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I look around, eyes narrowed. This is the first time I've properly seen him. Lord Voldemort himself.

He's sitting casual as can be on a large throne, carved snakes of living steel undulating under him, hissing maliciously at his subjects. The rest of the room is cloaked in shadows, some sort of protection spell for his inner sanctum no doubt. All that is visible is the throne and its lord as well as the small space at his feet, holding his subjects. The darkness almost pressing in on them, a presence looming menacingly, making me wonder if there's actually something there in the shadows.

Three Death Eaters kneel before him, fully covered in dark robes, their hoods up, masks covering their faces.

I know one of them is Peter. Or I wouldn't be able to see this memory. I keep a sharp eye on the proceedings, hoping they unmask, providing me with some information of use.

I watch Lord Voldemort, trying to compare him to Canon, but he seems nothing like that mad man, in appearance or mannerisms. His eyes half lidded, his body almost lazily draped across the throne, supremely confident in his lair, yes. But there is a certain charm to him, a certainty in his power and vision that I could see spellbinding his followers.

“You've passed your third level of initiation… As I foresaw when I chose you to join our illustrious brotherhood.” Lord Voldemort says smoothly, one finger stroking one of the steel snakes, the metal almost purring as its ruby eyes closes in pleasure. “As I do to all of those who share my vision for a greater future for all our kind, you have earned a small boon.”

He flashes a smile, both a threat and a promise, “Choose wisely.” He hisses out, a shiver running through the three kneeling figures.

I could see how he managed to amass his followers, I am simply seeing a memory, yet I can almost feel the need to please, to serve this man. The man I know to be a monster without equal. A boon from a Dark Lord is no small thing either, I've never heard of this, so it must be knowledge that hadn't been publicized.

I've looked, and there isn't a lot of any knowledge on the Death Eaters in the public domain. Mostly speculation. Even someone like Igor Karkaroff who'd been arrested, only had rumors in the papers about his affiliation, having been arrested before the Death Eater laws were created.

I know from Pettigrew himself he was marked already in school, by the size of the people here, he's likely an adult in this memory, which means he didn't fully join until he graduated. If this third level invitation is as I suspect, the last step before entering.

Which means Pettigrew bragging about the inner circle for being marked at 15 was complete hyperbole. He perhaps was on a fast track, but in no way was he in the inner circle immediately - if this is any sign.

The figure on the left, speaks up, voice clear and arrogant, “My lord, I wish to ascend to the headship of my house, so that it can be better wielded in your favor.” There's a spell or something on the masks I assume, because the voice comes out with an odd timbre to it, making it hard to identify no doubt when they're out fighting Aurors.

Silence reigns as Lord Voldemort mulls it over. Before his eyes narrow, his decision is made.“Your father is one of mine, boy… Crucio!” He says casually, a cold cruel smile on his face as the petitioner screams in agony, falling to the ground, heels kicking and scrambling, until his voice grows hoarse, and his fingernails break into a bloody mess scratching at the stone floor. “You chose poorly.” Lord Voldemort says with authority, releasing the spell, “Your father has served me for a decade, what right do you have to deprive me of a fine servant, for you? An untested initiate?”

“My lord, I'm sorry, I beg for your mercy, I didn't think!” The previously so arrogant sounding man begs hoarsely, prostrating himself.

I shiver as Lord Voldemort laughs coldly, the more I see, the more I realize how utterly fucked this world is if he's entirely sane, except for the obvious sociopathy of course.

“Your boon is your life. Hold it dearly little snake, “Voldemort says almost playfully, “I shan't let you keep it if you disappoint…”

“My lord… Thank you, thank you for your mercy, I won't ever fail you!” The relief in the man's voice is clear.

“We'll see.” Voldemort says smoothly, “I hope you have a wiser… Choice, my sneaky friend?” Lord Voldemort addresses the man in the middle. Confirming my thoughts that it is Pettigrew.

Peter answers immediately, almost eagerly, “Amanda Fawley, I want her dead, my lord.” He spits out in a rush, head bowed, arm to his chest.

Lord Voldemort laughs, “Ah, revenge is it? This woman scorned you? Well, Lord Voldemort provides for his dutiful servants, she shall pay for her disrespect.”

I close my eyes in dismay, so Peter has been responsible for more than the Potter's death and Sirius' incarceration, when it comes to destroying the Order of the Phoenix. Fawley was a name I recognized as she'd been publicly outed as a member of the Order - when in the war.

Her body had been staked in the middle of Diagon Alley, a sign hanging from her neck, blaming Dumbledore for not looking after his flock well enough.

I can't say I'm surprised to find out about Pettigrew committing more atrocities. My own skill in Legilimency is not the greatest at this early stage, so I've not been able to pick and choose from Pettigrews memories, stumbling along random ones. This is the first Death Eater related memory I've stumbled upon.

Many of his non Death Eater memories were worse. Peter Pettigrew had a mentally ill, abusive mother. He was born a metamorphmagus, showing talent from the beginning which was immediately nurtured by his mother, but not for any loving feeling. I'd seen the memories of his mother forcing him through change after change, constantly pushing him to infiltrate the neighbors as one of their kids, bringing her back juicy gossip she could use to embarrass them or in some cases ruin them.

As he grew older, the more his mother demanded he perform more insidious tasks to bring her the information she desired. Which eventually evolved to planting evidence to create discord and drama so that she could see the payoff.

Including making the then freshly turned eleven year old Peter Pettigrew take on the visage of the mayor and have… Relations with her! Just so she could blackmail him with the evidence, because he'd married another woman, rejecting her advances. No wonder he was completely fucked up.

This world…

The amount of families ruined by the Pettigrews… And because it was internal family drama in most cases, no one ever suspected an outside hand in it.

It's no wonder Pettigrew had entered Hogwarts ready to fool everyone around him and with no care for anyone's feelings or rights, used as he was to a life of taking on another’s identity to get the maximum payoff, regardless of who he hurt.

I'd seen some of those first Hogwarts memories. Peter could have been an Adonis if he so wished with his skill in transformation, instead he'd taken on the form he'd kept throughout his years at Hogwarts. A somewhat plump, average boy. He'd intended to be invisible to the staff and student body, to give himself more leeway to sneak around and enrich himself - since no one would pay attention to him disappearing for hours, as he was.

