Collected

Little Hangleton

There was a dilapidated house on a small hill-- old shutters closed, boards rotting, shingles falling from the roof. It had remained vacant for years until now.

Now, three men occupied the top floor, or perhaps, two and half men did.

One was a portly fellow, dirty and balding with long yellow nails and a simpering look about him.

The second was just as dirty, with matted brown hair and a face that hadn't been washed in far too long. He was dressed in a large coat, which was still damp from his journey. He looked to the third man with a bright expression, eager for orders.

The form sitting in the chair, that both looked upon with the utmost respect, wasn't much of a man. He was more of an overgrown, grey fetus, really. His skin was thin, stretched over his brittle bones, and a sheen of sweat seemed to cover him at all times. He was extremely weak, with a rasping, breathy voice that was nothing like it used to be.

This was Lord Voldemort, the most feared wizard of the world. This was what he was reduced to.

"The school, you want me at the school?" The dark-haired man asked, and Voldemort barely nodded.

"It is where the boy is. You will... find a way to infiltrate. Find a way... to bring him here."

"Yes, my Lord. While I'm there, though, I do have on request." He grew excited, just thinking about it.

The sickly man gave a short, cold laugh. "The girl... You wish to see her."

"Yes, but as myself, not in whatever disguise I must wear."

Beside him, Peter Pettigrew let out a worried, "My Lord, can we--"

"Silence, Wormtail." He blinked, then turned back to the man he was originally talking to, the one who had returned to him not from fear, but respect. "You observe her," he breathed. "And, if you believe... she is trustworthy, you will... alert me, and I... will make a decision."

It wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for, but he would make it work.

With an obedient nod, the man stood to leave. He had quite a bit of planning to do, but it would all be worth it because in the end, not only would the Dark Lord rise to power, but he would have his Isola back.



Hogwarts, Fourth Year

The warm, Slytherin common room was welcoming to Isola on the first night in, especially after such a raucous feast. All anyone could talk about was the Twiwizard tournament, who would be putting their name into the Goblet of Fire, who the best contestants would be, and so on. Honestly, the brunette didn't care about any of it. She just wanted to get through the year with no mishaps, no ridiculous antics from Harry bloody Potter and his two friends, no nothing. Just one ordinary school year was all she was asking for. Ordinary by her standards, of course.

The faces within the aforementioned common room, however, were not very welcoming, or maybe they were just too welcoming. Not only was every annoying First Year cluttering up the place, but Draco and Weiss were both waiting for her.

She had evaded both of them on the train just by sitting in an empty compartment in Hufflepuff territory, knowing that none of them would bother her, and at lunch, she sat next to Blaise Zabini instead of the others.

The two boys she sometimes called her friends had been especially annoying over the past year, Weiss convincing himself that he was absolutely in love with Isola and doing everything in his power to seduce her. It wasn't working of course, though sometimes, it did get her to laugh.

Draco, on the other hand, was just his normal, prick self, with a few instances of tenderness sprinkled about, just enough to show her that he actually cared for her as a human being. Isola didn't do care, though. She didn't particularly care for either of the boys or anyone in her house. She didn't really care for Amycus or Alecto, and she didn't really want any of them caring for her. It was all so human.

Plus, the blonde boy had accidentally shown his soft side for Isola while that awful Pansy Parkinson was around, and since then, she hadn't stopped hounding Isola about their relationship, or lack thereof.

"You didn't sit with us," Weiss immediately started, shoving some unnaturally grey hair out of his face. "Are you avoiding us?"

"Yes," Isola answered honestly as she immediately started making her way to the Fourth Year girls' dormitories.

"Well, why?" He pressed, catching her arm so that she slapped his hand harshly.

"Because I want to."

"Why?" He was like a toddler.

"Because you irritate me, Macnair."

He frowned, and Isola began her march up to the dorm, hearing the boy splutter for a comeback before trying to follow her up. Of course, the staircase wouldn't permit that, and he ended up slipping down the bottom steps, which had turned into a small slide.

