Tonks had noticed that her back had been feeling less off for the past few days. While it was a relief to have that vague discomfort gone, that also meant that she was… absorbing the genetic material, which came with its own new host of brand new worries.

Okay, technically she hadn't absorbed the genetic material. Bellatrix had explained the process in greater detail later on, and she made it very clear that what her body was doing wasn't technically absorption. It was… something else. Tonks really couldn't be arsed to remember. Frankly, she was just relieved to be done with this phase of the experiment — it was only through dumb luck that she wasn't called in on any covert ops where she'd have to put her shapeshifting to use. She wasn't sure how she'd have explained that she couldn't change her height after doing an experimental surgery performed by her escaped convict aunt.

Tonks yawned and stretched at her desk, trying to shake off the monotony of the day. She reached for the coffee cup at the back but paused at the sight of her arm.

It was green, and textured in weird bumps, which…

She prodded her arm with her other hand, confirming that those were indeed scales. She focused on shifting it back, having to get used to the brand new sensation of turning scales into skin. She'd long mastered everything about changing her body in human form, but this was an added layer to her powers that she'd have to relearn to control.

Once her skin was back to normal, she glanced around, making sure that none of her coworkers noticed before turning her attention back to her work.

Well, at least she'd have some news to give Bellatrix.

Ginny gasped as her senses came back to her and her personality properly asserted itself. It happened every time she was brought out of a memory, but the experience was getting easier and less jarring each time. She took a minute to catch her breath, then asked the question that had been burning in the front of her mind.

"Why the hell did Riddle call Dumbledore 'dad'?"

"That," Tina said with a sigh, "is a long story."

Harry's expression was still as he looked upon the fiery inferno consuming the house of some poncy pureblood family he'd never even bothered to learn the name of. He felt like he should at least learn the names of the people he was condemning to death, but at the same time…

Harry wasn't sure what he'd expected when a family rejected Voldemort's offer, but he didn't expect them to be such arseholes about it. At first they'd laughed at the idea that dismantling the Wizengamot was even possible, as if the country would just vanish without them. Then they'd started going on about how they deserved power because their family had always had it, and "at least they were nice to the muggleborns", and just…

Then they got angry and just started lashing out, yelling that Voldemort was being reckless and silly. They didn't look scared until Voldemort started cutting them down, and even then, they still didn't try to cooperate. They would literally rather die than give up their power, and Harry just… he couldn't understand that.

Voldemort moved beside him. "Doing alright, Harry? I know it can be rough to see, especially in the aftermath once the adrenaline has worn off."

"I just… I don't get it? Like, I can understand why they'd be reluctant to give up power, but they'll really just die over it?"

Voldemort hummed. "It's like… these people have spent so much of their life being told that they have this power for a reason, that they deserve it because of the right of their birth, that they just… can't fathom the idea of not having that power. It gets to the point where it's easier for them to die than it is to accept that possibility."

Harry's mind wandered back to one of his therapy sessions. "It too thoroughly contradicts their worldview, and the brain rejects the idea because it can't cope."

"I've seen it many times before. I've personally wiped out or helped to wipe out numerous families already, and it's extremely consistent. They can't fathom the idea of giving up their power, so they cling onto it even at the expense of their lives. I see it again and again, and I don't have it in me to be surprised by it anymore."

"I still just… can't fathom valuing power so much that I'd die for it."

"I don't feel remorse over killing, but I do find it wasteful. That's what this whole war is, really — a giant waste. A necessary waste, but still a waste."

Harry stood there in silence with Voldemort, watching the flames consume the house as time lost all meaning. He only came back to his senses when he heard the sound of apparition behind him.

"Well, it seems the aurors have finally shown up. We should probably get out of here."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

Voldemort grabbed his hand, and Harry let the ground fall away.

Cornelius was finishing a lovely lunch when Amelia barged into his office, that same stern and sour expression stuck on her face. Cornelius was tempted to tell her to smile, but the last time he had told a woman that she should smile more, he was slapped so hard that his face was bruised for a week. That experience taught him well and good that women are sensitive about smiling.

"Minister," She said joylessly, "it has been over a week and I have yet to receive any guidance on how you want us to respond to the Voldemort situation. I am going to need comprehensive orders soon."

Cornelius shook his head. "Not you too, Amelia! We've been over this — You-know-who is dead, and that's final! It's bad enough that Dumbledore has been spouting this nonsense for months as it is. We don't want the public panicking on us, do we?"

Amelia slammed her hands down on the desk, making one of the forks from his delicious lunch fall on the floor. "People are already panicking, Minister! Voldemort apparated into the middle of Diagon Alley over a week ago and caused mass hysteria until she vanished after making a stop at Gringotts. We're lucky she didn't start killing civilians, and-"

"Amelia," Cornelius said, interrupting this nonsense before it really got going, "Surely you understand how ridiculous this sounds? I mean, I'm not sure that you understand this, but I'm the Minister of Magic, and don't you think that if Voldemort had appeared publicly in a place as populated as Diagon, that I'd know about it?"

"I'm not sure how you haven't." Amelia growled. "It was front page news on that Monday's Daily Prophet-"

He scoffed. "Come now Amelia, everyone knows that you don't read the Monday issues of the Prophet — they're the worst ones! They don't even have the funnies!"

"-and I submitted an urgent after-action report about it immediately after the incident."

"And what time was this, Amelia?" He asked. "No, wait, don't tell me — I bet you delivered it just before tea time, didn't you? Amelia, I never read the urgent reports before tea time! They're always such downers that they make it hard to properly enjoy a good cuppa afterwards. Normally my undersecretary would handle the urgent reports around teatime, but Dolores has really been slacking lately."

"Dolores Umbridge is imprisoned under your decree after she tortured a Hogwarts student."

