Disclaimer: we don't own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter universe. Those belong to J. K. Rowling and her wonderful muses.

Author's Note: thank you everyone for reviewing! Okay, now that that's out of the way, I've found out that I DO have a bit of time and drive left to continue this story. I was really considering just discontinuing it but since everyone was so eager for more, I thought I should at least get to the end. :) thank you for 1,000+ reviews everyone! Also, I have power back (yesterday) but they cut my internet, phone and cable line to do it. sighs so, I'm going to be working on this (still) at school. Sorry guys!

Chapter Thirty Five: Dealing with Danger

Voldemort found that he was bored almost immediately after having killed his counterpart.

He wasn't sure exactly why he was bored since commotion was all around him. The Death Eaters were finally listening to him and were preparing all kinds of wards and guards to stand at various locations of the house, not to mention bringing him all the Dailey Prophet copies they could find concerning the events of the past (never mind that the papers were generally quite biased and incorrect, the main events tended to remain the same). He had leafed through a couple, feeling only disgust when he saw the smirking face of one Neville Longbottom.

He remembered the boy from the Department of Mysteries. At least, that was the most recent meeting that came to mind. He also knew him, of course, because of the prophecy and because of his parents. They had been thorns in his side alongside the Potters for years before he finally had them taken care of. Bellatrix had been only too happy to torture them (the woman was quite amazing; she always loved torture).

As he mused about his next move, his gaze drifted to a loyal and adoring Bellatrix standing by his side, snapping at anyone who didn't look busy. Lucius stood at his other side, calm as you please. He was probably having some sort of therapy in his head, Voldemort could sense the rational voice in his mind telling him not to panic. Still, it was amusing to see the man controlling himself in the face of something so random as another Voldemort appearing out of nowhere and then killing someone who the strong-willed Malfoy had followed since Hogwarts.

The only thing that really surprised Voldemort was Wormtail. The little idiot was the only one who seemed to behave anything like his true Death Eaters. This did not mean that he was the usual, snivilling excuse for life that he was at home. Rather, he was stronger, darker, angrier too. Voldemort couldn't help but be fascinated by this turn of events. Perhaps Pettigrew really had killed Potter? After all, by the looks of the Dailey Prophet, there was absolutely nothing extraordinary about him, nothing at all. This information could be useful.

"My lord?" Bellatrix said softly. Good, she hadn't touched him. She was smart enough to remember his usual reaction when someone dared interrupt him with physical contact.

"Yes?" He said, turning to look at her.

"Sir, there are some dignitaries from the Ministry here to speak with you." Voldemort's eyebrows slowly went up.

"Ministry? What…" he paused and gave Bellatrix his full attention, "why would the Ministry be here? And more importantly, why would they be coming to me of all people, expecting to somehow be safe?" This was making less and less sense. What was going on?

"Sir…" Bellatrix looked completely thrown by his confusion, "sir, we work for the Ministry." Voldemort continued giving her a blank stare.

"What do you mean, we work for the Ministry? You work for me. There's quite a significant difference." What the hell was going on? Voldemort felt confused, and when he was confused, he was angry, and when he was angry, he started killing people. "Explain this to me as if I have never been here, which I have not. Why is the Ministry here?"

"They are here, my lord, because you made a deal with them." She said, as if she felt embarrassed talking about it. "They needed certain rebellious families out of the way, specifically those who were violent in regards to Muggle-born protests and so they hired you, in a sense. They pretend to look for you when you are actually under their protection."

Voldemort stared at her as if she had grown a second head. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Are you saying that I've been bought? I'm the Minister's puppet? I kill who he wants me to kill?" Bellatrix, realizing that the tone of voice her master was using wasn't exactly the most desirable one when her life was at stake, nodded. "What about Neville Longbottom?"

"He was meant to live so we staged your death. The Ministry wanted a hero who supported them and so they used him. You were "brought back to life" because people were beginning to think there wasn't a threat anymore. You were in Romania before, researching potions and spells for Immortality." Voldemort continued staring at her.

"Yes, let them come in." He said at last, a dangerous smile forming on his face. Bellatrix nodded and moved away from him at last, sensing the wicked glint of an idea lurking behind his eyes.

It wasn't just a random Ministry official that entered Voldemort's War Room. It was the Minister himself, with a single Auror. The Auror, however, looked very bored as he followed the Minister. The little man looked rather annoyed and tired as he approached Voldemort. There was no fear in the little man.

Voldemort couldn't help feeling fascinated, watching the Minister approach him in such a fashion. He wondered what everyone would do if he just killed him right now… but now, the man could be useful. Best to wait and see what he wanted. Best to see what he was going to be asked to do. Best to see what he could use for ammunition later.

