Harry,

You know, I think the Malfoys embody everything I hate about purebloods. There's an arrogance to them that's so intrinsic to them that they're completely blind to their own mediocrity. Like, Draco keeps trying to hit on me, but the best line he could come up with was that "our union would create a magically strong bloodline", which is just… ugh.

Of course, given the state of "romance" over here, that's hardly surprising. Did you know that arranged marriages still happen in magical Britain? While it's not outlawed in Europe, it's not really done, either. At least signing marriage contracts on behalf of someone else has been outlawed for over a century. It used to be that parents, guardians, or even distant ancestors could sign marriage contracts that people way down the line would have to deal with. What a nightmarish scenario that would be.

Back to the Malfoys, though. Not only are they unbearable, their interior decoration is so gaudy. Not only is the manor far too big for any one family, it's full of gilding, marble pillars, trellises, and vaulted ceilings. It just screams "nouveau riche".

On the bright side, Voldemort has mellowed out since we went to lunch. I think she's just satisfied that I'm talking to someone about my frustrations. She still pops in and acts as cringeworthy as ever, but it's less often and less unbearable.

I really don't understand her. You'd think that being an empath would make it easier to understand people, but it really just makes it harder. You'd be amazed how many people don't understand their own emotions. Voldemort does feel emotions, but they're so bizarre. It's like they're being warped through a lens or something. I can identify the emotion she's feeling, buy it always feels… twisted? That sounds harsher than it really is, but I can't think of another word to describe it.

Anyway, that's all the venting I wanted to do. I'm surrounded by ridiculous weirdos, and it's taking its toll on my sanity. Barty Crouch, Voldemort's head researcher, has been a fun conversational partner, at least. He's extremely quick witted (which makes sense, since he's a genius by both Muggle and magical standards) and is the only one besides Greyback whom I've seen tease Voldemort. On the downside, he has a completely shameless crush on her, which is just… ew. Thank gods she doesn't return the sentiment, or I'd have to barf every time I see them.

Talk to you later.

Delph

Delphini (Delph? Delphi? I don't know which you prefer.)

Yeah, I can confirm that the Malfoys are insufferable. Draco lacks any form of subtlety and is extremely used to getting his way. Did you know that he actually bought his way onto the school quidditch team? He had his daddy buy the whole team Nimbus 2001's just so he could secure the seeker position. He's not even a good seeker! I've seen him during pickup games and he makes a better chaser or keeper than seeker. Part of me suspects that he was just jealous that I got the role and had to have it for himself.

I'm extremely sorry that you have to deal with him hitting on you, and I'm even more sorry that you have to listen to his poor excuses for pickup lines. His name-calling isn't any better. I'd probably find it funny if my friends and I weren't on the receiving ends of those insults on a regular basis. Then again, maybe I should just laugh at him the next time he tries to insult us. I wonder how red I can make his face get!

I'm glad to hear that Voldemort is giving you the space you need. She really does mean well, but I don't think she actually understands people. Like, at all. You know that she actually came to me for advice on how she should interact with you? Ironically, I told her not to over-assert herself, so you'd probably have been driven mad if I hadn't given her that advice!

Voldemort mentioned Barty to me on a few occasions, though I don't think she mentioned that he was her chief researcher. I'm glad to hear that you've found a verbal sparring partner, though I don't know if I'm ready to forgive the man for his role in entering me into the Triwizard tournament. I had to outfly a dragon, for Merlin's sake!

Anyways, if Malfoy continues to give you problems, just let me know and I can provide you with some descriptions of the more embarrassing things that have happened to him over the years. For example, at the end of our third year, one of my friends slapped him so hard that he fell over. The fact that she's muggleborn just made it all the sweeter. Feel free to lord that over him the next time he gets in your face.

Hope to hear from you again soon.

Harry

Harry folded up the letter and gave it to Hedwig, who then took to the skies with a soft bark. He watched as she swooped over the nearby houses before vanishing from sight.

Delphini had been an… interesting penpal. Having someone to talk to was really helping him, and her irreverent attitude was honestly refreshing. She wasn't afraid to tell someone off if they annoyed her. Harry had been on the receiving end of those tirades on two occasions, as Delphini didn't want to read about his 'angsty bullshit'.

Some of that attitude was born of her empathic abilities. Apparently, such skills were incredibly hard to 'turn off', so it was easier for her to just yell at people for having emotions that annoyed her. Harry made a note to learn about the mind arts once he was back at school. Between Voldemort knowing legilimency and Delphini being an empath, it seemed like a field that would be useful to have some background in.

Still, he'd sent off his letter for the day. He'd stopped bothering to contact Ron, Hermione, and Sirius by this point, as he was tired of basically receiving the same letters every time.

