A/N: Can it be? Did I update? Whoa... anyhoo, it's late and I'm tired and I've been completely cut off from the outside world for the last month, so I will leave you with one more minor note. I know the story hasn't been really "suspenseful", but I promise it's coming. The next two chapters should be action-packed. Good night.
~~~
CHAPTER TWELVE: REDEMPTION
~~~
Several uneventful weeks passed. Helga Hufflepuff taught a few more Potions classes, and although the Slytherins still preferred Snape, the students from the other houses enjoyed it when she came in. Godric and Rowena Gryffindor decided to follow her example and step back into the classroom themselves. The seventh-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class witnessed a spectacular duel between Gryffindor and Professor Lupin, but the Charms class wasn't so enjoyable. Rowena was so much like Minerva McGonagall in personality and teaching style that it was almost like having Transfiguration. Nevertheless, it was a nice change of pace to get guest instructors, and everyone was learning.
One student, however, was getting worse every day - Draco Malfoy. He knew Voldemort was watching him, waiting for the perfect moment to use him. Draco agreed with the ideals upheld by Salazar Slytherin - it was all he had known while growing up - but the more he thought about it, the more he thought he had picked the losing side. Voldemort was powerful, and so was Slytherin, but so were Dumbledore and the other three Founders. Slytherin was Voldemort's only real asset; most of his Death Eaters had been killed or put in Azkaban after his last uprising was stopped the year before. There were only three of them - himself, Voldemort, and Slytherin - against Albus Dumbledore, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Gryffindor, and Helga Hufflepuff, not to mention the rest of the Hogwarts faculty and countless other wizards and witches scattered throughout the world that were loyal to Dumbledore. The odds were a bit uneven.
It was getting harder for Draco to make up excuses to explain his dark demeanor. No one believed him anymore when he said he wasn't sleeping well or that the workload from his classes was wearing him down. Hardest of all was to keep his secret from Padma Patil, whom he was becoming quite fond of and spent a lot of time either with or thinking about. On top of that, he hadn't heard from Voldemort in over a week, which could only mean the Dark Lord was planning something. Draco didn't bother asking himself why; he figured he would find out soon enough.
~~~
Voldemort's snake-like eyes followed Salazar Slytherin as he paced back and forth across the cabin floor, muttering to himself. He was getting impatient. They should have taken Hogwarts long before this. They should have done it immediately, before the other Founders were resurrected. He'd recovered by that point. And he didn't know how he was going to keep Slytherin from finding out that the others had been resurrected.
Voldemort sighed and drummed his fingers against the surface of the table he was sitting at. Maybe, he thought, he would be able to kill them before Slytherin could learn that they were alive...
"That's it," Slytherin said, interrupting Voldemort's thoughts. He stopped pacing, looked at his descendant, and repeated his statement. "That's it."
"What's it?" Voldemort asked.
Slytherin either ignored the question or didn't hear it. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before," he said. "It's so simple."
"Salazar!" Voldemort said loudly, getting Slytherin's attention. "What's it?"
Slytherin walked over to the table and sat down. "You said there were two that needed to be eliminated before a victory at Hogwarts could be guaranteed," he said. "Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter."
Voldemort nodded.
"Which, of those two, is it most essential that we get rid of first?"
That question was harder than it sounded. Dumbledore was older, more experienced, and therefore more powerful than Harry, but Harry... every time they faced each other, Harry walked away. It was as though he simply couldn't be killed. There was only once option at this point. "Dumbledore," he said. "He's the leader. If he is destroyed, there is no one that can rise up and take his place." Except maybe Godric Gryffindor, but he wasn't about to say that.
Slytherin sighed and closed his eyes. "My apologies, Emerius, but it must be done," he whispered.
Voldemort resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Slytherin opened his eyes and looked at Voldemort. "Here is what we must do," he said. "Dumbledore can be rendered useless without ever being touched. All we must do is strike at a weak spot."
"But he has no weaknesses," Voldemort said. "None that I am aware of, anyway."
