"Rise, Severus," Voldemort said from atop the obnoxiously flashy throne she'd set up in Lucius's drawing room. It was an excessively ostentatious show of power, but it drove Lucius crazy and Barty found it hilarious, so she kept it. "Tell me of Dumbledore's reaction to my resurrection."

Voldemort was intrigued by what this meeting would reveal. Severus was a spy, though, at this point, she was not sure whose spy he was. On the one hand, she had taken him in as her apprentice. She had taught him the marvels of dark arts and helped cultivate his intrinsic genius.

On the other hand, Severus had truly cared about Lily, whom she had murdered. It wasn't inconceivable that Severus would turn traitor if he thought it would keep her safe. Dumbledore had also testified on Severus's behalf in the Death Eater trials following her defeat, claiming that he had spied on her throughout the war, a fact that she knew to be untrue. Then there was the fact that he had interfered with her attempts to obtain the Philosopher's Stone three years ago, which was a severe setback to her plans. Lastly, there was the fact that Dumbledore gave the man an extreme amount of leeway with regards to his reprehensible behaviour towards students, which implied that Dumbledore saw Severus as indispensable in some way.

The odds were definitely against Severus still being loyal to her. Normally, she'd consider killing someone for turning traitor, but if he was a spy for the Order, then she could use him to spread misinformation among her opponents — far too valuable an opportunity to pass up.

"His reaction is exactly as I would have expected." Severus began. "He is working on gathering allies for the fight against you, though his rapidly waning political power is making that a difficult task. Potter has been shunted back to his relatives' house under the protection of the blood wards there. Unfortunately, its whereabouts have been consistently held from me, no doubt due to concerns about that information finding its way into your hands. Dumbledore has also reassembled the Order of the Phoenix, using some of the Old Guard plus some new members. That mutt, Sirius Black, has volunteered his ancestral family townhome. The entire location has already been placed under Fidelius."

Voldemort sighed wistfully. "Ah, the Fidelius… How like Dumbledore. I don't suppose it's an easily breakable Fidelius?" There were, of course, ways to nullify the Fidelius charm. She herself had broken the Fidelius on the Potters' cottage in Godric's Hollow after killing off James and Lily, as the secret hidden by the charm specifically referenced that the abode was being used as the "Potter family's hiding place". In killing off James and Lily, she had broken the Fidelius by rendering the information it was hiding untrue — after all, Harry on his own didn't count as a "family".

The problem with breaking a Fidelius was that it was basically impossible to do unless one knew the secret in the first place. After all, how can one render a statement untrue if they don't even know what the statement is? It was an interesting quirk of the magic, but the weakness was far too impractical to exploit in a vast majority of circumstances.

"It is not," Severus confirmed. That wasn't surprising. After Voldemort had figured out how to break the Fideliuses on a few of his safehouses, usually by destroying nearby landmarks, Dumbledore had taken to using the charm to locations using secrets which were not so easily nullified. For all his faults, the man did learn from his mistakes… most of the time. Either way, from what she could remember, the Black townhouse was in London, which was too dense to easily break a Fidelius in the first place.

"That's a pity." It really wasn't, but she sure wasn't about to tell Severus that until she knew where his loyalties lay. The Order could do as they pleased for now. Back in the last war, they were almost always focused on counterattacks, and only went on the offensive when Sirius Black or Lily Potter was in charge of a mission. Lily was dead, and Sirius couldn't show his face in public, which severely neutered the Order's capabilities. "Who all has joined the Order this time around?"

"The Weasleys," Severus said with a sneer, "Black, Moody, Diggle, Vance, Jones, Podmore, Doge, McGonagall, and Hagrid. The three new members are a lowlife named Mundungus Fletcher, and two Aurors, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks."

Most of those names weren't surprising. Voldemort would have to ask some of her connections about Fletcher, as she'd never heard of him. Nymphadora, though… Nymphadora, she knew. She was Bella's niece, and made quite the impression in Quirrell's classes. The fact that she was able to make Auror only three years after graduating spoke to her already impressive skill. Voldemort would have to keep an eye on her — she was always looking to recruit those of extreme talent.

