A New Potter - Chapter 5

A stampede of footfalls greeted me as we stepped inside. The approach was interrupted as Tonks tripped over an umbrella stand that wasn't there a moment ago. Shouted slurs from the other room shifted the attention to the uncovered painting.

"Shut up, you damn old bat," Sirius yelled at the painting of his mother.

I leaned into the room just enough to see inside. The haggard wizard draped a thick blanket over the painting. It served to muffle the screaming. After a moment the sound stopped just like a bird cage under a sheet.

"Have you tried to nail the blanket to the wall?" I asked.

"Damned elf keeps taking the out," Sirius muttered. He paused. "HARRY!"

I barely had a moment before he rushed over to hug me. His words were lost to dizziness as he spun me around. Sirius didn't look like he did in the movies. For one, he lacked the unnecessary tattoos. Why would a wrongly imprisoned man get prison tattoos? Who had given them to him? Did he have them before he went in? That had always made no sense to me. The most obvious difference was that he wasn't Gary Oldman. It was still odd to see these characters in the flesh closer to their descriptions in the books rather than how they appeared in the movies. Granted, Gary Oldman had been, no pun intended, too old in my opinion.

"Sirius," I grumbled. "You've got dog breath and you're spinning me."

"I do not have dog breath," Sirius scoffed. He put me down and did a little breath check. "Ok, maybe a little, but it's rude to point that out."

"Apologies," I rolled my eyes. "My etiquette classes were cancelled."

"Harry!" A chorus of voices announced the arrival of the others.

I flashed them a smile as they got closer. Hermione was shorter than I expected. Her hair was still bushy rather than the make-over her movie counterpart had received. She was pretty in a girl next door kind of way. Ron was much taller than I imagined. He was also skinny and kind of lanky. Now that I thought about it, I never checked how tall I was.

Ginny was a nice surprise. She was the textbook definition of a tomboy. The Quidditch Jersey she wore was second hand from one of her brothers, most likely Ron, considering it was Chudley Cannons. They hugged her tight form nicely, making her lithe form quite a joy to the eyes.

My leering didn't get too far before Fred and George popped into being beside me. I shot them a little glare at the noise. Unlike everyone else, they looked quite similar to their movie counterparts. Not exactly, but close.

"Harrykins!" The two said in unison.
"Good to see you, old boy," One said.
"Poor Hedwig has not been happy," the other said.

"Hedwig?" Ron squawked. "You haven't been the one feeding her."

He held up his hands to show numerous little strips of bandages on his fingers.

"Why didn't you heal those with magic?" I asked.

"Magical creatures are imbued with a natural magic unique to each kind," Hermione explained. "That mean any injuries made by them cannot be healed by magic."

"Huh," I grunted.

I had to wonder if that extended to parts of them too. Would the wounds still resist magic if I were to declaw a magical owl? Not Hedwig, I wasn't a monster. It would probably be easy to find some in Knockturn Alley. Likely, I could find something more dangerous than owl claws.

"Stop distracting me," Hermione slapped my shoulder. "Where have you been? I've been… we've been worried sick about you."

"I decided to take a trip to Diagon Alley," I said with a shrug. "Looks like it was the right call considering the news."

"It's horrible what happened to your family," Hermione whispered.

"They weren't my family," I chuckled. "We were related, that didn't make us a family."

"Harry," she scrunched her brow in frustration. "That's not nice to say."

"They weren't nice people," I shrugged.

"Harry, dear," a voice that had to be Molly Weasley filled the hall.

I leaned around the other to see the ginger matron smiling brightly at me and the idea that Molly would be a redheaded MILF was dashed. She wasn't ugly, by any means, she just wasn't sexy. I could tell that she was a looker when she was younger. She would have been perfect if I was into women with breasts the size of watermelons and extra cushion. In terms of fruit, I liked lemons, oranges, and apples. Sometimes, coconuts. I preferred breasts that were closer to a handful than ones the size of my head.

Vague memories of an unpleasant experience catching a large pair of tits on the chin and nearly knocking me out when the woman was on top flashed in my mind. Man, memories from my old life popped up at strange times.

Judging by my reaction to Ginny, I had a thing for tomboys and athletic ladies. Hermione was nice on the eyes too. She had a bit more curves without being chubby.

I gave Molly a warm smile as she pulled me into a hug. She squeezed me in a way that only mothers can and rubbed my back in little circles as she did.