With that task out of the way, Harry left his room and slipped out of the house, not sparing any thoughts for Vernon or Petunia as he left. He was perfectly content with the new status quo in which they all ignored each other.

Harry stepped out into the hot summer air, feeling the warmth of the sun bringing feeling back into his body. Petunia insisted on keeping the house at 17°C, presumably to prevent Vernon from sweating his bollocks off every night. Dudley may have been improving his figure over the past year, but Vernon had made no such effort.

Barty was doing some analysis of the ward scheme surrounding Azkaban prison when Voldemort Blinked into the room, as she often did. Barty made a mental note to tease her about her aversion to doors at a later date.

"Okay, I think I'm as prepared as I can be." Voldemort said as she laid out various pieces of equipment on the nearby table. "I don't think I could kill any fair folk with everything I have here, but I should at least be able to buy enough time to make an escape if things go south. Hopefully, I should be prepared for every eventuality."

Barty raised his eyebrows as he looked over the gathered supplies. "Are you prepared for the fae to take offence when you meet with them armed to the teeth? I mean, cold iron may work well to injure them, but they know that. The only thing worse than having to deal with a fae is having to deal with an offended fae."

"That's a good point…" Voldemort replied. "But… I already went through the trouble of getting them. Do you know how hard it is to get cold iron these days? It has to be made through purely muggle means to be magically desaturated enough to actually work against fair folk. No mages make weapons to those specifications, and most muggles prefer working with steel or forged iron. This stuff is hard to get, and it's only good for one use."

Barty sighed. "Voldemort, you really need to stop panicking about this."

Irritation flashed across her features. "I am not-"

"You don't want to die again." Barty interrupted. "You're used to being the most powerful person in the room, and you know that if things ever go bad, then you can power your way through. You've used your insane magical power and skill as a crutch in every situation. The last time you were outclassed, Lily Evans Potter killed you."

Voldemort's entire body was clenched in irritation. She made no attempt to rebuke him.

"I know that you're going to be dealing with extremely powerful beings, but you can't let that fuel your paranoia and go in there covered in every form of anti-faerie weaponry imaginable."

She stared at him for a while longer before finally speaking up. "I'm going for a walk."

"Take your time, Voldie." He said as he casually as he could. Voldemort hated having her flaws pointed out, and would inevitably need time to get over it.

Voldemort Blinked out of the room, leaving him alone again. Barty turned back to the notes he was going over. He'd been able to identify enough weak points in the Azkaban ward system that he could take it down in five blows, but he was pretty sure he could get that number down to three with a bit more work…

Harry sat down in the park near Magnolia Crescent and began watching the neighbourhood. It was a hobby he'd gotten into when he was younger, watching the people around the neighbourhood to see what sort of useless things they were fretting about these days. People rarely noticed him when he did it, too. If not for the fact that he could still do it today, he might have assumed it was accidental magic.

Accidental magic stopped by the age of thirteen, though, so that was clearly impossible. Regardless, Harry wasn't about to complain about being able to sit around and listen. He'd never mentioned it to Ron and Hermione, but he would periodically just sit under the invisibility cloak and listen to people as they walked by. It was a soothing activity, in its own weird way.

"Your aversion charms need work, Harry." Voldemort said as she sat down with a huff.

Harry went wide eyed at the sight of an annoyed Dark Lady sitting next to him. That anger didn't seem to be directed at him, but still…

"Seriously, this is decent work, but it won't fool any mage, nor will it fool anyone who's actively looking for you. I'd score this as an A at best."

"Um…" Harry was so lost. "What are you talking about?"

"The aversion charms around this area." She said with a gesture. "They're good, for someone of your age, but they could use some work."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't cast any spells. How could I have when I still have the Trace?"

Voldemort blinked. "You haven't removed the Trace from your wand? Hell, Dumbledore hasn't removed the Trace from your wand?"

"Um… no?" Harry's confusion was only increasing. "Why would he do that? Isn't it illegal?"

She scoffed. "Of course it's illegal, but that shouldn't stop you from doing it. I can't speak for your father, but your mother had the Trace removed from her wand by the time she was fourteen. Sirius and Pettigrew both did it during their fifth year, though I'm not sure about the other two Marauders. As for the why, you'd expect that Dumbledore would go to greater lengths to keep you protected given that he believes I'm still out to kill you."

That… was a surprisingly good point. "Can you remove the Trace from my wand?" Harry asked hopefully.

