Chapter 2: The Foe-Glass

Previously: Voldemort follows the trace of Gregorovitch and the Elder Wand in remote lands when he stumbles on a snake delivering him a message in the form of a riddle.

It was almost dawn when Voldemort passed through the high black gates of the Malfoy's Manor. He briskly paced across the garden and entered through the back door so as not to be seen.

Lately, its inhabitants had become quite boring. Lucius was too fearful to utter one clever thought whenever he was in the room. Bellatrix was needy and was always trying to be sent to the frontline of operations, oblivious to the fact that she most certainly could not infiltrate any network – as his most faithful supporter, her face and allegiance were widely known. Her sister Narcissa was the typical housewife, who, in the absence of control over her house and son, was useless. And the sight of Wormtail was so despicable that he had to place him where he would not need to see his face: in the cellar guarding the prisoners. No, Voldemort needed to be alone to think properly. Any interruption from these needy and ungrateful servants would send him off tracks.

Once he reached his room, Nagini slid away to her nest, leaving him to his thoughts. His room was the biggest of the manor. Previously the Malfoy's dining room, Voldemort had turned it into his private lair. The walls, previously covered with portraits of the Malfoy family, were hidden behind high shelves filled with books, rare potion ingredients, and parchments. The numerous chairs had disappeared too, and only the wide dining table and the fireplace remained untouched. Voldemort seldomly spent time in it. However, none but Nagini had been allowed in since he took over the place.

'At the twelfth strike your heritage shall pass.'

Voldemort had played the snake's message many times over in his head. The meaning, though coded, was crystal clear except for that part. Surely, no one would be stupid enough to challenge Lord Voldemort to a dual. The words themselves did not reflect the traditional rules of Wizard's duals. It was something else. A sort of blackmail. Or a favour some foolish wizard was trying to ask.

Foe or friend, Voldemort concluded that this person was a threat, for he or she knew too much. The real question was: who could know so much about what happened in the Gaunt's hovel? The only wizard who could have gained this knowledge was too stupid to pull this off.

Voldemort paced up and down a few more times. The more he thought about it, the less absurd it sounded. Wormtail had been around when he was at his weakest. At that time, his survival had mattered more than taking precautions. Wormtail had been in the Riddle's castle when they were planning his return. He was the one that recited the ritual and used his father's bones. He had a name, a place, and enough time wandering around the village on his own to learn the missing pieces – Voldemort had then entrusted him to get valuable ingredients to prepare the potion that kept him alive. He could have learnt what happened in the castle from a local tavern wench or another tattler of its like. He could have even discovered the hovel itself. As for where to find him the previous night, wasn't he the one guarding the exact person who gave him information about where to look for Gregorovitch? He could as well have extracted it himself or overheard it.

All seemed to fall into place, except for one piece: Wormtail did not have the nerve to do it. He was by far the greatest coward Voldemort had ever met. Furthermore, he did not have a motive. Yaxley had once advised Voldemort to kill Wormtail. He believed he was indebted to Harry Potter and that one day he would betray him. At first, he had swept the idea with a cold but frantic laugh. Wormtail was too scared and above all devoid of noble moral values to ever repay Harry Potter's kindness. Yet, it was the only lead Voldemort had, and it was worth exploring.

With a swift arm gesture, he summoned a large and leathery black book from the room's wall-high library. Secrets of the Darkest Arts flew out of its shelf and stopped right in front of him. He opened and flicked through the first few pages. The book was floating in the air as if held by invisible strings. He stopped when he finally found the page he was looking for:

Sus Fidelitas

Sus Fidelitas is a divulging hex that enables to bind one wizard's life to another with an unwanted oath of fealty. If a wizard or witch intends to betray, plot or purposefully fail the spell-maker, he or she will instantly die before the act of treason is completed. Sus Fidelitas is a powerful weapon to assess one's allegiance and prevent someone from making alliances with the enemy.

Requirements

The wand of the witch or wizard.

A gift from the spell-maker to the witch or wizard.

Spell

To perform the spell, the wizard must use the wand of the witch or wizard without her or his knowledge and repeat the incantation six times – one for each enemy – to bind the contract on the gift. Once performed, the spell remains for as long as the witch or wizard lives. Each new Sus Fidelitas diminishes the power of the previous one.

The right side of the page contained complicated arithmetic figures with six branches and an incantation on top. Voldemort closed the book. He had all he needed to have at hand. In a swift turn, he walked towards the exit, heading downstairs.

Unsurprisingly, his arrival at the manor did not go unnoticed. First, Bellatrix spotted him up the stairs. She quickly changed course and headed towards the staircase to welcome him with her head bowed:

'My lord' she said reverently. Even though he could not – and cared not – look at her face, he could guess the tears of joy coming up as she was speaking.

