“Dmitri? Damn it, what are you still doing here…”

   The Hit Wizard slowly looked up from the heap of papers on his desk, slowly rubbing his eye as he focused on Larshall. “I’m working, Reed. I’ve got a lot of… paperwork, to catch up on.”

   “That’s bullshit, Dmitri, and you know it,” Larshall said disgustedly, shoving one of Kemester’s books onto the floor as he lowered his bulk onto the desk. “You’ve barely left your office since the inquiry. Was it something that was –”

   “You know I don’t want to talk about it,” Kemester replied icily, turning back to his papers.

   “Look,” Larshall said consolingly, “I know you’re not happy that Potter walked with nary a scratch, but the inquiry cleared you of any wrongdoing! You’re a free man –”

   “When that little bastard walked, he disgraced the reputation of this office,” Kemester muttered, reaching for the bottle of rye shoved against the cubicle wall.

   “You know that’s not true, Dmitri,” Larshall said, a worried note in his voice. “A lot of the other Hit Wizards are really happy that this entire issue’s over –”

   “Pussy-whipped fucks, the lot of them,” Kemester spat after a heavy swig from the bottle. “The entire department lost its balls the second Scrimgeour starting looking at our files. Filthy cowards.”

   “Okay, you know that’s not true,” Larshall said hastily. “There are a few who resigned over this –”

   Kemester snorted. “Yeah, only ones like Charon, relics from the First War who were going to retire anyways and thought they could make a statement by taking a quick way out. They’re even worse.”

   “How much of that rye have you gotten through tonight, Dmitri?” Larshall asked, taking the bottle and eyeing it critically.

   Kemester shook his head. “Not sure. How much is left in there?”

   “About half a bottle… don’t tell me you drank all of this tonight!”

   “Then I guess that’s two and a half bottles, then,” Kemester mumbled.

   Larshall’s mouth fell open. “You should be dead, not knocking back rye like it’s Butterbeer! Damn it, Dmitri, we’ve gotta get you to St. Mungo’s!”

   “I’ll be fine, I’ve got enough anti-alcohol potion in me to stave off poisoning,” Kemester muttered, flipping through the page. “Did we ever get a full case file coming from Gringotts after Potter broke in there?”

   “There’s no proof of that,” Larshall said sternly.

   “Reed, you saw the evidence I had!” Kemester said furiously. “You know bloody well that Potter broke into Gringotts for something, and it’s only his thrice-damned luck that kept us from catching him!”

   “You’re basing that on your gut instinct, and nothing else,” Larshall shot back. “Look, the case file’s out of our hands now, and we can’t go back and try for a conviction on Potter, especially since the charges were dropped.”

   “I’d love to know what Potter said to Scrimgeour to make him drop those charges,” Kemester growled furiously. “Even the Prophet didn’t buy it – hell, at least they’re on our side, painting Potter as the killer he is –”

   “Never thought you’d be one to support that paper.”

   “They were on my side when nobody else was,” Kemester growled. “Everyone was cheering for Scrimgeour’s damned inquiry, and the Prophet thought it a right crime that I wasn’t allowed to make a statement to the press on my side of the story.”

   “Potter wasn’t allowed to give a statement either –”

   “Yeah, but that’s just Scrimgeour covering his own ass,” Kemester spat with disgust. “I’m sure that it was part of Potter’s plea bargain that he wasn’t to speak to the reporters about the case… ironic, isn’t it, that the two who knew the most about this mess were the ones who weren’t allowed to talk…”

   “Dmitri, I know you’re not happy,” Larshall said slowly, “but you should really be getting home. You’re only hurting yourself by going through this mess… Bartholomew wouldn’t want you to be doing this to yourself –”

   “Mention my brother’s name one more time in this cubicle,” Kemester growled, his eyes blazing dangerously, “and I fucking swear that you won’t leave the cubicle alive. Clear, Reed?”