"Very well then. Keep me informed of their actions, especially those of Mister Potter and Miss Tonks. Speaking of Mister Potter… What can you tell me about him? Please be as thorough as possible."

The vehemence dripping from Severus's voice as he spoke of Potter was palpable. "He is a spoiled, arrogant brat. He thinks himself above the rules, above consequences, and above others. If not for the fact that I doubt he has the skill to have pulled it off, I would have suspected that he did enter himself into the tournament in an attempt to garner more attention."

And so on Severus went, complaining about every little detail while Voldemort considered what he was saying. What he was saying was so… outlandishly different from what she'd witnessed of the boy that she was certain that he had to be lying. Severus could be projecting his hatred of James Potter onto the boy, but the vehemence he was showing now went far beyond the hatred he'd held for James.

The other possibility… was that he was lying to her face, painting an unsavoury picture of the boy so that she'd either lose interest in him or critically underestimate him.

Well, Severus was truly lost to her, then. Even if he hadn't turned traitor to Dumbledore's side, she wasn't about to trust the reports of a spy who couldn't contain his biases.

"My Lady…" Severus asked once he had finished his report, "Potter is saying that you let him go and that you have declared your feud with him over. Is that true? Are you really prepared to let the boy go?"

Well there was no way she was giving him a direct answer to that. If she told him that she wasn't interested in killing Harry and he had turned traitor, then that might lead to the Order discovering that he was one of her horcruxes, resulting in his death. She'd rather not have him die, nor have her horcrux destroyed. On the other hand, if she said that she was still interested in killing him, then it was highly likely that Harry would be squirrelled away to the fideliused Order headquarters, removing her window for trying to sway him over the summer. Giving a definitive answer either way would be bad for her, and bad for Harry.

"I say many things, Severus. Whether or not you believe them is up to you." It was a bit harsh of her to allude to her broken promise to save Lily Potter, but she wasn't sure that there was anything left to lose between the two of them. Such a pity… She'd always been fond of Severus, as she had been of all of her apprentices.

Severus dismissed himself soon after, leaving her alone on her throne. It was a lot sillier to be sitting on an ostentatious throne in a room by oneself than it was to be doing so when addressing an underling. Voldemort hopped down from her seat and set off to see how Barty was progressing in his attempts to gather alchemy texts. Once that was done, maybe she'd check in on some of her other tasks for the summer… after she'd obtained some snacks, of course.

This summer was turning out to be hot — one of the hottest on record, if the reports on the telly were to be believed. Harry didn't think that he'd ever had to deal with such painfully high temperatures before. On the bright side, Vernon and Petunia were no longer forcing him to do most of the chores, so Harry was free to spend most of the day out of the house, away from their company.

His more cynical side was convinced that they were only letting him off easy in some vain hope that he'd suffer from heatstroke while outside. Either that, or they were finally realising that he would soon be an adult wizard who could do whatever he wanted to them without fear of repercussions.

Whichever it was, Harry was free to spend his summers on his own. He'd changed some of the money from his trust vault into muggle money two years ago when he spent those few weeks at Diagon Alley, so he was able to buy his own lunches, further avoiding the Dursleys' company.

It was bad that, despite Voldemort returning, this had been one of the best summers he'd had so far. Harry was currently wandering through the local park, looking for a bench far away from most of the crowds. He eventually managed to find one near a copse of trees, so he promptly sat down and closed his eyes.

"Knut for your thoughts, Harry." A voice said from behind him.

He whirled around, eyes opening wide in fear, as he recognised Voldemort's voice. "What are you…? Why…? How…?" He pointed his wand at her, though she didn't seem to feel at all threatened by the action.

Instead, she sat down on the bench next to him and leaned back. "I was bored and you were easy to find."

It was bizarre, seeing her in a muggle park. If it wasn't for the red eyes, she wouldn't have stood out at all. She was wearing a surprisingly modern outfit consisting of a plain white blouse and black slacks and dress shoes, like the kind of clothing one would get in a high-end muggle clothing store. The mere thought of Voldemort shopping for clothes in a muggle store was so… jarring that Harry didn't even know where to begin.

