don't you think you're being just a little paranoid?"

"With all that has happened in the last year, can you blame me for being just a little suspicious? We don't know much about him other than the fact that he messed up the floo network a couple months ago."

"Actually, I think I can give you some background." Hermione smiled as she thrusted a book at him. "Take a look at this."

Harry looked at the cover and saw picture of what appeared two people running in front of what appeared to be the ruins of an old temple...then he realized that that they were running from the temple as it collapsed behind them. He looked at the title and read it aloud. "'Lost Civilizations and Artifacts of the Wizarding World' by Devin McCade? What's this?"

"This was listed as recommended reading by Professor Binns. I have to admit that I was surprised because it didn't seem the type of book he would read. It had some interesting facts about various places and legendary artifacts. Some of the pictures they have are very impressive. But take a look at the biography on the last page."

Harry turned the book to the last page. "Devin McCade is a graduate of Salem Center and a well respected relic hunter. He and his wife, Simone, have worked for the English, German, Bulgarian, and Colonial Ministries of Magic and are responsible for the recovery of several lost artifacts. When not doing freelance work for the various Ministries of Magic, Devin and Simone can be found teaching at the Arcadia Academy in British Columbia, Canada. They have one son, Jesse, who currently attends Marneons Wizarding Academy in Liverpool."

Harry shook his head and laughed as he thumbed through the book.. "Hmmm...a little out of date. Marneons, never heard of it."

Ron snorted. "Oh, that place. It's a small school, but from what I hear, they're fairly decent...not as good as Hogwarts though."

Harry looked down the aisle they were in and spotted Jesse talking to Fred and George. "Hey, Jesse! Look what we found!" Harry held up the book and Jesse flinched which got a laugh out of Hermione and even Ron couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"Put that away!"

"Oh come on, it's really not that bad of a book. Your parents seem to know their stuff and the pictures are incredible."

"Oh Yeah?" Jesse said as he approached him. "Wait until you look on page 213."

"What's on 213?" Harry asked as he turned a couple more pages. "It can't be...that...bad..." His voice trailed off as Ron snickered and Ginny giggled at the picture on page 213. It showed a picture of a five year old Jesse dressed up in a little leather jacket and a baseball cap.

"Awww, you look so cuuuute, ickle Jessekins," George said as he pinched Jesse's face. "Whatever happened to that innocent little boy?"

Jesse batted George's hand away. "He grew up a little. After that pic was taken, I...had an accident and couldn't travel with mom and dad for a year."

Harry caught that slight hesitation in Jesse's voice and for a moment, he could have sworn Jesse's eyes glowed...or maybe that was just a trick of the light. He returned his attention to the book and read the caption underneath the photo. "Jesse in Italy, 1985...what were you doing in Italy?"

It took Jesse a moment to answer, but he shrugged it off. "Ah, probably looking for some obscure artifact. I can't remember...I was only five at the time. Come on, that picture's almost ten years old, there's more recent photos in there. Harry, can I see that book for a second?"

"Sure." Harry handed Jesse the book and watched as the other boy showed Fred, George, Ginny, and Hermione some of the other pictures. He then turned to Ron, who was still looking at Jesse suspiciously. "Still don't trust him?"

Ron shook his head. "Nope."

"Hermione's right, Ron," Harry said with a smile. "You're being too paranoid...besides, he's not all that...bad...for...a...Cho?"

"Huh?" Ron looked back up at Harry who was looking past Jesse and the others. Ron looked in the direction Harry was facing and saw Cho Chang entering the store. He looked back at Harry who seemed to be in kind of a trance and laughed. "Still got it bad for her, huh?"

Harry didn't answer.

Ron waved his hand in front of Harry's face. "Hello, Harry, wake up."

"Huh?"

"Hi, remember me, Ron Weasley...your best friend?"

Harry shook his head and chuckled. "Sorry, Ron, just a lot of things going through my mind." He saw Ron smile and punched him in the arm. "No, not that...I was just thinking about what happened last year, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Voldemort, Cedric's death..."