"Good evening, Tom." Fudge said as he came to stand in front of Voldemort's armchair. By reflex, Voldemort flexed his fingers around his wand. Oh, but how he hated his father's name. And his counterpart was stupid enough to let the man use it? What was the use in a name that was feared if no one feared it?

"Good evening, Minister." He said smoothly.

"We have a new target for you." The Minister said breezily as he snapped to his Auror. The Auror held out a cream colored parchment. Voldemort just stared at it. So, this was what it felt like to be a spy. Part of him was fascinated by the utter ridiculousness of this situation. He wanted to start laughing, but he knew that this joke could only get better and so he kept his face straight.

"Oh, do you? Who is it?" He said absently. He was having a calm, reasonable conversation with the Minister of Magic. He was not killing him. Oh Merlin, he was going to laugh so hard. He was actually worried that he would lose control and just start shaking with it.

"Who else?" The Minister said with a roll of his eyes. "I want the Potters and Black dead." Voldemort's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh? Are they still alive?"

"Of course they are." Fudge said with a frustrated snort. He started pacing, pacing, in front of Voldemort's armchair. "Every day we get reports of near hysteria! How could they have escaped Azkaban? Are they going to kill their son like they tried to before? What is the Ministry's position if we can't even capture three convicts? I need them dead, gone! And I need the Ministry to be the cause of it." At this, he gave Voldemort a withering look. "I need you to do this quickly and quietly, no flashy shows like you've had to do with all the others. And I know when and where to send my Aurors."

"You're a mob boss." Voldemort said, unable to stop himself.

"What?" Fudge's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A… a what? Tom, are you feeling well?"

"Oh, I'm feeling quite well." At this, he sent a sidelong glance at Lucius, who looked very calm. More calm than he should have been. Bellatrix, however, was betraying all of her emotions since neither the Auror nor the Minister were looking back her way. She had her face twisted into an expression her sister typically wore, that of having smelled something truly foul.

"You're acting strange." The Minister said, giving Tom a suspicious look. "You haven't decided to join Dumbledore and reveal our little arrangement, have you? We had a deal." Voldemort just stared at him. He couldn't hold it anymore. He started laughing hysterically. Fudge stared at him.

"He's not feeling entirely himself, tonight." Lucius said as an explaination.

"Well, get a hold of yourself, man." Fudge grunted. He was finally starting to look nervous. Voldemort finally managed to control himself though he couldn't stop grinning at the Minister. He stood to his full height and stared down his nose at the Minister. "I want Potter in exchange."

"What?" Fudge blinked stupidly up at him.

"I want the boy. I want Harry Potter."

"Now see here, Tom."

"That is Lord Voldemort to you." He hissed this last part out. The room seemed to drop several degrees at this. The Auror was finally looking alert, fingering his wand.

"… Lord Voldemort." Fudge said, really looking at him now. His attention was now, firmly, placed on him. Voldemort smirked grimly.

"I want the Potter boy here. I want him to be mine. Do you understand? I will kill your little targets with ease but I want payment."

"You always get payment." Fudge said grudgingly.

"I am telling you what I want. I was going to kill the others regardless."

"Then why should I pay you a damned thing?" Fudge, quite suddenly, had the wand of the most terrible Dark Wizard at his throat. The Auror baulked and fumbled to get his wand out but Lucius and Bellatrix had him at wand point immediately.

"You will give me what I want." Voldemort said softly. "You see, I am a changed man in many respects." He came closer, his lips curving into a wicked, victorious smirk. "I only just recently arrived, you see. Come, look behind my chair. There is something there I think you will find fascinating." Fudge, finally, looked terrified.

"Tom, please, didn't we work well together? Please don't do this. We were good partners, weren't we? I always paid you exactly what you wanted, didn't I? We always had a deal. We always kept our deals, didn't we? We were good together!" While he spoke, he was moving sideways. Voldemort was, after all, herding him.

"I wouldn't know. Look behind my chair." Fudge couldn't look. He kept half-glancing and quickly turning his eyes back to the wand fearfully. "Look behind my chair." Voldemort said this in a whisper. He flicked his wand and Fudge instantly ducked to look behind the chair before Voldemort could use a spell. And there he was. His counterpart lay face up, horror, shock, and anger on his face. Fudge screamed and leapt back.

The Auror was twisting his head, trying to see what the big deal was. Fudge ran behind the Auror looking as if he had seen his own mother there. Voldemort smirked as he came to sit back on his armchair, allowing his presence to spread to the rest of the room, letting the cold sink into their bones, even that of his Death Eaters. "Now you understand, I hope? I am not quite the same man I was before. I'm from out of town, you could say. Where I am from, I am not a hired killer. I do not work for the Ministry. I am the most feared man in the world. No one dares to so much as speak my name. And the only one who can, supposedly, kill me is the Potter boy. In fact, that is why I came here in the first place. I want him. I want to kill him. And you will bring him to me. And if you don't, I'm sure your children would have no trouble convincing you." And he grinned.

