Lord Voldemort was having a very bad day. And the reason for that, you might ask? Everything! The past few months had been nothing but disappointment for him! And to think the year had started so well...

For a long time he had a hunch Harry Potter might eventually visit Godric's Hollow too see either his parent's grave or the monument built in their honor. It's why he explicitly prohibited his followers from vandalizing any memorials dedicated to the Potters and why the Ministry still maintained them. Voldemort reasoned that their value as lures for Potter and his supporters far outweighed any satisfaction he could potentially gain by destroying them.

And at the end of last year, his hunch finally came true – Harry Potter went to Godric's Hollow and fell right into his trap! And even though the boy and his mudblood ultimately managed to escape alive, Voldemort was confident they would be caught in no time. His greatest concern had always been that Harry Potter was going to hide abroad where he could not find him. And at least until Christmas, Voldemort believed that's what he's been doing as there had been no sign of Potter's presence anywhere since the rumoured break-in at the Ministry and few other odd sightings.

But now he knew for certain the boy was back. He immediately ordered his people to lock down the borders tight and then waited for Potter to make a mistake. Given how sentimental and foolish his enemy was, Voldemort was certain that it would happen in no time. Potter would probably speak his name out loud and trigger the taboo... or something.

But nothing like that happened.

After the night in Godric's Hollow, it's like the boy had disappeared from the face of the Earth. Even his recent magical tests to at least confirm Potter's presence in the country were inconclusive. Either the boy was lying low and under heavy protective enchantments (which would be the smart thing to do and something he came not to expect of Potter) or he somehow managed to escape abroad despite all his precautions. Voldemort really looked forward to torturing and murdering the boy and was very sad he was unable to do so.

So with the long-held fantasy of painfully murdering Potter going unfulfilled for the time being, he instead focused on another passion of his – searching and acquiring the Elder Wand.

Oh, what a disaster that turned out to be! What a gigantic waste of time!

All the clues he had to scour the world for, all the people he had to torture and murder for information... only to discover the wand left in Dumbledore's grave was a fake! He was beyond rage in that moment and only his supreme disgust at the very concept of death prevented him from venting his anger by desecrating the headmaster's corpse. Who else but that crazy old man could find a way to supremely muck up his plans from beyond the grave?!

In hindsight, he should have expected something like that. After all, leaving the real Elder Wand in his grave would have been an incredibly foolish move, even for him. In all likelihood, Dumbledore enchanted the wand so that it would switch with a fake and then teleport to the bottom of the ocean the moment he died. It's what he would have done in his place (not that he would ever be in his place as he was immortal, of course).

Another very disturbing possibility was that Dumbledore gave the Elder Wand to Potter somehow. That idea nearly gave him apoplexy before he thought about it some more and concluded it was unlikely as he clearly saw the boy using his old wand in both instances he encountered him since the headmaster's death. The idea that Harry Potter would possess the ultimate weapon and not use it was something that did not even enter his thoughts.

In any case, here he was, with no Elder Wand to wield, no Harry Potter to murder, and no prospect for either in the immediate future. All Voldemort could do was continue in waging the war. Although it was more like a clean up at this point as Dumbledore's surviving supporters were either imprisoned, on the run, or frightened into cooperating with the new regime. At least some things were going well... until today.

"Crucio!" he hissed once more and watched the pathetic excuse for a man writhing at the foot of the chair which served as his throne. His inner circle and other servants sat and stood around the room, respectively, silently observing his latest fit of rage.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Peter Pettigrew yelled but his screams soon turned silent as the air in his lungs ran out. Voldemort always loved seeing his victim's expression as that happened, when they could no longer scream or take another breath over their muscles spasming. He held Peter under the spell a moment longer before pausing and allowing him to recover. Voldemort didn't want to kill him just yet. Not until the investigation of the prison break was finished to his satisfaction.

He raised his head away from Pettigrew's body when he noticed Lucius Malfoy entering his throne room. The fuck stopped in the middle of the room and fidgeted nervously like the complete coward he was. Voldemort knew the only reason Lucius still followed him was fear. He had no problem with that being a motivation, even the sole motivation, among his servants. When your servants feared you, it made them far less likely to move against you. The disadvantage was that it also made them less capable as they tended to do the bare minimum required of them and nothing else.

