Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"
"mental dialogue"
"parsel"
"mental parsel"

Tom had certainly not been expecting this. He sat back in his seat and stared at the impressive amount of books and notes before him. How had Potter managed this? There was information and books here that should not have been accessible to hardly anybody much less a ragtag group on the run. Rare books, ministry reports, even case studies from the Department of Mysteries were included in the reference materials. Either Potter had some truly impressive contacts or he was far more cunning than he got credit for.

Regardless of how they were procured, the research painted a fairly grim view of the future of Wizarding Britain should change not be implemented. If Potter was correct and the evidence was building that he was, then without the muggleborns Wizarding Britain would no longer have a sustainable population. There simply were not enough old families left after the past two wars to maintain numbers and avoid excessive inbreeding. Potter's projections showed that there was a strong correlation between inbreeding in pure blood lines and the number of squibs born. Their society would practically die out within a handful of generations.

Add on the likelihood that muggleborns were descendants of exiled squibs, then it was more than probable that there were heirs to old, dead houses running around without an inkling to their heritage. If they could teach them wizarding history and customs and have them claim their lordships, they could inject much needed new blood into their society. The Wizengamot numbers had been dwindling as the houses died out and most of the current members were stubborn old men too set in their ways. They wouldn't understand the benefits of change even as they watched their society crumble around them.

Interestingly enough, this probably also explained why the first metamorphmagus born to the Black line in recent memory was a half blood. Also why himself, Potter, and Dumbledore were noticeably more powerful than their peers. The injection of new blood into old lines revitalized the magic. His mother's family had been so inbred they could barely function. He was probably lucky that Merope hadn't ended up siring offspring with her brother. Not that he was grateful to his father. Not being a sibling/cousin to his mother was hardly a difficult standard to meet.

It was now even more imperative that he reaffirmed the support of Lucius and Severus. If he was going to sway the pure bloods he would need the support of Lucius first. The other man was too much of a pure blood figurehead, a canny one at that, to try to push without his full support. Severus would be needed for heritage tests and if they did follow through on Potter's ridiculous scheme Severus would be invaluable. It looked like he could not delay those particular meetings any longer.

Tom rose from his seat intent on a light dinner and sleep. Nagini stirred at the movement, "It has been awhile master. I was growing concerned that you had forgotten me."

Tom stroked her head as he traversed the hallway, "I apologize Nagini. Things have been hectic. I hope your time spent with the boy was not too traumatic for you."

Nagini let out a content hiss, "He scratched in just the right way and gave me many juicy rats." She thought a moment, "He liked to watch me eat though. I did not mind, but I thought most people disliked such things."

Tom paused mid step to look her, "He enjoyed watching you swallow rats whole?"

"Yes, he would cut off one of the rats' toes before giving it to me and then watched as I ate it. He looked a bit like you do when you are having fun punishing your followers. When I asked, he said that I looked especially fierce and majestic. I like him Master. You should have him over more so that he can praise me."

Tom resumed his walk. Well that explained it. Who knew that Potter had such a vindictive streak though. Tom idly wondered what Potter would do if he got his hands on the actual Wormtail. It might be worth finding out even if it meant Tom had to find a new outlet for his frustrations. Leaving Wormtail to the golden boy's whims would be a fitting punishment for the rat for losing Nagini and also failing to report it.

Unfortunately, any confrontation between Potter and Wormtail would have to wait. Tomorrow he had a potions master to interrogate. He had no doubt that the conversation would prove enlightening.

Severus had been having a pleasant day. It was the Easter Holidays and he was working on one of his own personal brews. Nobody was around to disturb him. No McGonagall asking about something or other for the school. No order members giving him suspicious stares and potions demands. For once he was almost enjoying himself. That was why he was not at all surprised when his mark burned and brought an abrupt halt to his small moment of peace.

In fluid motions, Severus put his potion in stasis, donned his death eater robes and swiftly left the school. As he strode across the castle grounds on his way to the gate, Severus sent a quick patronus to alert the Headmistress of his absence. He reached the gates and with a precise turn and a quiet crack he was gone.

He arrived in the familiar entrance of the Dark Lord's manor. Sparing only a brief glance to assess his surroundings, he followed the pull of his mark through the halls in the direction of the Dark Lord's study. Upon arrival, he knocked on the door and was promptly granted entrance.

The only outward sign Severus showed of his considerable shock upon seeing the Dark Lord's new visage was the slightest faltering in his step. Inwardly he was already rapidly cataloging the changes and trying to determine possible reasons and methods for this change to have occurred. He gave a bow and waited for the other to address him.

