Elena woke that morning knowing the world had changed; some primary element had shifted and the balance between light and dark was unsteady. Something woke her and it warmed her soul despite the knowledge she held. It reminded her of Albus, sharp and heartening across the sky. She thought it might be a phoenix song.

At some point the news officially reached her that Albus Dumbledore had been slain. She cried into Donal's chest and he wept into her hair. Then she rose and read the note the headmaster had given her in preparation for this day. It was short and asked one simple favor of her, a way she could make someone's life a little better.

As she didn't have an owl of her own, she sent it using Donal's, the letter bearing her name, her relation to Albus Dumbledore as a longtime friend, and the knowledge that this young man who had sacrificed so much was not the traitorous killer the world now believed him to be. If he liked, he could write her without judgement, for she knew the evil he had to endure and admired his strength in a way he could not know.

She washed after that, considering her next actions. What she was considering was foolish, but she was drawn to do it all the same. When Donal met her that evening for dinner, he could see it in her eyes.

"When will you go?" he said, holding her hand in his as he always did when they were together.

"Tomorrow." She sighed. "I know it's strange, to want to see him after all these years."

He shook his head. "Not at all, love. He impacted your life greatly and you want to face him before all of this is over."

"And it will be soon."

"Yes."

They washed the dishes together and adjourned to the little porch in front of her small house to while away the night. They would not sleep together the night before she faced the Dark Lord, but they could still stare into the darkness hand-in-hand.

"My lord, there is someone outside the gate," Lucius said, kneeling gracefully before Voldemort's throne-like seat in the Malfoy drawing room. At the arch of the skin where the Dark Lord's brow should be, he added, "She says she is here to see you."

How curious. Voldemort tilted his head, considering. "Did she tell you her name?"

"No, my lord, but she insisted you would see her."

"What does she look like? Is she a threat?"

Lucius' brows furrowed as he thought, bringing the stranger to mind. "She is older than I am, my lord. Perhaps around Dolohov's age. Small, frail in build. Dark blue eyes, short hair of blonde and white." He was struggling to think of something more precise, but Voldemort cut him off with one spidery hand. He was certain he knew who this visitor would be.

"Bring her in." The man nodded in a half-bow and turned on his heel to obey. "Antonin, Theodorus," he hissed to the surrounding Death Eaters. "Stand beside me, please. I believe we are having ourselves a little reunion." A part of him was surprised she had finally come to him even while another had expected her to return much sooner, begging for an end to her isolation. He'd have permitted it of course (after proper admonishment); she was useful enough and there was almost a certain fondness for her not unlike what he felt with his inner circle. He was disappointed she hadn't married; he would have thrilled to murder someone she loved, delighted in seeing her break down. Oh well. She was never that foolish, at least when it came to those she said she loved.

The woman who followed Lucius Malfoy confidently into the drawing room was miles away from the brittle little girl he'd met at Hogwarts decades ago. She was even different from the young woman he'd convinced to take a drink with him in the Hog's Head. She still kept her hair short and it was streaked with white now. The delicate lines on her face spoke of joy, laughter. That surprised him and he felt the curl of anger at his chest.

She dressed well enough these days, a long, loose skirt billowing around her small form, a nice blouse. She had light makeup on as though it were a daily ritual and had nothing to do with him. She met his eyes and they widened briefly when they landed on him, but if she felt any fear, she did not show it.

"Elena, pet. I was starting to think you would never come around," he said at last. His gaze roved over her appreciatively. "The years have been kind to you."

Her own eyes flicked down and up his form in a perfunctory manner. "I can't say the same for you."

Voldemort threw back his head and laughed, the high, slithering sound winding through the room. As his gaze settled back on her, he saw Elena shift uncomfortably. "Come now, sweetheart. Surely I look better than the last time you saw me?" He stepped down and glided toward her, Nott and Dolohov flanking him like the good minions they were. It occurred to Voldemort that it was a good thing Bellatrix was out at the moment; she would be furious with the woman before him. "You must admit there's a certain… presence to this appearance."

She was just as small as he remembered her and he wondered if she still cried as prettily. He raised a hand and she lifted her wand, pointing it at his chest. "Do not touch me, Tom."

His vision hazed with red even as his Death Eaters grew still around them; they knew better than to utter that name, than to even think it. Voldemort wordlessly, wandlessly caught her wand and her flinch was almost nonexistent. "You should know better than to antagonize me, Elena. Luckily for you, I am a forgiving lord." He leaned into her from his considerable height advantage, sniffing along her throat. She didn't move. "You haven't been disobeying me, have you?"

Elena stepped back from him. "I did not come to join you."

