A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it. The Author of this work derives no remuneration – either in the form of money or other things – from this story.

A/N: I am not sure how long it has been since the last time that I have actually written a story. That being said, this story would contain multiple original characters as well as canon Harry Potter characters. It would contain Out-of-Character developments for every single HP character that would appear in the story. As many would have noticed, the title of this project is the same as an older one, but I decided to reuse the name because the older project, unfortunately had died. It was a casualty of being left in the dust for so long that my notes for that project have disappeared. Anyway, I hope that you would enjoy this story. Thank you.


PROLOGUE

Crystal Palace, Isla Britannia

Terra, Holy Empire of Britannia

Festive banners of resplendent purple and green – the former the colors of the Holy Emperor and the latter the colors of the family from where the Emperor came from – fluttered with the wind from the battlements of the castle even as armed guards in traditional, but functional, armor conducted foot patrols along the walls.

At the many entrances to the structure that houses the most important family in the whole of the Holy Empire, guards also stood at attention, while in front of them, court pages checked invitations being presented to them against an ever changing list as other pages in other entrances marked the arrival of more people. The guards were there not only for show, they were also there for security, ready to throw their lives away to defend the castle just as they are ready to grab an uninvited guest and throw him or her in the moat that surrounded the center of the government of the Holy Empire.

Inside the palace, men and women wearing their finest slowly made their way to the very center of the edifice, speaking amongst themselves and commenting on how lucky they have been that they had been invited to witness a ceremony that would change the course of the history of the most powerful political entity in the history of the human race.

More than ten thousand guests from the most powerful families, corporations, and organizations in the Holy Empire have been invited to witness this event, yet for all that number, they still account for a negligible percentage of the population of the Holy Empire, for truly, only those who have the power and the influence can make the cut.

At one of the many hallways that connected the outer palace with the inner palace, a young woman watched as men and women made their way to the place where the ceremony would be held. They all seemed oblivious to her, but that could be forgiven considering that she was at the second floor of the castle and the others were at the first floor. So focused are they that they do not even deign to look around them anymore, though the young woman took that as fortunate as she does not want them to see her.

At her side, the young woman carried with her a notebook, and as she continued to watch the coming and going of people – who think themselves important at having been invited to partake in the ceremony – she unconsciously placed her notebook in front of her and opened it to reveal a blank page.

From the breast pocket of the navy blue uniform that she was wearing, she took a fountain pen and before she knew it, she was already writing something on her notebook.

'Throughout history,' she thought even as she translated the words coming from her mind into words that one could read by writing them on the blank page of her notebook, 'the captains of history are those few people who have taken advantage of the opportunities that fate had given them,'

She paused at that moment and returned her attention toward the parade of people below her. She had no doubt that most of them think of themselves as people who have taken advantage of the opportunities given to them, and in a sense, she knew that they are correct.

The decades of political upheaval that had led to this ceremony that would be performed in less than an hour had given thousands, if not millions, of people the opportunity that they needed to better themselves and to make their names resound through the corridors of history, but as much as they have tried to make their names ring loud, they all still pale in comparison to the handful of people that the young woman knew would be celebrated in the centuries to come.

'Sometimes, however, even fate would need to be coerced into giving opportunities,' she thought at the same time that she wrote that upon her notebook, 'and of all the possible coercions that fate could be given, none would be as encompassing as war.'

At the same time that she thought about that, a group of men wearing scarlet military uniform marched in front of her. Their attention focused to their front, they failed to see as she stared at them, something that she considered fortunate considering that she is wearing a uniform that she is not supposed to wear. She, however, earned the right to wear the navy blue uniform of the Imperial Fleet, and nothing that those scarlet-clad ground-based Imperial Army men could say would rob her of that right that she had earned.

'Not everyone who has served under arms would be remembered,' she wrote, 'just as not all of those who would be remembered would be men who have served under arms.'

The young woman turned her attention away from the hall in front of her and returned it toward the corridor behind her, the very same corridor that she had used to walk toward her current position. With an almost imperceptible shrug, she started to walk back toward where she came from, but even as she did so, she continued to write upon her notebook.