Then he'd been sorted into Gryffindor, disrupting some of his plans. Sorted with the Marauders. He'd realized that he could join them or paint himself as a victim to the vicious Sirius Black and his friend James Potter, two boys he'd met on the train and whose measure he'd already taken. So he'd reinvented himself slightly, became useful to them, while retaining his average and plain mien. Letting the other members take all the limelight and attention, while he was more of a background character. Never suspected of more.

The things he'd done at Hogwarts, while hiding under the umbrella of Potter and Black… The things he'd done using the map and the Potter's invisibility cloak while morphed into someone else…

There were people in Azkaban framed for crimes Peter committed. Good people. No wonder people feared any metamorphmagus’, they changed down to the DNA, or at least Peter could. I knew, because Peter had left… It, behind. On some of his capers, and the investigating Aurors had identified the person the material belonged to.

While the wizarding world still wasn't comparable to the muggle world in regards to DNA and fingerprinting and the like - blood and other fluids… They could test fine.

What was left behind wasn't Peter's DNA, but the person he'd transformed into. He'd had many a chortle about that, after seeing some poor innocent get put away or commit suicide because of his actions.

If I had any regrets from capturing the bastard and keeping him in a constant coma, while training my Legilimency by breaking into his mind, they have vanished now.

I watch with disgust as the last Death Eater, a woman, asks for her husband to be murdered in a way that would look accidental so she could take over his estate. This time he wasn't a Death Eater, so Voldemort promised to see him dead as easily as someone might say - nice weather today.

They do not unmask. Not even as they are proclaimed their own cell in the organization following under the umbrella of another cell who follows order from the inner circle. Each of them is given a codename, the only name they are to go by to fellow Death Eaters at any time.

No wonder so few Death Eaters were jailed. I think with exasperation, watching the memory end. Pettigrew's code name… Doppelganger…

Voldemort had actually run a tight ship it turns out. And apparently thought himself funny. Why else name Pettigrew that?

So, Voldemort was a larger threat than in Canon…

What else is new in this crapsack world? I think, annoyed. I can feel my head hurting from abusing Legilimency beyond what is probably sane. I exit the comatose Pettigrew’s mind.

Enough for today…

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Pettigrew's place in the Undercroft isn't anything special. A simple cot with a cobbled together IV to continuously feed him the draught keeping him in a coma, as well as another that is feeding him a nutrition potion.

Unfortunately I do not have any automated spells for removing waste, or the applicable runic ward for it, but I am actively searching for it to learn it. My runic knowledge is kind of specific and focused, I don't have any means of cleaning up waste as of yet that wouldn't also vanish part of him. I needed something automated as I wouldn't, couldn't, be around everyday to take care of it.

And either way just no, because cleaning up Pettigrew, even if I never actually touch him, is just… No, I'd rather not.

The door to the Undercroft opens as Tonks steps through, I wave at her, trying to not look too surprised. Other than a mumbled comment of - that's cool, when she'd helped me drop off Pettigrew, ( And the absolute shit storm of spells she'd used to make him suffer using his own wand…) she'd never been back since, and never explored it fully that day, due to the injuries she'd taken and the interest she had in the new limits to her power she'd learned after seeing Pettigrew flex his.

Tonks seems a bit more cheerful today, as she looks around, eyes zeroing in on the many shelves of books, “Secret hideout is a pretty big deal for a firstie, why don't you share some of those books with big sis, eh?” She says with a light grin on her face as she saunters over and throws an arm around my shoulders. Obviously going straight for the important things in life. Ways to hurt people more.

“You only want to use me for my books.” I deadpan.

Tonks grins unrepentantly, “See, there's that ickle raven brain at work!” She says, before giving me a noogie.

I hate to admit it, but I give up pretty quick. Without my wand in my hand, my ability to defend myself from her evil ways is limited. Especially now that she has begun to really experiment with her powers.

Not that I think I'd win with a wand anyway, but maybe I could at least get her back once, that way.

I straighten my ruffled hair with some annoyance, Tonks having let me go, a smug smirk on her face.

“I can't even access the books, not without the portraits opening up some sections to me, they control the wards.” I grumble, still very annoyed that Ominis seems to dislike me so much.

Tonks eyes flicker to the portraits, she'd no doubt seen them her first time, and today, but this is the first time she's paid attention to them, specifically. She saunters off to peer at them, making a face when she sees the Slytherin colors. “Duh, secret hideout, of course it's the snakes behind it.” She says, rolling her eyes. She taps her chin as she tilts her head, looking at the portraits. “Why two portraits though? Why not just one?”

I walk up beside her, frowning at her, “Two?” I ask, my own gaze going to the empty portrait between Sebastian and Ominis. “Don't you see the third one?”

Tonks raises an eyebrow, looking down at me, “Seeing things is not a good sign, baby raven.” She says, a note of concern in her voice as she switches her gaze back to the portraits, peering concentratedly at them, before shaking her head, “Baby raven do we need to check your eyesight, there's only two.” She confirms.

“Stop calling me that.” I say automatically, while my mind ponders why she can't see the empty frame. It's not like I can ask Sebastian and Ominis, remembering my last attempt at getting any information on the empty portrait. “Don't worry about it, but to go back to the books, I've seen several books in there that would be suitable for you, although maybe minorly illegal.”

Tonks pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. “How illegal are we talking about, squirt?”

I make a meh motion with one hand, “Not like Dark Arts.” Although there are some of those… “More like spell manuals that have some borderline spells that the Ministry doesn't really allow to be published anymore.”

Tonks brightens up immediately, “The best kind of legal, by technicality.” She almost purrs out, looking towards the books with hunger.

This girl wants to be an Auror, I can't help but to think with some exasperation. From all I've seen this year, I'm not sure she'd be a good fit.

She'd be a great fighter or infiltrator - once she really got into experimenting with her powers. But the rest of the job… I have my doubts.

Maybe Moody polishes her that well under his tutelage?

I wave dismissively to the two portraits who'd miraculously somehow kept quiet so far, “You'd have to convince them. So good luck.” My smile is a bit bitter as I mutter, “Maybe you'll have better luck then me.”

Tonks smirks at me, ruffling my hair teasingly, before she turns to the portraits, “Heya boys,” She says flirtatiously, playing with her pink, spiky hair, “My name is Tonks, any of you boys interested in helping a girl out? I really could use some help from a snake in teaching me all the naughty things!”