   Larshall swallowed hard. “Look, I know you’re not taking this well, but going over these case files until you’re blue in the face isn’t going to help anyone –”

   “You never answered my question from earlier,” Kemester cut him off abruptly. “Did we ever get a full case file from Gringotts?”

   Larshall frowned. “Wasn’t it part of the papers that Scrimgeour confiscated and moved to Auror filing?”

   Kemester snorted. “Where’s it remains inaccessible to all decent men. Bloody wonderful. Can’t go requesting those documents now, can we?”

   Larshall shook his head. “Maybe you should get some sleep –”

   “I’ve got a lead here,” Kemester interrupted, pointing at the small scrap of paper on the edge of his desk with his wand. “And without those Gringotts files, it’s the only lead I’ve got.”

   “Is that the paper… isn’t that supposed to be with Shacklebolt’s case file?” Larshall gasped. “Damn it, Dmitri Kemester, don’t tell me you’ve been stealing –”
   “Will you relax?” Kemester whispered angrily. “No, I haven’t been stealing – it’s a complete duplicate of the scrap that I made with a little magic I learned in Arithmancy. I’ve been trying to cross-reference the writing to something I might be able to recognize, someone that both Potter and Shacklebolt would have known…”

   “Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about that wild theory you have, with Shacklebolt and Potter both collaborating to keep Sirius Black hidden in this country, are you?” Larshall said with disbelief. “And what kind of magic are you thinking it is this time?”

   “It’s got to be Fidelius,” Kemester muttered. “It has to be – why else would all of my detection charms fail on that street? This paper must have been written by the Secret-Keeper himself – it’s the only way I could have even gotten close to Grimmauld Place… and it’s a damn shame the rest of the paper’s completely consumed…”

   “But who do you think is the Secret-Keeper –”

   “I’ve got my theories,” Kemester said quietly. “Nobody would be idiotic enough to use Black as the Secret-Keeper, and the writing doesn’t match Shacklebolt’s or Potter’s, so it’s got to be a third party protecting them.”

   “You still think Sirius Black is involved, though?” Larshall asked skeptically.

   “He has to be,” Kemester replied curtly, “because why else would Potter go to Welmon? The missing link is Sirius Black, it has to be.”

   “Only problem is that Black is really missing,” Larshall finished, running a hand through his bristly hair. “You don’t buy what Shacklebolt’s saying, that Black’s in Tibet?”

   Kemester snorted. “Are you kidding me? Black’s in England, and Shacklebolt knows where he is.”

   “But Scrimgeour said –”

   “Scrimgeour, despite his reluctance to have anything to do with Shacklebolt, still bought his explanation like the rest of those weak-minded Aurors. They aren’t willing to face the fact that they might have treason in their ranks.” Kemester pulled the bottle out of Larshall’s hand and took a long swig from it. “And there’s still a missing member of this whole conspiracy – the one who supplied Potter with the explosives and Apparated him out.”

   Larshall sighed. “It’s a great conspiracy theory, Dmitri,” he finally said, putting a hand on Kemester’s shoulder, “but that’s all it is – a theory – and you know that we can’t do a damned thing to put it all together unless you somehow figure out the Secret-Keeper and get the information out of him.”

   “I know,” Kemester said quietly, setting the bottle down heavily. “Why are you still here, anyways?”

   The heavy-set Hit Wizard tossed him a rolled copy of the Evening Prophet with a small grin. “Catch the latest?”

   Kemester snorted as he untied the paper and flipped it up. “Fudge is up to his latest antics, I suppose… damn, what did Dumbledore ever do to him to earn this mess? I can support the Prophet up to a point, but this is ridiculous.”

   “I know,” Larshall agreed. “I mean, the concept of a ‘Hogwarts Analysis & Investigation Team’ is just bizarre and a waste of Galleons, even if Fudge is touting it as some ‘force to defend against internal and external threats to Hogwarts’. Even the stupidest goblin can tell you that that’s bullshit, and you can tell Fudge is trying to undercut Dumbledore’s authority at Hogwarts –”

   Kemester rolled his eyes. “It’s politics, that’s what I can tell you. Fudge is scared Dumbledore’s going for Minister, and Dumbledore… well, who knows what that’s all about?”

