28
In the months following their visit to Scotland, Voldemort found himself noticing... changes. Not in the stones, or the project's progress, but in how he perceived his young ward. Where once he had viewed her merely as an amusing diversion – a quick mind to challenge, an experiment in magical theory – he now found himself aware of her in ways that were...unsettling.
He watched her from his study window as she crossed the grounds, her usual stack of books in hand. There was a quiet grace to her movements, a subtle confidence that hadn't been there when she first arrived. She had carved out her place in his world with remarkable adaptability, yet...
Later that afternoon, Narcissa found herself summoned to his study – a rare occurrence that usually preceded major social events.
"My Lord," she bowed gracefully. "How may I serve you?"
"Alice's progress," he began, then paused, as if reconsidering his approach. "That is to say... her development..."
"She excels in all her duties," Narcissa responded promptly. "Her conduct at social functions is exemplary, and her preparation for Samhain is proceeding—"
"No," he cut her off, an edge of frustration in his voice. "Not her duties. Her... wellbeing."
Narcissa's carefully maintained composure slipped for just a moment, her eyes widening fractionally before she recovered. "Her... wellbeing, my Lord?"
"What do young women her age typically do?" The question seemed to pain him slightly. "Besides study. Besides court functions."
"Well," Narcissa chose her words with extreme care, still thrown by this unprecedented line of questioning, "traditionally, young ladies might enjoy social gatherings with their peers. At her age, having a close friend would be..." she hesitated, then continued delicately, "beneficial. Someone she could confide in, share experiences with."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "She has adequate companionship."
"Of course, my Lord," Narcissa agreed smoothly. "But perhaps someone closer to her own age. Young Miss Greengrass, for example, has expressed admiration for Alice's wit..."
He waved this away impatiently. "What else?"
"Some pursue artistic interests – music, perhaps. Shopping excursions to Paris or Milan..." She trailed off, noting the slight frown forming between his eyes.
"And you believe she lacks these... opportunities?" His tone was carefully neutral.
"My Lord," Narcissa ventured carefully, "while Alice seems content with her studies and duties, perhaps some experiences more typical of her age might benefit her development. She is still very young."
"Young," he repeated the word as if it were foreign to him. After a moment of contemplation, he asked, "Would it be... detrimental to her, the lack of such activities?"
Narcissa felt as though she had stepped into an alternate reality. The Dark Lord, asking after a young girl's social needs? "While Alice appears to thrive in her current role," she said diplomatically, "some experiences typical of her age might... round out her education."
His expression grew distant, thoughtful. "I see."
The conversation with Narcissa lingered in his mind, an irritating distraction from more pressing matters. Young women her age should be... what, exactly? Shopping in Paris? Playing music? The very notion seemed absurd.
And yet.
He found himself watching her more closely over the next few days. The way she moved through his world with such careful precision, as if one misstep might shatter everything she'd built. Always studying, always striving to prove her worth. When was the last time she'd simply... existed, without purpose or pretense?
The thought shouldn't have bothered him. She was his ward, yes, but ultimately a piece in a larger game. Her comfort, her happiness – these things were irrelevant to his plans.
Weren't they?
He remembered her face when she'd first seen the ocean, that pure, unguarded joy. How alive she'd looked, freed for a moment from the weight of expectations. It had stirred something in him then, something he'd dismissed as mere curiosity.
But now...
"A friend," Voldemort said the word as if it tasted foreign on his tongue. He stood at his study window, watching Alice read beneath her usual tree in the gardens.
Antonin looked up from the tactical maps spread across the massive oak table, where he'd been plotting the planned annexation of certain holdings in the western territories. "Narcissa suggested this?"
"Apparently Miss Greengrass would be... suitable." Voldemort's tone suggested what he thought of that idea.
Antonin set down his quill, considering. He and Voldemort had spent decades planning together, reading each other's thoughts with the ease of long partnership. But this conversation about the necessities of a young girl… this, neither of them knew.
"The northern territories require regular inspection," Antonin said finally, turning back to his maps. "The resonance patterns here," he tapped a particular intersection of ley lines, "and here, need monitoring."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Indeed."
"Perhaps..." Antonin marked another point on the map with practiced precision, "if Miss Greengrass showed academic promise, she might accompany Alice during such inspections. For educational purposes, of course."
"Of course." Voldemort's lips curved slightly. "Purely academic."
"The girl did seem... livelier after seeing the coast," Antonin added, noting how his Lord's expression shifted at the memory. "And having a companion might make such trips more... beneficial."
"Beneficial," Voldemort repeated, moving to examine the map Antonin had been working on. "Yes, I suppose regular inspections would be... prudent. The stones require careful monitoring."
"Weekly, perhaps," Antonin suggested, adding another notation to the map. "And if Miss Greengrass happened to share Alice's interest in magical theory..."
"Then it would be... practical to include her." Voldemort's tone suggested he was quite pleased with this logical solution to the friendship dilemma. "After all, we wouldn't want to neglect the educational development of our young pure-bloods."
"Of course not, my Lord." Antonin continued his precise markings, though his lips twitched slightly. "Shall I begin arranging the expeditions?"
"Yes." Voldemort studied the map with renewed interest. "Though I shall... oversee these expeditions personally. To ensure proper academic standards are maintained."
"Naturally," Antonin agreed, adding another careful notation. "Purely for academic purposes."
"The stones in Scotland are merely one example," Voldemort said, studying the world map now spread across his desk. Antonin watched as his Lord's fingers traced various points across the continents. "The ancients built similar structures at points where ley lines intersect across the globe. Stonehenge, the Pyramids, Machu Picchu..."
"All potential conducting points," Antonin observed, marking each location with precise movements of his wand. "Though accessing some of these sites might prove... complicated."
"On the contrary." Voldemort's lips curved slightly. "The magical communities at these locations are quite eager to... cooperate with our research. After all," his eyes glinted, "what better way to study ancient magic than to share knowledge across borders?"
Antonin's quill paused over the map. "And the girl?"
"Her sensitivity to magical energies makes her... uniquely qualified to assist in these studies." Voldemort's tone was carefully measured. "It would be wasteful not to explore such a phenomenon."
"Of course." Antonin kept his expression neutral, though he noticed how his Lord's gaze drifted to the window where Alice could be seen in the gardens below. "And Miss Greengrass?"
"Will accompany us when appropriate." Voldemort's tone suggested he had no intention of sharing all these expeditions with anyone else. "Some sites require more... discrete observation."
Antonin nodded, adding another notation to the map. They both knew these excursions had little to do with Miss Greengrass or even the vessel project itself, but neither would acknowledge it directly.
"I'll arrange the international portkeys," Antonin said finally. "Starting with Egypt, perhaps? The pyramids' alignment with celestial bodies during the approaching equinox might prove... enlightening."
"Yes," Voldemort agreed, though his thoughts seemed elsewhere. "After all, we wouldn't want our little scholar's education to be... provincial."