Year 7-21: Prisoner's Dilemma

"Knut for your thoughts, Potter?"

Harry reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the window, mindlessly watching the English countryside roll by. Damian, Dahlia, Daphne and Astoria were watching him, all seated around him in their cramped compartment of the Hogwarts Express.

"Not much to say," Harry shrugged in response to Damian's question. "Trying not to think, mostly."

"He's worried about his friend Luna," Dahlia supplied sympathetically. "I'm sure she's fine, Harry. Her father probably pulled her out of school for fear of backlash about his articles."

"I like Luna," Astoria sighed, yawning and stretching her feet over her older sister's lap. "She doesn't deserve all the bullying she gets. She's a bit odd, but she has a good heart."

"Yes, I do hope she doesn't suffer any backlash on account of her reckless father," Daphne agreed. She lightly pushed Astoria's feet off of her, cradling her stomach protectively – she was starting to develop a small bump now as her and Ron's child grew within her.

"Yeah, I'm sure she'll be fine," Harry muttered vaguely, a pang of guilt settling in his stomach. He had not told anyone but Fleur the truth – that Luna was currently in the basement of Malfoy Manor, possibly being tortured at that very moment. He did not want them to be alarmed, knowing it would do nothing to improve the situation. If anything, it might spur them into taking action themselves, or else urge him to rush into things faster, before he was ready.

Luckily, he now had a window of opportunity to act. Spring Break was upon them, giving him a week away from Hogwarts to plan a rescue attempt. He knew it would be a delicate operation: not only did he intend to free Luna from her shackles, he wanted to take care of the Nagini horcrux while he was at it. If he was able to make it look like an accident, and also finish off Lucius while he was at it, he could turn the tides of the war in a single day. He planned to talk it over with Fleur in the coming days to craft an airtight plan.

That was the other thing weighing on Harry's mind: the kiss. He and Fleur had not spoken since the incident, and he had no idea where they stood now. He had started and stopped writing something to her in the enchanted diary twice, ultimately giving up and leaving it unspoken. What would he even say? That he was sorry? That he wished it hadn't happened? But that wasn't true, and he did not want to lie.

Ultimately, he decided not to bring it up unless she did first. No reason to make things any more awkward than they already were. They had tentative plans to meet the following afternoon at Raven House, and there were far more important things they had to discuss. Whatever had (or hadn't) happened between them could wait until the war was over.

The group separated at Platform 9 , with Daphne and Astoria going home with their mother while Harry, Dahlia and Damian returned to Grimmauld Place with Andromeda. The townhouse was as gloomy and downtrodden as ever – Harry hoped he wouldn't have to spend much more time here than necessary. He would make his necessary appearances while family was around, but hopefully spend most of his time at Raven House planning with Fleur.

James returned home from work shortly after their arrival, followed by Sirius and Amelia; the latter was now in her ninth month of pregnancy and looked fit to burst at any moment. The entire group sat around the dining room table for dinner – a rare moment of togetherness, but one inundated with silence. What even was there to say amidst such dire circumstances?

Sirius, ever the optimist, tried to ignite a conversation anyway. "Feeling ready for your N.E.W.T.'s, Harry?" he asked. "How many are you planning to sit for?"

Zero, would have been Harry's truthful answer, but there was no sense in alarming anybody. "Six," he said instead. "Ancient Runes, History of Magic, Herbology, Potions, Muggle Studies, and Astronomy. That'll put me at nine once you count the three I got last year."

"More than your father or I got," Sirius whistled. "Though Amelia here has you beat – she got ten, didn't you, love? And so did your moth— ah, I mean, Remus."

An awkward silence fell at the accidental mention of Lily. James' face darkened at the reminder of his estranged wife, and Sirius appeared too embarrassed by the slip-up to continue.

"How many N.E.W.T.'s did you get, Andromeda?" Harry asked politely, hoping to steer the conversation out of dangerous waters.

"Seven," Andromeda said stiffly. "I took ten, but I failed three of them. My parents disowned me the month before the exams, so I was a bit...distracted."

Whoops, Harry thought grimly. So much for salvaging the awkward mood. That ended any discussion of exams or Hogwarts history for the rest of the meal.

"Say, Padfoot," said James near the end of the meal, "have you been keeping up with the bookkeeping on our Gringotts transactions?"

"How do you mean?" Sirius frowned, puzzled by the odd question. "I let the goblins handle everything. Nothing should have changed recently."

"That's what I figured," James muttered. "It's just, a couple of goblins from the bank visited my office this morning. They were pretty vague about what they wanted, but it sounded like they were threatening me."

"How odd," Amelia frowned. "What could they possibly stand to gain from threatening the Minister of Magic?"

"I found it peculiar too," said James. "I can't think of anything they would care about enough to risk such a thing."

Harry and Andromeda briefly made eye contact, saying nothing as the conversation turned elsewhere. Harry suspected exactly why the goblins would be threatening James: they still wanted the Sword of Gryffindor. He technically still had two and a half months to come up with it before he was in violation of their contract, but they surely were getting antsy, perhaps suspecting they had been deceived somehow. The last thing he wanted was for Voldemort to become suspicious and look into the matter himself.

After the meal concluded, Harry retreated to the stairwell to get some shut-eye. However, James intercepted him before he could escape. "Just a moment, son," he said. "I'd like a word."

Harry's mind raced as he followed his father into the study to speak privately. Did James somehow suspect Harry to be involved in this Gringotts shakedown? Was he going to ask uncomfortable questions he didn't have easy answers to?

James shut the door behind them and studied Harry for a moment before speaking. "I never got the chance to write you last month," he said. "When the news broke."

Harry's mind raced as he wondered what 'news' James was referring to. Then, it dawned on him: Daphne. "Oh," he muttered. "That's okay, Dad."

"No, it's not," James sighed, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "You're going to be a father soon, and you're probably worried sick, wondering how you're going to provide for your new family. I should have been the first to be there for you, to reassure you that it's going to be alright."

"Er...thanks, Dad," Harry said awkwardly.

"It seems we're both going to be new fathers soon," James chuckled morbidly. "Don't you worry about a thing...we'll get through it together. And don't listen to that 'inheritance' rubbish the Prophet is prattling on about...I would never cut you out of the will."

"Good to know," said Harry. He was supremely uncomfortable, knowing that, in fact, neither of them were going to be fathers anytime soon. Daphne's child was not his, and Andromeda was only pretending to be with child, a ruse that would not last for long.

