When they arrived at the Death Eater headquarters, they joined a crowd, many of which appeared to be clutching letters identical to Avery's. That was reassuring to Sirius, and he thought he knew what was going on now. Someone was lecturing to the room to please stay calm and wait for instructions. Sirius ignored the speaker and steered Avery towards a potted plant. "Stay here," he ordered, and then started shoving his way towards the conference rooms. A rather large and imposing but otherwise unidentifiable Death Eater barred his way, until Sirius told him quietly, "I know why the letters were sent." This gained him immediate entry into the tense room where Voldemort and a table full of more senior Death Eaters sat.

Voldemort looked up at the interruption, and he looked displeased. Sirius decided to speak before anyone decided to either torture or murder him. "I can explain the letters," he said, loudly and as calmly as he could.

Voldemort raised his eyebrows. "Really? Enlighten us."

"They need more emergency obliviators because I just led a mission to blow up part of a stadium containing several thousand muggles."

There were a few startled noises, and a laugh that might have been Bella's, just based on the cadence. Voldemort himself half-smiled and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose that could explain it. My friends, witness the impetuousness of youth. Lucius never ruffled so many feathers as our young associate." He nodded to the person at his right hand. "Everyone who has been summoned to the Ministry shall be permitted to go. Far be it from me to completely destroy the International Statute of Secrecy, today. You who must may go now and instruct our followers. Please do not of course descend upon the Ministry en masse..." Four people got up from the table and left the room, none of whom could Sirius recognize. "Join us," Voldemort said, pointing him towards an abandoned chair halfway along the table. Right next to Bella, Sirius discovered when she patted his arm under the table.

"How many did you kill?" one of the Death Eaters asked.

Sirius shrugged. "No idea. Not that many, I think. The point was not to slay all the witnesses but to be seen by as many as possible."

"That you clearly were," the Dark Lord mused, perusing one of the letters yet again. He waved a hand to silence someone muttering about exterminating vermin. "It is well you listened to Lucius when you were in his keeping. Whatever his failures, he mastered walking the fine line between mere nuisance for the obliviators and overt criminality quite well. It surprised us all the aurors decided they'd had enough of him. As for you, well, I'm glad you did not eliminate those 'several thousand' this afternoon. The Ministry would hunt you with more efficiency than they did Lucius, and even the International Confederation of Wizards might have taken it poorly. We are not yet ready to make our cause global." He smiled toothily at Sirius. "Naturally, the muggle population must be curbed eventually, but I do not expect you to level another occupied stadium without permission from me."

"Yes, my lord." Sirius could say nothing more than that. It hadn't occurred to him that his and Avery's scheme might have been too big for Voldemort's taste. He braced himself for a Cruciatus along with the rebuke, but it was not forthcoming. Voldemort just kept thinking aloud.

"The chaos you managed to cause this afternoon is intriguing though. The Ministry appears strained to breaking containing this breach. I wonder, could you cause the same again? With a little more coordination, 'twould be an excellent distraction for a second mission."

Sirius hesitated. "I... probably could, my lord."

"Explain your limitations."

"It depends on what muggle events are scheduled when. I had the idea of attacking a big event, and happened to find out about their football League Cup happening this month, but they don't have those every day." Voldemort nodded, looking almost bored by the explanation. "Also, we had to change the plan and attack much earlier than originally intended today."

"Why?"

"Too many people. There were probably five thousand muggles there when we were in position, but more were coming every minute. There was room for twenty thousand in that place."

"That would have brought the International Confederation down on us for certain," someone said, possibly Rabastan. Sirius thought he recognized the embroidery on the collar under his outer robes.

Voldemort grinned. "Yes, it would have. And if you'd attacked during a League game, surely the news would have been broadcast electronically to many thousands more whom the Ministry could never track." Sirius blinked in surprise. The Dark Lord was supposed to be his parents' generation. He'd never met a pureblood wizard so old who could even pronounce the word "electricity," let alone conjugate the adverbial. He would have been hard-pressed to come up with it himself if put on the spot. Voldemort continued, "As I said, this is intriguing. If you had merely descended on that game in fury and destroyed everything and everyone in your path, well, the Dumbledores of the world would have wailed and cried outrage and rallied the sentimental masses against us, but the Ministry still could have cleaned it all up in a trice. They would disguise it as a muggle bombing and leave the muggle government to explain the wherefores. But by leaving the vast majority alive..." his grin widened, splitting his gaunt face like a fleshless skull. His eyes shone with churning thought. "I bade Lucius to use his muggle-baiting hobby to keep the Ministry busy. You will turn that hobby into an occupation and a weapon we can use to accomplish much, much more. Tell me, what do you require to, shall we say, calibrate your activities?"

