UPDATED A/N: This story was written in July 2004. Please keep in mind that at this point in the series we were left with Harry's last living relation being murdered. I am not exaggerating when I say I was DYING to know what was going to happen next (okay so I am exaggerating but you get the point). I couldn't believe I had to wait, Sirius was my favorite character. This is the result of trying to fill in the blanks myself. A crumb to hold me over. Sharing it with others has been an amazing experience. A dear friend will slowly (slooooowly) but surely do one last edit and slight rewrite to this story. there is no set pace, she is a busy new mommy. But if anyone is up to it, feel free to PM any type-o's you find to this account, she will surely appreciate the extra pairs of eyes.


A/N: I can't remember how long ago I wrote the 1st chapter to this, but I decided to pick up the rest of it, hopefully it will turn out to be what I want it to be. There's a few things I want y'all to know about first though.

It's already a little harder because the plot I have in mind takes place away from Hogwarts (GASP) which means I don't have as many people and settings already predetermined by the great and mighty Rowling, and I have to come up with some things all by myself. It's terrifying I know, but I'll try my best, and I hope you all will let me know how I am doing as far as setting the scene.

I should also let you know that I am taking some of my own initiative as far as developing characters we don't know much about (I give them made up 1st names and personalities, but I try to keep them as J.K. as I can). I am also doing something that can be quite dangerous: making up a few of my own characters. Eeek. I hope they don't suck too bad.

Constructive criticism on these ventures will be greatly appreciated!!!

This is based after book 5 but they are all 18 or at least 17 going on 18, what they've been doing since 6th and 7th year will slowly be filled in.

I'm nervous posting these first parts because they're all I've got. I can see the ending in my mind its just getting there that will be hard and since I'm in and out of town a lot over the summer, updates may vary in speed, but never stop checking! You know I'll update as fast as I can.

As always, I love reviews of all kinds. They keep me going and they keep my writing less crappy, so if you're by chance feeling generous, don't hesitate to let me know what you really think! I'd really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this!


The eerie outline of the huge derelict house blackened the night sky. The townsfolk of Little Hangleton never ventured up the hill it was founded on to see it in any more detail than just a silhouette.

They said it was haunted, and judging by its damp, mangled remains it was easy to see why. Most of its windows and entrances had been boarded up, and wild vines grew unruly around it, like no one had really lived there for years.

The full account of what truly happened there has been lost in re-telling. Now, the story that the older children tell the littler ones tends to include an old evil gardener, with a hoe for a hand, who got away with murder years ago.

Who the victims were exactly the older children don't know, but, as the children say, the gardener killed three people with some mysterious poison that eludes coroners, leaving the cause of death to appear completely unknown.

The town was very angry that the officers didn't have enough evidence to convict the man, but when the old hermit gardener disappeared years later the town agreed he must have died without anyone noticing.

It is believed he haunts the old abandoned house so no one will be able to find where he hid his legendary poison and finally prove him guilty of his brutal cold blooded crimes.

When people poke their noses too close for his comfort, they are attacked by a huge vicious man-eating snake with evil yellow eyes that steal your soul!

The story works well enough to give the small children of the town nightmares for years, but the adults found it silly.

Any real life snake that large living on it's own in that part of the world was so absurd. It could never survive without an owner of some kind and no one is ever seen near or in the house.

The place itself is so creepy that despite the pure nonsense of a story containing unheard of lethal and undetectable poisons and monstrous snakes, the numerous stories, incidents, encounters and overall ghostly vibes of the estate leads adults as well as children of all ages to avoid the frightening house at all costs.

Two of the Dark Lord's favorite things; complete privacy and people terrified out of their wits.

Fear, he found, was the easiest way to control people. With everyone in Little Hangleton too scared to come up to the house, he was free to go about other prevalent matters at his own leisure without worry of interruption.

On one otherwise unimportant night, a stern looking middle-aged man suddenly apparated into the old ramshackle house's foyer. It had been storming that evening, and when light managed to find a way in through the boarded windows the entryway was lit up with lightening. The man could see that it was empty, with dust piles and uncountable cobwebs in every corner.

