Michael had a bad feeling. He had tried to floo Lucius a few times, but had gotten no answer. After the Hogwarts staff had sent all the spectators home, Lucius had gone off with Dumbledore to see the Minister.

Lucky bastard. None of his Death Eaters had gotten caught, and no one knew how Pettigrew had disappeared. Well, Lucius might, but he sure as hell was not sharing. Michael was both relieved and apprehensive.

Lucius was off the hook, which he was glad for. But his plan had caused the chaos he had intended it to. The Ministry was probably shoulder-deep in investigations by now and Dumbledore would probably be there too; the old man was one of the most powerful wizards in politics. Hogwarts would be extremely well protected, but without Dumbledore there, it was not likely that the staff would patrol the Forbidden Forest, which was perhaps where the Dark Lord might arrive.

Could Michael truly allow Lucius to go through with his plans? The Dark Lord's return to power would change so much. Thousands -millions, probably- would die. The progress that had been made in the wizarding world during the last few years would be completely undone. Michael had been young when it had first happened, and he had wisely stayed out of it. Not fighting against Lucius for obvious reasons, and not joining him for reasons that were even more obvious. But Michael was older now. Could he truly walk away this time without-?

"Why so serious, Michael?"

Michael turned toward the fireplace, and, sure enough, was faced with Lucius Malfoy, who was looking incredibly smug.

"Done covering your ass, Malfoy?"

Lucius smiled cynically. "I admit I had not foreseen that fault in my plans, but everything turned out alright, didn't it? It's a sign, Michael, that the Dark Lord must be reborn."

"No, I'd say it's more like a sign that you're the luckiest bastard that ever lived."

"I make my own luck. As planned, Dumbledore is at the Ministry of Magic, trying to sort everything out. I believe they plan to question Black, but that won't affect the outcome of tonight."

"Where are you headed now, Lucius?"

Lucius leaned against the fireplace. "I got a message earlier from one of the men I sent to look for the Dark Lord. They've found him, or at least they know where he is. We are on a rather tight schedule, but I'm optimistic that we will make it. Right now I need to get in touch with Adam so he can tell me where to collect the Potter brat."

"I thought you had him."

"Absolutely not. He's been staying with Matthew. Perhaps you've met him before… Not that it matters."

"You've always given me the distinct impression that you were in charge, Lucius. So why does he have the boy?"

His authority and power questioned, Lucius sprung to his own defence. "I couldn't possibly have the boy with me, he could be found. Matthew, on the other hand, does not have the power or influence that I have. He is less likely to be caught. He's nobody."

"If I recall correctly, he was one of You-Know-Who's favourites. He made his way into his favour, though no one ever knew exactly what he did to earn it." Michael knew very little of their dealings, he was only repeating things Lucius had once told him.

However, it seemed to be enough to make Lucius angry. "Matthew won't be a problem this time. He may tell the Dark Lord all about his efforts to hide Potter, but in the end, I'll still be the one responsible for bringing him back. I'll still be his favourite."

Somewhat defeated, Michael nodded. He picked up his wand and began waving it around, using it to move the clothing strewn around the room into the suitcase.

"What are you doing, Michael?"

"I'm going back to France. It's been swell, Lucius, really, but I have to get back."

Lucius spoke softly. "Running, Michael?"

Michael slammed his wand down on the desk. "I don't know what you expect of me. Certainly you don't expect me to stay here and watch the show. I won't join you. You know that."

"What a pity. There is much to be gained, Michael."

"For you, Lucius. Not for me"

"It's not like you have very much to lose either."

Michael froze.

"Yes, you're right. I have nothing to lose," Michael said slowly. "Nothing." He shook his head and continued with his packing.

"So your answer is still no?"

Michael turned back to him again. "Yes, Malfoy, I'll stand my ground on this one. Drop by if you're ever in France. Maybe you can bring your son along and we can tell him stories about the good old days."

"I'll consider it," Malfoy answered, not taking his eyes off Michael.

Michael nodded and turned around to continue packing, giving his back to Lucius. He stood there for a few minutes, directing everything with his wand. When the job was done, he turned around again. Sure enough, Malfoy was gone.

. ~ . ~ .

. ~ . ~ .

Pettigrew awoke in a dark room, with cold stones digging into his back. Where was he? He sat up slowly, every limb aching.

"Wake up, Pettigrew."

Pettigrew looked towards the door, where he could see the outline of man by the light coming in from the other door.

"You could stay here and rot for all I care," the man said, "but I need you to do something for me. Malfoy thinks he can take all the credit for bringing back the Dark Lord, but I'm not going to let that happen. I need you to go and find Malfoy and tell him Crabbe sent you to warn him that they received a message from one of our ministry spies, and we know where the boy is."

Pettigrew's mind cleared instantly. "Potter?"