He was also extremely alarmed that he was apparently "easy to find", especially by Voldemort, of all people. He wasn't even going to address the fact that her reaction to boredom had been to track him down. "How? There are blood protections here, and they should have stopped you…"

Voldemort leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "There are two problems with that. For one, those wards are keyed to stop anyone with hostile intent, which I don't have. Secondly, while they are also designed to specifically stop me, I used your blood when I resurrected myself, meaning that aspect of the protections cannot target me. If it was only one or the other, I wouldn't be able to get to you, but since they're both true, I am free to bother you as much as I like."

Harry regarded her cautiously. It was bizarre seeing Voldemort like this, eyes closed and lounging on a park bench as though her guard was down. Harry doubted that her guard was actually down, as there was no way that she would be foolish enough to do when he had his wand drawn at her.

Slowly, Harry let the tension leave his body. He didn't dare let his wand leave his hand, but he at least stopped pointing it at her. Eventually, curiosity won out over cautiousness, so he decided to listen to what she had to say… for now.

"So, you're still insisting that you don't want to kill me?" He asked, still not totally believing it despite the circumstances. He didn't know if he'd believe anything coming from her.

"Of course I don't want to kill you." She said without moving from her current pose. "As I said back in the graveyard, the prophecy between us is fulfilled. You vanquished me, after all. Luckily for me, vanquishing is not the same as killing. I wish I'd realised that earlier…"

"What is this about a prophecy, then? The first time I ever heard about a prophecy between us was when you mentioned it in the graveyard."

Voldemort opened her eyes, a faint flicker of surprise visible on her face. "'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lady approaches, born to those who have thrice defied her, born as the seventh month dies.' There's more to it, of course, but that's all I know. Learning the rest is a low priority, as I have no reason to suspect that it hasn't already been fulfilled."

It was a bit annoying that the first he'd heard of this supposed prophecy was coming from Voldemort's mouth, rather than Professor Dumbledore's. "I still can't believe that this is the first I'm hearing of this. Does anyone know about it besides you?"

She shrugged. "As far as I know, Dumbledore is the only one to know the whole thing." Right, Harry vaguely remembered Moody saying something to that effect after the graveyard. His memories of what happened afterwards were very fuzzy, though. "I can't imagine why he didn't tell you, though. I mean, sure, it's technically classified information, but I'd expect him to tell you the part of the prophecy that I know, or at least inform you that one exists."

Harry was able to recognise that that was an attempt to shake his faith in Professor Dumbledore. Unfortunately, merely recognising it didn't stop it from having an effect on him. Why hadn't Professor Dumbledore told him about the prophecy?

Well, if Voldemort was going to spend her time trying to sway him, then he could at least try and get some more information out of her.

"So what have you been doing?" Harry asked in what was possibly the worst attempt at fishing for information that anyone had ever attempted in the history of everything, ever.

However poor his attempt was, Voldemort actually answered his question. "Right now? I've been laying low. The Ministry believes me dead, and I have no desire to correct that misconception so long as it remains useful to me. I can use this time to gather resources and allies. Also, less time spent on the field means more time to research, which has always been my true passion."

An actual smile graces her face at the mention of research, the first time Harry had seen her express anything more than the barest hint of emotion.

"Besides, the current situation is working out in my favour." She explains, the smile vanishing as she continues her explanation. "The Ministry is staunchly refusing to admit my return, and Dumbledore's insistence on pushing the issue has resulted in him losing a lot of his political capital."

"Wait," Harry interrupted, "He has?"

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you been reading the paper?"

He shook his head. "I get a weekly issue of the Prophet at school, but Sirius convinced me that it would be a bad idea to get public owl post sent to my address." Which was a reasonable precaution, under the circumstances. Of course, that precaution was rendered moot by the fact that he was currently having a conversation with Lady fucking Voldemort herself.