"Speak," he hissed, thinking Lucius better have a very good explanation if he wanted to keep his skin this time.

"M-my lord, w- we searched the dungeons and did not locate his wand," Lucius stuttered while glancing briefly in Peter's direction. He cleared his throat before he continued with a blatantly fake confidence, "The prisoners. They must have taken it with them after... after they blasted their way into the sealed up part of the dungeons, my lord."

"A part which was not protected by your wards?" Lord Voldemort asked in silky but cold voice, enjoying how it made Malfoy swallow nervously before he nodded and said, "Yes, my lord."

"AND WHY NOT?!" he stood up and yelled out to the room, blinded with rage at such outrageous incompetence among his followers.

"M-my lord! I didn't even know the room existed!" Lucius protested his innocence.

"A likely story!" Voldemort scoffed and was about to blast him with Cruciatus for daring to lie to his lord. But then he saw there truly was no lie on his feebly protected mind. He barely stayed his hand from punishing him and instead barked out, "Explain! Now!"

"T- the part of the dungeons was sealed up before my father was even born!" Lucius said quickly.

Voldemort blinked at his improbable words, still sensing no lie in his mind. Of course, if Lucius was telling the truth and the hidden room was unknown even to him, the lord Malfoy, then how did the prisoners learn about it?! He eventually lowered his wand (much to Malfoy's relief) after remembering an old piece of trivia. "Your grandfather... wasn't he friends with Garrick Ollivander?" Voldemort quietly asked, recalling some of the memories he saw in the wandmaker's mind during his interrogation. He judged them irrelevant at the time and did not give them a second thought. Perhaps he should have.

Lucius' eyes went wide as his inferior brain finally grasped where his lord was going with this. "Y-yes, my lord! He used to visit here... my father once told me Garrick and grandfather would often taste wine in the dungeons! Do you think that-"

"You are dismissed!" Voldermort barked angrily and watched as Lucius nodded and hastily retreated.

He was in absolutely no mood to explain his reasoning to the frightened fool but the conclusions seemed clear to him – Garrick Ollivander knew about the sealed up room because he used to get piss drunk there with his childhood friend. Being knowledgeable in magical theory, Ollivander also knew the wards would no longer be maintained in that location and used that as a means of escape for himself and the other prisoners.

Voldemort's eyes burned a hole into Lucius' back as the bastard practically ran away from the room. As much as he wanted to torture Lucius for incompetence, the slippery bastard was blameless this time. On a normal day, that would not matter to Voldemort and he would torture him anyway for allowing something like this to happen right under his nose. Sadly, on the day of the breakout he had ordered Lucius away to go and secure additional funding for the war, a matter in which the obnoxious coward achieved a relative success. At the same time, his wife was away too, spending the entire day grooming Draco's future wife, while the boy himself was in Hogwarts.

So there really was no way he could blame this on any of the Malfoys... not without affronting many of his more traditional followers. He would still get away with it if he wanted, of course, but it was not worth the potential hassle. No. In the end, there was only one person who was truly responsible for the entire disaster. The one idiot who tripped because he was afraid of rats (wasn't he a rat himself?!) and in doing so, allowed the prisoners to take his wand. Voldemort's eyes fell on Peter who was just starting to recover from the torture. The rat's lip quivered as he was no doubt about to beg for mercy. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Peter screamed as he blasted him with another cruciatus, not even giving him a chance to speak.

Afterwards, Voldemort sat back down heavily on his throne with a single thought on his mind – he fucking hated the purebloods!

In his youth, he made the fateful decision to join them and their cause. It seemed logical at the time as the purebloods had the most money and power, both of which he needed for his plans. They were also ripe for the taking with the way they blamed those of supposedly lesser origin for their own misfortune and decline. Stoking their bitterness into hatred was a ridiculously easy task! After he managed to exaggerate the issue of mudbloods and muggles into ridiculous proportions, he quickly set himself up as the lord and saviour for all purebloods – the only one who could solve the huge problem which threatened their existence. And then the power was his.

So far, his decision has paid off. Except times like this. To know everything was so monumentally fucked up by the drinking problem of Malfoy's grandfather, a man who died decades ago, simply defied belief. And it wasn't the first time something like that happened. There was always something with purebloods, some forgotten oath or an ancient feud resurfacing after centuries. So much baggage was attached to these people and their countless traditions that he sometimes thought it would drive him insane!