My hand slaps my face in the background, is she really trying to seduce a painting?

Ominis, not surprisingly, keeps his silence. As he is the one with the most control of the Undercroft, Tonks is fighting an uphill battle. He's also blind, and an adult. So not likely to fall for her charm, if portraits even can feel anything like that.

Sebastian, who died a teenager, and is proudly a complete troll, takes up the gauntlet with glee on his face.

“I love helping, but I am a dirty snake so I don't do anything for free, so I'd need you to help me first, hottie.” He says, waggling his eyebrows.

“This is ridiculous.” I mutter, how did I go from plumbing the depths of a Death Eater's memories to this.

“What does a fine portrait like yourself want from little ol’ me?” Tonks says, grinning widely, no doubt taking amusement from my suffering.

“Well, it's been awhile, but a cute girl rubbing her knockers all over my canvas would be a treat.” Sebastian says crudely, making exaggerated grabbing motions with his hands.

The deep sigh of utter done that Ominis utters, is matched by my own, this is what I get from introducing Tonks insanity into my safe space….

Of course, Tonks makes it worse a second later. Chirping out, “Sure.” While shrugging her shoulders, seemingly uncaring about the request.

“Tonks…” I say flatly, giving her a look full of judgment.

Tonks winks at me, grinning cheekily, she waves a finger in a circle at me, “Just turn around ickle baby raven.”

“You can't be serious.”

Tonks rolls her eyes, one hand already loosening her tie. “Lucas, it's a piece of canvas, it's like rubbing up against the wall or your blanket, it's not anything to worry about, a portrait isn't a person.” She flicks her eyes toward the bookcases, “Totally worth it.” She decides.

My face is red, I disavow anything to do with Tonks or Sebastian or anything with this situation, I just don't want to deal with it. I rush out of the Undercroft, to Tonks tinkling laughter chasing me on my way.

That better not work. I think as I find somewhere else to be.

It is just unfair if she gets access better than my own to the library. Since when do portraits have a libido anyways? There's something wrong there…

Now that I think of it… They don't act like any other portraits I've seen… Ugh, super, more mysteries. I want Canon and it's stupidity back!

I find a bench and slump down, knowing without a doubt, that escape or not. Tonks will tell me all about it whether I like it or not.

At least she seems a little bit… Happier than she has been lately.

Small mercies.

With how much I owe her… If doing weird shit like this makes her happy, I can't really complain about it too much.

I'll just stay out of the way until she's done… Tonks… Almost died because of me, she lost her wand because of me, I wouldn't be surprised if whatever happened with Ophelia is a butterfly of my own presence too, because why not? So I've markedly made her life worse! Just by my presence.

So yes, I will not stand in her way, no matter how weird that way is.

I owe her that.

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When all the students had returned after winter break, it had also brought with it some changes.

In a way, those changes actually succeeded in impressing me slightly. Aurors now patrolled the castle, ten in total, five working days, five working nights. A response to what happened to Ron, no doubt. Even if it's still not in the papers and therefore a mystery to my classmates. That said, everyone suspects the Weasley's were involved in something anyway, since they've all disappeared from the castle.

I wonder if Dumbledore or the Ministry had just been waiting on a good enough excuse to do this ever since the Cerberus incident? Perhaps the fact no one was injured in that incident had prevented any further action. Either way, despite my wish to sneak around exploring - and keeping captive my eunuch (Thanks Tonks, nightmares for life now!) Death Eater. I approve of the Auror presence. The more meat bodies there are between myself and Voldemort when things eventually go down - the better.

The second change, frustrating me slightly. Had been the new face at the staff table at the start of the new semester.

The reason for why I am at this moment, being dragged quite unceremoniously through the halls.

“Tonks, why are you like this?” I lightly complain, barely able to keep my feet under me as Tonks is practically flying through the halls speedily.

“You're like the biggest history nerd, why are you even complaining?” Tonks snarks at me, as we skid to a stop outside a door with a freshly placed plaque denoting it as the History of Magic classroom.

We had a new Professor in the subject. Of course just in time for me to have finished the subject to get away from Binns. Life is suffering.

At least it's confirmed that Dumbledore is still a generally nice guy to those that the rest of the world barely thinks about. Although Binns had basically been fired, Dumbledore just moved the HOM classroom, filling Binns classroom with permanently transfigured dolls that moved at a set pattern - imitating (badly) students.

But it was enough for Binns, who hardly even noticed students, or got their name right - in the first place. The ghost continued his lessons blissfully unaware that he is now obsolete.

“I passed my NEWTs… I'm probably more qualified than the professor.” I mutter distastefully. Especially as it was a Dumbledore special. A student not even a year out of Hogwarts, someone he could no doubt groom to be his loyal puppet like the rest of the staff.

I recognized her, so I want to believe better. But I've become much more pessimistic the longer I've been exposed to the magical world.

Tonks knocks wildly and loudly at the door, knock! “Penny!” Knock! “Penny!” Knock! “Penny!”

“Just come in Tonks.” We both hear the amused voice from beyond the door call out.

Tonks whips the door open and rushes in, dragging me behind her, but soon enough she abandons me by a desk. All so she can rush in and sweep the giggling professor off her feet, the professor having been, by the look of it - in the middle of arranging her classroom.

I look around in interest as the professor yells for Tonks to let her go, to which she only earns a loud raspberry on her neck. I recognize a lot of what I see. Maps on the walls of famous and historic locations in magical history, as well as some of famous battles. Interspersed through the room are several globes that I note with interest are from different time periods. Not much else is done to the room yet, but we did just interrupt her.

Tonks finally drops our new professor, who tries to straighten her loose golden blonde hair, a flush to her cheeks.

“Penny, this brat is my bestest friend in the world, ickle raven Lucas Greenwood.” Tonks introduces me with her usual flair, before smushing her cheek with Penny’s, “Lucas this is my other bestest friend who abandoned me by graduating before me - Penny Haywood.”

I smile politely at the exasperated and flushed young woman. Someone I recognized from Hogwarts Mystery, although her hair was usually depicted in braids if I remembered correctly. Her open and honest face did match what I remembered. “It's nice to meet you, Professor.” I say, not willing to be quite as familiar as Tonks is.

