Skill and Seclusion [2] || Harry Potter x OC x Draco Malfoy

107. The Portkey

DISCLAIMER

I do not own Harry Potter ... but I'd give an arm and a leg to go to the Quidditch World Cup

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There was a snake.

And there was a graveyard.

A stone depiction of death built next to a slab containing three names.

All shared the same last name.

Riddle.

There were also two houses.

One in the distance, shrouded in fog, looking eerily abandoned.

The second was closer, much smaller, with the light's turned on, glowing through the closed windows.

Inside of the second was an old man making a cup of tea.

He was interrupted by the sight of light emitting from one of the windows over at the first house, in just a single room.

"Bloody kids", the man muttered before grabbing a large set of silver keys and a torch.

He left the second house and treaded through the dark grounds towards the first.

When inside it became clear that the first house was indeed abandoned.

There was dust and cobwebs covering every square inch of every surface, not a single light able to work.

The old man creaked open each door, hearing a faint banging sound coming from upstairs.

As he walked up the rickety staircase, his only vision being provided by the dim torch, voices were heard.

"How fastidious you've become, Wormtail."

The old man paused halfway up the staircase and turned off the torch.

He wasn't drowned in darkness, as there was light coming from the other side of an open door of one of the rooms.

The source being a lit fireplace.

"As I recall, you once called the nearest gutter pipe home", the same strained voice of a man continued to speak.

"Could it be that the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you?"

The man continued up the staircase, only pausing when a loud creak sounded out from under his boot.

It didn't seem to alert the voices in the room.

"Oh, no. No, no, my Lord Voldemort."

A second voice spoke as the old man saw a grotesque looking man step into view.

He stood in front of an arm chair whose occupant was out of the old man's sight.

"I only meant ... perhaps if we were to do it without the boy", the second man continued to speak, his voice shaking slightly.

"No! The boy is everything! It cannot be done without him. And it will be done. Exactly as I said", the first man's voice tried to yell, but his words came out as a cold and raspy whisper.

That was when a third man stepped into view, crouching down beside the armchair.

The old man stepped closer to the door.

"I will not disappoint you, my Lord", the third man said.

"Good. First, gather our old comrades. Send them a sign", the first man's voice instructed.