"You run from death, yet court it when you approach me, trash? Come then, let me share some pointers with you"

 

"remember our house, opulent and imperial. It is an abomination! Return to your home, claim your birthright."
"What is it James?" Lily asked, as the marauders and her went through the home.
"It just stops, the rest of the letter is burned. But it has a key, and a map. Shall we go explore an old family mansion?"

Marauders go exploring the darkest dungeon.

 

https://www.rawstory.com/raw-investigates/ivan-raiklin/

Trump’s ‘secretary of retribution’ has a ‘target list’ of 350 people he wants arrested

Of course that's not a great idea for Trump, but I love the idea of a Voldemort administration in Wizarding Britain having a secretary of retribution. Well it's Britain so I guess it would be minister of retribution.

 

Voldemort to the Rescue!!

Had an idea for a fic where some major threat appears to all life on Earth, aliens, dimensional being or whatever and Voldemort becomes the person who the world turns to because he’s the only one powerful enough to fight back.

 

Getting rid of my urge to wrestle Dark Souls into everything through this thread:

//

It had begun with a psycho swordsman in the Diagon Alley.

One moment Harry and his family were heading towards the Ollivanders, to get a wand for his younger sister, and then next there was this massive man striding towards them, unsheathing his heavily chirped and stained by blood greatsword.

His chest as wide as a barrel, his long and thin gray hair falling from his red hood, the man was bound Harry’s way with a long gray beard trembling in an emotion so thick Harry shouted by instinct alone.

“What is that?” he asked in a hoarse, throaty voice, pointing at Iris. “Hand it over. That thing, your dark soul. For my lady’s painting.”

But the rest of the Alley, and Harry’s parents beside would not give their Girl-Who-Lived without a fight, and what a fight it had been. In the mere beginning moments of it, Harry was violently pushed at the reinforced glass of the Ollivanders, and slumped beneath it, barely keeping himself from fainting.

The swordsman wasn’t idle. From beneath his ragged cloak he pulled out a savage-looking crossbow that fired bolts as fast as Harry could fire spells, his greatsword catching spells and rendering them useless, and all the while his wide and mad eyes never left Iris. Thunders gathered high above him, striking a perimeter around him at random, a cloud of filth mudding the air around him.

“Give it over,” he roared, over and over again, as the wizards slowly but surely overcame him, as for each one he felled, there were two more to take their place, and by the time aurors arrived at the scene, there was only bloody red hood left behind.

The healer came for Harry later, and cleared him soon enough, instead joining the crowd fussing over Iris. Harry followed them. She was a tiny thing, his sister, with wavy red hair cascading down her shoulders, and with a pale narrow face. Her green eyes found his own, so alike most of the time, but not at that moment. The swordsman was after his sister's soul, for some reason.

Her dark soul. Mad he may be, but Harry was sure he didn’t imagine it. There was something beyond Iris’s eyes, for a flicker, a shade of as red as the swordsman’s hood, as red as the blood on his sword.

//

Main themes would be something like: Harry becomes obsessed with finding out about the dark soul, and then maybe exploring corruptions through research. I've no idea how this ties to the major HP plot; mainly Voldemort