Penny pushes Tonks away, “Merlin you haven't changed, Tonks.” She says fondly, a bright smile on her face, she gives me a curious look, “It's nice to meet you as well, Lucas, don't think I don't recognize the history prodigy.” She says teasingly.

“Yeah, well, it figures I test out of Binns class and they hire someone to actually teach.” I say, before wincing slightly, “Not that I'm disparaging a teacher.”

“Oh, no, go right ahead. Binns is absolutely dreadful. I don't know how I got an O in History NEWTs,” Penny says cheerfully.

I have a feeling that with her young age, good looks and cheerful disposition, most of Hogwarts already has a new favorite teacher. And I won't be in the class… Well, it's a good thing I'm a firstie and not controlled by hormones.

“You got an O because of your big brain.” Tonks says, half hugging Penny, her smile perhaps the brightest I've seen since I met her.

Why had Tonks called me her only friend if she had Penny? Or had she meant only friend here? Honestly I'm not too sure I want to know more because the more I know the more confused I get. Which is opposite of how more knowledge should work!

“I'm surprised Ophelia didn't join you, where is she anyway I haven't seen her around at all?” Penny asks curiously.

I grimace as Tonks' face shutters for a moment. Right, bad subject, let's move on, ASAP!

“So, do you need a teaching assistant, Professor Haywood?” I ask hurriedly. Not out of any real want to add to my schedule, I've specifically gotten rid of classes to free up my time, but it is what popped in my mind first.

Penny is quick on the uptake, obviously having noticed how quickly Tonks' mood fell, and she answers immediately, “You're a bit too young for me to pass that by the Headmaster or the board.” She says with a gentle smile, “But if you're still interested in your fifth year and beyond, I'll certainly take you up on the offer!”

“Are you going to make Beatrice do it next year?” Tonks asks, sending me a thankful look, grateful for the subject change.

Beatrice Haywood, Penny's sister and a Hufflepuff. I hadn't talked to her much, but I had seen her look particularly morose since Penny was introduced. What kid wanted their sibling in a position of authority over them.

Penny smiles, perfectly innocently, but the mischievous look in her blue eyes betrays her, “Oh, I don't know,” She demurs, “Do you think she'd absolutely hate it?” She asks, lips twitching.

Tonks giggles, “There's the secretly evil Penny I know!”

“I feel like I should warn Beatrice..” I muse out loud, dryly.

“That's how you could earn yourself a detention, Mister Greenwood.” Penny says sternly, looking like she's attempting to mimic McGonagall. It fails pretty quickly, as she can't quite hold back her giggles, “Oh, Merlin, I've always wanted to say that!”

As I see the two girls, a year apart in age, Professor and Prefect, giggle and joke with each other, it eases some of my worries about Tonks, but also furthers my questioning of Dumbledore's intentions. While I don't doubt Penny is capable in the subject, at least enough to pass muster while she learns the ropes - it's still suspect to hire a recent graduate back as a Professor.

With the obvious totally not an Auror that replaced Hagrid as the groundskeeper and now this hire, it's really starting to feel like things are changing too much, too quickly.

Well, I'm staying out of it anyway. Studying, exploring the castle for secrets, hanging with my friends, which I've neglected, and of course practicing my Legilimency so I can fix my mind.

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Those are the only things I need to worry about.

The rest of the weirdness at Hogwarts is not my problem.

Dumbledore is being proactive, there's Aurors around. They can handle it.

Probably.

I mean….

No, not my problem!

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Two weeks into the new semester.

“Alright, I get why you want to do this. I do, but still, I'll ask one last time, are you sure?” I ask the determined cute little faces of the trio in front of me.

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and blowing my mind - Brian Lupin.

Yeah, apparently Remus Lupin got over himself in this world, and of course named his kid after Dumbledore's least weird name. I really need to start paying more attention to my yearmates, what else have I missed?

After Ron… Apparently the quiet bookish kid had been some sort of kid therapist, (aka read a lot of self help books) offering support for the golden twosome at that point - which in only a few weeks turned it into a new trio.

And now here they were, asking me for help to learn how to duel.

Harry Potter wanting to learn how to fight already could only be good.

Hermione Granger wanting to learn as well… Surprising. But I suppose the Ron thing had changed a lot of things.

The story had finally blown up, the details all over the Daily Prophet. The whole wizarding world reeling from the atrocities committed to a pureblood family - however removed from society they were.

Which… Unfortunately is already helping the same people that passed that stupid muggleborn law, as for some reason the only ‘suspect’ that is being theorized about in the Prophet - is an unknown muggleborn assailant having it out for purebloods. Which is bullshit because I know they can test blood so they know it wasn't a muggleborn that cuckolded Arthur.

I smell Malfoy's hand in it. And worst of all is that I can ruin the plot immediately by revealing Pettigrew. Except I can't. Because I need him.

Ugh, everything sucks, I want a refund. Is what I want to say… Except you know… Magic!

The trio has exchanged glances filled with determination, I sigh, bringing my wand to my hand, “Alright, this first lesson will be simple spell practice, so this classroom is fine. I need to see where all three of you are at and how quick you can learn.” I let out a breath, at least I have plenty of free time now…

“I have another room we can actually duel in, a room that heals battle damage if we get a bit rough.” I continue, Harry, the one who'd felt Ron's case the keenest, listens attentively with a level of steel in his eyes I doubt his Canon self had until fifth or sixth year.

“Just beware,” I warn, “In that room we might draw fire at any time from a surprise beast attack.” I am half serious, because Tonks definitely would joyfully attack us if she walks in on us practicing. But beast was perhaps a bad description.

But these are firsties. I mean real firsties. I don't want to tell them they'll be subjected to a crazy person.

They deserve to find out on their own.

Like I did.

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Ophelia came to a stop, a small piece of a parchment flying into her hand, as usual, without any sign of who sent it.

She quickly stepped away into a hidden passageway - no snoopy portraits or students to worry about.

The last time she'd received one of these missives - she'd been instructed to follow Harry Potter around and report back everything he did and her best guesses as to his overall demeanor and thoughts of recent events. A task she had been in the middle of performing when the parchment arrived.

No doubt whatever Harry and his friends were doing with Lucas Greenwood would be of interest, she still disliked the boy, but she couldn't deny that almost anything he did seemed to achieve something.

