With more determination than before, Bill went back to his current reading material and tried to understand more of what the ancient, dust-spotted book was trying to teach him. He had to be prepared for when his application was accepted because he had to stand toe to toe with men who had been raised and spoon-fed these old laws and traditions from the moment they were born. He needed to be able to hold his own because, unlike Harry, he didn't have someone to dictate to him what to say and no one to copy when it came to casting a vote.
Voldemort was exhilarated as he heard the news personally that his latest subtle assassination plan had been a success. The chosen Death Eater had reported to him immediately afterwards and so far, no one in the Ministry had noticed any of the carefully planned disappearances nor stumbled upon what was left of the bodies. Not that he expected them to as they were well hidden and transfigured into something else on top. He was being very cautious while the Ministry so kindly blinded themselves to his plans.
Everything was finally coming together and it made him very happy. His followers were more ruthless in their missions, and his loyal followers who had been incarcerated in Azkaban were recovering well, though he suspected that Bellatrix's mental abnormalities would be permanent. After all, the Black family had never been known for their rational, sane way of thinking. However, every once in a while, one of them turned up and they compounded all of the negative Black family traits so completely that they were almost completely unable to carry out the simplest of tasks.
He believed that Azkaban had amplified these traits in Bellatrix, who seemed almost incapable these days of any rational thought. She was completely loyal to him and to the cause, of course, but unable to follow orders to the letter. She worked wonderfully well as a threat and deterrent, but her mind wandered aimlessly and she threw random curses, mostly into the air, but sometimes at other people.
He had hoped that she would get better in time, but the more freedom she got, the worse she became. He was toying with the idea of keeping her busy with menial tasks, but it would be a waste of her particular talents. Giving it some more thought before casting it from his mind, he absently stroked the head of his beloved Nagini as she wound around his shoulders and neck, a comforting warmth that a fellow human had never given him. Nagini, and Nagini alone, was different. It's why he kept her so close, so protected, it was why she had been chosen, the only living thing, to be one of his precious Horcruxes, of which he'd had six, making seven fragments of his soul, including the part that was still within himself. Now, he only had five Horcruxes, he no longer had seven pieces, the most magically powerful number.
Severus, one of his most loyal, had already told him that that incessant fool Dumbledore was looking for his Horcruxes. He'd already destroyed the one…his old diary. He had been absolutely livid with Lucius over the lost Horcrux and he had punished him harshly for losing the diary. He was thinking of making another one, to replace the one lost, but it took considerable amounts of magical power, not to mention the fact that he needed a suitable victim and a fitting object to contain the soul fragment into.
Running a hand over his smooth, bald head, he considered all of his options seriously. He wasn't in a position to greatly weaken himself just yet with such a use of magical power needed to make another Horcrux.
'What to do, Nagini?' He hissed in Parseltongue, his mind exploring several avenues that seemed plausible to him.
He knew logically that he was in no position at the moment to make another Horcrux, but the thought of having one less Horcrux than he'd wanted when he'd set out to protect himself really stuck in him.
His eye caught the meticulous, well-formatted letter on his coffee table. He smiled despite himself. He had read the same letter half a hundred times already and he couldn't believe the difference in the Harry Potter he had met several times and had once wanted nothing more than to kill, and the forming young man who had written him the letter.
He hadn't killed Lucius over the Horcrux incident because of his amazing forethought to snatch up Harry Potter while he could. He had sifted through Lucius', admittedly incredible and stunning, thought process of when he'd received the floo call from the bank and had opened that office door to see Harry Potter sitting forlornly in one of the high-backed chairs.
He'd gotten the surprise and the anger, the immediate thought to find a way to use this to his advantage, a way to hand Potter over to him as a gift. But he'd also come across the curiosity, the burning curiosity to know why Potter was sitting in the bank, why he didn't know anything about his heritage, his lordships, or even his bank vaults.
The neglect by Dumbledore was surprising, yet entirely unsurprising at the same time. He knew what the man was capable of, after all, but the extent of what Dumbledore had done to the boy was overall surprising and disgusting. He didn't blame Lucius for his protective feelings for the boy. After all, tradition and the old laws were a large part of Lucius' life, of any pureblood's life. Finding out that Dumbledore had been using these laws illegally for his own gain had angered Lucius enough that he had informed the boy of everything, had given him the help he'd needed, which had confused Harry Potter visibly, and Lucius had then gotten the boy to claim both of his lordships then and there, thus greatly weakening Dumbledore's influence at the Ministry. This had pleased him greatly, as had the forming anger and hate he could see in Potter's eyes from Lucius' memories when he was told what Dumbledore had done to him. Once assured from Lucius', and Xerxes', memories that the boy would not stand in his way, even if he wouldn't outright join him, he had been content to leave the boy to Lucius and allow the man to explore the protective, defensive feelings that he'd developed gradually for the boy.
It was strange to see the process from Lucius' mind, the forming bond that was only growing stronger. It may have started as a way to discredit Dumbledore and to use the boy for his own gain, but Lucius had come to genuinely care for the boy in a relatively short amount of time and, after reading the letter sent to him by the boy himself, he believed that he understood why. The change in young Harry was phenomenal.
He picked up the letter and he chuckled darkly at the emotions he could sense behind the written words. Harry had been angry and frustrated when writing this letter, but it didn't come across at all in the words that he'd written in very fine calligraphy. Instead, the elegant and eloquent letter was a masterpiece in polite, respectful penmanship and Harry had impressed him with his control and his carefully selected words. He hadn't written Harry back. Harry's letter didn't require a reply and he'd perceptively picked up on the merest thought that perhaps his initial letter to Harry had been what had caused his anger and frustration in the first place. He'd have to wait to find out, he was already planning for them to meet face-to-face again, just to see how the boy reacted. That, more than anything, would clue him into how the boy really felt and if he really would step back and stay out of this war.
If Harry failed this test, then Lucius and Xerxes would have failed in their mission and the boy would have to be eliminated. It would be a shame, especially with his loyal follower, Rabastan, becoming emotionally invested in the boy due to their budding betrothal. But he couldn't allow any threat to his plans to remain alive, it was why he was orchestrating so many assassinations now, while the Ministry was lax and not aware of what he was doing. It would become infinitely harder to set up and implement such assassinations when everyone was on high alert and expecting an attack.
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