Voldemort was waiting

Voldemort was waiting. But Harry Potter did not come. Finally, Voldemort knew that the boy wouldn't come. He had known it all along. "Should we move on to the castle?" asked a teary Narcissa. But he told her no. She didn't care about the castle. She didn't want to win the war. She only wanted her son. Voldemort never understood the bond between mother and son. Until now.


Rachel was smiling, though the day was gloomy and gray. She had just received a gorgeous bouquet of roses, twelve of them, all complete and breathtakingly beautiful. She had thought, "Who would send me these?" Then, she noticed the card.

To the most beautiful woman I have ever met,

Mr. Riddle