   “He keeps making those statements that You-Know-Who’s back,” Larshall said in a low voice. “Maybe Fudge is trying to hush that up.”

   “Probably,” Kemester muttered, “because until I see some proof, You-Know-Who’s as good as dead to me. That, along with him backing Potter’s release, is just more evidence that the old man’s finally going senile…”

   His voice trailed off as he pulled the paper closer, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Larshall,” he said slowly, looking up at the Hit Wizard, “you read this article all the way though, right?”

   Larshall shrugged. “Thought you’d be interested in applying for a position on that new ‘Hogwarts Analysis & Investigation Team’,” he replied simply. “Might be an opportunity to get closer to Potter…”

   “And to Shacklebolt,” Kemester murmured, his eyes lighting up. “Wonder why Scrimgeour assigned him to the Auror branch of this group… it’s suspicious, that’s for damned sure –”

   “Dmitri, forget the conspiracy theory, Black’s not important,” Larshall said sternly. “There’s spots open on the Hit Wizard side of this… probably smart that Bones is making this bilateral, considering how crazy Potter’s trial was. She probably wants to stem the anger before the Hit Wizards and Aurors get any more at each other’s throats.”

   “It’s under Dolores Umbridge, though,” Kemester muttered, wrinkling his nose with distaste. “The woman’s a fiend… only reason she’s teaching at Hogwarts at all is because Fudge slammed that Educational Decree through the Wizengamot.”

   “Yeah, and you thought the resignations from our department were bad,” Larshall muttered bitterly. “Marshbanks and Ogden both leaving in protest? If that’s not painted as a scandal by Fudge’s people at the Prophet, I don’t know what will be...”

   “You’ve got to wonder, though, what else Fudge is planning,” Kemester mused. “He wouldn’t put someone like Umbridge at Hogwarts unless he’s got plans for the place… big plans…” He turned back to the paper and eyed it thoughtfully.

   “You going to go for it?”

   “I’ll have to put up with Shacklebolt, and that won’t be pleasant,” Kemester reasoned darkly, “but Potter’s going to be there, and if I’m lucky, I might get a lead that’ll let me drag him back to the Wizengamot and put him in Azkaban for good this time.”

   “You think Bones and Scrimgeour will let you on the team?”

   Kemester let out a bitter laugh. “I’m cleared, aren’t I? They won’t have a solid reason for keeping me out.”

   “Other than the tiny fact that you want Harry Potter dead.”

   Kemester’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Retribution and death, Reed, isn’t always the same thing.”

*          *          *

   Harry groaned with disgust as he slammed the door to his room shut and slumped against the wall. I bloody swear, another dinner like that and I’m going to start taking meals in my room. Why the hell do they just let Hermione talk like that… damn it, Sirius isn’t even saying anything, but that’s probably because he’s got his hands full keeping Lupin under control at the table…

   CRACK.

   Harry’s hand darted to his wand, but then the figure straightened and lit her wand, and he relaxed. “Damn it, Tonks, don’t scare me like that! In the mood I’m in, a few more seconds and I would have cursed you –”

   “A hair-trigger is never a good thing, Harry,” Tonks said with a sly wink, “especially when it comes to scenarios like this.”

   “Or when it comes to your friends.”

   Tonks was silent for a few seconds before sighing heavily and sitting on Ron’s bed. “Yeah, those too.”

   “So who sent you up here?” Harry asked scathingly. “Sirius, Lupin, or Mrs. Weasley? None of them looked too happy when I left the table.”

   “You know Molly disapproves of what you did, Harry, or disapproves of as much as she’s been able to glean from Kingsley and Remus, anyway. And Sirius, if anything, just wishes you would have stayed a bit longer – he doesn’t like backing you up on his own.”