"Ah, well, the Daily Prophet has been running a smear campaign against him, painting him as an old man who's losing touch with the world. Unfortunately, you've been caught up in some of those smear campaigns, too. I've had Lucius work on mitigating the focus on you, but the man's influence isn't infinite, and Cornelius is quite put out with you."

Harry groaned. "Great, another year in which I get to be smeared by the media." It would have been nice to have another year where most of his classmates weren't ostracising him.

"To be fair, I did warn you that no one would believe you if you told them about my return." Voldemort said. "People don't want to believe that I've returned, and so long as I keep a low profile, they won't. It's part of the reason I let you keep your memories — it was a win-win scenario for me. Either you didn't tell anyone, in which case I would be free to ready myself for the upcoming war without any interference from anyone, or you tell Dumbledore, in which case I can perform a smear campaign against Dumbledore at the mere cost of having to deal with some pesky members of his Order."

Much as he was annoyed at how it had affected him, personally, he had to admit that it was a pretty brilliant plan. Also, Professor Dumbledore had an Order? That was news to Harry. "So that's why you let me keep my memories? Because no matter what I did, it would benefit you?"

"Well, there was always the chance that Dumbledore wouldn't try and persuade the Minister, but I considered that to be an unlikely outcome based on my knowledge of the man — knowledge that turned out to predict his actions perfectly. That said, the other reason that I let you keep your memories is because I was honest about wanting to take you on as an apprentice. Speaking of which, I don't suppose you've reconsidered?" Voldemort asked the last part with an inquisitive gaze.

"My answer is still no." Harry replied forcefully. Even if this entire thing wasn't some sort of elaborate ruse — a possibility he wouldn't dismiss, he knew Voldemort was a master manipulator — then he was still hesitant to be taught by the woman who murdered his parents, among other issues.

"Why, if I may ask?" Her gaze was still locked on him. "Why are you refusing my offer? Be completely honest."

"Because, even if I was willing to look past the fact that you killed my parents — which I'm not — then I would still have no desire to be taught by someone like you."

"Someone like me." Voldemort repeated, her voice taking on a low tone. "What do you mean by that?"

Harry felt the previously diminishing tension return. "A blood purist, a terrorist, a murderer," He said, trying to keep his voice even, "Someone who uses fear to get what they want."

"Well, that's disappointing." Voldemort replied, leaning back on the bench once more. "It seems that you've bought into all the common propaganda over my movement. Would you like to know something, Harry?"

Harry was not sure if he would like to know whatever she was about to dump on him, but he didn't get a chance to refuse.

"The only reason that I am known as a terrorist instead of a revolutionary is because I lost, and history is written by the victors. I won't be losing this war, I'll have you know. You are literally the only reason I lost the last time around, and now that there is no longer a prophecy at play, there is no 'deus ex machina' to stop me."

"Is that why you want me to be your apprentice, then?" Harry asked. "You want to make sure that I'm on your side of the war since I stopped you last time?"

Voldemort laughed. "Harry, I would want to recruit you regardless of your role in my vanquishing. Your parents were some of the best fighters in the Order of the Phoenix, and the two were an unstoppable pair in combat. Your mother was a master of offence and your father was a master of defence. I offered each of them an apprenticeship on multiple occasions, and I was incredibly disheartened when it became clear that I would have to kill them. They are the only people who ever bested me in fair combat — even Dumbledore was only able to fight me to a standstill. It was their extreme skill that led me to believe that you were the one spoken of in the prophecy, as anyone who inherited even a portion of their combined power would be stronger than me. I would be a fool to pass up on the opportunity to cultivate one as strong as yourself."

This was the first time Harry had ever heard anyone talk about his parents' role in the war against Voldemort. He knew that they fought her, but to hear that they almost beat her? He also had no idea that they were so outrageously powerful, as most people didn't speak extensively about their skill in magic. "If you respected my parents so much, then why didn't you try and recruit them?" He asked.