Cornelius nodded. "That would explain why she's been slacking."

Amelia glared at the pile of reports sitting in the urgent bin. She began rooting through it, making quite the mess, before slapping one of the reports in front of him. "Read it." She said with a glower.

He did his best to glower back at her. "Alright, fine, but if this ruins tea time for me then that's on you!"

Cornelius read the report. Then he read it again. As he finished reading it for the third time, he slapped it down onto his desk and looked at Amelia. "Gadzooks! Amelia, Voldemort's back!"

"As I've been saying. I have no idea how she could, but-"

"Yes, how could she!? Doesn't she know that we were banking on her being dead for good!? Why, thanks to this, I'm going to look like an idiot to everyone!"

Amelia stared at the ceiling and muttered something under her breath before turning back to face him. "Yes, that is clearly the biggest issue here, but we also can't ignore the fact that Voldemort is a violent terrorist insurgent who is likely to kill hundreds of people if we don't act. There have already been a few arson attacks on the manors of a few light families, and while Voldemort hasn't claimed credit, she is almost certainly responsible. Now, I suggest we-"

"Hold that thought, Amelia. Do you know what this means? Dumbledore was right!"

"Yes, I'm aware that-"

"We need to apologise right away, Amelia! He was right! Do you think he'd forgive us if we gave him back the Chief Warlock position? Who's filling that position right now, anyways?"

"That would be one 'Cornelius Fudge', sir." She said with a roll of her eyes.

"Good, then I'll ask him to step down before I go to see Dumbledore. I'm sure he's got something we can use."

"So your plan for handling Voldemort… is to ask Dumbledore for help?"

Cornelius grinned. "A perfect plan if I do say so myself. Now, I need to floo over to Hogwarts right away. The sooner we act, the better!"

"You sat on this report for a week, Minister!"

He sighed. "Now Amelia, playing the blame game won't get us anywhere. Sure, maybe I could have read the report a little sooner, and maybe you could have waited to give the report to me until after tea time, and maybe this whole thing could have been avoided if we all didn't decide that Dumbledore was lying-"

"That was your idea, sir."

"But what's important is that we move past this. I'm going to go ask this Fudge fellow to step down from Chief Warlock so we can beg Dumbledore for help, and I want you to… come up with some other ideas, just in case. I'm sure you're a woman with plenty of ideas, so just come up with some, just in case."

"As you wish… sir."

"Scales? Already!?" Bellatrix said with a level of enthusiasm that made Tonks uncomfortable.

"Uh, yeah, they appeared on my arm at work. I was able to shift them back before anyone noticed, but is that going to keep happening?"

Bellatrix went back to her workbench. "Most likely. The absorption of material has added a new layer of complexity to your metamorphic abilities, so it makes sense that you'd have some struggles while adapting to them. I mean, it's common for metamorph children to manifest their powers unintentionally, especially when startled." She pulled a pen out of her lab coat pocket and began taking notes. "My current working hypothesis is that this difficulty is only likely to flare up because it introduced the ability to shift species traits. Subsequent implantations should be integrated much more easily, since it will just be adding to the already existing layer of transformation, as opposed to creating a whole new layer."

"Wait, subsequent implantations? You want me to do more?"

Bellatrix looked at her as though that was obvious. "You'd want to stop? Why? We're pushing the boundaries of science right now, the boundaries of being human. Why would you not want to keep becoming something more than human?"

Tonks didn't even know how to address this kind of difference of opinion. "Right, so… what else were you thinking of implanting, anyways?"

"I'm still narrowing down the candidates — I can't use creatures whose form is rooted in magic, so things like Phoenixes are out. I also can't use invertebrate creatures since the biology is too incompatible to allow transplants, so acromantula is out as well."

Tonks shuddered. She could do without being a horrifying spider person, thank you very much.

"That said, we might be able to get you a scorpion tail by using a manticore transplant, but I want to run a few more trials before committing to something like that. My current leading candidate, though, is a demiguise. If incorporated properly, it should allow you to render yourself invisible at will, which I'm sure you'd appreciate."

Damn straight Tonks would appreciate that. "Okay, if that's what you're offering, then I'm down. Do you have a plan for it, or…?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "I haven't been able to determine the best choice for transplantation, as none of the parts of their anatomy are a one-to-one match for human physiology, despite their simian physique. Besides, we'd still want to wait another week to make sure you've properly incorporated this material before introducing new ones." She grabbed several instruments and walked back over to Tonks. "Do you think you could shift the skin into scales for me? I'd love to take some readings."

Tonks shrugged. "May as well try to get used to it." She focused heavily on her arm and tried to replicate the feeling she'd had in the office to the best of her memory. Slowly, her skin shifted to a greenish tint, and scales expanded from pinpricks to fully cover the skin. She was even more surprised that it extended to her hand as well, the ends of her fingers ending in claws. "Well that's new…"

"Ooh, very exciting!" Bellatrix squealed. "I'm definitely going to need to take some measurements of that too. I'll definitely want a Mohs reading on those claws before we finish for the night."

What followed was fifteen minutes of poking and prodding, which Tonks did her best to ignore by reading a book with her right hand. After Bellatrix hummed for what must have been the thirtieth time, she plopped down her instruments and clapped.

"Okay, I think I'm done for now! So far, the readings place them as being more durable and resilient than human analogues, but not as tough as that of a Welsh Green."

Tonks stretched and shifted her skin back. "Right, well I'm headed home for now. I'll be back if there are any further changes. Cheers, auntie."

Bellatrix squealed again. "Oh, you actually called me 'auntie'! I knew I could win you over!"

Shit, was Tonks getting too comfortable? She'd known that was a risk of espionage work — that much was covered in auror training — but she hadn't been considering it as an active risk. It was critical that undercover operatives avoid getting attached so they didn't have trouble doing their job when it came time for it, and Tonks needed to keep in mind that she was going to betray the Death Eaters when the time came.