   “No wonder he wants me to trust Lupin so much,” Harry remarked bitterly. “Fat chance of that happening, the way things are going. I can’t trust him, especially when he’s taking Hermione’s side in this whole mess –”

   “Harry,” Tonks said with exasperation, “Remus does have a point. There are no ‘sides’ in the Order – we have to be united if we want to have a hope of taking Voldemort down with Ministry support. It doesn’t help that we’ve lost Snape in this whole mess; even Dumbledore hasn’t heard from him –”

   “Who cares?”

   “He was one of our best sources of information in the Death Eaters,” Tonks replied with a shrug, “and we could have used his information, especially with finding out how the hell Voldemort got that damned prophecy even with Sturgis Podmore down there. Dumbledore still forbidding you from telling people about it?”

   “He told me not to tell anyone, but that’s not the reason why I’m keeping quiet,” Harry said sharply. “The less people who know about it, the better. It’s already bad enough that Voldemort’s got it, and he’s probably told his Death Eaters by now too –”

   Tonks blew out a quick breath. “Harry, Dumbledore’s on your side – you’ve got to know that by now.”

   Harry fixed the young Auror with a steely glare. “He refuses to train me, under some bullshit excuse that ‘the Ministry can’t find out,’ and you wonder why I can’t trust him. Come on, Tonks, if you were in my shoes, wouldn’t you be angry?”

   “Harry, ‘angry’ and ‘paranoid’ are two very different things,” Tonks said quietly.

   Harry turned away, stifling a disgusted snort. “Is that what they’re saying about me? That I’m becoming paranoid? And here I thought with Moody that the Order tolerated a certain amount of that –”

   “And that’s why Alastor still supports you,” Tonks finished.

   “Yeah, and counting him, you, and Sirius, that’s about the only ones,” Harry spat.

   “Harry, you know there’s more than –”

   “Who, Tonks? Who else is backing me here?” Harry growled. “Hermione and Kingsley are united in agreement that I should be back before the tribunal and likely sent to Azkaban, Lupin and most of the Weasleys are content to sit on the fence until something finally breaks through that just because Dumbledore said it doesn’t automatically make it right, and Ron doesn’t know who or what to believe, because he’s got some misguided, undying belief that Hermione’s always right!”

   “Dumbledore’s still on your side,” Tonks said firmly, “and he always has been, Harry. The fact that you don’t trust him – and Sirius and I both agree on this – is starting to get a bit ridiculous. Okay, so maybe he won’t train you, but he was still prepared to defend you in court and do everything he could to make sure you got back to Hogwarts this year.”

   Harry shook his head as he stared at the floor. “He used me, Tonks,” he replied listlessly, “and the way things are going, he’ll just keep on using me if I don’t take control. He only told me about the prophecy when there was ‘blood on my hands’ – and those were his words, not mine – and who knows what other information he’s keeping from me? If I’m the one who has to kill Voldemort, I’m going to need all the information I can get. And how can you explain his excuse not to train me? It doesn’t make sense, Tonks!”

   Tonks raised her hands helplessly. “Look, Harry, I’m still on your side, and you’re right, it doesn’t make a lot sense, what Dumbledore’s trying to do, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t trust him –”

   “I dunno, Tonks,” a new voice said from the door as it was roughly shoved open. “The way things are going, I’m not so sure I’d trust Dumbledore either.”

   Tonks sighed. “Look, Sirius, I know you’re not happy that he’s not letting you escort Harry to the Hogwarts Express, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t trust –”

   “It’s not that which is bothering me,” Sirius interrupted, tossing a paper onto the bed as he quickly closed the door. “Take a look at his most recent press release. The Dumbledore I knew wouldn’t accept something like this.”

   “What the hell is this ‘Hogwarts Analysis & Investigation Team,’ anyways?” Harry asked with a frown as he picked up the front page of the paper. “Seems a bit stupid to me, if anything.”

