Notes: Thanks for all the interest in the previous chapter! I think that the next one is going to be "part III" after all; this one did not advance as far as I'd originally intended, but I wanted to end it where it does because I think it is a strong finish and yet a cliffhanger.

Tom is very much an antihero in this chapter, fighting for justice by extremely shady and ethically questionable methods (not to mention protecting himself by those same methods). Enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Four: Operation Dark Sunset, Part II: Trading in Secrets

Tom quickly created copies of the two photographs, instantly banishing them to the cabinet in the room, and continued to page through the album to see if anything else of interest appeared. Arcturus Black opened his mouth in outrage. "That is not yours!" the wizard exclaimed. "Minister or not, you cannot just confiscate other people's property!" Beside his father, Orion, too, looked offended, though he did not dare speak up.

"I have not confiscated anything. Your property will be returned to you unharmed," he said coolly. "I merely need copies of certain photographs as proof, in case my… witnesses… prove recalcitrant."

"Listen, Minister, I don't know what you think you found in that album, but I swear to you, my family has had nothing to do with Russian organized crime! I will take Veritaserum!"

"Perhaps not knowingly so," Tom agreed, "and this much I will tell you, Mr. Black: The parties of interest to us are not members of your family. However, they do appear in certain photos."

"Which photos?" Orion asked.

Tom stopped thumbing through the book for a moment. He gazed evenly at the Blacks and, without a word, continued his search. Arcturus huffed in outrage, but Orion was again cowed.

At last, Tom finished his search. He closed the album and handed it back to Arcturus with mock ceremony. "Thank you for visiting," he said smarmily. "This has been of great assistance."

Hermione attempted to smooth things over. "Did you recently have some photographs developed?" she inquired, because in truth, she was curious as to why Black had this item with him.

Orion nodded quickly. "My little one Regulus just started to walk. We captured it on film."

Hermione smiled. "It was thrilling when each of ours first walked, talked… did accidental magic…. We weren't fortunate enough to capture their first magical bursts, though of course we have the memories."

Mollified, Orion managed to return the smile. "I suppose we should check on them."

As Hermione and Tom led the way to the room containing Cynthia's terrarium, where she and Sirius played under Virgil's supervision, she turned to Tom with a significant look.

"I have a plan," he whispered in a voice that only she could hear.

Sirius was a little intimidated by the assertive Parselmouth girl, and he had retreated behind the quiet, studious Virgil instead, who was thrilled to play the "mature" figure. Hermione and Tom chattered socially for a while with the Blacks, but their minds remained fixed upon the photograph copies in their cabinet: The Black family and some close friends shortly after the birth of Andromeda in 1953. In one photograph, Abraxas Malfoy, Horace Slughorn, and a young wizard were among the gathered. In the other, that same young wizard… and Karkaroff.

Hermione trusted Tom's Legilimency; if he had determined that Black was telling the truth about no association with Karkaroff's later employer, Hermione believed it. And after all, Karkaroff had not elevated the murderous schemer Dolohov to be his second until 1958. As Tom had said, the prime suspect was not a member of the Black family. It was the other wizard who appeared in both photographs.

The Minister's Office.

Tom and Hermione sat in Tom's office, waiting. Tom had insisted upon having this meeting occur on his "ground," and Hermione agreed. This was going to be difficult enough as it was. Tom wanted information from someone who, unfortunately, had a strong incentive to be reluctant to give it—and who would be with someone else who might attempt to blackmail or extort Tom into serious concessions.

Hermione had spent less time in Tom's work-related business in the years since the fiasco in Ukraine and Russia in which the press had excoriated her for being involved. However, her presence at this meeting was crucial, she knew—for more than one reason. The Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster would be less inclined to be hard on Tom with her there, and it was quite likely that Slughorn would be more inclined to talk to her as well.