Perhaps he should have made a different decision all those years ago and join the mudbloods instead. Become the champion of the oppressed instead of saviour of the dying breed. Mudbloods had no political power and it would have taken him much longer to build up an organization based on them. But compared to purebloods, they had no baggage. No annoying traditions or complicated family ties which could interfere in his plans or act as a source of divided loyalties. True, it was slightly nauseating to look at mudbloods at first, the signs of their muggle heritage obvious, but he would have been able to curb that in no time and make them fanatically loyal to his cause in the process. A few years in his service and nobody would be able to tell them apart from born and raised wizards and witches.

Alas, Lord Voldemort chose the expedient path and now he was stuck with these incompetent inbreds for servants. What was worse, occasionally he had to actually advance their cause even though he couldn't care less. He had to pretend to passionately hate mudbloods and muggles while in reality he only saw two kinds of people in this world – his servants and his enemies. The former would be allowed to exist and assist him with his immortality while the latter would be exterminated. And it did not matter whether they were mudblood or pureblood, rich or poor, a man or a woman... Lord Voldemort did not discriminate. Once all his enemies were dead, those left alive would form the most equal society in the history, with the concepts like class or purity of blood forgotten and the only purpose of all life being to serve him throughout eternity.

He shook his head, bringing himself out of his fantasy of the bright future and right back to the gloomy present and one of the pressing issue he currently faced – where to put the prisoners now?

He certainly did not want to repeat the recent events by placing them with the Malfoys again. He could send them to Azkaban but there were some prisoners he preferred to keep closer. So where to put them? Only few of his servants possessed suitable facilities similar to the Malfoy manor dungeons and he didn't have time to build new ones. So unless he wanted to send the prisoners to Hogwarts (which he didn't) or start the war with the goblins in order to take their underground vaults (which he wasn't ready for), there weren't many options.

Eventually, he turned to one of the men sitting in the room. "Selwyn," he hissed and watched as the old man stood and bowed. He really was an old man – a member of his original circle – the ones who had joined him because of his promise to advance the cause of purebloods. It was a double-edged sword when it came to loyalty. On one hand, people like Selwyn were unlikely to betray him as long as he pretended to be keeping to his promise, however, it also forced him to make a genuine effort and he hated that.

But what finally made him decide to turn to him were the secure holding facilities he knew were in the man's house, the 'Selwyn vaults' being famous for their impregnability almost as much as the vaults at Gringotts. A year ago, Greengrasses and their manor might have been Voldemort's first pick for the new prison. But with their lord dead, the family was now ruled by an inexperienced schoolgirl. No doubt their entire household was in complete chaos, so it wouldn't be a good idea to send the prisoners there. Eventually, he planned to put them in order, perhaps even marry the girl to one of his followers if she proved to be incompetent on her own. But for now, he had other matters to attend to.

"You will keep the prisoners I send in your vaults from now on," he informed Selwyn and was pleased when the old man nodded immediately in obedience.

"Yes, my lord," Selwyn said before adding slyly, "I will personally explore the plans and structure of the vaults to make sure that no..." he said and paused as he briefly glanced at Pettigrew, "...accidents can happen."

"See that they don't!" Voldemort hissed, annoyed at the remainder. He then suppressed his anger and said, "Do this for your lord and you will be rewarded." And then he sent him away to immediately go make the preparations. With any luck, his people will manage to catch some of the escaped prisoners and then he would need a place to put them. Of course, he wasn't holding his breath.

Voldemort glanced at Pettigrew again and raised his wand. Their eyes met and the rat knew exactly what was about to happen. He desperately shook his head. Voldemort almost whispered the killing curse before he lowered his wand again, much to the rat's relief.

He wasn't granting him mercy, of course. It's just that there was a potential for magical repercussions should he personally murder the person who sacrificed his own flesh to aid in his resurrection – one of the unfortunate disadvantages of the ritual he used and the chief reason he left the rat alive as long as he did despite his limited usefulness. At one point, he hoped to somehow use him against Potter but the boy did not care about Peter either way – not enough to come to kill him and certainly not enough to save him. Voldemort sneered at Pettigrew's pathetic expression of relief, knowing there was a simple way around the problem.

