Toggle paper mode ----


A/N: Coinciding with the same universe as Sixth Year: The Steps Towards The End, Afterthoughts will be a series of short one shots dealing with aspects either removed from the final copy of the chapters, conversations or moments that were forgotten to be put into chapters or, as the name implies, afterthoughts.

I do not plan to update this much at all. My focus primarily is on finishing Sixth Year and will be until it is done. Sometimes I have trouble writing certain parts and this will give me a bit of an outlet to try and unblock my writing spirit.

As of the fifteenth of February, there are only three of these in my mind. That will probably change as I go.

Note that these will not be in any particular order. Whatever I feel like writing will be put up as they are done.

These will not be beta read. They are thoughts, afterthoughts at that, and very little, if anything, here will have impact upon the main storyline of Sixth Year.

On that note, don't expect the same quality work as in Sixth Year.

I also need practice writing Voldemort. I refuse to alternate between Harry's adventures and Voldemort's like so many stories do, because canon never did, and why spoil the plans that our favorite Dark Lord is concocting?

Chapter 1: A Side Trip to Voldey-town

Darkness wrapped around all who entered the room. Those that did enter the room, and they were very few and far between, could feel the darkness upon their souls and were more than eager to leave once their business was done. It was as if an evil presence would rise and grow beside their hearts, a coldness that could not be explained by mere temperature.

However, there were always those that defied the norms. The man that spent many hours in here did not like the aesthetic value as much as the next person, but he was unaffected by the same feelings as the humans who would enter to report on their work. Still, it was his pet, his ally, which truly enjoyed the abode. The many holes in the rooms' walls allowed quick and simple access in and out of the building and into the newly christened feeding grounds.

When the man and creature first arrived, the vicinity of the building was a haven for rats and other vermin. Very few humans ever came this way, for good reason. This was a place of death and decay, a place where only the foolish would venture without true purpose.

It was also in the middle of nowhere. That was why it was a secure place to lay low.

Since their arrival, man and creature had together decimated an almost unbelievable percentage of the population of animal life. It would be slumber season for the creature all too soon and the large quantities of food would ensure survival till the warm weather returned.

An entire month at this place was, unfortunately, too long, even for one unaffected by the dark, dank area. It was nearing time to move again. After the next meeting, the man would leave and begin a search for a new, better place to reside until a more suitable, exquisite location was obtained.

It was such a shame that it would be a few more years until the nation was his.

The man had an ambition. His ambition was simple; domination of the United Kingdom with the erasure of all those against him, pureblood, half-blood or muggleborn. It did not matter. This was something he did discriminate.

A sharp creak resounded loudly throughout the room from somewhere nearby. The man did not visibly react, however, internally, his mind was working quickly. It seemed it was time.

A series of loud noises echoed throughout the room. The man knew the sounds were footsteps and was unconcerned by whatever emotions would normally rise within a human in such a situation.

Fear was for the weak.

Simplicity saves everyone so much trouble sometimes.

The footsteps grew progressively louder as time passed. The room was connected by a single entrance, one heavily camouflaged by both muggle and magical means. The muggle means were unintentional, though one could not deny the foliage provided adequate cover.

The passageway was little different from the room itself. It was dark, unlit by any means, muggle or magical. It had the same smell one would associate with underneath a forgotten, underused underpass some time after rain with much of the water yet to evaporate. Only vermin thrived here.

A second sound joined the footsteps, this one also familiar. A slithering, serpentine sound, accompanied by the occasional hiss, appeared from behind the throne like chair the man sat on in the room, the only piece of furniture. The man would arrive first, the serpent mere moments later.

True the man's estimation, the footsteps quickly slowed and stopped outside a makeshift door, built by the man himself when claiming the room one month prior, before the serpent had arrived.

The door was necessary. It wouldn't to allow anyone to walk in when they wanted. They had to be called, summoned.

Three short bursts of noise reverberated in the room. Knocks.

“Enter.” The man replied instantly. He was impatient. It was time to move on.

Abiding the order, a second person entered the room, closing the door behind them. The second person held themselves proudly, all features covered by a large cloak adorned with a hood, all black.

Several more footsteps echoed throughout the room as the second person crossed the small room and, reaching an unmarked line between leader and subordinate, stopped and bowed.

“Are the preparations done?” asked the man neutrally.

“Yes, My Lord.” A distinctly feminine voice replied. However there was an undercurrent of something else, something darker in the voice.