The corner of Voldemort's lip twitched into a smile for a brief moment. Harry was glad that her mood was improving from the brooding state she'd been in when she first arrived. "And give you a free shot at me? No thank you. In theory, I could remove the Trace from your wand. I did so at the age of fifteen, so I'm familiar with the process. Regardless, doing so here would essentially be alerting the Ministry that 'The Trace has been removed from Harry Potter's wand'. It's best done at Hogwarts, where the wards muddle the various tracking charms."

"Oh." Well that was disappointing.

"I'll tell you what, though. If you manage to get the Trace removed from your wand by Yule without any outside help, then I'll answer a question of your choosing. One guaranteed straight answer."

That was such a tempting offer that Harry didn't even have to think about it for more than a second. "Deal."

"Now, let's take a look at those aversion charms…" Voldemort pulled out her wand and slowly swept it through the air. Her brow furrowed. "Huh. How long have you known freeform magic?"

Harry was upfront this time. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

She sighed. "The two forms of magic that most people are familiar with are accidental magic and wanded, or 'focused' magic. Accidental magic is chaotic and unpredictable, fulfilling a powerful emotional need in unpredictable ways capable of causing collateral damage. It's the most versatile form of magic, capable of doing almost anything, but by its very nature, it cannot be controlled."

Harry had never actually heard someone explain magic having different structures. His attention was easily drawn into this explanation.

"Focused magic is ordered and structural. It causes predictable effects regardless of who casts it, and in a vast majority of cases, one's emotional state has little to no effect on the spell. It's the most limited form of magic, but it makes up for that by being comparatively easy to learn and easy to teach.

The thing you need to remember is that wands are over two millennia old, but humans have been able to use magic for much longer than that. Moreover, wands were prohibitively expensive until around fifteen hundred years ago, when advancements were made to the process. For aeons before that, humanity had been using magic through either rituals, or freeform casting.

Freeform magic is old magic, so old that it predates any known civilisation. It's not wild, like accidental magic, nor is it ordered, like a focused spell. It just is. It is magic, shaped by pure desire and made real through pure will. Very few people have any natural skill with it, and a decent chunk of the population can't learn any at all. One of my apprentices is an absolute genius at almost all forms of magic, but he's never been able to do freeform despite trying for years."

Harry took all of that in. "So you're telling me that I have been casting freeform aversion charms around myself whenever I people watch?"

Voldemort vanished from the bench beside him and reappeared standing in front of him. "Bingo!" She said before raising an eyebrow at him. "You know, you're just making yourself more desirable as a student the more I interact with you. I haven't met any prodigies naturally talented with freeform magic besides, well, myself."

He groaned. "Are you still on about that?"

"Of course. You don't think I'd be spending so much time with you if I didn't have an ulterior motive, did you? You are pleasant company, but I am a very busy woman. Making daily visits for over a month would be infeasible if I didn't have something to gain."

Harry glared at her. "And that 'something' is me."

Voldemort laughed. "Of course! Harry, you are an immensely talented person, but you've never been given an environment in which you can flourish — an environment I am more than willing to provide."

He wasn't going to deal with that right now. Voldemort's continued insistence on training him could be addressed later.

The two sat in silence for a while before Voldemort spoke up again.

"How are you able to be brave, Harry?"

Harry blinked. That question seemed to come out of nowhere. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean… I'm not brave, Harry. For decades, I've been the most powerful person in almost every situation. Even when my victory wasn't assured, like when I fought Dumbledore or your parents, I could always rely on being able to escape if I lost. How are you able to bring yourself to step into a situation where you don't know if you'll be able to come back?"

"…Are you complimenting me?"

"I do have a healthy amount of respect for you." Voldemort said casually. "While you've done things that are reckless or foolish, you have an astounding ability to come out on top. You've repeatedly faced danger without any assurances of your own victory, or even your own safety. How… how are you able to do that?"

Harry stared quizzically at her. "Why are you asking?"

Voldemort sighed and shifted her position to better face Harry. "I have to do something dangerous. Obscenely dangerous. So dangerous that I'm not sure I'll come back."

"You came back before. You even used my blood to do it."

"Barty and I had to modify a highly advanced reincarnation ritual while subverting the significant amount of protections around you and the Tournament. And I had to do that while recovering from a disincarnation induced fugue state. Frankly, I'm amazed it worked as well as it did. Besides, I was only able to come back because I still existed. I cannot say if the same will be true after my upcoming escapade."

Harry didn't even know where to begin with that. "What?"

"I need to get blood from a fae." Voldemort said with a sigh.

His brow furrowed. "Fae? Like the fair folk from medieval stories?"

"Essentially, yes. There are strict rules of protocol for interacting with them, rules that have been determined through generations of trial and error, but Fair Folk can be extremely capricious even at the best of times. And they are extremely powerful."

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know, but… "How powerful?"