"If you ever need advice, don't hesitate to owl or Floo call me," said James. "I know we're both busy as of late, but I can always make time to help my son."

"I appreciate that, Dad," said Harry. Then, a thought occurred to him. "Actually, there is something I need your help with."

"Anything," said James, surprised.

Harry reached into his robes and withdrew a small, tattered object. He unfolded it and shook off the dust, causing James to frown in recognition.

"Is that the Sorting Hat?" he asked, confused.

"Yes," said Harry. "I need you to put it on and ask it for something. The Sword of Gryffindor."

James looked from Harry, to the Hat, and back to Harry. Then, he laughed uncomfortably. "Good one," he said. "The Sword hasn't been seen for centuries, Harry; you know that."

"I'm not joking," said Harry, thrusting the Hat into his father's hands. "Only a true Gryffindor can retrieve the Sword. I can't pull it out. But maybe you can."

James eyed Harry strangely, as it dawned on him that his son was not joking. He apparently decided it was easier to humor him than continue the argument, so he huffed and slipped the ancient Hat over his head, his eyes disappearing beneath the brim. Harry waited with bated breath, praying that it might be so simple after all.

But as expected, he was met with disappointment, as James pulled off the Hat with a chuckle. "Not sure what that was about," he said, "but it wouldn't do anything for me. Now, do I have to ask where you got this, or should I give the Headmaster a call and see wh—"

James froze as he realized that Harry had his wand trained on him. "I need that Sword," Harry said adamantly. "Try again."

"I don't know what kind of practical joke this is, Harry, but it's not funny," James said sternly. "Now, I have a lot to do tonight—oi!"

James tried to brush past Harry to the door, but Harry flicked his wand to summon a tight cord, wrapping itself around James' wrist and tethering him to the corner. James tried to draw his wand to free himself, but with another flick of Harry's wrist, it was wrenched from his grip, clattering away across the room.

"Try again," Harry repeated, indicating the Hat still in James' hand.

"You're beginning to really anger me, Harry," James growled, fighting to free himself. "If you do not release me in the next ten seconds, we're going to need to have a firm talk about your—what in Merlin's name?!"

James flinched and retreated into the corner as a massive serpent, summoned from Harry's wand, unfurled itself and rose to challenge him. The snake eyed James dangerously, as if sensing whether he was a threat.

"Your only chance of escape is in that Hat," Harry warned his father. "Retrieve the Sword and free yourself, or the snake will attack. And I don't know how venomous it is."

James eyed his son murderously, but Harry did not flinch, wand still trained on his father. Reluctantly, James pulled the Hat back over his eyes, as the snake hissed menacingly at every slight movement.

"It won't listen to me!" James said, voice beginning to panic as he shrank in a futile escape to avoid the snake's notice. "Let me go right this instant!"

"The Sword is your only salvation!" Harry bellowed. "Tell the Hat that if you don't retrieve it, you will die!"

Sweat beaded on James' face as he continued to silently plead with the Sorting Hat for salvation. Harry's heart pounded, praying that the Hat would finally listen and see James' need for the weapon. The snake continued to sway, eyes locked on target, watching for an opening to strike. Come on, Harry silently begged the Hat. Give it up, you bastard.

Time ran out. The snake lunged, fangs bared to sink into James' torso. Harry groaned and snapped his wrist; with a puff of smoke, the snake Vanished before it could connect. So too did the cord binding James in place; he stumbled forward, the Sorting Hat tumbling to the floor.

"Explain yourself!" James roared at his son, purple in the face with rage.

"I'm sorry about this, Dad," said Harry grimly before pointing his wand between his father's eyes. "Obliviate."

James' irate expression was replaced by one of bewilderment, eyes sliding out of focus as the last few minutes were wiped from his memory. When he snapped back to attention, his eyes landed back on his son, looking perplexed.

"Er...Harry?" he said slowly. "What are we doing in here?"

"You tell me," Harry shrugged. "You asked me to come in here and help you find something. What was it?"

"I...don't remember," James muttered, scanning the room around him as if trying to recall what it was he had supposedly lost.

"Your wand is in the corner over there," said Harry, pointing out the thin stick of wood on the ground. "Was that it?"

"Oh," James frowned, bending over to pick it up. "I suppose it must've been. Thank you, son."

"No problem," said Harry. And he retreated up to his bedroom, shutting himself in for the night. He was frustrated that the ploy had not worked...surely he had manufactured the proper need for the Sword, hadn't he? He pulled the Sorting Hat back out from his robes, wondering why it continued to defy his will.

Irritated, he shoved the Hat onto his own head to confront it. What's your problem? Harry demanded without waiting for a greeting. Why won't you give us the Sword of Gryffindor?

The Sword can only be summoned by a worthy Gryffindor in a moment of genuine need, the Hat said simply.

Yeah, no shit, Harry grumbled. You've told me that half a dozen times before. Why didn't this time count?

The Sorting Hat did not respond to his request straight away. I do not fully understand the intentions of my creator, it explained. However, I did not sense that the need was great enough.

Why the hell not? Harry demanded. What part about being trapped with a deadly viper threatening to bite you doesn't count as 'genuine need'?

Magic is about intent, as you well know, the Hat said patiently. I suspect that you did not truly intend to harm your father, did you? Therefore, the magic binding me to the Sword was not activated.

Harry considered this in silence for a moment. So in order for it to work...I have to really WANT to hurt my father? he asked.

Perhaps.

After a prolonged silence, Harry realized he wasn't going to get any straight answers from the Hat. He took it off and tossed it across the room in disgust. How the hell was he supposed to get the Sword now? The Hat was right: he never would have let the snake actually bite his father. Would he have to genuinely leave one of his loved ones in a perilous situation with no intention of rescuing them? He didn't think he could stomach the thought of endangering them like that.

The next day was a Monday, and all the adults left for work early. Harry wasn't due to meet with Fleur until the afternoon, as she had an early-morning shift at Gringotts, but he was too restless to sit still. He gathered his things after breakfast and prepared to make his escape, but he was intercepted on the stairs.

"Going somewhere without us?" Dahlia demanded. Harry turned to see his sister and cousin both eyeing him suspiciously.

"Got some things to do at the safe house," he sighed. "You two should stay put, and I'll be back in—"

"What, so you're allowed to leave this hellhole and we're not?" Damian scoffed. "Come off it, Potter...take us with you!"