He caught her wrist, marveling once more at those fragile little bones that shifted in his grip. "That isn't what I asked, sweetheart. Try again."

Her nostrils flared and her jaw set as she stared up at him as though it was no matter that he had part of her under his control. "I have neither wed, nor born any children. I would not wish any being to fall under your wand and you know it."

Voldemort tutted, tugging the petite woman toward him. "Then what is it I smell on you, Elena? A lover, perhaps?"

She twisted her wrist, wrenching it toward her to no avail. "I live alone in a one room cottage. I sleep alone every night other than my cat. You did not say I couldn't have friends, couldn't exchange embraces."

He smiled down at her. "It seems our little pet has finally grown a backbone. Well done, sweetheart." He released her wrist, considering her. "If you are not here to join me, why have you come? Did you perhaps want to spend some alone time with me, relive a little of the past?"

"I wanted to ask if you still think magical children are precious," she said evenly. Elena folded her arms across her chest, no doubt to keep her limbs further from him.

"Of course," he lied smoothly, leaning back against the table there for meetings. "That's what all this is for, the future and the children who will live in it."

The little witch sneered, actually sneered! "A future you intend to rule over."

Voldemort spread his hands wide, smiling. "There must always be a leader, pet."

She shook her head and chewed on her lip in thought, an old habit he was amused to see still existed. "Leave Hogwarts alone, Tom."

"Stay the night, Elena."

"This isn't a negotiation," she declared. "Leave Hogwarts alone."

He tipped his head, studying her. "Or what?"

"Albus is dead." Elena drew a breath, her eyes surveying Dolohov and Nott behind him before returning to stare up at his face. "I've kept my oath. I am no longer bound by it."

This was entirely too much and he found himself chuckling again. "Are you threatening me?" Voldemort shook his head. "You are hardly intimidating, pet. Frail, wandless, into my warded territory. Who said I would allow you to leave, let alone fight against me?"

"You said you'd let me go."

"And I did," he retorted. "Not my fault you've returned to me."

"I will not serve you."

"Not willingly, no." Voldemort moved to cup her cheek, but she stepped back once more. "Radcliffe may be dead, but his sons and especially his daughter in law serve well in his place. Antonin has learned a few new tricks as well. I'm sure any one of them would love to indulge you."

She straightened up as though she hadn't slowly been retreating from him. "You're no longer able to indulge yourself?"

"Careful, pet," Voldemort purred. "You're playing with fiendfyre."

"Since the day I first gave into you," she admitted.

A part of him wanted to play with her, to give her the pain she clearly desired, forcing her to become once again the sweet little victim he'd enjoyed so much. However, he remembered what he had told her when they parted after her father's funeral. Elena had been obedient to his orders. Much as he wanted to keep her, he would give her the choice to accept his previous offer. "I would be happy to, pet. Spend the evening here and allow me to taste the limits of this new courage of yours and I'll consider your request that I leave Hogwarts be."

Her eyes weighed him shrewdly. This new, grown Elena was intriguing. He wondered how much more she'd be had she not lived the life of abuse she had. "You give me your word you will not interrupt the school year, you will allow me to leave in the morning, and I will stay… willingly."

His lips quirked at the last word. Elena knew how he valued willingness. That particularity had not changed even when he only newly had a body capable of carnal pleasures again. "I will swear to those with one caveat." At the question written across her face he said, "If Harry Potter takes the war to Hogwarts I will follow. Otherwise, I leave the school in the capable hands of its headmaster."

"You swear it?" she insisted.

"I swear upon this wand that I will release you in the morning and that I will not interrupt the Hogwarts school year unless Harry Potter goes there first." Voldemort held his wand aloft, grinning at her even as he said the words and the pulse of his oath rippled outward. He looked at her expectantly as he lowered his wand again. "Well?"

Elena tapped her lips once, that considering glint still in her eyes. She nodded to herself, inclined her head to him and said, "Then I am yours for the evening."

Notes: Elena's decision to seek Tom out probably seems illogical. However, she has experienced a lot of pain and abuse in her life; for some, this leads to a desire to overcome that trauma, to face it. That's what she's doing here. Does her bargain with him here actually change anything? Probably not. Voldemort always seemed to respect the school year well enough. But she made it all the same.

I had initially thought Chapter 54 or 55 would be the last. But I had to add a bit more. I asked my husband for his opinion on whether or not this was going to happen and he thought that would be more organic than just cutting the interaction there. So... yeah. Next chapter is gonna have some inappropriateness. I thought it would be interesting to see how Voldy has changed and how he's stayed the same.

The end is nigh.