Calibrate? It took a beat for Sirius to understand what the Dark Lord was asking, but the answers were obvious as soon as he did. "I need a halfblood." There were a few snorts, quickly stifled under Voldemort's glare. "Someone who can help me pick targets more precisely, who would understand exactly what we're getting into. Someone who would have known ahead of time how full that game was likely to be." An Imperiused muggleborn or squib would also work, but he wouldn't suggest that sort of crime. "And... if the goal is for me to go from tickling the obliviators' noses to almost-but-not-quite toppling the Statute of Secrecy to everything in between at will, then I need a lot more information about the capabilities of the Office of Obliviation." He nodded at the handful of letters still littering the table. "Especially if they're going to pull tricks like that."

Voldemort inclined his head. "You have done well, and you ask little enough. Rodolphus, you shall find a halfblood willing to work with young Sirius on this most worthy endeavor. Tell Augustus he shall discover what is needful at the Ministry. Sirius, you will stick to smaller ventures for now, until we know exactly how much trouble you can cause for the Ministry without wrecking equal havoc on us." Bella tittered next to him and squeezed his hand excitedly. "The next time you attack a gathering of this magnitude, it will be on my orders."

"Yes, my lord," Sirius answered obediently. He was left to wonder why he suddenly had a name again. Then again, it would surely be both tiresome and confusing for Voldemort to refer to everyone by careful euphemisms at all times. The core of the Death Eaters must surely all know each others' names. Perhaps, if Bella's pleased reaction was anything to go by, Sirius had now proved himself sufficiently. Perhaps he would soon be gaining greater access. He smiled to himself and made a mental note to check that Moody had overheard the name Augustus, but also to ask that Moody and Dumbledore keep it to themselves for now. Augustus was not a unique name, but still it wouldn't do to out the person as a Death Eater the same day Sirius started moving up in the ranks.


Death Eaters Attack Muggle Sporting Event

By Barnabus Cuffe

Summons from the Ministry of Magic caused panic Tuesday as the Office of Obliviation fought to contain the most egregious breach of the Statute of Secrecy in over thirty years, since the end of Grindelwald's War on the continent. According to a Ministry spokesman, two Death Eaters apparated into a muggle sport stadium in London, lobbed multiple curses into the crowd, blasted apart a portion of the stands, and finally cast the Dark Mark into the skies before disappearing again. Remarkably, most of the muggle deaths and injuries are said to have been caused by the resulting stampede rather than by evil curses directly. According to Moneta Lethe, Head Obliviator, "The muggles were lucky in a way. Because there were only two Death Eaters, they didn't target that many individuals, and the ones they did were hit mostly with torture curses rather than lethal magic. We were lucky, too. There was a squib in the stands. She obviously couldn't do anything about the Death Eaters, but she did what she could to keep the breach [of the Statute of Secrecy] from getting even worse."

Reporters spoke to the squib in question, who preferred to remain anonymous due to the ongoing investigation and fear Death Eaters might target her. "I was there with my neighbor to watch the game. He's a muggle you see, and it was his birthday. Just as we took our seats, these two wizards in black robes and masks showed up and started cursing left and right. My neighbor doesn't know a thing about us, but he figured out right away that this was 'some sort of witchcraft or deviltry!' He wanted to take pictures, but I knocked the camera out of his hands. Then I hurried up to the press box, where they were just as excited of course and starting to call for policemen and things. I knew we couldn't have that happening, so I bashed everyone in there over the head with my handbag. I've got a bunch of cats at home, and there were a couple cans of cat food in my bag. Then I bashed their radio and television equipment too, just to be safe."

Policemen are a kind of muggle auror, and a television is a kind of muggle device like a radio that transmits moving pictures instead of sound. The squib assured me it was not magic but used elect-rice-tea, same as their street lights (which are no longer done with gas lamps).

