A/N: Yes, I still skulk among the living. Unfortunately the last several months have been very difficult for me, so I haven't been able to write. I thought I'd taken a moment to breath and update some of the stories for you all. I know this is short after such a long wait, but I hope it is good.

Rose Basilisk

Chapter 35

Dark Lord's Lair

Tom swept into the large ballroom he used for full Death Eater meetings. There was chaos as the outer circle members whispered to each other. Inner circle members bowed as they noticed their lord enter the room, headed for his dias. When he reached it, Tom turned to face his minions.

"Enough," he said. His words chilled the air, freezing his minions voiced in their throats. He so loved magic. "I want a report on what happened to Greyback's pack. Severus, now."

Snape stepped forward and bowed low.

"The Order was not informed of this raid on Wolf camps, my Lord," he stated. "It, as far as the Order and I know, was strictly a Ministry raid. It seems some members of the Order were involved but only those working in the departments where the raid was organized. From what Dumbledore can tell, it was rather spur of the moment and was pushed for by Fudge and Umbridge."

"Malfoy, can you confirm this?" Tom said as he dismissed Snape back to his position. The regal blond bowed low.

"I'm ashamed to say I cannot at the moment, My Lord," he replied. "All the contacts I would use are currently unavailable. This, however, gives credence that Snape's report is indeed accurate."

"You will report when you regain communication with your resources, Lucius," Tom said. Malfoy backed away to his space beside Snape.

"I want every Death Eater in the Ministry to figure out how this happened without our knowing. Any who fail to fully report their findings or without information will find the consequences extremely unpleasant," Tom told the mass of black robes. Bellatrix giggled with glee under her breathe. "Now get out of my sight."

The group bowed as one and left, all thankful and a little surprised they escaped without punishment. When he was alone Tom rubbed his temples and sat in a conjured throne.

"They won't find out," said a soft voice. Tom reacted immediately but could not find where the voice came from. As far as he could discern, the very shadows spoke.

"I'm not an enemy, and I will not harm," the voice said.

"If that is true than show yourself," Tom challenged.

"I would if I could, Dark Lord. Alas, I'm merely using the shadows to speak with you; I'm not physically where you are," the voice spoke. A mass of shadows congealed before him and slowly began to create a shape. Tom stared as a feminine figure of inky darkness stood before him.

"This is the closest I can come to a form, and this is quite taxing for me," the shadow figure said, there was no face. "I come to you because we can assist each other."

"Is that so? Explain," Tom said with a sweeping gesture to continue. He didn't know if the shadow's mistress, or master, could see him but felt that was the case.

"I originally had no desire to interfere with this little drama of yours," the shadow said. "I had merely come to this world to retrieve someone precious to me. However, in order to do so, I require your assistance. I understand that to approach you with this request, as a stranger, would be suspicious. Now, though, I find that I can assist you the same way you can assist me."

"I help you and you help me," Tom said. "Tit for Tat, as it were."

"A mutual exchange, Voldemort," the shadow said. "I will gather the intel you desire, and you retrieve the individual I require. It is a business transaction, one I could never approach the light with even if I were willing to do so."

"Why not?"

"I am not mortal, nor human. They would kill, imprison or, more likely, study me," the shadow said. "As they have the one I've come for. I have found that I cannot get to where he is, and so need someone to do so for me. You need someone to find out how and why the Ministry attacked the shape shifters. I will do this if you will rescue my treasured one."

"Where and who is this person of yours?"

"He is being held and in Azkaban, beyond this I cannot know what has been done to him. There is a barrier I cannot pass in place there, but you can," the shadow said. "As for who this person is, it is complex."

"Then perhaps you should explain."

"He is my child and my father. The one who made and taught me, and the one whom I look after and protect. He is my savior, and I his gaurdian. As I said it is complex, our relationship, and one a mortal is unlikely to comprehend."

"I'm no mortal," Voldemort said, feeling his blood boil. This shadow was beginning to irritate him.

"I mean no disrespect, Voldemort, but you aren't. True you have made it more difficult to truly end your life, but destroying the fragments of your soul is still possible," the shadow said before holding up what may have been meant to be a hand. "I have no intention of doing so, Voldemort, I'm merely saying that you haven't gone through a true transformation as I and my beloved have. A true turning involve transforming the soul into something beyond that of a "mortal" soul.

"As I stated previously, this is taxing to maintain. So I beg you to leave this discussion for another time."

"Very well, we have gotten off topic. What of the barrier you mentioned?"

"Somehow, due to my specific nature I am immune to the dementors and their fortress. This comes at a price, it seems, as I cannot enter their domain. I cannot explain it because I'm not certain what causes it, but there is a... side effect of my immunity, of my innate darkness. I cannot remain on their island... The closest I can come to understanding it is that if I did enter, somehow, my darkness would mix with Azkaban's own and I would lose myself and become in differentiable from the fortress."

