PROLOGUE
Not one of her fellow Acolytes was willing to admit it, but Azkaban had aged them all.
After the breakout, it had taken Vanessa well over a year to get back into fighting shape. After the ravages both time and Dementors had done to her body and mind, she had been ecstatic to finally return to work with a clean bill of health.
Her work was her life, but it had taken her a while to find it and only after she had failed to walk down the other avenues life had presented her with.
Vanessa had been born in the Dominican Republic, but to whom she never found out. Raised in her most formative years by nuns, she had been burdened with an unbearably common last name, Acosta, and was taught to read only so she could learn religious scripture. While she hadn't been particularly happy with her lot back then, she also hadn't desired more out of life.
Not until the Aurors arrived.
Vanessa's first bout of accidental magic- making her wooden horse fly around the girl's dormitory- had been picked up by the Shards and the local Citadel in Santo Domingo was automatically informed. Two Aurors came to collect her from the orphanage without a word to the nuns, only explaining things to her once they'd arrived at the Citadel.
Vanessa had been eight years old then and scared out of her mind.
Eventually, she was told that her practical education would only begin when she was eleven, but she was taught all about the Wizarding World by the Citadel's Matron and was given limited access to their library.
As the Dominican Republic didn't have a magical school of its own, she was trained in the Esoteric Arts by a tutor along with a handful of other orphans and Muggle-borns whose parents were deemed unsuitable. By then, she was eleven and knew that Wizard-born children were trained by their families and covens.
The Aurors had tried to brainwash her of course, making strong attempts to induct her into their endless war, but even as a child, she had seen magic for what it truly was.
The ultimate tool for freedom.
While the nuns had never been particularly kind towards her, Vanessa had resented being taken away from the only home she had ever known. Especially as all memory of her had been wiped from the minds of those who had known her as a child. However, now that she had been trained up herself, she had the same power those Aurors had.
The power to do whatever she damn well pleased.
On the day she turned thirteen, she left the Santo Domingo Citadel and never looked back. The Aurors didn't like it and told her she was free to stay until she turned eighteen, but the law was on her side. With a handful of WOMBATs under her belt, Vanessa was deemed capable of keeping her magic a secret from Muggles, so they were forced to let her go.
In the years that followed, Vanessa travelled the world and found herself consistently outmatched by those who had trained at the premier schools of magic. Bitterly, she realised the Aurors had only given her a limited education, saving the useful spells for those who chose to enlist.
Seeking to rectify this, Vanessa decided to utilise the one form of magic that came most naturally to her: Concealing Spells. She embedded herself into local magical communities, learning everything about everyone to figure out who would be most useful to her. She did it so often that it quickly became second nature. While most of the information she learned was useless to her, she eventually realised that some people may be willing to purchase her knowledge.
And if she was given gold in return for providing said knowledge, who could complain? She always made sure every party walked away happy.
Within the span of a decade, Vanessa became the most powerful information broker in Wizarding Central America.
Which was exactly how she came under His attention.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Summer 1963
The weather had been unbearably hot for weeks now, humid and sticky. But unlike the Muggles that panted and sweated out on the streets of Santo Domingo, the man that had arrived at her offices didn't seem at all bothered.
A key indicator of a wizard.
When Sofia, her right-hand woman, had shown him inside earlier that evening, Vanessa had greeted him like an old friend. He wasn't her most regular customer- he popped in and out of her life at random with sometimes years in between visits- but he was the customer she enjoyed working with the most.
The two sat on the same luxurious sofa, sipping cool drinks as they carelessly chatted away. Their business had already been taken care of- she had given him the last known location of a Guatemalan Spook that had infiltrated his fledgling organisation- and now they were simply catching up while his people dealt with the Auror before he could report back to his superiors.
Or at least they were before he decided to give her life advice.
"Vanessa, why limit yourself so pointlessly?" His Spanish came through without a trace of an accent. "Why stick to what you know? There's a whole world out there that could use your skill."
Vanessa leaned her head back against the back of the chair and laughed. "You are lucky I like you. I wouldn't allow myself to be patronised by just anybody."
He smiled knowingly at her. "I know I can get away with it because I'm your favourite."
She smiled right back at him, not even bothering to deny it. Despite his monstrous features- a side effect of a failed ritual, she presumed- he was still the most alluring individual she had ever met.
Vanessa wasn't naive. She knew he was dangerous, far more dangerous than she, but his presence gave off a darkness she relished. It reminded her of the girl she had been, so eager to break the shackles both the nuns and the Aurors had put on her- the youthful urge to be selfish with her magic, wild and free.
"Alright then," she sighed, pretending to give up even though she was already intrigued. "What exactly do you have in mind?"
He leaned in towards her, red eyes unblinking. "For what's coming, I'll need my information to come from the most reliable of sources."
Vanessa frowned, insulted. "I am reliable."
"Yes," Voldemort agreed, "but you are not everywhere." His smile now had a scheming edge to it. "But you could be."