Voldemort gestured around the neighbourhood. "Consider the relationship humans have with their environment. This place was once forest, but through years of work and refining of techniques, we have begun to terraform our planet. An entire biome can be eradicated from an area and recreated elsewhere. California is full of agriculture despite most of the state being a natural desert. Humans can, through tools, determination, and time, completely change their environment."

That was a very… novel take on humanity. It wasn't wrong, but it wasn't something he'd heard before.

"Now imagine a creature whose relationship with reality parallels that of humanity and their environment. A creature that could, through sheer force of will, alter the state of what is. What was. What has always been. The notion of reality altering can be a bit alien to those not already familiar, but… when a fae wants you gone, they don't have to kill you. They can wipe you from existence, undoing everything, wiping your entire life from history. No one would remember you because you were never born. And that's just what one can do on their own. Hordes of fae focused on the same goal could radically alter history, retroactively subjugating our species before we have the capacity to fight back. Luckily for us, their relationships with each other are as capricious as they are with humans. That and they find us too 'interesting' to want us gone."

Harry hadn't given much thought to the Fae since joining the magical world. He'd read a few stories about them as a child, of course, but they weren't mentioned at all in any of the magical books he'd read. "Is it true that they can steal your names, too?"

"I'm not sure." Voldemort replied. "I do know that the Fae have an unusual relationship with names, but there's too much contradictory information for me to figure out what that relationship is. I'm not sure how such things would affect me, actually. It's not like I use my birth name, but if I don't use it, is it really mine?"

"Look on the bright side. If they do manage to steal your name, you'll never have to use it again. I mean, Riddle isn't a terrible surname, but I don't blame you for not wanting to be called-"

Her wand was in his face faster than he had time to process. "Don't say it." She hissed through clenched teeth.

"Right." Harry said. Well, that was definitely a stark reminder that she was still a Dark Lady, friendly demeanour aside. "The diary mentioned her hatred of the name, but I sort of assumed you'd grown out of it with, uh, the rest of your… more dramatic tendencies."

Voldemort rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I was an obnoxious little shit as a teenager. That's just part of growing up, though. Believe me, you'll look back on this part of your life as an adult and be extremely embarrassed about a lot of the stuff you did."

"Like having casual conversations with Lady Voldemort in a public park?"

She laughed good-naturedly. "Hopefully not that. My birth name is genuinely awful though."

"Yeah, it is pretty bad." Harry said sympathetically.

"I know that my mother was dying, but there are so many sensible names she could have given me, like Emily! Or Cecilia! Or Tamsin! Or even Tamelyn! Or literally anything else!"

"So, if you prefer going by Voldemort, then why are people afraid of saying the name?" Harry asked.

Voldemort groaned. "It's a bit of a stupid story. So, to start with, it's worth noting that very few people know that Lady Voldemort and Miss Riddle are the same person. I took pains to ensure that the identities are very separate. The only people who know the truth are a few members of my inner circle, and Dumbledore. Dumbledore made a point of calling me by my birth name the first few times we met on the field of battle, but I dissuaded him of that notion. Violently."

"Um… I'm not sure if I want to know, but how did you do that?"

"By violently killing every spectator. After the second time I did that, he connected the dots and hasn't called me by my birth name since."

Harry didn't know what he expected. "That seems excessive. So how does this tie in to people being afraid of referring to you as Voldemort? Because it seems like that was the opposite of what you wanted."

"Ah, well, it's kind of stupid. Basically, word got around that I was killing anyone who said my birth name. However, most people didn't know that I wasn't originally named Voldemort, and thus became afraid of saying that instead."

"That's…"

Voldemort shrugged. "Yeah, like I said, it was kind of stupid. It did technically work, though, as the few people who know my birth name certainly aren't spreading the info around."

Harry didn't have anything to add, so he just sat back and let her vent. She went on for some time, until a new voice cut her off.

"What the hell are you doing here, Potter? And who the hell is that?"

"Dudley." Harry greeted tersely. "I could just as easily ask what brings you here. Did you run out of primary schoolers to steal lunch money from?"

Dudley scoffs. "Very funny, Potter. Who is she, though? I've never seen her around before."

"I've been here almost every day for the past month and you never noticed me? You really must be as much of a dullard as Harry implied." Voldemort retorted.

"I've got better things to do than keep track of my freak cousin." Dudley said. "So who are you and what's your deal?"

"My name is Miss Riddle." She replied coolly. "I am a businesswomen interested in giving Harry an apprenticeship."

"Why would you want him, though?"

"Because," Voldemort said as she stood up to her full height, towering over Dudley, "Harry has certain talents that you lack."