   Tonks rolled her eyes. “The idea is sound, and I’m sure that’s Dumbledore’s rationale for allowing it. And it’s not a bad idea to have a bilateral group of Hit Wizards and Aurors protecting Hogwarts from internal and external threats, especially with Voldemort out there. The only problem is –”

   “It’s a pretty blatant attempt for Fudge to assert his control over Hogwarts?” Sirius growled.

   “Well, there’s that, and there’s the problem of the whole bilateral thing too,” Tonks admitted. “There’s been a pretty strained relationship between the Hit Wizards and Aurors since Scrimgeour’s inquiry into Kemester’s investigation. Frankly, the only reason that man still has a job is because of political games, and Kemester knows it too.”

   “He’s going to end up on this team, isn’t he?” Harry asked with disgust, tossing the paper to Tonks.

   “Probably,” Sirius replied with a scowl. “Amelia Bones is a peacemaker, and she’ll want to appease Kemester in some way for the disgrace that was the inquiry. Plus it’ll give the Hit Wizards and Aurors an opportunity to keep an eye on him, prevent him from doing something rash –”

   “Like killing me,” Harry said flatly.

   Tonks and Sirius exchanged glances. “His brother is dead, Harry,” Tonks began cautiously, “and he thinks you escaped justice.”

   “How many damn times do I have to reiterate that I did what I had to do?” Harry snarled. “I thought you two would have understood this –”

   “Harry, we’re both here because we’re on your side,” Sirius interrupted. “Don’t get angry with us because of this –”

   “I’m not angry with you,” Harry said, raking a hand through his hair with frustration. “I’m angry with Dumbledore and his terrible excuse for not training me, and I’m furious with Hermione’s new attitude… I just hate being used, and both of them want to use me for their own ends.” He sighed heavily. “At least you two don’t want to use me –”

   “Do you really think we would have backed you up for this long if we wanted to?” Tonks asked wryly. “Harry, Sirius already told you that we’re on your side – hell, we want to see Voldemort gone as much as anyone.”

   Harry gritted his teeth. “A pity so many people don’t want to cooperate – or give me the tools I need to finish the job. Did you find out anything about that file, Tonks, about the closing of the Potter vaults?”

   “The friend I’ve got in Magical Finance says that she’ll take a look at it, but I don’t think you’ll be able to get it reversed without revealing that you stole the file,” Tonks replied helplessly. “It doesn’t help that everything happened nearly fourteen years ago – Magical Law back then, with Voldemort active, was even more screwed up than it is right now.”

   “There could be something in those vaults that I could use,” Harry growled. “Hell, at the very least I could use the gold, considering that settlement put a pretty big dent in my own account! Is there any way I can get the case file reopened, brought back before the Wizengamot?”

   “With the way the Prophet’s painting you?” Sirius said, shaking his head. “You’d be lucky to get past the preliminary hearings. No legal counsel’s going to take your case, Harry, it’d be legal and political suicide. And the way things are going right now, Harry, unless you manage to find some good compelling evidence in that file, enough to get it reopened, there’s no way that you’ve got a case.”

   “I’ll have my friend look it over, Harry,” Tonks added sympathetically, “but I’m not sure you going to get anything out of it.”

   “Can you trust this friend?”

   Tonks shrugged. “I’ll be with her when she starts looking at it, and I’ve got a mean Memory Charm when I need it.”

   “Damn it,” Harry replied heavily. “So much for that option. Sirius, does the Order have any idea how Voldemort managed to get the Prophecy?”

   Sirius snorted. “Sturgis was reportedly guarding it, and he doesn’t have a damned clue how it went missing – typical of him, but that’s not the point. Problem now is nobody knows how Voldemort and the Death Eaters are going to react to the new knowledge, and even though Dumbledore’s shrewd ideas tend to be right on occasion, it doesn’t work well when even he doesn’t have a shrewd idea.”