Harry groaned...he hadn't planned on babysitting today. But that was technically his job for the day while the adults were away, so there was no point in arguing. "Fine," he said, beckoning them both forth. The two teens excitedly bounded to his side, linking arms with Harry as he Apparated them away to Raven House.

But Harry would not let them remain idle at his sanctuary...he intended to put them through their paces. He conjured target dummies in the front yard, instructing the two to incapacitate them from various positions. Damian was an eager student, throwing himself into each drill and proving his unique blend of close-quarters magic and Muggle street fighting was effective. Dahlia was more tentative, preferring to keep her distance and avoid conflict when possible.

"That won't do, sis," Harry chastised her after she fired a weak chain of Stunners at the target dummy he'd set up across the yard. "A competent fighter will close the distance between you and take you out. If you want to fight from afar, you need a more threatening arsenal of spells to keep them away."

Dahlia grunted angrily at this instruction. She muttered an incantation Harry did not recognize, firing a crackling orange bolt of light at the dummy. It ruptured violently on impact, spewing splinters of wood and leather everywhere, as Harry and Damian watched on in stunned silence.

"Bloody hell," Damian whistled appreciatively. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"From Madam Pomfrey," Dahlia panted, surprising both Harry and Damian. "When you spend years studying how to put people back together, you realize how easy it is to break them apart." Neither Harry or Damian criticized Dahlia's spell vocabulary again after that incident.

Both teens' Apparation practice was starting to pay off as well. Dahlia had finally managed her first successful journey across the yard without Splinching herself, though she needed a break afterward to avoid magical exhaustion. Damian also managed to Apparate twice, though his accuracy was lacking; the first time he landed on the roof of the house, while the second time he reappeared a hundred feet in the air, forcing Harry to use Arresto momentum to prevent him from crashing back to earth.

"Keep it up," he encouraged both of them as they lay flat on their backs in the grass, panting from exertion. "It might seem hard now, but you'll thank me if you find yourselves in danger in the near future."

"You say that like you expect something to go wrong," Damian pointed out. "Plotting some kind of rebellion, Potter?"

That's exactly what I'm doing, Harry thought grimly. But he didn't want to alarm them with that news just yet. "Things aren't going to remain peaceful forever," Harry warned them vaguely. "You'll have to be ready to fight at a moment's notice, in case things go wrong. This war is not yet over, and we'll be on the front lines when it all goes to hell again."

"Well said," a new voice rang out; Fleur had appeared down the lane, having Apparated home from work. "Of course, 'Arry always expects things to go wrong at a moment's notice."

"Hasn't steered me wrong so far," Harry grumbled, though he knew Fleur was just lightening the mood for the sake of the others.

The group migrated up the porch steps and into the living room. Harry was glad for the presence of his sister and cousin now, lessening much of the awkwardness of the reunion with Fleur. However, that feeling was short-lived.

"Well, I'm going to check on my brews upstairs," said Dahlia, heading for the potions lab. "Coming, Damian?"

"Absolutely," Damian grinned. "Don't wanna stick around for when these two start snogging."

And the two teens disappeared up the steps, snickering at their little in-joke. Harry knew they were only teasing, but it succeeded in filling the room with tension once more as he and Fleur found themselves alone, just feet from where their charged kiss had occurred. Harry's mind raced for something intelligent to say to break the ice.

"Did you 'ave any success with that?" asked Fleur.

"What?" said Harry. "Oh...not really." She was gesturing towards the Sorting Hat, now lying in a heap atop an armchair in the corner, where Harry had frustratedly tossed it an hour prior. He flicked his wand to return it to its hiding place in a cupboard, then explained what had happened with James the day before. Fleur listened intently, frowning at the result.

"Well, that is not good," she muttered. "It sounds as if a Gryffindor must truly be in danger for ze Hat to produce it."

"Yeah, that's the sense I got as well," Harry sighed. "And the goblins have already started to harass my father at the Ministry...I fear their patience won't last for the full ninety-day period until our contract is up."

"We still have time," Fleur reassured him. "I will think on the matter. For now, we still 'ave other things to worry about, no? Such as your friend Luna."

"Right," Harry nodded. He appreciated Fleur's no-nonsense approach, preferring to get straight to business without wallowing in angst or fear. The tension between them evaporated at once as they delved into their discussion surrounding Malfoy Manor.

Harry told her what he had discovered from his reconnaissance mission earlier in the month. "Sounds like ze snake 'as quite the long leash, so to speak," Fleur hummed thoughtfully.

"It presents a problem for a couple of reasons," Harry pointed out. "For one, she'll be harder to find, and for another, she could be lurking anywhere nearby when it comes time to infiltrate the grounds."

Fleur pondered this for a moment. "I would not be concerned about that too much," she reasoned. "Snakes only need to hunt once every week or two, no? She will probably spend most of her time sleeping somewhere warm. And if you do 'appen to go during a hunting day, she could be a mile away, hunting livestock far from ze Manor."

Harry saw the logic in that. "Still going to make it harder to kill her," he pointed out. "And it has to look like an accident, or else Voldemort will suspect someone is hunting his horcruxes."

"How would it look like an accident?" Fleur frowned. "A snake that size does not 'ave any natural predators."

"Actually, that may not be true," Harry chuckled. And he described his encounter with a Muggle farmer, who had mentioned a hunting party going into the woods in search of the snake weeks prior. It might be possible to stage things so that it appeared the local Muggles had successfully overcome the great snake, possibly by spearing it with a physical weapon or making it look like a shotgun wound.

"That could work," Fleur said uncertainly. "But could a group of Muggles truly kill a magical snake like that? Doesn't it 'ave warded scales?"

"Against spells," Harry pointed out. "Not physical weapons per se." It was a discovery he'd made while testing out Fred and George's Shield apparel years ago in the Room of Requirement. Magical enchantments were great at repelling magical forms of attack, but non-magical methods ignored such protections. Harry learned that the hard way when his Shield undershirt had blocked a Blasting Curse from a training dummy, while a simple shard of wooden shrapnel had pierced straight through to his forearm, forcing a visit to the Hospital Wing.

"Perhaps we can split up and do two things at once?" Fleur suggested. "You enter ze Manor to rescue Luna, and I search ze grounds for Nagini?"

"Don't you hate snakes?" Harry asked.