"Headmaster Dumbledore and Deputy Headmaster Slughorn," the Floo connection announced smoothly. Tom approved their entrance, and in the next few seconds, green flames spouted from the hearth as the two older wizards moved through. They got to their feet and dusted themselves off. Slughorn looked distinctly nervous, Dumbledore much more calculating. Tom had informed them that he needed to question them about a failed attack on him—not as suspects, of course, but because there was evidence that Slughorn, at least, might have known one of the people behind the attack. For that reason, Slughorn's nervousness made sense—but Hermione did not like the look in Dumbledore's blue eyes.

Tom gestured for them to sit down across from his desk. Hermione sat in a chair behind it but to the side, sending the message that she was clearly slightly removed from Ministry business, but not entirely. The professors took their seats and waited.

Tom smiled insincerely at the professors. "Albus. Horace. I'm glad you could come."

"Shocking business," Slughorn mumbled, "someone attacking you in the dark! Sounds like something that would happen in Muggle alleys."

"Yes… well… unfortunately, this was very much an alley in a wizarding district, and the attacker was a low-level grunt from Rodoslovnaya. I presume you both know—"

They nodded, Slughorn shuddering as he did. "Yes, we know what that is. I'm very sorry if I ever spoke with anyone who passed information to them, Tom," Slughorn pleaded, his eyes wide and obviously fearful, as Hermione noted with some concern. What had the professors discussed already? Had Dumbledore shared his own guess with Slughorn?

"It's shocking, how many people who we thought were respectable Isolationists—traditional, yes, and sometimes prejudiced, but still very respectable people from old families—potentially have unsavory connections," Slughorn continued. "I never would cause you harm on purpose, Tom."

"Of course," Tom said. "I'm not accusing you! I just wanted to know more about a particular one with whom you've talked in the past, Horace, because unfortunately, I have solid reasons to believe that this is worse than 'unsavory connections' through which information could eventually reach foreign criminals. The Aurors are not interested in everyone who ever spoke to someone connected to Rodoslovnaya. They're interested in crimes… and I think this person you spoke to is a deliberate spy for the Russian crime family."

Slughorn's eyes fluttered closed for a moment in despair. He opened them again at once, gazing pleadingly at Tom and Hermione. "Who is it, then?" he said miserably. Beside him, Dumbledore's gaze was fixed on Tom.

Tom brought out the photographs he took from Arcturus Black's album and placed them on his desk face-down. "This is highly secret information and I must swear both of you to secrecy under a wizarding oath until it is released to the public," he said.

Slughorn instantly raised his wand to take the oath. Dumbledore hesitated for another moment before glancing at the urgent look on Hermione's face and deciding that Tom was not asking this for nefarious reasons… or, at least, purely self-interested reasons. He too raised his wand and took an oath with Slughorn, not the Unbreakable Vow, but an oath that would drain their magic if they broke it.

Tom flipped over the photographs. "The suspected spy is Augustus Rookwood, Deputy Director of the Department of Mysteries." He pointed to the two photographs. The young wizard who appeared in both—and was not a member of the Black family—was Rookwood. "Here he is ten years ago, at the christening of one of the Black daughters, beside you, professor—and again, beside Igor Karkaroff."

Dumbledore and Slughorn examined the moving photographs. Rookwood grinned back at them from the images.

Dumbledore gazed sharply and shrewdly at Tom. "As you said yourself, Tom, many people have spoken to someone with a connection to the crime family. What makes you so certain that Rookwood is a spy? There must be more to this than his appearance in a pair of photographs." Dumbledore's stare remained fixed upon Tom, as if he already knew part of the answer.

Tom breathed deeply. There was no way to avoid it. Hermione is here, he thought, and she will support me. Even if she doesn't approve of this deed, she stands by me. And I do have a plan for keeping Dumbledore—and Slughorn, for that matter—off my back. "The wizard who attacked me was part of a plot to assassinate me," he said bluntly, "and he said some things indicating that his direct boss—Karkaroff—had certain very sensitive information about me that would make it easier to kill me. The assassin himself did not understand the import of it, but Karkaroff certainly would have."