Because that was the right thing to do… right?

Fuck, Tonks really didn't want to think about this shit right now, not when she was in the midst of trying to get her powers back fully under her control. Besides, was there even anything she could do to avoid getting attached that didn't risk blowing her cover? Suddenly spending less time at Malfoy manor would be suspicious, especially after she'd deliberately spent time there to help her feel at-ease. The same held true for not interacting with the oth- with the Death Eaters when she was here, and if Tonks had to give them anything, it was that they were damn good at making a person feel so comfortable that you forgot you were interacting with violent terrorists.

Much as she hated to admit it, she needed advice, but from who? Dumbledore was in the know about everything, but she highly doubted he was familiar with the practical intricacies of espionage. Moody was in the know and acquainted with espionage, but he would chew her out and Tonks really didn't want to deal with that right now. Who else did she trust enough to talk about this? Sirius? Maybe. Lupin? He was decent enough but she didn't really know him. Her mother? Absolutely no chance in hell.

Uuuuuuuuugh. She should just go talk to Moody and get a dressing down about all this, but it would still be leagues better than whatever her mother would have to say on the issue. While he was probably still the best choice, that didn't mean she had to like it.

She sullenly made her way over to the floo room and was about to leave when she saw Barty out of the corner of her eye. Maybe it was still a bad idea, but didn't she deserve to let out some tension beforehand? Gods know she had enough on her plate already, and having claws really did open up some new options in the bedroom.

She strode up to him. "Feeling up for some fun? I have some new ideas I'd like to try out."

He didn't even attempt to hide his giddiness as he jumped up from his seat and made his way to his bedroom, and Tonks had to admit it was a little infectious. She was already feeling much better than she was a few minutes ago.

A small voice in the back of her mind said that this was the exact sort of thing she was supposed to be avoiding, but she elected to ignore it lest it kill the mood.

Something to worry about later.

"So, where are we going?" Harry asked as Voldemort led him down the hall. She'd handed him a large, dark, baggy cloak with some kind of concealment charm on the face and told him to put it on. He'd expected her to tell him why after he did so, but she just left the room and told him to follow. She seemed more closed off than usual, and while Harry wasn't exactly suspicious, he was curious what had her in this state.

"You said you wanted to see the realities of this war, to help you understand the cost? Well, you already accompanied me to see how I deal with the Light families, now you'll get to see how we handle the other side. Please follow my lead and do not speak unless I direct you to do so. Also, try not to be too unnerved if I behave differently, but I always put on an act when dealing with these arseholes."

Harry blinked. "We're going to deal with the other Death Eaters?"

Voldemort shrugged. "I consider the only true Death Eaters to be the inner circle — all those you've already met. We've always preferred to call these ones the 'cannon fodder'. Today I'll be sending a few of them to what we can only hope is an early death."

"Huh." Harry wasn't sure if this would be more or less frustrating than the family they dealt with a few days ago — he could really see it going either way. "How'd you come up with the name 'Death Eaters', anyways?"

"When Abraxas and I were initially formulating our plan, he made it clear that we needed a name for the group we'd be recruiting people to, and that it needed to sound very 'grim and dark', in his words. I suggested Death Eater as a joke, and he said it was perfect and rolled with it."

Well, that did at least explain why the name was a little silly. Between this and the intense public fear around just saying "Voldemort", Harry half expected basically everything he didn't already know about the Death Eaters to be the product of an inside joke or misunderstanding that spiralled out of control.

Voldemort stopped at the door and turned back to face him. "Hood up until I say otherwise. I don't think any of them will be stupid enough to try anything when we reveal who you are, but rest assured that I will defend you if need be, and punish the assailant appropriately."

Harry hadn't even considered that as a possibility before, but he was certainly thinking about it now. Still, he pulled up his hood and followed her into the room, taking the only empty seat, putting him directly next to Voldemort's ridiculous throne.

The entire room had quieted once they'd stepped inside, but once Voldemort took her seat the silence immediately became deafening. Harry resisted the urge to fidget as Voldemort swept her gaze across those assembled at the table, her crimson eyes briefly gaining a sinister glow as she did so.

The tension in the room continued to grow for a bit, and Voldemort seemed content to let it do so before she finally spoke.

"My fellow Death Eaters," She said, malice seeming to drip from her every word, "I am pleased to report to each and every one of you that the time we spent laying low the past eight months has been time well spent. Those whom we recovered from Azkaban are in better health than ever, the Ministry is unprepared, the Order of the Phoenix has been discredited, Dumbledore has been publicly disgraced, and as I'm sure many of you have heard, the boy-who-lived is missing from the halls of Hogwarts. The time to strike is now."

Voldemort seemed content to let those words hang in the air for a moment. Harry could see that several of the assembled… cannon fodder… were dying to ask questions, but none of them were evidently stupid enough to think that Voldemort would let them interrupt her and go unpunished.

"I have orders and objectives for all of you assembled here today, so that we might once again strike fear into the hearts and minds of the mudbloods and blood traitors that hold sway over this country. That said, before we get onto that business, I am sure that many of you are curious about the one detail that has thus far evaded scrutiny — the fate of the boy-who-lived. Both Dumbledore and myself have kept this under wraps until this point, but the time for obfuscation has long since passed."

Was Voldemort actually planning on revealing Harry to these people? He supposed that getting him to "turn traitor" would be a good rallying point to keep them motivated, but given that everyone in this room was so bigoted that they willingly joined up with a violent terrorist movement with the intent of establishing what basically amounted to an ethnostate… Harry really didn't want to interact with any of these people more than necessary. He really hoped Voldemort didn't intend for him to do much speaking, as he didn't think he could hold his tongue if it came to that.

