The Dark Lord read over the girl's letter for a third time.
Evanna was missing from the dorms for two days. There were rumors she was unconscious in the Hospital Wing. When she returned, her betrothed quickly found her in the Common Room, along with a crowd of the children of your followers lost in the Battle of the Ministry. He demanded his father be reached, to which Evanna readily agreed, before heading and soothing the complaints of the others. She then promised to keep one of the first years safe. All the while, Draco Malfoy seemed to stand guard over her, ready to attack whoever got too close. I fear she won many allies, who may not be so loyal to you my lord.
His daughter was clever, he knew. She had a politician's tongue and could win people to her with a shy smile and determined word. She did not quite possess the self-assured charisma he had in his youth, but the girl had her own charms.
It troubled him, however. He knew without a doubt that Severus's loyalty lay more with his daughter than Voldemort himself these days. And now it seemed that she may have won the new generation. There was little that a band of underage wizards could do to him now, but it could become a problem in the future.
The question was, was his daughter still loyal to him?
On the one hand, it may well be that she had soothed the ruffled feathers of the young ones after his rage at losing the Prophecy. Voldemort knew that the more horcruxes he had created, the time spent as a lost spirit, recreating his body-he had lost some of his patience along with the good looks that always drew others to him. Evanna would allow him that edge again.
On the other hand, was she to be trusted?
He did not think the girl had the same kind of ambitions as he. She seemed to genuinely want the world transformed, and believed she could do it. However, she was less entranced by power itself. And then the boy…
It was altogether too suspicious that his daughter had been missing during the time of the Battle of the Ministry. He had seen dark spells flying in the memories of his Death Eaters, powerful ones, and had assumed them either to be not-so-friendly fire or that perhaps Dumbledore's people were not the bastions of the light they were presumed to be. He had not seen any sign of his daughter on either side. That did not mean she was not there, however. His girl was resourceful, he knew, and her obsession with Harry Potter was growing ever more worrisome by the day.
The safest route would of course be to dispose of her before she could become a thorn in his side. He may have to work harder to win over the new generation of wizards, those who had grown up hearing of Harry Potter as a savior and had now attended school with a Dark Lady. Voldemort knew from experience that the loyalty expressed by those who had attended school with him was of a different sort than those who came after, with exception of perhaps Bella. They had challenged him, oh yes, but in ways that strengthened him. Yet, he knew that he would not be betrayed by them. He no longer had to work for his younger followers to follow his every word, but he knew should someone more powerful come along, they would abandon him.
Someone like his daughter had the potential to become.
Strangely, there was something in him that baked from the thought of killing the girl. It was most unfamiliar. He had killed his parents-his mother had died the moment he entered the world. He had also murdered his grandparents, sent his uncle to imprisonment in Azkaban. He had long experience with kinslaying. Neither had he invested too much time in the girl. He might have if things had gone according to plan all those years ago, but as it stood…. He had taught the girl what he could over her school breaks, and had been pleased with her talent, despite the deficiencies Lucius had created with his harsh training. She was bright and determined, and had soaked up all he had to give her, from knowledge, to power, to attention. When he showed her how to fly over the winter break, he had been reminded of when he discovered he had the power to make his will reality, to rise above what those surrounding him claimed he could become. He had been freed from his tormentors the day he realized he could make them do as he wanted.
In so many ways, the girl was like him. Powerful and charming, with a history of abuse and neglect feeding into a desire to prove herself. He had to find a way to cement her loyalties, though, to pull her forever out of Potter's arms.
Killing Potter had proved more difficult than he had once expected. The boy had layered protections around him, all orchestrated by Dumbledore. By the old man's standards, if the boy was the chosen Arthur pulling the sword from the stone and saving Briton, then the Headmaster was the mentor Merlin, ensuring the boy lived long enough to fulfill his destiny. If the mentor died, however, the boy would go unprotected.
A plan began to form, one that could kill two birds with the proverbial stone. His daughter, much like him, despised the meddling old headmaster. She had already killed one man she despised on her father's orders, it was certain she would do it again if given the opportunity. And if she was not strong enough to survive a confrontation with the old coot, well, then Voldemort would know that she had not been worth the effort to win over and she would be disposed of any way. But if she did succeed, his old enemy would be dead and all the influences pulling her away from her father's side would no longer stand by her. Harry Potter would hate her, would see her as an enemy. And his daughter would fight back when attacked, and would not interfere when Voldemort finally put an end to the Boy-Who-Lived.
Yes, he had a good plan.