My enemy's enemy, is my friend…

The hands, the white hands that are not mine! Grasp the mirror, and raise it…

"No! God No!"

The glass shatters when it hits the ground; destroying the face of Voldemort where there should have been mine! The sound snaps me back to myself. (I need to keep calm, there must be an explanation, I'm dreaming… that's it! I'm having the worst dream of my life! But I'm dreaming!) I pinch myself, nothing, but it hurts! (…you can't feel pain in dreams…) and from calm to panicked again in an instant!

The scratching comes again, more insistent now. Enraged with everything I tear open the lid and roar, "Can I have some quiet at least! I'm having a crisis here!" Wormtail stairs at me with probably the biggest eyes I have ever seen. He cowers in the basket, shaking.

"Please my lord! Forgive! Forgive me I meant no… I'm still talking! I'll be quiet master, I will!" Disgusted I drop the lid back into place. (Well… that answers the question of where Wormtail disappeared to. What am I going to do? Someone will figure this out, I don't know Voldemort's behavioral patterns… they'll suspect Polyjuice, or something. …So, I need to find a way out of here, and quickly.) I scan the desk, looking for papers, anything I can bring back that could help us, but all the sheets are blank. (Spelled perhaps, it's worth a go.) I shove these into the robe. Then out the door, the tent flap drops back down silently.

I can only stare. There are at least three hundred tents, not counting the rough overhangs constructed, or the watch towers and shield posts. (Massive, if each of these tents holds four, as Hermione believes, then four times three hundred…) A group of death eaters are sitting around a fire, they seem a shabby lot. Further away I catch a glimpse of Mr. Malfoy as he heads towards his tent. He spots me, and starts walking over. (No! anyone but him! He'll know this is wrong the moment I open my mouth!")

He draws away from me, almost as if spooked. His eyes do not meet and hold mine, his hands are curled, what is this? "…My lord, is all well?" he visibly spooks again.

"…yes, all is…well. Where is Naginie?"

I only stare, where is Naginie? He would know better than I! He seems to sense a slip as well, his expression turns utterly hopeless. "…I do not… Lucius, last night…" I nod, eying him quietly.

"Last night, my lord?" he nods, still looking uneasy, he remains silent. "Last night, what of it do you wish to know, my lord?"

"…What, transpired." A moment later there is a shriek, I turn to stare; he is already facing that direction. Bellatrix has run out of her tent and is trying to stomp something into oblivion. I must assume with her troubled mind it was a fly, the stupid deranged wench… within moments the entire camp has come out to watch.

I turn amused, and the smirk falls from my face. He looks furious! Not that seeing him angry at her bothers me, but what? A slow hiss escapes his jaws, and his hand begins to tremble. There is a call from the bushes, the serpent guardians start to raise their heads. A slight breeze begins to blow. I back away, whatever she has done to bring this upon her, I cannot and will not assist. I've seen this before…

Abraxas and Voldemort paced across from each other, their wands at the ready. The circle was quiet… afraid to breath. It had finally come to this. A debate of what was too drastic was seething to split the first circle down the middle. Full out war, gorilla warfare? Civilians? Invade where? When? Abraxas pulled his shoulders down, bracing.

"Aduros Basium!"

"Calcos Impetus!"

Fire flashed through the air, the ground rocked beneath their feet. A crack split the silence like a twig, then the bang that followed nearly threw several to the floor. The two leapt back, calling out again.

"Saevio tempestas!"

"Eicelos!"

As Voldemort's wind buffeted his shield; Abraxas's knees began to sink. Voldemort pressed the advantage, he began laughing.

The laugh was gleeful, playful, innocent save for the unbridled malice slipping in between the sounds . It darkened, became higher, colder. Lucius felt himself shiver, and reveled in it. Abraxas sank to the ground, his arm shaking so badly he could barely maintain the shield. Then it happened. The laugh ended, and the expression became crazed, Voldemort drew back his arm, calling out something through the wind.