Hermione was watching the professors carefully as Tom spoke. Dumbledore was unsurprised by Tom's hints. There was a suggestion of surprise in his face, but she guessed that it was actually due to the fact that Tom was even dancing about the confession at all. Slughorn, Hermione observed, was growing more frightened and disturbed by the second, though whether he was afraid of Tom or of his own inadvertent connection to foreign organized crime, she could not say. Probably some of both, she thought.

"'Very sensitive information about you that would make it easier to kill you.'" Dumbledore repeated coolly. "Perhaps you should be more specific than that… Minister."

Tom breathed deeply, staring hard at Dumbledore for a moment. Then he picked up his briefcase, flicked his wand to unlock it, and took out the diary, which he set on the table with a hard thump. He stared challengingly at the professors. "This. You know what this is, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's bright blue eyes were as wide as saucers. He had not known of the existence of the diary specifically, but it was clear as soon as Tom set the book on the table what it was. Gingerly he pointed his wand at the book and cast a simple spell. The spell exploded backward with a visible shock wave in the air, though fortunately, the force field was no larger than the size of a salad bowl.

"Albus," Slughorn said in a timid voice, "is that—"

"Yes, Horace, it is," Dumbledore said.

Tom gazed into Dumbledore's eyes as they met, hard and defiant. "The Russian assassin used a non-lethal poison that was intended to disable my wand arm. He had been instructed to get a book from me that I was likely to carry on my person. A book that Karkaroff had described to him as being highly magical and personally significant to me, and which Karkaroff had to have before he could kill me. Needless to say, it was horrifying to me that anyone in the Russian wizarding mob could know of the existence of any… such artifacts… let alone have such specific details about mine. However, I did carry it to work a lot… and if a sharp-eyed spy knew to be on the watch for any object that was particularly important to me, and knew why, he would notice it. Apparently, Rookwood is a sharp-eyed spy." He shifted his gaze to Slughorn. "Horace. You undoubtedly remember a certain conversation that you and I had in my sixth year, after a club meeting…."

Slughorn grew alarmingly pale. "Tom, I never meant to endanger you! Augustus and I were having drinks one night after a club meeting. He had been the guest that night, and I was just reminiscing… I didn't mean—"

Dumbledore cut off this stuttering. "Tom," he said, his words harsh and sharp, "I have to say, this is impressive. You sit here, Minister for Magic, all but confessing to a heinous use of the Dark Arts—and an intrinsic underlying crime, I should add—and yet you intimidate Horace for a conversation that he had on the subject!" His blue eyes flickered to Hermione in disappointment.

Tom noticed that. He glowered; he had not wanted the professors to think ill of Hermione. He met Dumbledore's gaze. "You can chastise me later," he said. "I'm sure you have been eager to do just that since our conversation about teaching the Dark Arts in Hogwarts when you tried to intimidate me by showing me that book that has the chapter about it. That said, when the moral scolding inevitably begins—"

"Tom," Hermione said quietly but pointedly. His tone of voice was becoming far too combative and contemptuous, considering his precarious position.

Tom stopped for a moment and swallowed, apparently realizing that he was going too far. "All right. When we discuss—Horcruxes" —he spat the word at last—"I hope you'll give me the chance to speak, and to explain myself, and more importantly, Hermione. I noticed that look that you were giving her, Albus," he added. "But for now, I am talking about a spy in the high levels of the Ministry. I don't want to do anything to Horace, or you, for that matter. I know that it was not his intention to endanger me. What I'm interested in knowing is what else was said in this conversation!" He picked up the Horcrux and placed it in the briefcase, which he locked magically again and put under his desk. "Rookwood is a spy. I need to know what he said to Horace that night."

Slughorn gazed miserably at the floor. "Tom, I had no idea he was working for Karkaroff!"