The smile faded slightly from Ron's face. "You ever thought of talking to her about it?"

"Yes, a lot of times. I even tried to write her a couple letters but gave up. These last couple months must have been bad on her and I'd like to help her out but..."

Ron finished the sentence for him. "But you can't be certain if you're doing it out of friendship or out of greedy self-interest, am I right?"

Harry laughed again. "Wow."

"What?"

"Ron, I'm impressed. That was a deep statement coming from you."

"Yeah, but it's true, isn't it?"

"I'm not going to dignify question with a reply." Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Look Harry," Ron said as he guided his friend by the arm towards the entrance of the store, "it wouldn't hurt to at least talk to her. She needs some friends right now, greedy or otherwise...no wait, that didn't sound right."

"Great, thanks a lot, you've been a big help."

"Look, just talk to her." Ron said as he shoved Harry out of the aisle they were in.

Harry was about to say something, when he saw Cho standing there. "Uh...Cho. Hi."

Cho smiled and Harry felt his knees start to weaken. "Hello, Harry."

There was a couple of moments of awkward silence, then they both spoke at once. "So, how have you been?"

They both stopped and laughed.

After a couple more awkward moments of silence, Harry finally spoke again. "You seem to be doing better, Cho. Everything okay?"

Cho nodded, although Harry detected some sadness in her eyes. "Yes, although I've still a long way to go."

Harry wanted to say something, but it was caught in his throat. "Look, Cho, I'm sor-"

Cho waved him off. "It's okay, Harry. I know that it wasn't your fault and you mustn't blame yourself."

Easier said than done,

Harry thought. He still had nightmares of Cedric's death at the hands of Voldemort. He was about to say something else when he heard more laughter from down the aisle. He turned and saw Jesse pretending to strangle Fred while George and the others were laughing at some more photos in the book. "Well, looks like he wasted no time melting into our little group," he said.

"What?"

He turned back to Cho and shook his head. "Oh, sorry, Cho. We're entertaining a new student...an American transfer."

"Oh, really?" Cho gave him another smile and Harry once again felt his knees starting to give out. "I wasn't aware that such an animal existed."

Harry laughed, thankful that Cho managed to break the tension. "Yeah, but he seems to be blending in."

"You know what house he'll be in?"

"No." Harry suddenly frowned. "Then again, it wouldn't surprise me if he wound up in Slytherin...although...." His frown turned into an evil grin. "That could be a good thing. I could just see this guy making life miserable for Malfoy."

He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Ron gesturing for him to get on with it. "So...um...Cho. Look, I was just wondering...you think we can maybe get together for an hour or two and just talk?"

To Harry's surprise, Cho nodded. "I'd like that. Maybe in Hogsmeade when the term starts?"

"Sure."

"Then I'll see you there. It was good to see you again, Harry."

"Yeah," Harry said as he watched her walk off. "You too..."

He looked over at Ron who pretended to have his nose in a book. Although he couldn't see the lower half of Ron's face, he could imagine the big grin hidden behind the book. "Don't even say it, Ron," he warned.

Ron gave him a look of feigned innocence. "What? I wasn't going to say anything."

"Of course you weren't," Harry said as he went to rejoin the others.

"Really. I wasn't going to say anything."

Jesse flinched as Fred and George found yet another embarrassing picture of him. This one was of him when he was ten, hanging upside down in a temple in the jungles of Brazil. "Oh, jeez, guys...c'mon, let's just put the book away."

"I don't know," Fred said as he gave George a mischievous grin. "I think I might buy a copy of this."

"Thanks a lot guys," Jesse grumbled, although he couldn't fight the smile on his face. Even though he hated to admit it, he actually liked these guys. And the other kids weren't that bad either...with the exception of Ron. Maybe this won't be so bad after all, he thought to himself.

"So," Hermione asked him as she took the book away from George and Fred, "you've actually been to all these places in this book?"

