15

Chapter XV: A Prototype

(Sirius P.O.V)

Anchors? Sirius thought to himself reading over the letter from Harry that had just arrived in his hands, Voldemort left behind anchors, and the locket might be one. Sirius rubbed his chin, I'm not sure what that means, but the magic that came from that locket, I don't have a doubt in my mind it must be connected to him somehow. Sirius looked across the table, watching as his wife fed their suckling child with a gentle smile before continuing to read Harry's letter, after all, it was a far more enjoyable way of starting the morning than the nightmares that no doubt littered the Daily Prophet regarding the cursing of a student in Hogsmeade. Madam Rosmerta, Sirius thought somberly, She'd never do something like that, never.

Sirius shook that thought from his head, lifting the letter once more, though, Sirius hadn't managed to get far before Narcissa and Remus descended from their bedroom, his cousin looking far more relaxed than he'd seen the past couple of days. For hours it had looked like Narcissa had been mulling over something, and by the peace that now glowed in her eyes, it seemed to Sirius that the witch had finally reached a consensus. "Ouch," Emmeline whispered, catching the room's attention as Narcissa walked up beside her.

"Here," She whispered, "Try adjusting your hold like this." Sirius watched as Narcissa maneuvered Emmeline's hand, the visible strain in her eyes fading as Narcissa quickly backed off.

"Wow," Emmeline said with a chuckle, "This is a lot more comfortable, my wrist doesn't feel like it's on fire anymore." Narcissa smiled as his wife continued, "How did you learn-"

"Experience," Narcissa said, a kindness in her voice that Sirius had rarely been given a chance to hear, "When he was a baby, Draco was a pretty fussy eater. I had to try all sorts of positions just to get him to latch." Sirius watched as a wave of sadness crashed upon the woman's face at the mention of her son's name, only recovering slightly as Remus took her hand.

"Tell them, Narcissa," Remus whispered, "The same thing you told me last night. I promise you, everything will be fine."

Sirius' expression hardened as Narcissa and Remus took their seats at the table, before Narcissa let out a tired sigh, "Now that I'm no longer a mole, and I can be more open with everything I know regarding Voldemort's operations." The woman still shuttered at the name, though was seeming to make a great effort to continue to say it, "Voldemort, he knows about the prophecy, the same one that you do. The one about Harry being the child who has the possibility to defeat him. I doubt he paid much credence to it before, but now, after Harry escaped his clutches at the graveyard, the man has become obsessed with learning about it."

"They've been planning," Narcissa said, "Lucius, Avery, McNair, all of them have been doing what they can to prepare the prophecy retrieval plan, though Voldemort, he doesn't exactly like getting his hands dirty with scud work." A pregnant paused filled the room before Narcissa continued, "However, he is also unaware of the fact that Harry already knows about the prophecy, so it is likely that he will attempt to force Harry to retrieve it for him, as prophecy can only be retrieved by whom they are about."

"Why should we care about whether Voldemort learns about the prophecy or not?" Emmeline muttered, "I mean, he's trying to kill us either way, right?"

"Your godson," Narcissa whispered, turning to Sirius, "He has a good heart. If Voldemort learns that Harry has a chance, a real chance at killing him, who knows what he'll do to lure Harry out before he's ready. How many muggle lives will your Godson allow to fall by the wayside before he goes to confront Voldemort whether he is ready or not?"

"That is… a good point," Emmeline relented, "Harry can be a bit rash in regards to the lives of innocent bystanders."

"Unfortunately, that's not all," Narcissa said her voice hoarse, "I can't speak about it, as during my duties as a double agent I was forced into creating an unbreakable vow that prevents me from talking about it in detail, but one thing that I can tell you is that there is an assassination planned for Dumbledore within the school."

"Inside the school?" Sirius hissed, "How? Which student possibly has the ability to kill Dumbledore? Batty as the old man is, he's not a pushover."

