Thank you for the reviews on the Intermission!
The Interlude now.
Interlude: The Serpent Coils
December 12th, 1995
Dear Lord Voldemort:
I hope you will forgive the familiarity, but as my last letter to you began the same way, I thought I should stay consistent. I write now with confidence in your ability to decipher the charm I have used to disguise my handwriting, and your ability to understand what you will find when you do. No one has ever said that Lord Voldemort is an ignoramus.
I bring information that you may know already, along with the evidence of my own eyes. I was in the crowd at Harry Potter's press conference yesterday, and he never noticed me. Of course, he has the habit of overlooking me. Even if he had noticed I was there, it is likely he would not have paid the slightest bit of attention.
Potter, as you may know, declared that he would be fighting the wild Dark and the storm it will bring down on Midwinter night. I am well-aware that Lord Voldemort, of course, will know the motives of the wild Dark magic and how best to harness that power. Potter, however, was supremely confident. The tone of his voice, the shine in his eyes, the movement of his arms, and the phoenix that landed on his shoulder, all proclaimed that he knew how to handle this. I suspect that part of this was showmanship for the crowd, but not all of it can have been; Potter is not that good a liar. Thus comes my warning. Potter has reason to be confident.
I have, unfortunately, not been able to learn the details of his plan. He has told his Dark allies that his Light ones are handling it. So he will use Light magic—but that covers large areas of spells. I am sorry not to be able to offer you more information.
One interesting tidbit that your own spies might or might not have seen: Scrimgeour spoke with Potter after the press conference was done, and gave him a large packet of papers. I was not very near the stage, but I know some spells that ride the wind and turn it inside out, and I did overhear the names "Little Hangleton," "Tom Riddle," and "Morfin Gaunt." I hope that these will mean something to my Lord.
Please let me know, my lord, if I can be of more use to you, or if you have instructions for me. I understand I am not initiated, and that what you will find when the charm to disguise my handwriting dissipates may lessen your trust in me. But, I assure you, I am ready and willing to serve you. Potter will never give me what I want. You can, and if it suits your Lordship's pleasure, you will.
I wish you luck on Midwinter night, my lord.
The Serpent.