It was supposed to be a simple operation, an ambush, like they had done multiple times in the last war, only the target would be none other than Harry Potter.
"He has changed." was what Lucius' boy had said, a look of fear on his face. Had said that ever since that Tri-Wizard Tournament, where Harry Potter went from an akward semi-competent wizard, to a ruthless, efficient one with little mercy for those he saw as enemies.
"He didn't use his wand." Was what had been said when he broke young Malfoy's hand when the foolish boy had tried to touch his Yule date.
Potter's date. The Veela girl, an afterthought at first, thought to be wanting to use the boy's fame, or just wanting a friend, but it was reported they were very close, would disappear at times and keep secrets even from Potter's supposed friends.
He should've known something was up, ever since it was Diggory who appeared with the Cup that night, but as always, his hubris got the better of him.
He should've cancelled and apparated away as soon as he saw the vicious smile on the boy's face and the gleam of victory and bloodlust is his...weren't they green, why are they yellow?
Even Voldemort was surprised when the first thing Harry did was laugh and the throw his hand to the side and splatter Mulciber on the wall with enough force to crack it.
He wasn't holding a wand.
They didn't expect him to pull out a sword made out of red fire and cut Rabastan's head off in a single move or use it to deflect Yaxley's curse back at Flint.
It was all falling down, the boy was dodging curses as if he knew where they would come from before they were fired, Bellatrix caught him with Crucio, but the boy laughed like a lunatic and with his bare hand fried her with some kind of purple lightning.
A gesture, and Rudolphus' spine was split in two.
Darkness cloyed around Potter like a cloak, as if he was being guided by it in a deadly dance while he spun and sidestepped everything they sent at him, at times using them as shields, pulling them in front of him with a gesture or others cutting them where they stood. The close quarters of that alley should've been their advantage, not his.
His followers were lost to fear, so Lord Voldermort acted, he threw around wide area curses and for the first time something fazed the boy, his face cut by debris from an exploding curse, and then his smile was back, he screamed, and even Voldemort had tried to cover his ears as an unnatural sound reverberated through the walls and made the shadows dance.
Potter jumped, his sword pointed forward while he spun in the air, Dolohov fell to it, cut in two and Lucius was ran through, Voldemort recovered and went to cast, but, in a flash of red light, he had no wand, and no hand either.
Before he could scream, he felt something close on his throat, making him gasp, and then he was pressed to the wall, looking into Potter's now definitely yellow eyes, full of hatred, anger, and...anticipation.
Potter had a terrible smile on his face, his eyes burned as if twin flames, his hand was up as if he was the one holding Voldemort to the wall. The burning sensation in his left arm told him his left hand had been cut off too.
He didn't even speak with him, turning back to the entrance and speaking over his shoulder. "It's done, My Master."
The way he said that, with an almost loving inflection, made Voldemort distinctly alert, whoever someone like this boy would call Master was...
Clapping interrupted his thoughts as he looked towards the entrance to the alley, the pain of his cut-off hands was well under control with his Occlumency, now he had to find out how Potter had gotten those powers, and then he saw them.
One he recognized immediately, the Veela girl, Potter's lover, he had been told. Dressed in black robes, her hair in a ponytail while she half-ran towards the boy and kissed him fiercely, but it wasn't her his attention was drawn to, but to the woman that was clapping with a cruel smile.
She was dressed in white and gold, with hints of red here and there, her hair as silver as the girl's and with the same yellow, no, gold eyes, that he now noticed all three shared, the woman, taller than the two teens, walked towards him with the gait of a queen, the grace of a predator, shadows flowed around her as if cloth and liquid, the darkness almost dancing, her eyes had red rims around the gold in them, and they showed a much too cruel amusement.
"So, this is the current, supposed Dark Lord, of this planet." She said with a cruel laugh, "What a pitiful excuse, you have no right to use that title, Tom Riddle, and you're lucky," the way she said that said he was anything but, "that of my...Order I was the one who came upon you on this backwards world, my...associates would be much less merciful than I."
Voldemort snarled at her, wanting them to be done so he could seek about to make his return at some other time, he knew her type and that he wouldn't get anything useful from this conversation.
"Why, already wanting to leave my presence? I am impressed, most delight in it, and can't think of going away, well except for young Harry, who's surprisingly resistant to my charm, it's why we like him so much, well me at least, I am sure my granddaughter has other reasons."
Voldemort barely noticed the girl blush, or the familial connection, being too distracted by the fact the woman had read his completely Occluded mind.
"Oh, you think that protects your mind, how quaint, yours is a disciplined mind, child, but as I tell my Apprentices, there are many ways to bake a cake."
She laughed as she pulled out an object from her robes, a large prism, made of some kind of dark red glassy material.
"I am also aware of your little soul anchors, such a creative solution." she said, her words dripping sarcasm, "I can't recall no one of my Order who did so many of them, though. Not that it will help you, you see, Tom, we have ways to deal with that, ways that made some who thought of doing it, reconsider"
The object floated in her hand, beginning to glow with an unearthly red light and putting all three of those in front of him in sharp relief, making Voldemort feel fear for the first time that night.
"What I can say, Tom, is that you're going to be a very good teaching opportunity for my Apprentices" She laughed softly and smiled, and Voldemort paled at how truly cruel she looked then.
"Harry, Do It."
There was a hum and a flash, and Voldemort saw the world spin, before he felt the now almost familiar sensation of the horcrux magic making his wraith abandon his body. He tried to leave, to fly away from whatever that was, but a terrible force pulled him to it, tendrils of red energy spun around his misty form and dragged him inside the object.
"See, Harry and Fleur, that's how you trap the essence of some fool who has tied themselves to this plane through an object, or objects in this case."
Harry looked at the object for a few moments, as if committing it to memory, before looking up at his Master and nodding, squeezing back Fleur's hand as she grabbed his in support.
"Good, now, let's leave this planet, I tire of their backward technology and even worse people, it was charming a century or so ago, but now, the galaxy calls for us."
She turned to leave, holding the now glowing object, a misty substance encased in it, as her two Apprentices followed after her, hand in hand.
"I wonder what that old Muun is up to now."