"Everyone has a weakness," Slytherin said. Then, almost scoldingly, he added, "Yours is power."
"And yours?" Voldemort snapped in return.
"Nothing that can be used against me now," said Slytherin. "My brother."
He should have guessed. After all, it was because of Gryffindor's death that Voldemort left the school and swore to rid the world of Muggle-born wizards and witches. So his "noble purpose" really was pretty noble after all. Even after knowing this for weeks, Voldemort was still surprised by it. He had always expected his ancestor to be more like... well, him.
Slytherin continued. "We have ways of finding out. The Malfoy boy, what was his name?"
"Draco."
"Yes, Draco," he said. "Use him. Tell him to learn a weakness of Dumbledore's and to tell us what it is. We have an asset, and it's time we used it."
Voldemort nodded. "Very well. I will send an owl to him at once."
~~~
The letter from Voldemort renewed Draco's fear that he had joined the wrong side. Voldemort wanted him to find a weakness in Dumbledore. That was like asking him to use Avada Kedevra on the Minister of Magic in front of a thousand Aurors and expect to just walk away. How was he going to do that? Dumbledore seemed invincible. No one scared him, not even Voldemort. What was he going to do?
Draco reread the letter for perhaps the twentieth time. Voldemort didn't say why he needed him to find a weakness, but Draco figured it was probably to kill Dumbledore. Draco didn't understand. If Voldemort wanted Dumbledore dead, then why didn't he just kill him? Perhaps he couldn't...
At that instant, a light came on in Draco's head. Yes! Of course! Dumbledore was the one wizard Voldemort always feared, and that had to be because he was more powerful than him. Draco figured he could go to Dumbledore, tell him what was going on, and ask for protection. He was certain Dumbledore wouldn't refuse. Voldemort wouldn't be happy, but with Dumbledore protecting him, he would be safe. Voldemort and Slytherin needed him, and without his help, a victory on their side was next to impossible.
Draco folded up the letter, stuck it into his robes, and began his search for the headmaster.
~~~
Over in the Gryffindor common room, Neville Longbottom was still no closer to teaching the founder of his house how to play Go Fish. "It's really quite simple," the exapserated Head Boy said. "Look. Say you're trying to collect aces."
"But why would I want to collect aces?" Gryffindor asked.
"Because it's the object of the game to try and collect more pairs than your opponent," Harry Potter explained. Harry had temporarily taken over Parvati Patil's place in trying to teach Gryffindor the game, as Parvati was nowhere to be found.
"But I'm not collecting pairs," said Gryffindor. "I'm collecting aces."
Harry wanted to slap himself on the forehead. Instead, he gave Gryffindor a patient smile. "A pair is two of the same card."
"But isn't every card in a standard deck different?"
"He means same number," said Neville. "Say you have the ace of spades, and you want to get another ace. You would look at me and say, 'Neville, do you have any aces?' If I did, I would give you the ace I had in my hand."
"Why?"
"Because you asked for it and I was holding it."
Gryffindor smiled and nodded. "How polite."
"I suppose, but it's the rules," said Harry. "If Neville didn't give you the card, he would be cheating."
"And you don't want to cheat with this deck," Neville said, patting his cards. "If you do, they jump up and down and dance around you and chant, 'Cheater, cheater, cheater!' Then you break out in a horrible rash for a week."
Now Gryffindor looked more disappointed than confused. "I hoped that people would play by the rules out of honesty, not fear of being cursed."
"The curse is just a precaution, you know, mostly for the wizarding casinos," said Harry. "And it's not like we know from experience. That was just a warning on the box."
Gryffindor sighed and shook his head. "It's all very confusing."
Before they could get on with explaining the rest of the game, the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, and an angry-looking Parvati Patil stormed inside. She muttered hellos to Neville, Harry, and Gryffindor, then sat down on a couch at the opposite end of the room with her head down and her arms folded across her chest.
Neville leapt to his feet and jogged over to her. "Hey," he said, sitting down next to her, "are you all right?"