He nearly jumped when he heard Voldemort's voice speaking directly into his mind through the horcrux in his scar. "Harry, would you mind taking off your hood now? Rest assured that no one will try anything unless they want to risk incurring my wrath."

Reluctantly, Harry pulled down his hood and looked around the crowd of assembled blood purists, feeling more on edge than Voldemort had ever made him feel. Their faces showed a number of emotions — surprise, hatred, rage, curiosity, and a few even had a look that he'd best describe as predatory.

"As you can clearly see, Harry Potter himself has defected to our side. I am sure that many of you have doubts about his loyalty, but rest assured that I have had plenty of time to sway him to our side, and that I have taken steps to ensure his loyalty. I'm sure that each and every one of you knows that no act of potential treachery is able to get past me."

One of the death- cannon fodder down the table said something disguised with a cough. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he heard "Snape" mentioned in there.

Faster than he could process what was happening, Voldemort Blinked onto the table near the man and yanked him up by his neck until his feet were dangling in the air. "Snape," She hissed, "was always a calculated risk. Do not assume that his continued presence here was allowed in ignorance of his true loyalties — the man was fed false information for months before he lost all usefulness to us. That counterintelligence was responsible for many of our recent victories, including the turning of young Mister Potter. Insolence of this caliber will not be tolerated. Is. That. Clear?"

"Y-yes, Milady." The man choked out before Voldemort dropped him several feet into his chair.

"Good. See that it does not happen again."

Maybe it was just because Harry had spent several months getting to know Voldemort as anyone other than the menacing Dark Lady that she pretended to be, but Harry thought she was maybe hamming it up a bit too much. He was honestly having trouble keeping his composure as he struggled not to laugh.

"Now, back to actual, important business." Voldemort said, taking a few meaningful strides down the centre of the table before Blinking back into her throne. "The aurors are being pests again, and it seems their numbers need to be culled a bit more. As such, I am asking Mister Flint and the Carrow twins to engage them during a patrol on the eastern edge of Hogsmeade next Wednesday. I trust you to do your own intelligence gathering."

Was that how Voldemort planned on getting them killed? From what Harry had heard, those three weren't exactly suited towards any kind of intelligence.

"What of the Order, Milady?" One of the other hooded figures asked.

"The Order is of no threat to us." Voldemort said as she relaxed and crossed her legs. "Let them come."

The more Ginny explored teenage Voldemort's memories, the easier it got. Doing one was emotionally exhausting at first, but with each passing session, the more she understood what parts of herself were Ginny and which parts of her weren't, and the more she felt like she could keep going. As unpleasant as the memories could be at times, Ginny couldn't deny that it was fascinating getting to actually know and understand someone as menacing as Voldemort. She was a messed up person, but the more she looked through the memories, the better she understood and appreciated exactly how Voldemort became the person that she was.

"Okay, I think that's a good point to conclude our session." Tina said as she packed up her stuff. "Same time next week?"

"Actually, could we keep going?" Ginny asked. "I'm feeling good enough that we can go through a few more memories."

Tina stopped packing and sighed. "Ginny, this is an extremely delicate process that has to be done slowly. If we move too quickly then it could overwhelm aspects of your personality with those of teenage Voldemort, and trust me when I say that is not something anyone wants. This process cannot be done quickly."

"I know, it's just… it's taking so long." It had been weeks and they had only touched on a small fraction of the memories she needed to carefully assimilate. Ginny had done the math on how long it would take at this rate — math had gotten much easier for her as of late — and she'd realised that she'd be at it until well after she graduated. The thought of having to do this every week for years was agonising.

"That's to be expected." Tina said. "The aspect of Voldemort that possessed you was — and still is — older than you. It's difficult enough to safely assimilate foreign memories when there are less of them than there are your own memories. The fact that there are more of them, and by such a large margin, makes the task significantly riskier if not done carefully."

Ginny groaned. "I understand. I don't like it, but I understand."

"Good. I want you to heal properly, even if that means it takes more time." Tina packed up the last of her stuff. "So, I'll see you next week, and we can handle a bit more."

Ginny understood where Tina was coming from, but the more the walk back to the common room stretched on, the more it grated at her. The spectre of Voldemort had already haunted so much of her life, and the thought that she'd have to dedicate so much more time on it grated her the wrong way. It was just so fucking unfair that Ginny was going to spend so many years of her life freeing herself of that woman's influence, and yet Harry fucking Potter had joined her anyways. What had the woman who ruined so many years of her life to deserve his loyalty, anyways?

It was hard to deny just how fucking mad Ginny was at him for this whole fiasco. It didn't take a genius to figure out that her kidnapping was only possible because of his involvement. Ginny knew that, fundamentally, violence against him wouldn't solve all her problems, but she also couldn't deny that she still really wanted to do it.

But Harry was untouchable, ensconced off in Malfoy Manor, if the Order's intelligence was to be believed, and guarded by Voldemort herself. Ginny knew she had no way of getting in, no way of getting close to Harry, and no way of hurting him even if she miraculously managed all that.

Well, unless…

The beginnings of an idea began forming in Ginny's mind. She had permission to use the floo to go to Grimmauld place and spend time with her family after her sessions with Tina, and while she didn't feel like she needed it this week, she had overheard quite a lot while she was there before. She suspected that the Order members were less vigilant when there weren't any students living at headquarters, and she knew that they were trying to get a warrant to actually raid Malfoy Manor — some collaboration with Madame Bones — and that meant that the wards would be down, and Voldemort would be completely occupied. She doubted Harry would be involved in the front lines there, meaning he'd be separated from Voldemort and she couldn't rescue him.