'Centuries of war had left the Holy Empire of Britannia as the dominant military force is the solar system,' she wrote, 'from her capital in Britannia, the Holy Empire controlled everything from the orbit of the Sun to the asteroid belt, and was in the process of adding the Jovian Moons to her already impressive portfolio of colonies subjugated through diplomacy and warfare.'

As she walked through the corridors, her mind turned to that event that happened in these very halls years ago, the event that future historians would label as the beginning for the most devastating war that the Holy Empire had fought in its history and the first action in a war that would see the rise of a new bloodline taking the Golden Throne of the Emperor since the Empire was founded nearly two thousand years ago.

'None of us, however, could have foreseen the series of events that would have thrown the already determine course of the Holy Empire into one of chaos brought about by the uncertain times and loyalties of a civil war between the two most powerful families in the history of the human race.'

She paused here so that she could look at the corridor in front of her. One side of the corridor was completely covered in glass, allowing the sunlight to filter into the room unobstructed, but because it was evening, only the light reflected by the moon could filter into the corridor. As beautiful as this was, it still pale in comparison to when it was the light of the sun that filtered into the room.

This, she knew, is the same corridor where the last Lord President of the Council was suddenly struck by an illness that made him unable to meet the Emperor. That was last attempt of fate to prevent the wars that followed after, for if the Lord President of the Council had actually met with the Emperor, then the civil war would have erupted earlier and the results of the same could have been different.

As the young woman took a step forward, she returned her attention toward the notebook that she had been writing on, 'Much like the Trojan War of old, it was a woman who has been the catalyst of the war, and much like the Trojan War, there are those who have conspired behind the veil to make it possible,' the young woman paused once more, but this time, the pause was considerably shorter before she returned her attention to her notebook, 'but unlike the Greek gods of old, those that plotted the Civil War behind the veil are not gods, just arrogant men and women who, because of their power, believed themselves to be gods.'

She knew that the true history and the true background of the people who have orchestrated the events that led to the Civil War would not be revealed, nor would it be recorded. So many 'truths' would have been made false by the simple fact of recording who these people truly were that it would be more prudent – not to mention that it would satisfy the need for vengeance on the part of those who have won the war – to have these people disappear, even from the pages of future history.

'Magic,' she scoffed, 'does not necessarily make one a god, but there are those who believed that the fact that they are gifted with these abilities automatically make them the best candidates to guide the human race.'

She found herself walking through the corridor, and as she did so, she inadvertently turned her attention toward one of the paintings that hang from the walls of the hallway. The first painting in a series of more than two dozen works, each depicting an event that made the Holy Empire into the power that it is now.

'The Great Disaster,' she thought at the same time that she looked at the painting in front of her. It depicted what was supposed to be a quiet town in the British Isles, but with one glaring thing wrong, and in the painting, that was the large wall of water that the painter had depicted in the background of the picturesque town.

'No one knows if it was an earthquake, or if it was something else, all that was known was that in a span of one night, the whole of Southern England disappeared under the waves of the North Sea,' the young woman thought, 'millions of lives were lost in a torrent of water that managed to turn more than sixty thousand square miles of land into frigid waters, and as if that was not enough, multiple explosions from all around the world managed to forever alter the geography of the our mother planet.'

She knew the statistics, of course. In the span of a single week, a full twenty percent of the human population was gone, hundreds of square miles of land in different parts of the world sunk under the water, at the same time that new islands were formed. It was said that it was the vengeance of Mother Nature against her most stubborn and destructive of children, but whatever the truth of the matter was, from that day forward, the history of the human race was forever altered.

The young woman turned her attention toward the next painting that caught he interest, skipping two that showed historical events that, in her opinion, were of negligible value. The next painting that she turned her attention to was that of a meeting of men in their most formal wear while shaking hands with each other.

'The Founding of the Congressional Corporate Alliance,' she thought, 'this is the first step toward a single world government.'

The Congressional Corporate Alliance was formed when most major governments collapsed in the aftermath of the Great Disaster. In the wake of failed states and governments, it was the massive multi-national corporation that came to the assistance of the downtrodden people, rebuilding lives and providing for security against those that had turned to banditry and barbarism in order to survive in the new world. It did not take long before the governing bodies of those governments were being asked to govern people, and in the face of such demands, most corporations decided to accommodate.