He had seen it before; he had been there numerous times. He was never seen by the townspeople, of course, because of an anti-revealing charm placed on the structure. This part of the house was, as thought, completely deserted and unused. The important things all happened below.

Looking particularly foul, even for him, he waited impatiently for the owner of the footsteps he heard clunking up the old moldy staircase behind the basement door to appear.

It creaked open slowly and loudly.

"Who goes there?" said a gruff voice.

"Bloody hell Crabbe, you know perfectly well who this is, now hurry up I want to get this over with."

"Aye, sir, I apologize ….must be sure, Master's orders…"

"And what exactly would you do if you found me to be unwelcome Crabbe?" the man laughed cruelly, "beat me in a duel?" He didn't wait for a reply, "Hurry now, you're wasting my time."

Crabbe opened the door all the way now and beckoned the man to follow. Upon reaching the basement they walked to the darkest, furthest corner of the dodgy cellar. Crabbe tapped on the cold stone bricks in just the right order and suddenly the wall began deteriorating. Magically, an archway appeared, leading to yet another large long staircase. Not at all derelict like the previous one, this one was made of fine black stone and whirled downward, aligned on the walls were torches.

Crabbe led the man deep, deep underground until they came to a great opening with an extremely high vaulted ceiling. It appeared now, that they were in the main hall of a giant underground mansion. The walls were adorned with ancient paintings and tapestries and above them was a huge chandelier made of fine black crystal. The house was over all cold, dark and gothic, but beautiful and clean none the less. Centered in front of them was two immensely tall french-doors, black as night, with the skull remains of heads so tiny there was no doubt they were shrunken as door knobs, and two gargoyle door knockers.

"Did you wish to see him?" asked Crabbe.

His mind's eye flashed with the memory of the last conversations he had with the person residing on the other side of those doors….

… … …"As one of my most loyal subjects," said that cold firm voice, "I trust I can count on your blind obedience in my most recent endeavors. I know the details are vague to you but your faithfulness in me should be reason enough to go about my orders correct?"

"Yes my Lord, of course, but I still don't understand…"

"Enough!" yelled the voice, "Not everything is for you to understand right now. All you need to know is that it is for the good of all of us in reaching our goal, and that it is my will. Is that perfectly understood?"

"Yes my Lord. It shall be done." The man said………

"No. Not today. He knows I'm only here to collect what he asks of me," was all that was replied.

"Very well then, it's this way." Crabbe started walking again down one of the numerous dark hallways that extended off of the great circular first room. The man followed hastily, his long black cape and long white hair flowing behind him.

They descended deeper into the earth and took many twists and turns until at last they stopped at a square metal door. Crabbe fumbled with his key ring in the dim light, finally finding what he was looking for, stuck into the keyhole with loud clanks and at last a deafening squeal of the door as he pushed it open with all his strength.

Before them now was a long narrow walkway and to the left and to the right of them, jail cells. Jail cells occupied with various different prisoners, all looking equally disdainful, some more energetic and alert than others. The ones lying still, too weak and unable to respond to their entrance, had surely been there the longest.

"Just down here now…" lured Crabbe as the two walked past the prisoners. The man responded to both the cold hateful and delusionally hopeful stares with sneers of disgust. His resentment was building inside of him now.

He didn't know why he was being asked to do this. Never would he even for a second want to do this on his own accord. And his own son… the risk of his own prestigious name, his reputation… How would he be able to stand being known as a muggle-lover??

I better be bloody rewarded for this, thought the man bitterly.

Crabbe stopped before the second to last cell on the left. The man looked in on the occupant. An incredibly skinny and dirty young woman laid there. Clothed only in brown remnants of a robe, now just tattered rags, and with the majority of her matted hair covering her face. She slept on the cold stone floor, curled up in a ball.

Lucius Malfoy flinched at the sight of her. "Filthy mudblood," he uttered harshly.