"It's a defense mechanism."

"A magical one, yes. Do you agree to tmy proposal?"

"Yes. However, you will produce your end first."

"Very well, what information do you desire specifically?" The shadow asked. Tom saw it quiver slightly.

"How the raid occurred without my knowledge, the motivation behind it, any future plans that are similar... Also, who specifically orchestrated this mess," Tom said. Whoever the mastermind was, they were going to suffer for this. The shadow nodded.

"Very well, it will take time. So I ask that while I collect the information you rescue my precious one. You may explain the situation to him, and keep him until I produce the information."

"I can agree to that. What does this person look like?"

"A young boy, no more than twelve years. Pale, with orange eyes. He is called Merlin."

"You must be joking."

"I am not. He is not the one you call Merlin, but that is who he is. I must go, I'm unable to maintain this any longer, but I will give you the information once I have it."

The shadow collapsed into a dark puddle before dispersing back into the dark contours of the room.

Hogwarts, following morning

Harry stared at the Daily Prophet. He couldn't believe it. It was a nightmare. A raid had been executed on a werewolf camp, resulting in seven ministry deaths, three grown wolf deaths and the death of two cubs. The reason given for the raid, suspicion of criminal activity, was bullocks. The ministry had wanted to just wipe the pack off the map. Literally.

"This is unbelievable," Neville said. Harry saw his friend's hands shaking.

"Did Ares mention anything of the battle?" Said a dreamy voice behind Harry. He turned and found Luna leaning over his shoulder reading his paper.

"No, nothing. Which makes me think this wasn't an Order thing," Harry responded. He felt an uneasy current slither into his stomach. It was concerning that none of the major players in this game seemed to know about the raid before it happened. It wasn't only that, though. The further this war got, the more people would learn about Mercury and his Olympians; which made Harry feel uncomfortable throwing around the code names, especially with Hermione able to overhear and report back to Dumbledore.

"That is worrying," Neville said.

"Yeah, but breakfast isn't the place to talk about it," Harry said. He stood just as Draco and Blaise met the trio.

"See the paper this morning? What a mess," Draco said. "Father said it was unexpected, not a word about it to anyone."

"I can't imagine anyone is happy about the surprise raid," Harry said. The others nodded. "Though, Professor Snape won't be happy if we're late to Potions."

The tension and unease weren't completely dissipated with the quip, but the air seemed to lighten.

Department of Mystery, Evening

Kingsley rubbed the back of his neck as he signed off on his paperwork. The raid had been a nightmare. Twelve lives cut short, two of which hadn't even reached their tenth year. On top of that the next Order meeting Tonks or one of the others at the raid would report Lupin's presence in the wolf camp.

"The raid bothering you, Warrior?" Asked a voice. Kingsley spun in his chair, wand in hand, to see D'Angelo leaning against the wall. She looked different than previously. She wore only black now, and her clothes were form fitting. He knew she wasn't human, but he couldn't help noting her curves. He slowly lowered his wand, shaking his thoughts from his baser self.

"I suppose you are here to ask another favor?" Kingsley asked wondering what she needed now. D'Angelo gave a sardonic smile.

"Not a favor, I come seeking answers. It's about the raid you participated in. Who gave the orders for it?"

"I've no idea."

"I misspoke, I meant, who specifically gave you the order? What do they look like, how did they act carrying out their duty. These questions I need answers for."

"Well... It was an Unspeakable, I don't know who exactly. They're secretive."

"How so?"

"When someone is transferred to the Unspeakable branch of the Ministry, no official transfer is made. You never know who they are."

"They are secret police, then?"

"What is that?"

"Elites used to spy on domestic citizens, they are in many instances exempt from the law."

"Yeah, I suppose they could be considered that, but they're more than that. When Unspeakables are involved..."

"I think I understand. Can you describe this Unspeakable you interacted with. His appearance, his demeanor, anything."

"Cold, and superior. He acted as though he saw himself above us all, especially above the Werewolves. He addressed each of us by name, and told us lethal force was authorized, but that at least one werewolf should be captured."

"Captured, what for?"

"'We did not need to know'. That's his view. I hope he was taken down a peg when we came back empty handed." Kingsley's smile was grim. D'Angelo got a thoughtful look for a moment.

"What did the Unspeakable look like?"

"Tall, thin. Had scars on his face, looked like he had serious acne in his youth. Which probably wasn't long ago, he looked late thirties at most. Regular features apart from that, brown hair, brown eyes. Why do you want to know all this anyway?"

"I must meet the queen of Hearts, or king, and so I need a white rabbit to follow," D'Angelo smile. Kingsley blinked in confusion, and she was gone.