"The meeting is about to start," she said. "You kids should head upstairs."

"Ok," I replied easily.

Harry from the books may have been an angsty teen wrestling with PTSD from seeing a friend die, but I wasn't. This entire world was new to me. Cedric was just a name on a page. Plus, I already knew what the meeting was about. There might be some variance due to me not being there when the Dementors attacked, but not enough to catch my interest. I experienced Harry's memories in a detached sort of way. There were dozens of little moments not covered in the books and movies that made the world feel more alive. Still, there was a distance from them.

I wondered if the memories would ever feel like mine as I headed upstairs.

"Which room?" I asked.

I turned around to see the others still standing at the bottom of the stairs. My easy acceptance of dismissal had thrown them for a loops.

"Come on," I waved for them to head up with me. "Let them conspire in peace. I need to ask Hedwig for forgiveness and catch up with your summers."

"Ok," Hermione said slowly.

They followed me upstairs then led me to the room Hermione and Ginny shared. The bedroom had plenty of space for the two beds that had been placed inside. Only one of them followed the color scheme of black and blacker to match the rest of the house. I don't know if it was the teenage hormones, or the fact that I had recently gotten laid was the reason that I couldn't stop checking out the ladies.

"Where are your glasses?" Ginny asked.

We all stopped at the door as a half-dead house elf ruffled through one of the school trunks.

"Get away from there!" Ron yelled.

"Blood traitor yells at Kreacher," the elf muttered.

"Be nice to him, Ron," Hermione chided. "He doesn't know what's going on."

"He knows," my voice went cold as I stared at the elf. "Kreacher, do you know who I am?"

"Dirty half-blood asks Kreacher a question," the elf mumbled.

"My name is Harry Potter," I said glaring holes into the elf. "Vanquisher of Voldemort. The Boy Who Lived. I've beaten him before; I'll do it again. Most importantly, I'm the one who can do what you can't."

"Harry, what are you talking about?" Ron asked as he stared between me and the elf.

Kreacher froze at my words.

"Bring me the locket," I ordered. "I've already destroyed two of them."

"Two?" Kreacher gasped. "Dirty half-blood says two."

The elf disappeared with a pop. He reappeared a moment later holding a locket. It was bigger than I had expected. The ugly thing wouldn't have looked out of place in a 1990s rapper's wardrobe. A wicked aura emanated from it. Whispers tempted me to put it on.

"Everyone step back," I ordered.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"Something horrible," I answered. "Everyone, step back, or be stunned."

"You can't use magic," Hermione squeaked.

"Watch me," I replied. §Open.§

The locket opened and the aura increased in strength. I pictured the basilisk fang in my mind. A quick switching charm summoned the tooth once the details clicked into place. Its arrival was announced by a loud crack similar to when the twins and Kreacher teleported. Yes, I know it's called something else, but that is stupid. Teleportation was teleportation regardless of it was fueled by science or magic.

I grabbed the fang and drove it down into the locket. A thunderous scream rocked the house. Black smoke erupted from the locket. It briefly took the shape of a face before it faded away. I winced as the locket curled into itself like a dead spider. So much for saving a priceless relic. Kreacher wailed and dropped to the floor. He beat his forehead against the floor. I didn't move to stop him.

"That was loud," I muttered.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked.

"What did you do?" Ron asked.

"Harry," Ginny whispered. "What was that?"

"Did it feel familiar?" I asked her.

She nodded.

"The journal," Harry clarified for the others. "This was just like that."

The Order burst into the room with Sirius in the lead. All of them had their wands out. I spun my wand along my fingers before slipping it into my wrist holster. Had I practiced that while I was bored? Yes. Did it look cool? I thought so.

"What in Merlin's dangling sack was that?" Sirius yelled.

"I'll have to remember that one," I laughed.

"Thanks," Sirius replied flatly. "What was that sound?"

"Evil," I said in my best 'dun-dun-dun' voice.

"Harry," Dumbledore moved surprisingly smooth for a man his age. "Do you know what this is?"

"It was Slytherin's locket," I replied evenly. "Now, it's a chunk of metal."

"Harry," Dumbledore chided.

"It's a Horcrux," I turned to look at him, keeping my eyes on a spot in the center of his forehead. "The diary, this locket, and my forehead make three that I've destroyed."

"Your forehead?" Sirius yelled.

Dumbledore studied me. His eyes traced along the nearly invisible scar on my forehead. He seemed to finally notice that I wasn't wearing any glasses either.

