In the meantime Voldemort had turned to Garrick, but he stared to the boy with a similar look of utter surprise on his face at hearing the soft hisses and watching Nagini and Potter interact.
Incredible, Voldemort thought. The Boy-Who-Lived is a Parselmouth!? Why didn't I known that? Was it possible that Nagini was right and they were truly somehow distantly related?
Oh dear Morrighan. What if – what if he had interpreted the first line of that prophesy completely wrong? What if Potter was the one that had a mysterious power to vanquish him, but was supposed to add his power, to join their powers somehow? To fight with and for him, not against him?
Not now, stop running in circles, he told himself. I must acquire more information, first and foremost from and about Potter, and then I can worry about that thrice damned prophesy.
"Garrick." Voldemort spoke briskly, concentrating again on his servant; he would deal with Potter later.
"Yes, master?" the man answered, stepping in front of the desk.
"Over there in that filing cabinet," Voldemort pointed out, "in the left upper case are special vials for memories. Deposit your memories of the past days, of how you found Potter's house and what you noticed there in one vial, and separately the events of this evening."
"Yes, master," Avery nodded, but waited if his lord had more orders for him.
"Then Apparate back to Potter's home and observe if any wizards are on the scene," commanded Voldemort. "After all, it is equally probable that the streets around Potter's relation's house are crawling with Aurors or that the Ministry didn't even register Potter's attempt at the Patronus charm and Dumbledore's misfit's club has no clue so far of what happened. What is Potter's home address, by the way?"
"He lives on four Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey." Avery walked over to the map of England hanging on the wall. "That's here, in the farthest north of Surrey, north of the Thames, to the west of Heathrow Airport and to the north-west of Staines, master," described the dark blond, elated that his initiative had paid off so well.
Voldemort rose from his seat and came to his side, peering at the map and memorizing the location. He tapped the map with his wand, which caused it to zoom in on Little Whinging.
Avery pointed out the streets. "Here, that is Privet Drive, this is number four. And here is the shortcut, the alleyway, where Potter was attacked by those Dementors. I use this public Muggle park as Apparition point."
"Good, I see," commented Voldemort.
Avery looked at his master from the corner of his eye. He never had been this close and felt safe, but tonight something had changed. He was pleased that the Dark Lord was in excellent spirits, acting rational and interested in what he, Malfoy and Potter had to say. Avery didn't know what his master had talked about with his snake, but Nagini obviously had said something important about Potter and it had looked like she was defending the boy. The way the boy had acted had been so unexpected. Whatever it was, it had a good, calming influence on the Dark Lord's temper, and he had managed to contain his fury remarkably.
So he ventured forward, asking, "Sir, do you want me to spy on or talk to any Muggles, see if they noticed anything? It's possible that the second Dementor kissed Potter's cousin. Maybe someone has found the body by now and brought him to a Muggle hospital? Or maybe the Dementors attacked other people? In any case it's a serious breach of the Statute of Secrecy, if Muggles are found lying around scared out of their wits or like vegetable with no explanation."
Voldemort nodded. "Good point, Garrick. If there are no Oblivators cleaning this mess up, it will make the local Muggle news by tomorrow morning. Did you have the impression the Dementors were simply looking for random victims, or that they attacked Potter on purpose?"
Avery was quiet for a moment, before he turned, facing his master fully. He spoke assuredly, "On purpose I would say. One Dementor went straight for the boy and completely ignored Malfoy and I, until Malfoy approached it and started to speak. The other one attacked Potter's Muggle cousin."
"Hm. So that implies some fool high up in the Ministry or the DMLE must have sent them deliberately," said Voldemort thoughtfully. He started pacing across the study and speaking more to himself than to his servant, who leaned against the desk, waiting.
"Lucius and well, all of you at the Ministry reported that Fudge and his staff are completely paranoid. Of course we wanted to discredit Dumbledore, to limit his influence, and what happened in the last few weeks' works well in our favour. But this is extreme, way over the top, sending Dementors after a barely fifteen year old boy living with Muggles." Voldemort sneered, abruptly turning around and pacing back. "That's something people would expect from me, the big, bad, insane, evil Dark Lord. This attack on Potter is practically an execution and as you said a severe breach of the Statute of Secrecy. I didn't anticipate anyone in the Ministry would overreact like this. At least there's method in my madness."