Regardless of this brave squib's efforts, the Office of Obliviation was forced to call upon civilian resources to alter the memories of nearly five thousand surviving muggle witnesses. Emergency summons were sent to every witch and wizard in the country without a criminal record and with an Outstanding in NEWT-level Charms. Griselda Marchbanks, CDMG, APMO, fdBB, current Governor of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, explains, "It is impossible to achieve an Outstanding on the Charms N.E.W.T. without demonstrating proficiency in obliviation, thus the emergency measure enacted yesterday was really the readiest option to temporarily bolster the obliviators' numbers. My office has been asked to review all the living Exceeds Expectations recipients as well to identify other possible candidates should such a terrible attack on muggles happen again."

Obliviator Lethe adds, "We encourage every witch and wizard who is capable of obliviation to register with the Ministry, and we thank Professor Marchbanks and other examiners for their assistance in certifying our civilian volunteers." When asked about the threatened fines and other legal action mentioned in the ubiquitous letters, Obliviator Lethe said, "That part didn't come from my department. You'd have to ask the Minister's office. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go back to the field. We still have over three thousand to go." Reporters were unable to follow up with Obliviator Lethe again before press time.

We briefly spoke with Undersecretary Bagnold, who signed the summons, but she said her office was still busy coordinating with the muggle government and referred us to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We attempted to speak with Director Crouch or his representative, however only managed a brief conversation with Auror Alastor Moody, "We are busy fighting a war. Obstruction of the war effort is treated as such. And I hope to Merlin whichever damn Death Eaters did this get an earful from You-Know-Who and decide not to do it again." We leave it up to our readers to conclude if Mr. Moody is correct that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named might not have sanctioned Tuesday's violence and chaos.

Sirius reread the last paragraph several times. Moody knew it was him, obviously, so was this Moody's message for him? Admittedly, the more Sirius was learning about the fallout from his mission, the worse he was feeling about it. He hadn't thought the muggles would be hurt without actually being in the line of fire. He still didn't understand how they could have died in a human stampede. Humans weren't like dragons or horses where size and speed were meaningful dangers. He also still didn't know much about muggle radio and television.

"Sirius!" Narcissa waved a hand in front of his face, and he jumped. "You can dwell on your ego piece after we've finished moving you in."

"Right. Of course." He dropped Thursday's Daily Prophet back on the hall table where he'd found it and picked up the small box of personal belongings he had brought over from Bella's house. Narcissa's elf had already taken his clothes and toiletries over earlier that morning, and had probably already finished organizing them in the wardrobe of his new room. He followed Narcissa up the grand staircase and past the upstairs sitting room to the hall with the family suites. They passed Abraxas' and Lucretia's, where Lucretia was apparently still abed after a late night assisting in the obliviation effort. Next they passed Lucius' and Narcissa's room, then the first and finest guest suite, and then came to the second guest bedroom, which would be Sirius' for the time being. Sirius arrival was quite sudden as these things go; the house elf was still puttering around, removing dust clothes from the chairs and arranging a vase of flowers when Narcissa pushed open the door.

The elf bowed low before them. "Dobby is almost finished putting things in order for Master Sirius! Dobby is just needing to dust the desk and mantle and oil the hinge on the wardrobe..."

Narcissa nodded vaguely and gestured for it to carry on. "This should have everything you need, Sirius, but do ask Dobby if you find anything lacking."

Sirius looked around. It was, of course, a luxurious room, with a wide four-poster bed, wardrobe and nightstand on one side of the room, desk by the window and armchair by the hearth. All the furniture was matching, finely carved mahogany. A door in the corner presumably led to the ensuite. The only thing he imagined he'd need would be silencing spells and other anti-eavesdropping measures, which he would place himself this evening. "I'm sure I'll be fine." He strode over to the desk, which was already bare of any dust so far as he could tell, and set down his box. He took out his sheaf of Dark Arts notes and shoved them into a drawer then carelessly emptied the box of its cigarettes, lighter, ash tray, penknife, dagger, wooden case of rings he'd cursed under Bella's supervision, fire whiskey, and various transfigured knickknacks. He shoved the empty box in the house elf's general direction. "You can get rid of this."

The elf took it silently. Narcissa came up behind him and glanced over his shoulder. "Those are pretty." She reached out and picked up the carved stone globe that was once Ivan Butler.