Of course, that left the core issue that Ginny didn't stand a chance against Harry, not since he'd mastered Voldemort's fancy teleportation. Supposedly, Harry had lasted over a minute against Flitwick, a record that no student had ever set before. If even Flitwick struggled to hit Harry, what chance did she stand?

Although…

If the Order was to be believed, then Harry had some mental link to Voldemort, and that's how he had learned that ability in the first place. It didn't take a genius to figure out that whatever was going on with him was the same as whatever was going on with her and the diary, meaning that if Harry could learn from it, did that mean Ginny could do the same? She was pretty sure that Voldemort didn't invent her fancy teleport until she was much older than a teenager, but she'd gathered from Voldemort's memories that she had held her own in Dumbledore's battle against Grindelwald. She had to have some serious combat knowledge locked away in there, and if Ginny could get at even a bit of it, then she'd stand a chance. Sure, Tina had said that she needed to take it slow, but if she was just learning how to fight, then surely it couldn't be that harmful, right?

Of course, she'd need a way to get to Malfoy Manor, and a way of learning exactly when the Order planned their raid, but she had a few ideas for how she could arrange that.

Feeling content with her plan, Ginny stopped her journey to the common room and headed for McGonagall's office so she could use the floo, feeling very grateful for how useful that permission was going to be.

It was time for her to make a few arrangements, then to see just how much of a magical hotshot Voldemort was as a teenager.

The more Hermione tried to look into Augustine Rowan's credentials and background, the more suspicious she became. Too many references given by people just before they died, several forms that had been "misplaced" for some time, an extremely sudden and suspicious "sabbatical" that just so happened to last from Voldemort's defeat until the Azkaban breakout, and the whole thing screamed "fake background". Hermione honestly thought it was silly that no one even seemed to suspect anything, but maybe none of them were looking at it with a set of fresh eyes. Of course, the core problem was that she had no actual evidence, just the general shape of an idea. She still remembered the way that the Order had been so dismissive of all the students, so she certainly didn't plan on going to them unless she had solid enough evidence that she'd be sure they'd listen to her. She did not want a repeat of their first year when McGonagall refused to listen to them about the philosopher's stone, meaning she'd need something tangible.

Sighing, Hermione wrote another letter to be sent out, in the hopes she'd at least turn up some lead that would prove her right.

Ginny had to admit, it was much harder to navigate Voldemort's mess of memories without Tina's help. It had taken her several attempts before she finally stumbled on something combat related, and it wasn't enough to give her a huge boost. Of course, she'd been slowly getting better at digging for the right memories, and in the following days, she slowly began picking up more and more of what she needed. She had to adapt the muscle memory to her proportions instead of Voldemort's, but they weren't that different in height or physique. Now, it was time to see if she got this right. She pulled out her wand and slowly began waving it in front of her.

Tonks marvelled at the green draconic wings stretching out of her back. She hadn't known if she'd be able to do it back when Bellatrix first asked her, but she was surprised how easily it came to her. The wings weren't large enough to sustain flight — Bellatrix had tried to explain something about squares and cubes — but Tonks had been able to manage a downward glide.

Also, to Bellatrix's total delight, the scales had demonstrated themselves to be much tougher and more magically resistant than her usual skin. She had actually managed to take a single stupefy without being knocked out. The second one might have done her in, but even being able to take one put her well ahead of most humans. Tonks would have loved to use this during auror patrols, but that would have meant outing herself as having done some very dubiously legal magical body modification in front of law enforcement.

Fellow law enforcement, she reminded herself. The more time she spent around Voldemort's crew, the harder it was to find herself identifying with the jobs of her coworkers. Tonks didn't think that the Death Eaters were right, but when she was talking with the rest of the inner circle, she couldn't deny that many of them made some very good points about the troublesome role of aurors in society.

"These test results are honestly exceeding my initial expectations." Bellatrix said as she scribbled down some notes on a clipboard before. She put the pen back in the pocket of her lab coat and began rooting through several of the specimen jars she kept on her shelf. "As such, I think we're ready for the next phase of the experiment."

Tonks blinked. "Already? I thought you hadn't figured out the right part yet?"

"I got that solved just earlier today, actually, and I was able to pick up the part before you got here." She held out a jar with a white, crescent-shaped thing. "Behold! The meniscus medialis of the demiguise, which is a perfect anatomical analogue for that of the human meniscus medialis! So, do you want this in your left or right knee?"

Tonks blinked, feeling wholly unprepared for this. "Uh… left, I guess?"

"Perfect!" Bellatrix said, putting on surgical gloves and sterilising them. "You're going to have to be very careful with the joint here, as it will require some extra healing, but hopefully your body will have 'learned' to absorb the material, so the total recovery will be shorter."

Tonks winced as Bellatrix applied anaesthetic to her left knee. "So, you're sure this one is going to work?

"So long as you don't injure it, yes. Like I said, just take it easy on the joint."

That was definitely going to take some good excuses to explain away, but Tonks couldn't really resist the temptation of actual invisibility. "So… you plan on doing any other implantations after this?"

"At least one more, but probably no more than that for now. Three is a good baseline from which we can extrapolate further long-term viability. As you might imagine, we're in extremely unexplored territory right now."

That was hardly surprising given that it would have taken a meeting between both a metamorph and a bioscience-specialised prodigy meeting — the sheer odds of that happening were pretty low, especially with how rare metamorphs were in general.

"I've found a few candidates in manticore biology that might work, but I'll need to do some cross-referencing on them to narrow down the best option."

Tonks sighed and leaned back, trying not to watch the gruesome sight of her aunt getting to work. This was going to be a long day.

It was a bit silly, perhaps, but Harry sometimes found it comforting to watch the Marauders' Map when he found it hard to get to sleep. It was reassuring to see that Ron and Hermione were still okay, and there was a dull monotony in watching the various prefect and teacher patrols that sometimes helped quell racing thoughts. Tina had described it as… well, it was some kind of anxiety thing — something about attention disorders.