"How do you know that word?" Dumbledore asked.

"It started a few days ago when I woke up with a migraine," I replied. "Imagine my reaction when I found some black goo on my face. Didn't need my glasses after that and started to remember things I didn't know before." I paused. "Don't worry. I don't have any sudden urges to start monologuing."

"With your permission," Dumbledore drew his wand.

I recognized it as the Elder Wand. Whatever he was going to do was serious.

"What am I supposed to give you permission to do?" I asked.

"A simple scan," Dumbledore replied. "To check for residual energy and any sort of connection."

I shrugged then stood straight with my arms out for his scan. An intense tingle started in my forehead then spread out through my entire body. A brief flash of surprise and worry played across his face when his search reached my core.

"Care to explain that bit?" I arched an eyebrow at him.

"May Harry and I have a word alone?" Dumbledore asked the others.

They filed out of the room without a word. Sirius did give me a worried look as he left. Still, not a single one argued with Dumbledore. That didn't bode well if it turned out that he was the hidden boss.

"Please sit, Harry," Dumbledore said once the door closed.

He sat on one bed why I took a seat on the other. The man sighed. His previous aura of power faded so that an old man sat across from me rather than the supposed greatest wizard since Merlin.

"We have much to discuss," Dumbledore took a deep breath. "The night you got that scar, Hagrid brought you to me." Dumbledore leaned his elbows onto the bed. "When you arrived, there was a dark aura attached to it. At the time, I knew what it was, but I did not know how to banish the energy without taking your life in the process. It was already feeding on your magic to gain strength. The only thing I could do was buy time until I could find an answer."

"How was that going?" I asked with a bit of edge in my voice.

"Not well," Dumbledore closed his eyes. "A shard of Voldemort's soul imbedded itself into you. I do not believe he had planned to do so that night. Your mother's sacrifice and his already fragile soul latched onto the closest vessel it could. You."

"That explains a lot," I muttered.

"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded. "You were linked."

"What does that have to do with the block on my core?" I asked to steer the conversation to the information I wanted.

"I bound your magic," Dumbledore dropped his eyes in shame. "It was also why I placed you with your aunt. I surrounded the house in blood wards to hide you from his followers. That family is also one of the most magically deficient muggles I have ever met. I hoped that it would slow the corruption."

"You could have told me," I groaned

"I didn't know how much of control the horcrux had," Dumbledore shifted his eyes so he wasn't looking at me. "There was the potential of it trying to save itself. I don't believe it had anything to do with the way they treated you."

"They were horrid people," I chuckled dryly.

"I know," Dumbledore whispered.

"You knew?" I glared at him.

Just because I did not experience the years of abuse didn't mean I was going to excuse it.

"Please," Dumbledore held out his hands in surrender. "It was the only way. If I allowed you to stay at Hogwarts, or with another magical family, the horcrux would have gained power rapidly."

I cocked my head to the side in an unasked question. The old wizard finally looked at me. He had the decency to avoid looking me in the eyes. The potential of getting my mind invaded was a constant worry around other magical folk.

"I could not find a way to remove the horcrux without killing you," Dumbledore's eyes were full of pain. "It was trying to take root in your core. The only way to protect you was to block it."

I sighed. This wasn't what I had expected when talking to Dumbledore.

"There is another matter to discuss," Dumbledore spoke after a moment.

"Of course there is," I leaned back against the wall. "Now what?"

"The phoenix tears in your blood have been consistently healing you," Dumbledore explained. "Did you notice an increase in encounters with Voldemort afterward?"

I thought for a moment. A slide-show of memories played along the back of my mind. The encounters with Voldemort and his minions had increased exponentially after the event of Chamber of Secrets.

"The tears worked against the bindings," Dumbledore shook his head solemnly. "It allowed the horcrux to gain power and strengthen Voldemort. On a more positive note, I doubt you'll ever be sick again in your life. You also seem to no longer need your glasses. Possibly, any poison would be neutralized as well."

"I'd rather not test that," I rolled my eyes.

"Quite," Dumbledore replied. "Did you get any more information on other Horcruxes?"

"Ravenclaw's diadem, Hufflepuff's cup, the Gaunt family," I paused. "The ring is cursed, don't put it on."

"Six Horcruxes," Dumbledore whispered. "Tom, what did you do?"

"Seven," I said. "He plans on making his snake one as well."

"Do you know where they are?" Dumbledore asked with a slight spark of hope in his voice.