Carefully controlling his expression, he took that one from her and handed her the rock-dart-grim instead. He passed Ivan back and forth between his hands a moment with deliberate casualness. "This one's just a paperweight, but it turned out well. I transfigured them myself. I can make you something, if you like."

"You made this?" She peered at the little grim, marveling at the details of its fur.

"Yep."

"I did not know you were so talented, Cousin. You could give up on your current career and be a sculptor."

"And if you agreed to be my patron, that might even be a financially sound decision," Sirius said with a grin.

Narcissa smiled back. "I'd gladly accept one of your creations. And I'd love to help you experiment. We could get you some uncut gems-"

"To make you a new necklace?"

"Exactly. And maybe I'll set you loose on some of the uglier statues in the sculpture garden."

Sirius shrugged. "I'm game." It could be nice to have a wholesome hobby for a change.

Narcissa handed him the miniature grim back. "I'm very happy to host you, Sirius. You're not at all the wretched, argumentative boy I remember from that last, unfortunate Christmas party. It's about time the two of us got to know eachother better as adults."

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome. Now, we should get out of Dobby's way. We can wait for Abraxas in the formal parlor. He tolerates surprises better with that ambience."

Sirius snorted. "You didn't tell him I was coming?"

Narcissa shrugged. "I've barely seen him since Lucius' arrest."

"This will be fun, then."


Abraxas returned with a loud crack, apparating directly to the drawing room where Sirius was sitting with Narcissa and Lucretia Malfoy, awaiting the call to lunch. The lord of the house appeared to be in a terrible mood, and his scowl only deepened when he saw Sirius. Lucretia stood up immediately. "How did it go?" she asked without preamble.

Rather than answering his wife, Abraxas continued to eye Sirius. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Visiting Narcissa," he said blandly.

Lucretia looked between the two of them and frowned. "You didn't know, Brax? Sirius was here when I got up this morning, and Narcissa said he was to be staying with us until further notice."

All eyes turned towards him again. Sirius shrugged. "Bella thought it was a good idea," which was perfectly true.

Abraxas snorted. "So, the Dark Lord doesn't want me to go without a marked man in my house. I see how it is. I suppose it's no coincidence you're here today. Damn, do you move fast though. I should have guessed something was up by how chatty Antonin was." Sirius smiled slyly, even though he had little idea what Abraxas was on about. It was only to his and Narcissa's good if Abraxas believed he had an ulterior motive for being here unrelated to Narcissa's as-yet unrevealed pregnancy.

Lucretia's face paled. "What happened?" she asked softly.

"He refused," Abraxas said shortly, though his face was filled with anger.

"How can he refuse us?"

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?" Narcissa asked. Sirius silently thanked her. If Abraxas had concluded Sirius was here under Voldemort's orders, it would be very helpful to know why.

Abraxas glared at Sirius a moment longer, then sighed, apparently deciding there was no point in concealing his actions from his unwanted houseguest. "Since the Ministry is being stubborn, I asked the Dark Lord to...arrange for Lucius' freedom. I'm sorry I did not tell you, my dear, I did not want to get your hopes up. I was denied." Sirius wasn't surprised, either by Abraxas' audacity in wanting to break Lucius out of Azkaban, or in Voldemort's refusal to go along with it. Voldemort had no interest in coddling what he saw as failure, certainly not when it was someone else's idea.

Narcissa's eyes filled with artful tears. They might even be genuine, Sirius wasn't sure. She smiled prettily. "Thank you for trying, sir."

Abraxas nodded unhappily, then guided Lucretia back to the loveseat and sat down. He rubbed his neck. "I visited the Ministry again as well. They're still in disarray today, but Crouch's secretary at least consented to get Lucius' trial scheduled, in about two months. And I have a permit to visit him, next week."

"I should come with you," Lucretia said instantly.

Abraxas patted her hand. "No, I don't want you to see that. Nor you, Narcissa. I'll go alone."

It was at that moment that the chimes rang for lunch. Sirius offered Narcissa his arm to escort her to the lunch room as Abraxas escorted Lucretia. Conversation was polite and banal over the meal. No one appeared particularly hungry, least of all Narcissa, who had earlier informed Sirius she had been struggling with morning sickness on and off for weeks. Apparently, although the anti-nausea potion worked well to get her through breakfast, it tended to wear off by lunch, to the point she skipped the midday meal when it was bad.

