16
Weeks after the solstice gathering, Alice found herself in an oddly domestic scene. She sat in her usual window seat in the library, a tome of magical theory open in her lap, while Nagini basked in a patch of winter sunlight nearby. The great snake had taken to following her occasionally, which Alice suspected was equal parts protection and surveillance.
The Prophet lay beside her, its headlines still trumpeting the implications of the solstice gathering. "DARK LORD'S MUGGLE WARD HERALDS NEW ERA," one declared. Another read, "MINISTER'S GIFT FINDS UNEXPECTED FAVOR." The words made her stomach turn. She supposed however, that was precisely what she was: peace offering, a tribute to appease a conquering king. She could almost laugh now at herself, thinking back to when she had thought herself a pretty young bride sent to charm some lonely wizard lord, to give heirs, and live in peace and harmony.
Yet hadn't she found something more valuable than peace here? Understanding, certainly. Power, of a sort, though not the kind that flowed through wands. And something else – a peculiar freedom that came with knowing exactly where one stood in the grand scheme of things.
"Your thoughts are loud enough to wake the dead," came his voice from the doorway. "Or at least disturb Nagini's nap."
Alice looked up to find Voldemort watching her with that familiar mixture of amusement and calculation. "My apologies, my Lord. I was just reading about myself." She gestured to the Prophet. "Apparently, I'm either a symbol of hope or impending doom, depending on which page you read."
"And which do you believe yourself to be?" He moved into the room with that liquid grace that still captivated her.
"Neither," she admitted. "Though I suspect that's rather the point."
His laugh was soft but genuine – a sound that occurred more frequently these days. "Clever girl." He settled into his usual chair. "Lady Malfoy reports that you've received several invitations from the old families."
"Yes," Alice confirmed, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Though I notice they arrived after seeing how you presented me at the solstice, not before."
"Naturally." His eyes gleamed with approval at her observation. "Power recognizes power, little scholar. Or in this case, power recognizes what power values."
She met his gaze steadily. "And what exactly do you value, my Lord?"
"That," he replied, "is precisely the question that keeps our guests awake at night." He paused, studying her. "You've been quiet since the gathering. Does the Minister's warning trouble you still?"
Alice considered her words carefully. "Not his warning, exactly. More... the realization that I know nothing of what's happening in the muggle world. He spoke of my duty to my people, but I'm not even sure what that means anymore."
"Your people," Voldemort repeated, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. "The same people who handed you over as a peace offering? Who wrapped you in pretty lies about bridging worlds as a silly little muggle bride?"
"As opposed to the people who collect blood oaths like party favors?" The words slipped out before she could stop them.
But instead of anger, his expression showed that dangerous amusement she'd grown familiar with. "Now, now. One might think you're developing opinions about magical customs."
"Heaven forbid," she murmured, earning a huff.
A house-elf appeared with tea – Earl Grey for her, something darker for him. She thanked the elf, hearing his silent scoff. They had fallen into these strange routines lately, these moments of almost-comfortable conversation that made her forget, briefly, what he was. What she was.
"The magical world suits you," he observed after a moment. "More than they anticipated. More than you anticipated, I suspect."
"Does that please you?" she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. "Knowing they miscalculated? I suppose it's not every day a non-magical muggle finds a place in the magical world."
"True," he replied, his tone carrying that dangerous amusement she recognized. "Squibs face similar challenges, yet they often fall between worlds, belonging to neither. You, however, have managed to carve out a niche."
"Have I?" she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. "Or am I simply an anomaly, tolerated for your amusement?"
He chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to surprise them both. "An anomaly, perhaps. But one with potential.
His expression shifted subtly, becoming more contemplative. "Tell me, what do you make of your Minister's... concerns?"
Alice took a careful sip of tea, buying time to organize her thoughts. "He wants me to remember my duty to the muggle world. To help protect them, I suppose. Though from what, exactly, he wasn't clear."
"Wasn't he?" Voldemort's smile was razor-sharp. "Consider your position carefully, little scholar. Consider what you've learned about power, about the nature of magic itself. About how easily the boundaries between worlds can... blur."
She felt a chill run down her spine, remembering the blood oaths at the solstice, the ancient magic that had thrummed through the hall. "You mean to change things. Not just politics, but... everything."
"Change is inevitable," he replied smoothly. "The only question is whether one chooses to be the agent of that change, or its victim." He studied her over the rim of his teacup. "You have a choice to make, Alice. About where you stand when those changes come."
"The Minister thinks I can help protect them," she said softly. "My people."
His laugh was cold this time. "The Minister is a fool who believes he can negotiate with the tide. But you..." he leaned forward slightly, "you're far more interesting. You understand the nature of power, even if you may not have it. The question is, will you let his misplaced guilt influence your choices?"
"And if I did?" She met his gaze steadily. "Try to help them?"
"Then you would be wise to remember," he replied, his voice dropping to a silken whisper, "that nature does not concern itself with the preferences of its prey."
Alice felt her breath catch. The warning was clear, but something in his phrasing made her wonder – was she the prey in this scenario, or was he suggesting the muggles were? Or perhaps both?
His smile suggested he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Consider it carefully, little scholar.