Dudley's eyes went wide in fear. "O-oh, you mean…"

"Yes, I do mean." She said in a sibilant tone that reminded Harry of parseltongue. "So if you'd kindly-" she cut off abruptly.

"If, if I'd kindly what, ma'am?" Dudley asked hesitantly.

"Shut up. Harry, get your wand out. Something is coming."

Harry stood up and did as asked. "What kind of something?"

"I don't-" Voldemort began before a chill swept through all of them, despite the summer heat. "Dementors."

Clouds began to roll in, shrouding the area in darkness.

"What-what are you two doing?" Dudley asked, fear creeping into his voice. "Stop it!"

"Shut up and get behind us if you value your soul." Voldemort hissed.

"No! I won't let you threaten me!"

The cloaked figure of a dementor emerged from the shadows, and Dudley half ran, half stumbled behind them and then kept running. Harry didn't bother to keep track — he was more focused on the threat in front of him.

"I'm going to try to negotiate with it." Voldemort said under her breath. "It recognises me. If it doesn't agree to keep my being here quiet, then I'll have to kill it."

"You can kill dementors!?" Harry whispered.

"Yes. Now, be quiet so I can talk with it."

Voldemort began making deep, guttural noises at the dementor, which responded by emitting deep resonances which felt like they made the whole world vibrate. This continued for a minute before Voldemort spoke in English once again.

"Shit."

"Didn't work?"

"Nope." Voldemort swished her wand in the shape of a star, then did an additional flourish to wave her wand in a circle. "Profligare Carcerem!"

She staggered back as a bolt of purple-white lightning shot out of her wand. The wand struck the dementor and formed a crackling cage around it as it flailed and struggled.

"I have not spent the past decade staying under the radar only to have my plan foiled by a loudmouth abomination! Be! GONE!"

The cage imploded, and with one final unearthly wail, the dementor was gone, leaving only a tattering cloak fluttering slowly to the ground. Voldemort collapsed to one knee, breathing deeply from exertion. It was only when the shock of seeing a dementor die wore off that Harry realised that the effects of dementor proximity were still persisting.

Voldemort seemed to realise that at the same time that he did, as she looked over her shoulder to face behind them. "Son of a bitch, there's another."

Harry turned to see a dementor cornering Dudley against a tree. Dudley seemed almost comatose.

"What are you waiting for?" Harry asked. "Destroy it!"

"That spell takes a lot out of me. I need a moment before I can cast it again."

Dammit, they didn't have a moment. As the dementor began to pull down its hood, Harry made a snap decision.

He levelled his wand at the dementor. Five swishes in the shape of a star. One clockwise flourish. "Profligare Carcerem!"

Harry understood why Voldemort staggered — that spell took more magic than anything he'd ever cast before. As the lightning connected with the dementor, he became acutely aware of it. It wanted freedom. It wanted to devour. It wanted revenge on him for this. It wanted to exist.

Harry forced his will up against the dementor's and slowly began crushing it. The dementor wailed and screeched in protest, but those quieted until it too was crushed beneath the imploding spell.

Harry only became aware that he was on the ground when Voldemort began shaking him.

"Harry! Wake up, dammit! We don't have much time!"

Harry slowly pushed himself upwards. "Wha…?"

"Good, you're conscious. I have to say, I'm impressed. Have you ever cast that spell before?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Should I have?"

Voldemort sighed. "Harry, you just cast an insanely advanced spell with no practice after seeing it one time."

Was that… really that impressive? Harry had done that all the time. It was easier when the stakes were higher, but still.

"Second, you're a much better person than I am. Had I been in your situation, I'd have just left him to die."

Harry didn't have anything to say to that. Voldemort pulled him up, though she was obviously feeling shaky on her legs, too.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. "I mean, you're supposed to be insanely powerful, but that spell took a lot out of you."

Voldemort guided Harry to the bench and sat down next to him. "Normally I'm much more powerful. Remember how I used self transfiguration to take on this appearance shortly after my resurrection? Well, there's a reason people don't usually do self transfiguration, let alone one as extensive as what I've done. It eats up a huge amount of my magic reserves, so I can't use nearly as much or as powerful magic as I'm used to."

"Funny. I'd have thought you'd value power above all else."

"I'd like to feel comfortable in my own body." She muttered. "I've been without one long enough."

An owl flew by and dropped an envelope in Harry's lap.

"You'd better read that quickly." Voldemort said.

Harry broke the wax seal and looked at the contained letter.

Dear Mister Potter,

At seventeen minutes past three this afternoon, the Trace on your wand recorded you using a Banishing Cage spell.

As this is your second violation of the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under Section III, Subsection VIII, Paragraph 4 of the Treatise for Maintaining the International Statute of Secrecy in the British Isles.