"Horace," Hermione spoke up, "obviously no one had any idea, or he would be in Azkaban, not Deputy Director of a Ministry department. His boss is seeing the Auror heading the overarching investigation—which isn't to say that they share secret information, of course, but it means that you were far from the only person deceived. We understand. We just need to know what he said that night… and if there were any other times when you two talked at length. It could be important." She paused. "And there is something else. Because of the circumstances, this incident alone, this attempt on Tom, cannot be used as the sole evidence that Rookwood is a spy."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at that clear implication that they were going to be asked to participate in a cover-up.

Slughorn was thinking. "I was tipsy that night," he confessed. "Augustus and I had had several glasses of fine brandy. He asked me about you, Tom, and I had the conversation on my mind because… well, after you and Hermione came to Hogwarts that day to talk about a Dark Arts elective, Albus confided his suspicions to me. I haven't thought about it all the time—tried not to think about it—but I did remember that conversation, and there was something else… I remembered vaguely… that fight at Arcturus's house when you were seventh years…." He trailed off. "It's… patchy… in places"—he gazed fearfully at Tom, apparently having correctly guessed that Tom modified that memory—"but I remember realizing… what you had done, though I don't remember how I knew." He sighed. "I didn't tell that to Augustus. I just babbled. People chatter when they are tipsy. The mind associates freely, and that's what happened. I told him about the conversation you had with me in your sixth year, because it had been in the back of my mind."

"And what did he tell you?" Hermione pressed.

Slughorn rubbed his eyes. "I didn't think much of this bit until just now, but I suppose I should have known. I just didn't think. He—we—talked about… the unofficial market for potions ingredients, you know? And he said that he had a personal supplier of one specific ingredient, the skin of Melikov's Viper."

Tom and Hermione both gasped. That was a critically endangered magical species of snake found only in the southern Caucasus. Its shed skin was a useful ingredient in potions to treat certain forms of magically induced dementia, but it was also used in lethal poisons. Many wizarding governments, including the Ministry, had captive specimens, but they supplied the snakeskin to their wizarding hospitals on an as-needed basis. The only known black-market source of this ingredient was organized crime… and the last known wild population of the vipers was on a tract of land held by Rodoslovnaya. Having a "personal supplier" was damning.

But not quite proof of being a spy. Although Tom and Hermione did not doubt it, without the evidence of Rookwood's knowledge of the diary Horcrux, it would be possible for Rookwood and his eventual attorney to argue that Rookwood was merely buying the ingredient illegally and had not known of his supplier's connections.

"It was interesting to me," Slughorn continued shamefacedly, "and I have to admit, I've made a few deals on the black market myself over the years. Some ingredients are just very hard to come by affordably. That's not meant to attack the Ministry, of course…." he added hurriedly.

Tom had already seized upon the information and did not care about Slughorn's apologies for insinuations about Ministry laws. "That's exactly the sort of information we were looking for," he said. "Thank you. Do you recall anything else of substance? Anything at all, even if it didn't seem important to you?"

Slughorn thought about it. "Well, there was one other thing that night. I don't know if it means anything. I assumed the bloke was just talking about his work, but you would know that better than I would, Tom." He frowned in contemplation. "He said that there was research he knew of for making a weapon of Amortentia—not the potion itself, I should say, but he said if you change just a few ingredients, and get hold of a hair from someone—like in Polyjuice Potion—then you can make the drinker obsessed with that person, not just yourself. Only not in a romantic way. The theory is that it makes you obsessed with killing them." Slughorn stared worriedly at Tom. "Is that Department of Mysteries work?"

Tom and Hermione exchanged shocked glances. Hermione was technically not supposed to know about the Aurors' investigation in this degree of detail, but Tom had shared the important twists and turns with her anyway. They both knew about this. It was a scheme—theoretical so far, to the best of their knowledge—that Rodoslovnaya and their sympathetic political figures across Britain and Europe were plotting. The goal was to get the parents of Muggle-borns to kill their magical children, with the intent of discrediting the view that such families should be treated with respect in the wizarding community.