"Yes, you idiot. Tell him Goyle sent word that they were delayed and will not be reaching England until late tomorrow. As for Potter, tell him we've sent our best Legilimens, and we'll have the boy to him this time tomorrow. And if he asks why they sent you, tell him the Ministry is monitoring his home and you were the only one who would be able to sneak out undetected."

Peter sat there, stunned. The man (Peter's mind offered him no clues as to who he was) tossed a wand at him, and Peter picked it up from the floor. Something was not right.

"Whatever you do, do not tell him anything about me being here."

"Wait…You're trying to double cross him!"

"I should have known you would make this difficult. Imperio."

. ~ . ~ .

. ~ . ~ .

Michael Cartwright sent out what was supposed to be his last owl for the night. At first, he had been completely at a loss. However, it had occurred to him that he had an old contact at the Daily Prophet, and almost every witch and wizard in Europe had a subscription. As it turned out, Matthew Reid was no exception. There had been several by the same name, but only one in Muggle London.

Michael had found the house where Reid lived. Or at least where he had lived only a week before. According to the old muggle Reid had been renting from, Reid and the small boy that lived with him had moved away. Michael had gone back to his contact at the Daily Prophet, who had put him in touch with the old witch in charge of dispatch.

"These people just don't understand!" The witch had complained. "We get them their newspaper every day without fail so they think it just delivers itself! Owls come back behind schedule all the time… people not being home we can deal with… but when they move away altogether...? And then the owls come pouring in with complaints that they're not getting their paper! I know the one you're talking about. Threw off Tilly's route something terrible the first day. I updated it in my records, if you'll give me a minute."

And now Michael stood outside the gate to the small house. It was directly across the street from a small park, and it looked almost abandoned. Michael walked to the gate and held his wand at the ready. As hard as he tried, he could not remember any invisibility charms. It was probably his nerves. What would he do if he was caught? What would he say? He could do a quick memory charm, assuming he was not met with the sight of a half dozen Death Eaters.

He opened the gate and winced at the squeaking sound it made. There were shutters covering the windows, and one could not see inside the house. There was nothing in particular about it, but the house itself gave off an air of not being very welcoming. The door was not locked and Michael sensed no danger, so he walked in.

The house was fairly clean, if a bit dishevelled, as if no one had bothered to do much recently. Michael wandered into one of the rooms. It was a rather plain, almost empty room except for an unmade bed and pair of trousers on the floor. Michael kneeled down and opened one of the drawers of the dressed. All the clothes were small, probably for a boy of about five. That was right, was it not? That was how long it had been since the Dark Lord had been defeated, and Harry Potter had been only a baby. The boy would be about five.

It had to be Potter's room. Michael stood up and made his way to the second and last bedroom. This bedroom was more personalized. It was fairly clean, but there were several things strewn about. Just as he bent down to examine a piece of toast on the floor, he heard the fireplace in the living room flare to life.

He looked around the room urgently, looking for somewhere to hide. And there, in the closet, he saw it. Lying on the closet floor was an invisibility cloak. It lay there shimmering innocently, as if it had slid off its wearer or off a hanger. In one agile swoop, he picked it up and covered himself. He heard the fireplace flare up again, and moved quietly towards the door.

"Matthew, you stupid-"

"Lay off, Malfoy. It's not my fault. If you hadn't-"

"Don't try to blame me. It was your fault. You were irresponsible and-"

Michael watched from the bedroom door as Lucius and Matthew argued. Lucius was standing by the fireplace, completely rigid. He was glaring at Matthew, and his eyes were shining with some unknown purpose.

Matthew was sitting tensely on the couch. His face was buried in his hands, and he looked about ready to tear out his hair.

"What happened, Mathew?"

Mathew shook his head. "The kid ran away, Lucius. He found Grant. I don't know what he was told, but I tried to do a memory charm on him, and the kid took off. I Apparated into the park because I knew that was where he'd go. I spotted him but then everything just... I was stunned. I don't know. I find it a little too convenient for him to have stumbled on to another wizard. Something happened but I don't know what."

Lucius began to pace back and forth. "He's gone then? Gone."

Mathew stood up. "Yes, Malfoy. Gone."

"Gone. Gone! Do you know what you've done? Do you realize all the work that has gone into this?" Lucius glared at Mathew, his wand pointed straight at Matthew's heart, but Matthew stood his ground, chin raised and looking neither defiant nor scared. Mathew was looking at Lucius quite calmly, facing a storm that few others could have endured. They stood there in front of each other for more than a minute, neither budging, until Lucius finally growled and turned away.

"We must find him."

"I doubt we will. Adam is using his contacts inside the Ministry to try to find out if they know anything. Something is being kept quiet, and we suspect he has already been found."