Aurors will be by momentarily to snap your wand.

Have a nice day!

Mafalda Hopkirk

Office of Improper Use of Magic

"Well that's not too bad…" Voldemort said as she read over his shoulder.

"Not too bad!" Harry exclaimed. "I've been expelled from school! They're going to confiscate my wand!"

"There are alternatives to continue your education!" She retorted. "Besides, the real risk is-"

Another envelope was dropped in Harry's lap.

"-that."

Harry opened the envelope and read the new letter.

Dear Mister Potter,

On further review of your case, it has come to the attention of the Ministry that you cast a Class IV Dark Art in an occupied muggle area. As such, you are hereby being charged with:

–Violation of the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery

–Violation of the International Statute of Secrecy

–Illegal use of a spell banned under the 1663 Reforms on the Use of Summoning Magic

Aurors will be by shortly to arrest you until such time that you can be tried for the above crimes. Additional charges may be added depending on the analysis of the crime scene.

Should you attempt to flee, you will be immediately sentenced guilty and an appropriate bounty will be placed on your head.

Have a nice day!

Mafalda Hopkirk

Office of Improper Use of Magic

"Shit. Harry, look me in the eye."

"What?" Harry glanced up and the moment he made eye contact, found himself being pulled until he and Voldemort were standing alone in a dark grey expanse.

"To save you the trouble of asking, I am using mind magic to allow us to communicate directly. It is much more efficient than speaking which is very important because we do not have much time. Are we clear?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. You have two choices in front of you. Choice one is that you join me right here and now. I will keep you safe from the Ministry and do everything I can to train you to be the greatest mage possible. Option two is you face the Ministry. You will be tried and charged for the crimes outlined in that letter, and face whatever consequences you end up with. No matter what choice you make, I will do all I can to keep you safe, but I cannot offer any guarantees should you face the Ministry. Choose quickly."

Okay, wow, that was a lot to take in. Harry considered his choices. A guarantee of safety under Voldemort's thumb, or a gamble with his freedom under the rule of law.

Harry wished he could say it was an easy decision. A month ago, it would have been. But after seeing Voldemort every day for a month, going out to lunch with her, meeting her daughter, and just generally talking, he felt far more conflicted than he was comfortable admitting. The one thing holding him back was Voldemort's caginess about her goals. While he sure that she had her reasons for keeping them under wraps, her reluctance made him think it was something he wouldn't approve of. He wasn't comfortable putting himself in a position where he might have to compromise his morals.

"I think that I'll take my chances with the Ministry." Harry said.

Voldemort nodded. "So be it. I'll do my best to have your back."

Then she hugged him. It was weird and unnerving and surprisingly comfortable all at once.

"Take care. I'll be in touch."

Then Harry was back in the real world and Voldemort disappeared with a crack. It didn't take more than a few seconds before several more cracks sounded through the area. Several people had their wands trained on him, and the one in charge started yelling at him.

"Wand on the ground and hands in the air! You're under arrest!"

Harry had no shortage of experiences being manhandled in his life, most of it attributable to the Dursleys. That said, being manhandled by aurors as he was taken through the Ministry Atrium was probably one of the worst examples he'd experienced, though. He'd probably put it on par with Vernon grabbing him by the arm to shove him into the cupboard.

The Ministry Atrium was pretty though. Harry wished he wasn't being horribly manhandled so he actually had time to appreciate it. The dark stone architecture was something to behold, though he could do without the gaudy gold statue.

Harry was honestly beginning to consider the idea that he should have taken Voldemort up on her offer. Morally compromising or not, he was sure it would have been less demeaning.

Thankfully, those thoughts were interrupted when a familiar voice stopped them.

"May I ask what you are doing with Mister Potter?" Dumbledore asked the aurors.

"Harry Potter has been charged with numerous crimes including the use of a Class IV Dark Art in an occupied area." The lead auror told him. "He's being transported to a holding cell until the date of his trial."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but maintained his otherwise placid expression. "Well, luckily for you, there's no need for that. I'll watch over Harry until the date of his trial."

"You're not the Chief Warlock anymore, Dumbledore. You have no right to-"

"I believe you'll find that I do. I may not be Chief Warlock anymore, but I am still the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and minors attending Hogwarts who have been accused of a crime can be placed under house arrest under the supervision of a member of the faculty."

"Mister Potter has been expelled for violating the Restriction of Underage Sorcery. He is no longer a student there."

Having it said out loud stung, but Dumbledore didn't seem perturbed. "As he has been charged with crimes relating to the incident in question, the expulsion has not been finalised. Mister Potter is still a student of Hogwarts for the time being."