She opens the parchment, verifying with a quick spell that it belongs to the same sender as the last one. The role she'd taken on on Dumbledore's request, and the tutelage she'd been receiving from Snape - had obviously worked somehow. Because someone within the castle was giving her these tasks, someone with a large interest in Harry Potter.

She froze as she read the text. Double and triple checking.

She'd already gone far for her deception. Even…. Tonks…. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

Tonight, leave Hogwarts behind, you are no longer a child, you are one of the initiated, one of those seeking greatness, I have seen your past, your present - go now to your future.

Instructions of where to go followed.

Ophelia felt hollow.

It's starting….

It's… Him…

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Later that night.

She stood there silently, wishing she could just…

She wished for too many things, unobtainable things. She wasn't supposed to be here. She had cut ties for a reason. For the safety of the one person she cared for. For her own sanity. The hardest thing she'd ever done.. she wasn't supposed to be here!

She didn't want to cut ties, didn't want to… Harm her, hurt her. Merlin did she ever struggle with the decision. The only good thing to have ever happened in her life, and she cut it away, breaking her own heart, but more importantly shattering Tonks’.

For her own good… But it tasted like nothing but ashes, it was an excuse that did nothing to lessen the harm she did or would do.

Ophelia watched the slow rising of Tonks' chest as she slept peacefully in her bed in the Hufflepuff seventh year female dorms. Her face was more beautiful than ever without the hardships of waking life to mar it. Without the walls she'd built up, just like Ophelia, to survive a cruel unfair world.

Hogwarts was their home, but it was also in a way their cage. They couldn't evolve. Stuck in the place of their happiest moments… And their worst.

Slowly, fighting back tears, she started removing the charms and jeweled butterflies in her hair. Each painstakingly removed with great care, each removing a bit of her heart with it. Tonks had made them for her. Tonks had lovingly crafted each one with her in mind. Had managed to infuse permanence in the charms, all kinds of useful spells for Ophelia's protection woven in. Tonks' way of helping her when she had no way of protecting herself at home during the summer.

Ophelia had never told her just how much that meant. Had never told her enough… How much she meant to her. Had never treated her right. She was such a fuck up.

She didn't deserve her. She never had. Too caustic, too bitter. Too pessimistic. She'd only succeeded in dragging Tonks down with her, instead of doing the selfless thing, letting her go, watching her soar without Ophelia holding her down.

And now… She would be leaving her… In the worst possible way. Not letting her soar, leaving Ophelia behind for greater things, instead hurting her, making her cry, being the one that left. Abandoned her. Her best friend. Her love.

Morgana damn me, my family should have drowned me at birth. She thought bitterly. She'd only succeeded in making Tonks' life worse. What a way to repay her for saving Ophelia's soul, her heart, her entire being, just by being there.

A waste, since she'd be damning her soul now.

Tears finally fell as Ophelia slowly put each charm on Tonks’ nightstand. Gently and with utmost care. It was… Better this way. She wouldn't understand. How could she? But at least… She wouldn't be blindsided. She'd see them when she woke up… And she'd know.

Gently, making sure she didn't wake her, Ophelia bent down and kissed Tonks' lips, with featherlight care, one last time.

Then, she swiftly exited the room, grabbing her bag that held all her worldly possessions. She took one last look at the room that had been her home for the last seven years. Her eyes strayed to Tonks' bed, one last time. Eyes shiny with tears as she forcibly pulled herself together.

She closed the door quietly, taking a deep breath to try and regain some modicum of poise. Before she could break down in a sobbing mess.

Then she left the Hufflepuff dorms, for the last time.

Snape met her by the gates, because of course he wouldn't let her go that easily. Ophelia wanted more than anything to blast the man. She'd admired his genius, but after a few months under his tutelage, her hatred for him burned brighter than almost anything under the sun.

His cruelty had known almost no bounds in preparing her Occlumency and proficiency in the Dark Arts.

“You can't stop me.” She said haughtily, a spell having taken care of her red eyes long before she exited Hogwarts. Where she was going, tears would do her no good. She'd shed the last of her humanity in that dorm room, she didn't need it anymore.

Snape was barely visible in the darkness, his profile stood out in relief against the one lantern lighting the area around the gate. His face was completely blank and devoid of emotion as he stepped forward.

Ophelia knew for a fact the man was never without emotion. She'd never seen someone so filled with hate, self loathing and deep all encompassing despair before. Other than herself of course.

“You can still back out. We will not force you to do this.” Snape said without inflection. Showing no sign of caring one way or another. Of course, only the fact he couldn't continue his job as a spy had put her in the position of being his replacement. Ophelia bet the man held some bitterness over it, although failure was something that she had plenty of familiarity with as well, so who was she to judge? She couldn't afford to fail again, not now, not ever again.

Ophelia laughed bitterly, “Now? Now you want to ask me to withdraw? Once I've already gotten his attention?” She gripped her wand tightly, her knuckles whitening. “I'm already damned, leave me be to go do what I can!” She snapped, not impressed with the sudden appearance of a choice.

Snape almost looked sorry, but it might have been a trick of the light, Ophelia blinked, and there was nothing but impassive coal black eyes meeting her gaze. The potions professor nodding slowly, as if he'd expected nothing less.

“You've been the best student I ever had. Your mind should withstand significant probing from even the Dark Lord. Do not lower your guard. Ever. They are not your friends, they do not care, their loyalty is a farce meant to ensnare you deeper, do not falter. Remember why you're doing this.” Snape said with sudden fierceness, opening the gate with a wave of his hand.

Ophelia strode through without a look back.

…

“I'm sorry.” Was whispered out, almost impossible to hear over the wind.

No one was there to hear it.

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Ophelia strode down a dirty alleyway, garbage strewn everywhere, a flea bitten mutt scrounging amongst the refuse, scurrying off as she approached.

Within minutes she arrived at the dilapidated building she'd been told to seek out in the note she'd received.

Ophelia didn't bother knocking when she arrived, blasting the door in front of her and stepping through the remains, a haughty look on her face, eyes ice cold as she took in the dirty and dilapidated state of the interior. Snape had impressed upon her that displays of power were the most likely way to ensure her safety in the near future.

Once she was in, fully in. Power did not matter quite as much as intelligence and skill did, but for a beginner, power was a way to move yourself forward in consideration by quite a lot.

The location she had arrived at was a rundown bar in a small town not far from Hogsmeade, one obviously out of business from the state of the building. The wizard she was sent to meet was squatting in it, how undignified, she thought with distaste.

