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“Why hasn’t she been found?” Voldemort screamed in anger and frustration.

He’d been restored to his former health and had been back for over four months, and still his daughter had not been found. There was obviously some very powerful magick concealing the whereabouts of his elusive daughter.

“We’ve searched, my Lord,” replied one of Voldemort’s cowering subjects. “The Ministry of Magic has kept her identity a carefully guarded secret.”

“The Ministry of Magic is comprised of incompetent fools,” Voldemort spat. “I want her found!”

“Rumour has it that she was given to a muggle family,” MacNair said. MacNair had worked for the Ministry of Magic until only recently.

Voldemort sneered, a disgusted look coming over his face.

“Voldemort’s daughter raised as a Muggle?” he questioned, sounding outraged. “An insult, if ever I’ve heard one. That will make it more difficult in locating her though.”

“Perhaps the Ministry decided to place her at Hogwarts,” Lucius Malfoy suggested.

“Nonsense,” Voldemort replied. “That girl will be powerful beyond measure. More powerful than even I have ever been. The Ministry may be made up of fools, but even they would never allow her to be educated in the ways of magick.”

Malfoy nodded, bowing before Voldemort. “Forgive me for my impudence, master.”

Voldemort waved his hand absently, not paying too much attention to Malfoy.

“Perhaps,” Voldemort began thoughtfully, “Perhaps there would be someone at Hogwarts who would know where she is.”

“Dumbledore” Malfoy asked.

Voldemort nodded and stroked his chin. He scanned the room as though searching for a brilliant idea.

“We’d need access to the school,” he mused. “Someone who wouldn’t be noticed.”

Voldemort’s eyes settled on something behind Peter Pettigrew, but the short and stocky man panicked.

“My lord…honoured though I am-”

“Quiet!” Voldemort barked. “I wouldn’t send you in if you were the last person on earth Wormtail.”

The animagus sighed with relief and turned to follow Voldemort’s gaze. Resting peacefully behind him was a snake that was 12 feet long.

“Nagini.”

The snake lifted its head, its tongue flickering.

“I have a job for you,” Voldemort said, parseltongue coming from his mouth with ease. “I need you to keep watch over Dumbledore’s office.”

Nagini nodded, understanding the request. It uncurled itself and slithered slowly from the room, Voldemort watching it leave, hoping for good news. He knew his daughter wasn’t dead, he could feel it in his bones. IT would only be a matter of time before Elizabeth Temdrolvo Riddle was seated at his right hand where she belonged.

Harry awoke with a start, his scare burning ferociously. He touched it gently, trying to sooth it but he found no relief. He quietly threw off his bedcovers and scrambled around the darkened room trying to find his invisibility cloak without waking up Ron and the others.

When he’d finally located the well-used cloak, he slipped it over himself and crept out the door and into the hallway. He made his way out of the common room and through the portrait, eagre to make it to the owlery co he could send an owl to his godfather Sirius.

Sirius Black had told Harry on many occasions to make sure that he was kept informed of even the slightest tingle from Harry’s scar. Harry had given Sirius his word to do so, and he wasn’t about to break it. The problem was, that Hedwig had taken off to the owlery for the evening, rather than staying in Harry’s room where she usually slept.

He made it to the staircases without seeing anyone, but when he caught the sound of two familiar voices, he stopped dead in his tracks. He moved to stand behind a large concrete statue, remembering that Dumbledore had a knack for knowing when Harry was there, even with the cloak covering every inch of his body.

“Are you certain this is wise Dumbledore?” Cornelius Fudge asked nervously. “You-Know-Who has just returned, and you think it wise to bring his child to Hogwarts?”

Harry held back a shocked gasp, his hand covering his mouth to keep him from making a sound. Voldemort had a child?! He hadn’t known that. He wondered whether Ron or Hermione knew…

“It is perfectly safe,” Dumbledore assure the worried Minister. “I would never have permitted it otherwise.”

“But at such a time?” Fudge persisted. “Surely it would be best-”

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence Fudge, and for a moment, Harry was certain that he’d been caught. Dumbledore however walked past the place where Harry had pressed himself into the corner of the wall and the statue.

“It is my decision Cornelius,” Dumbledore said. “And that is final. Like I said, you are free to talk to the child if you would like. Though why you must insist on doing it this very moment is beyond me.”

A bell sounded from within the castle. Two am.

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore continued, “this would be left until morning.”

Cornelius Fudge hesitated but finally nodded. “First thing tomorrow though. The Ministry just wants to ensure that your students are safe with that…spawn of evil in the castle.”

Fudge and Dumbledore continued down the corridors until Harry could no longer hear what was being said. He let out a shaky breath and touched his hand to his forehead to wipe away the nervous sweat that had formed. He suddenly realised that his scar had stopped burning.