"I'm sorry," Narcissa said her voice trembling, "I wish I could say more but I can't. I just-"

"It's okay, Narcissa," Emmeline said gently, her tone soft and motherly, "Whatever this assassination plot is Dumbledore is the last person we have to worry about. What we should be focusing on is protecting that Prophecy from Voldemort at all cost, and also finding out what else Bellatrix knows." Emmeline sighed, "I'd have loved to just hand her over to the DMLE, but did you read who they just put in charge of it while Madam Bones recovers."

"No, who?" Remus asked, his eyes wrinkled with concern.

"Umbridge," Sirius had felt his heart stop in his chest at his wife's words.

"Are you fucking serious!" Sirius shouted, causing James to cry, "Sorry, sorry," Sirius whispered as Emmeline worked her hardest to calm James before dropping his head. "I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this, but if Fudge keeps making stupid moves like this-"

"Yeah," Remus said with a furious growl, "He has to go."

(Michael P.O.V)

There was so much that spun through Michael's mind as the November winds howled beyond the secure castle walls. It doesn't make sense, Michael muttered, taking a break as he stepped away from his workbench, their once lair now turned into his private workshop, Even if Rosmerta was evil, a tough enough pill to swallow on its own, why would she attack Katie Bell, somebody who has been nothing but kind and respectful to both her and her establishment?

Though, if Bulstrode's statements are to be believed, a challenge within itself right there, she claims that the 'Gift' was intended for Dumbledore. Worse yet, that's in-line with the message Tyrex told me to deliver. Which only leads to the question of why the hell Dumbledore was so calm regarding a vision of his death?

Michael felt as if his understanding of the world was becoming less and less clear by the second, the smile that had resided on Dumbledore's face upon hearing the message of his death only serving to irritate him more. If this was an assassination attempt, it still doesn't explain what problem Rosmerta may have with Dumbledore that is so great she'd want to kill him. By now you'd think the Ministry would have something to report, but with that bitch replacing Bones as the DMLE Head, it's doubtful anything useful will be coming down the pipeline any time soon.

Michael took one last glance at the Daily Prophet that rested beside him, reading the only headline that had made him feel a bit better; DMLE Head Amelia Bones Stabilized, Rehabilitation Schedule in the Works. I knew she'd make it through, Michael said with a grin, Toughest witch I've ever met. Michael rose to his feet once more, cracking his back before approaching his workbench once more, the silver thread, while extremely limited in supply had gotten his creative juices flowing like crazy, his mind now racing as he scanned the suit of armor and Dragon Hide that Harry and the twins had helped him procure.

Michael removed the metallic bracer from one of the old armored suits, holding the heavy iron in his hand, "If I bind it like this, it'll become too heavy for me to move as quickly as I need to, though if I trim it, the protection won't be as effective." Michael scratched his chin, "Then again, I am binding it to thin dragon hide, so it is possible that it may still work well enough, plus this color is ghastly, I'm thinking something a bit sleeker, jet black maybe." He shook his head, "Cosmetic changes come last" His father's voice rang in his head like a bell before scratching the back of his neck, "Alright, break time's over, time to get back to work."

Michael had felt his arms tremble as he thinned the iron, his wand acting like a microscopic blade, shearing the top layer of the metal bracer off. The newly carved arm guard fell on the table with a thud, bringing a bright grin to Michael's face as he placed the armguard over the dragon-hide, his hands trembling as he held the alchemical thread. Okay, whispered in his mind, taking the provided needle, Here goes nothing. Michael had begun feeling like his back was about to spasm as his focus intensified greatly, each motion feeling like he was being watched beneath a microscope as he weaved the metal and the dragon-hide together, creating a secure bond. His arm throbbed, but his heart pounded with exhilaration as he weaved the final knot. Michael lifted the new bracer with trembling hands, slipping it over his other wrist before shrinking it to size.

