The Darkness Within: Voldemort/Hadria Potter

Suspicion

The headmaster settled into his high-backed chair, the room's dim light casting shadows across his lined face. His gnarled fingers unwrapped a lemon drop, and he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, lost in thought. Severus Snape's revelation had sent a chill through him...an unsettling premonition of events to come.

He popped the lemon drop into his mouth, savoring the tangy sweetness before he spoke.

"Voldemort instructed all of you...not to touch her?"

Severus inclined his head, his expression unreadable. "Indeed," he confirmed. "He did not divulge his reasons, nor did anyone dare question him. I got the distinct impression he wasn't about to share his reasonings regardless. He simply stated that he had some new information that had changed the focus of war from her..."

"Do you truly believe that he knows...the truth of the matter?" Dumbledore's voice wavered, betraying his unease. His palm rubbed nervously against his thigh, a telltale sign of his inner turmoil.

Severus raised an eyebrow, lips pursed almost in amusement. He enjoyed seeing the Headmaster squirm, for all his careful planning he had not accounted for this twist.

"What other reason would he have?" Severus countered. "He could have killed her there in the graveyard as well. I believe...he may have realized it then. Why else would he not have simply ended it when he had the chance?"

Dumbledore rose from his chair, arms folding behind his back. The room seemed to close in on him, memories of battles fought and sacrifices made etched into the very walls. He stepped toward the window, gazing out into the night. The wizarding world had bled, and he couldn't allow it to be in vain.

"Hadria will remain at the Dursleys," Dumbledore declared, his voice resolute.

"So long as the blood magic shields her. Except during her school years, of course. We may not fully understand Voldemort's intentions, but if he indeed knows the truth, then Hadria is...relatively safe there. Perhaps it's best to keep her at a distance, away from our original plans. For now."

Severus nodded, ready to leave, but then hesitated. "After all these years," he said, "you've never divulged the rest of the prophecy to me. Is it not time to...open up on the matter?"

Dumbledore remained facing the window, the moonlight casting shadows on his lined face. The damned prophecy...the words that hung like a sword over their heads. Sybill may be a Seer...but if the rest of the prophecy were to see the light of day then it may stop people from doing what must be done. There was too much at risk to trust it.

"It is best, Severus," he replied softly. "That the prophecy remain unknown. I fear it may risk our success in this war."

Severus wished in that moment he could read Dumbledore's mind. His loyalty to the cause burned with the intensity of a thousand suns...a desire for revenge against the man who had snuffed out the woman he had loved: Lily. But beneath that seething anger, his instincts whispered of deeper currents. Something was amiss, veiled in shadows and half-truths.

"Very well, Headmaster," Severus murmured, his voice as cold as the dungeons. He turned, the hem of his black cape swirling, and slipped out of the room. The door closed behind him, muffling the old wizard's thoughts. But Severus knew...Dumbledore was a master of secrets, a weaver of intricate webs. And this particular thread, the one involving Hadria and the prophecy, was frayed and fragile.