Fleur hesitated, trying (and failing) to mask the fear and disgust in her expression. "Yes," she admitted. "But I will do what I must."

"I don't think it's wise anyway," said Harry. "What if something goes wrong for one or the other of us? That would endanger the other person unnecessarily. It should be a one-man operation, so we don't have to coordinate or worry about the other person. Besides, I have a stronger sense for Voldemort's horcrux magic, so I should be able to find the snake faster."

"If you think it best," Fleur sighed, though she looked relieved at no longer having to hunt the snake. "Do you intend to hunt ze snake first, or enter the Manor?"

Harry pondered this – it was a question he'd considered himself. "Probably the Manor first," he said. "I can get in quickly and deal with Lucius before getting Luna to safety. Then, assuming that all goes to plan, I'll have plenty of time to search the grounds for Nagini."

"Have you examined ze ward structure surrounding the Manor?" asked Fleur.

"Not yet," said Harry. "Lucius mentioned he was updating the wards after the Crouch incident. I wanted to wait until I had a trained Gringotts curse-breaker with me to assess the situation."

Fleur beamed at this. They both knew that Harry could shred through any wards necessary with the Elder Wand, but she appreciated the gesture. He knew Fleur would feel far more comfortable with his mission if he involved her in the process – plus, having an extra set of eyes could never hurt, in case he missed something. They decided to begin their surveillance the following evening.

Harry and Fleur spent the next hour lounging on the sofa, catching up on the past month they'd spent apart. Fleur excitedly recounted her trip to France, visiting her family and helping her father with the recruitment effort. Harry was enthralled to hear about the progress Sebastian Delacour was making, using his networking prowess to smuggle hundreds of fighters into the country without the French Ministry's knowledge. He was also warmed to hear about the more mundane details of Fleur's visit, such as her time with Gabrielle, who was on break from her first term at Beauxbatons, talking her older sister's ear off about how wondrous she found the school.

There was a lull in the conversation as they both reminisced on their shared time at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. It reminded Harry of another burning question he'd been meaning to ask. "You never told me what happened with Viktor Krum," he said. "Was your talk productive?"

Fleur froze at the mention of Krum, eyeing Harry carefully. "I...cannot tell you," she said evasively.

"What?" Harry frowned. "Why not?"

"I do not wish for you to think I am hiding things from you," Fleur said quickly. "You know I trust you completely. But Krum is still unsure. I gave 'im my word that I would not tell you everything we discussed. 'E worries about certain things leaking to people that could blow up all of his plans."

Harry's knee-jerk reaction was to get angry, to insist that he be told everything. But he stifled the urge and considered the matter thoughtfully. Krum hadn't seen or heard from Harry since the Bulgarian fighting ring incident, and since then, Harry had attacked a group of Aurors, killed Albus Dumbledore, and become a Death Eater. It was hard to blame the man for being wary about his allegiance, and not openly trusting someone so close to Voldemort.

"I get it," Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "But things will be so much easier if we can all coordinate together."

"I agree," Fleur nodded. "And I 'ave told him the same. He is open to believing you, but 'e needs time to think about it. Do you trust me?"

"With my life," Harry said resolutely. "If you think it best, I'll let you handle things with Krum for now."

"Thank you," said Fleur, squeezing his arm reassuringly. They were seated quite close on the couch now, and Harry was again reminded of the charged moment between them the week prior. Should he bring up the moment now? Should he clear the air? Did it even need to be cleared?

But as soon as the thought entered his mind, it was dispelled as Dahlia and Damian came bounding down the steps again. "I'm starving," Damian complained. "Do you keep any food in this godforsaken shack?"

"We should get back soon anyway," said Dahlia, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Dad and the others will be home from work soon."

"Right," said Harry, standing from the couch. "I'll be back tomorrow night to discuss...things." Fleur nodded in agreement, as Dahlia and Damian made exaggerated smooching noises, laughing raucously at Harry's expense as he guided them out the front door to Apparate back to Grimmauld Place.

Still, his mood was significantly lighter than it was a week prior. His initial panic at Luna's plight had passed, and he felt reassured that they were putting a plan in action to rescue her. Fleur never failed to set his mind at ease and help him think logically about such matters, rather than jump head-first into an emotional reaction as he too often did.

The following evening, he managed to sneak off after dinner and return to Raven House to meet Fleur. They Apparated to the same quiet country lane near Malfoy Manor, assessing the landscape as the moon silently rose overhead.

"Shall we enter from ze back, through the woods?" Fleur suggested, indicating the thick treeline to the north.

"Er...won't it be difficult to see if Nagini is lurking nearby?" Harry worried.

"Snakes are warm-blooded, 'Arry," Fleur pointed out. "She will not be out in ze cold this late – she will likely be inside ze Manor."

"Right," Harry nodded. His perception of snakes was largely dictated by the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets...he suddenly felt a pang of guilt for the poor creature, forced to spend centuries in such damp and cold conditions. He and Fleur vaulted a low fence and snuck off toward the treeline.

They crept forward through the trees, keeping their senses open for any sign of danger. Aside from a mild Repulsion Charm designed to keep the Muggles away, Harry could not feel anything particularly perilous in their path. He still feared some sort of nefarious trap awaiting them – be it Nagini herself or some form of non-magical ensnarement awaiting them in the woods. But this was Lucius Malfoy, after all...he wouldn't be able to set up a basic Muggle bear trap to save his life.

Finally, Harry felt it: a wall of powerful magic standing in their way, roughly a hundred yards away from the Manor. "It's here," he warned Fleur, stopping her before she walked face-first into the ward field. Fleur drew her wand and waved it in the air; she exhaled sharply as she too sensed the enchantments for the first time.

"This is complex work," she muttered thoughtfully as she began diagnosing the ward schema. "I sense a mixture of Gringotts wards and older magic I do not recognize."

"See if you can untangle some of the Gringotts wards, then," Harry whispered as he drew the Elder Wand. "I'll work on the older ones."

The pair worked in silence side by side for several minutes, carefully picking apart the wards without setting them off. Fleur identified three different sets of Alert Wards and an anti-Disapparation Ward, among other basic protections. Harry located the Dark Mark detection ward (which he could ignore) and what looked to be some sort of retribution ward, which would trigger if anyone attempted to harm the owner of the home. He disabled it at once, shuddering to think what it might have done to him if he'd attacked Lucius while it was active.

"Shall we test to see if we've done it correctly?" Fleur suggested.