"Most of them. Been traveling with my parents since I was two. They tried to keep me out of the States most of the time. You know, I think I've spent more time abroad than in the States. When I started at Salem Center, I spent half of my first year sleeping through my HOM classes because I had seen half the stuff already."

"Salem Center?" Fred gave him a curious look. "I thought that was an all-girls school."

Jesse laughed. "Nah, that's the Salem Witches Institute. There's two schools in the Salem area, Salem Witches Institute and Salem Centre of Magical Arts. Both schools are filled up mostly with stuck up snobs who think they're better than anyone else. Although, to be honest, I've only met a couple of the Institute girls during an inter-school Quidditch tournament in my third year. Their all-star team slaughtered our all-star team."

Then he smiled as he remembered something else. "On the other hand...it was my first kiss. Almost worth falling fifty feet and breaking my legs."

This got some laughter from the twins. "Ouch, talk about a personal foul," Fred said.

"So you play Quidditch?" asked Harry as he and Ron rejoined the group.

"Yeah."

"Let me guess." Ron's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "You're probably a seeker and you're probably one of the best players out there."

"Ron, that was rude!" Hermione snapped.

Jesse shook his head. "It's okay, Hermione. Yeah, Ron, I used to play Seeker position, but I prefer playing a Beater. And no, I don't consider myself that great of a player. Just ask any wall I've run into."

"What kind of broom do you use?" Fred asked, glancing over at George who was obviously thinking the same thing. If Jesse ended up in one of the other houses, they might have a potential rival in their midst.

"It's an old broom, an antique. It's my uncle's old Silver Arrow."

"Wow, I'm shocked," Ron said. "I'm surprised you didn't have the latest version of the Firebolt or something."

"Ron, that's enough!" Hermione turned back to Jesse. "Jesse, don't mind him."

Harry thought he saw something flicker across Jesse's face, and for a moment, Jesse's easy-going attitude seemed to disappear. Then he saw it again and was certain it was no trick of the light. Jesse's eyes did glow for an instant. His suspicions were confirmed when Jesse pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his jacket and put them on. Then he saw the familiar grin and attitude slide back into place.

Jesse shrugged. "It's all right, Hermione. Ron, I don't what your problem is with me, but I'm going to let you in on a little secret. You obviously don't want me here. Well, I can honestly tell you that I don't want to be here. The only reason I'm here to begin with is because Dumbledore..."

His voice faltered as he saw Mrs. Weasley suddenly come around the corner. "I'm only here because Dumbledore felt I deserved a second chance."

For one tense moment, nobody said anything. Mrs. Weasley studied the whole group a little longer than finally spoke. It was obvious that she didn't overhear the conversation, but suspected something wasn't right. "So, I take it everyone has the books they need?"

Everyone nodded.

"Um...yeah."

"Uh-huh."

"Yes."

"Sure."

She looked them all over again with one of those "I know I just walked in on something and we'll deal with this later" looks that seemed to be the trademark of most mothers. "Very, well...let's pay for our things and be off. There's still plenty to do."

****************************

Nicholas stood across the street from Flourish and Blott's as he watched Jesse McCade interact with the other kids. How sad, he thought to himself. To deny your true nature is to live a lie...a sign of weakness. Though he hadn't planned on returning to Diagon Alley until the next morning, he decided to see what was so important about Jesse McCade. He never understood what DeBoer saw in the McCade boy. Sure, he showed signs of the gift, but he was nothing, an accident that happened to spawn outside the Covenant's control. But DeBoer had been adamant about Jesse McCade and had been monitoring Jesse since the boy was five years old.

Nicholas remembered that day as well, the day when he first sensed Jesse. Though he was only ten years old and still in under the control of the guildmasters at the time, Nicholas could still recall the burning agony he sensed even though Jesse was half a world away. And the memory...for a moment, he was connected to Jesse McCade and he remembered every detail.

A woman crying for mercy, the scream of a child, and pure agony. And watching it all happen with a smug grin, was a pale faced man with blond hair, pointing a wand.