As it happened, today was the day Lucretia finally decided to comment on that. Thank Merlin Sirius had moved in this morning and not tomorrow. "Narcissa, dear, you haven't been eating well at all. Is it simple worry for Lucius? You know he would want you to take care of yourself. Or are you not feeling well? I would be happy to call a healer for you."

Narcissa stopped scraping the cream off her dessert. She took a deep breath and summoned a new round of tears. "Actually... I'm pregnant." Lucretia beamed, Abraxas looked up and stared, and Sirius decided to copy him.

"Oh, Narcissa, that's wonderful!"

Narcissa nodded morosely. "It's almost four months now. W-we were going to make the announcement next week, once we felt th-the r-risk of m-m-miscarriage was past." She started crying in earnest, which Sirius felt sure was a façade but a very well done one. "And n-now L-l-lucius might not even be here for the birth of his son!"

Lucretia leapt out of her chair and hurried around to hug Narcissa. "Shh... there, there, dear. You must not stress yourself about all that. It isn't good for the baby. You know Abraxas and I will do anything to bring Lucius home. Shh..."

Narcissa allowed herself to be soothed and fanned her eyes. "I'm sorry for making a scene..."

"Nonsense, dear."

"You were right to tell us now, though I too wish Lucius could have been here to share in the moment and make it more joyful," Abraxas said slowly.

Studying the three of them, Sirius decided Narcissa had the situation well in hand, with neither in-law inclined to do or say anything that might upset her further. The best thing he could do for her would probably be to leave, so there would be even less suspicion drawn to their secret purpose. He took one more bite of cake and set down his cutlery as quietly as possible. He cleared his throat and assumed a mildly uncertain tone, "Um, congratulations, Narcissa." He cringed slightly at Lucretia's disparaging glance. Narcissa did not acknowledge him and started digging in her pocket for a handkerchief. Abraxas hurriedly handed her one, which she accepted gratefully. "Right, I'm sorry, cousin. I'll get out of your hair. I have business today anyway..." he stood up quickly from the table and turned from the room.

"I'll walk you out," Abraxas announced. He briefly laid a comforting hand on Narcissa's shoulder. "I'll be back shortly, my dear. Why don't you two take a moment to freshen up, and then we can talk. Dobby!" The elf appeared instantly. "A pot of chamomile tea." The elf bowed and disappeared again. Abraxas strode forward and grabbed Sirius' elbow, practically dragging him from the room into the hallway. "Where are you going?" he asked suspiciously.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "London."

"And after?"

"Why do you want to know my business?"

Abraxas glowered. "You will not report ill of me to the Dark Lord. My ire over Lucius' situation is not directed at him."

Sirius did not bother to hide his reaction to the obvious lie. But he smiled. "I'm sure the Dark Lord understands your concern for your family," he said pleasantly. "A concern I share, as Lucius' friend and Narcissa's cousin."

"I'm glad to hear it. And you should know, I have been in the Dark Lord's confidence longer than you have been alive. He has trusted me with far more than he trusts you. Seek to undermine me, and the consequences will be unpleasant."

"Good thing I wasn't planning to undermine you, eh? We are family, after all."

Abraxas eyed him inscrutably. "Indeed. Have a pleasant trip to London, Sirius. I'll see you at dinner."

Sirius inclined his head and turned away. It was interesting that Abraxas had known the Dark Lord for over eighteen years, considering Voldemort had only declared himself eight years ago.


Death Toll Climbs to 67 from Craven Cottage Stampede

So proclaimed the muggle newspaper Sirius had come to London to steal. Sixty-seven!? A muggle pedestrian joggled his elbow, reminding him he probably shouldn't stand panicked in the middle of London like this. He couldn't very well go back to Malfoy Manor though, not until he calmed down. He looked around and darted into an alley to keep reading. Three hundred and five injured, one hundred eighty-three still hospitalized... crush injuries... rib fractures... asphyxia... head injuries... bodies stacked four feet deep in stairwells... Sirius' horror kept mounting the more he read. The muggle casualties were probably worsened by the fact that the Ministry had erected magical barriers to prevent muggles from escaping obliviation. Lucretia had mentioned that this morning, but she had said nothing about this horror. Maybe she didn't care, or maybe the Ministry obliviators had kept the civilian volunteers well back from the front line of the deadly scene.