She shrugged.
Neville reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "What's going on?" he asked. "Where have you been?"
"Trying to talk some sense into my sister," Parvati replied.
"Is she still in to Malfoy?" Harry asked, walking over to the couch. Gryffindor was close behind.
Parvati nodded.
"Well, it can't be too bad," Harry said. "I mean, look on the bright side. What are the chances that Malfoy would even bother with a girl that isn't from Slytherin? Slim to none."
Parvati shook her head vigorously. "No, you don't understand. Draco likes her, too. I overheard Millicent Bulstrode telling Tracey Davis that he's planning to ask Padma out any day now."
Harry cringed. So did Neville. No wonder Parvati was so upset. This was a serious issue.
"I don't understand," said Gryffindor.
"Draco Malfoy is bad news, Lord Gryffindor," said Parvati. "I know you've been trying to get us to give him a chance, but he doesn't deserve one. And it doesn't have anything to do with him being a Slytherin. It's about him being Draco Malfoy."
"Maybe he is not all he seems to be," Gryffindor said.
"I think he's more," said Neville. "More evil, that is."
Gryffindor closed his eyes, and a soft sigh escaped his lips. Clearly, it was going to take a lot of work for them to see Draco, or any other Slytherins, for that matter, in another light. Perhaps their opinions would change if he became involved with Padma Patil. Would Parvati trust her sister's decision? He knew from experience that if you couldn't trust your own flesh and blood, you could trust no one.
~~~
At the other end of the school, Draco was ready to redeem himself when he rounded a corner and saw the person he was looking for. Only he wasn't alone. Dumbledore was deep in conversation with Minerva McGonagall, one of Draco's least favorite people. And - he almost couldn't believe it - were they holding hands? How interesting.
He ducked back around the corner before they could see him, but didn't leave. Perhaps he would overhear something that would prove useful in some way or another.
"I'm worried, Albus," Minerva was saying. "It's been over a month since the resurrections, and Hogwarts hasn't been touched. Shouldn't Voldemort have attacked by now?"
"He could be biding his time," Dumbledore suggested.
"But why? Why didn't he attack the moment he brought Slytherin back? Why the delay?"
"First of all, he was probably too weak," he said. "You experienced firsthand the effects of the resurrection spell. Secondly, Voldemort is a cunning enemy. He's waiting."
"For what?"
"For anything. We cannot drop our guard. We cannot give him an opening."
"And Salazar Slytherin?" Minerva asked. "How do we deal with that factor?"
"We already have," Dumbledore said, and ran his fingers over the scars on her left arm.
She glanced at the scars, then back up at him. "But you know the stance Godric has taken, and Rowena and Helga are with him. They will not fight Slytherin."
Draco nearly jumped at those words. The other Founders wouldn't fight Slytherin? All of a sudden, telling Dumbledore the truth didn't seem like such a good idea after all.
"It will be difficult," Dumbledore admitted. "As they have told us, Slytherin is not evil, but he is the most powerful wizard in history. If Voldemort tricked him into using that power against us..." There was no need for him to finish.
"So it was pointless," said Minerva. "The resurrection... it was all in vain."
"It was not in vain," he insisted. "We've learned so much from them. Now the world can finally know the truth about the Hogwarts Four."
"The truth," she repeated. "Was the truth worth Nicolas Flamel's life?" She froze when she realized what she had said, and stammered, "I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to..."
"I know," he said, and kissed her on the forehead. "Nicolas knew what he was getting in to. I don't know if he knew it would kill him, but I am sure he knew he was taking that risk."
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"I do," he replied. "Nothing. None of us have been acting quite like ourselves in the last few weeks."
"You're still as strong as ever."
"Well, perhaps, but it's taken a great deal of effort."
