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It was a bright summer day in June. Surely, I thought as I wandered the Malfoy grounds, there had to be other people who actually enjoyed light and warmth. Narcissa had shown the most horrified expression when I asked her to come with me for a walk. Merlin beware she should get a sunburn.
Who else was I to ask?
Thinking about it, I did enjoy my solitude. I liked myself better when I was alone. Other people made it so hard not to care... and I did not want to care. About none of them.
I did not want to care about Tom's mad and evil plans. I did not want to care if he cared for Bellatrix.

Most of the time, I didn't.

He played on it, I was sure. Though he had always complained about any sign of morality, he was not happy now, either. He thought me to be wrong. And if things were wrong, Tom set out to fix them. Or rather bend them to his liking.
I had no intention to let myself be bent, though.

I could almost physically feel the change of mood that had occurred in my absence. When I had left the Manor this morning, everyone had been as glum as always. For weeks now, we were at a stalemate; no one could get the prophecy but Tom, who did not want to go to the Ministry himself.
Now, though, the mood had lightened considerably. Antonin Dolohov, who had arrived this morning looking rather sour, flashed me his brightest grin as I ran into him in a corridor.

"My, aren't you cheerful?"

"I am," he said.

"Are you going to tell me why?" I said, growing slightly impatient.

"The Dark Lord said not to tell you." He waggled his eyebrows. "Wants to make it a surprise."

I almost growled at him. "Get out of my way, Antonin."

He whistled as he left and I stepped into the parlour. There was still a small group of Death Eaters, chatting excitedly to each other. Obviously, a meeting had taken place whose members were now scattering slowly.

Tom was standing at a fireplace in the far corner, Nagini, his snake, lazily rolled up at his feet. I hated that animal. She seemed to be around all the time, observing, almost spying... And no doubt she told all of that to Tom, who was the only one to understand her after all. I had to acknowledge though, that he really did seem to care for her, which was rather unusual for him. In fact, sometimes he appeared to be almost tender.

I joined him at the fire, careful not to step on the snake.

"Lorraine," he acknowledged. Even in his usually cold voice, I could detect a glimmer of cheerfulness.

"What's put you all into such a good mood?" I inquired.

Tom's lips curled into a smile. "We've got a plan."

I raised an expectant eyebrow, but he merely smiled. "Oh, no, never mind. Don't elaborate for my sake," I sneered.

"You see," he said slowly, still smirking. "All this time, we searched for a way for me to get into the Ministry or a way to let someone else pick the prophecy up."

I motioned for him to go on.

"But now, I realized there was another way. A better way."

"And what is that way, Tom? Get on with it," I said.

Tom bent down to pet Nagini. Looking up at me, he answered, "Just before Christmas, Nagini was in the Ministry, having a look around and I was with her in mind... we attacked a man. Potter knew and saved him..."

"Harry Potter knew what you were doing?"

Tom's face fell slightly. "There appears to be some form of telepathic connection. He can look into my mind. Worried, I took every step to block him. Only now have I realized the value of this connection."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't get it yet."

He straightened up again. "It's rather simple. I and Potter are the only persons who can touch the prophecy. If I can't get it, then he has to."

"Why would he do that?" I said. "And how would you get it from him?"

"We'd need a way to lure him to the Ministry – say, one of his friends is kidnapped – and get him to pick it up. My Death Eaters will be waiting for him and will take the prophecy."

"Kidnap one of his friends?" I repeated.

Tom waved one long-fingered hand dismissively. "Not really, of course. He just needs to believe it. I can plant that in his mind."

"And who?" I challenged. "Most of his friends will be in school, remember? He can check that at once. And thanks to you, he doesn't have any family you can use, either."

"Ah," he made. "But he has. Sort of. Lucius was so gracious to tell me that he spotted Sirius Black seeing the boy off at the beginning of the school year. I'm more than ready to assume that the boy would come to his godfather's rescue."

I let it all sink in for a few moments, then I concluded, "I guess that could work."

The Death Eaters were all wearing very stern, concentrated expressions. Lucius Malfoy was adjusting his mask. Bellatrix was checking her appearance in the mirror and even she seemed less confident than usual.

Tom was sitting in an armchair, watching the scene and swirling his wand lazily between his fingers. He didn't show it, but I was sure that he was on edge.

Tom was keeping track of the Potter boy's thoughts. At least that is what he told me. It seemed so surreal to me that he would be able to track the boys' thoughts across the whole country. It was the plan that Tom would keep an eye on things via this connection the whole time. Maybe it was for that reason that his minions seemed so tense.

"My lord," Bellatrix spoke up cautiously. "We are ready. Where is the boy?"

"On his way to London. He will be there soon," Tom said. "You should get going."

"Yes, my lord," she said at once, nodding to her companions.

One by one, they left the room, heading off the grounds to disapparate. I pushed from the place where I had leant against the wall. Walking to the window I watched as they marched down the front lawn.

"She's rather eager, Bella. She probably missed the fight."

"Is that understanding I hear?" he said sarcastically. "And for Bellatrix of all people."

"She's been locked up as well," I said defensively. "Deserved it more than I did, of course, but she was still locked up. I can relate to that."

Instead of answering, Tom muttered, "The boy has arrived."

"Good," I said. "Everything's going as planned."

"Not exactly," Tom growled. "I had hoped he'd play the hero and come alone. But instead, he brought friends."

"They're just children," I said. "They don't stand a chance against Death Eaters."

"Well, the Potter boy tends to surprise me in the most unpleasant way. They're going in through the visitor's entrance."

"Good," I said again. "The others should be already in the Department of Mysteries."

"I should've sent Nagini with them," Tom mused. "I could have an eye on them."

"You know, you and that snake, it's just creepy."

We sat in silence, Tom informing me every now and then of the progress. Potter and his friends took a long time even getting to the Prophecy Hall. They only reached it when Tom was already pacing impatiently in the parlour. He grew positively excited when finally, the boy picked up the prophecy. It only lasted a few minutes, though, before his face fell.

"What's going on?"

"He's escaped."

"What?" I exclaimed, jumping up. "No!"

"They're after him, he's frantic," Tom concluded. He resumed his pacing, this time clearly filled with anger.

Ten minutes passed before Tom suddenly said, "They got him."

"Yes!"

"No, something's wrong."

My eyes widened as Tom growled, "The Order."

"How would they know?" I asked. "Has he contacted them before?"

"No, I don't think so, he didn't have the time." He stood very still, concentrating hard. "They're fighting," he informed me. He resumed his pacing, his knuckles growing even whiter as he gripped his wand tightly.

Suddenly, he froze.

"What?" I asked. "What's going on?"

"It's Bella, she's running – he's going after her."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not sure, I didn't catch it," he said, striding for the door.

"Where are you going?" I exclaimed, rushing after him.

"I'm joining them."

"No, we took every step so you wouldn't have to, you'll blow your cover-"

"You don't understand," he snapped angrily. "He's separating from the others. This is my chance."

The front door flew open as he hurried outside and I followed. "If you go, I'll go to."

"No!" he ordered. "You'll stay right where you are."

"You're going to kill him, I want to see."

"Lorraine," he pressed out. "I don't have time for your petty little revenge fantasies. You are staying."

We had reached the edge of the property. Tom stepped outside, ready to turn and disapparate. Last second, I grabbed his arm before we were zipped away.

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