Year Four: The Goblet of Fire Pt 1

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*In a cottage in Little Hangleton, a caretaker was making his tea. A light came on from the house and he slammed his towel down.*

Caretaker: Bloody kids.

*He grabbed his keys and torch and made his way to the house. He opened the door and walked up the stairs and heard voices. He got closer to see a bunch of men standing around a couch.*

Voldemort: How fastidious you've become, Wormtail. As l recall, you once called the nearest gutter pipe home. Could it be that the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you?

Wormtail: Oh, no. No, no, my Lord Voldemort. l only meant...perhaps if we were to do it without the boy.

Voldemort: No! The boy is everything! lt cannot be done without him. And it will be done. Exactly as l said.

Jr: l will not disappoint you, my Lord.

Voldemort: Good. First, gather our old comrades. Send them a sign. And Scarecrow, your assignment is going to the World Cup and bringing fear to them all.

Scarecrow: Yes, my lord.

*A snake slithered past the caretaker. It then spoke in parseltongue to Voldemort.*

Voldemort: Nagini tells me the old Muggle caretaker is standing just outside the door.

*Jr stood up and Bane blocked the doorway path.*

Voldemort: Step aside, Bane, so l can give our guest a proper greeting.

*He smiled under his mask and spoke in Spanish.*

Bane: Por supuesto, Mi Señor Oscuro.

Voldemort: Avada Kedavra!

*A green light shined and hit the old man who screamed. His tea kettle whistled out. Back at the Weasley home, Harry was breathing heavily and having a nightmare. Hermione had a candle over him.*

Hermione: Harry. Harry! Are you all right?

*Harry woke up and put his glasses on.*

Harry: Hermione. Bad dream. When did you get here?

Hermione: Just now. You?

Harry: Last night. I went to bed after writing a letter to Damian.

Hermione: What did he say?

Harry: Not much. Just misses us and hopes to see us again next year.

Hermione: Wake up! Wake up, Ronald!

Ron: Bloody hell.

Hermione: Honestly, get dressed. And don't go back to sleep. Come on, Ron! Your mother says breakfast's ready!

*Ron went back to bed and closed his eyes. Meanwhile in Gotham, Jim Gordon and his partner, Flass, stopped by a house so Flass could grab something. He got back in the car.*

Flass: Don't suppose you want a taste. I just keep offering, thinking maybe someday you'll get wise.

Gordon: There's nothing wise in what you do, Flass.

Flass; Well, Jimbo, you don't take the taste, makes us guys nervous.

Gordon: I'm no rat. In a town this bent, who's there to rat to anyway?

*They head back to the station. Gordon sits at his desk to make a call but the phone's not working. Then all of a sudden, the light went out and he felt a gun on the back of his head.*

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