He huffed and whirled around again with a wide gesture, walking around the other side of the desk and stopping in front of the window, his silk robe rippling around his tall, lean frame like swirling midnight blue water.
"Yes, Master, exactly," Avery agreed. "I've heard people talking in the Ministry about silencing Potter, same as Malfoy heard, but who would do something as unreasonable as this? Maybe Yaxley or Selwyn overheard someone scheming or boasting?"
Voldemort nodded, he would call on them tomorrow.
"Master? May I propose something?" asked Avery. When Voldemort gestured for him to speak, he said, "We could use this incident to unnerve the public and put some pressure on Fudge and the DLME to further destabilize the situation. Dementors out of control near London, Corruption in the Ministry, Misuse of Power, or some such headline."
"Indeed." Voldemort turned around, smirking; he was pleased with this suggestion.
"Very well, go back to Surrey. Check out that Muggle scum's house. Don't attack them – yet. They will get their just deserts, in time. For now I want to keep our presence quiet. Should any Aurors or Dumbledore or his people be there, I'd like to know who was or is there and what they believe has happened. Write up a short report and send it here," ordered Voldemort. "You said that guard was like deaf and blind, didn't you?"
"Yes, master," answered Avery. "Different people from the Order took shifts watching Privet Drive over the past days, but they never went near the house, at least not when I was there."
Voldemort looked questioningly at him.
"Well, I couldn't watch them or the boy 24/7, as I had to show my face at work and at home sometime to avoid raising awkward questions. Often, like yesterday there was that thief hanging around, Mundungus Fletcher. He's a crock, a stinking piece of drunken, filthy rags."
"Ah, yes, I've heard of him. Never anything good, Severus despises him," stated Voldemort.
Avery nodded, scoffing, "Dumbledore's truly going senile, if he leaves the boy's security in the hands of such a legless knob as Fletcher. He just sat on the other side of the street in the shade of a tree, hidden under an Invisibility cloak, grumbling to himself about the smashing good deal he would miss if he hung around any longer.
"I had to leave, and when I returned later in the evening, he was gone. I searched the neighbourhood and found Potter in that small park not far away, all alone, right before I Apparated here to get Lucius," Avery explained.
"Very well," commented Voldemort. "After you've ascertained the situation in Little Whinging, inform that reporter contact of yours. It would be fortunate if they could interview a Muggle that has felt or seen something horrible and unnatural and has not been Obliviated – yet. The newspapers do not necessarily have to know at once that Harry Potter was involved, only that two Dementors turned up in a Muggle village near London and attacked people. It also depends on whether or not that silly trace on Potter's wand registered any magic done or not. Any ideas?"
Garrick nodded, grinning smugly. He was really getting used to talking with his master like this, in a, well, normal way and felt at ease.
"My Lord, it so happens that I cultivated a relationship," he sneered disgustedly, his voice dripping in disdain, "with a mousy half-blood witch that works as an assistant in just the right Office, Improper Use of Magic, name's Mafalda Hopkirk. That's how I found out in which Muggle neighbourhood Potter's home is located. After, well, ahem, you know, nailing her, I got her to talk about the famous boy, because he has livened up her daily, dull routine several times. Then it took me a while of systematically searching that area until I found the wards around four Privet Drive. They light up this Merlin forsaken, otherwise magic less Muggle suburb like a shining beacon."
Voldemort was pleasantly surprised by the young Death Eater's intelligence and actions, Avery did his best to rectify his past mistakes. He remarked dryly, "Your horrible suffering for the cause has been duly noted. And what did Mr Potter do that was so extraordinary that Madam Hopkirk remembered it?"
"Potter has done magic during previous summers and received one official warning because of a hovering charm in July 1992," Avery recounted the information he had sweet-talked out of Hopkirk. "In the summer of 1993 he did some powerful accidental magic. Imagine, Potter blew up a fat Muggle woman; she was flying towards Greater London like a large balloon.
"And not to forget, on the first of September 1992 he made headlines in the evening edition of the Daily Prophet because he and a friend flew with a stolen car from London Kings Cross all the way to Hogwarts. That caused quite a ruckus at the Ministry. They had to send out every Obliviator they had, even called wizards back from holidays or from retirement! I shall visit the tart tomorrow, invite her for a cup of tea and ask if she had a lot of work this week." His blue eyes sparkled in mischief.