"You idiots. Sirius Black had been caught. That is what the Ministry is keeping quiet, though I cannot fathom why. There is still a chance that the boy-"

"We have decided to cut our losses, Lucius. I am about to leave this house, and England, for that matter. We risk too much by pursuing this further."

"Leave England?" Lucius nearly screamed, "You cannot be thinking of running after you ruined everything. All of my carefully made plans!"

"Carefully made? I heard what happened earlier at Hogwarts, Malfoy! You never told us you had taken such steps to resurrect the Dark Lord. You never even implied that you had any idea of where he was. You simply thought you'd spring this on us-"

"Me? What about you? The boy has been gone for days! Why the hell did you not tell me?"

"I planned to find him myself. And when I could not, Adam and I agreed it was best if we let the matter rest."

Lucius whirled around. "Who else knew? Who was involved?"

"Only Adam and myself, Malfoy. The way this whole mess started… just the two of us."

"The hell it was! The triumph of obtaining the Potter brat was for all of us!"

"Yet we did all the work," Matthew said, sitting back down.

"It is of no consequence now," Lucius spat, "I must find some way to fix this situation. The Dark Lord is being brought as we speak... now it must be postponed."

Michael struggled to hold in a sigh of relief. Postponed. The horror that would come with the war was to be put off for a while longer, then.

Matthew, for his part, seemed uninterested.

Lucius began to pace again. "Unless we don't use the brat," Lucius muttered suddenly.

Matthew's head snapped up, and Michael's insides froze very suddenly.

"It can be done," Lucius continued, "we need the blood of an enemy. Just about any wizard will do."

"What are you going on about?" Matthew asked irritably.

"Once my men found the Dark Lord, they sent word. He directed me toward an old volume containing a spell that might help restore him. We require the blood of an enemy, but not necessarily the blood of Potter. Our master was pleased that we had him in our possession, but he will understand, certainly. He will forgive me, being the one to bring him back, for the mistake that you made.

"Then why are you still here, pestering me about the boy, if you are able to carry out your plans without him?" Mathew asked, standing up once again.

"Poetic justice, I suppose. I wanted the same murderer to be the bringer of life."

"The boy is no murderer, Malfoy," Mathew answered coldly, "You have a very twisted mind to be thinking that way."

Lucius did not answer.

"What is it that you want to me to do tonight, then, if I am not leaving England?"

Lucius waved his question away. "The Dark Lord may not arrive until tomorrow. Stay here and be ready for anything. Considering Pettigrew made all of this possible, I think I'll give him the honour of participating. Tell Adam to call those from before who are still loyal, and I'll make your excuses with the Dark Lord. When I give word, you will order them to Apparate to the forest to join us. Then we may celebrate," Lucius finished with a malicious smile.

"What spell did the Dark Lord lead you to?"

"Why do you want to know, Matthew?"

"Do you have everything you will need? It must be some powerful dark magic."

Lucius grimaced. "Well, it is rather obscure. But the main components will not be too difficult to procure. Blood of the enemy, flesh of the servant, and bone of the father."

Mathew sat back. "Oh, and you happen to know who the Dark Lord's father is?"

"Not yet," Lucius admitted, "but I expect to find out once the Dark Lord arrives. It was he who directed me toward that spell, after all. "

"I wouldn't be so sure. He may not trust you that much."

Lucius whirled around angrily. "What are you implying, Matthew? Are you trying to say you know who his father is, or where his remains rest?"

"I can tell you with absolute certainty that I have been closer to them than you ever have. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have many things to do, and I'm sure you do too." Mathew stood up and turned away from Lucius, walking into the kitchen.

And Michael made up his mind.

. ~ . ~ .

. ~ . ~ .

Matthew paced back and forth in the living room of the small house. Something was not right. No, even worse... nothing was right. But, at the very least, Malfoy had no idea where the boy was. His plans to bring back the dark lord were beyond worrisome, however. Matthew had imagined everything to be over. He had already begun planning his new life, and preparing to disappear as soon as Adam sent word.

The missing boy had definitely put a damper on Malfoy's plans, but he seemed hell bent on resurrecting the Dark Lord anyway. And if that happened, Matthew's own plans were shot to hell. He would never be able to outrun You-Know-Who.

Matthew knew that if the Dark Lord was to come back, there was nothing he could do to stop it. However, there was nothing wrong with trying to improve his odds. He scribbled a quick message on a spare bit of parchment and made it untraceable. Albus Dumbledore, he knew, would understand what Matthew himself did not. The Dark Lord had once told Matthew something that had not made sense to him at the time, but was slowly becoming clear.

The Dark Lord, Matthew knew, had a way of making all of his followers feel valuable in his eyes. Matthew had been puzzled, at first, as to why the Dark Lord had been so approving of his having murdered his father, who had been a pureblood. But after Matthew's formal branding as a Death Eater, the Dark Lord had summoned him to an old rundown house in a tiny muggle town to present him with what Matthew assumed must have been a gift. His stepmother, obviously taken from the muggle prison she had been sent to after taking the blame for her husband's death, had been gagged and bound and left for him to torture.

