𝕬 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖎𝖘 𝕭𝖔𝖗𝖓 | 𝑇𝑜𝑚 𝑅𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 |

Chapter 64- The Loon and the Prophecy

Sides had officially been formed and the second wizarding war begun. There was the foolishly optimistic Ministry, who assured the wizarding world that Voldemort would not run as rampant as Grindelwald had and that the situation was at hand. As long as the public followed their instructions, all would be well. Meanwhile, the Death Eaters, along with his other lowly minions not worthy of the name, were scattered everywhere. They didn't really start grand battles like the muggles did when they were at war. Primarily, his Death Eaters had the freedom to go wherever as long as they were upholding their values. Looking for Mudbloods and blood traitors to destroy, along with anyone else who got in their way, recruiting fellow Purebloods to join them, and killing muggles just for a bit of fun every once in a while. It was all going according to Voldemort's plan and, once he had a grand enough following, he would overtake the Ministry and have everything he ever wanted. Well, everything except for her.

It was a cold night in early January. The new year was 1980. Voldemort had just returned from recruiting abroad, beginning to take larger steps in his plans and further expand his army across the nation. He was currently hiding out in an abandoned castle, which was a temporary base until he inevitably took over the Ministry and the school. The trip had been tedious. His number of followers were actively dropping. However, it wasn't the Ministry who was fighting back. There was a third side to this war that was somewhat successfully working against him. The mysterious and ever so elusive; Order of the Phoenix. While the Ministry feigned recognition of this secret order, Dumbledore had all the best Aurors under his control, feeding him information from within. Voldemort anticipated Dumbledore to do something to fight back, but he never imagined it would be so effective. His army was the only thing dwindling Voldemort's numbers.

"Welcome back, my lord."

Voldemort had mindlessly been shuffling through different figures and scenarios in his head, when he realized he'd suddenly been approached by Abraxas Malfoy.

"Ah, Abraxas, my old friend—How are things going?" Voldemort smiled, icily. Although, he hadn't really been thinking or doing something important in the first place, Malfoy better have had a good reason for interrupting him.

"There was a bit of a hiccup with the Order while you were away." Abraxas admitted, already cringing a bit at wrath that had not yet been displayed towards him.

"How many did we lose this time?" Voldemort asked, seemingly calm.

"None. But she was spotted." Abraxas reported.

"Was she?" Voldemort inquired, attempting to hold back a genuine sense of surprise in his voice. He had told all his followers to look for a girl with her features and bring her to him, with the simple promise of a big reward for whoever could bring forth the right one. No questions asked. They probably all thought she was just a certain Mudblood he wanted to kill himself, or something stupidly trivial like that. Only his closest knew exactly which girl he wanted. However, they did not dare ask questions of why he wanted her even now. Nor did they dare tell of this valuable connection to anyone else unless they wanted to be killed themselves.

"Yes. Lucius and I saw her in battle. She seems to be a part of the Order."

"—And she's not here because?"

"We tried, but she was too well protected. You know how Dumbledore—"

"I didn't ask for your excuses!" Voldemort snapped back, viciously. "How hard is it to grab a loony, addled old woman?"

"That's another thing, my lord—She looks the same as I last saw her." Abraxas added, quickly, struggling not to cower. "She's been preserved by some magic I've never seen before."