"Scream all you like, boy. Now, woman, tell me about the Stiehl."

"I already told you, we haven't found it yet!"

"Hmmm...I don't think that's the answer I wanted. CRUCIO!"

More screams from the child.

"I can keep this up all night, Mrs. McCade. I would have thought that a mother would never want her child to come harm. It must be painful to be helpless and not be able to protect your son."

"NO!"

"CRUCIO!"

Another scream and then...flames...

Nicholas remembered watching through the boy's eyes, and feeling the rage as it took form in fire and lashed out at its tormentor...and then it was gone.

And so his family chooses to bury his nature with this facade. But soon, Jesse, people will know what you are...and you will have to make your choice.

He turned and continued to walk down the street, rounding a corner and heading away from Diagon Alley. A few minutes later, he found himself standing in the dingy and dimly lit street known as Knockturn Alley. He smiled and looked around as he took a breath of the tainted air. "Ah, such a beautiful place."

He scanned the street, noting that a couple store owners were looking at him from their windows. So many places to choose from, he thought. Ah, this will do.

A smile formed on his lips as he noticed a couple seeing-stones on display in the window of a store called Borgin and Burkes. He took a final look down the street, then opened the door and entered the shop. "Lovely," he said as he looked in a glass display case that contained a couple human skulls.

"May I help you, sir?"

Nicholas turned and saw a small man with a stooping posture and greasy black hair standing behind a counter. Nicholas smiled at him. "Yes indeed, Mr. Borgin...is it?"

"Yes," replied the shopkeeper as he shook Nicholas' extended hand. "Although I am curious as to why an American is here in my store of all places."

Nicholas chuckled. "It stands out that much, does it?"

Borgin smiled, though he didn't try too hard to hide the disgust in his eyes. He never cared much for American Wizards, he regarded most of those he met as a joke. However, there was something about this fellow that set him on edge. "It does stand out a little. Perhaps if you wore more traditional garb instead of muggle clothing..."

Perhaps it was the way the stranger was dressed all in black, or perhaps it was those muggle sunglasses he was wearing that completely hid his eyes. When he grinned, his white teeth reminded Borgin of the jaws of a predator anticipating a kill. "Mr. Borgin," he said softly though there was a slight edge to his voice, "I am actually here to conduct business. However, if you wish to insult a potential customer, then perhaps I should try another place."

There was something in young man's voice that sent a cold chill through Borgin. "Ah, of course, and what can I help you with?"

"Those Seeing Stones you have on display...how much do you want for them?"

Borgin frowned. The Seeing Stones in question were not particularly valuable, however, that did not stop him from doubling the price. "Those are a pair of vintage Seeing Stones from the late nineteenth century. I'm asking for twenty galleons...each."

Nicholas looked the man over for a moment. Though it was obvious the man was frightened of him, it didn't prevent him from trying to overcharge for the Seeing Stones. He laughed and nodded as he pulled a small bag out of his coat and placed it on the counter. "Very well then, Mr. Borgin, forty galleons."

"Ah, very good," Borgin said as he grabbed the Seeing Stones out of the window display. "Anything else?"

The customer took the Seeing Stones from him and shook his head. "No, Mr. Borgin, that will be all." Then he turned and started to leave.

"Very well then." Borgin tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice. "Feel free to come again."

The stranger stopped, and though he didn't turn around, Borgin could almost sense the evil grin on the young man's face. "Mr. Borgin, should I ever return here, it will be the last business transaction you will ever make." And then he was gone.

Borgin watched as the stranger walked down the street and waited until he had walked around the corner. Then he wiped the sweat from his brow. He didn't know why, but something about that man scared him and for a moment, he had thought about contacting ministry officials. Contact the Ministry? Him? And do what, report the activity of a suspicious individual? That would be like the pot calling the kettle black...the Ministry would laugh in his face then lock him up as well. He tossed aside that idea and shook it off. Perhaps he was worried about nothing, maybe he was getting paranoid in his old age.