"No," Tom said, his dark eyes still wide with shock, "that is definitely not Department of Mysteries work. Listen, Horace—and Albus—I have to ask you to swear a wizarding oath again, because this is secret information… but that is something that the crime family is researching, according to what my Aurors have found. Their plan is to give this potion to the parents of Muggle-borns so that they would kill their own children—not everyone, but just enough families to start a panic in the wizarding world that could sweep their blood-purist allies to power. It doesn't exist yet," he assured the professors. "But this is secret. It could jeopardize sources for the Aurors if this escaped."

The professors did not hesitate for a moment this time, not even Dumbledore. They took the oath without a hint of reluctance.

"Thank you," Tom said sincerely. "That is perfect, and just the proof we needed. I will pass this on to the Aurors and get an arrest warrant for Rookwood based on it, because it is almost impossible that he could know about it any other way, especially with the additional evidence of having a personal supplier of that snakeskin." He finally smiled, for the first time in the discussion.

Unfortunately, his smile did not last long. Hermione noticed Dumbledore's subtle movement forward in his seat. His blue eyes twinkled, though not in a charming way. "I am glad that we could be of help to you—and to Wizarding Britain," he added. "Now, Tom, if I may…." He trailed off potently.

Tom suddenly drew back, like a snake himself, retreating into safety and wariness. The smile faded, and he glared at Dumbledore. "Is this the part when you blackmail me, Albus?" he snapped. "Demand that I leave office or you'll expose my secret? There is no law against making a Horcrux."

That much was true, Hermione thought—if only because it was such rare magic that no one in the Ministry or Wizengamot had thought to write a law about it. Few of them likely even knew that such magic existed.

Dumbledore shifted in his seat but did not break his gaze with Tom. "Creating a Horcrux is a grave act, Tom. And it is not just any act of killing that will even work. It specifically requires murder… which is to say, taking a life deliberately, prematurely, and not as a necessary act of defense. Of course, there are times when that will not be considered murder under wizarding law, but according to Horace's recollections, you already had created this diary by your seventh year at Hogwarts, so the lawful death of Dolohov in Russia was not the one you used." He frowned at Tom and then at Hermione.

Tom breathed deeply, then exhaled, keeping his Occlumency shield up. He was not as proficient at that as he was at Legilimency, but over the years, he had learned something of the skill. He was always good at lying, too. "Albus," he finally said, "if that is what you want to know, then I'll tell you—but hear me out."

Hermione knew that he was going to spin a tale, and she did not really want to hear it, but she knew that her presence here was necessary. She attempted to think of other things.

"In the second term of my fifth year, there was that incident, the rumor of the Chamber of Slytherin," he said. "As you know, Albus, I am a Parselmouth. I presume you worked out long ago what happened that year."

Dumbledore nodded, still frowning deeply.

"Her death was the one," he lied baldly. "I was sixteen. I had just learned about this magic, I had just learned that I was a descendant of Slytherin—and I was sixteen. This was long before Hermione came."

Hermione understood that he was lying about this to protect her, to convince the professors that he had already created the Horcrux by the time she arrived, so there was nothing to be done about it by then—and that she was not complicit in his making it. She appreciated that he wanted to protect her, but at the same time, it hurt her a bit that he would imply, even only in the vaguest sense, that he would not have created one after she came. He had, after all, and even forced her to watch him do it.

And she also understood that he was protecting himself in a deeply cynical way. Murdering a Ministry official, as he had actually done—particularly, in 1945, a pureblood Ministry official—was much worse in virtually everyone's eyes than killing an unimportant Muggle-born teenager. That also troubled her.

But the alternative was for Tom to fail to convince Dumbledore to keep his secret for him, which would result in Tom being blackmailed into resigning his office under mysterious circumstances—or worse, being sent to Azkaban for life.

"I have since made peace with the girl, Myrtle," Tom said, aware that mentioning her name would sound better to the professors. "When that former classmate she was haunting complained to the Ministry about it, I arranged for her to pass through the Veil of Death in the Department of Mysteries."