"Hello Severus," The Dark Lord indicated the chairs across from him with a slight movement of his hand, "take a seat. I am sure you are curious as to the reason I have called you here."

That would be one way to put it. He had his current list of potions to brew and they would not be ready for another week. Severus could not think of any other need the Dark Lord would have for him. He mentally started reviewing his occlumency shields. Unexpected calls rarely bode well for him. "Yes, my Lord. Your requested potions are not yet complete and I have had no contact with the Order since the holidays began."

Severus found himself fixed by assessing red eyes, "Indeed, I have not called you here today for either of those reasons. Instead I have a third matter to discuss with you."

"If I might ask, what matter would that be my Lord?" Severus was beginning to feel a sense of foreboding.

"Harry Potter."

The foreboding feeling doubled. What had that brat gone and done this time? "Harry Potter my Lord? He has not been heard of or seen in almost three years."

Those unwavering red eyes continued to bore holes through his skull. The other man laced his fingers in front of him and leaned forward, "I have recently found reason to believe that Potter is not as gone or as inactive as he was thought to be. In fact, I believe he has been very busy trying to find a method to kill me. Tell me Severus, what do you know of Potter's actions these past years?"

If Severus lived through this he was going to strangle that idiot boy. He had had little contact with the boy and his two friends since they went on the run and none at all in the last half a year or so. Regardless, he had a fairly good idea on what the dunderheads had been up to and had provided them materials and potions on the occasions he could safely manage it. That the Dark Lord was asking about Potter now was not a good sign. He obviously knew something, but how much Severus was unsure. He would have to tread carefully.

"I have heard very little regarding the brat. I have reason to believe that he had at one point been in contact with the wolf and the female auror before they were both killed nearly a year ago. If he has been in contact with any other members I do not know. I am fairly certain that if Moody had the faintest idea where Potter was he would not stop until the boy was brought back. Not that I would be informed if he had been found and captured." That last part was true enough. If anything Moody had become even more paranoid since Dumbledore's death and Potter's disappearance. The retired auror had never trusted Severus and since taking over the Order had tried to push him out as much as possible while still keeping a close watch over him. Not that this stopped Severus from finding out the goings on of the Order, but it was a source of constant annoyance.

"Ah yes, the old man's death. I can imagine that having only your account of events to rely on does not sit well the that paranoid fool."

Severus did not know where this was leading. Had the Dark Lord somehow found out that Potter had been witness to Dumbledore's death? Potter had never told the Order who had killed Dumbledore and the boy had gone so far as to deny his own presence at the event. He had caught up to Severus that night, hidden under that cursed invisibility cloak, and told him not to relinquish his position as a spy. Then the arrogant brat had run off somewhere without another word. He had fully expected the boy to go crying to the world about his betrayal to the light, but instead he had kept quiet. It was infuriating that he had yet to get a satisfying answer out of the insufferable brat regarding his silence. There had been little opportunity to wring the information out of him as direct contact was unacceptably reckless.

"It does not my Lord. Moody is convinced that I am withholding information regarding Dumbledore's death. Most of the Order were mistrustful of me before and are even more so now. I am afraid there is nothing I can do to improve the situation."

Severus continued to watch the other sitting across from him. It was growing increasingly apparent that the changes were not merely superficial. The Dark Lord had yet to even give indication that he might curse him whereas previously he would have declared Severus' inability to gain the order's trust as a gross failure. This calm demeanor was unsettling. A rational Dark Lord was potentially a much more dangerous threat than he had been previous. Not even Potter's infernal luck would likely be able to save him from the man across the table.

Tom matched stares with the unflappable potions master. This game needed to end. Severus was far to carful to let anything slip and he needed full answers to his questions. Dancing around each other would quickly lead nowhere and more persuasive methods would likely prove just as ineffective. The man was far too good at being a spy. Perhaps he could borrow a method from Potter to get the professor to relent.

"Severus, frankly I am suspicious of you and your true allegiances. I believe that you have not truly allied yourself with the dark for a very long time now. Possibly since the death of Lily Potter. No doubt you are well aware that the chances of you exiting out of this room intact are low. However, before I dispose of you I propose a small trade. You can consider it my recognition of your skills and services up to this point. A truth for a truth. We each ask one question and we each give one full answer."

To give him proper credit, Severus did not so much as blink at the statement. He supposed the man had prepared for such an eventuality. As pessimistic as the potions master was, he probably found it surprising that he had survived this long.

With the same efficient calm as always, Severus replied, "Very well. I suppose you intend to enforce the truth?"