"Alright," Harry nodded. Fleur brought down the detection wards as Harry crept forward towards the enchantment field. He took a deep breath and stepped forward over the line, feeling the magic wash over him as he entered the property. Nothing happened immediately, and Harry stood stock-still, waiting and listening for any sign of a disturbance. But several minutes passed without incident – no Death Eaters, no snake, no sign that anyone had noticed his intrusion at all.

Harry backed up beyond the ward line and signaled for Fleur to re-activate the wards in case anyone checked them. "So far, so good," Harry muttered. "I don't think the wards will be the issue – it's the snake and the Death Eaters I'll have to worry about."

"And Voldemort," Fleur pointed out.

"And Voldemort," Harry grimaced.

"You do not wish to surveil ze grounds more before we leave?" Fleur asked.

"No way," Harry chuckled. He did not dare venture beyond the treeline...there were patches of tall grass peppered all around the Manor, any number of which could be housing Nagini at this very moment, basking in the moonlight. Besides, he knew the Manor was likely occupied at this very moment, not just by Lucius but by Narcissa and Draco, who was also home for spring break. No need to overstay his welcome and risk being spotted.

He and Fleur backed a safe distance away before Apparating back to Raven House. "When do you wish to perform ze operation?" Fleur asked.

Harry considered this. "Next Sunday, I reckon," he said.

"Sunday?" Fleur frowned. "But...is that not ze day that the train takes you back to Hogwarts?"

"Exactly," said Harry. "No one will suspect me if I'm meant to be on the train...Dahlia and Damian can cover for me. Besides, it will be a travel day for everyone, including Grindelwald, so no one will expect an attack that day."

Fleur looked concerned by the suggestion, but she saw the logic in the idea. "Very well," she sighed. "But we must go over ze plan in great detail before you go."

"Agreed."

So Harry spent a handful of hours each day that week at Raven House, going over his game plan with Fleur. He would board the train with his sister and cousin, sneak off before it departed, then enter the Malfoy property from the back woods. He would locate Lucius and deal with him (along with Narcissa if she was present), then rescue Luna from the cellar and Apparate her to safety. Then, assuming all went smoothly, he would return to the grounds and hunt down Nagini, hopefully ambushing her and staging her death to look like a Muggle hunting incident.

That would be one more horcrux down and a dangerous Death Eater gone, Harry thought to himself as he struggled to sleep the night before the planned excursion. Not to mention Luna safe and sound. Then we just need to retrieve the Sword and find Neville, and we can finally take this war directly to Voldemort.

The next morning, Grimmauld Place was a bustle of activity as the group prepared for the journey to King's Cross Station to catch the Hogwarts Express. Sirius was the designated chauffeur this time, escorting Harry, Dahlia and Damian to Platform 9 . "You lot stay out of trouble this term," he said gruffly before departing from the station. Harry grimaced at the sad irony: Sirius was normally the first to encourage trouble, and Harry had every intention of causing it that very day.

The trio boarded the train and located Daphne and Astoria in an empty compartment. Harry heard the train whistle blare and knew he had only moments to spare. "You lot cover for me," he said, standing to cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself. "If anyone asks, I'm patrolling the train."

"Where the hell are you going?" Dahlia demanded as the train began to rumble to life.

"I'll see you at the feast tonight before anyone realizes I'm gone," Harry reassured them. "Don't worry about a thing." And he hurried from the compartment, slipping unseen past a few scragglers rushing to their seats as the train slowly crawled out of the station. Harry managed to slip out the closing doors and hop back onto the platform as the Hogwarts Express pulled away, en route to its destination without him.

Still invisible, Harry carefully maneuvered through the crowd of departing parents beyond the Apparation point. He Apparated straight to Raven House, where an anxious Fleur awaited him.

"'Ow do you feel?" she asked as Harry began to prepare what he needed for the excursion.

"Fine," Harry shrugged. The nerves that preceded a dangerous mission gnawed at him, but he knew they would fade once he was in the thick of it. He moved quickly, knowing the sooner he got started with his task, the more the sensation would fade.

"And you are certain you do not want me to accompany you, for backup?" Fleur asked, already dreading the answer.

"Too risky," Harry muttered. "That would double our chances of Nagini discovering one of us lurking around the grounds. Just stay here and keep an eye on the coin."

Fleur nodded grimly. Harry had yet to use the enchanted Galleons for emergency communication, but knew they could mean the difference between life and death. If he was captured in the act, he could at least send out a distress signal so that his loved ones would know to get themselves to safety before Voldemort turned his focus on them.

Harry gathered his things and headed out the front door to leave. Fleur followed, wringing her hands nervously.

"Please be careful," she implored him.

"I will," Harry promised.

Fleur stepped forward to hug Harry tightly, clinging to him longer than expected. "Come back to me," she whispered in his ear, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. Harry felt a shiver of warmth at her touch, but knew now was not the time to indulge in such feelings. He nodded resolutely and backed away, her fingers falling from his as he turned on the spot and Disapparated to his destination.

The woods outside Malfoy Manor remained as gloomy and quiet as when he'd last visited. The sun was high in the sky, shining brightly over the surrounding area, which Harry was unsure of as a good or bad omen. It meant Nagini could be anywhere nearby, basking in the sunlight or on the hunt for her next meal, but it also meant she was less likely to be inside the Manor, lurking around every corner. That made his decision easier as he approached the ward line to breach the property.

Harry drew the Elder Wand and began disabling the wards he would need to evade notice. He took down the Alert Wards and the Anti-Disapparation Ward, as well as a few more obscure ones he could not discern the identity of. He left intact the basic Muggle repellants and Repulsion Charm, as well as the Dark Mark detection ward that he knew would be useless in stopping him. Satisfied with his work, he stepped through the enchantment field, holding his breath, but thankfully triggering no alarms as he stepped foot on the property.

Kill Lucius, Harry thought to himself, running through his mental checklist as he quietly stole across the open field to the Manor. Rescue Luna. Hunt the snake. Kill Lucius. Rescue Luna. Hunt the snake. He gave the tall grass a wide berth, just in case Nagini happened to be lurking inside, but he could not currently feel her malicious energy nearby. He stole up to the side wall of the Manor and crept around the corner to the front, slipping into the entrance without a sound.