Isola laughed cruelly, turning back and winking smoothly before continuing her ascent, barely able to hear Draco chuckle and say, "Just leave her, Weiss. She'll come around."

She was the first to her bunk, the dormitory void of any of the other girls which was great. The brunette changed out of her school uniform and into her pajamas, which really just consisted of an oversized shirt. She grabbed her Potions textbook, tossing it on her bed, then slipped under the covers.

Isola reviewed her timetable in her head. She had Potions, Charms, and Astronomy tomorrow, then Transfiguration, Care for Magical Creatures, and Herbology the day after. She didn't really care about any of those subjects, though. The course that Isola was anticipating most was Defense Against the Dark Arts with the new professor, though Slytherins shared the class with those damned Gryffindors. She shook her head at the thought of Alastor Moody, one of the best Aurors in the Wizarding World, teaching a class at Hogwarts. Just seeing him from a distance made her skin crawl, and his sudden, brash entrance to the school earlier that evening did nothing to help matters. He had stood the entire feast, a little lopsided due to his different legs, with that strange eye of his spinning madly while the other seemed to search for something or someone. It was more than unnerving. That man had put several Death Eaters into Azkaban, and Isola was less than thrilled at having to sit through a class taught by him.

With an annoyed sigh, she opened the textbook, reviewing the first few chapters until the other Fourth Year girls decided to come in all at once.

All of them looked to Isola, one, Ramsay Latkin, greeting her and earning no response while Pansy just sneered and asked in a fake interested voice, "How was your summer, Izzy?"

The brunette rolled her eyes as she skimmed the page, replying with a simple, "Dismal."

"Well, what did you do?"

Isola knew exactly where she was going with this. "Mostly, I practiced my hexes so that they'll be perfect when I use them on people who annoy me."

"Did you spend any time with Draco?" And, there it was.

Isola dropped the book into her lap and performed what was probably the most exaggerated eye roll in all of history. "Yes, Pansy, I saw your precious Draco Malfoy, and he was every bit as irritating and arrogant as he always is."

She didn't seem satisfied with the answer given, but she did stop talking, which was a huge plus in Isola's eyes. The girls all changed into their pajamas, getting ready for bed as it was nearing eleven o'clock. They chatted in the darkened room for some time, mostly about the Triwizard tournament, but it eventually dissolved into petty subjects such as how fit some of the Durmstrang boys were and how awful the Beauxbatons girls seemed. It was all rather ridiculous and made Isola pray for an early death. This wish was not granted, however, so she settled for turning on her side and putting a pillow over her head.



Moria Sloan was proabbly the only person that hardly ever annoyed Isola. She was a Sixth Year Slytherin and was very similar to the brunette in the way that she hated everyone at Hogwarts. The girl could be a little manic at times, and she reminded Isola so much of Bellatrix Lestrange, it was painful-- not just in personality, but in looks, too.

With untamable, curly brown hair, she was pale in complexion but wore dark makeup. She was known to be a flirt among the Slytherins, and was also known to be a bit creative in bed, but none of it bothered Isola. Moria was hysterical and smart, able to talk her way out of bad situations. She also took part in what Isola called Gryffindor Target Practice, and the two girls often found themselves in the Astronomy tower, aiming their wands at the small little blips of red and gold. Neither of her parents had been Death Eaters, but Moria was more than ready to become one herself, once the Dark Lord was found, and he would be found.

Of course, they didn't have classes together, but they spent most of the breaks together, avoiding Weiss at all costs because him coming on to one girl was embarrassing enough. Doubling that only made him a laughing stock. If anything, they were doing him a favor.

The two sat together at breakfast, picking at their food, then went their separate ways. Isola didn't mind Potions, but she wasn't thrilled about having it first thing in the morning.