The walls were covered with enough dust and muck that she couldn't tell what their original color was, and the floor was covered with straw, like a tavern out of the middle ages, and just about as disease ridden, no doubt. Hardly any furniture in the place looked in good condition and everything but one table and the stairwell leading to the second floor - was covered in thick layers of dust.

“I'm sorry, I thought you were a wizard? Are you not capable of doing something about the state of our surroundings?” She drawled sarcastically, addressing the only man in the room. Even a fifth year Hogwarts student would be able to improve the locale significantly, which didn't say much about the man's skill in her mind.

Casually the man stood, attempting to loom over her, trying to impress a level of dominance that quite frankly, he didn't possess, puffing himself up to try and intimidate her. His smarmy smile was quite ruined by his yellowed teeth, and as he walked forward the few steps to stand in front of her, nothing could hide the coldness of his dead eyes that showed that she was dealing with a murderer. Nothing she hadn't expected, although it was still disconcerting to have a man such as that give her a greedy once over with obvious lust.

She raised her chin, looking down on the man even if he was taller than her, as he came to stand before her.

“You've been given to me to prove you are a worthy and loyal adherent to the cause.” The smarmy man said with what he no doubt thought was suaveness. The man stroked his small oily beard, as he observed her with hunger. Ophelia had no idea how long the man had been hanging around the outskirts of Hogsmeade, but he'd obviously developed an… Appetite.

She wondered briefly if he'd been behind the disappearance of muggleborn in Hogsmeade, she'd only known about it because her favorite tea shop had closed down, the sweetheart owners disappearing without a trace at the beginning of the school year. Darkly, she thought it likely. At least, it made it less likely she'd have to disappear someone she knew from Hogsmeade, if her favorites were already dead.

Not a nice thought, but she was all done with nice.

Ophelia sneered at him, “I am loyal or I wouldn't be here, and I have the requisite skills to be useful, do not look down on me.” She warned stiffly, ready to defend herself. She was willing to go undercover to ensure Tonks' would never face one of these monsters once she became an Auror. Protect her from the darkness by gathering the intelligence necessary to bring them down before a war would start again. But she wouldn't allow herself to be raped.

She'd seen the aftermath of that…

Never again.

What did it matter if the perpetrator got sent to Azkaban for it - and Ophelia had made sure of that! Even if she'd had to be talked out of killing him by Tonks… When the victim would have to live with it for the rest of their life it hardly seemed a fair trade for the bastard to live. Ophelia would not allow it to happen to her as well.

She would rather die!

“You may have heard of me, dear! Igor Karkaroff, headmaster of Durmstrang.” Igor said with a chilled smile, completely ignoring Ophelia's words, and either wilfully ignorant, or too stupid to not see her as a threat.

“Surely not anymore… They usually don't allow headmaster's to hunker in shacks, away from their school all year?” Ophelia fired back snidely, teeth bared, mind whirling at the identity of the Death Eater in front of her.

She might be dropped further in the deep end than she thought if she was to work with a known, practically unmasked Death Eater… Was that why he wasn't masked? Because so many believed him to be a Death Eater already? And if what the Slytherin contingent at Hogwarts had been gossiping about all year was true… A possible traitor. That made things dicey for her. Was this a test?

Would she pass by going along? Or by treating the man like the possible traitor he could be?

Igor Karkaroff glared at her with red spots appearing on his cheeks in either embarrassment or rage, “Girl, you're new, I'm a sworn in and loyal Death Eater, I'd advise you to think about your tone.” He growled, a calculating smirk appearing on his face, “Kneel, and put that mouth to good use, and I might still allow you to follow our Lord's will.”

Ophelia didn't for a moment question her next action. She'd trained with Snape for just this kind of situation, for how the Death Eaters acted with each other, especially when challenged. At least when one wasn't dealing with the inner circle, whose words were law.

“Crucio!” She snapped out, filled with enough hate and a wish to cause pain to achieve the spell with ease. Karkaroff, having no way to dodge from such close quarters, only had time for his eyes to widen, before the red crackling spell impacted him almost immediately, the Durmstrang headmaster howling in agony as he fell to the floor, spasming wildly.

Ophelia had practiced the spell on plenty of animals in the room of requirements under Snape’s tutelage. Of the three unforgivables. Crucio was the one she'd excelled at the best.

Ophelia stood over the sniveling worm, smiling coldly, while on the inside she let the small girl who'd once wanted to do nothing but grow flowers for the rest of her life, die. The woman that had been trained by Snape in the dark arts took over. And she hit Karkaroff with the unforgivable again just for good measure. She had to make this look good. Like she belonged naturally to these kinds of people.

To, in Snape's words. Emulate Bellatrix Lestrange.

“I am here to be useful to him, not you, worm! You're here no doubt because you have disappointed him. Why else would you be out of your cushy office?” She put her heeled boot on his chest, her wand aimed right between his eyes. Part of her enjoying the abject look of fear and hatred he was shooting her.

“Let's try this again. I am here to be of assistance. What can I do to assist you?” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the squirming headmaster. Or likely former headmaster at this point, “And watch what you say… I am not your servant…”

Snape had said to establish that she wasn't someone to mess with.

She hadn't expected to start so early. But this man was precisely the kind of man she couldn't stand.

Cowardly, misogynistic, a person that only picked on the weak.

He'd find something different with her.

Dumbledore had convinced her to sell her soul, she might as well go all in…

I'm sorry… Tonks…

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The next day, Headmaster's office, Hogwarts.

“I'm sorry. To me it seems you're telling me you talked a seventeen year old girl into going undercover with the Death Eaters.” Rufus Scrimgeour said flatly.

“In fact you trained her for it for months…. Without informing us…”

They were holding their now monthly status update meeting in the headmaster's office. Ensuring information was shared freely was necessary with such a risky trap they'd set - the DMLE, DOM and Order of Phoenix working together on the project. Rufus and Amelia knew that if they didn't hound Albus constantly, then said information would never leave the old man's mouth. They'd managed to get an Auror in as the new groundskeeper, but that was more for another set of eyes on the suspected parties than as a lever against Albus.

Even if of course he was also reporting back on Albus, just so the old man knew that they were watching.