He finished his trek to the owlery and scribbled a note to Sirius, asking him about Voldemort’s child as well as informing his godfather about the burning of the scar. He attached the note to Hedwig’s leg, petting his pet gently. Hedwig nipped gently at Harry’s fingers, gave a soft hoot and flew off into the darkened sky, leaving Harry to scurry back to bed before he was spotted.

Harry kept his eyes on the Slytherin table all morning, just waiting for someone to be called to Dumbledore’s office. No one had been late coming in to breakfast, and Harry was certain that no one was missing.

“Where’s Buffy?” Ron asked, his mouth full of toast.

“Haven’t seen her,” Harry replied absently, his eyes still fixed on the other table.

“Hermione?”

Hermione looked up at Ron and shook her head. “She’d already left by the time I got up,” Hermione answered. She looked across at Harry who was frowning as he looked at the Slytherins. “Are you looking for someone?”

Harry looked up, unaware that he’d been so obvious in his search.

“No. No on in particular.”

Ron too looked at his best friend curiously.

“What’s got you so worked up? You can’t possibly be having glaring matches with Malfoy. He’s still scared stiff of Buffy,” Ron said, chuckling a little.

“I’m just…” Harry didn’t know how to explain it. Voldemort had a child and he hadn’t known! The thought of it had kept him up for most of the night. He glanced around the table and decided that Buffy should be in on this as well. “I’ll explain later. When Buffy’s here. And when it’s quieter.”

Ron ad Hermione weren’t happy about having to wait but they understood it. Whatever it was, they knew it must have been important.

“Hey people,” a cheerful voice greeted them. “Didja save me anything?”

Buffy took a seat beside Harry and piled food onto her plate.

“Where’d you get to this morning?” Hermione asked curiously.

Buffy shrugged and swallowed a bite of food before answering.

“Just talking with Giles. He thinks that six am is a good time to start training. I tried to convince him that Sunday should be a day of rest, but…he didn’t particularly like that argument,” Buffy said easily.

In truth, she’d been in Dumbledore’s office from about six am until now. Cornelius Fudge had been asking her every question he could possibly think of, trying to get her to reveal her ‘evil side’. When he’d been convinced, albeit it reluctantly, of Buffy’s mental stability, she’d been allowed to leave. It had taken nearly three hours.

“You still train?” Ron asked curiously.

Buffy nodded. It wasn’t exactly a lie. She and Giles were still training in martial arts and her combat skills, they just hadn’t been doing it that morning.

“Yeah,” Buffy replied. “I mean, I may as well, right? You never know when trouble’s gonna come up.”

Ron groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes. “You sound just like Mad-Eye Moody,” he complained.

“Who’s that?” Buffy asked.

“The DADA Professor from last year,” Hermione explained.

“Bloody loony that one,” Ron added.

“Not to mention that he was really one of Vol – uh, I mean, one of You-Know-Who’s supporters in disguise,” Harry said, finally drawing himself away from the Slytherin table long enough to add to the conversation.

The rapid-fire explanation was a little too fast for Buffy to follow without asking for more details, and she wasn’t sure that she really wanted to know. Especially if it had anything to do with Voldemort.

Ron turned his attention to the front table where the Professors were seated. He was startled to see Cornelius Fudge at the table seated beside Dumbledore.

“I wonder what Fudge is doing here,” Ron said, pointing up to the head table.

Hermione, Harry and Buffy all turned to look to where Ron had pointed.

“Maybe he’s just checking to make sure everything’s safe,” Hermione said. “What with You-Know-Who rising again.”

“Who’s Fudge?” Buffy asked.

She hated lying, but if she looked to know who he was, it would only raise questions as to how she’d known him.

“He’s the head of the Ministry of Magic,” Ron replied. “Cornelius Fudge.”

Buffy nodded and went back to her toast. After several bites, she turned her attention to an unusually silent Harry,

“You alright Harry?” Buffy asked.

Harry nodded and tried to pull himself out of his thoughtful stupor.

“Yeah,” he replied, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. “I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep too well.”

The group made their way outside, the sun peaking through the clouds every few minutes before hiding behind light grey clouds that signified a light storm for the evening. The group sat themselves under a large oak tree, Hermione resting her head in Ron’s lap.

“So, what did you want to tell us, Harry?” Ron asked.

Buffy looked up curiously. “You were going to tell us something?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, answering both his friends. “Did any of you know that Vol…that You-Know-Who had a child?”

The others went deathly silent and Buffy tried not to completely panic. Hermione sat up, a worried look on her face.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked. “That’s not just some rumour is it?”

“I heard it from Fudge and Dumbledore, so I’d say it’s fairly validated,” Harry replied. “So…none of you knew?”