He shook his head and chuckled to himself. "Maybe I am getting too paranoid...perhaps a drink will help." He closed up the shop and locked the front door before apparating off to the Leaky Cauldron, never even noticing the dark shape hanging in the corner of the ceiling, cloaked in shadows, its red eyes glowing as it waited for the master to issue the kill order. But until it received the order, it would remain in the shadows and watch.

****************************

Thomas Marvolo Riddle...Tom Riddle...Lord Thomas...Voldemort...he must not be named...you know who....

Voldemort smiled as he recalled the many names he had been referred to by others. Some would say his name with disgust, fewer would say his name with respect, but many would utter any of his names in fear. He stood in the living room of the old Riddle Home and contemplated on what to do next. Though he had recently returned to the land of the living and succeeded in re-establishing his group of Death Eaters, something did not feel right. Yes, he had literally risen from the dead, and yes, he was ready to reclaim his former glory and then some. For thirteen years, thirteen long and agonizing years, he had lived as barely a specter, a disembodied spirit, thanks to that little bastard Harry Potter.

A smile crept on his thin lips...but that was done and over with. He had returned and thanks to the ritual that had restored him, he was no longer in danger of the magic that protected Harry Potter, magic that now flowed through his veins.

Soon, Harry...we will meet again and end this. For I have a world to conquer.

But this was a far different world than the one he once knew. The muggle world had become darker, more sinister. He had tried walking through the streets of London late one night and someone had tried to rob him...HIM of all people. He simply dispatched the man with a death curse and left the body in an alley. Muggles preying upon their own, becoming more animal like than they were before...some were even starting to dabble in magic on their own, unleashing forces they couldn't understand and perishing as the forces they summoned consumed them. Yes, this was a far different world than the one he left thirteen years ago.

He had come back to this town...Little Hangleton...back to this house that belonged to his father. He had considered having it torn down at one time, but it served well as a place to gather his thoughts and contemplate about the future. But today, he was thinking about the disappearance of two of his followers, Macnair and Collier. They were to watch Harry Potter and follow him, but they had failed to report back to him. Something was definitely wrong...he could sense it.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see a short balding man with graying hair. "M-my Lord," he managed to say after a few moments of hesitation.

"What is it, Wormtail, you know that I did not wish to be disturbed."

"Yes, master, but..." Wormtail suddenly hesitated again. From the tone of his voice, it was obvious that he had bad news.

"Out with it, Wormtail."

"We've located Macnair and Collier. Our man in the Ministry has informed me that their bodies are currently being held there."

Voldemort suddenly whirled around to face his servant, an action that caused Wormtail to whimper even more. "What did you say?"

"Th-they're dead, my lord."

The master's red eyes narrowed as his voice became a very low hiss. "What happened?"

"They were killed outside the Leaky Cauldron last night. Macnair was burned to a cinder and Collier was...partially eaten." Wormtail started to whimper and cower some more as if he were expecting his master to punish him for bringing such horrible news. But when he looked back up a few seconds later, he saw his master standing there, his face lost in deep contemplation.

After a few more moments of silence, Voldemort spoke again. "Really? And why has this not been mentioned in this morning's Daily Prophet? I would have thought the Ministry would love to publish the fact that two of my followers were killed."

"C-Cornelius Fudge, master. He felt that it would cause a panic and people would start to believe that you had returned."

A smile formed on Voldemort's thin lips and he chuckled softly. "Cornelius Fudge," he spoke Fudge's name with a mixture of amusement and disgust. "He's even more pathetic than you, Wormtail. Although, in his ignorance, he has done a lot to aid me."

He fell silent again for a moment. "Very well then, Wormtail. Inform Lucious Malfoy of the news, and tell him to gather the others. I wish to meet with them and discuss this matter." Then he turned away and looked back into the fireplace as if searching it for a vision. Wormtail bowed nervously, then left the room, thankful that his Master didn't punish him for this.