Rufus had been sworn in on the little collab between the DMLE, the DOM and Albus, and he had a sinking feeling Amelia had done it just so Rufus could now be the one going to meetings exactly like this one.

It was bad enough he owed her five years worth of drinks since she somehow got an Auror in as the new groundskeeper… Rufus should know by now not to bet against her.

And with everything happening lately, they'd been able to convince Cornelius to allow an Auror contingent to openly serve at Hogwarts. Which again, Amelia had somehow pulled off, making Rufus owe her even more. Enough that he was begrudgingly not raising too much of a stink about having to look Snape in the eye once a month while not being allowed to hex him in the face.

Apparently they'd been too late anyway for all that, if this had been going on behind their backs for months… Rufus dearly wished they didn't need the headmaster, because right now a few curses he knew that were mostly legal would feel really good to let loose. He'd done some morally questionable things in the war, most of them had, it was sometimes necessary, but this was beyond any of that.

And after whatever the hell happened to the Weasley boys - they still had the nerve to risk another student.

Dumbledore and Snape, the only two other people in the office with him, kept their silence. Neither one looked like they wanted to be the one to explain themselves to the Head Auror.

Rufus did not approve of allowing that Death Eater in with them for these meetings, or with sharing information with him for that matter. But Dumbledore refused to play ball without his trusted associate, so here they were. All eating shit in the name of cooperation.

“What were you thinking!?” Rufus growled, half of a mind to grab his wand and hex the stupid out of them both anyway, regardless of consequences. “We lost five people to this stupidity during the war…” His eyes met Dumbledore's and he glared at the old man who was calmly assessing him, “And I know you lost two of your own trying to do the same.”

There's a reason they had so few successes in infiltrating the Death Eaters. Rufus wondered what in Merlin's name they expected a slip of a girl to achieve that full blown Aurors and Hit Wizards hadn't.

The less said about Dumbledore using civilians to try and infiltrate a terrorist organization the better.

They had not died well. Nor quickly.

“She was uniquely situated to take advantage of the fluid situation the Death Eaters are in with Lord Voldemort on the move again.” Dumbledore said calmly, hands serenely folded in front of him.

Snape took over, sitting slightly behind and to the right of the headmaster, “She has the pedigree, the skill and the necessary moral flexibility to appeal to him.” He said quietly, almost downcast. “Her family situation… Was ideal for giving her an excuse for seeking an outlet, and an out in general.”

If Rufus didn't know the bastard didn't possess a heart, he'd say the man looked saddened over the whole situation. Either way it didn't matter, Rufus was so hopping mad he could almost feel the tip of his beard catch aflame from sympathetic magic. “If you knew she had a horrid family life then you do something about it!” He roared, incensed. “You don't take advantage of a student and send her to certain death!” If she had a bad home life… That just made it all worse, they'd taken advantage of an unstable girl.

“She is seventeen, she's legally an adult.” Albus said, sagging slightly in his throne-like chair, looking like the decision weighed on him, Rufus couldn't care less, he'd still gone ahead and done it. “And whatever you believe of me right now Rufus. She was not blackmailed or pressured into this, I spoke to her about the possibility and she immediately volunteered.”

Rufus didn't bother replying, there was no real way to get Dumbledore to understand that a private meeting with him asking a student for help, was no different than pressuring them. Few want to say no to the great Albus Dumbledore. Especially when they're young and dumb and believe themselves immortal. The girl hadn't taken her NEWTs yet, so he wasn't going to go along with Albus claiming her an adult. “We will circle back to this.” He growled, eye twitching, “Amelia will want a word.” Rufus knew without a doubt that Amelia would blister Albus hide for this, even if due to necessity, their hands were tied in doing something about it. They needed Dumbledore.

Rufus was furious, but they only had so long for these meetings. If they ran too long, anyone watching might wonder why exactly the Head Auror was sticking around so long - and without a doubt, people within Hogwarts were watching. And of course getting Albus to leave Hogwarts for a meeting instead was useless, unless it was Wizengamot business and half the time even that was like pulling teeth - not worth the fight.

“The trap? Is it set?” He asked brusquely instead, not intending to waste any more time, the kneazle was out of the bag, he couldn't put it back in. The girl was for better or worse, already involved. And likely already doomed.

Rufus wondered briefly how many Hogwarts students deaths he'd have on his conscience in the end. If the trap worked… He hated to even think about it. But it would be worth it.

“It's already finished. I had time over the holidays.” Albus said, the sad smile on his face showing Rufus the old man was of the same mind as he was. Having the trap at Hogwarts was the only way to guarantee it would work as intended, but the risks…. They were gambling with student safety here… If they could guarantee it literally any other way, Rufus and Amelia wouldn't have gone along with this.

“We don't even know that the Dark Lord is here.” Snape muttered, ever willing to play the devil's advocate.

“He is.” Albus said with certainty, “He would not pass up a chance such as this.”

Rufus grunted with displeasure, “He better be. If all of this, us endangering students, making Hogwarts into Dark Lord bait… If it all ends with failure… We all will face Azkaban at the very least. And we'll deserve it.”

Rufus wasn't sure they didn't deserve it anyway. But if that happened. He'd accept his punishment without a quibble. As long as they succeeded it would be worth it. It had to be. They could not fight another war. They would win, he held no doubt. But the cost in lives would be catastrophic for the magical world.

“I have faith that we will prevail.” Albus said with a genial smile. Rufus and Snape snorted with disbelief at the same time, both men glaring at each other after.

“You still think it's Quirell?” Rufus asked, just wanting the meeting over and done with so he could go have a drink. He'd need one before Informing Amelia about the girl and that it had been hidden from them all year.

“Perhaps.” Albus said, noncommittally.

Snape shook his head, muttering to himself too low for Rufus to pick up on the words. But it didn't sound complimentary.

Rufus was so tired of these two. Nothing could ever be straightforward with them. His hackles raised already, he glared at Dumbledore.

“I want a bloody straight answer. No more previcarations out of either of you!” He growled.

Finally, Dumbledore seemed to dispense with the games, filling Rufus in on everything he believed.

Other than the hiccup with the student they'd sent to bloody well die, it seemed they had it well in hand…

Thank Merlin for something going right, Rufus thought acerbically.

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When Rufus finally left, after going on another tirade first about them not sharing information on an equal level in their partnership, Dumbledore and Snape enjoyed the silence for a few minutes, both men lost in thought.