"Tom and his minions?" I asked.

"The Horcruxes," Dumbledore clarified. "It's pointless to go after him until they are destroyed."

"I don't know," I gave a crooked smile. "Spooky smoke-monster Voldemort sounds like an improvement."

"That would mean killing him," Dumbledore chided.

"Some people can't be saved," I countered with a shrug.

"That is a dangerous path to walk, Harry," Dumbledore started to regain some of his previous aura.

"I've done it three times already," I chuckled.

He raised his eyebrows in question.

"As a baby," I counted them off. "Quirrell and the diary." I paused. "No, more like twice. It was my mother who killed him the first time. I just got caught in the blast zone."

"Those were shades of his power," Dumbledore clicked his tongue. "And you shouldn't have to fight."

"Oh, but I do," I mimicked his grave tone. "He's coming after me. I don't have the option to plug my ears and hum. That would just get myself, and many more, killed."

Dumbledore went silent. I waited, giving him the chance to speak.

"Why is he after me?" I asked.

I knew it was due to the prophecy. This was a test.

"He sees your continuing survival as a personal afront," Dumbledore explained. "You being alive undermines his power. At least to the shattered remains of his mind."

I nodded. Well, I got more information out of him than I had expected.

"Thank you, professor," I stood and motioned to the door.

"Harry," Dumbledore stood as well. "Do you know where the other Horcruxes are?"

"I get flashes," I took a deep breath and let it out. "The Gaunt Ring is under some old floorboards. Ravenclaw's diadem is in a rubbish room, or a lost and found. I know the Hufflepuff cup is in a vault."

If he wasn't going to give me information then turnabout was fair play. I wasn't going to put my entire trust in Dumbledore until he did the same. Seeing him as an actual person standing in front of me made it hard not to give him all of the information. He kept his plans close to his chest because he couldn't rely on anyone else. They didn't listen to him, everyone wanted him to solve their problems, and then they blamed him the moment anything went wrong. When I thought about it, Dumbledore was the Harry Potter of the world until I arrived. Well, when Harry was born since I had only just got here.

How many times in the original story did people think they should just have Dumbledore handle things? Why didn't Dumbledore know Quirrell was possessed? Why didn't Dumbledore do something about the basilisk? Why didn't Dumbledore rescue Sirius? Because he was human and not some all-knowing paragon. He held three important positions, each one having its own issues and requirements. Before this summer the magical world probably would have happily given him the position of Minister if he had asked for it.

Did that excuse his actions? No. Did his failures negate his success? Also, no. He had people he could trust, but he treated them like pieces on a board. McGonagall should be Headmistress, which would allow him to focus on other things. If I remembered correctly they had stripped him of his other titles, but that didn't mean he solely focused on Hogwarts.

Dumbledore nodded. We left the room and joined everyone in the kitchen downstairs. I caught a glimpse of Snape, and it made me stumble a step. He looked like a young Alan Rickman ala Robin Hood. The robes he wore, and long hair enforced the image. He sneered at me as I entered the room.

He was the perfect Death Eater to deliver my message to Voldemort. I was not, nor had I ever been a Snape apologist. He was an incel plain and simple. All of his problems were due to someone else, never anything he had done.

The seed of an idea took root in my mind. I scanned the room and found the twins. As subtly as I could, I motioned for them to meet me outside once this impromptu meeting was over. All conversation stopped once Dumbledore and I entered.

Dumbledore launched into an abridged version of our private conversation. He arranged the facts to make all his choices appear commendable. Even knowingly placing me in an abusive household sounded noble the way he framed it. He didn't give me a chance to speak even once. It allowed him to keep a firm hold on the narrative. I had to admit, he was good.

I let my mind roll over an idea once it was clear I wouldn't be allowed to speak. There was no way I could simply ask Snape to deliver a message to Tom. The greasy bastard would go straight to Dumbledore and ruin everything. I had to trick him into unknowingly delivering a message. He was a natural at mental magic so I couldn't use a common compulsion charm.

"The diary in Ginerva's first year was the first Horcrux we encountered," Dumbledore said.

That was a lie. My forehead was the first, but I wasn't going to argue about that. He had just given me a great idea. Connection two diaries to send messages should be easy to make. All I needed to do was get a set and slip one into Snape's pocket. He was sure to report to Voldemort in the next few days.

"Children," Molly spoke up. "You don't need to be here for this."