Voldemort just laughed. "It wasn't for a lack of trying, believe me. Alas, they were firmly in Dumbledore's pocket and weren't willing to hear me out on any of the occasions I approached them. I was at least able to get Peter and Severus from their respective friend groups, though. Unfortunately, Severus is antisocial and more suited to inventing than combat, and Peter lacks the stomach for outright confrontation and is best suited for espionage. I never got any of the most combat-savvy members of their age group."

Seve-wait, Snape!? Dumbledore was convinced that Snape had betrayed Voldemort, but here she was, talking about him as though he was still on her side. Surely she wouldn't believe that Snape was on her side, especially not after Dumbledore had publicly testified for him. Unless… Snape hadn't turned traitor?

"What… What does Snape do for the Death Eaters, anyways?" Harry asked, hoping she wouldn't catch on.

"Oh, Snape is my spy in the Order of the Phoenix. He keeps me up to date on everything that Dumbledore and the others get up to."

Harry wasn't sure if Voldemort was trying to mislead him or if she was being genuinely upfront with Snape's role in her circle. Either way, he had gained a whole new distrust for his potions teacher.

Voldemort stood up and stretched. "Well, this was a good talk, Harry. Alas, I have other business I need to attend to. Also, the Confundus charm I cast on your guard is about to wear off."

Wait, Harry had a guard? Before he could ask for further details about that Voldemort lashed her arm out in front of her, taking a firm grip on an invisible object. Harry saw a faint shimmer in the air as she did so, like the fluttering of an invisibility cloak. Voldemort and the shimmering figure then vanished with a loud crack, leaving Harry alone in the park.

What the hell was his life turning into…?

Tonks was feeling so disoriented right now. Had she gone on some kind of bender last night after her shift? The last thing she could remember was going to keep watch on Harry, then… she had left? She didn't remember why she had left, but she knew that she had. She remembered the suffocating feeling of apparition, and then… nothing. As her senses slowly came back to her, she could smell salt in the air and hear the sound of waves crashing against rocks. How in Merlin's name had she ended up by the ocean?

"Wakey wakey, Nymphadora." A voice whispered in her ear. White-hot anger at being referred to by her first name forced her to her senses. She pushed herself away from the figure and reached for her wand, only to find that her default wand was gone, as were her two backups.

Okay, this was definitely bad, but there was no way she'd be going down without a fight. Tonks knew a limited amount of wandless magic and she was pretty skilled in hand to hand combat, so she should still have the advantage against the average witch or wizard. "Don't call me Nymph… a… dora…" The defiant tone died in her throat as she recognised the figure in front of her, or rather, she recognised her from a description. "Voldemort…"

"Good, you recognise me. That saves me the trouble of having to introduce myself."

Oh gods, Tonks was moments away from dying. She was face to face with Voldemort with her back to an oceanside cliff in the middle of nowhere without a wand. There was no way she could hope to take on Voldemort with her wand, let alone without one. Her only hope of survival was wandless apparition, but she could feel the slight tingle in the air that told her that this place was under an anti-apparition jinx. She was so, so dead.

"I recognise you, of course." Voldemort went on. "You made quite the impression on me back in Quirrell's class. You were so talented, so driven. You were the best in your year, maybe one of the best Hogwarts had seen in over a decade. You went into the Auror academy straight out of Hogwarts, an achievement that was unheard of ever since Moody did the same decades earlier." Suddenly, Voldemort was gone, vanishing from where she was standing and reappearing directly to Tonks's right. It wasn't apparition — it was silent, instant. She would have thought it was an illusion if she didn't feel the woman's power move with her. Voldemort's tone then took on a deadly serious note (emphasis on deadly). "And here you are now, over three years later, wasting your potential acting as babysitter for the boy-who-lived. Such a pity."

"Are you going to kill me?" Tonks asked shakily.

Voldemort let out a single, wry laugh. "Please, if I wanted you dead-" She disappeared from in front of her, and the next thing Tonks knew her mouth was being covered by a hand and a wand was shoved against her throat. "-then you would already be dead. Rest assured, I have no desire to cut you down." The hand and wand were gone as quickly as they had appeared, and Voldemort reappeared in a relaxed pose with her back to the seaside just as a spray of ocean water crashed over the rocks.