He had been watching a chase between Peeves and Filch for the past few minutes, trying to imagine what sorts of barbs Peeves was throwing as he ran Filch ragged. He had just changed the map to show the second floor to follow when something further down caught his attention. It looked like someone had just disappeared in the second floor girls bathroom — Myrtle's bathroom, where the Chamber of Secrets was located.

Harry had noted that the Chamber didn't show up shortly after he'd first gotten the map, so it stood to reason that someone going in there would disappear, but that didn't mean anything, right? He didn't see Myrtle around, so she might have just vanished to another floor, though he didn't see her nearby when he checked…

And besides, there wasn't anyone who could get into the Chamber, right? The entrance required parseltongue, and the only parselmouth who wasn't here in Malfoy Manor was Ginny, and, well…

Harry couldn't exactly imagine Ginny being eager to return to the Chamber, after what had happened in his second year. Why would she want to return?

Shaking his head, Harry went back to the map, brushing the thought off and going back to watching the chase. Whatever he'd seen — or thought he'd seen — didn't matter.

Albus looked down at parchment before him, then back up at Dobby, the newly appointed Hogwarts House Elf Union representative. "And you're saying that the elves of Hogwarts would like to become a part of this 'union'?"

"Yes sir!" Dobby said, his back straight. It lasted only a second before the elf faltered. "If… if that's not too much trouble, that is."

"I don't see why it would be." The requests were hardly unreasonable. Wages could easily be worked into the budget, and vacation time could easily be solved by a slight increase in staff. Giving the elves breaks didn't even change anything — the elves already technically had them, since there were more elves employed than there was work to be done.

"Yes!" Dobby squealed. "Ooh, this is the best thing ever to come from old masters!"

"Old masters?" Albus asked. "You mean the Malfoys?"

"Yes! They pushed their elves too far, and so the elves formed a union to show that they deserved respect!"

Well, that certainly was amusing. Perhaps the elves getting better treatment was a silver lining to this whole affair. Still, it worried him to think what Voldemort must have done to solicit this reaction, as he had no doubt that she was responsible.

"You may go, Dobby." Albus said, leaning back in his chair as the elf disappeared. He took a moment to just bask in the silence, appreciating the calm before the next crisis asserted itself. Alas, that calm lasted for just a few seconds before the floo flared green and Cornelius stumbled out, followed shortly thereafter by Amelia Bones.

"Albus, we have a crisis! You-know-who has returned!"

"As I told you repeatedly for the past half-year, Minister."

"Yes, well…" Cornelius babbled. "I didn't think you were telling the truth back then! Albus, please, we need your help!"

Albus had actually been having a fairly good day up until this point, but the next half hour that followed was filled with the most pathetic grovelling he had ever witnessed. He wasn't the sort to say "I told you so", but he had always found it aggravating when people who'd ignored his warnings came pleading to him after they learned that he was right. Of the myriad of reasons why Albus hated politics, this easily placed near the top of the list.

And on the topic of politics, he also hated how conflicted he felt about Cornelius's proposal — his return to the position of Chief Warlock. It wasn't like he actually wanted the position. Albus had been trying to leave it for years, yet the problem was that there was genuinely no one who wanted the position who wouldn't be disastrous in that role. As much as he wanted to be done with it, he couldn't stomach the thought of the damage that would be enacted should the likes of Lucius Malfoy get the role.

"So please, would you, ah, consider our proposition? Cornelius said, his brow visibly soaked with sweat.

Dammit all, Albus hated that he already knew what his answer would be. "I will of course take back the position, but only until this crisis has passed. I have no interest in keeping the position any longer than necessary."

"Of course, of course." Cornelius said, nodding like he hadn't spent the past several months running a smear campaign about Albus being a "power hungry maniac".

"I'm serious, Minister." He said sternly. "Not having to deal with the petty squabbles of spoiled nobles has been the greatest silver lining of this whole sordid affair. The sooner it is over, the better."

Cornelius nodded, dabbing at his brow with a handkerchief. "Good, and do let me know if, ah, I assume you still have that Order of yours?"

"I suppose that depends on why you're asking."

"Well, it's just… the aurors aren't equipped to handle a threat like this, Albus!"

"Because of cuts enacted by your administration."

"Well, I mean, we weren't at war, then! And it's not like anyone explained to me that training aurors is a process that takes time! Besides, so many of them kept harassing me about this nonsense and that, so it seemed easier just to have less of them."

Amelia looked at the ceiling and silently mouthed something to herself.

"You have my word that I will do my utmost to oppose Voldemort, should she appear." Which is what Albus was already trying to do, but Tonks wasn't yet positioned well enough to give him the same level of intel that Severus had. Unfortunately, that meant playing the cold calculus of how many people to save, as he had to balance saving lives with not blowing the cover of his double agent. As much as many people criticised it, Albus avoided killing people for a reason, and this always ran uncomfortably close to that for his taste.

"Of course, of course…" Cornelius muttered. "Yes, well, I suppose I should thank you for taking the job back, so… thank you. Good luck against… You-know-who. I suppose we should be going, so thank you for your time."

As much as he was glad to be rid of Cornelius, his business for the day isn't entirely over. "Actually, I was hoping to have a word with Madame Bones, alone, if you don't mind."

Cornelius seemed confused, but hurried through the floo, leaving the two of them behind.

"May I ask if you've made any progress?"

Amelia scowled. "Yes, I think I might have. Alastor gave me the readings, and the incident reports of Miss Weasley's kidnapping, and I think there's grounds for a warrant."

"Excellent. And for getting Order members on the scene?"

