A beautiful woman dressed in blood-red robes entered a dimly lit and sumptuously decorated room. Her oval face, big dark eyes and sandy hair made her look more gorgeous but her hands were not normal; she had a silver hand.
"Master!" The woman bowed looking at the armchair in front of the fireplace.
She was facing the armchair's back.
"Stormy!" exclaid a man's happy voice from the chair.
"How are you feeling, now?" The woman, Stormy asked seriously.
"A lot well than before," said the man and turned his armchair slightly so he can see Stormy.
The man was almost bald with a few white hairs, his skin looked like crumpled thin paper and the only prominent feature in his face was his pather-like-yellow eyes. Otherwise, he looked like a dead body.
"That's great, master," Stormy said then stepped forward a little bit and waved her wand. "I did as you ask to. The dark lord has finally given the authority to investigate the Azkaban problem. No one of his followers could found why the Dentors are not coming to the dark lord's side."
"I hoped that much," Malgino smiled. "Now, you will reveal the big secret of our teenage friend, as planned."
"Yes master," Stormy nodded.
"But rember —" Malgino's face turned serious. "Do not forget, at any cost, my friend should not know how much our presence had changed his future — how much we have changed his plans. He only should know the benefits of us — not the side effects."
"I rember, master," replied Stormy earnestly. "Anything else?"
"Yes, take out the body," Malgino pointed at the floor. "And give it to my creatures or Nagini, whoever you want."
Stormy looked down and saw on the dark floor there was man's body in a corner, surrounded by different signs and runes. Stormy nodded and waved her wand. The body floated in the air and Stormy saw a particular rune sign where the body was lying.
A straight line, the upper end was bent downwards and the lower end of the line was bent upwards. It was the death sign.
"Mr. Nott is not happy about these, master," said Stormy pointing at the body.
Amusent flickered across Malgino's pale face.
"If I didn't know better than I would have thought that you made a joke," laughed Malgino. "Speaking of Nott, how is his son doing? I didn't see him. He didn't co ho for Christmas, did he?"
Stormy looked like she strained herself from rolling her eyes.
"He didn't, master, and I think you know the reason. He is afraid that we will drag him into this, especially when his house had beco our headquarter. He doesn't want to participate."
"Weak souls," mused Malgino. "This is why I never liked those Slytherins, always thinking about saving their necks. Useless."
"But they are also important, are they not?" Stormy confessed. "Specifically when the mud-blood Norton is connected to them."
"Yes Stormy, that's my regret," Malgino said. "Everyone is important. . . Anyways, what about the master plan of my friend? Did he get any new plans to get that Prophecy?"
"Even after your advice, he is restless," Stormy hesitated just for a mont. "He had planned after his loyal followers break out from Azkaban, he will attack the Ministry with your army."
"Don't worry," Malgino smiled. "That is not going to happen until our wonderful Dumbledore is dead. Not even with my entire army. My friend will soon realise it. Life lesson, Stormy, do not underestimate your enemies, not even when your enemy is a fourteen years old little girl."
"We should stop, Angelina. We can't practice like this," Chris shouted over the pouring rain in the Quidditch field.
The rain had started an hour ago and now was pouring heavily. Chris was having a lot of problems to look for the Snitch in that rain, not to ntion it will be dinner ti soon and she has to et Jason before that. He left the stands when the rain started.
After hesitating for few more minutes Angelina ended the practice. Chris ran towards the castle in her robes soaked and splattered with mud and water. Jason was waiting for her on the stairs.
"Not to lie but Weasley is really lousy," Jason laughed as Chris sat down beside him on the marble stairs.
"He is really self-conscious and he lacks in confidence," Chris said defiantly.
"Are you defending him, seriously?" Jason raised his eyebrows.
"Alright, he is not that great but we need him," Chris sighed.
"I don't think so," Jason grinned. "You were great."
"Thanks."
"Here," Jason pulled out a box from his bag and handed it to Chris. "Open it."
"What's this?" Chris took the box and looked at him surprised.
"Go on," Jason smiled.
Chris opened the box and took out a big glass orb from the box. Inside the orb white snow was falling over a boy and a girl, who were dancing. Chris peered closely. The boy was in deep green robes and was leading the dance gracefully. The girl was wearing a dark purple dress and she was laughing and twirling with him. Chris gasped as she saw the faces of that boy and girl.
"It's us!" Chris looked at Jason wide-eyed. "Is this for ?"
"No, it's for Weasley," Jason rolled his eyes smiling. "Of course, it's for you. Happy Valentine's Day."
"Jason, I — this is — you — it's beautiful," Chris breathed. "We were wearing these robes at the Yule Ball. Did you make it? How did you rember my look so well?"
"You were hard to forget," Jason smiled. "I bet almost everyone will agree that you looked great that day."
Chris smiled but then a thought struck her.
"But I didn't bring anything for you."
"It's alright," Jason smiled and tucked a wet lock away from Chris' face. "You should change though. You'll get cold otherwise."
But Chris was barely listening to him. Her brain was working furiously to get an idea for Valentine's gift. She also should do sothing special. But Jason told her what he needs.
"Just spend the next Hogsade trip with ," Jason said. "That's all. I will call Theodore too. We all can hang out. I really miss that."
"I promise," Chris kissed him on the cheek. "And thanks."
They walked into the Great Hall, hand in hand. Luna, Ginny, Hermione, Colin, Ron and Harry were sitting on the Gryffindor table. Ginny waved at Chris and Chris kissed Jason before walking towards the Gryffindor table.
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To be continued. . .
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