The Dark Lord
The drawing room was silent. If you were to walk past it you would believe it to be empty, but in actual fact it was crowded with people. They were all sat in silence at a large ornate table. They were waiting. No one dared to speak. Tom Riddle was sat at the head of the table tapping his foot impatiently, "I don't understand why it is so difficult for some of you to come when I summon you."
The Dark Lord sighed, "I really don't like to be kept waiting."
The door opened and in walked two young deatheaters. They were Hogwarts students; Severus Snape and Regulus Black. "I don't like to be kept waiting boys," the Dark Lord spoke softly.
"Sorry my lord," Severus spoke up as both boys bowed to their master, "we were delayed."
"We bring news my lord," Regulus began, "news that we believe might prove very useful to you my lord."
"Well lets hear it," Voldemort replied.
"We have managed to convert two more students to our cause," Regulus began.
"With almost the entire house of Slytherin behind us, we might just be able to accomplish our mission, my lord," Snape smiled.
"Good – first Hogwarts, then the Ministry..." Voldemort grinned, his red eyes focused on Regulus, "what of your personal mission?"
"I am working on it my lord," Regulus frowned, "my brother has been staying with the Potters."
"Pettigrew has got to finish what he started; I want them dead."
"Yes my lord," Regulus nodded.
"You will need to be as sly as foxes if you are to hoodwink the teachers," Tom whispered, "they will not be easily deceived."
"Yaxley, what of the Order of the Phoenix?"
"They have gone somewhat quiet with the death of Mrs Potter."
"Not to mention the fact we've been killing them off all summer," one of the other deatheaters laughed.
Voldemort chuckled, "there are still too many of them... Dumbledore, McGonagall, Potter, the McKinnons... all those bloody Prewetts..."
"The older ones aren't so involved now though," that same deatheater countered.
Voldemort's head snapped towards him in anger, "that is besides the point."
"I want them dead – every single last one of them," Voldemort continued, "and I will not show mercy if you fail me."
James was sat on the floor of his bedroom organising his trunk. He had spent most of the morning completely emptying it of all the old quills, desiccated beetle eyes, socks and other things that had made their way to the bottom of his trunk. As he refilled his trunk with his school robes, books, supplies and equipment, he couldn't help but think that this would be the last time he ever prepared for a year at Hogwarts again. He was at long last a seventh year student. Everyone kept saying how proud his mother would have been; he was Head Boy, Quidditch Captian... and as his father kept reminding him he was going to get fantastic grades and train to be an auror. Of course James Potter had decided to forgo auror training, at least for a few years. He wanted to devote his time and energy to the Order of the Phoenix. As much as his father agreed with his sentiment, he couldn't understand why he couldn't just do both. They had argued over it several times in the last week and neither Potter showed signs of backing down.
James had spent the previous day with his friends in London. They had shopped for supplies and James had bought himself a new broomstick. Charlus had given him the money to buy it as a reward for being made Head Boy. James and Lily had written up the first prefect schedule.
James had never seen himself as the Head Boy sort. That was always Remus. Thinking of himself as Head Boy was almost as bad as thinking of Sirius as Head Boy. James chuckled at the thought. At that moment Sirius and Marlene walked through the door and fell onto his bed, "what's taking you so long, Jamsie boy?" Sirius complained.
"Just getting nostalgic," James sighed.
Sirius laughed, "it's our last chance to come up with the best pranks Hogwarts has ever seen."
"We've already achieved that," James grinned, "now we just have to make sure that no future mischief makers will ever beat us."
"Yeah... and... do you think your Head Boyness will prevent that?"
"Not bloody likely," James grinned.
Marlene laughed, "Lils got her hands full keeping you in check this year hasn't she?"
"I'll never be kept in check!" James laughed.
"So are you going to be asking the lovely Miss Evans out again this year?" Sirius winked.
"Too right I am," James smirked as he ran his hand through his hair, "its my last chance."