Voldemort eyed Garrick appraisingly and smirked, "Good luck. Carry on," before he turned his attention back to Lucius and Potter. Where – ah yes, he heard soft voices through the only partly closed door from his adjoining drawing room. He disillusioned and silenced himself with a thought and slipped quietly inside, closing the door softly behind him.
The dark blond Death Eater was left alone in the study. It took only a minute to concentrate and transfer a copy of the relevant memories into the vials, which he carefully labelled with his name and the dates.
Before he left for his next task, Garrick downed a cup of coffee and picked up a handful of chocolate confectionaries to munch on his way out. He needed to be in top form when he returned to Little Whinging – who knows what he might find there? He hoped for the concealing darkness of the deserted play park. Worst case would be to appear right in front of a tetchy Auror or Order patrol searching for the precious Boy Who Lived – or, no, worse, in front of a Dementor in a feeding frenzy, but with a bit of luck the Dementors were gone by now.
Briskly he strode through the empty hallways of Malfoy Manor, outside across the lawn to the wrought iron gate, which he passed through with his raised left arm, as if it was only smoke. While walking, he cast a silencing spell on his feet, disillusioned himself and then Apparated to the Little Whinging communal park, right into the middle of a cluster of oak, beech, ash, alder trees and hazel bushes, the same hidden spot he had used before.
It was completely dark in the park now, with stars twinkling overhead and the thin sliver of moon low in the sky. He stood motionless and just listened. In the distance he could hear the rumble of Muggle traffic, but it was much less busy now than one or two hours ago. He raised his wand and voiceless cast a weak Homenum Revelio to scan for any humans in the immediate vicinity. The park appeared to be empty; he only got normal readings further away, small groups of live signs, from all those Muggle houses flanking Magnolia Road. Good.
Silent as a cat he made his way through the park, past the swings, to the park gate. A row of street lamps illuminated the road. Most houses were dark, only a few windows shone yellow, red, blue or green, depending on the drapes inside. No signs of anyone out and about, no commotion, no Muggle police cars. He jumped soundlessly over the park gate and strode down Magnolia Road towards Magnolia Crescent in the direction of the short cut to Wisteria Walk and Privet Drive.
Meanwhile, twelve Grimmauld place, London
Sirius was alarmed; Harry had disappeared, and was probably in terrible danger. He'd listened to Mundungus Fletchers incoherent rambling together with Remus and Arthur, trying to find out what exactly had happened, while Molly chased the dismayed children upstairs and sent them to their bedrooms.
The level of noise in the hallway was deafening, Molly was upstairs on the second floor landing, shouting at her children and Hermione, while Sirius's dear mother, Walburga Black, was screeching at everybody in general, the usual sermon about blood traitors and Mudbloods defiling her house.
Of course Hermione Granger had noticed Fletcher coming and had raced downstairs to open the door to his insistent knocking, bombarding him with questions, thereby waking up Walburga's portrait. Molly was a fool, believing she could shield the teenagers from everything.
Remus and Arthur cross examined Fletcher. They wanted to be sure they knew all the facts before attempting to contact Dumbledore. It turned out that Fletcher had abandoned his place of duty; he didn't know what exactly had happened; only what Arabella Figg had furiously screeched at him while whacking him around the ears with her string bag full of cat food tins. Something about a Dementor attacking people, and that Harry was missing without a trace.
Sirius couldn't stand it anymore. Harry needed him, he felt it, something terrible had happened. Without drawing attention to himself, he hurried through the hallway and slipped out of the front door, closing it softly behind his back. He raced down the steps, across the dimly lit street into the little park, where the fence, hedges and trees obscured their Apparition point from Muggle view.
Gathering himself, he concentrated on the coordinates they had all been told for emergencies concerning Harry. It was an out of sight spot quite near the place he had seen Harry for the very first time two summers ago when he had made his way to Little Whinging in his Padfoot guise. He held his wand ready to cast a Stunner, Expelliarmus or a Patronus, took one deep breath, focused on being quick, quiet and determined and Disapparated with a Pop.
AN: About the possible location of Privet Drive, I took that information from the wonderful hp online lexicon, it sounds logical.