"I've filed paperwork to register the Order members of your choice as temporary civilian contractors for the duration of the raid — I just need to have an auror squad on scene to accompany you, and it'll all be above board. We're just waiting on the last of the paperwork to go through."

Albus nodded. "Thank you for your help, Amelia. This may not be able to stop Voldemort, but if we're lucky, it will at least slow her down."

"Thank me with results, Albus." She said humourlessly. "If things get much worse, I'll be pulling Susan out of school. I think she'll be safer at the manor, if it comes down to it."

Albus was skeptical of that, but it wasn't like he had any means to stop her. "Let's hope it doesn't, then."

Tina blinked in genuine surprise. "The Chamber of Secrets? I'm surprised you were willing to go there."

Ginny shrugged. "So was I, but I wanted to know. I mean, it's not like I have any memories of the place from when I was possessed. The only traumatic experience I had in there was waking up and seeing Harry dying above me, but…" She trailed off. "That doesn't really bother me as much these days."

Tina hummed and wrote down some notes. It was clear that Ginny had redirected a lot of her anger towards Harry, but Ginny had shied away from addressing this issue every time it was brought up. Tina was content to let the issue lie for now, but only because of the sheer quantity of memories that they still needed to work through. They would definitely need to definitively address the issue within the next month.

"And you didn't have any issues needing to use parseltongue to get in there?"

Ginny shrugged again. "'S not like I can get rid of it."

"I suppose that's one way of dealing with it." Tina said as she wrote down a few more notes. "Did you do anything while you were down there, or did you just want to confront those memories."

"I did a little spellwork." Ginny said dismissively. "Nothing too fancy."

Seeing that Ginny had no intent to continue, Tina decided to move on. "Are you feeling ready to go through a few more memories?"

Ginny nodded, seemingly excited with the prospect, which was… odd.

"Are you looking forward to this, Ginny?"

Her eyes widened, as if she was surprised that Tina had so easily guessed what she was thinking. "No! No, I just, well… Voldemort knew a lot of stuff, right? Including, uh, how to fight? I was just hoping I could learn something from this. Maybe focus on memories about some of her combat magic?"

Tina resisted the urge to sigh and mentally moved up how soon they needed to talk about the anger issues being directed at Harry. "If we want to do this as safely as possible, which also means as quickly as possible, then it's best if we just focus on the memories using their natural connections, as they're much easier to assimilate than disconnected memories with useful knowledge."

Ginny huffed, which…

Now that Tina took a closer look, Ginny's body language was just a little off. Not enough to tell unless she looked for it, but once she started seeing it… "Ginny, you haven't been going through memories on your own, have you?"

Her response was an immediate glare. "No, I haven't, even though it would be much faster than what we're doing right now."

Well, if Ginny was lying, then she had a hell of a poker face. "My apologies — shall we move on?"

Ginny nodded, and the session continued.

Ginny scowled as she walked to McGonagall's office. She was hoping that Tina would give her some plausible deniability about knowing magic that only Voldemort would know, but it seemed she'd have to do without it. If nothing else, this vindicated her decision to go through the memories on her own, since Tina was never going to help her with her plan in the first place. Ginny supposed she'd just have to own the consequences if anyone saw what kind of magic she'd be using when she tried to kill Harry Potter.

Tonks was feeling skittish as she walked into the Order meeting. She'd been feeling more and more unease with each passing meeting, and the tension was palpable as she walked in. She took a seat and took in the oppressive silence of the room as everyone filed in. The more time she'd spent with the Death Eaters, the more she felt like she didn't belong in the Order. She reminded herself that some of that was to be expected from undercover work, and tried to ease her nerves. The fact that she'd just had a third implantation surgery from Bellatrix a few days earlier was really not helping matters, as the site still felt slightly itchy as her body went through the final phase of the absorption process.

Her eyes were glued to Dumbledore as he walked in, grateful to have anything else to focus on. He let out a deep sigh before his expression hardened. "I'm sure many of you have heard the rumours, so I think I'll hand this right to Alastor. If you would?"

"What's going on?" Tonks whispered to Sirius, who just shrugged back at her.

"As I'm sure you all know," Moody began, "Shortly after Hogwarts reconvened after winter break, Miss Weasley was kidnapped by Mister Potter, and the Dark Lady's daughter. We were able to assume from the other stolen item that they were trying to do some magic related to the artifact that possessed Miss Weasley three years ago. Using this knowledge, we were able to examine magical signature spikes around the timeframe that was estimated from Miss Weasley's testimony, and found that the only matching signature came from Malfoy Manor."

"Didn't we already know this?" Remus asked. "Tonks had attested to that multiple times."

"Yes, but this time the Minister isn't denying that Voldemort is back, and more importantly, this time we have proof. Proof that isn't coming from an unauthorised undercover operation. As such, we have obtained a warrant and special authorisation from the DMLE to raid Malfoy Manor, lethal force permitted."

Oh shit that's really bad.

Tonks opted to analyse the reason why that was her immediate thought later. "So when's the raid scheduled?" She asked.

"One hour from now. It's not ideal for this to be so sudden, but we can't give Voldemort time to prepare or retreat."

Guess she'd be analysing it now, then!

Fucking hell, Tonks was not ready for this, but she needed to do this now. While Moody began outlining the basics of the battle plan, Tonks tried to split her focus so she could get introspective without missing anything.

So… the Order was about to attack Malfoy Manor, the place they'd be using as headquarters. The Death Eaters were evil, so that was good, right?