"Bellatrix... go play," he spoke to his most loyal followers with as much gentleness as he could muster while gesturing at Pettigrew.

"Yes, my lord! Thank you, my lord!" the woman said with a toothy smile as she jumped up from her seat and skipped happily towards his throne. Peter had just a second to scream before she froze him and started levitating him out of the room, the rat's expression frozen in a soundless horror. Voldemort watched it happen with a huge grin, knowing the traitor's fate would be positively horrifying at Bellatrix's hands. After all, there was a reason why she was his most loyal servant. Why he even decided to impregnate her with his child!

He was immortal and therefore, had no need for heirs. In his youth, he also performed rituals to permanently remove his sexual desire. Not only was it a huge distraction from his goals but there were simply too many historical examples of powerful wizards being brought down by less powerful but cunning witches. A few of them were about to achieve a true greatness only to be seduced and tricked by some girl into losing everything. Voldemort certainly didn't want that happening to him.

As such, he scowled at the idea of sexual reproduction for a long time. He only relented after realizing that having a child could help him with his next resurrection, after his current body inevitably fails. The ritual he created from scratch to regain his current body was certainly an impressive accomplishment and he already created more replacement bodies just in case. But the process of shackling his soul to what was essentially an artificial golem (albeit built from organic materials) was not without its problems, one of them being that the procedure was truly agonizing for him.

Fortunately, having a child opened up a new possibility for him – he would allow the girl to grow up into adulthood before having dementor suck out her soul and putting her body into stasis. That way, he would eventually be able to use it as the new host for himself!

It's actually something that had been done by horcrux users in the past. An entire line of ancient Egyptian pharaohs was in reality a single dark wizard called Ra who made a horcrux and then went on to repeatedly possess his descendents for more than eight generations. It seemed his rule would last forever but like many wizards, he made a mistake by becoming obsessed with a beautiful witch that he later married. After his wife learned what he had planned for their son, she tricked Ra into revealing the location and identity of his horcrux which she then destroyed.

Voldemort scoffed every time he recalled the story. Not just because of Ra's pathetic self-inflicted end but because all he used his immortality for was to rule a group of primitive muggles living in a single river valley. What an utter waste! Still, the idea behind what he did was a sound one. Using one's own descendents as hosts made the transition more seamless as their bodies were already designed for a soul of similar proportions, so to speak.

Yes, the girl would do fine and it would make Bellatrix immensely happy to know she had produced his future physical shell. He had some brief misgivings about having a female body one day but quickly shrugged them away as inconsequential. Unlike many of his followers, he had no prejudice against women and while his servants would sometimes rape the female captives, he had always tortured and murdered women in the same manner as men. Lord Voldemort was beyond gender and sex. After he would murder everyone else, he planned to eradicate these outdated concepts among his servants too, creating a truly gender blind society, solely dedicated to his needs without any distractions or dissent.

Suddenly there were screams echoing down the corridors of Malfoy manor and he smiled, knowing that Bellatrix started to play. Lord Voldemort wondered what Potter's screams will sound like...


"He actually ordered you to take care of the prisoners?" Daphne asked in disbelief only to watch her grandfather's head nod at her from the fireplace. "That will certainly make things simpler," Daphne said in relief before adding with slight worry, "But also risky. The dark lord could try to plant a spy this way or they could give us away during an interrogation," she said and frowned.

"I was thinking the same. I plan to maintain the illusion of loyalty in front of the prisoners while treating them with as much dignity as possible without arising suspicion," the old man told her.

"Good," Daphne agreed. "And about that..."

"Yes, Daphne... all of them. Even mudbloods," Lord Selwyn confirmed while rolling his eyes. "If the dark lord asks, I will simply say that they are completely beneath me. Not even worth the time I would spend by torturing them," he said in a superior and haughty tone, a perfect imitation of... well, himself.

Daphne smiled at her grandfather's deviousness. "I suppose that should satisfy him for a while. Good luck."

"Same to you. Be careful, my dear," he told her with one last serious look before the green flames turned back to their normal color as her grandfather broke the connection. Afterwards, she just stared into the flames, deep in thought, until she heard a voice behind her. "It's done?"