The auror scowled. "Fine, take him. His wand is staying in evidence, though, and we'll be checking the treaties to make sure this is all above board. He better show up for his trial or there will be hell to pay!"

"Of course. Now, if you'd please remove the suppression cuffs so we can be on our way?"

With one final nasty look, the bindings keeping Harry's hands behind his back were unlocked, and the suffocating presence that had been restricting Harry's magic vanished.

"Um… Sir?" Harry asked as Dumbledore guided him to the floo.

"Not now Harry. We can speak shortly."

Harry left the floo with his usual lack of grace, landing on the carpeted floor of the room. He was surprised to see that he was in Dumbledore's office, though he wasn't sure why he should be surprised. Was this what Dumbledore meant by house arrest?

"Are you alright, Harry?" Dumbledore asked upon seeing Harry gracelessly lying in a heap on the floor.

"I'm fine, sir." Harry said as he stood up and brushed off his clothes. It felt weird being at Hogwarts in muggle clothes, but there were more important things to focus on for now.

"I'm glad. Much as I'd like to hear all the details about what happened, I'm sure you'd prefer some time to cope. We'll be moving to a secure location, so listen closely to what I am about to tell you.

"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number 12, Grimmauld Place."

There was a magical tingle to the words, but Harry couldn't identify any effects of them. "What was…?"

"The fidelius charm." Dumbledore replied. "Had I not told you myself, you'd have no way of knowing or finding the location. We moved here first to avoid any potential eavesdroppers learning sensitive information. We have no way of knowing who might be under Voldemort's influence."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. Over the past month, he'd sort of forgotten that most people knew Voldemort as the terror who murdered hundreds, not the weird, awkward woman who wanted a relationship with her teenage daughter and had a preoccupation with food. The idea of an insidious Dark Lady with ears everywhere was so bizarrely juxtaposed with the image he'd formed of her that he almost started laughing then and there.

Fortunately, Dumbledore misread his reaction. "I know it's scary, but that's the reality of our situation. Don't worry, Harry. We are currently acting in whatever manner we can. Voldemort will not go unopposed."

Harry wasn't sure how much he cared about that at the moment. "Let's just go, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well then, if you're sure. You know the address, and I'll be right behind you."

Another disorienting floo trip later, Harry was once again on the floor.

He heard Hermione's voice come from a nearby room. "That must be Professor… Harry? Harry, what are you doing here?"

He pushed himself upright. "Well, there was a bit of an incident…"

Harry sighed in relief as he shut the door to the room he and Ron would be sharing. He'd shared his story at least three times, and was grateful for a chance to breathe. "What a day…"

"You're telling me, mate." Ron added. "I mean, really, dementors in that boring area? No way that can be coincidence. They were there for you, weren't they?"

Harry realised that in the heat of the moment, he forgot to ask Voldemort why the dementors were there in the first place. "They must have been."

Ron shuddered. "Still, I wonder how Voldemort will react now that this assassination attempt failed."

Harry pushed himself upright on the bed. "What if it wasn't Voldemort?"

"Why wouldn't it be her? I mean, who else could it be?"

Harry really doubted it was Voldemort. Yes, she could have set this up as some sort of elaborate false flag operation, but that really didn't seem to be her style. Besides, she seemed honestly surprised by the presence of dementors in Little Whinging. "It just… doesn't seem like her style, you know?" He said. "She's been all about dramatic confrontations and climactic showdowns. Sending a pair of dementors to do her dirty work just doesn't seem like her."

Ron pondered that for a moment. "You do have a point, but I can't really think of anyone else who could. Voldemort is one of the only people known to be able to speak with dementors, so she's the obvious culprit."

"But the Ministry has some sort of leverage over them, right? Why else would they guard Azkaban?"

"The Ministry does have some way to control them, but they've always been really cagey about what exactly it is. Don't want other people being able to do what they do, I reckon. I think only the Minister and some of the department heads are authorised to know how they do it."

So the number of potential candidates was incredibly small and incredibly powerful. "Great."

Ron shrugged. "Sorry, Harry, but there's not much to be said about it. The Ministry is pretty secretive about dementors."

Harry slumped back on his bed. He went to cast a Tempus charm before remembering that he didn't have a wand. This was going to suck.

A knock sounded on the door. "You two are decent, right? You're not playing a game of strip exploding snap or anything, right?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yes, Tonks, we're decent. And I have never played a game of strip exploding snap."

The door was kicked open and an androgynous woman with bright pink hair tied up in a loose ponytail bun barged in. "Wow, you Gryffs really are sticks in the mud, aren't you? We played strip exploding snap all the time in Hufflepuff. There were some really fit guys and gals in Hufflepuff, let me tell you. Anyway, here's your stuff, Harry. Nicked it from your relatives while they were fussing over your cousin." She dropped all of his things at the foot of the bed with a resounding thud. "So, how are you holding up? Dementors are nasty things."