Slughorn looked down at his lap. Dumbledore sighed deeply. It was clear to Tom and Hermione that Slughorn wanted this over and would acquiesce to Tom's implied request to keep the secret, but it was also apparent that Dumbledore was very uncomfortable with that idea. Hermione decided to speak up.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said. "Albus. I understand that what Tom hasn't said—but obviously hopes for—is something that troubles you. You have a strong sense of justice. So do I. But justice is a complicated concept. It would be very difficult for our children if this came out… I don't really see how Tom would avoid…. Well, you of all people know how hard it is to lose a parent to 'the justice system.'"

That did the trick. "I do," Dumbledore said heavily. "I will never know whether my father could have prevented the terrible events that occurred later, but it's possible that things would have been different if there had been two parents to care for my poor sister."

"You are not the same person you were at seventeen," Tom intoned, "and I am not the same person I was at sixteen." He smiled winningly yet humbly, aware that they had won the debate.

"That is true," Dumbledore conceded. "Very well, Horace and I will keep this secret."

"One last thing," Tom said. "When we arrest Rookwood, he may attempt to save himself by telling what he knows about me. If he does…." He trailed off pointedly.

This made both professors extremely uncomfortable. Slughorn shifted in his seat, and Dumbledore's face grew wrinkled with frown lines. "There is a difference between keeping a secret and telling an outright lie," he said.

"But couldn't it be a white lie?" Hermione pressed. "Consider what could result if Rookwood, an accused spy, bought his freedom by revealing information that took down the Minister for Magic—the one who had the entire investigation started!"

Pleased that she had been so pointed about it, he picked up her thread and continued with it. "She's right," he said. "That magazine The Sentry has been sowing the seeds of conspiracy about the Aurors' investigation from the beginning. If something that damaging came out about me, it would hardly matter to many people that it had nothing to do with what started the investigation. It would hardly matter that most of them didn't even know what a Horcrux was before then. The Sentry and its supporters would use that to try to discredit the Aurors' work. To succeed me, the Reformists would have an ugly battle between Weasley and Leach, and the Isolationists would split between Orion Black's supporters and the conspiracy-minded malcontents who don't like the fact that Malfoy, Florian Rosier, and others have likely been conspiring with Igor Karkaroff and his criminal 'friends' to seize wizarding governments. Obviously, my party would be utterly discredited in the immediate term, maybe longer. Please don't do their work for them." He leaned forward across his desk in a manner curiously supplicatory, dark eyes wide, all traces of defiance gone.

Hermione considered his expression and body language. To an extent, she thought it was an affectation, but she did not think it was entirely that. Tom was no fool. He knew that he was currently at Dumbledore's mercy. It was a credit to him that his response to being at someone's mercy was not to lash out violently.

Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I see your point," he admitted. "But I do have something to ask of you in return, Tom."

Tom tensed. "What is it?"

"Nothing too onerous. All I ask is that you leave Hogwarts be," he said firmly. "No meddling in the curriculum, no Ministry orders without following the proper procedure of consultation with the faculty and the board of governors, no improper interference of any kind."

Tom blinked. That was it? He had mentally conceded the school to Dumbledore years ago. "I have no problem with that," he said at once. "We have a bargain, then."

"Well, not so fast," Hermione said with an amused smile. "I was going to ask Dumbledore to do something."

"Asking the Headmaster is not improper interference," Dumbledore said, smiling again. "What is it, Hermione?"

She leaned forward, a serious, grave expression suddenly on her face, the smile vanished. "My eldest child attends Hogwarts. In a couple of years, so will my second. There is currently an ongoing criminal investigation by the Aurors into foreign organized crime… and an assassin attempted to kill Tom. They won't hesitate to harm the children of their 'enemies' as retaliation, and I am obviously thinking foremost of my own children, but there are children of Aurors at Hogwarts too. I am asking you to increase security on the school until the Ministry determines that it is safe to return to the usual levels."

"Of course," Dumbledore said immediately. "That is an excellent idea and I agree completely. The school will be secured by the time they return after Christmas."

Hermione and Tom finally breathed sighs of relief.

