Chapter Text
A scant twenty minutes before Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy received the distressing summons from the Dark Lord, a shimmering swan Patronus flew through the dungeon walls at Hogwarts and into the sitting room of Snape's private quarters, an unexpected voice emerging from the ethereal creature had Malfoy shaking his head in disbelief.
"Lucius, I hope this message finds you, your bondmates and Draco doing well," said the bird in Narcissa Black's polished tones, "Formal pleasantries aside, I just had to contact you straight away with my news. I've found my soulmate!" she practically squealed in girlish delight, the silver-blue swan fluffing out its wings to emphasize the undeniable excitement in her words.
After a clearing of her throat, the obviously excited witch continued, "I make no apologies for that completely undignified pronouncement," she said, her non repentant manner making her former husband smile, "Believe me, this development certainly took me by surprise. But I simply had to share my happiness with my oldest, and dearest, friends," there was a brief pause, and the two wizards could almost picture the blonde witch taking a deep breath to calm herself before continuing, "Her name is Helena Winterborne. She was born in London but was raised in the States and she works at MACUSA in their Legal Department. I met her last night when she came by my office to drop off the final permits and other paperwork for the New York store's Grand Opening," there was another slight pause before Narcissa added, "I can't talk for much longer, I have another meeting set to begin in about fifteen minutes. However, I promise to send out a detailed letter later tonight. Anyway, I must go, so many more things to take of before the big day. I'll Floo call this weekend, as well, to help you break this news to Draco. Take care my dears."
With her announcement completed, the Patronus shook out its gleaming feathers once more before slowly fading away.
"Cissa couldn't have timed that any better," drawled Severus, to which Lucius raised an eyebrow in question, "Should anyone dare to raise any objections about your divorce, you now have a ready-made alternative explanation, that the 'out clause' on your marriage contract was fulfilled by Narcissa finding her true mate, no need to mention Hermione or I at all."
"Agreed," smirked Lucius even as he tried to stifle a yawn, the adrenaline rush from the earlier capture of Peter Pettigrew having finally worn off, "Draco will probably have another minor hissy fit over this, though."
"Of that, I have no doubt. But that won't make it any less entertaining," chuckled Severus, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.
'Naturally. I'll bring the popcorn this time."
Voldemort awoke that morning at Lestrange Hall feeling better than he had in ages. Lazily stretching like a cat in a sunbeam, he finally shook off the last dregs of sleep and set about preparing for the day. It would certainly be an eye-opening experience for the Death Eaters that answered his summons later that afternoon, of that he was positive. Perhaps he should take bets with the Lestranges on who would faint, piss themselves or try to hex him over his changed appearance? It definitely would make up for the dearth of entertainment he'd had these past several years.
But all that could wait. First thing on today's agenda was a hearty Full English breakfast, something else he'd missed out on in his prior state of existence.
"Come, Nagini," he cooed at his diminutive familiar, "Let's see if our hosts are awake. If not, I'll let you do the honors."
('Do I look like a Bloody rooster to you?' she hiss-whispered to herself, 'Seriously wishing I had bitten you when I was still venomous, would have saved me a lot of headaches.')
Agent Bartleby had just left Gringott's to head to the Aurory, preparing to file additional charges against Dumbledore on behalf of his client, Harry Potter. Meanwhile, two apprentice Goblin Healers were readying the young wizard for release from their care. As Remus oversaw their progress from a discreet distance, the lead Healer, Bramblemire, turned to Sirius and handed him a sealed Goblin silver container about the size of a small pill box.
"What's this for?" asked Sirius, admiring the craftsmanship of the piece.
"That holds the tiny soul shard we removed from Mr. Potter's scar," replied Bramblemire matter-of-factly, "We didn't discover the ruddy thing until we'd unraveled all the other foreign magics from his core. Do you wish to dispose of it yourselves or shall we take care of that for you as well?"
"It's the WHAT!?" gasped Remus as he hurriedly approached, his werewolf-enhanced hearing having picked up on that distressing bit of information even from his previous position a couple of meters away, his visage paling at the thought of something like that being inside Harry all these years, "Was this You-Know-Who's doing or Dumbledore's?"
"From the magical signature, we determined it to be the former," stated the Healer as calmly as if she were discussing the weather.
Sirius quickly handed the silver coffer back to Bramblemire, "Get rid of it. Now! If you would...please," he tacked on to make up for his rude command.