Well… not really. As nasty as the Death Eaters could be, Tonks wouldn't describe them as evil. Hell, if Voldemort was to be believed, then her movement was actively leading many of the most bigoted people in their society to their deaths. Sure, she wasn't exactly doing it in the best way, sending them to try to kill aurors, but, well…

Only two aurors had been killed so far, and Tonks knew that both of them were… pretty terrible people, if she was being honest. Hell, at least half the auror department was filled with people who were okay at doing their jobs, but objectively terrible people by any other standard. According to Voldemort, this was actually a deliberate effort done by Fudge over the past several years, as all the "cuts" to the auror department were just a pretense to fire the aurors who opposed the sort of corruption that his administration wanted. As such, the auror department was bogged down in its own form of corruption.

So, the Death Eaters weren't good, but they weren't really evil either — more morally grey than anything else — but the Order was still going to attack them with lethal force. This really didn't sit well with her, and the more she thought about it, the more uneasy she got. In addition to the Death Eaters, Malfoy Manor had several house elves, all of whom had started a national house elf unionisation movement, as well as Harry and Delphini. The thought of the first unionised elves getting caught in the crossfire just felt bad, and while Tonks was certain that no one on either side wanted to hurt Harry, Delphini was another matter entirely. Moody was already discussing the possibility of using her as a hostage, and for all of Voldemort's emotional… issues… she did actually care about her daughter. While it wasn't likely that Voldemort would surrender if they kidnapped Delphini, it would definitely make the whole affair even messier than it was already certain to be.

And that wasn't even considering the risk of Delphini getting hurt, which really sat badly with Tonks. For all her moodiness and quirks, Delphini was just a kid — a surprisingly normal one, given the circumstances. She wasn't even a prodigy! Her only crime was being born to the wrong parents, which felt uncomfortably close to the reasoning of blood purists for her liking.

And then there were all the research notes in the manor, including all the notes Bellatrix had been taking about her experiments on Tonks, complete with blood samples. If those got out, then Tonks herself could get in a lot of trouble, as the laws of magical Britain really didn't look highly on human experimentation, even consensual human experimentation. Hell, she hadn't even mentioned it to any of the Order members, Dumbledore included.

So where did that leave her? Tonks could try to grab the notes while everyone was distracted, but that meant potentially leaving Delphini to the wolves during the battle, and there was certain to be some amount of panic from the surprise attack. The only way Tonks could guarantee enough time to get all the important stuff out of there would be if she went there herself and warned them, but that… Tonks didn't like this, but that didn't mean that she was willing to turn traitor over it, right?

Gods, Tonks wasn't even factoring Barty into this. He was supposed to just be a casual fling, but he was funny and smart and charming and the thought of anything actually bad happening to him after everything he'd been through sent her heart spiralling and dammit dammit dammit!

Tonks was officially the worst undercover agent ever. She couldn't believe that she was actually considering turning traitor over this, over the fact that she'd gotten emotionally attached and engaged in illegal experimentation with a paper trail and gotten kids in the line of fire.

If she did this, she was absolutely going to lose her job with the aurors. She might be able to claim that she was trying to protect her cover so she wouldn't also be ousted from the Order, but the Order didn't exactly pay her rent.

Of course, neither of her aunts were hurting for money, and Bellatrix was actually… kind of nice? Surely she'd be willing to help out over this.

Fucking hell, Tonks was actually going to do this. She was actually going to go and warn Voldemort about the impending attack. She examined the logic that brought her to this point multiple times, but every time she did, she wound up at the same conclusion.

Fucking.

Hell.

People were asking Dumbledore questions, but Tonks couldn't care less. She slumped onto the table and barely restrained herself from groaning.

"You better not be letting your guard down yet, lassie!" Moody shouted. "The battle hasn't even begun!"

Tonks perked up and put on her best smile. "Yeah, just needed a minute. I'm prepared for this." At least, she hoped she was prepared.

She had to be.

Now to find a moment to slip away.

A/N (Tendra): I finally got more writing done! Yay! This chapter, and my writing as a whole, got seriously delayed by my brand new computer abruptly dying for a reason that I have yet to diagnose. The whole thing suddenly became unresponsive while I was in the middle of using it, so… yeah. I have a laptop hooked up to my second monitor as a holdover solution, so I at least had the means to write. Then, of course, there's the additional stress from the everything happening in the world right now, but I found a solution for that too! It's called "gay transgender petplay" and I highly recommend it.

Those of you reading on ao3 may notice that I added a final chapter count to this story, and yes, this does mean that the end is in sight. I have most of the remaining chapters planned, and while it's not exact, I do expect the story to finish with a final length of around 26 chapters. Next up is a Departure from the Diary update.

I didn't set out to write a fic with a running theme of "people struggling to adapt when core assumptions of their worldview are called in question", but the story really did turn out that way, huh? Even stuff like the memory charm affecting Dumbledore can be interpreted as extensions of this theme, which is fun.

This chapter does feature a lot of rambly introspective stuff. Part of that is probably due to the fact that I wrote most of this on insane doses of edibles, but I'm very pleased with the end results. Besides, it's going to be a nice break before the tension starts really building in the next few chapters.

The results of Voldemort's ritual to restore her soul being used as grounds for a raid against her was actually not a part of my original plans, but I came up with the idea while working on the last chapter, and it worked out so well as a transition to the direction that the story needs to go.

Poor Tonks is really not coping well with her new job. She keeps trying to do espionage and getting distracted by the world's most fuckable twink — a twink so fuckable that she actually turned traitor over it.

I am glad that we're getting to this point, though, as it means that most of the focus is going to be shifting back to Harry and Voldemort. I like all the characters I've written, but those two are the most fun.

E/N (Xgenje): Yeah, I had hands on her machine and I have no idea what the issue is. But I am glad the laptop I shipped her is being put to good use.

Hyper excitebikes for finally btw.

E/N (Foadar): Tendra talks a lot about Barty being the most fuckable twink, but what her hypersexual self is ignoring is that Tonks has caught the feels, and isn't that a theme as old as time?

Oh, and Ginny is definitely absorbing more than knowledge from those memories…