… The serpents came. Their eyes glowed, a deep bronze shade. Abraxas fought to rise, still the wind beat him down, his shield warped, and shattered. Voldemort stood silent, but his eyes were glowing, glowing the same shade of death. Lucius stepped forward moving quickly between his father and his Lord.

"No! You've proved your point, my lord… I believe he is worth forgiving." The eyes turned to Lucius, and the mouth hissed.

"That judgment… isss mine, to passss…"

Lucius stood very still, looked hard into those glowing eyes, but all that was there now was the Cobra king, and no hint of the Dark lords passing mercies remained. Lucius looked one last time at his father, a quiet glint was there, like a memory or a dream. Abraxas reached out to him, he gave a choked gasp, trying to say something… but he fell short. The reaching hand settled on the floor, and was still.

A depressed hush passed over everything, Lucius reached out too late, took the hand that was already growing cold. The look was still in his eyes, a lost wonderment; as if he did not believe the form crumpled on the serpent strewn ground would not rise again.

A hand settled lightly on his shoulder, Lucius looked up. The Dark one looked down at the fallen lord of Malfoy manner. They were cold those eyes, cold and somewhat pained. He took a deep breath. "…I have destroyed the greatest man of this age…and I will not mourn him…" His eyes turned to Lucius, and a small smile passed over his lips. "…at least, I will be able to finish what was so diligently begun. You will stand at my side now Lucius…" The fingers tightened, extended a warm pressure. "…And I will raise you to the heights of all the earth… may the glory of this line never fade." He knelt down beside the boy, pulling him into side as they both watched the fallen Lion king, once the pride of the Slytherin house, now only a sacrifice in a war not even begun. "… You were wiser than I. He …was the only one worth saving."

The moment was twisted, the shared comfort between a boy and his father's murderer, the Bond between a dark god, and the son of the only death he would ever regret.

Voldemort walked quietly down the corridors, he was mentally fighting the most confusing battle of his life, and loosing.

(Bodies switched? Possible, simply relocated into another body? Also possible, if my body was destroyed. If my body is whole? Possible but unlikely. Potter's mind in my body? …possible… odds of my body being destroyed if that is the case, highly probable.)

The hands clenched into fists, but relaxed again quickly. (Make a point of this. I stand in their stronghold completely undetected, if I can behave as he does. Wait till I find his wand, then strike hard and fast. For now, learn who the other ringleaders of these aurors are.) The hallway forked in two different directions. He stood a moment, debating which way he should turn. (Left or right. It won't matter, I will explore it all regardless.)

A soft caw drew his attention. Severus stood on the rafter in the left hallway; he met Voldemort's eyes, and froze. The wings spread, talons loosened their hold.

"Harry! There you are!" A girl ran up, her curly brown hair got in her eyes and she cursed as she brushed it away. It took him a moment to recognize her from their previous short encounters.

"What is it Hermione?" she smiled, laughed.

"Wrong? Nothing, unless you count that you scared the med staff, AGAIN, and you look like a skunk just sprayed you! What's wrong with you?" Voldemort closed his eyes, tried to ease his expression. (She is close to him, has always been close to him. Here, I can hurt the boy, but not yet…)

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just tired of the damn infirmaries. Hey, Hermione? What happened to my wand?" She looked at him quietly for a moment.

"…it should be back in your room. But you know that, that's where we've put it…"

Her eyes grew dark, "Harry… will you tell me something?" Voldemort smiled, (ah, so here will be a challenge.)

"Sure Hermione, what do you want to know?" her head turned slightly, and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye like a wicked colt that has realized its riders feet aren't in the stirrups. She drew breath to speak, but another shout echoed down the hall.

"Harry!"

This one he knew in a moment. Ron nearly barreled into him. "Good news! We've found the new base camp! They've already got it fortified, but they won't have any surprise now! We've got spies all over the forest!"

Hermione looked pale, she looked at Voldemort, and he looked at her. She knew, not who, but she knew that wasn't Harry. He hadn't ever worn that expression before, the eyes were too dark, and even his voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. He should be laughing right now, exchanging stupid jokes with Ron, but he looked at her, and she knew. She knew, and he knew it.