It took almost a hundred years after the Great Disaster before the Congressional Corporate Alliance finally became a single world government. The United Nations, powerless to stop the multi-national corporations, was eventually absorbed into the Alliance, forming the Executive Branch of the government while the multi-national corporations themselves formed the Legislature.

Under the new regime, the Great Disaster was investigated, yet at the same time, the threat of the disaster being repeated compelled scientists to study the ways and means of sending people off of the surface of the mother planet. The first colonies orbiting Earth was established seventy years after the founding of the new government.

She turned her attention toward the next painting in the series, and a smile appeared on her face, 'William Lancaster, The First Emperor,' she thought. The painting that she was staring at was that of a man who stood in front of the entire Congressional Alliance with his right fist raised above his head. She thought that it was a reaction that was expected of him, after all, he had just been elected President for Life, concurrent with his election as Prime Minister.

The combination of those two offices in the power of one man meant that William Lancaster is now the most powerful man in the history of the human race, or at least, he was during his time. He proved just how powerful he was a few years later when he declared himself Emperor for life and started to build the Holy Empire. 'The steps that he had taken that day, are the foundations of the Empire that we now live in.'

As she turned her attention toward the next painting, she thought about just how literal that statement was. 'Isla Britannia,' she thought. The next painting in the series depicted the opening of the artificial island that would become the capital of the Holy Empire, the very artificial island that this palace was now standing on.

Built above the ruins of the former Southern England, the island is a marvel of construction with technologies leaned from building in space incorporated into the same. No earthquake would ever sink this island, or at least, that was the boast of the Emperor when he opened the island twenty five years after it had started construction.

The young woman turned her attention toward the next painting that she wanted to see, skipping half a dozen along the line as she made her way to the painting, and this one was, without a doubt, a painting depicting a martial scene, "The Conquest of Mars,' she thought.

Over the course of the next three hundred years, five Emperors ruled over the Holy Empire of Britannia, and while they strengthened the power and authority of Terra, they did not neglect the other planets and moons in the system. Stanford City, the first city in Luna, opened a mere fifty five years after the death of William I, and by the time of the inauguration of the fifth Emperor, Mars itself has been fully colonized.

'The proliferation of independence movements in Mars would have been a foregone conclusion, now that one would think about it,' she thought. She imagined that the authorities in Terra were mightily surprised when the news that an entire garrison of their troops were massacred by colonists in Mars, but she imagined that the surprise of the independence movements in Mars were even more surprised when they woke up two months later with the ships of the Imperial Fleet above them. The war that followed had been one of the most devastating in the history of the human race, and even now, five hundred years after the end of that war, Mars had still not fully recovered.

The next painting in the series was a direct reaction to the Martian Rebellion, yet at the same time, it was also something that she could not believe the Emperor would actually do. The painting depicted the then Emperor – James II – signing a piece of paper while his cabinet ministers looked on, 'The Glorious Revolution,' she thought, yet at the same time that she did, she privately thought to herself that there was nothing glorious about the thing that James did.

'James thought that if everyone of his subject would have the same English-sounding name as him, they would be less inclined to rebel against him,' she thought, 'And so, was born the Cultural Amendment Law of 487 SE, otherwise known as the Anglophile Law.'

Under this law, every subject of the Emperor is suggested to change their names to more English sounding names. There was no penalty for those who would refuse the suggestion of the Emperor, or at least, there was supposed to be no penalty. Like many things, however, what was supposed to happen and what actually happened were two different things. Faced with rampant discrimination that included their children being removed from school, those who had refused to change their names either were forced to do so, or were forced to migrate outside the Britannian Empire, and at that point, that meant the Belt and Jupiter.

'For all the good that that did them,' she thought at the same time that she turned her attention toward the next painting in the series. Once more, this was a martial painting, but this painting depicted the signing of a treaty, 'The Treaty of Vesta,' she thought, 'By this treaty, the Belt surrendered their sovereignty and independence to the Holy Empire of Britannia, and together with that surrender, the laws of the Holy Empire suddenly apply to them.'

The War of the Belt, as it became known, solidified the policy that would define the Holy Empire for the next generations to come, and as the young woman turned her attention toward the next painting in the series, she glimpsed the result of that policy.