"That could have been worse," Tom remarked to her that evening when they were back at home in bed.

She pulled up the covers. "Yes, it could have been. Dumbledore was remarkably willing to work with you. I was amazed that all he asked for was for the Ministry to stand down from Hogwarts."

"I doubt that that will be the last thing he asks of me," Tom said darkly. "I don't like being vulnerable to extortion… but I suppose there was no choice this time."

"You will have to be more careful in the future," Hermione scolded. "You never should have brought it to the Ministry. That's how Rookwood guessed what it was."

Tom nodded, but a spark of the defiance that he had exhibited at the beginning of their talk with the professors returned. "You're right… but Slughorn should also be more careful. I have said for years that no one can trust him with secrets once he's in his cups. He likes to show off what he knows about important people too much, and he loses his judgment about what not to say when he's drunk."

Hermione sighed. It was all too true. "I hope he's learned a lesson from this," she said. "He doesn't approve of Horcruxes either, of course, but he really did not want any harm to come to you. That, I believe."

"No… he didn't," he agreed. He pulled her close, allowing her to tumble on top of him. They shared a passionate kiss and fell quickly into the familiar motions.

Late that night, after Hermione was snoozing warmly beside him, Tom considered his plans for arresting Rookwood. Based on the associations implied by Arcturus Black's pictures, it was possible that the existence and significance of the diary was a very closely guarded secret among their ranks—with the knowledge potentially limited to Karkaroff and his unit, which apparently included Rookwood and the assassin Borzakov. And the assassin had not even known the critical details. Tom hoped that Rookwood would talk, and reveal Karkaroff's location, as well as whether anyone in the criminal organization but Karkaroff knew about the diary.

The Serpents' Chalice, Diagon Alley, London.

Tom checked his pocket watch and suppressed his grin. Next to him, Griffith Diggory, Head of the Department of Mysteries, sat nervously. Tom had told him of his suspicions, and the man was utterly horrified. Although he was not briefed as to why Tom believed that Rookwood was a spy, he understood that his presence was necessary at any lunch involving the Minister and his own deputy, to allay Rookwood's suspicions.

"The photographs alone are not evidence against him," Tom said. "Many people have been photographed with Igor Karkaroff, including, of course, Mr. Black himself. I am certain that both Arcturus and Orion are innocent, though. The reasons I suspect our man are classified, but they will come out at his trial."

"Does this count, doing it this way?"

"Although I am not an Auror, I can act in the capacity of one as Minister, since they are under the Office of the Minister. I have the authority to make arrests that are within the Aurors' purview."

This satisfied Diggory, but he was still nervous for a different reason. When the door to the restaurant—the place Tom had met with the Wizarding Nationalists for years—opened again, Diggory jumped in his seat.

"Augustus!" the man recovered quickly as wiry, suspicious-eyed Augustus Rookwood entered the room. "Glad you could make it!"

"Wouldn't miss it, Boss," Rookwood muttered. "Minister. Lovely day."

Tom gestured at the end of the table. "Very lovely indeed. Have a seat. I bought this whole bottle. Help yourself." Tom already had a glass of firewhisky in front of him.

Rookwood helped himself to a shot and eyed the two men without saying a word.

"I am enjoying having my eldest daughter at home for the holidays," Tom said conversationally to Diggory. "She misses Quidditch, though." He smirked at the Department Head. "In the final game of the term, she scored the tie-breaking goal for Slytherin. They never fell behind again."

Diggory smirked back; the Slytherin team had played Hufflepuff that day. The two teams were locked in an intense rivalry this year. "We shall see who carries the trophy," he said loftily. "My family has been in Hufflepuff for a long time. That must have been an exciting game, though."

Rookwood was staring hungrily at Tom's briefcase next to his chair—which did not contain the diary today. Tom noticed and pointedly raised his eyebrows at the wizard. "You were in Slytherin, were you not?" he remarked.

Rookwood nodded at once, too quickly. "Yes," he said. "And I've heard about your daughter."