"Awesome," Michael whispered, the feeling of the Dragon-Hide under layer brushing against his skin, "It's not light, but I can definitely still move, I'll need have Daphne or Hermione add some runes to it, but it definitely looks like it works." Michael had no sooner finished admiring his craft before a familiar black-haired boy popped his head in, Perfect, Michael thought to himself, "Hey Rook!" Michael called out, causing Harry to turn and face him, "Perfect timing come here and help me test something?"

"I was actually coming to get you, the next S.P.I.R.E meeting is happening in like half-an-hour and Hermione was bothering us to find you," Harry said with a chuckle.

"It'll only take a minute," Michael said lifting his arm, "Check this out."

"No way," Harry said with a chuckle, "You got it to work!" Michael nodded, "That looks so cool man, definitely needs a color change but still, badass."

"Tell me about it," Michael said with a chuckle, "It's just a prototype, so it's not perfect yet, I still need to work with runes, and everything, but Charlie gave me more than enough Dragon-Hide scraps to last a while so I've still got plenty of chances, especially once me and Dehoff strike up a deal regarding his thread." Michael shook his head, "Anyway, I'm getting off track here, I need to test this thing's durability. I want you to hit me with a couple of spells, and I'm going to see just how much deflection this non-runed-up model has."

"You, um," Harry said with a pause, "You sure that's a good idea?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine, we'll start small, maybe a severing charm or a stunner, nothing too dangerous," Michael said eagerly, "I just really need to test this thing's limits. Now, are you in or not?"

"If you say so," Harry said with a nod, "Just, well, prepare yourself, alright?"

"Glad you care, Rook," Michael teased, "Now come on, let's do this."

He watched as Harry sighed, lifting his wand, "Alright starting small, okay?" Michael nodded, lifting his armored arm as Harry flicked his wrist, "Stupefy!" The bolt of red light flew from Harry's wand like a bullet, before slamming into Michael's metal-clad arm. He grit his teeth, his feet sliding back slightly from the impact, and yet, despite the force of the spell, not only was he not stunned, all he'd felt was a gentle vibration.

He looked up, smiling like a madman as an amazed look of wonder formed across Harry's face, "Michael! That's incredible!" Harry shouted on, his excitement now on full display, "Did you feel anything?"

"A little vibration, but that was it," Michael replied, his own voice trembling with excitement, "Alright, let's try another one, something a bit stronger, the exploding charm, maybe?"

"If you think you can take it, I'm game," Harry said with a nod lifting his wand in unison with Michael's arm. "Ready!?"

"Send it, Rook!" Michael called out.

"Bombarda!" Harry roared, a blast of what felt like pressurized air erupted against his arm, a possible bruise forming against his forearm from the heavy vibration, but the pain had been minimal at best. "How was that one?"

"A little tougher, I kinda felt that one," Michael muttered out, "But with a chest-plate made of this, I think I could take a couple of those head-on before I'd be down."

"You're a genius, Corner," Harry said, shaking his head with amusement, "Not sure how you always get these crazy ideas of yours to work, but I gotta hand it to you, you're certainly something else."

"Thank you, thank you," Michael said with a chuckle, "You're far too kind, but I think we should stop there, don't want to risk actually getting my arm broken and having Claire yell at me for being too reckless again."

"Fair enough, plus, we gotta get to the meeting, remember?" Harry said nodding his head as Michael expanded the bracer sliding his arm through it.

"Now if I can find a way of equipping this at will rather than having to drag it around with me," Michael said taking one last look at his workbench, "Then we'll be cooking." He shook his head, "Questions for another time." Quickly, he buried the thoughts as he exited the room behind Harry, his mind feeling as if a hurricane was ravaging his thoughts as he muttered out, "Did you hear about the DMLE replacement, that bitch is a criminal, she's the last person who should be leading the task force."