“The target is the wand the boy has.” The man said in same emotionless voice. “It must be destroyed.” The female did not react externally, only by force of habit around this man, to this news.


“This task is to undertaken swiftly and without complications.” The man ordered. Then his voice changed, a small hint of amusement entering it. “That means no unnecessary deaths, Bella.”

“Of course, My Lord,” Bellatrix replied tight lipped, resisting an urge to complain. Sensing that urge, Voldemort laughed a humorless, cruel, daunting laugh.

“Attacking the Express is a dawn of a new era, Bella.” Voldemort began, taunting. “Surely you can hold your urges for one day?”

Bella huffed out a response, before realizing her place and stiffened quickly, standing at attention.

“The boy will be mine, Bella,” said Voldemort with the utmost confidence in his voice. “The old man can only protect the boy for so long.” Then he an emotionless smirk, he added, “And that time is drawing ever nearer.”

Bella, still, did not react. She knew of the plan and believed it would fail. The Malfoy child was a waste of her Master's, and her own, time. Lucius spent many a day bragging about his up and coming son, who would surely rise in the Death Eater ranks quickly. Nothing made the pureblood prouder than his dreams for his only son.

This opinion was not shared throughout the Death Eater ranks. Bella herself only dealt with the boy on her Master's orders and no reasons more. Teaching him Occlumency would ensure his thoughts were kept his thoughts from the old man at Hogwarts, but that did not mean his own fat mouth wouldn't give him, and his mission, away.

It was a disgrace to give him the Dark Mark. One time it was a mark for only the true believers, the strongest and most dedicated of her Master's allies. Now it was reduced to a sixteen year old child's plaything, a mere present.

Snape's Unbreakable Vow had been an unexpected twist. His loyalty was not assured, however it had been proven to some extent by that act. Perhaps that was his purpose. Perhaps not.

Without any other complication, it would come down to Snape and which side he was on in Bella's mind. Would he die for Dumbledore or kill Dumbledore for the Dark Lord?

“Understood.” Bella repeated.

“We shall rendezvous in Edinburgh once the mission is complete.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Good. Now, hurry off. We mustn't keep the boy waiting.”

Bella nodded, about faced and let herself out of the room.

The man still sat, unmoving, unfeeling.

The disaster of the Department of Mysteries was a great blow. The boy and five schoolyard allies had managed to last nearly thirty full minutes against twelve of his more experienced and powerful Death Eaters. It was an embarrassment that led to eleven out of twelve of his Death Eaters to end up in Azkaban. That would not be a problem forever, after all, if that Black could escape, so could his minions.

That wand of the boy's, the wand that shared a phoenix tail feather core with his own, was a problem. That unexpected development and a considerable amount of luck had kept Potter alive for five years. Yet that luck would not last. Removing that wand from the picture would aid his efforts enormously, that was why he was sending out one of his last remaining must trusted, powerful allies to retrieve and destroy the wand with two newer recruits as backup.

A captured and tortured Auror cadet had revealed information to aid his cause. It was abominable that, despite the threat he posed to the Ministry, Platform 9 ¾ would be so poorly guarded. Two Aurors mingling with the Muggle's on the Muggle side of the barrier?

Then again the five raids he had sent out the previous night were meant to act as a distraction. Most of the Aurors would be too preoccupied dealing with the losses from those attacks to expect something on the Express today.

Voldemort rose from his chair with no visible movement from his muscles.

Let us find ourselves a new home, Nagini.” Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue.

The serpent hissed out a positive response. A second later it appeared from underneath the cloak of the man. During the brief meeting the Bellatrix, it had swiftly, soundlessly climbed up its Master's body for protection and simple travel. It knew its Master tired of this place and did not wish for him to have a reason to stay here longer than necessary.

Soundlessly the man crossed the room and, giving it one last examination, left.

Four days past before the next sign of life would appear in the room. A small, adventurous rat peaked out from one of the many cracks in the wall. Seeing nothing, it entered and searched the new area hurriedly, excitedly.

Another day passed and another three would join the first, each taking a liking to the spot.

Within a week there would be dozens and within a fortnight hundreds of vermin in the room and its surroundings. With the predator gone, it was theirs to claim again.

The population would surge again over the coming weeks until the numbers would equal that of before the man and his creature arrived.

In the minds of the vermin, the time when they felt great fear from a far superior, strange being would quickly pass and be forgotten. No evidence of the presence of man and creature was ever left behind.