Judgement Day (Hogwarts Mystery Year 7 Retell)

Chapter 10: The Negotiation Table.

"Negotiation is not a policy. It's a technique. It's something you use when it's to your advantage, and something that you don't use when it's not to your advantage." - John Bolton.

12 Years Earlier. The Height of the First Wizarding War.

Knockturn Alley was becoming a Nesting Ground for Dark Witches and Wizards. There was a run down tavern inside the Alley. And Iosef Trotsky found himself at the Tavern drinking from a cup. 

"Get me another one." Trotsky commanded the Bartender.

"Whatever, Man." The Bartender muttered. He took out his wand and made ale appear out of the cup.

But Trotsky knew what day it was. It was what should've been his daughter's birthday. "Make a wish, Ksenia." He said to himself as he looked at his daughters wand. 

That was when a figure walked through the door. Every Dark Witch and Wizard turned their eyes as the figure made his way to the bar area. And that figure was none other than Voldemort himself.

"Lord Voldemort." The Bartender said practically speechless.

"Drink." Voldemort Commanded.

"Of course sir." The Bartender poured him a drink.

Voldemort handed it to Trotsky.

Trotsky looked at Voldemort intrigued. "You must command a lot of respect, if you can come in like that and people give what you want." Trotsky thought. "So why give it to me?"

"I thought we'd speak like civilized people." Voldemort answered. "I've heard tales. Tales of a Ukrainian village, burned to the ground by Muggles. Not long after that, a man carrying two wands decimates and entire Soviet Army. And then he disappears just like that." He started. 

"Don't believe everything you hear." Trotsky replied taking another swig.

"And yet here you are." Voldemort shot back. "In a skulked down place like this." He continued to go on as Trotsky finished drowning his throat in the drink. "I've also heard of the terrible mismanagement that the Russian Ministry of Magic did when you told them of your situation."

"Gutless Dogs." Trotsky growled. 

Voldemort forged ahead. "Do you know what I see, Mr. Trotsky? I see a man who's lost everything. Who wants to reforge the world into the way it should be. I see... a killer. I have an offer for you."

Trotsky looked up at Voldemort.

"I see a world where Witches and Wizards can live as themselves, free to use their magic whenever they choose. A world without Muggles. There is no good or evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Muggles have done nothing but abuse their power to keep us weak and from our true potential. And I know you feel the same. Join me, and you will have your revenge on the Muggle abomination. Kill the Parasite." Voldemort suggested.

"You want me to join The Death Eaters?" Trotsky asked. And how did Voldemort know about the philosophy that Trotsky had on Muggles? Unless they weren't that different from each other. He looked at his daughter's wand again. He could hear little Ksenia's voice inside of it.

Trotsky stood up and looked at Voldemort. "I have one condition." He requested.

Voldemort gave an evil smile. "Name it."

"Allow me the honor of leading the purge against the Muggles from this earth so my wife and daughter can know true peace." Trotsky named it.

"Take the Dark Mark. And you have a deal." Voldemort replied.