"And Snape's the last person who should be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts," He heard Harry's voice call out, "It's a crazy time we live in right now, and somehow it's up to us to change it." Harry growled, "I'm not quite sure how to go about it just yet, but I'm certain now that Fudge needs to go, he's more of a liability than a neutral party, and we don't need to make our jobs any harder than it already is."

"Speaking of things that make our goal harder, how have your lessons with Dumbledore been going?" Michael asked, "I don't know why, but I've been getting a weirder vibe from him than normal. It's been bothering me for a while actually," Michael said turning to face Harry once more, "A centaur approached me with a message for Dumbledore, telling me to warn him that his life was endangered. I did, and when I delivered the message, the man looked completely unphased, at first I thought that was just how he always is, but now… do you think he knows he's going to die?"

Harry stopped in his tracks, forcing Michael to follow, turning towards him in confusion, "What I'm about to tell you, it stays between us, okay?" Harry muttered out, so low that only he could barely hear him, "Do you remember how I told you about the anchors that are currently making Voldemort immortal?"

"Kinda hard to forget about a detail like that mate," Michael said solemnly.

"Dumbledore's been doing research, trying to locate them. We think we have a secure lock on one, and Dumbledore destroyed two before now," Harry started, "One of them was a ring, Dumbledore," Harry paused for a moment, "He claimed that it tempted him to wear it. He put it on, and he got cursed." Michael's eyes felt as if they'd grown three-sizes as Harry continued, "The honest truth is, whether he's killed or not, Dumbledore only has until the end of this year, max."

A staunch silence filled their tiny bubble as Michael fought the reflex to shiver in fright, "Well, that would certainly explain his lack of reaction to hearing his life was in danger. But if Dumbledore dies, you're all the light has left to look up to. Do you think you're ready to-"

"No," Harry muttered out honestly, "But unfortunately, I don't have much of a choice."

Michael nodded solemnly as he leaned against the stone castle walls, "Do you think whoever is trying to kill Dumbledore could have been behind the attack on Katie then? I know you don't believe Rosmerta is actually guilty."

"The list of suspects isn't that long," Harry said, rubbing his temples furiously, "A couple of weeks ago, I saw Malfoy sneak into the Second-Floor girl's lavatory before vanishing. The ghost that lives there, Myrtle, or whatever, she claims she heard hissing before Draco disappeared. I'm not quite sure what any of that means, but I don't like it."

"So what's the plan in dealing with it?" Michael asked quickly.

"I don't know," Harry muttered, "I want to confront Draco, part of me really wants to beat it out of him. But if I do that, and he turns out to be innocent, as unlikely as it seems, I lose the good graces of the media. And with Voldemort growing stronger, I need to be able to recruit as many people that are willing to fight for our cause as possible. As everyone has been making it painfully clear to me recently," Harry said, as he formed a tight fist, "This isn't a kid's game anymore. Every action has a reaction, and any misstep can cost us the war. As painful as it is, the safest move is to trust Dumbledore, he claims to be watching Draco, and keeping tabs. But if that bastard was responsible for harming Katie, I'll make him regret it."

"Talk about being between a rock and a hard place, huh?" Michael whispered.

"Yeah," Harry said his eyes locked to the ground, "No kidding."

"Hey, Rook," Michael said, turning to face his best friend once more, "We'll figure this out, all of it."

"Yeah," Harry said with a nod, "No matter what."

(Astoria P.O.V)

In just the past few days, so much had changed in Astoria's life, and while things like being moved up to the starting lineup for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team had been great, it had felt completely undeserved. She was thankful that Daphne had been working diligently by Madam Pomfrey's side, and in turn, was able to keep the team updated on Katie's condition. But even that had only served as moderate comfort as the truth of the matter was that it was quite touch and go at the moment, something that was clearly bringing down the energy of the normally lively Room of Requirement.