"Ok," I smiled at her and left without an argument.

My friends followed in a confused shuffle.

"Harry?" Ron started to ask.

I held my finger up to my mouth. He nodded and followed me upstairs to the bedroom the girls shared. I checked the walls to make sure there weren't any paintings in the room. For one, I didn't want any eavesdroppers, and second, it would be creepy to have some dead wizard watching Hermione and Ginny.

"What's up?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore is leaving out some things," I waved my hand dismissively at the door. "From them, and from me."

"Why would Dumbledore do that?" Hermione sounded offended I would think such a thing.

"Because he doesn't trust anyone to do the job but himself," I replied easily. "I can't blame him. Even we've tried to drop our problems on him."

"A basilisk and a possessed teacher were not 'our' problems," Ron snapped.

"What happens every time we ask for help?" I countered.

"It always comes down to us," Hermione whispered.

"Exactly," I winked at her. "Pisses you off, right? Now, add like fifty years of that happening. That has been Dumbledore's life up until now. He's hurting the cause by keeping his cards close to his chest. But it doesn't matter anymore. This is our time."

"You do realize we're just students," One of the twins spoke up.
"Points for the ambition," the other twin said.
"But you've gorked the execution," the first said.

"We're not going to fight the Death Eaters head on," I said. "They might expect everyone to be good little victim, but the shock of someone fighting back wouldn't keep us alive."

"That's reassuring," Ginny muttered.

"Isn't it?" I teased. "You two."

The twins pointed to each other.

"Yes," I chuckled. "I have a project for you."

"Oh?" One twin said.
"Do tell," the other said.

"I need two journals linked to trade messages," I said.

"Harrykins," One twin scoffed.
"You underestimate our skills," the other finished.

"No, this is just the first step," I smiled widely at them. "Can you do it?"

"Give us five minutes," they said in unison.

The twins rushed out of the room whispering to each other. I turned to Hermione.

"Head to the library," I ordered. "Gather everything you can find on Defensive spell work. I don't care how 'dark' the magic is. Be careful when you grab it or get Sirius to get it for you. If he asks, just tell him I told you to do it. Send him to me if he wants to know more."

Hermione gave a single, solid nod and headed out.

"What about me?" Ron asked once our friend was gone.

"I need you and Ginny to run interference," I answered. "Keep anyone not in this room, and the twins, busy. Use that strategic mind of yours to come up with something good."

"And I just an assistant?" Ginny crossed her arms and glared at me.

"No," I scoffed. "You're the other half of the team. Ron has great ideas, but you're the baby girl. You know how to wrap people around your finger."

Ron puffed up at the compliment while Ginny continued to glare at me.

"Don't act like it's not true," I stepped closer and dropped my voice low. "Or you might get spanked."

Her eyes went wide. I could visibly track the blush as her cheeks turned bright red. She squeaked before she practically sprinted out of the room. Ron shot me an odd look as he followed after her. I took a seat on the bed that didn't match the home décor only to find I wasn't alone.

Kreacher stood in the doorway. He stared at me like I was Merlin come again.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Mister Potter, sir," Kreacher bowed his head then stepped into the room. "What be Kreacher's orders?"

"Clean this place up," I ordered. "The condition of this place is a disgrace. You are failing House Black. Show me you still have worth, or I'll bind your magic and bury you in the garden."

The threat made the creepy else smile rather than flinch. He popped away, taking al of the dust in the room with him. Death threats were probably akin to compliments to him. The covers on the bed across from me were replaced with fresh ones that were neatly tucked in. I stood just long enough for the same to be done on the other.

Fred and George returned before I got too bored. They looked around the clean room in wonder.

"House elves," I said with a shrug.

The two shared a look. They had a silent conversation that was fun to watch.

"Guys," I cleared my throat.

"Right," One twin said.
"Here you are," the other held out two journals.
"Linked, as requested," the first said.
"Write in one and it appears in the other," the second said.
"Briefly," the first added. "Don't want to leave behind evidence."

"I would call you gentlemen, but we both know that's a lie," I chuckled.

"You wound us," one twin gasped.

"Now," I handed one journal back to them. "Step two is more of a challenge."

"We await your orders, sir," the two said at the same time.

They had to have practiced.

"I need this to have basic privacy charms," I continued. "On the inside, I need a compulsion to deliver it to a third party."

"Who?" One twin asked.

"Trust me?" I asked my own in reply.

"Yes," one twin said.
"With my life," the other said.