Once more, the painting was a martial painting, but unlike the earlier paintings, the people depicted in this particular work of art are still alive, 'The Treaty of Europa,' she thought. 'The surrender of the Jovian League.'

There was another thing that was peculiar with this particular painting, or rather, with the history that followed after the signing that is depicted in the painting, and that is the fact that the Holy Empire never actually took full control of the Jovian League. A smile came across her face as she thought about that. It was not because the Empire did not want to, it was more because they could not afford to.

'The Civil War, after all, erupted less than three months prior to the signing of that Treaty,' she thought.

The next painting that she stopped in front of was the last painting of the series, but though this is the last painting today, she was sure that tomorrow, there would be a new one that would follow after it. After all, today, the Holy Empire is about to make history once more.

'Dusk at Venus,' she thought at the same time that she looked at the painting. The planet known as the twin of Earth, yet rotating opposite the direction of most planets, she thought it appropriate that it be the place where the Civil War would end.

"So, this is where you have been," the voice tore the young woman out of her reverie. She removed her gaze from the painting that she did not even realized she was staring at and focused it instead toward the direction of where the voice came from.

The man that she found herself staring at brought an unconscious smile upon her face, "My lord," she greeted him at the same time that she performed a perfect curtsey in front of him.

He looked resplendent in the uniform that he was wearing. The dark blue – it was almost black – tailcoat with standing collar, she knew, was authorized for wear only by the highest ranking military officers, so the young woman did not need to look at the shoulder boards that he was wearing to see the three diamonds on them that mark his rank as a fleet admiral. What truly took her attention, however, was the Britannian Cross that he was wearing on his neck and the dark blue sash that represented his membership with the Order of Britannian Knights.

On his left hand, he carried a sword, though the blade of the weapon – and she knew that it was a weapon, having seen it in action before – remained safely hidden inside its scabbard.

"The ceremony is about to begin," he said at the same time that he politely inclined his head toward her in a silent acknowledgement of the curtsey that she had given him, "You will be missed at the Throne Room."

She smiled at that before she fixed her lord with a gaze that suggested that she was completely serious with the next words that she said, "The ceremony would not begin with you absent from the Throne Room, my Lord," she said, and before he could say anything, she quickly added, "You are the one who made it possible in the first place."

The smile on the face of the man told her that he agreed with her last statement, but he did not say anything, instead, he turned his back toward her and motioned for her to follow him, something that she was only all too happy to do.

As they walked toward the direction of the room where the new Emperor of the Holy Empire was about to be crowned, more thoughts run through the mind of the young woman, but she did not take her notebook and wrote upon them anymore, there was no need to, 'Throughout history, few have been given the power to control the destiny of their fellow men, but it is these captains of history, who have taken advantage of the opportunities that fate had given them, that legends are made of.'

ONE

This is not a happy story. The gods know how much our world needs a happy story after everything that has happened, but this is not the story that our world needs, this is the story that our world needs to hear, and it is not a story filled with rainbows and niceties, it is a story of betrayal and the fall of the man who, but mere years before his fall, is heralded as the next leader of the Light.

Consumed by the need to feel power in their own hands, there are those people who have fallen to the dark, but none as spectacularly – or as deadly – as the man who is the protagonist of our story.

The Great Magical War began almost a decade before our protagonist was born, and it was truly a great war. The two sides of the war, the Light and the Dark, fought to control our world and as the war began to heat up, even those who remained at the other side of the Great Divide began to take notice of what was happening.

There was also no question that the Light side was losing the War. Hampered by conditions that prohibited them from killing their enemies, the many warriors of the Light chafed against these restrictions. Those that could control themselves became better warriors, those that cannot, they proved the reason why the restriction was placed in effect in the first place, for with very life that they take, the deeper that they sank into the abyss that is the Dark.

Our protagonist was born, the first son of a distinguished family who had always fought on the side of the Light. The son of a father born in a family that always had magic flowing in their veins, and a mother who was a first generation witch, our protagonist was supposed to live a life that was as uneventful as it was dull in the eyes of history, for it is the story of all too many of our kind. Fate, however, was not kind to this family.