"What do you want, then?" Tonks whispered.

Voldemort vanished again, appearing right behind Tonks for the second time and whispering in her ear. "I want you to stop wasting your talents! Your skills are wasted in the Order, and I want you to remember that every time they shunt you to some mundane guard duty." Voldemort vanished from behind her and reappeared where she was before faster than Tonks could process. What the hell kind of skill was that? "You are one of the best, Nymphadora. I want you to keep that, and me, in mind if you ever decide to seek… alternative employment. If you'll excuse me, I need to be getting back to my safehouse — I have magic to research. Farewell for now, Nymphadora." Voldemort tossed her wands in the air and loudly apparated away as soon as they left her palm.

Tonks scrambled for her wands and apparated away as soon as she had them. Then she apparated again. And again. And again. It was only after the fifth consecutive apparition that she was fairly certain she wasn't being followed and allowed the overwhelming panic to set in. Her hands hadn't stopped shaking, and she couldn't help but marvel in the fact that she was somehow still alive. What the hell was that even about? Alternative employment? Did Voldemort actually expect her to join the Death Eaters? That was absolutely ridiculous… right?

There was time to ponder that later. For now, Tonks needed a nice, strong coffee laced with some nice, strong booze. She'd tell the Order about it once she'd regained her composure.

…Also, she needed more wands. Two backups were clearly not enough.

"Well, my day has been quite productive." Voldemort said as she marched into Malfoy Manor. "How has your work been coming along, Barty?"

Barty grunted into his book. It had not, in fact, been going well. He had already studied basic alchemy, enough to permanently shift an object's form without altering its substance. Voldemort had insisted that he learn the skill, as it had proven to be incredibly useful in combat. This, though? This involved duplication, extraction, extrusion, and transmutation all in one, none of which he had studied.

It also didn't help that no one actually wrote down how to make a Stone. Alchemists were a secretive bunch, and despite the fact that a fair amount of people did seem to know the concept behind making them, no one really elaborated on how the process of making a Stone actually progressed. If Voldemort's statement was correct, then it made sense — no one besides the Flamels advertised that they could make a Stone, and being able to write down the exact steps would be a good indicator that they could make them. There were occasional examples of starting steps, and a whole lot of riddles.

Heh… Riddles. He'd tell Voldie that joke if she wouldn't skin him for referencing her birth name.

"That well, huh?" She said sarcastically.

"I don't know nearly enough alchemy." He explained. "I need to basically work my way entirely to the mastery level before we can even attempt creating a stone."

Voldemort sighed. "I was afraid of that. How long do you think that will take?"

Barty ran some estimations in his head. "Maybe… two, three weeks?"

She laughed. "Have I mentioned that I love you, Barty?"

"When you say you love me-"

"Not like that." She deadpanned.

"So, what did you get accomplished today?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Well, to start with I interrogated Severus a bit. Unfortunately, I believe that we truly did lose him to Dumbledore's side the moment I killed Lily, perhaps even before that."

"Bastard."

Voldemort rolled her eyes. "Really, he was infatuated with her — it's not that surprising. After I was fairly certain that he had betrayed us, I gave him a mix of true and false information and refused to directly answer his questions."

Barty nodded. "Went with the old 'imply but don't lie technique'?"

"Of course. Lies have a tendency to come to oneself, whereas a misdirection can be blamed on the listener for 'not understanding'."

"What about your other tasks?"

She leaned her back against the desk on which Barty had set all of the books. "I got lucky on that front, actually. Nymphadora was keeping watch on Harry, no doubt as part of some nonsense Order duty, so I was able to speak with both of them. I confunded Nymphadora to make her think she'd gone back to her flat before grabbing her and giving a quick speech. Have I mentioned how much I miss being able to Blink? Being a wraith was awful — I had to physically move everywhere instead of just-" Voldie vanished from where she was leaned against the desk and reappeared on top of one of the adjacent bookshelves. "-go wherever I need to."

"You know Lucius hates it when you do that inside his house." Barty commented idly.