'Any news Bellatrix?'

'Yaxley should be back from the Ministry anytime soon. The snatchers still have not caught the boy, my lord.'

He stopped momentarily in front of her. He quite liked how Bellatrix was refusing to call Harry Potter by his name. Had he not known better; he could have thought she was afraid to speak his name. But as it turned out, it was merely out of spite. 'The boy' could not be threatening to anyone. He was not 'the boy who lived', nor 'the chosen one'. He was simply an ordinary boy, nothing about him was exceptional.

'And your task Bellatrix?'

'The recruits are ready…' She hesitated then continued 'If you would send me in their stead, it would be much quicker…'.

'They will infiltrate our enemy lines, not you Bellatrix' he cut her off. 'I believe you have taken it to heart to disobey me?'

Bellatrix shrunk on herself and her eyes grew bigger and glossier as tears – this time of shame – were coming up:

'Have I not proven that I am loyal and worthy, my lord?'

'You have' Voldemort replied in a softer tone. 'That's why you are in charge of the most important task while I am gone. Who else but you can understand the worth of training young recruits into battle?'

Bellatrix was still looking up at him with a sulky look on her face. His argument did not seem to have convinced her:

'I need my most powerful allies with me when the time comes. You would be of no use if you were to be captured before that.'

'Yes, my lord.'

She was making her way out of Voldemort's path when he called her out.

'And Bella, remind our dear snatchers that their privileges can be lifted as quickly as they were granted if they don't bring me something of use soon.' Her cheeks heated up to a rosy tone and she left Voldemort with a delighted smile on her face.

Voldemort made his way through the reception room which was unusually empty. The row of vacant chairs and the long empty table made it look even more intimidating. Voldemort had requisitioned it for meetings and weekly hearings. He had wanted a room as dark and austere as possible, so as not to have his guests marvel at opulent golden chandeliers or a rare cherry wood Wanto - a traditional two-sided Japanese wand – owned by the Malfoy's.

'My Lord' said a too familiar voice behind him.

'Lucius. I thought your manners taught you better than to spy on your master.' Voldemort replied in a cold tone.

'To spy? My lord…'

Voldemort turned to face him, his exasperation threatening to unleash a blow of rage at any moment.

'Look at you, Lucius. What a disgrace you have become. Fear and disgust. Is it what our cause inspires you now?'

Lucius Malfoy blanched:

'Of course not, my lord.' After a short pause, he added: 'Yaxley is to come soon for his weekly report…'

'I know.' Voldemort cut him off. 'I always know, Lucius.'

'Well, in that case …'

'As a matter of fact, you might be of use today.' he hissed.

Malfoy's lips contracted into a contorted line, unsure about what to expect. 'I know you are hiding some of your most valuable pieces, Lucius. Even from me. Nevertheless, I would need to have a look at it; the whole of it. I am looking for a specific object and you might possess it. Bring me all your collection before sunset.'

'My lord, if you would enlighten me a little as to what…'

'Just bring it to me. And don't make me ask a third time, Lucius.'

Despite the dim light, Voldemort could see sweat pearling on Malfoy's forehead. He knew he would have a hard time to gather everything before the end of the day. At least, thought Voldemort, that one will be too busy to bother me today.

He finally reached the black gate that led to the cellar. The gate unlocked itself as Voldemort approached. He slid down the dark stairs quietly. Only the brush of his black robe against the floor could be heard. The cellar was as dark as an Azkaban cell and only the heavy breathing of its few prisoners could be heard.

He could not spot Wormtail. He must have turned himself into his animal form – a concealing trick that rat was quite fond of.

'Wormtail!' He called.

He heard a gasp of terror from one of the prisoners.

'My lord' Wormtail replied hurriedly.

'I have come across something quite… intriguing last night.' He started.

Wormtail was listening intently, the pressure in his shoulders releasing as he was straightening up to better hear his master.

'Someone, or rather something, was waiting for me in Gregorovitch's old house.' He paused, enjoying the effect of his every word on Pettigrew and the prisoners. They were silent and motionless, petrified at the idea that his next words could lead to their deaths.

'Naturally, my first inclination is to believe that someone – someone very close to me – has been informing someone else of where I was heading. Do you have any idea of who has the knowledge, experience and the connections to be playing double-agent against me, Wormtail?'

The bald and plump man started to bite his nails nervously.

'My Lord… You can't believe I would do such a thing? Have I ever betrayed you? Or ran to help those who sought to destroy you? I was in hiding, but never did I join the other side.'