At least the Head Auror had begrudgingly agreed to work to keep this whole affair out of the Daily Prophet, far as anyone at Hogwarts and beyond will know, she was withdrawn for personal study for her NEWTs. Dumbledore would deal with keeping the parents silenced. With what he knew about them since bringing Miss Onai onboard… He would for once, not feel bad about blackmailing someone.

“He's right, we shouldn't have done it.” Snape finally said, looking like he was reluctant to speak out, like he had to drag the words out.

Dumbledore grimaced slightly, eyes dulling in sadness at the sacrifice, however willing it had been, by Ophelia Onai. “Tell me this, Severus. You've been in touch with Tom's mind more than anyone during your time with him - would Tom ever suspect me of sending a student to infiltrate his people, for me to be that cruel?”

Snape didn't even have to pause in thought, answering immediately, with defeat, “No, he would not think you capable of it.” He agreed.

Dumbledore smiled grimly, “I did not think myself capable either. If Miss Onai hadn't been so eager to jump at the chance, I doubt I'd have been able to push forward on it after I suggested it in the summer.” He admitted guiltily, slumping slightly.

“It's war.” Snape said succinctly.

They both sat in silence, the sky outside darkening as evening turned into night.

“War makes monsters out of all of us.” Dumbledore said softly, Snape not replying, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Notably he did not speak up to disagree.

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They're not yours.

Those words echoed in Arthur Weasley's head as he stood in the dim light of the burrow, watching the children sleep. The youngest set of twins, Fabian and Gideon. The children that the authorities said were not his.

After Ron had been turned into the Professors, one day at Hogwarts, transfigured as a rat, memories of the last few years mostly missing, the rest scrambled, as one unspeakable had put it - like someone had made scrambled eggs with his brain. They'd all been put under the lens. The Unspeakables and the Auror’s investigated the whole family, just as a precaution they had said. They didn't expect to find something. Neither had Arthur.

How naive he'd been. How safe he'd thought they were. Now Bill and Charlie had both moved back home to help with the family, giving up their careers in this crisis, and Fred and George floated around the house, almost scared to even make noise, shells of their normal boisterous selves as they suffered through the aftermath of the findings.

Ginny barely left her room anymore. Too heartbroken to step out and interact with Ron, a Ron that hardly even recognized her anymore, not as she was.

Without Bill and Charlie returning… Arthur wasn't sure he'd have been able to handle it. The hits came in too fast, one after another.

Arthur had never felt as such a failure of man as he did now. He'd always known his fascination with muggles was limiting him at the Ministry, which in turn limited his family, but he'd believed the love they held for each other made up for any perceived lack of money.

Now he couldn't help but think that his long hours at the Ministry lay behind his family’s misfortune. How he'd somehow missed… Everything.

How someone had targeted his family, and he hadn't even noticed… They didn't even know who. Or if they'd be back.

The Burrow was under Auror guard at the moment, just in case. Even Dumbledore had offered to send some of the old guard to hang around once the Aurors eventually left.

Dumbledore… Arthur knew it was wrong of him to feel bitterness towards the headmaster. He himself had not noticed anything wrong with Ron or Percy, so how could he expect the headmaster to have noticed. He wasn't omnipotent. Yet the feeling lingered, Dumbledore was supposed to be better.

Ron would likely never be able to go to Hogwarts now, not without serious help, which Arthur couldn't, to his chagrin, afford. His precious boy had regressed in age by almost half his age, and he wasn't overly stable at that either. His memories all over the place. He hadn't even recognized Charlie for the first few days, to his older son's horror.

If that was it, the horror would be devastating enough, they could attempt to make something out of it. But it didn't end there. Merlin, how much did I miss! He thought with despair. Tears gathering behind his glasses.

Percy… Arthur closed his eyes, holding back the tears with great effort, not wanting to wake the twins. If Ron had regressed in age… Percy was practically not a person anymore according to the experts. The Unspeakables had taken one look in his mind, and had bundled him off. Arthur hadn't seen him since. The sympathetic Auror that explained it all to him, said it was unlikely he'd ever return to normality, having been obliviated so often and to such a point, that he'd suffered a death of personality.

Whatever personality that had been rebuilt to enough of a standard he'd been able to continue to function at Hogwarts and at home, wasn't his son. Not anymore.

He'd let Percy die. And hadn't even noticed. He was the worst father ever.

Arthur just wanted his son back. But for now, the Unspeakables had refused. And Arthur could only fight so much, with Ron and everything else to worry about. It didn't mean he'd give up. Never again. But he'd have to find another avenue.

He sank back against the wall, feeling sick to his stomach. His twins… They'd done tests, and the results had come back as them having another father. He didn't believe even for a second that Molly had cheated on him. He'd seen the sick devastated look on her face when she'd found out.

Two of his children weren't his… And it meant Molly… His Mollywobbles… Had been raped and obliviated. Why had he never questioned how she got pregnant again when they'd both decided they wouldn't have anymore children?

How much had he missed? How had he let this happen? Why hadn't he done something? Asked more questions?

He heard her before she came in, the creaky step on the stairs announcing her coming arrival. He could barely look at her. He'd failed her too.

“Arthur, come to bed. You have a long day with the meeting with the Minister and everything tomorrow.” Molly said quietly, looking pale and gaunt, similarly to what Arthur looked like. No one at the Burrow was doing great at the moment.

Arthur would be trying to get Percy back by pushing against Fudge. He had to try. It was his son! He put a hand against the wall and gingerly straightened himself up. The exhaustion in his frame was beginning to become his new normal. Sleep eluded him, he kept fearing he'd wake up to find another family member destroyed.

He stepped forward and kissed the foreheads of his sleeping wonders. Thanking Merlin and anyone that would listen that they were safe, at least. They might not have his blood. But they were Weasley's, they were his. He wouldn't let any more harm come to his family.

Molly sniffled in the background. Arthur quickly stepped to her as she practically fell into his arms, crying silently so she wouldn't wake them.

If Arthur ever found the monster that had done this to his family. He'd be able to fire his first ever unforgivable.

His eyes were hard even as he held his wife and inwardly planned for his meeting with the Minister.

And he wouldn't even hesitate to fire it if given the opportunity, he knew.

He just needed one chance. Just one second with the bastard who did this.

Arthur Weasley would not fail his family again.

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