"Of course. We will use oaths. I am afraid I cannot rely on potions due to your considerable skill in the subject." They each made their oath and Tom continued, "I will be asking the first question as I do not trust you to not try and trigger the oath's conditions to avoid answering."

"Why did you kill Dumbledore?" There were better questions he could ask, but this had been bothering him since he came to the conclusion of Severus' treachery. Besides it was not his question that was important here. It was Severus receiving an answer he knew to be true upon which the direction of this whole meeting hinged. He might as well indulge his curiosity in the meantime.

Severus looked steadfastly back at Tom as he curtly responded, "There were a myriad of reasons. Simply put, I did not want Draco to become a murderer. It is obvious that he does not have the required disposition and the act would likely have broken the boy. Additionally, Dumbledore was already dying. He was suffering from a curse of your making that would have soon seen him to a painful demise. Lastly, I killed him because he requested it of me. He desired to die on his own terms. Dying to protect an innocent child while also solidifying my position in your ranks was his decision."

Tom pondered this new information. It was not all that surprising when he thought it over. The bit about it being his curse was interesting though. He had not personally placed a curse on the old man so it must have been something he had set up in the past. If the old coot was onto his horcruxes then it was- ah. It was the ring. When Potter had brought the ring he had noted that it had been destroyed, but not given any thought to the method. Dumbledore must have been caught by the shriveling curse and managed to delay the effects. While he admitted that was an impressive feat in itself, it did not change the fact that the old man was finally gone.

"Very well. I believe it is now your turn Severus. I advise you to choose carefully."

Severus did not wait long, "What did you do to regain this appearance and your sanity?"

Ah reliable Severus. Dumbledore apparently was not the only one who wanted to end things on his own terms. Severus, ever the spy, was trying to gain one last piece of information to send back to his ungrateful allies. Tom couldn't help the smug satisfaction that arose at the predictability of the situation.

"I used a ritual to piece my soul back together with the full, willing cooperation of Harry Potter."

Harry was abruptly jerked from his reading by a loud bang. His first reaction was that somehow the Fidelius had failed and the order had found him. He then realized he hadn't felt the charm drop. He hurried from the room in the direction of the entranceway and the now screaming portrait of Sirius' mother. There were only a small number of people with access to the house and he could think of none that would be here. Except one. Harry paled as he rounded the last corner and confirmed just who was standing before him.

In hindsight he probably should have warned Snape about his recent contact with the Dark Lord. He hadn't seen the man this obviously irate since the lesson both he and Neville had exploded their cauldrons near simultaneously and the resulting sludge coated the entire front of the room. Along with Snape's desk. Also Snape himself. The professor had been decidedly less than pleased.

The potions master whorled around to face him, sneer already in place. "Potter!" He grabbed Harry and unceremoniously dragged him out of earshot of the still wailing portrait and down to the kitchen. When they arrived, the man turned and fixed his glare back on Harry. His voice dropped low, full of menace, "Of all the idiotic, arrogant, reckless actions you have pulled over the years, you have somehow managed to top them all this time. Contacting the Dark Lord and performing a ritual to make him stronger is imbecilic beyond what even I thought you capable of. I would ask what you were thinking, but since you obviously were not I will not bother. Instead, you will tell me what could possibly make you think this would be a good idea. If you do not, I assure you that you will not enjoy the consequences."

At that silence fell. Harry shifted nervously, feeling very much like he was a student again faced with the full force of Snape's ire. Perhaps he could make a run for it. Then again Snape's expression was promising to chop him into potions ingredients if he didn't comply. He rubbed the back of his head and shifted his weight for easier fleeing. Just in case. He did not doubt that the professor was angry now and his answer would only worsen matters.

"Well, I had the finished proposal and I was sort of at a loss of how to go about enacting it. I realized that Scrimgeour would never go for it even if I was able to talk to him without him trying to apprehend me the moment he saw me. The rest of the ministry and the Wizengamot are essentially useless when it comes to implementing change or doing anything at all really. There was nothing I could personally do unless I pulled a miracle and somehow both killed Voldemort and survived. Which seemed pretty unlikely." He paused to assess Snape's reaction. He would have been better off studying a statue. The statue would probably have had more expression on its face. Harry idly wondered if Snape's eyes had always been black or if the man had changed them somehow just to make himself more unreadable and intimidating. It did not seem an unreasonable assumption. After all, he was positive that cloak was charmed to billow.

