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one word of power that would change him back to his true form where he would be vulnerable to death.  Only one demon knew the word, and Tom destroyed that demon and ate its soul.  He was more than the most terrible wizard the world had ever known; he was invincible. 
                His true countenance was a horror that men shrank from.  Why even the odors he made were powerful enough to kill flowers and small animals, and strike fear into any living man.  He had reached the pinnacle of his power and repulsion.  It was at this point that he decided to rearrange the letters of his name, Tom Farisol Riddly, to spell “I is Lord Moldyfart.”  It was a name more suited to a being of his awfulness, a name that people would fear to speak, lest the Fart Lord harken to their unwanted call, and answer like a spoken doom.
                He was ready for his enemy, and still his unknown enemy did not come.  He began to fear that his hideous reputation had preceded him, scaring his foe away.  Then it occurred to him that if he could find out who his enemy was, perhaps he could find and destroy his foe, possibly while he or she was weak and unready to face his mighty wrath.  He cared not whether his enemy was a man, woman, or child.  He made a new vow.  He swore that he would find out who his enemy was, and kill him.  He would seek out and destroy his enemy without mercy. 
                Sitting in the lotus position, he relaxed his body, closed his eyes, and momentarily attained inner peace.  When he was ready, he summoned his power, focusing his ethereal perception.  He used his summoned alternate awareness to glean and unravel the veil that kept the future unseen by all but those few with extraordinary gifts.  He located and followed the dark thread that represented his own life, through the tangled myriad of intersections.  He noticed that it soon tangled with a silver thread, and suspected that this was the thread of his enemy’s life.  He continued to follow his own dark thread, complexly intertwined with the silver one, until he found that the silver one cut his own life’s thread off at its very end. 
                Then he was certain this silver thread was the thread of his enemy.  The thread shined with a goodness and innocence that made him furious.  He longed to yank it from the fabric of time, and rid himself of it, however, the thread was too tangled with his own.  Any pressure at all might cut his own thread at the same time, or worse still, instead of the silver one.  He dared not.  Sneering as he followed the silver thread back to its start, he discovered the date, time, and place of his enemy’s birth, July 31, 1989, 7 pm, London.  He laughed as he returned to his own consciousness.  His enemy was but an infant.  He had no scruples about killing a child.
                Further research showed that two children were born on July 31, 1989 at 7 pm in London, one was a boy named Harry Putter, born to James and Lillyput Putter.  The other was a boy named Neville Largebottom, born to Jumbo and Begonia Largebottom.  Moldyfart would kill both infants. 
                That night Moldyfart planned to visit two households.  He attacked the Putter household first.  He slaughtered James and Lillyput Putter as they tried to save their infant son, Harry.  Their magic was nothing compared to his own.  They died a horrible death. 
                Then Moldyfart picked up the infant from his crib.  The baby smiled and spit up on him.  However, that was the least of Moldyfart’s worries.  For at that very moment, he discovered that his new form wasn’t quite as invulnerable as the demon that had sold it to him had made it out to be. 
                Moldyfart had a rather bad reaction to the Ivory Snow detergent that Harry’s parents used to wash his footed pajamas. The pureness of the Ivory Snow was a bane to Moldyfart’s