After days of proper recovery and preparation, the Dark Lord now was standing outside the very building that held the majority of his most gifted and most loyal followers. Flanking him were Barty and Ashley, the former on his left and the latter, his right. They were dressed quite casually, just simple black robes, all except for Tom who Ashley thought for sure didn’t know how to do such a thing. In his defense, he had a reputation to uphold. Hell would have to freeze over before he let the prison guards see him as anything less than a powerful Dark Lord, never mind that those guards would be dead soon enough. It was the thought that counted.