Alastor still didn't like it. Too many variables for his liking -- at least, for his liking when he wasn't the one going in. He'd taken greater risks when he worked alone. But, he was the only one to pay. Still, he nodded understanding. Really, there wasn't anything else for him to do. He wasn't on duty or allowed to go anywhere near this. Potter was being kind in telling him of it in the first place.
"It's likely less that he doesn't know that," he said with a shake of his head, "and more so that he figures it's easier to get the information from those who had once been his followers. There are newspaper archives telling of your return and proclaimation that you saw him return, after all." Alastor had done the research himself while digging for any information he could find on the second war when he took the Voldemort case, for all the Prophet had tried to paint Potter and Dumbledore as fools for telling such wives' tales.
"Right, well, tell Simmons to be careful with my men or I'll hex him to within an inch of his life." Alastor grinned. "However, you, Sir, should probably be on time to your next appointment or McKinnon will come looking for you. And she has heels. She doesn't need hexes to cause mutilations."