The foyer of the Manor was empty, the halls stoic and silent. Harry strained for any sign of movement, but heard none. No footsteps, no slithering of scales on the marble floors. He considered using a Body Detection Charm, but worried about triggering some unseen enchantment with his use of such an invasive spell. The magic within these walls was ancient, handed down over centuries of Malfoys...who knew what nasty surprises might await him with the smallest slip-up?

Immediately he felt conflicted about how to proceed. Should he scour the Manor for Lucius first? It would eliminate one problem straight away, but potentially create another one, if he accidentally stumbled upon Nagini before he was ready to dispatch her. Besides, he could see the door to the dungeons straight ahead of him, and his fearful desire to check on Luna's well-being burned fiercely within him. So he decided to alter his plans slightly, creeping ahead to the entrance to the dungeons, slipping through the door and shutting it behind him with a quiet click.

Harry took the steps one at a time, heart pounding as he approached the cage where the prisoners were being held. He feared what he would find at the base of the stairs – what horrors Luna may have been subjected to. Was she being tortured at that very moment? Had she already been broken beyond repair, body mangled and spirit snuffed? He prayed silently that he was not too late, that she could still be rescued intact.

He reached the dungeons and found himself before a set of iron bars blocking his way. The gate was locked shut by a heavy padlock, and Harry could feel a subtle enchantment field between him and the interior of the cell. It was dark in the tiny space, and Harry could not make out anyone inside.

"Luna?" he whispered into the darkness. "Are you there? Are you alright?"

There was a haunting silence as Harry awaited a response. Then, to his relief, a chipper voice responded: "You see? I told you he would come!"

"Alright alright, you were right this once, Lovegood," a disgruntled male voice said in response to Luna. "Though you were so certain he would come last week too, weren't you?"

"I suspect he very nearly did," Luna's voice said matter-of-factly. "Hold on a moment, Harry; let me get the light."

There was a click as a bare lightbulb was activated at the center of the cell, allowing Harry to see inside for the first time. Luna stood at the center of the room, looking pale and exhausted but thankfully unharmed, beaming at Harry.

"Luna!" Harry sighed with relief. "You're alright? You haven't been harmed?"

"Oh, not at all," Luna said, shaking her head emphatically. "Gellert made Lucius promise not to touch me – I knew he would not allow me to be harmed. I fear the same cannot be said for my new friends, however."

She gestured to the back wall, where two older men sat in a crumpled heap. Harry recognized the older of the two men at once: Gerrick Ollivander, the famed wandmaker that Voldemort had kidnapped nearly a year prior. The other surprised him – a man he'd believed to be in Azkaban.

"Mr. Diggory?" said Harry in surprise.

"Potter," Amos Diggory spat. "Miss Lovegood insisted you would show up, and here you are."

"Er...yes," Harry said slowly. He hadn't anticipated there being more prisoners than just Luna, but figured it made sense. Voldemort had continued use for Ollivander to craft and identify wands, and likely wanted him close by to perform such tasks. Amos Diggory also made sense to be here – Cedric continued to be a thorn in Voldemort's side, and Amos had been in contact with him prior to the cliffside incident. He was no doubt being tortured for information about the resistance...Harry could see in the dim lighting that Amos was missing an arm and a leg, among other serious-looking ailments.

"So, what is your plan, Harry?" asked Luna brightly. "I take it you didn't just come to say hello."

"I'm getting you out of here," said Harry. He pointed his wand at the padlock and muttered, "Alohomora."

His magic pulsed as the Unlocking Charm activated, but to his surprise, a powerful wave of magic retaliated, jolting his arm and staggering him backwards, crashing back to the steps behind him. Amos Diggory roared with laughter at the mishap.

"Arrogant child!" he guffawed. "Obviously the Dark Lord would have stronger protections on his most valued prisoners than that! Clearly you underestimated his power and cunning when you decided to join his service."

Harry felt a twinge of annoyance at the snide comment as he picked himself back up. "You don't know the first thing about why I joined the Dark Lord's service," he grumbled.

"Sure I do," Amos spat. "Your whole family's corrupted and rotten. You and your father sold out to the Dark side rather than stand up for what is right."

"Is that what this is about?" Harry scoffed. "You think you're a better man than me, because you refused to keep your head down to fight another day?"

"I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees," Amos said proudly. "Same as my son, who is twice the man you'll ever be."

"Cedric?" Harry laughed. "I'm working with him, you idiot! And I've been fighting Voldemort for years now!"

"So the girl told us," Amos scoffed, glancing at Luna skeptically (whose intelligence he clearly didn't hold in high regard). "But I wonder: did you only turn against him once you realize you were in too deep? Are your intentions truly as pure as you suggest?"

Again Harry was sorely tempted to lash out at the man, to correct the record. But he swallowed his pride and let the vicious comments slide. He didn't have all day to argue the finer points of the war with Amos – he had a mission to complete.

"How does Lucius open the gate when he comes to check on you lot?" Harry asked, turning to Luna for answers.

"He carries a key with him that he uses to unlock the door," said Luna. "I imagine you'll have to retrieve it from him before you can open it yourself."

Harry nodded grimly. It was an expected answer, but one he was prepared for. Lucius was already on his to-do list before leaving the Manor...this made his next step abundantly clear.

"I'll be back," he promised, backing away to the stairwell.

"So he says," Amos said cynically as Harry ascended the steps and departed the dungeons.

He emerged back in the foyer, pausing once more to listen for any sign of movement, hearing none. He knew that the east wing of the Manor was where Lucius entertained guests with the dining room, ballroom and kitchens, which Harry presumed meant the west wing was for the residences. He headed down the hall to the west, heart thumping steadily, wand poised to strike at anyone he encountered.

As he approached the residence, he could hear the distant sound of shuffling footsteps, indicating that the Manor was indeed occupied. He heard two sets of footsteps, presumably Lucius and Narcissa, as Draco was currently on board the Hogwarts Express heading back for his final term at the school. Harry hadn't intended to kill Draco's mother, as she bore no Dark Mark, but he would not hesitate if she got in his way.

Harry followed the sound of footsteps as he drew closer, realizing they were on the floor above him. He spotted a staircase at the end of the hall and stealthily made his way towards it. Only once he reached the foot of the stairs did he finally hear voices:

"...I won't do it anymore, Lucius!"

Harry froze. The voice of Narcissa Malfoy was wafting down the stairs towards him, and by her tone, it sounded like the Malfoys were deep into an intense argument.