Draco decided that he'd heard enough and started to walk back toward the Slytherin dormitories. This conversation had changed everything. Gryffindor and the others were alive, but they weren't going to fight Slytherin. Professor McGonagall couldn't possibly be the only teacher losing hope. And Dumbledore himself said that Slytherin was the most powerful wizard in history. He and Voldemort were a threat after all, and nothing could stop them once Dumbledore was out of the way. Draco wasn't sure if what he planned to tell Voldemort could be considered a weakness, but if nothing else, it was a place to start.
He had redeemed himself after all.
~~~
"Minerva McGonagall," Voldemort said, setting down the letter Draco sent him. "Of course."
"Who?" Slytherin asked.
"Transfiguration instructor at Hogwarts," Voldemort explained. "Deputy headmistress, head of Gryffindor house, Animagus, and Order of Merlin, second class."
"Pureblood?"
"Half. Her mother was a Muggle."
Slytherin arched an eyebrow. "You seem to know a lot about her."
"She was four years ahead of me at Hogwarts," Voldemort said. "Call it a schoolboy crush that never really went away." He sighed and skimmed over the letter again. "So she's with Dumbledore. If we somehow captured her, do you think he'd be stupid enough to come after her?"
"If he's in love with her, yes," said Slytherin. "Love tends to make people behave... irrationally."
"But how are we going to get her?" Voldemort asked. "She's not as powerful as Dumbledore, but she's no weakling. It won't be easy."
"I would have expected my descendants to be more cunning than what I have seen from you thus far," Slytherin said. He narrowed his dark eyes. "Think, Lord Voldemort. We cannot just walk up, grab her, and go. Even if we could get in, it would be easy for them to stop us. But suppose it didn't happen that way. Suppose she just vanished into thin air."
Voldemort's lips twisted into a smile as he realized what Slytherin was saying. Perfect. Slytherin had his uses after all. And according to Draco, the other Founders would not fight Slytherin. For the first time since he learned about the resurrection of the other three, things were working out better than he had anticipated.
"You know what must be done, then?" Slytherin asked.
Voldemort nodded. "Portkey."
Slytherin smiled, but did not speak. There was no need for words.
Voldemort sat down at the table and began to compose his next list of instructions for Draco. The plan was so simple it was practically foolproof. Better yet, by the time anyone at Hogwarts realized what happened, it would be too late.
~~~
CHAPTER TWELVE: REDEMPTION
~~~
Several uneventful weeks passed. Helga Hufflepuff taught a few more Potions classes, and although the Slytherins still preferred Snape, the students from the other houses enjoyed it when she came in. Godric and Rowena Gryffindor decided to follow her example and step back into the classroom themselves. The seventh-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class witnessed a spectacular duel between Gryffindor and Professor Lupin, but the Charms class wasn't so enjoyable. Rowena was so much like Minerva McGonagall in personality and teaching style that it was almost like having Transfiguration. Nevertheless, it was a nice change of pace to get guest instructors, and everyone was learning.
One student, however, was getting worse every day - Draco Malfoy. He knew Voldemort was watching him, waiting for the perfect moment to use him. Draco agreed with the ideals upheld by Salazar Slytherin - it was all he had known while growing up - but the more he thought about it, the more he thought he had picked the losing side. Voldemort was powerful, and so was Slytherin, but so were Dumbledore and the other three Founders. Slytherin was Voldemort's only real asset; most of his Death Eaters had been killed or put in Azkaban after his last uprising was stopped the year before. There were only three of them - himself, Voldemort, and Slytherin - against Albus Dumbledore, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Gryffindor, and Helga Hufflepuff, not to mention the rest of the Hogwarts faculty and countless other wizards and witches scattered throughout the world that were loyal to Dumbledore. The odds were a bit uneven.
It was getting harder for Draco to make up excuses to explain his dark demeanor. No one believed him anymore when he said he wasn't sleeping well or that the workload from his classes was wearing him down. Hardest of all was to keep his secret from Padma Patil, whom he was becoming quite fond of and spent a lot of time either with or thinking about. On top of that, he hadn't heard from Voldemort in over a week, which could only mean the Dark Lord was planning something. Draco didn't bother asking himself why; he figured he would find out soon enough.