"Will that thing have any lasting effects on Harry or his magic?" inquired Remus, glancing worriedly over at his happily chattering pup, "Does he require any additional treatment for it?"
"No," said the Healer, handing the pair a modified follow-up plan for her patient, "In fact, it's removal has already greatly improved his overall health. Mr. Potter should now be free of the headaches it was causing. Plus, his vision is nearly perfect now, he won't even need reading glasses as we'd originally thought."
"Did you inform Harry of what you discovered?" softly murmured Sirius, cautiously watching as Harry slowly approached them.
"Again, no," Bramblemire whispered as she discretely tucked the box back into her robe pocket for safekeeping until she could take it to the cursebreakers for proper disposal.
"Good," sighed Sirius, "No sense worrying him over something that's already been addressed. We'll tell him, eventually. But for today, we just want him to enjoy being free from both those wizards influences."
"Not a problem, we completely understand."
Voldemort' earlier good mood was dissolving like a flurry of snowflakes on a warm Summer day. After a nourishing meal, the Dark Lord had begun reading through the back issues of The Daily Prophet that the Lestranges had gathered for him on his orders. He'd wanted to research, to get a better picture of the Wizarding publics' state of mind after the shocking revelations of Dumbledore's misdeeds. It paid to be reasonably prepared when entering politics, after all.
Only, Riddle had gotten far more than he'd bargained for as he skimmed the headlines. Merlin! He'd never have guessed that Molly Weasley, one of Albus' most ardent of Light followers, would be the one to dabble in Dark Magics or that she'd drag her youngest son down with her as a result.
Equally surprising had been the dissolution of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's marriage. ('That would explain why I couldn't gain access to their Manor, the courts would have severely restricted admittance while their assets were being divided. Dammit, this could cost me two of my top advisors for a time, especially, if their separation was contentious.')
Setting aside that particular issue for the moment, Voldemort turned to the next stack of newspapers. It was lucky he was no longer drinking tea as he would surely have choked on the beverage at the next attention-grabbing bylines.
"Snape's married!? And to Potter's Mudblood girlfriend, at that!? How did this happen!" he bellowed, causing the Lestranges to cringe and back away from their irate leader in well-practiced self-defense, knowing the man had a tendency to hex whoever was in close proximity whenever he had, on occasion, lost control of his temper.
Bellatrix was the only one daring (or crazy) enough to answer her Master, "According to the Wizengamot's accounts," she said, carefully plucking another edition from the stack and pointing at the article, "Dumbledore intentionally altered the ritual to protect that Mudblood chit from Molly Weasley and her youngest son," explained Bella, setting a second newspaper in front of the still seething wizard, "It's merely a marriage of convenience but the binding can't be broken, not without killing them both. No great loss, if you ask me. I never trusted that Greasy Dungeon Bat."
"Unfortunately for you, I wasn't asking. Crucio!"
The Dark Mark was still burning painfully as Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy appeared before the gates of Lestrange Hall in answer to the Dark Lord's summons.
"Sweet Mother of Merlin! I forgot how much this Bloody thing hurt," hissed Lucius, shaking his clenched left fist at his side in a futile effort to ease his discomfort.
"I would provide you with a Pain-Numbing Potion but it's best if our Occlumency shields aren't further impaired, the last thing we need is for Him to slip past our defenses and discover our connection to Hermione," growled Severus through clenched teeth.
"Agreed," said Lucius, pressing his wand to the scrolling ivy pattern on the center panel of the wrought iron barrier to seek admittance, "Well, let's get this over with, shall we," stepping beyond the perimeter wards as the metal gateway screaked open in recognition of their magical signatures.
"Indeed. The sooner, the better."
Hermione awoke in a panic, although, she didn't understand why she felt so out of sorts until the fog of disrupted sleep cleared from her brain.
In her haste to sit up in bed, she'd dislodged Faeles from his, somewhat, comfortable position on the pillow next to her head. (Naturally, he informed his familiar that he was not the least bit pleased, giving her a strangely Snape-like grumbling scowl for his disrupted nap. It didn't help matters that the Wampas kit was still recovering from his earlier encounter with Pettigrew and Skeeter. At least those two were no longer a problem for his humans - especially, that horrid rat-like man).