Another irritant that had been boys. When she was younger, Astoria could only admire just how naturally pretty her sister was, she often struggled to find any hint of relation whenever she stared at herself in the mirror because of their, differences, to say the least. Yet, things had begun to change in a rather irritating fashion during her latest Hogsmeade visit. All she'd wanted to do was run around and explore the village, after all, it was her first free outing into the town not bound by meetings. But both the Creevy brothers, Derek, and Roger Malone had done nothing but bug her to do things with them. She wasn't quite sure why boys had begun to take an interest in her now, but she knew one thing was for sure, none of them were as fun to talk as Damyan.

The smile of the Curly-Haired Blonde had brought a sad glow to his face. Unlike Claire, Damyan's father, due to his condition, didn't want him going too far from home anymore, especially not in this crazy time. It also hadn't helped that correspondence had been few and far between, with Damyan saying much of the Bulgarian Ministry had been trying to wash their hands of the Voldemort crisis, despite his father's protest that intervention was needed. She wasn't quite sure of the next time she'd be able to hang out with the young cartoonist, but one thing was certain, she was missing him terribly.

Astoria was ushered out of her own head as Harry's voice echoed through the room, "Hey everyone, welcome back to another S.P.I.R.E session," Harry said scratching the back of his head nervously, "Wow this really doesn't get any less awkward, huh?" A gentle chuckle filled the crowd as Harry pressed on, "Well, as you know, Katie Bell is a dear friend of mine, and unfortunately, due to the horrible circumstances that happened at Hogsmeade, she currently isn't able to join us today. However, the good news is that Daphne, who works closely with Madam Pomfrey has confirmed that just this morning, Katie's condition seems to have stabilized."

A sigh of relief poured through the crowd as Harry's face hardened, "As all of you have heard, what happened to Kaite was no mere accident spell firing, she was cursed, and whether that curse was intended for her or not, she is still suffering the consequences of somebody's horrible attack." The students fell silent as Astoria watched Harry carefully, "That being said, I personally am not of the belief that Madam Rosmerta was the culprit, it simply doesn't fit that woman's character, and we need to believe in the notion of innocent until proven guilty. That does not mean that we should become complacent though."

"Over the past lessons," Harry continued, "We've practiced the disarming charm, as well as the stunning charm, and I have seen incredible development in each of you regarding the usage of said spells. So today, we'll be picking up the pace and practicing a more advanced spell, the reductor curse." Harry's face flattened as he continued, "While this spell is not any more difficult to cast than a standard stunner, the reason this is considered more advanced is due to the effect of the spell."

Harry waved his hand, and Astoria watched as a training dummy wheeled itself into the center of the room, causing the sea of people to split. "For example, Astoria, do me a favor, okay?" Astoria's head shot towards her brother finding some comfort in his smile, "I want you to shoot the dummy with a stunner, alright?"

Astoria nodded taking her position before the training dummy, that Harry had cleverly designed to be wearing Death Eater garb. Astoria calmed her mind, turning to Harry who gave her a gentle nod before she lifted her wand, "Stupefy!" She watched as a jet of red shot from her wand, slamming into the Death Eater dummy's chest, pushing it back down the middle of the room, earning her quite the applause and a flurry of impressed stares.

Though no compliment had made her feel warmer than the feeling of Harry's hand resting atop her head, "Not bad Short-Stack, not bad at all." Astoria smiled as Harry stepped forward, "So as you can see, even with the damn near mastered stunner, the results would be nothing but a strong push back and, of course, leaving the opponent stunned. However, if I do this," Harry said, lifting his own wand, "Reducto!"

Astoria watched as the jet of blue light raced from his wand, smacking the same training dummy in the chest, yet unlike her stunner, this time the dummy didn't simply move, it exploded, fracturing into a cloud of dust. The room shuttered at the display as Harry blew the dust from the center revealing himself clearly once more. "That's the difference," Harry said calmly, "One spell neutralizes an opponent, the other exterminates them. In learning and mastering this spell, you hold control over a powerful spell capable of true life-threatening damage, it is not a spell to be used lightly. In teaching you this spell today, I'm asking you to carefully consider when the appropriate time is to cast a spell of this magnitude, but I will finish with this, taking a life isn't a choice that should ever actively be made, it is a choice that should be made for you. If there is another way to escape, take it, but I know better than most that sometimes the only way out of a fight is to win it. Is everyone here ready to begin?"