“No!” Ron cried, his voice breaking a little as panic rose in his chest. “And what’d they tell you for?”

Harry looked away sheepishly and Hermione clucked her tongue in reprimand.

“They didn’t tell you, did they? You weren’t sneaking around the castle again, were you?”

“No!” Harry replied indignantly. “I was trying to send a letter to Sirius. My scar woke me up again.”

Buffy looked towards Harry, her eyes immediately drawn to the lightning bolt scar on the boy’s forehead.

“Woke you up?” Buffy repeated.

Harry nodded and tried to think of a way to explain it without making him sound insane. Hermione saw Harry’s dilemma and jumped in before Harry could explain.

“His scar starts hurting whenever You-Know-Who is anywhere close by. Or when he’s thinking of killing Harry,” Hermione added.

Buffy went pale because of both parts of Hermione’s explanation. She didn’t want Voldemort to be anywhere near Hogwarts anymore than she wanted Voldemort to be plotting Harry’s demise.

“And now You-Know-Who’s got a kid,” Ron stated with displeasure. “Wonder what he’s like. More evil than that git Malfoy, I reckon.”

“So that’s why you were staring at the Slytherins all morning,” Hermione cried. “You think it’s one of them.”

“Who else could it be?” Ron asked. “AS if You-Know-Who’s kid’s gonna be in any other house besides Slytherin! Can you imagine them being in Gryffindor? Ha! What a joke!”

Buffy was shaking and doing a tremendous job of hiding it. There three were more curious than the Scoobies had ever been. They were quick to find out information. They had one downfall though. They assumed things too easily. Ron had assumed that the child was male and a Slytherin, both of which were incredibly false.

“Why would they be let into Hogwarts?” Hermione asked.

“Dumbledore’s probably got his reasons,” Buffy replied casually, thankful that her voice wasn’t shaking.

Hermione nodded her agreement.

“Buffy’s right. If Dumbledore trusts this person, whoever he is, then we shouldn’t be making something out of nothing,” Hermione said.

“Fudge was worried,” Harry said.

Hermione’s face fell. “Oh.”

The group went into silent contemplation for a few moments.

“Makes you kind of appreciate your own parents, though,” Ron mused. “Imagine growing up with that as your dad.”

“Wait on a minute,” Harry said. “Vol…You-Know-Who’s been technically almost dead for the last thirteen years. Where would this kid have grown up?”

“Well,” Ron started uncertainly, “he’d hafta have a mum somewhere, right?”

“Or anyone of You-Know-Who’s supporters,” Hermione said.

“Malfoy!” Ron spat angrily.

Hermione turned to Ron, her eyes blazing. “Draco Malfoy is not You-Know-Who’s son!”

Ron immediately deflated, knowing that there was no way that Draco would keep something like that a secret.

“We’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”

Nagini curled up in Dumbledore’s office, not knowing that she’d just missed the one conversation tat would have told her absolutely everything that she’d needed to know about Voldemort’s daughter.

She curled herself into an unobtrusive coil atop a cupboard and set out to wait patiently.

Harry and a tall sandy-haired boy crept slowly what looked to be a graveyard. Both of them were nervous,

“Wands out, d’you reckon?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, pulling out his wand and feeling slightly safer with it in his hand. They kept moving forward, both of them looking around for any sign of life.

“Someone’s coming,” Harry said.

Someone was approaching, holding a small bundle. As the figure got closer, Harry’s scar flashed with pain that he wasn’t familiar with. He fell to his knees, the other boy looking at him with worry.

A cold and deep voice could be heard swirling around them.

“Kill the spare.”

A second voice sounded through the air. “Avada Kedavra!”

A green light flashed and the sandy-haired boy fell to the ground, spread-eagled beside Harry. He was dead!

Buffy awoke with a start, panting and sweating badly. The nightmares were getting worse, and she just couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone about them. If they really were what she thought they were, Harry’s nightmares, she wanted to keep it to herself. If sharing nightmares meant that she was going nuts, or that she was actually evil incarnate, she didn’t want anyone else to know, not even Giles.

Hedwig soared into Harry’s room and dropped a short letter onto Harry’s bed. Ron looked over curiously as Harry picked up the envelope and read quickly.

Harry,

If your scar hurts again, see Dumbledore immediately. As for You-Know-Who having a child, I wasn’t aware of it. Keep your eyes open Harry. They’ll probably be in Slytherin, so just be careful. Send word of your first Hogsmeade weekend, and I’ll try to meet you.

Snuffles.

“What’d he say?” Ron asked.

“Pretty much what Hermione said,” Harry replied. “That we should be on the look out for this person whoever they are. And that he thought that whoever it is will be in Slytherin.”

Ron nodded and flopped onto his bed.

“Wonder who he is…”

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