"Sorry about that, Faeles," soothed Hermione, gently repositioning the kit on his chosen spot on the bed, "I promise I'll get Diamond to fetch you some of your favorite treats later to make it up to you."
Well, he certainly wasn't about to complain about that, human guilt often played into his favor in the most delicious of ways. But before she could make good on her word, Hermione startled badly. Her now alert mind realized what had led to her anxiety disturbed rest, she couldn't sense Severus or Lucius through their Tri-Bond.
"Diamond!" she called out in a near shout, the little elf popping in shortly afterwards, "Do you know where Lucius and Severus have gone? Please tell me that they are alright, that no more intruders got into the school."
The tiny house-elf let out a deep sigh, summoned a Calming Draught and made Hermione take the potion, knowing full well that what she was about to tell her young Mistress was not going to help the witch's disposition, "No more threats inside Hogwarts, Mistress Hermione," she assured the witch, "But the Masters are nots here, they's were called to a special meeting outside the castle...by You-Know-Who."
Hermione felt like she forgot how to breath, "What!? How's that possible? When did this happen? Where did they..."
Diamond shushed Hermione before she could continue working herself into a major tizzy despite the tranquilizing elixir flowing through her system, "Masters don't knows, that's why theys left to meets with You-Know-Who, to get answers. Yous can't hear them because theys are Occluding, theys also don't want yous to see that...person through their eyes. Theys hiding you in their minds from Him, too's. Must keeps the Tri-Bond secret."
Hermione shook her head as the tension in her shoulders eased a bit, "Of course they did," she muttered, feeling only marginally calmer, "I don't like it but, I understand why they agreed to answer His call. Can you still get to them, though, should things go pear-shaped, that is?"
Diamond rolled her eyes at the witch, "Naturally, Mistress Hermione. Masters not stupid...well, most the times," she smirked, causing Hermione to snort-laugh at the elf's assessment of the two wizards, "They will summons me or uses Port-Keys they made before goings."
"Now. Backs to bed with you, Mistress," commanded Diamond, knowing the young woman wouldn't truly protest the order, "Yous and Faeles still healings, needs your rest."
"Yes, Mother."
"Cheeky child."
Fred, George and Ginerva Weasley were enjoying a rare lazy morning lounging about within their temporary family quarters at Hogwarts when their bubble of tranquility was burst by an urgent, loud knocking at the door.
"Oi, keep your knickers on," muttered Fred as he approached the doorway, "Or don't," added George, standing behind his brother, his wand readied in case whoever that was wanting in didn't have good intentions, "Especially, if you're Angelina or Alicia...preferably both."
Ginny smacked the Twins arms, "Don't mind them, they have the manners of a couple of mountain trolls," she called out, ignoring the mock-glares from her brothers.
"Would you three just open up and let me in already," pleaded Neville, his voice slightly muffled, "It's Bloody cold out here in the hall."
Reluctantly, the Twins allowed the younger wizard to enter their quarters, quickly noting that their fellow Gryffindor appeared paler than normal and wouldn't look any of them in the eyes, "You alright there, Neville?" asked Fred, walking back to the sitting room and gracelessly plopping himself down on the burgundy colored settee, "You seem a bit out of sorts."
A brilliant shade of pink replaced the previous tint of milk white on Longbottom's face, "It's nothing," he replied just a touch too quickly, causing all three Weasley siblings to grin like a trio of circling sharks, it had to be something truly embarrassing to have Neville blushing like a firstie.
"Time to spill the beans, Neville. You know you want to," Ginny purred into her housemate's left ear, chuckling softly when the wizard turned an even deeper shade of pink, "Ooooo, it must be really juicy gossip if it's got him this flustered."
"F-fine. But don't h-hex me after I t-tell you, alright?" he stammered, moving to take a seat on the wingback chair facing Fred, "You may want to sit down for this," he said, briefly glancing towards George and Ginny.
"Merlin! Such a drama queen," smirked George, promising the younger teen he'd not hex him before popping down onto a cushion next to Fred, "Come on then, let's hear it. What's got your feathers so ruffled?"
Only after the other two also gave their word did Neville blurt out, "I accidently w-walked in on your Dad. And he w-was...ummm...well, you see..."