"Yes," Astoria called out, though her voice was neutered by the overwhelming roars of enthusiasm around her.

"Very well then," Harry said, "I want three people to a training dummy since we won't be casting at each other today. Neville, Michael, and Daphne will be around overseeing the group and providing extra assistance if needed, "Ron, Astoria, and Tracey are with me, let's get moving!"

Astoria had wasted no time breaking away from the pack as she joined Harry's group, Tracey and Ron quickly following her lead as they soon found themselves standing behind a white line which Harry had demanded the room to create so as to keep the students a safe distance from an explosion. "So," Harry began, "Just like with any other spell, the trick of mastering the Reductor Spell is a mix of fluidity, and speed. The quicker your wand motion is, the harder your spell will be to defend. An added layer of benefit is that the motion for the spell is difficult to trace, simply being a sideways V of sorts, something that if done well can look like many other spells."

"Though this is important," Harry said, "Like many other spells, you will feel a slight tug at your magical core, unlike most spells though, the pull of a reductor curse is larger due to the destructive capability of the spell, as such it is important to gauge how much of your magic you are expending in the spell, as for most wizards, around ten full-powered reductor curses will leave them completely spent. In reality, twenty half-powered curses are better than ten full-powered one as the destruction of the spell is devastating enough without putting everything you've got into it."

Astoria swallowed hard as Harry turned towards her, "You have some of the best magic control I've seen, the fact that you were able to conjure a Patronus at twelve is proof of that. You need to focus Astoria, but I know you can do it."

She nodded softly, lifting her wand with a calming breath, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm as with a quick zag of her wand, she muttered, "Reducto!" just as her brother's had, a jet of blue sprang from her wand ramming the dummy, yet only managing to push it back.

"Good, but ironically, I think you held back too much," Harry said with a smile, turning Astoria to face him, "You are so much stronger than you think you are Short-Stack," Harry said, his voice firm and comforting, "Stop doubting yourself, and let your magic out, okay?"

Astoria nodded, gritting her teeth firmly as she lifted her wand, "Reducto!" She bellowed with more force than ever before, the jet of magic even forcing her to slide back from the recoil, as a thunderous boom filled the room, the dummy before her turning to dust.

"That's what I'm talking about," Harry said with a smirk, "Now then, we just have to find the middle range before those two extremes, and then we'll really be in business." Astoria smiled as Harry turned to face Ron, "Alright Weasley, you're next, let's see what you got."

"Reducto!" The spell rang over and over throughout the room, with some members of S.P.I.R.E falling to the floor with exhaustion in desperate need to catch their breaths, others simply falling asleep from the desperation to rest. One thing was certainly becoming quite clear, anybody who'd joined thinking this group was going to be some social gathering was now facing a rather rude awakening. Although, from the corner of her eyes she watched as Cho lifted her wand, before with a roar she uttered, "Reducto!"

Astoria's eyes widened as the dummy before the Asian Sixth-Year shattered to smithereens earning a room-shaking applause from everyone still standing, as from behind her she heard Harry let out a proud grunt as he looked up at the roof whispering quietly, "You see that Cedric, she's becoming quite the witch, isn't she?"

A sad smile filled Astoria's face as she looked up at her brother, How many burdens do you carry? But Harry hadn't seemed to notice as he'd begun walking around awakening the exhausted students alerting them that the lessons were over, stopping at every student to give them a compliment on their performance. She was quite sure what Harry had said to Cho, but as she left the room, she did so with her chin held high with pride.