Harry shrugged. "Well enough."

Ron laughed. "I imagine it's nothing compared to Voldemort herself, eh Tonks?"

Tonks shuddered. "Don't remind me."

That grabbed Harry's attention. "You've met her?"

"Ugh, yeah. She grabbed me from my doorstep once so she could give me a speech next to a seaside cliff, and on another occasion she broke into my flat and stole some of my bubblegum!"

Yeah, that sounded about right for Voldemort. She didn't seem to have a good sense of boundaries.

"She keeps trying to recruit me, too."

Harry barely resisted the urge to say 'You too?'.

"Maybe you should try hanging around her more." Harry said, half joking, half serious. "You might warm up to her."

Tonks shot him a glare. "No thank you. It's bad enough that I have to keep hanging out around here because I can't trust my flat's security."

"Don't pretend that you don't enjoy hanging out with us." Ron said as he pulled out a comic book.

"Yeah, yeah."

A light tapping sound came from the window, and Harry jumped out of his bed to let Hedwig in. She fluttered into the room and held out her leg to Harry. He eagerly grabbed the envelope off of her leg and tore it open.

"Who's the letter from, Harry?" Tonks asked.

"A pen pal. She goes to Durmstrang. I met her last year during the tournament."

"Oh, so it's a girl, huh?" Ron said, his comic falling to the wayside. "What's she like?"

"She's, uh, nice?"

Ron's grin grew wider. "'Nice', huh? Saw Cho wasn't interested and started hitting it up with a Durmstrang girl?"

"Yes, she's nice, and we're just friends."

"Yeah, yeah. So what's her name?"

"Delphini. We've been exchanging letters for more of the summer. It was nice having someone to talk to over the summer, because unlike some people, she kept me in the loop on what was going on in the magical world."

Ron held his hands up in mock surrender. "Believe me, I'd have liked to, but the adults were having none of it. They kept screening any letters Hermione and I wanted to send and insisting that we edit them down. We figured getting a boring letter would be better than shutting you out completely."

Harry grumbled to himself. He still wasn't happy about it.

Tonks stood up. "Well, if you two will excuse me, I have actual business to attend to. Business that does not include nosing in on the potential love lives of fifteen year olds."

"Your loss!" Ron called out as she shut the door.

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled out the letter. Idiots.

"What the fuck do you mean there were fucking dementors!?" Delphini yelled at her mother. "Why the fuck were there dementors in some boring-arse muggle town that no one gives a shit about!?"

"Because someone wanted Harry silenced. He is either kissed and dies, or he defends himself and is tried in court. We're currently facing the latter outcome. Rest assured, I have Lucius working to make sure he comes out fine regardless of the trial's verdict, and I will personally intervene if things become too dire."

"Yes, but who? Who the hell did this?"

Voldemort's brow furrowed. "Is this amount of swearing normal for kids these days? On some level, I feel like I should be concerned about your language as a parent, but I also don't want to overstep by imposing outdated cultural standards on you. Should I be concerned?"

Delphini groaned and rested her head in her hands. "Just answer my damn question."

"I don't know who did this. Someone close to or loyal to Fudge who took the slandering a little too far."

"You'll kill them, right?"

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Just checking…" Delphini mumbled. "I'm going to go have some tea. Make sure it hurts when you do it, mum."

Voldemort smiled. "Of course."

She kept smiling even after Delphini left the room. That acknowledgement felt good.

"Aw, wasn't that sweet." Barty said from behind her.

"Shut the fuck up, Barty."

Barty did not shut the fuck up. He just kept laughing.

Voldemort ignored him and went to steel herself for tomorrow. If this was going to be her last day on Earth, it helped to end it on a high note.

It was time to meet the Fae.

A/N (Tendra): Harry, Delphini, and Voldemort are all good influences on each other. It's adorable. I'll make sure to include more hugs in the future.

Fair Folk have been given lots of different personifications throughout the years. I tend to be preferential to the "capricious demigods" interpretation, in which the only reason that they haven't enslaved humanity is because of how boring that would be.

I'm sure many of you want to know Voldemort's birth name. Too bad.

So, we're finally getting into the actual plot of OotP. Most of the story until now has just been filler to help show the characters and establish their relationships to each other.

Get the most recent updates for my fics on discord at: 6YwQewK

E/N (Xgenje): MommyMort is best Mort, as the 'hip' kids say.

E/N (Foadar): A beta is never late, Tendra, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he is meant to. - In reference to being the last person to look this over. Finally getting into the meat of OotP is a great feat for the story however.