riddle me this ! harry potter

[ray3]

This were sane. A little too sane, in the little group of surviving Death Eaters, and as much as it pained him, Sethos had to admit that he was rather bored. These people cared too much about leaving a fingerprint. They were too cautious about being caught. That was not how Sethos lived. He would rather slaughter a dozen people, and have his signature graffiti all over the chosen room, so that everyone would know that it was he who had done it. So, after only three days of doing absolutely nothing, Sethos decided he was better off alone. Although, he did round up a few younger, less experienced men who desired power, and they obviously felt that Sethos would be the right man to give it to them. But of course, they would surely die at one point. They were all going to be a bunch of 'small-timers'. But they were of good use to him, no doubt. They were like his own puppets. He controlled them. He had power.

But for now, Sethos was quite alone. But he had a few trustworthy companions he liked to call dynamite. And gunpowder. And of course, his wand. But Sethos did not rely on his magical ability. He was skilled, yes. But he had no patience for magic.

The night had stretched on for too long. Well, it seemed that way. It was approaching three o'clock, and Diagon Alley was more of a ghost town than a market. Yes, the cobbled streets seemed to change dramatically from day to night. No-one dared to leave the safety of their homes, and anyone who had o comfort of shelter would hide in the shadows, easing into the darkness of insanity day by day. Sethos was more than attracted to these sort of people. Their crazed minds wouldn't care for any human being. They wouldn't care for anything. Much like Sethos. He walked swiftly down the street, with slow, defining footsteps, to show everyone that someone was lurking around. He liked to build the tension. He was here to meet someone. Someone whom he'd grown rather fond of. That person had his name in history books, for killing the ultimate Dark Wizard of all time. Well, Sethos was no dark Wizard, but he'd certianly be having fun with Harry Potter.

The air was deadened by his presence. Not one person dared to even peek out of their curtians, but Sethos noticed a few rushing shiloettes behind closed curtians. Sethos snorted, but pressed on. He decided, for once, not to cause a scene, but he did kick aside a body. The man on the ground was not dead, but he had passed out. The stench of alcohol was slightly overwhelming, but Sethos merely sighed and stopped in a small square. This would be a nice place to meet someone with such high status. Sethos nodded to himself and turned around, from where he'd just come from.

[harrypotter]

Harry Potter walked down the darken alley, his steps slow and calm. It was three o' clock in the morning, or so it said on the watch Rom's mother had given him such a long time ago. It was tradition, they said, to give a wizard a watch when he became a man. To him though it was rather silly, but, growing up with muggles for the first eleven years of your life made a lot of things in the wizarding world seem silly. One of those things happened to be on the sign that he was approaching. Muggle Artifacts sold here, the sign had read in big flashing letters, no doubt charmed to do so.

His thoughts though instantly returned from memories of the past to his thoughts here in the present, as he continued to walk down the cold, stone cobbled alley way. What was Harry James Potter doing here at three o' clock in the morning? well, even he didn't quite know that answer. His family was falling apart before his very eyes. Ginny was never around hardly, Lily had gotten herself in a mess of trouble, and he hadn't heard from his other three kids in almost a year now! How could he become so irresponsible as a father? No, no, no. The little voice in his head had popped up. You're not a bad father, this is just things that happen to any other family. Right? He should have known it would of happened to him, being so famous still for doing something almost Thirty-five years ago.

He continued to walk, seeing faces peer out the windows at him, muttering softly under their breaths. He could tell they had noticed who he was. He figured the scar had tipped them off. That, and now he looked just like his father, minus his eyes that are the same almond shaped green as his mothers had been once upon a time. He had finally reached a little square, coming from the west end of it. Up ahead he could see a figure in the dim moonlight, turned and facing a darkened alley. Harry looked over his shoulder to see the alley behind him still full of light. He continued to walk though, facing his head back forward toward the figure, his hands still buried deep in his pockets, though his right hand now touched the famous wand that had survived two out of three attack from the old Dark Lord.