Resigning himself for the inevitable fallout, he continued, "Then I started to think about who would be capable of changing things. When I first thought of Tom Riddle it was just jokingly. The idea stuck around though. It kept popping up every time I ran into another dead end. No matter what I did, I couldn't quite let it go. Eventually I found myself seriously considering the idea. By that point I had already come across the method to return the soul fragments and I realized that it might actually be possible to bring back Tom Riddle." He shrugged helplessly, "One thing led to another and here we are."

Snape did not know where to start. He debated killing the brat to save the world from the chaos that was Harry Potter. He was now certain that the boy would be the end of them all. What was most infuriating was that the imbecile got away with it time and time again. Potter should be dead many times over. His reckless heroics should have exploded in his face like so many of his cauldrons in class. His contacting the Dark Lord should have resulted in nothing less than his capture and demise. Yet here they both stood, alive and unharmed and there was a rational Dark Lord on the loose who was apparently intent on some form of cooperation with the boy. If Severus were a lesser man he would have found an isolated corner in which to wallow in self pity.

Instead he pinned Potter with his most scathing glare, "Your recklessness truly knows no bounds does it? You risked everything with this little scheme of yours. Once again failing to recognize the consequences of your actions and their impact on others. What would you have done if you had failed and been captured? What would become of your little friends then? They would not have been allowed to simply walk away unscathed. You nearly handed over the wizarding world to a madman and you have the audacity to stand there and shrug it off like it is nothing!"

"Enough."

It was said quietly, but there was a weary weight to the word that was enough to catch Severus' attention. He paused in his berating of the boy and looked at Potter. For the first time since his arrival he truly took in Potter's appearance. Severus was suddenly struck with the realization that Potter no longer appeared as almost a perfect copy of his father. Despite still being a year or so younger than his father had been at the time of his death, the son looked the older of the two. Not too mention James had never been that unhealthily pale and skinny. It was the eyes though that really stemmed his tirade. They were still the same vibrant green of Lily's, but there was something else. They looked tired in a way Lily's never had. Lily's eyes were never meant to look like that. Confronted with those eyes, Snape felt his remaining strength drain away from him leaving him feeling empty. He felt too old and too worn.

Unexpectedly, Potter did not get angry. He did not start yelling and whining about how Snape was wrong and Potter knew what he was doing. He did not even look especially upset. This calm Potter was almost as off putting as a rational Dark Lord had been. The silence between them stretched.

Potter eventually let out a small sigh and gestured towards the kitchen table. Then without any other acknowledgement, he turned to the stove and went about preparing tea.

Normally, Severus would be furious that Potter would presume to order him around, but the events of the day were starting to wear on him and he found he was too exhausted to bother. He was getting too old for this war, never mind that he was only forty. Severus accepted the tea that Potter handed him and they both sat at the table in silence while they drank.

After a time, Severus broke the silence, "Potter where are your friends? I had expected them to come running to defend you against every accusation I could throw at you no matter how deserved they might be."

The boy took another sip of his tea, "They aren't here. I'm the only one staying at Grimmauld right now." He put his cup down, "Besides you aren't wrong with your accusations. I'm well aware that what I did goes beyond reckless."

Snape sneered, "Yet that apparently did not stop you from proceeding."

Potter met his gaze, "It didn't. Tell me Professor, if Voldemort were to win the war tomorrow what would happen? How much would truly change from where we are now? Most of the muggleborns have already fled the country or at least hidden themselves away in the muggle world. The pure bloods have long since held most of the positions of power in our society. The government has been corrupt since well before this war began. It was only Professor Dumbledore's positions and leadership that stemmed the worst of it for so long. British wizarding society is already poised to collapse in on itself. Voldemort would have just sped up the process."

The boy took another sip of tea. "By the time he had taken Britain and set his sights elsewhere it is likely that other countries would have finally rallied against him. There wouldn't be enough people left in Britain to put up much of a fight after all."

Severus did not let it show on his face, but he was stunned. This was not the Potter he knew. Potter was supposed to be full of self righteous fury and stubborn arrogance. This cold calculated approach did not fit with everything he knew of the boy. The boy he knew would never have considered losing and potentially letting innocents suffer or die just to hasten the inevitable. He would have fought tooth and nail to the bitter end to save even people he disliked.

"Potter you would really allow innocents to be harmed?"

Potter gave a wry smile, "Are there really innocents left professor? Those that have stayed behind seem to fall one of two ways. Many still expect me, a teenager, to swoop in and save them while they cower at home doing nothing to help themselves. They toss accusations at the ministry and myself that enough isn't being done and deem that sufficient action. The rest don't seem all that upset about the changes Voldemort promises them."

