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CHAPTER ONE:
ALEKSANDER MANSION
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Aleksander Mansion was being used as the new headquarters for the Death Eaters and followers of Runskin.
Originally, he had spent the last six months in an island off the coast of Norwich. It was the equivalent of Azkaban and he designed it to be that way. After he was set free into the world he spent many of those months preparing the castle upon the hill. It was secluded from the world, far out into the sea. There were protective boards all around it preventing anyone he did not want to enter it, entering. He made it the perfect place. It was so far out into the sea, no one would ever come there and see it, no one would be able to hear the screams from the people there. It was perfect.
However, because of some recent bothersome events, he now had to return to England.
Aleksander Mansion hadn't been occupied in over eight months. The gates were closed up and moss was growing around the house, the grass hadn't been cut and all the house elves had either died in the basement or ran away. The bedrooms were all empty and cobwebs lingered in every single room of the house. Now, it was regularly occupied. It had been Runskin's idea - naturally - he offered it as a welcoming with Voldemort when they decided to join alliances. The Mansion had gone through generations of his family, it was his.
Voldemort and Runskin joining alliances hadn't been unforeseen. If anything it was expected of their followers.
The two of them had a similar goal: stop the one who could potentially destroy them.
"Voldemort," Runskin greeted, walking into the Dining room. Across the table, there were several people - one of which included Draco Malfoy and Felicity Sweetington - who all had been called on by him. The Dark Lord who they had all been waiting for sits down at the opposite end of the table. "I am pleased you could make it. Now that we're all here, I have some important news."
It had been almost ten days since Aurora escaped from his grasp.
In those days, he could not sense her magic or could he feel her presence. She was out there somewhere but he had no idea where. He had hundreds of his followers searching for her, but she still hadn't been found. She was hiding.
He knew she had not been with her parents: he had read her thoughts constantly after she met with them, the girl felt terror at the thought of them just like he planned.