"So," Voldemort said to himself, "what have we got here..."

Many things went through his mind. He had known Macnair and Collier, they were two of his more vicious followers. What could take them down so quickly? He pondered this for a moment when he remembered that Macnair was burned to a cinder...which suddenly jarred a memory. Burning a wizard to death would require a powerful magic indeed, but leaving a body charred to the point of being barely more than a pile of ashes...

An elemental, it has to be.

But that was impossible. Elemental Mages, if one ever appeared, would have been immediately dealt with by the Ministry. In fact, he was certain that there were none in England, let alone the whole of Europe. Otherwise, he would have had them on his side by now. Which brought him to one definite conclusion...the Elemental was an outsider.

Then there was the other body...torn and partially eaten. "Wormtail?"

There was the sound of running footsteps and Wormtail poked his head through the door again. "Yes, master?"

"You said that Collier was partially eaten."

Wormtail shuddered. "Yes, my lord, he was. His throat was ripped out and he was gutted like a pig."

"Did they determine what attacked him?"

"No, my lord. They even called in the Keeper of Hogwarts to identify what attacked Collier and he even he couldn't do so."

Now that was curious. "Rubeus Hagrid, failing to identify a creature like this?" Voldemort shook his head and laughed. "Well, that certainly narrows things down a bit. He, of all people, would know what kind of creature could do this."

"Yes, but according to what our spy overheard at the investigation, Hagrid could find no identifying claw marks or traits of any known animal. It's as if a phantom came out of nowhere and just mauled the man."

Again, Voldemort fell silent for a few moments. Several theories were already going through his mind and he was eliminating them as he weighed each argument. When Wormtail had made the reference to a phantom, Voldemort's red eyes narrowed. "Shaders."

"What?"

"A Shader, Wormtail. A manifestation of shadow given form...I haven't encountered this kind of magic since I visited America many years ago."

Wormtail laughed. "Americans did this? No offense, master, but I doubt the Colonials are even capable of such magic."

Voldemort chuckled again, his cold voice echoing off the walls. "Not Colonials, Wormtail. A Colonial doesn't practice shadow-magic. This was the work of a Guilder and I'm guessing it was an assassin."

"The Guilds?" Wormtail's voice was a mixture of fear and disbelief. "And why would an assassin come after us? You don't think the Ministry of Magic hired them, do you?"

Voldemort shook his head. "I doubt the Ministry would hire an assassin to kill a couple of Death Eaters and leave the bodies in the muggle world outside the Leaky Cauldron. Chances are, Macnair and Collier stumbled across him and he merely killed them. No, Wormtail, whoever killed them did so out arrogance. But that still does not answer the question as to why they are here in England."

"Actually, my lord, there is something curious. Our spy informed us that Arthur Weasley was arriving at the Cauldron the following day along with his family and Harry Potter-"

"I am aware of this, Wormtail."

"Of course, master," stammered Wormtail. "But he was also to pick someone up at the Cauldron as well, another student...one from the colonies. Apparently, the boy had arrived earlier in the evening."

"Really?" Voldemort stared back into the fireplace. "And why are we just learning this now?"

"Our spy didn't know until last night. Apparently the arrangements had been made with Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley had been very quiet about it, even Cornelius Fudge didn't know."

Voldemort pointed his wand at the fireplace which suddenly erupted to life. "So, Dumbledore's bringing a new player on the field. Wormtail, do we know who this boy is?"

"Not yet, my lord. Although we shall have this information shortly."

"Good." Voldemort then dismissed Wormtail with a wave of his hand. "That will be all for now, Wormtail."

As he listened to Wormtail's fading footsteps, he studied the flames and watched them dance as he thought about what he just learned.

An elemental mage...Dumbledore bringing in a new student from the colonies...

It all seemed to fall in place and yet...something still didn't feel right. But that didn't matter. Sooner or later, he would know everything and his enemies would be destroyed. After all, it was only a matter of time. And having been "dead" for thirteen years, he had learned to be a patient man.