Potter got up to make more hot water, but he continued without pause, "On the other hand let's say Voldemort was defeated tomorrow. He falls at the culmination of some big battle and Scrimgeour is still the current minister. Or if not Scrimgeour another person like him. We'll be fanciful and even say Voldemort died by my hand. I've been absent a long time now, but I am still technically very young and my publicly recognized mentor has been dead for years. How long do you think it would take Scrimgeour to try and capitalize on a situation like that? Even better for him if I died in the process. He could potentially do almost as much damage as Voldemort might have. The backlash against anything and everything possibly labeled dark would be eagerly championed by him and the public would happily follow. Dark creatures and families would fare little better than muggleborns might have under Voldemort's rule."

Those eyes, bearing shadows that Lily's never had, turned back onto him, "Where does that leave us professor? From my perspective it's a loss either way. Can you really blame me for trying to find a different option? No matter how far fetched? No matter how reckless?"

Snape didn't respond for a long while. Harry took another sip of his tea while he waited for the man to gather his thoughts. Tom must have really thrown his old professor for a loop earlier. The man was being nearly civil. Or he started being nearly civil once he had stopped yelling anyway.

Everything he had told the potions master was true. Harry had long since come to the conclusion that Wizarding Britain was effectively doomed if something drastic wasn't done. However, he wasn't being entirely forthright on his reasons for the particular choice he had made. He did think Tom Riddle stood the best chance at preventing their ruin, but he also had personal reasons that had driven him. Mostly they centered around the horcrux in his scar. Snape did not need to know that little tidbit however.

Finally the other man fixed his gaze on Harry, "What of the prophecy?"

There were not enough swear words in existence to properly express his feelings regarding that thrice damned piece of bad poetry that hack of a women spouted out all those years ago. Regardless, that was not what Snape was asking.

"I personally consider the prophecy fulfilled. Or at the very least nearly fulfilled. With as vague as the wording is, the prophecy could be interpreted in multiple ways. The most recent example being the restoration of Tom Riddle's soul. If we take it a step further and publicly kill off the Voldemort persona, you could possibly consider that my vanquishing of the Dark Lord. The whole lived versus survived thing could also be read as more a commentary on quality of life than actually being physically dead. Instead it could be looked at as if one of is merely surviving than we both are only surviving. I don't think either of us have spent the last few years doing much that could be called recreational after all. Professor McGonagall was right when she called divination a wooly subject."

Harry paused a moment uncertain if he should continue, "I think that the Headmaster had been fighting a losing war for too long and chose to interpret the prophecy in a way that gave him the most hope. He was a brilliant man, but he was old even then and he had a great many people looking to him for guidance. Then the prophecy came along when things looked the bleakest and he latched onto it. I'm not certain if he ever truly allowed himself to consider the alternatives or that he might be wrong."

Harry hoped that bringing up Professor Dumbledore didn't set the other man off again. Ron, Hermione and him had spent many restless nights going over that prophecy and picking it apart word by word. He realized he was also choosing the interpretation most convenient to him, but if they were ever going to move forward with their plans the prophecy needed to be behind them. Nothing would ever work out with that cloud of doom and gloom hovering over their heads. He was actually surprised that Tom had yet to to bring it up. He would have to ask the man about it the next time they talked.

Snape started to massage his temples, "Potter you are still a reckless fool with all the brains of a flobberworm. You rely too much on luck. Though some of your points might have," the potions master sneered, "a modicum of merit. I cannot condone such impulsive behavior. For all of our sakes I hope this plan of yours does not blow up on us spectacularly."

Here the man stood, "If I stay here any longer I am afraid that your stupidity might spread like a disease. I shall be taking my leave."

Harry followed the man to the fireplace and watched him light a flame with a quick flick of his wand. Before the professor threw in the floo power, he turned back to Harry. He looked as though he were struggling with himself for the briefest moment.

"Potter, why did you not tell anyone who killed Dumbledore? How did you know that I was a spy for the light?"

Harry watched his old professor for a moment. It was remarkable the change in the man when he wasn't busy looking at Harry as if he was some unsavory specimen to be used in a potions experiment. He looked old for his years and Harry begrudgingly acknowledged that the man had not had an easy life.

"I didn't know. Not until later anyway. However, Professor Dumbledore was always saying that he trusted you completely. If I am being completely honest though, it was mostly because I was scared. The Headmaster had just died and I realized that if you really had betrayed us than we didn't stand a chance. I might not be the brightest out there, but I did realize there was more going on than I had been told. So out of desperation, I took another one of my reckless gambles and chose to believe what the professor had been claiming all along."

Snape didn't react to the words. He just turned back to the fire, threw in the powder and in a flare of green he was gone.