"Voldie," I replied.

They stared at me in shock for a long moment.

"I'm going to trick Snape into taking it to him," an evil smile crossed my face. "Which is why I need it enchanted to sneak attack an accomplished Legilimens. Maybe muddle things up with some confusion, notice-me-not, and a false memory."

"You're sure about this," one twin asked.

I nodded.

The twins shared another silent conversation.

"Timeframe?" One of them asked.

"As soon as possible," I said. "I trust the quality of your work."

The two nodded then left me alone in the room once more. Now I just needed to come up with an excuse to get Snape to look at the diary.

~§~

I slipped downstairs with the enchanted journal in my hands. Snape was still here, judging by the yelling. The potions master stormed out of the kitchen.

"Professor," I called. "Severus, please."

Snape froze. Slowly, he turned to face me.

"What, Potter?" He snarled.

"I found a diary over the summer," I held it up for him to see.

He stared at me with a glare that could freeze the blood in my veins.

"It was my mother's," I added quietly.

That got his attention.

"I was only able to read a couple of pages before I tripped a privacy charm," I took a couple steps closer to him. "She mentioned you. You were her friend. I thought maybe it was a trick that you two knew how to do? Can you get it open?"

Snape tried to keep his face passive as he held his hand out. I gave it to him and watched expectantly. He waved his wand over the cover. The all-too-familiar sneer crossed his face as he recognized the simple privacy charms. He undid them easily and opened the diary without pausing. His face went slack for a moment. Absently, he closed the journal and slid it into a pocket inside his robes. He blinked a couple of times before his eyes regained focus.

"What is it, Potter?" He snarled at me.

"I had a question about the essay you assigned over the summer," I lied easily.

"Ask Granger," Snape snapped as he turned away from me. "We both know she's the one who writes all of your essays."

I glared at his retreating back and clenched my hands into fists to keep myself from saying something. How did this man ever become a professor? Dumbledore was smart enough to find another way to keep a close eye on the bastard.

Snape slammed the door as he left. The noise sparked another burst of screaming from the painting in the other room. Sirius stormed out of the kitchen cursing under his breath. Tonks was the next to leave, only to trip on the umbrella stand that had appeared in front of her.

"Fuck!" She yelled as she pitched toward the floor.

I lunged forward and caught her before she could hit. My hands inadvertently got a good handful of her surprisingly tight ass. We were both blushing as she regained her feet.

"Thanks, Harry," she muttered.

I smiled at her.

"You can let go of my bum now," she stated.

"If I must," I replied with a dramatic sigh.

"That's my boy," Sirius wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

~§~

Severus Snape strode through Malfoy Manor with purpose. He needed to report the Order meeting to Voldemort. The sooner he did it, the better. It took a considerable amount of effort to keep his thoughts protected around the Dark Lord. Defending his secrets would simply attract too much attention. Instead, he had to lead Voldemort away with less important information.

He knocked on the ornate door that led to the large study Voldemort had taken as his throne.

"Come," a cold voice ordered.

A chill ran down his spine at the sound, even after all this time. Severus steeled himself before he stepped inside. Voldemort sat on a throne at the far side of the room. An open expanse stretched out before him with only his gathered Death Eaters as decoration.

Snape vaguely recognized the form of a Death Eater twitching on the floor. The aftereffects of the Crucio were not a pretty thing. He averted his gaze, focusing on the Dark Lord.

"My lord," Severus kneeled.

"Rise, Severus," Voldemort ordered. "Report."

"Dumbledore and his minions are focused on the Dementor attack," Snape said. "The muggle victims were the family in charge of Harry Potter over the summer."

Voldemort's red eyes burned bright. Snape tried to relax the muscles in his body in preparation of the oncoming magical torture.

"Continue," Voldemort waved a hand.

"They think some of ours have infiltrated the Ministry," Snape expertly kept the relief out of his voice. "Dumbledore has also placed a guard on the prophecy room in the Department of Mysteries."

"Crafty old bastard," Voldemort said with a wicked smile that made Snape want to run. "Is that all?"

"Yes, my lord," Severus nodded.

"And what of the item in your pocket?" Voldemort growled.

"My lord?" Severus didn't have to pretend to be confused at his words.

Voldemort raised his hand. The journal ripped Snape's robes as it flew toward the Dark Lord. He stared daggers at the page as words took form.

Hello, Tom. My name is Harry Potter. It's time we talk.