"My… my children?"

"Lucius, I want you to find the Minister's house. I would like to have a little chat with his wife and children. And anyone else who happens to be in the house."

"W-What!" The Minister's eyes widened with fear. "This is… this is a joke, isn't it? I must say, Tom, it isn't very funny! Not very funny at all!"

"Oh, torture is quite amusing to me." Voldemort followed with his eyes as Lucius hurried away to do as he had been told. "Who shall I play with first? Well, it all depends how many children you have. I'm sure I could come up with a little something. I haven't done any good torture since I came here."

"I-I'll get you Potter!" Fudge said quickly.

"Oh please, I'm not quite so dense, Minister." Voldemort leaned back, resting his cheek against his knuckles, smirking at him. "You're quite obviously lying. I can read your mind, you see. Try again." Fudge looked even more panicked.

"I will! I'll get Potter for you! I'll even get Longbottom if you want him!"

"I don't want that weakling. Only Potter is even worth the effort. Bring him to me." He was losing patience now. He glanced at the Auror by Fudge's side. "Your name."

"Peter Kengly." The man said softly.

"You understand, I believe." Voldemort said softly, staring into the man's eyes. "I want Potter. I want you to go to Hogwarts and tell him that I am here. There is a small possibility that he already knows that I am here, no doubt through his little scar. I want you to go to the castle and I want you to speak to him and only him. You know how to more or less block Legilimancy, I see. You will use it at the school to prevent Dumbledore from peeking into your thoughts. I want you to find Harry Potter and tell him that I have the Minister and that I have sent him a challenge. He will understand and he will come."

"What if he doesn't?" Peter was staring at him blankly. Oh, he was good at his job. No wonder the Minister had only brought him instead of a small army.

"He will come. He always does." Voldemort stood and walked towards them. "Bellatrix, come here." The two men looked behind them in confusion as Bellatrix, equally perplexed but hiding it well, came forward. "Give me your arm."

Now she understood. Rolling her sleeve up to the elbow, she exposed the Mark to him. He pressed his wand to the mark and let the pressure of it build. Bellatrix gritted her teeth but didn't make a sound.

"You see, I paid him a little visit. I marked him, in fact. He will feel this pain and he will know, once and for all, that my challenge is meant for him. I wish for you to inform him that the Minister is mine. I want him to suffer, you see." And he began to dig his wand into the mark, finally making Bellatrix cry out and fall to her knees, agony in every little cry that escaped her trembling mouth.

"Go now and give him my challenge." And Voldemort finally released Bellatrix. She sobbed and fell back, panting hard as she cradled her arm. Cradled it like a child.

"How do you know I won't go to the Ministry and just get reinforcement to take you down?" Fudge looked as if he wanted to strike the man. Voldemort merely smirked. The Auror had, after all, not been able to block the thought, so voicing it only served as a redundancy.

"There is no reinforcement strong enough in the world to stop me."

Evans stood overlooking the lake, letting his eyes wander over the placid water, reflecting the sun into his eyes. He loved this time of year when he could do this. It was cold, true, but it was also beautiful. The sun would soon be hidden away by the clouds and so these days were precious.

"You're going to freeze to death." Snape said from behind him. Evans didn't look away.

"Are you going to thaw me out?"

"No, I'll leave you here. And you know I will." Snape said. Evans chuckled.

"I see that your devotion knows no bounds."

"I want to go back inside."

"Then go on. No one's stopping you."

"You're stopping me, you insufferable prat. Get inside before I have to drag you in."

"With those skinny arms of yours? Sorry, Severus, no go."

"Stop being a pain and stop staring off into space."

"I don't think Harry knows about the deal between the Ministry and Voldemort." Evans said this very quietly. Snape moved closer but didn't say anything, just staring out at the water with him. The giant squid waved at them. "It doesn't make sense. It wouldn't make sense. He wouldn't know."

"How could he not know?"

"Because he's too pure. He doesn't know a damned thing that's going on. I think, in his world, Voldemort isn't a con-artist at all. I don't think he's a hired assassin. He's a stone-cold killer who honestly kills everyone he wants. And Harry is in the middle of it. There is no danger. It wasn't like with Neville and the supposed Chamber of Secrets. If they hadn't gotten a hold of the Weasley girl and modified her Memories, it would have gotten out. But the way Harry described it, it really happened. Ginny Weasley really did almost die. And Harry is a real hero, not a show-dog like Neville. He's really, truly, a hero." The last word was said in a reverent whisper.

"You've been out in the cold too long." Snape grunted at him. "Let's get inside and talk about this where it's warmer and your brain has time to defrost before you try spewing more pearls of wisdom."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Evans smirked at him as they headed back into the castle. "Finally, you got to punch Potter. Even though it was a mistake."

"Shut up, won't you?" Snape growled at him.