'Yet your support is motivated by mere fear. I wouldn't call it a proof of your loyalty.'

'My Lord, I am your most faithful servant. And you are the greatest and most powerful wizard. I could not betray you!'

'Legilimens'

Voldemort had pointed his wand towards Wormtail whose head dropped down, as if he had suddenly fallen asleep. Both men were standing still, except for the uncontrollable spasm that was shaking the Animagus at times. After five minutes, both men seemed to have regained control over their bodies. Pettigrew's legs gave up and he fell to his knees, weakened by his master's mental investigation.

'Very well Wormtail' he said mysteriously.

His servant was still on the floor. As he glanced up, he could see the Dark Lord creating a circle around them with his wand.

'Master…' he attempted.

'IMPERIO'

For the second time, Voldemort hit him with a spell. The man faltered then steadied. His eyes looked strangely empty.

Voldemort came closer to him.

'Give me your wand'

Wormtail handed him his wand absent-mindedly.

'The wand, unwantedly given by the suspected part' He manoeuvred the wand.

'Give me your magical hand'

Wormtail lifted his arm, presenting to him a polished silver hand.

'A gift given…' Voldemort continued 'And the incantation to bind your fate to your loyalty to me'.

The light went brighter. There were whispers and chantings echoing on the walls of the basement. The other prisoners looked at each other, trying to determine whether they would suffer the same fate.

When the light faded out, he turned to his silent audience, wand in the air.

'Obliviate' he said.

He took the memories of all the prisoners at once and made himself invisible to their eyes; he would not raise suspicions as to why they could not remember how Lord Voldemort ended up in the basement with them. Even Pettigrew would not remember his interaction with him.

Once back upstairs, he saw Yaxley marching towards the reception room, swiftly followed by Narcissa Malfoy. Yaxley seemed surprised to see Voldemort in the room – he would usually arrive last. However, he quickly recovered himself and greeted Voldemort with a confident smile:

'My Lord, how pleased I am to see you.'

Yaxley was a tall and robust-looking man. His impeccable looks and steady posture gave him an air of authority, but his friendly manners and self-control had an entrusting effect on his audience. There was a time when Voldemort had equally considered Yaxley and Malfoy to infiltrate the ministry. However, a closer look at both men and their differences popped out quite easily. Lucius was a power-hungry patriarch who only counted on the power of money and established blood lines to obtain what he wanted. He believed in the old power and had but only little appreciation for change. In that sense, his pursuit of power was only in what he owned and what select club he was part of. Yaxley was a different breed. Similar in demeanour and blood line, his approach to power was remarkably different. Where Lucius used threats and bribery, Yaxley used protocols and persuasion. His commitment was prompted by ideology and his alliances by strategy. Voldemort needed both in his ranks: when objects and acquisitions were needed, he turned to Lucius, when information and negotiations were needed, he turned to Yaxley. Who else then could be a better fit to rally the Ministry to his cause than Yaxley? The choice was easily made.

'Yaxley, I have been longing to hear your report this week. We seem to have persistent issues that could benefit from the wise counsel of a politician.'

As Voldemort showed Yaxley to his seat, other witches and wizards arrived in the reception room. After politely greeting Voldemort, they silently sat down around the long wooden table, waiting for their weekly meeting to start.

'Welcome friends' started Voldemort. 'I am truly happy to see you could all join us today. Our cause is progressing, and I need all of you to make magic mighty again. Yaxley' he pointed to Yaxley with both hands 'have made our cause heard and supported within the Ministry of Magic. It is a question of weeks before this decadent, Muggle-whoring institution returns to its righteous glory.'

There was an appreciative pause. Then Voldemort continued:

'Snape' this time he pointed to Serverus Snape 'is purging our education from the filth that has contaminated our schools, poisoned our children's head for so long, and left them defenceless and ignorant in the face of injustice.'

Voldemort paused for the second time. Everyone was listening intently, transfixed by his words.

'Bellatrix' her cadaveric cheeks took a rosy tone as he mentioned her name 'is preparing our soldiers to battle, teaching them the real might within them, pushing their potential for magic to the most elevated practice. Equipped with the knowledge longed denied by the Ministry, our troops will be prepared for victory.'

Voldemort left his stand at the end of the table and moved towards his audience, passing behind their chairs as they remained seated around the wooden table.

'Yes… There will be a battle. Our enemies are growing in number, seeking our downfall and preparing to fight us. You see, Mudbloods and half breeds will never side with wizards. They will always choose the side they know, they will always choose their blood. That's why we must eliminate them! From birth, they are bound to go against us. My ancestor Salazar Slytherin knew this. That's why he wanted to prevent Muggle-born from learning how to defeat us. And the following centuries proved how right his predictions were.'

