The Darkness Within: Voldemort/Hadria Potter

Something Amiss

The night was still and silent at Borgin and Burkes, the kind of silence that presses against your ears and fills the void with anticipation. Voldemort's hand was firm on Hadria's arm, a silent command to wait as the last of the Death Eaters disappeared into the Vanishing Cabinet's shadowy depths. The air was thick with anticipation. .

"We'll go last," Voldemort's voice was a mere whisper, yet it carried the weight of command. His eyes never left the cabinet, the portal to their destiny. Since dawn, he had been a statue of concentration, his mind undoubtedly weaving and turning through the intricacies of their plan. Hadria respected his need for contemplation, giving him the space to orchestrate their coup while she attended to her own tasks, her school assignments a trivial matter compared to the history they were about to write but it gave her something to do.

The Cabinet seemed to groan under the weight of their ambition as the last cloaked figure vanished into its confines. Then, it was their turn. The space within was cramped, the air close. Voldemort leaned over Hadria, his presence enveloping her as he shut them in, the darkness complete for a heartbeat before the door creaked open once more.

They emerged into the Room of Requirement, a chamber that now housed the heart of their uprising. Lucius and Bellatrix stood amongst the gathered Death Eaters, their faces masks of eager malice. With a subtle flick of his hand, Voldemort dispatched them forward, silent shadows slipping through the castle's veins.

As soon as they emerged from the room of requirement the portraits on the walls sounded the alarms spreading the news like wildfire, many of them running by from their frames in fear.

They were heading for Dumbledore's office, the sanctum of the man who had long stood as a beacon of resistance against them. Tonight, that beacon would be extinguished. Hadria felt the surge of adrenaline, the electric thrill of the impending storm. She was excited but also a touch of nausea clawed her. This was the night they would seize control, the night they would change the course of history. The night Hogwarts would fall.

As Voldemort and his entourage of Death Eaters moved like shadows through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, the castle seemed to hold its breath. The silence was shattered when a door creaked open, and Professor Flitwick stepped out, wand at the ready. His eyes widened at the sight before him, and with a swift motion, he sent a stunning spell towards the intruders.

The spell was deftly blocked by Bellatrix, who cackled with glee. "You'll have to do better than that, Filius!" she taunted, as she sent a barrage of spells his way.

The commotion drew more attention. Students, roused from their beds by the noise, peeked out from behind doors. Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, emerged from around a corner, her expression stern. "This ends now!" she declared, sending a powerful Disarming Charm towards Lucius.

The battle was on. Spells flew back and forth, lighting up the hallways with their dangerous dance. The Death Eaters, skilled in dark magic, used non-lethal spells to incapacitate their opponents. One by one, the teachers and students fell, stunned or bound by magical ropes, but not seriously harmed.

Hadria, fighting alongside Voldemort, felt a surge of adrenaline. She deflected a curse from a brave Hufflepuff student, sending him gently floating to the ground, asleep. Voldemort, the architect of the night's terror, was a specter of power, his spells a force of nature that none could withstand. His presence was a dark star, drawing all into his orbit, his magic a display of terrifying beauty.

"Alectus! Amycus! See to it the captured are taken to the dungeons," Voldemort snapped as they continued down the corridor closing in on their target.

As they neared Dumbledore's chambers, the resistance grew fiercer. The portraits on the walls shouted warnings rose the castle's ancient guardians, the suits of armor that stood sentinel in its halls, were roused to action by the clamor of battle. With a cacophony of clanking metal, they converged upon Voldemort and his followers, their movements surprisingly agile for beings wrought of iron and steel.