~~~
Voldemort's snake-like eyes followed Salazar Slytherin as he paced back and forth across the cabin floor, muttering to himself. He was getting impatient. They should have taken Hogwarts long before this. They should have done it immediately, before the other Founders were resurrected. He'd recovered by that point. And he didn't know how he was going to keep Slytherin from finding out that the others had been resurrected.
Voldemort sighed and drummed his fingers against the surface of the table he was sitting at. Maybe, he thought, he would be able to kill them before Slytherin could learn that they were alive...
"That's it," Slytherin said, interrupting Voldemort's thoughts. He stopped pacing, looked at his descendant, and repeated his statement. "That's it."
"What's it?" Voldemort asked.
Slytherin either ignored the question or didn't hear it. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before," he said. "It's so simple."
"Salazar!" Voldemort said loudly, getting Slytherin's attention. "What's it?"
Slytherin walked over to the table and sat down. "You said there were two that needed to be eliminated before a victory at Hogwarts could be guaranteed," he said. "Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter."
Voldemort nodded.
"Which, of those two, is it most essential that we get rid of first?"
That question was harder than it sounded. Dumbledore was older, more experienced, and therefore more powerful than Harry, but Harry... every time they faced each other, Harry walked away. It was as though he simply couldn't be killed. There was only once option at this point. "Dumbledore," he said. "He's the leader. If he is destroyed, there is no one that can rise up and take his place." Except maybe Godric Gryffindor, but he wasn't about to say that.
Slytherin sighed and closed his eyes. "My apologies, Emerius, but it must be done," he whispered.
Voldemort resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Slytherin opened his eyes and looked at Voldemort. "Here is what we must do," he said. "Dumbledore can be rendered useless without ever being touched. All we must do is strike at a weak spot."
"But he has no weaknesses," Voldemort said. "None that I am aware of, anyway."
"Everyone has a weakness," Slytherin said. Then, almost scoldingly, he added, "Yours is power."
"And yours?" Voldemort snapped in return.
"Nothing that can be used against me now," said Slytherin. "My brother."
He should have guessed. After all, it was because of Gryffindor's death that Voldemort left the school and swore to rid the world of Muggle-born wizards and witches. So his "noble purpose" really was pretty noble after all. Even after knowing this for weeks, Voldemort was still surprised by it. He had always expected his ancestor to be more like... well, him.
Slytherin continued. "We have ways of finding out. The Malfoy boy, what was his name?"
"Draco."
"Yes, Draco," he said. "Use him. Tell him to learn a weakness of Dumbledore's and to tell us what it is. We have an asset, and it's time we used it."
Voldemort nodded. "Very well. I will send an owl to him at once."
~~~
The letter from Voldemort renewed Draco's fear that he had joined the wrong side. Voldemort wanted him to find a weakness in Dumbledore. That was like asking him to use Avada Kedevra on the Minister of Magic in front of a thousand Aurors and expect to just walk away. How was he going to do that? Dumbledore seemed invincible. No one scared him, not even Voldemort. What was he going to do?
Draco reread the letter for perhaps the twentieth time. Voldemort didn't say why he needed him to find a weakness, but Draco figured it was probably to kill Dumbledore. Draco didn't understand. If Voldemort wanted Dumbledore dead, then why didn't he just kill him? Perhaps he couldn't...
At that instant, a light came on in Draco's head. Yes! Of course! Dumbledore was the one wizard Voldemort always feared, and that had to be because he was more powerful than him. Draco figured he could go to Dumbledore, tell him what was going on, and ask for protection. He was certain Dumbledore wouldn't refuse. Voldemort wouldn't be happy, but with Dumbledore protecting him, he would be safe. Voldemort and Slytherin needed him, and without his help, a victory on their side was next to impossible.
Draco folded up the letter, stuck it into his robes, and began his search for the headmaster.
~~~
Over in the Gryffindor common room, Neville Longbottom was still no closer to teaching the founder of his house how to play Go Fish. "It's really quite simple," the exapserated Head Boy said. "Look. Say you're trying to collect aces."