"No one is asking anything more of you, love," Lucius said, sounding tense and exasperated. "Your responsibilities are minimal compared to mine—"

"Are they? Are they, Lucius?" Narcissa laughed. "I may not take orders directly from your master, but who is the one ultimately forced to clean up after his messes? Who prepares all the food for you and our unpleasant guests? Who cleans this Manor from head to toe without the help of house-elves, which you are too paranoid to hire? Who cleans the blood from the walls of the dungeon after you've 'interrogated' our prisoners?"

"You think I torture them by choice?" Lucius demanded. "You think I enjoy holding prisoners and entertaining guests I don't want in my home?"

"Our home," Narcissa corrected him coldly. "It's always about you, isn't it, Lucius? You never cared about what I need, what I want!"

"That's not true," Lucius said weakly. "Of course I want what is best for you, my love—"

"Stop calling me that!" Narcissa shrieked. "If you truly loved me, Lucius, you would not subject me to this miserable life! Forced to bow to a madman! Forced to keep innocent girls as prisoners, and play host to that bloody terrifying snake!"

"This life will not be forever," Lucius insisted. "The Dark Lord has very nearly won. Once he has the Longbottom boy, we will no longer have to suffer such indignities—"

"You truly believe that?" Narcissa guffawed. "You do not see just how deranged your master has become? You follow a lunatic, and it is myself and Draco who suffer the consequences. How can you live with yourself, knowing you've doomed your son to a short life of bending the knee to a vindictive tyrant?"

Lucius said nothing in response to this, and Harry could tell Narcissa had struck a nerve. "I have made mistakes, Narcissa," he said meekly. "I do not deny it. But I never intended to harm you or Draco."

"And yet, that is the repeated result," Narcissa said coldly. "No more, Lucius. I will not stay another moment to watch my family fall to pieces. I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" Lucius demanded, as footsteps moved towards the stairwell above. "Leaving where?"

"To our summer home on the continent," said Narcissa. "Draco will be welcome to join me there if he survives this madness. But you, Lucius? I never wish to see you again."

"Narcissa, please," Lucius moaned. "Do not do this."

"Save it for the lawyers, Lucius," Narcissa scoffed. "Best of luck in your future war crimes."

Narcissa appeared at the top of the stairwell, descending quickly towards him. Harry flattened himself into the corner and held his breath as she passed by; luckily, she was too flustered to take any notice of a nearby invisible presence. Her heels clicked as she walked determinedly towards the foyer and out the front door to Apparate away. Lucius did not follow her, and soon silence settled again in the echoing space.

Harry waited a good ten seconds before stealing up the steps Narcissa had just descended. He walked into the master bedroom, where he found quite the unusual sight. Lucius sat on the bed, head in hands, looking more disheveled than Harry had ever seen him. His usual sharp attire was absent, replaced by a set of wrinkled silk robes that looked worn and frayed. Never had Harry seen Lucius Malfoy look so defeated, despite being on the winning side of a lopsided war.

Harry stepped out of the shadows and dropped his Disillusionment Charm, aiming his wand at the man. "Hands where I can see them, Malfoy," he growled.

Lucius glanced up, and Harry now saw the heavy bags under the man's eyes. He did not appear alarmed or even surprised by his appearance...if anything, he looked resigned to his fate.

"So the Phantom has finally come for me," he scoffed bitterly. "I did wonder when my day of reckoning would come." Lucius reached to his left, causing Harry's wand hand to twitch; however, he merely picked up a nearby bottle of Firewhiskey, taking a deep swell of the drink and belching fire before setting it down again.

"You have evaded justice for too long, Malfoy," said Harry. "Now your judgment day has arrived. On your knees."

Lucius complied, sliding off the bed and onto the hard wooden floor. "You win, Potter," he slurred, placing his hands calmly on his thighs. "I only have one request."

Harry blinked at the familiar address. He felt his face to verify that his glamour was still intact (it was) – so why had Lucius called him by his real name? "What did you just call me?" he demanded.

"I've known it was you for some time, Harry," Lucius said despondently. "Draco determined the truth months ago. He noticed your frequent absences during significant events, and witnessed your use of illusory magic on the cliffside to battle the Dark Lord."

Harry was dumbfounded by this revelation. "Draco knew all along that it was me?" he stammered. "And he told you? Then why did you not tell the Dark Lord?"

"Please, Harry," Lucius begged, eyes wide and searching his face. "All I want is for my son to survive this war. I knew if I exposed you to the Dark Lord, you or your father might retaliate by going after Draco. He fears you just as much as he fears the Dark Lord. I did not want him to suffer the consequences of my decisions. Not anymore."

Harry had never even considered targeting Draco, either out of retaliation or as a bargaining tool. But he supposed it was a valid fear – Harry frequently worried that Damian or Dahlia would be targeted for similar reasons. The logic went both ways, it would seem.

"I still don't understand," Harry muttered. "You had all the power in your hands. Yet you chose not to expose me, to curry favor with your master."

"To what end?" Lucius lamented. "Sure, you would have been caught, and I would have been praised for it. But the Dark Lord does not reward loyalty for long. Even Bellatrix, his most faithful and devoted, was constantly berated and placed under the Cruciatus for minor missteps. What good would turning you in have done?"

"You would have delivered victory to your master," Harry said, bewildered. "Your side would have won the war."

"My side?" Lucius laughed hollowly. "I no longer know what 'side' I wish to prevail. At least while Dumbledore and your father were running things, I had wealth and power to do as I pleased. The Dark Lord has done nothing to improve the lives of those who are loyal to him...if anything, he has made them considerably worse."

"You had no problem following him before," Harry retorted. "You fought for him willingly in the first war, and were the first to rejoin him when he returned."

"A folly for which I may never recover," Lucius lamented. "I truly believed the Dark Lord had honor, that he would uphold the pure-blood traditions he enticed us with. That he would never endanger my son, my heir. I chose the wrong side, and I have lost everything because of it. My only hope was that the prophecy was somehow true, that you and Longbottom actually had a plan to defeat him, so that my family and I could flee and start our lives over anew. There is no running from the Dark Lord."

So you've reached the same conclusion as me, Harry thought. Lucius too knew that Voldemort was simply biding his time until Neville was found and killed, and then he would move out of the shadows and do away with everyone he did not trust. The Potters, the Greengrasses, the Weasleys, and even the Malfoys. He was surprised to see such contrition from Lucius, whom he had imagined to be among Voldemort's most passionate and devoted followers left.