   Harry shook his head. “Well, I can’t exactly waste time wondering or predicting what Voldemort’s going to do, and that means I’ll have to react to it when it comes. Frankly, I’ll have my hands full at Hogwarts already… Sirius, did you manage to get any information about the First War?”

   “Some,” Sirius replied uneasily, “but not a lot, unfortunately. I can’t go around asking a lot of questions either – Dumbledore knows I had something to do with your whole plan, and it’s tough to be circumspect. I’ve got what I remember, but that’s not going to be enough if you want to take on Death Eaters.”

   “Well, why be circumspect about it?” Tonks asked exasperatedly. “I’m sure the new members of the Order – myself included – wouldn’t mind having a full breakdown of what everyone remembers about the First War. I mean, it couldn’t hurt –”

   “But do you think Dumbledore will actually try and stop any plans I make?” Harry asked thoughtfully. “I mean, it’s benefiting him too – even if we can’t trust each other, it doesn’t mean we have to be enemies.”

   “I honestly don’t know, Harry,” Sirius replied, tossing up his hands. “I mean, I thought he’d be training you this year as soon as you found out about the prophecy, but he’s not doing that, and some of his other logic isn’t making much sense either –”

   “Maybe we should try and find out Dumbledore’s motives before we do anything else,” Tonks said with a small grin. “It’s going to be better than us guessing.”

   “You think you could figure that out, somehow?”

   “There might be a way we can discover it,” Tonks murmured, a smile growing across her face. “He won’t say it out loud – he’s far too smart for that – but he might let things slip, he’s only human. If I join that bilateral team, I’ll likely have to liaison with Dumbledore in some capacity, and that could give me an opportunity –”

   “Will Scrimgeour let you join the team?” Sirius asked, cocking an eyebrow skeptically.

   “Sirius, I’m one of the better Aurors in the department, and I’m currently not on any major investigations. It’s a prime position for me.” Tonks shrugged. “Might be a bit of trouble with Kingsley, though – he’ll suspect that we’re up to something.”

   “Does he know you’re involved with us?” Harry asked sharply. “We can’t have any leaks –”

   “There are a lot of suspicious coincidences that were involved in this whole mess, particularly with the Gringotts incident,” Tonks said with a helpless shrug. “He’s bound to have picked up on something.”

   “And Shacklebolt’s not stupid either,” Harry muttered. “I’m still not convinced, Tonks, that you being on that team will get us any new information on what Dumbledore’s planning –”

   “It might not,” Sirius agreed, “but it’s not a bad idea either. It’s good to have someone to give you information from the inside –”

   “And if Kemester makes a move against us, I’ll hear about it before anyone else will,” Tonks finished, a smile spreading across her face.

   Harry clenched a fist. “You know, of course, that Voldemort’s going to try infiltrating that group too. And with that Ministry woman running it, you might not get as much information on Dumbledore as we might need –”

   “Maybe not, but I’ll be able to witness his reactions first-hand, and as a Metamorphmagus and a master of disguise, I’m a very keen judge of character,” Tonks replied, her smile widening.

  “And besides,” Sirius said suddenly, “Voldemort doesn’t need a new spy – he’s already got Snivellus at Hogwarts.”

   “Providing the ass hasn’t left the country or just died on us,” Harry finished darkly. “Does anybody know where he is? He knows more than he should about what happened with my case, particularly if he broke through any those charms without my knowledge and was eavesdropping on us–”

   Sirius abruptly stiffened. “It might be better if we didn’t find him,” he said in a low voice, “or if nobody found him. With what he could know – it could ruin everything –”

   Harry felt a chill going down his spine. “And it’s no surprise Dumbledore wants to find him so much. If Snape knows enough –”

   “Everything could be at risk,” Sirius finished grimly.

*          *          *

   “So you’re saying, Severus, that you suspect Potter influenced Scrimgeour in some way?” Voldemort asked, lightly spinning his wand around his long fingers. “Bribery, coercion, or blackmail?”

