"We won't be made or broken by strength in numbers." As much as it grated on him to admit it, they had the key in Harry Potter, and very little else mattered to him. He doubted the Dark Lord's demise would put a stop to all of the trouble, but ... well, it would put a stop to his trouble. He gripped the arms of his chair thoughtfully, looking at her with a little less severity than he had before. "Once the head's cut off - I think you'll find our numbers will increase. Until then, it's probably too early to know whether congratulations are in order." Not that any birth at a time like this was something he'd have celebrated. Especially not to a werewolf; what that man was thinking, he just didn't know. No surprise there.
"I would like to be able to keep closer track of Potter's whereabouts," he continued. "To the extent such is possible, of course. Otherwise ... so long as you find me the plans for the tunnels, I believe that's all I need. If I think of anything else, I will write you. - Thank you." He sounded surprised to mean it. "You've been helpful."