There were some nodding of agreements in the audience. When the room grew quiet again, Voldemort resumed.

'But he was short-sighted. Contrary to him, we will not stop at schools, we will make it an international rule to not give them any privilege, to expose them to the world and prevent them from acquiring the tools with which they plot our destruction.'

Voldemort turned his snake-shaped face towards Yaxley to signal him to make his announcement. Yaxley then slowly stood up, giving everyone a reassuring look:

'Tomorrow, the Ministry will issue a public statement announcing 'The Magic Protection Act'. This new law will require every person who buys a wand to register themselves into the national registry. This national registry will help the Ministry keep track of wands whereabouts and ensure that none of them ends in the hands of those who are not wizards.'

There was a warm applause in the audience. Even Lucius Malfoy was smiling at the news.

'Any wizard who fails to register will lose its wizard privileges and face trial for possession of stolen magical artefacts.'

The applause grew in intensity. Excitement was spreading across the room.

'Very well, very well Yaxley' As Voldemort spoke, the room grew quiet again. 'This, of course, is a first measure. How do we identify those from pure-blood heritage who conspire against us?' He remained silent for a few seconds. They were all looking up to him, waiting for his answer. But it did not come. Voldemort was quite enjoying looking at them thinking hard to impress him.

'Nott, any idea?' He asked.

A plump blond man looked up at Voldemort. His smile disappeared instantly as his name was called. He looked like a schoolboy who had just been caught by a teacher in the middle of a particularly blissful self-indulging moment. Nott looked down at his hands, apparently concentrating hard to find the answer. When Voldemort considered it was enough humiliation, he moved on to ask the next person:

'Macnair?'

Macnair looked up and said proudly:

'We randomly inspect houses and initiate a plan to interrogate every wizard with Veritaserum.'

A few wizards nodded, most looked appalled. Voldemort himself did not particularly seemed impressed by the idea. Before he could say anything, Rookwood answered:

'Macnair, do you want to turn all wizards against us? Massive invasion of privacy is definitely going to bring us a few more enemies. All of us have thoughts and secrets we would like to keep to ourselves… We need to be strategic. The Taboo curse was effective at locating Potter's closest supporters. Why not replicate it but instead of placing it on a word, we place it on a gathering limit? If more than… let's say 15 people get together, we get alerted and we stop whatever is happening before it happened. No one gets organised.'

'Too sloppy!' hissed Snape. 'There would not be a minute without a false alarm raising and wasting our time. And that is without counting on our enemy's agility to learn from their errors and use it to set a trap… Just like the Taboo curse indeed!'

'Severus is right', said Voldemort, 'we need to act in the shadow if we want to be efficient. And, we have learnt by now that our most vicious enemies do not rally under the same roof. Harry Potter, is very likely to be with his only two friends, plotting against me. The Order of the Phoenix is also limiting gathering to no more than 10 members.' Voldemort suddenly thought of the cloaked figure by the lake. 'We need to identify those who work secluded from others. Not the ones that are stupid enough to organise rallying parties.'

The air in the room got denser. He had to admit, even him was running out of ideas.

'The foe-glass' said Snape.

The room was silent. Macnair looked perplexed, as if Snape had spoken an unknown language. Seeing the absence of response from his fellow Death-Eaters, Snape elaborated:

'Former property of Auror Alastair Moody, the foe-glass is a magical mirror that shows approaching enemies to the beholder… even undercover ones. The night you were reborn' he turned to Voldemort 'Moody's Foe glass was accidentally broken. It has been hidden in the castle in a location known by only a few. I happen to be one of the few.'

'But you just said it's broken' said Rookwood.

'The mirror was enchanted by a wizard, not a goblin. It can be fixed.'

Voldemort's smile outstretched. Since his last failure with the Mirror of Erised 6 years ago, he had ensured that his lack of knowledge about magical mirrors would not trouble him anymore. As it turned out, he was right. Mirrors, he had learned, could reveal and keep numerous secrets to the one who possessed them.

'Lucius' he started 'I have changed my plans for you today. You will accompany Serverus back to Hogwarts and retrieve the foe-glass for me. As board member of the school, your visit should not arouse suspicions.'

The meeting went on for another fifteen minutes during which Voldemort paid little attention to the rest of the announcements. Snape had found the perfect solution to uncover the identity of the mysterious hooded figure. And he was quite keen to see what this foe-glass would show him.

Once all the Death-Eaters had left, he returned to his room, quite eager to find out how to repair the foe-glass. After all, the glass was invented because of him. It was quite ironic that now, it would serve what it was supposed to guard Moody from.