The Paranoid Harry Potter

Voldemort was in a terrible state. He was convinced that somehow, someone had broken into the Malfoy home which he was currently using as his base of operations and managed to obliviate him. He had thoroughly questioned all his minions, half of them were even now shaking and trembling from the after-effects of his rather liberal use of the cruciatus curse, but he had not learned anything. All of his Death Eaters seemed to have been obliviated as well. Not one of them could recall the slightest detail about the boy who lived.

How? How had they done it? Who could have had the skill and power to break into Malfoy Manor and obliviate them all? Why would they even do that? If his enemies had the power to reach him here, why had they not simply killed him or even made the attempt? It was most puzzling.

He felt strange. He had been, for a very long time, fixated on his revenge against the one responsible for his previous downfall and now...now he could not remember anything at all about him. He could not even remember how he had been defeated all those years ago. All that was left were fragments. Pettigrew had been the one to lead him to the boy. He remembered that. He remembered a house but he could not remember whose house it had been. Nor could he remember the battle for surely there had been one. How else could he have been defeated? How else had he been forced to spend all those years wandering the earth as a wraith?

Then he had returned, used the boy's blood in the ritual to resurrect himself. How was it possible that he could not remember someone whose blood was even now a part of his body? How?

He would have to strengthen the wards around Malfoy Manor. On the other hand...yes, it would be much better to find a new place to operate out of. Someone had already managed to reach him here. No...This place was no longer safe. He would need to find a safer, better-protected stronghold.

Where was his spy? Where was Snape? He should have reported in by now. This was the last chance he would give the man. If he did not have any information on this matter then he would not be leaving Malfoy Manor, not alive at any rate.

Where was...aah there he was now. He took his bloody time about it too. His hand tightened upon his wand. Snape had better have some useful information or else.

Half an hour later, Voldemort was glaring at the rapidly retreating sight of Snape as he rushed from the room, his black robes billowing behind him. Voldemort eased his aching grip from his wand. He had been so sorely tempted to work his frustrations out on Snape, but the greasy bugger had managed to provide some information after all. He would let him live for now but as soon as he no longer needed him he would...

Damn it, so the Boy-Who-Lived had managed to hide his identity under the Fidelius Charm. Now, that was unexpected. He could not remember exactly when it had happened, but he vaguely remembered encountering the Fidelius Charm once before. He remembered not even being able to see the house that had been hidden by the charm until the secret keeper had let him in on the secret. Had it been the same house that Pettigrew had taken him to? Why could he not remember the details?

What if...What if the Boy-Who-Lived was invisible in the same way? He could be anywhere. Damn it, he could be anyone. He could walk right up to him on the street and not one of his people would be able to see him. The first they would know of it would be when they would be showered by the gore from his exploding head.

He would have to prepare another stronghold soon. He could not be exposed like this. If the boy knew where he was...No, the blasted boy...the boy could sneak up on him at any time. He had to protect himself.

Voldemort kept pacing the room, peering fearfully into the corners as he walked. More wards. That's what he needed. A lot more wards.

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