   “Knowing Potter and Black, likely blackmail,” Severus Snape replied in a low voice, his dark eyes glittering in the dim light of the hall. “Neither have the cunning to do anything more… sophisticated.”

   “What of this ‘Nymphadora Tonks’?” Voldemort growled. “Is she a threat? Could she have orchestrated part of the plan?”

   “A low-ranking Auror,” Snape replied dismissively. “Potter or Black likely convinced her that their cause was just, and she went along for the ride.”

   “And you do not know the details of their plots because?” Voldemort snarled.

   “My Lord, Miss Tonks would have likely detected the breakage of her protective charms,” Snape replied smoothly. “She is an Auror, after all.”

   “And you suspect Dumbledore still searches for you because he wishes to know Potter’s plans, which he suspects of which you know?” Voldemort finished, a small grin forming on his pallid face.

   “That, and the fact that he needs his potions professor and spy,” Snape replied, his lip curling.

   “Interesting,” Voldemort mused, turning away from Snape to pace around the circle of Death Eaters. “Potter’s actions have irrevocably tarnished his reputation and have damaged the trust between him and Dumbledore – not to mention the other members of the Order or his friends. This could serve to our advantage – particularly if Potter can be kept occupied with those dilemmas.”

   The Death Eaters around the circle were silent as the Dark Lord continued to pace.

   “I no longer need to take action against Potter,” Voldemort said finally. “The prophecy, of which Potter is likely aware of the contents, does not dictate which of us must act. It will take time he does not have to track me down or start an attack, and his resources are precariously limited – which allows me the time to execute my own plans, particularly while Dumbledore is occupied in squabbles with the Ministry. Have you had any success with the Dementors, Yaxley?”

   “They still wish to deal with you, my Lord,” Yaxley replied heavily. “My negotiations can only be taken so far.”

   “Understandable,” Voldemort said, abruptly halting in his pacing and turning to Snape. “I have a new mission for you, Snape, one of great importance.”

   “I live to serve you, my Lord,” Snape replied coolly.

   “You will return to Dumbledore and submit yourself to his interrogation,” Voldemort said slowly, his red eyes glittering. “Tell him everything about Potter’s plans that you know. Dumbledore will likely confront Potter, and this will further destabilize the trust between them, and make my execution of plans within Hogwarts all the easier. Also,” he added, a cruel smile spreading across his face, “tell Dumbledore that I wish that Harry Potter begins Occlumency lessons as soon as possible.”

   A look of confusion briefly crossed Snape’s face. “But… wouldn’t that…” His voice trailed off as his eyes met Voldemort’s.

   “Wouldn’t Occlumency lessons make Potter a more troubling opponent, my Lord?” Lucius Malfoy asked, frowning slightly with bewilderment.

    “If Potter ever received them, they would, Lucius,” Voldemort replied softly. “But Dumbledore does not dare train Potter while the Ministry is at Hogwarts – Fudge’s paranoia would make such an attempt, if discovered, disastrous. And Potter’s blatant antagonism towards Snape would make even private lessons with his Potions Master impossible.” Voldemort stepped closer to Snape. “And after all, distrust is a deadly enemy – a very deadly enemy. You understand my plan, Snape?”

   Snape nodded once, his eyes not leaving Voldemort’s.

   “Good,” Voldemort said, his eyes fixed on Snape’s, as if he was trying to read his mind. “Nott!”

   “Yes, my Lord?” a stooped Death Eater asked quickly, his hoarse voice echoing in the dim hall.

   “Get Draco and Theodore from upstairs,” Voldemort said slowly, his eyes not leaving Snape’s. “They have a job to do.”

   “My Lord,” Lucius Malfoy said in a low voice after Nott had hurried out of the basement hall, “after everything I’ve done for –”

   “Lord Voldemort does reward his followers, Malfoy,” Voldemort said icily, “but your son does have an assignment, and there’s no getting around it. You should be thanking me, if anything.”

   “Why?” Malfoy asked, suspicion and fear mixing in his voice.

   “Your son will survive.”