Sirius had thought nothing of the barriers at the time. He had thought he was being clever with the whole scheme, and yet his own ignorance had caused disaster. They had ordered the muggles to flee, but there was nowhere for them to go, not once the Dark Mark alerted the Ministry.

The newspaper dropped from Sirius' shaking hands. He ducked between a couple of garbage bins and fumbled for his watch. He burst into tears the moment he saw Portrait Moody's tiny, angry face. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it. I didn't know..." he kept babbling apologies.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Sirius yelped and ducked instinctively, eyes darting wildly to identify his opponent. There was no one else in the alley that he could see. "Homenum Revelio!" The alley remained empty.

"Kid, calm down, no one's attacking you, I just had to get your attention." Sirius looked back at Moody. "Constant vigilance, remember? Where are you?"

"Muggle London," Sirius mumbled.

"At least you're not where you're likely to be overheard," the portrait grumbled. "Idiot."

"I am an idiot. I'm so sorry. I didn't know..."

"No, you didn't know. You weren't prepared, you made a huge mistake when you got creative, and you got a lot of people hurt. Honestly, Dumbledore or myself should have seen that coming and made me reach out before you did on Sunday to help you troubleshoot your fancy new job, but we didn't. Do you want us to get you out?"

"What?"

"If this is too much, you tell me, I tell Dumbledore, he gets you out, you go into hiding."

"I... no! You can't! The Dark Lord wants to use big attacks like this, and if it's not me leading them, it will be someone else who won't care about the casualties, only about the strategic value against the Ministry!"

Moody nodded grimly. "I know. I was listening. But that doesn't mean we're going to force you to keep doing this."

Sirius shook his head. "No. I have to, or the next time it will be worse, and that will still be my fault."

"Kid-"

"Don't tell me you, I mean the real Moody, wouldn't feel the same way in my shoes."

Portrait Moody sighed. "I won't." Sirius sagged in relief. "Next time, tell me the day you start developing your plan. Take notes during your strategy meetings with your underlings and show them to me at night in your room. I'll have myself and Dumbledore go over it."

"And the squib. She was with the Order, wasn't she?"

"She was, and yes, good idea."

Sirius nodded and leaned back against the brick wall. He took some deep breaths, willing his heartrate to slow. "Good. I can do this."

"Is there a job coming up, or were you just looking for muggle papers to follow up after Tuesday?"

"I needed to know how bad it was," Sirius admitted. "The Prophet's coverage was too vague when it came to the muggle side of things. But I also told Avery to meet me at Malfoy Manor this afternoon to discuss potential targets in case the Dark Lord calls on us sooner rather than later. I don't expect that to happen."

"Not until after your meeting with 'Augustus,' no," Moody agreed.

"Do you know who that is?" Sirius asked.

"We have a guess that we'll be able to confirm when the meeting happens."

"Right." He bit his lip, then sighed. "I'm so sorry," he said again.

"I know, kid. You always will be. You just can't let it show."

Author's note: Unfortunately, Sirius was never very good at considering collateral damage.

Barnabus Cuffe is the Daily Prophet editor-in-chief in the books, so he could well have been a reporter back in the '70s. Estimates of the wizarding population of Britain vary, from around 3000 to 20,000, mostly because JKR is not good at math (she admits this herself) and never bothered to pin down a consistent and logical number. Regardless, even if it only takes a minute or so to *properly and safely* obliviate each muggle, that's still going to be a huge burden on the obliviators, particularly if some of the muggles got out of the area and have to be tracked down. Plus the people manning the "nothing to see here" charms and coming up with misinformation with the muggle government while all this is going on. Lucius probably never did anything bigger because he had the sense to realize he didn't know enough about what he would be getting into to control it, not because it never occurred to him it was possible. Sirius was correct about Lucius: laziness, not incompetence.

The anti-muggle violence that happens in the books in the 90s is very different from what's going on in my story. In the books, the official reason for the spree of muggle killings at the start of the 6th book is Voldemort threatening Fudge to try to get him to step down, as well as demonstrate "I'm back!" In the 1970s, Voldemort was still trying to appeal to some people (like the older generation of Blacks and Malfoys who eventually were disillusioned with him) and terrorize/force others into following him. In the 1990s, he only bothered with terror and coercion with the Imperius.

Early update because I'm now going out of town this weekend. Next update will be next week.