Once entering the cold, dungeon classroom and taking her seat, she almost groaned out loud when the grey-haired boy sat next to her, smirking in a cocky manner. "So, you feeling any better today?"

"I didn't feel bad yesterday."

"You were obviously suffering from some kind of fever, if you were pushing me away like you were."

Isola snorted, "No, that's honestly just the effect you have on me."

"Oh, come on, Is. Give me a little love!" He puckered his lips, and leaned close to her, causing the girl to hold out a hand and shove his face away as best she could.

"Mr. Macnair," Snape's baritone voice suddenly echoed throughout the now full classroom. "Might you remember me telling you that you were not to sit next to Miss Crouch in my class, or did you forget about the incident last year where you practically bathed her in Drought of the Living Dead?"

He held his hands up, chuckling nervously, and stepped away from the table. "Right, uh, I was just visiting, sir. I could never, uh, forget about that. Uh, yeah."

The Potions Master watched his retreat with black eyes, then turned to write something on the blackboard, and Isola remembered why she had always liked him as a professor. (He wasn't bad as a Death Eater, either). In the meantime, Draco seized the opportunity to claim the vacant seat next to her, and though he wasn't as terrible as Weiss, Isola still wasn't pleased.

"If you spill anything on me, I'll hex your balls into next year. Not you and your balls, just your balls. You will be ball-less for a year. Do I make myself clear?"

The blonde nodded, snickering. "Crystal."

It was mostly an introductory period, going over the textbook and reviewing where to find what Potions Ingredients. There was a bit of time to start brewing the first phase of Pepper-Up potion, and the class worked in near silence, just like every other Potions period, until Snape dismissed them.

Charms was uneventful save for Seamus Finnegan setting himself on fire, though, that was a rather normal occurrence. At lunch, Isola was taken hostage by Weiss and forced to sit with him, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. Thankfully, Moria, ever so observant, noticed this and took the seat next to her, making the whole situation a little less miserable.

Isola ignored the stares from other students at other tables. The Slytherins had quite a reputaion, and aside from that, the two brunette girls did, too. They were beautiful but fierce, and every so often, Isola would have some daring Gryffindor approach her in an attempt to save her from her black fate. This year was no any different as a Seventh Year boy walked up to her after their meal with what he probably thought was a charming smile.

"Isola, I just wanted you to know that if you need anyone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, anything, I'm here." As if waiting for the Dark Lord to return made her upset. The only thing she wanted to cry about was the fact that she was still going to a school full of inpurity.

He held out a hand, and the girl stared at it, then him, with a grimace. "I'm sorry, what was your name?" She honestly couldn't remember ever seeing him around.

With a crestfallen expression, the boy stuttered, and before he could manage to get anything more than a syllable out, Isola nodded and turned back around, walking to the Dungeons to wait for her Astronomy class.

"Gryffindors," she muttered with a roll of her eyes.

She spent most of her free time working on her first Potions essay of the year. Snape would assign one on the first day. She really had no reason to be surprised. Weiss sat next to her at the table, acting like he was working on his, but really, he just stared at her and occasionally asked to copy, to which she responded no every time.

Moria was in one of her classes, and Draco was up in the boys dorm, probably looking up ways to curse Harry Potter, blood-traitor Weasley, and the mudblood. The other Fourth Year girls eventually walked in, Pansy immediately turning to Isola and asking, "Where's Draco?"

She looked up with twitching green eyes, spitting out, "What do I look like, his bloody keeper? Find him yourself."

She huffed, whispering, "Bitch," under her breath and going on her little man-hunt.

Isola couldn't help her attitude. Being back at Hogwarts made her skin crawl, surrounded by all of this scum, and even the Purebloods got on her nerves. The presence of Dumbledore only made things worse, and now, she was expected to go to a class taught by Alastor Moody? Ridiculous. She would have even preferred the half-breed to him.

All the brunette truly wanted to do was get Astronomy over with and slide into bed so that she could just ignore the world for a bit longer.