She startled but smiled when she realized it was Harry. She turned to see him entering her office.

"It is. I can't believe we didn't consider what the dark lord would do to any new prisoners now that we've smashed his little prison," she said unhappily. "We were lucky. He could've just decided to execute everyone on sight from now on!"

"Hey, it's ok... we can't think of everything," Harry insisted but it was a small comfort and was reflected by the weak smile she gave him in response. Daphne knew Harry was right and that they couldn't possibly prepare for every eventuality. But at the same time, they had to. They had to or people were going to die.

"You still think it's a good idea?" she asked after a while, finally noticing how her boyfriend fidgeted nervously and knowing it had nothing to do with what they just talked about.

"Yes... she deserves to know the truth," he replied and Daphne suppressed a biting retort from slipping through her lips. In her opinion, she deserved nothing, except maybe harsh punishment for what she was – an obstinate mudblood bitch who refused to accept her place.

"Then go ahead and tell her. I can't do anything for her anymore. Not unless she chooses to willingly accept my superiority," Daphne informed him.

"And if she refuses?" Harry asked quietly as their eyes met. Daphne could see the deep uncertainty and fear he had of that outcome.

"If she's as smart as she claims, then she won't," Daphne answered tersely before sighing and stepping closer. "In any case, I will accept whatever decision you make. If you want me to just let her go after the war is over, then I will do it," she assured him as she touched his cheek gently.

Personally, Daphne hoped it would not come to that. She mostly agreed with her mother's assessment that Granger was no longer a potent threat but she still worried the awful mudblood girl was going to do something bad once freedom was restored to her. Daphne believed that unless Hermione Granger fully submits to purebloods, it was far safer for everyone if she remained locked up. But if Harry wished her to be released, she would accept it.

Harry thanked her and they shared a brief kiss. "Just remember... you don't owe her anything!" she stressed afterwards.

"That's not really fair. She's saved my life many times," Harry protested.

"And you've saved hers in return!" Daphne shot right back. "You're even. Not to mention all those times her stupidity endangered you or kept you down," she told him loudly before taking a calming breath and saying, "She'll try to turn you against me. You know that, right?" she said, feeling something heavy in her stomach at that possibility.

"Then she'll fail," Harry said as he took hold of her shoulders. "I love you, Daphne," he said resolutely and she looked into his green eyes, the love he declared washing over her like a giant calming wave. "If she's my friend, she will have to accept that you're part of my life now."

She smiled as the heavy feeling went away. "You always know the right thing to say, don't you?" she said and giggled.

"It's a gift," Harry agreed before they kissed again, passionately this time. Afterwards, he just stroked her blonde hair as she laid her head against his shoulder. Eventually, she pushed him away and told him kindly, "Go talk to your friend. I'll wait here," she said and they kissed one last time before she watched Harry leave the room.

Despite Harry's words, Daphne still had a bad feeling about this. She knew the mudblood could be stubborn as a mule. Her only saving grace had been her ignorance – before coming to Greengrass manor, Granger had no idea what she was and what was expected of her. It was the reason why Daphne decided to spare her life. Even discounting her feelings for Harry, she truly felt Granger deserved a chance to show the world she could be more than a dirty disgusting mudblood.

But her saving grace was gone now.

Since her imprisonment, Granger has been provided with an overwhelming evidence of pureblood superiority. She has been taught humility and how to display deference towards her superiors. Her physical magic has also been increased to a level where Daphne no longer felt an urge to smash her into little pieces when in her presence. In short, Hermione Granger has been shown the path towards becoming a proper witch and it was now up to her to walk it. For her part, Daphne was willing to help her every step of the way. Hell, she was even ready to be friends with Granger should the girl finally see the light and kneel before her in submission.

Unfortunately, as her people reported earlier, Granger still refused to accept reality and desperately clung to her delusions of equality! Should she refuse to accept her rightful place even after Harry tells her the full truth, then Daphne seriously doubted there was any hope for her left. The only positive was that Daphne truly believed Harry when he claimed that if it came down to it, he would choose their love over Granger's friendship. Knowing Harry Potter was hers and that there was nothing the mudblood could do about it made her feel both safe and proud.

But she still very much hoped Harry wouldn't have to choose between them.