"But why would I want to collect aces?" Gryffindor asked.
"Because it's the object of the game to try and collect more pairs than your opponent," Harry Potter explained. Harry had temporarily taken over Parvati Patil's place in trying to teach Gryffindor the game, as Parvati was nowhere to be found.
"But I'm not collecting pairs," said Gryffindor. "I'm collecting aces."
Harry wanted to slap himself on the forehead. Instead, he gave Gryffindor a patient smile. "A pair is two of the same card."
"But isn't every card in a standard deck different?"
"He means same number," said Neville. "Say you have the ace of spades, and you want to get another ace. You would look at me and say, 'Neville, do you have any aces?' If I did, I would give you the ace I had in my hand."
"Why?"
"Because you asked for it and I was holding it."
Gryffindor smiled and nodded. "How polite."
"I suppose, but it's the rules," said Harry. "If Neville didn't give you the card, he would be cheating."
"And you don't want to cheat with this deck," Neville said, patting his cards. "If you do, they jump up and down and dance around you and chant, 'Cheater, cheater, cheater!' Then you break out in a horrible rash for a week."
Now Gryffindor looked more disappointed than confused. "I hoped that people would play by the rules out of honesty, not fear of being cursed."
"The curse is just a precaution, you know, mostly for the wizarding casinos," said Harry. "And it's not like we know from experience. That was just a warning on the box."
Gryffindor sighed and shook his head. "It's all very confusing."
Before they could get on with explaining the rest of the game, the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, and an angry-looking Parvati Patil stormed inside. She muttered hellos to Neville, Harry, and Gryffindor, then sat down on a couch at the opposite end of the room with her head down and her arms folded across her chest.
Neville leapt to his feet and jogged over to her. "Hey," he said, sitting down next to her, "are you all right?"
She shrugged.
Neville reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "What's going on?" he asked. "Where have you been?"
"Trying to talk some sense into my sister," Parvati replied.
"Is she still in to Malfoy?" Harry asked, walking over to the couch. Gryffindor was close behind.
Parvati nodded.
"Well, it can't be too bad," Harry said. "I mean, look on the bright side. What are the chances that Malfoy would even bother with a girl that isn't from Slytherin? Slim to none."
Parvati shook her head vigorously. "No, you don't understand. Draco likes her, too. I overheard Millicent Bulstrode telling Tracey Davis that he's planning to ask Padma out any day now."
Harry cringed. So did Neville. No wonder Parvati was so upset. This was a serious issue.
"I don't understand," said Gryffindor.
"Draco Malfoy is bad news, Lord Gryffindor," said Parvati. "I know you've been trying to get us to give him a chance, but he doesn't deserve one. And it doesn't have anything to do with him being a Slytherin. It's about him being Draco Malfoy."
"Maybe he is not all he seems to be," Gryffindor said.
"I think he's more," said Neville. "More evil, that is."
Gryffindor closed his eyes, and a soft sigh escaped his lips. Clearly, it was going to take a lot of work for them to see Draco, or any other Slytherins, for that matter, in another light. Perhaps their opinions would change if he became involved with Padma Patil. Would Parvati trust her sister's decision? He knew from experience that if you couldn't trust your own flesh and blood, you could trust no one.
~~~
At the other end of the school, Draco was ready to redeem himself when he rounded a corner and saw the person he was looking for. Only he wasn't alone. Dumbledore was deep in conversation with Minerva McGonagall, one of Draco's least favorite people. And - he almost couldn't believe it - were they holding hands? How interesting.
He ducked back around the corner before they could see him, but didn't leave. Perhaps he would overhear something that would prove useful in some way or another.
"I'm worried, Albus," Minerva was saying. "It's been over a month since the resurrections, and Hogwarts hasn't been touched. Shouldn't Voldemort have attacked by now?"
"He could be biding his time," Dumbledore suggested.