"I know, don't tell us," said Ginny, rolling her eyes at their discomfited friend, "He was wandering about his quarters in nothing but his boxers, a t-shirt and bunny slippers, she chortled, placing a sympathetic hand on Neville's shoulder to steady the amusingly confused Gryffindor, "I'll admit, that can be a bit of a shock after only ever seeing him in his Ministry robes."
"N-no, it's w-worse than that," Neville squeaked, scrubbing a hand over his now crimson face, "He...he wasn't alone. He...she...they b-both were s-starkers! And...and..."
"Oh!" exclaimed Ginny, dropping her hand back into her lap and clutching it with the other, "Yes. Well. That's certainly a new...development," her own visage taking on a pinkish hue, "I mean, we all knew that he and Madame Pomfrey, I mean Poppy, were good friends before SHE got her claws into him," not wanting to mention their horrid late Mother by name, "And that they were having dinner together last night to catch up. But apparently, she stayed at his place for more than dessert."
The Twins couldn't contain themselves any longer and burst out in a fit of giggles at their sister's attempt to be delicate about their Dad's renewed loved life, "Good on Dad. About time, too," they said together, suggestively wriggling their eyebrows, "Now. Who wants to bet they will be announcing their betrothal before the week's out?"
Headmistress McGonagall sat at the desk in her private office after breakfast looking like something she would have dragged inside in her Animagus form. She, Scrimgeour and Bill Weasley had sat about pouring over the pages of Dumbledore's Horcrux journal for most of last night, discovering within its passages that the wretched wizard had determined that You-Know-Who had created six of those damnable Dark artifacts. Six! (The last soul piece left in Him adding up to the mystical number seven, something else that the former Headmaster touched upon but didn't bother explaining further).
It was of some comfort to read that Dumbledore's research strongly speculated that Basilisk fangs and venom could be utilized to destroy these soul shards and that there was a ready made source for both in The Chamber of Secrets - that this mythical place had been discovered and opened by Harry Potter in his Second Year - and hadn't THAT had been a shock to learn.
However, that still left the matter of six more Horcruxes to be recovered and dealt with before You-Know-Who would finally be left vulnerable, rendered permanently unable to return should his body be obliterated again.
To that end, Scrimgeour and a select team of DMLE Agents were on their way this morning to locate the next artifact in Little Hangleton. According to Albus' notes, it would be hidden amongst the ruins of the Gaunt Family ancestral home. But exactly what it could be, Dumbledore didn't elaborate in his writings except to say that it would be a family heirloom, something of significant personal importance to the despot. Should they be successful in uncovering the mystery item, Scrimgeour and his Aurors were prepared to destroy it using Fiendfyre. Otherwise, they'd have to wait until Mr. Potter returned from his appointment at Gringotts to be asked about The Chamber, any Basilisk fangs or venom would be unavailable for use until he could be asked of its whereabouts and how to open it. Another detail that Dumbledore failed to note in his journal. Infuriating man.
And while the Chief Auror was handling the first Horcrux on the list, Flitwick had volunteered to track down the second Dark artifact supposedly contained within the very walls of Hogwarts - the legendary Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.
"Think of it, Minerva!" Filius almost squeaked, "An item from one of the four Founders. It would go a long way in helping restore the bruised reputation of the school, that is, if I can actually find the Bloody thing and if Snape can devise an alternative method of dispelling the corruption without destroying the Diadem."
"That's a lot of ifs, Filius, but I agree with your sentiments," replied McGonagall, skimming over her itinerary for the day and letting out a heavy sigh, "Now, off with you and your treasure hunt. I've a meeting with Minister Fudge in an hour over the hiring protocols for the new assistants and already I want to hex the man on sight."
"Good luck with that, Minnie," smirked Flitwick, not envying his colleague her task in the least.
"And to you, as well, Filius."
Severus and Lucius stood in middle of the solarium at Lestrange Hall, Occlumency shields firmly in place in an attempt to not flinch at the vastly changed appearance of the returned Dark Lord. Merlin, Morgana and Hecate! Despite the bald head and lack of facial hair, the wizard looked to be the spitting image of a much younger Dumbledore. It was unnerving, to say the least.
Voldemort turned and smiled as the two of them approached, but before either could greet him with the customary kissing of the hem of his black robes, those bright blue eyes began twinkling in full force. That disturbing gesture alone made their blood run cold.
"Lucius, Severus how good of you to answer my summons so quickly," he smirked, "It seems we have much to discuss concerning your...personal lives."