Matthew had hated the woman and been content to indulge the Dark Lord and use the Cruciatus Curse on her a couple of times before putting her out of her misery. And there, the Dark Lord had told him that they now had something in common. For in that house, he had killed his own father, and now Matthew had eliminated what remained of his own shameful past as well. The Dark Lord had gone on to say that Matthew's father had been a bigger disgrace than his own, having chosen his destiny. One knew never to question the Dark Lord, so he had remained quiet.

The Dark Lord had told Matthew that he had a bright future, and that soon he would be called on to complete a job for his master that would be the most important of his life. But Matthew had not seen the Dark Lord after that. The summons had never come, and the Dark Lord had been defeated shortly after.

Matthew opened the window and summoned his owl. He suspected that the Riddle House meant something, and to lead Dumbledore there might be enough to thwart Lucius' plans.

One thing Matthew was sure of, however: The boy, Harry, was being kept safe by the person who had found him. He may already be in the hands of the Ministry, considering the note that had been scribbled at the bottom of the boy's letter. Before Matt could even worry about why that letter had brought him any amount of comfort, his fireplace lit up.

"Malfoy...!" A small man stumbled out and looked around. "Malfoy, I found him! We'll have him!"

Matthew looked over at the intruder babbling nonsense. His somewhat ratty face seemed familiar, but he found it impossible to place him. "Who the bloody hell are you?"

The man straightened up and replied, "Peter Pettigrew. Where's Lucius? They told me I could find him here."

Matthew looked him up and down. Pettigrew the rat. Of course. He shook his head and waved the question away. "You were told wrong. Now, get out."

Pettigrew's eyes narrowed and he gave Matthew an insolent glare. "So... you're the infamous Matthew. Well trusted by the dark lord, but a complete failure that couldn't even keep track of a little boy."

Matthew made a sound of disgust and turned away.

"Lucky for us," Pettigrew continued in a whisper, "we've found him."

Matthew whirled around to face him. "You're lying."

Pettigrew laughed maniacally. "Dumbledore left him with muggles! I'll have the boy by this time tomorrow." Pettigrew boasted. He then turned around and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the top of the fireplace, talking to himself more than anything, "... everything I've done will be recognized."

Before Matthew could as much as blink, Pettigrew was gone. The man was mad; he had to be. Dumbledore probably had Harry, and none of the Death Eaters would be mad enough to try to take him from his custody. What was going on?

He could not just sit and wait anymore.

He could not betray the Death Eaters.

This had to be a nightmare.

A part of him was protesting at the idea of the boy being hurt after he had taken all those years raising him and keeping him safe. And Harry was only a boy. But sending Dumbledore that owl had been enough of a risk; Matthew could not do anything more without risking his own skin.

There was a chance, albeit a small one, that Matthew could find the boy and hide him somewhere to keep him safe. Let the Dark Lord be reborn a different way, if he must. Matthew had to at least find out where the boy was. Perhaps he could keep an eye on him, and if he was caught, he could simply claim he wanted to take the boy to the Dark Lord himself. If he deemed the kid to be safe, Matthew would make a run for it on his own and hope that someone stopped Malfoy before he could ruin Matthew's dreams of freedom.

His resolve strengthened, Matthew turned around to grab his invisibility cloak from the bedroom and was shocked to find Michael Cartwright standing at the doorway, cloak in hand and wand pointed at his heart.

"Stupefy."

Thoughts of warning Dumbledore and saving Harry ran through Matthew's mind before the spell hit him, but Michael did not know that.

Michael gave a sigh of relief. Matthew would not be able to pass on the message anymore, and as long as he could catch Pettigrew in time, Lucius would never know Michael had been involved. Lucius would not become the murderer of a six year old child.

But if Lucius ever found out... Michael shuddered to think. Lucius was like his brother, and Michael decided he would have to become his brother's keeper. He would save Lucius from himself, if he had to.

Michael glanced at the tied-up Death Eater and looked around, his pulse racing. Where could he hide him? If anyone were to come looking, they would know immediately that he had been attacked. And Michael had no way of knowing if Mathew would able to identify him.

Finally he settled for dragging him to the bedroom and covering the unconscious man with the invisibility cloak. That done, he walked over to the fireplace and, with a spell, blocked access to the Floo network. It might be days now before the man was found.

His plan was nowhere near perfect. In fact, it had more flaws than virtues. Would he really be able to stroll in, take Potter, and take him to Dumbledore, all without being found, or worse, identified?

Lucius would kill him.

But if he did not do anything, the Dark Lord would kill thousands.

His choice was made.