"Be that as it may," Harry said slowly, "I cannot let you live after everything you've done. You asked the Dark Lord for permission to kill me personally in that graveyard three years ago. You planted the diary in my sister's cauldron to open the Chamber of Secrets, and assisted in her kidnapping to the Department of Mysteries."

Lucius swallowed hard as the gravity of Harry's words hit him. "I...I do not deny any of it," he stammered. "I know my life is forfeit. Just please, I beg only one thing of you, in exchange for my silence."

"And what's that?" Harry demanded.

"Spare Draco," Lucius pleaded. "He has done nothing to deserve his fate. I failed him as a father, and do not wish to see him suffer for my mistakes."

Harry hesitated before responding. "He is also a Death Eater," he pointed out. "He accepted the Dark Mark."

"Under duress!" Lucius said hastily. "Much like yourself, might I add. Would you condemn yourself to the same fate? Do you not deserve a second chance to atone, to live?"

Harry pondered this. He had often wondered what might happen to him once this war was over, if they somehow won. Would a future Minister of Magic look kindly upon his actions taken during the war? Would he show mercy, or condemn Harry to death for his associations to Voldemort, the same way Harry condemned all the Death Eaters for their own? It was an uncomfortable question to consider.

"I will...think about it," he eventually sighed. "If Draco stays out of my way and keeps his mouth shut, I may let him live."

Lucius exhaled with apparent relief. "Thank you, Harry," he whispered, a tear running down his cheek. "Just make my end quick. I have suffered enough already."

Harry obliged. Two muttered words and a flash of green light, and Lucius Malfoy was no more. No emotions, no regret. Just a wasted life extinguished, long after the will to live had already ceased.

"Accio key," Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the man's body. There was a jangling of metal as a key ring flew out of Lucius' pocket; Harry caught it, feeling the magic thrumming from the jagged tool. It matched the magic he'd felt in the dungeons, confirming it was the key he was looking for. After ensuring he left behind no fingerprints or other evidence of his identity, he retreated down the stairs.

Harry pondered this new information on his way back to the dungeons. Draco had known of his transgression for months, and had not betrayed him to Voldemort. That was worth special consideration, though it now complicated matters further. He had just murdered the man's father, after all – would Draco still be so forgiving when he learned what had happened here tonight? He would have to speak with Draco as soon as he returned to Hogwarts that evening, to explain things. If he reacted with anger, Harry may have no choice but to kill him anyway. If he promised to remain silent? Well, then Harry was not sure what he would do.

His mind continued to turn over the possibilities as he reached the foyer and descended the steps into the dungeon once more. "Oh good, you found it!" Luna exclaimed happily as Harry clicked the key into place. "Was Mister Malfoy gracious enough to give it to you?"

"Not exactly," Harry grimaced as he unlocked the grated door. "Don't worry – Lucius Malfoy won't be harming any of you ever again."

"You killed him?" Amos Diggory gasped. "Merlin, boy, you truly are mad!"

"What do you care about it, anyway?" Harry demanded. "Didn't he torture you? Didn't he cut off your limbs?"

"Yes, but we're supposed to be better than them!" Amos protested. "We serve justice in the court system, not with vigilante murders!"

"And what good did the courts do in the last war?" Harry demanded. "Lucius wriggled his way out of justice then – who's to say he wouldn't again?"

Amos opened his mouth to retort, but Ollivander calmly interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps this is a conversation for another time," he suggested. "This is not the appropriate place."

"Very well," Amos grumbled. "So, how are you getting us out of here, boy?"

"Er…" Harry muttered, looking between the three prisoners. He hadn't planned on getting all three of them out, and knew the additional bodies would only slow him down. Not only would he have to find a way to transport them all beyond the ward boundary, he had to Apparate them somewhere safe, and he could only take two people Side-Along at a time.

"It's okay, Mr. Diggory," Luna piped up brightly. "Harry is going to get me out first, then he will come back for the two of you. Isn't that right, Harry?"

"Oh," said Harry, surprised. He hadn't expected Luna to suggest such a plan. "Are you sure? Perhaps we could do the other way around, or take two and leave one person back—"

"No, the girl's idea is sound," Amos said begrudgingly. "She'll be the easiest transport, and you can come get us crippled geezers after. Preserving the youth is the most important thing." Ollivander nodded in agreement.

"Alright," Harry said uncertainly. "Are you ready to go now, Luna?"

"I am," Luna nodded. "Farewell, Mr. Diggory, Mr. Ollivander. I'm sure we will see each other again quite soon."

"Best of luck to you, Miss Lovegood," Ollivander beamed at the girl. "It has been a joy having such a ray of sunshine here in this godforsaken place." Luna gave him and Amos a brief hug before turning to Harry and following him out of the cell.

"Quickly, Luna, read this," said Harry, handing her the slip of parchment with Fleur's handwriting on it. Luna read the note, magic shivering over her as she was let in on the secret of Raven House. She nodded in understanding, and Harry led the way up the stairs and out of the dungeon.

His mind was already racing ahead as they climbed the steps. This development was unexpected, but not impossible to overcome. He would get Luna out, then return for Amos and Ollivander, before beginning the hunt for Nagini. Once the great snake was dead, he would reconvene with Fleur and plot out their next steps together. For the first time, it felt like the worst of it was behind him – the end was in sight.

Harry felt a chilly hand slip into his own as they ascended. He looked down; Luna was gripping his hand tightly, face hard-set and determined. He wondered what had spurred her to do this...she was probably just anxious, seeking comfort in his embrace. He squeezed her hand tightly for reassurance as they reached the top step and emerged into the foyer of Malfoy Manor.

Suddenly, Harry felt that he was the one in need of reassurance. His blood ran icy cold, as he and Luna froze in place, terror gripping the two of them at once.

The Manor was no longer vacant. A small group had arrived, pouring in through the front door and fanning out before them. Several top Death Eaters stood at the fringes – Lockhart, Rookwood, Yaxley, and even Snape, all eyeing Harry with surprise. Gellert Grindelwald stood off to one side, eyes gleaming with triumph at the sight of Harry; and at the forefront was Lord Voldemort himself, red eyes boring into Harry's, a look of suspicion and anger in his terrifying expression.

"It is just as I have foreseen, my Lord!" Grindelwald announced gleefully. "We have a traitor in our midst!"