Voldie got an absolutely devilish grin on her face. "I know he does, but it's not like he can stop me. There are no wards that can stop Blinking."

"Only because you invented it yourself and have never explained how it works." He flipped a page in one of the books. Were all alchemy texts this dry? He certainly hoped not. If they were, then it might take him four to five weeks to reach a mastery level in the field instead of his predicted two to three.

"Well that's not true." She said as she gracefully floated down from the top of the bookshelf using the wandless flight spell that she'd invented. Really, was it any wonder that Voldie was almost impossible to hit in a fight? The woman was an absolute menace when it came to manoeuvrability. "I did try to teach you how to Blink, remember? It's hardly my fault that you were never able to learn the skill."

Barty did remember, and he was still immensely frustrated that it was one of the few skills he'd never been able to learn with any sort of ease. Or at all.

"So what all did you discuss in your 'little chats'?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that. Harry doesn't seem to trust me, which is sensible. I doubt he'd be worthy of recruitment if he didn't maintain some level of wariness towards me. Luckily, Dumbledore seems to be keeping him out of the loop, so I have an in. Did you know that Dumbledore never told him about the prophecy? And I don't mean that Harry didn't know the exact wording, I mean he literally didn't even know that there was a prophecy until I mentioned it to him at the graveyard."

"No wonder the kid was in shock…" Seriously, Dumbledore's tendency to play his cards so close to his chest was going to bite him in the arse some day. Sure, Voldemort did have spies everywhere, but Dumbledore's desire to keep information from leaking led to him keeping all sorts of information secret even if it probably shouldn't be. Did he tell anyone in the order about the prophecy?

"It does add some additional clarity to that, yeah. Anyways, I talked about my love of taking in apprentices and how impressed I was by his parents but was never able to get them to hear me out. I brought up the fact that 'common knowledge' about my campaign is mostly propaganda. I may have also said that Severus is my spy in the Order."

Barty laughed at that last revelation. "You're just undermining him from all sides, aren't you?"

"What can I say? I don't like to do things by half measures."

Any further discussion was delayed as the door was opened with a loud "thump". Barty glanced back to see that Voldie's enormous serpentine familiar had opened the door and was slithering towards the two of them. Voldie immediately began making cutesy hisses at her. Barty didn't speak parseltongue, but he had picked up enough of the language to hear the word "cute" being used a disproportionate number of times. Really, he liked snakes, but not like she did.

He pointed his wand at a hunk of metal and reshaped it into a plain ingot before changing that into a whirling gyroscope. If he had to learn alchemy, he may as well run a refresher on the basics first.

A/N (Tendra): Voldemort likes to keep people on their toes.

Voldemort's ability to blink is one of the reasons she's such a menace in this fic. She is capable of an unblockable short-range teleport that can be spammed as often as she can keep her focus. The real reason why Dumbledore was so insistent on using the blood protections at Privet Drive is because it's one of the only things that would be able to stop her from just blinking across.

That's a key reason why she was so feared. Not only is she almost impossible to stop with wards, but she is almost impossible to hit in a fight because she can fly freely in addition to that. She could disappear and strike from any angle.

Also, Tonks makes her first appearance. Yay! This is the first time I've ever had a chance to write her in a fic aside from a brief cameo in Scrambled Sorting. I look forward to working with her.

E/N (Xgenje): Ok so, I was tired AF and still getting over my heatstroke while proofreading this, Ten was drunk, and I was also trying to get the Path of Exile Pissportal… It all sounds worse than it actually is.

A few things of import: in my exhausted state I said 'the Older of the Phoenix." I'm still mostly out of it so there may still be issues with the chapter I didn't catch so I apologise in advance. Also, Tonks gives her Thonks for livenating for another day.

I'm sorry for having you read that with your human eyes.

E/N (Felix): Late to the party but I arrived. There were a lot of ellipsis.

Also you can pry my italics from my cold, dead hands.

E/N (Foadar): Yeah, definitely Sith vibes from Voldemort. Use the power, use your talents. Darth Voldemort. Now we need a Sith name for Harry. Any suggestions?