Astoria paused painfully though as she clutched her chest, a feeling of a knife ripping through her had suddenly overtaken her as she released a rather wet sounding cough, a warm liquid coating her hand. The burning pain had quickly subsided, but as she removed her hand, she felt her bones tremble with anger as her eyes scanned her bloody hand. Damn it, She muttered, I must have pushed myself too hard today. But, She felt her body shake in silence, Why is it progressing so fast?

(? P.O.V)

The Corridor of Secrets no longer caused him any distress, it had been months since his first time entering the chamber, and he'd begun to grow rather accustomed to the view of the shed that belonged to the now Slain Basilisk, a tool that could have been of great use to him had that Muggle-Loving Headmaster not slain it. The beast had done nothing but good in his eyes, killing of the Blood-Traitorous Weasley girl and many other filthy muggle-borns, he'd only wished the snake had finished the job in regards to the Granger Bitch.

Though he supposed it didn't matter, he'd finish the job his master had given him. He'd rise above his cursed-blood and join the ranks as the honorary son of the Greatest Dark Wizard that ever walked the earth. Then, he'd prove his worth by taking his traitorous mother's life. In truth, the thought of his own mother turning against him had been painful, but the worthless woman had made her choice, she chose to stand against him, chose to stand against the one man who had a chance of ridding him of his foul-blood. There were no alternatives, those who stood against the Dark Lord were destined to die.

His first attempt had failed, but it was the first of many. First it would be the foolish headmaster who the world deemed a rival of his lord, then it would be his own mother, and while the Dark Lord had claimed Potter as his own, it didn't mean he couldn't make the 'hero of the light' suffer by taking the lives of those close to him, starting with those two Greengrass bitches. "Nobody," He whispered beneath his breath, "Nobody disrespects me and gets away with it."

It hadn't been that much longer until the crunching of rock beneath his feet had turned to puddes, the water resided on the sides of the pathway that led to the stone statue of Salazar Slytherin flooding the stone tiles. None of that distracted him any longer, neither did the deceased snake that rested before him, its once glimmering eyes now blackened slots as Dumbledore had removed and destroyed the serpent's most powerful weapon. Only one thing commanded his attention, an artifact that he'd been instructed to move from the Room of Lost Things to here, the Vanishing Cabinet.

His Prefect status had made the change easy, his master had been quite thorough regarding the instructions of how to reach the room, and as always his master was correct in instructing him to move the Cabinet, as the room had so often been accidentally occupied, and now seemingly systematically so as Potter and his gang seemed to constantly be occupying the room.

It didn't matter though, who needed the Room of Requirement when access to the Chamber of Secrets was available, a place he would never be suspected of entering, even by the Headmaster as Parseltongue was required for entry, a trait that he did not naturally possess. Yes, it was perfect in every way, and soon, he would gladly do his master's bidding, soon he'd rain hell upon the school that had disgraced itself so thoroughly.

"Draco," A whisper echoed in his head, his hand reaching for his throbbing forehead, the snake pendant that donned his neck, swinging as the Dark Lord whispered through their link, "Update me on your progress, my boy," His master hissed.

"I've managed to successfully transfer an inanimate object between the two points," Draco whispered back in his mind, the chirping of his caged bird growing louder as he glared down at it, "I'm beginning to conduct the small animal tests tonight. Is Bellatrix ready to receive the bird?"

"No, according to Barty, Bellatrix has been captured by your mother and her foolish Order," Voldemort hissed, his master's words making him feel so small, "But worry not, upon locating her, we will retrieve her, and kill all those who would dare to capture one of my elites. For now, you will be working with Crouch, he will keep me updated on your progress as well."

"Yes master, if I may make a request, my Lord," He whispered, "I'd like to join the retrieval raid if possible."

"I will see what can be arranged, my son," Draco shuttered at his master's remarks, "But for now focus on your mission, do so, and you will cleanse your name of your family's sin, do so and you shall be reborn, your blood pure, and your title secured, as the Second of the Great Lord Voldemort."

"Yes master," Draco whispered back, "As you command."