Tom did not like that comment at all. He was glad that Hermione had thought to ask Dumbledore to increase security at the school, even though this scum was going to be arrested. "Yes, my eldest daughter is an excellent Chaser," he said. He turned again to Diggory with a renewed smile. "Perhaps in a couple of years, there will be a new branch of your family, and we'll all see if the Sorting tradition continues."

Diggory grinned. "I've proposed to Anne-Claire," he said, still grinning, "and she said yes."

Tom had known this already—the former Chief Auror, who was now heading the Aurors' investigation of blood-supremacist links to Russian wizarding crime, had scrupulously told him about her engagement, although there was nothing unethical about it—but he played along and raised his glass in toast to Diggory.

Rookwood joined the toast, but he was paying closer attention to Tom's briefcase. Tom wanted to curse him. Did he think he could steal the diary and that somehow, Tom would not notice?

The three wizards had their meal, though Tom ordered and ate little. He was too excited with anticipation to eat much. At last, Diggory wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin. Tom finished his drink and rose from his seat. Diggory put down the napkin and followed suit.

Rookwood rose from his chair, almost tipping it over as he did. He chuckled in embarrassment and attempted to act naturally, but Tom could tell that he was itching for the chance to do something to the briefcase. Watching Rookwood out the corner of one eye, Tom inched forward—

Rookwood flicked his wand to try to break open the briefcase, but Tom was too fast. With every guest in the pub watching in interest and then shock, Tom deflected Rookwood's hex and sent a Stupefy at him. The man tumbled to the ground with a sharp slap against the tile floor. Tom swirled his wand through the air, casting a spell to enchain Rookwood's wrists, and then an Expelliarmus.

"Augustus Rookwood, you are under arrest for espionage, conspiracy against Wizarding Britain, possession and trade in restricted materials, and racketeering," he snarled at the man.

Almost as if on cue, a squad of Aurors entered the restaurant to take Rookwood away. Tom stood by, smiling in grim satisfaction, as they began to carry him—almost drag him, since the Stupefy was wearing off and he was beginning to struggle—out of the restaurant.

Rookwood threw off the hex. Turning to his Auror captors, he hissed, spittle coming from his mouth, "You should arrest him! The Minister has something in that briefcase that's very illegal—"

Contemptuously, Tom opened the briefcase, revealing nothing except ordinary government documents. "No, I don't. You are advised to be silent, Rookwood."

The Aurors pulled the wizard into the alley beside the restaurant, empty of anyone else. One of them closed the door behind them, preventing curious onlookers from involving themselves or gawking.

"The Minister has a Horcrux!" Rookwood roared desperately.

Tom scoffed with derision. Beside him, Diggory and several of the Aurors also sneered in disdain. The other Aurors did not appear even to know the word. "Is that Karkaroff's latest lie?" Tom sneered. "The latest tale to undermine a government that the blood-supremacist mob wants to take over? You are pathetic, Rookwood, and a fool to boot. You would be wiser to be silent."

"Horace Slughorn knows!"

Tom leaned in, his eyes dark and menacing. "Horace Slughorn will probably be a witness at your trial," he hissed. "Slughorn was the one you told about your illegal dealings in an animal part that is rather hard to get on the market, and another highly secret scheme by your criminal employer. We'll see what he has to say under oath in court."

Rookwood glared in fury and despair as the Aurors Apparated him away to the Ministry. Diggory gave Tom a sympathetic glance before disappearing next. Tom took a deep breath. This was done. The spy was in custody. Tom only hoped that he would hand them Karkaroff.

End Notes: I've referred repeatedly in this AU to Slughorn's inability to be trusted with sensitive information when tipsy in the company of "friends" (or people he thinks are friends—and he does not have the best judgment in that respect, much as I like him). I know that he kept deathly quiet about "that conversation" in canon, but Tom became Voldemort in canon, and old Sluggy is much closer to Dumbledore than he was in the canon timeline (as far as I know, he was never Deputy Headmaster there).