"But why? Why didn't he attack the moment he brought Slytherin back? Why the delay?"
"First of all, he was probably too weak," he said. "You experienced firsthand the effects of the resurrection spell. Secondly, Voldemort is a cunning enemy. He's waiting."
"For what?"
"For anything. We cannot drop our guard. We cannot give him an opening."
"And Salazar Slytherin?" Minerva asked. "How do we deal with that factor?"
"We already have," Dumbledore said, and ran his fingers over the scars on her left arm.
She glanced at the scars, then back up at him. "But you know the stance Godric has taken, and Rowena and Helga are with him. They will not fight Slytherin."
Draco nearly jumped at those words. The other Founders wouldn't fight Slytherin? All of a sudden, telling Dumbledore the truth didn't seem like such a good idea after all.
"It will be difficult," Dumbledore admitted. "As they have told us, Slytherin is not evil, but he is the most powerful wizard in history. If Voldemort tricked him into using that power against us..." There was no need for him to finish.
"So it was pointless," said Minerva. "The resurrection... it was all in vain."
"It was not in vain," he insisted. "We've learned so much from them. Now the world can finally know the truth about the Hogwarts Four."
"The truth," she repeated. "Was the truth worth Nicolas Flamel's life?" She froze when she realized what she had said, and stammered, "I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to..."
"I know," he said, and kissed her on the forehead. "Nicolas knew what he was getting in to. I don't know if he knew it would kill him, but I am sure he knew he was taking that risk."
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"I do," he replied. "Nothing. None of us have been acting quite like ourselves in the last few weeks."
"You're still as strong as ever."
"Well, perhaps, but it's taken a great deal of effort."
Draco decided that he'd heard enough and started to walk back toward the Slytherin dormitories. This conversation had changed everything. Gryffindor and the others were alive, but they weren't going to fight Slytherin. Professor McGonagall couldn't possibly be the only teacher losing hope. And Dumbledore himself said that Slytherin was the most powerful wizard in history. He and Voldemort were a threat after all, and nothing could stop them once Dumbledore was out of the way. Draco wasn't sure if what he planned to tell Voldemort could be considered a weakness, but if nothing else, it was a place to start.
He had redeemed himself after all.
~~~
"Minerva McGonagall," Voldemort said, setting down the letter Draco sent him. "Of course."
"Who?" Slytherin asked.
"Transfiguration instructor at Hogwarts," Voldemort explained. "Deputy headmistress, head of Gryffindor house, Animagus, and Order of Merlin, second class."
"Pureblood?"
"Half. Her mother was a Muggle."
Slytherin arched an eyebrow. "You seem to know a lot about her."
"She was four years ahead of me at Hogwarts," Voldemort said. "Call it a schoolboy crush that never really went away." He sighed and skimmed over the letter again. "So she's with Dumbledore. If we somehow captured her, do you think he'd be stupid enough to come after her?"
"If he's in love with her, yes," said Slytherin. "Love tends to make people behave... irrationally."
"But how are we going to get her?" Voldemort asked. "She's not as powerful as Dumbledore, but she's no weakling. It won't be easy."
"I would have expected my descendants to be more cunning than what I have seen from you thus far," Slytherin said. He narrowed his dark eyes. "Think, Lord Voldemort. We cannot just walk up, grab her, and go. Even if we could get in, it would be easy for them to stop us. But suppose it didn't happen that way. Suppose she just vanished into thin air."
Voldemort's lips twisted into a smile as he realized what Slytherin was saying. Perfect. Slytherin had his uses after all. And according to Draco, the other Founders would not fight Slytherin. For the first time since he learned about the resurrection of the other three, things were working out better than he had anticipated.
"You know what must be done, then?" Slytherin asked.
Voldemort nodded. "Portkey."
Slytherin smiled, but did not speak. There was no need for words.
Voldemort sat down at the table and began to compose his next list of instructions for Draco. The plan was so simple it was practically foolproof. Better yet, by the time anyone at Hogwarts realized what happened, it would be too late.