For some unknown reason, the leader of the Dark took a special interest in the family of this child, and he paid them a personal visit one Halloween night so many years ago. There was truly no indication of what he wanted to do there, but there was no question of what he would leave behind by the time that he was done. Only, this time, everything did not go according to his plan.

Our protagonist not only survived the visit of the leader of the Dark, he also vanquished the Dark Lord, and so, even at barely a year old, he was hailed as the savior of our world. We hailed him as the 'Boy-who-Lived', even as we celebrated the end of the war, for that was what the death of his parents had won for us, peace, no matter how temporary that peace had been.

Yet, we know not where our savior is, for in his infinite wisdom, the leader of the Light thought to hide him from the Dark who might want to avenge their master. For a decade, we waited until he was finally eleven, and it was time for him to go to the premier magical institution in the world, Hogwarts School.

As was the case with most of our youth, the bonds formed during their time at this school stayed with them till the end of their lives, and for our protagonist, the friends and enemies that he made while studying would remain the same even in the latter stages of his life. This became even more poignant at the end of his fourth year.

That year, a magical tournament involving three of the biggest schools in Europe had been organized, and at the end of that tournament, the Dark Lord, the same one that he had vanquished as a child, returned through the use of some dark ritual, and suddenly, our world was at war once more. Despite his claims, however, our government refused to act.

Paralyzed by the mere thought of the most powerful Dark Lord in seven centuries somehow cheating death, rather than confront the problem, our government chose instead to bury their heads in the sand. An entire year was given over to the Dark to rebuild their forces before sensible minds – and the fact of a battle at the center of our ministry – finally won and the Light began to fight back.

Our protagonist won this war too, with the help of his closest friends, another boy and a girl, and this time, he made sure that his nemesis remains behind the veil of death. The sacrifices of the generation of his parents, and the sacrifices of his own generation would not have been in vain, and once more, we had peace. The Boy-who-Lived is now the Boy-who-Won, the Leader of the Light.

We really should have learned that there can never truly be peace, there could only be lulls in between chaos that we can call peace.

It was not surprising that the Boy-who-Lived should fall in love with the girl who had helped him end the war, just as it is not surprising that the other boy who had helped him end the war also fell in love with this girl, and as the two of them silently fought with each other for the affections of their friend, none of them realized the creeping darkness.

She disappeared one day, without a trace. One day, she was promising to have dinner with both of them, the next, she was gone, and no matter how thoroughly the Boy-who-Won searched, he could not find her. Logically, his mind came to the conclusion that it was the remnant of the Dark who had taken her, and his fury and need for vengeance knew no bounds.

In his search for his beloved, the Boy-who-Won began to delve into the Dark Arts. At first, it was merely for interrogation purposes. The threat of torture was one that could get tongues loose, but when even the threat fails, then actual torture would be needed. It did not take long before the Boy-who-Won was no longer just torturing for information, he was now torturing for fun, and just like that, the leader of the Light turned his back to the Light.

As the number of battered, broken, and lifeless – for indeed, the Boy-who-Won does not keep prisoners – behind him increased, so did the wariness of our world for him. Those who were once sympathetic to his plight now argued that he should be stopped before he destroys our world. He was aware of all this happening, however, but he did not care. He wanted to find his lost love and this is the most efficient method that he had found.

He scarcely noticed that with every notch he added to the people that he has killed, the deeper he walks into the abyss that is the Dark.

Finally, our world has had enough. The Dark – who continually suffered from his assaults – and the Light – who wanted the killing to stop – bonded together in an effort to stop the Boy-who-Won. It was ironic that these two sides who have never seen a common ground since they first formed many thousands of years ago would now find one, but the threat of our world being exposed was too much, and common ground would have to be found.

Lured by false reports from his remaining supporters who have, by now, turned against him, the Boy-who-Won appeared at one of the most ancient sites in the British Isles, the Stonehenge, and found himself facing five hundred of the most powerful mages and arch-mages in the world. Even with this array of power, it still took them five hours, the entirety of the magical reserves kept at the Stonehenge, and the lives of almost three-quarters of their number to seal the Boy-who-Won in a glowing rock, and even then, he had one more card to play.

As soon as the Boy-who-Won was encased in the magical rock that would be his prison for all eternity, the magical ley lines underneath Stonehenge – where six different ley lines intersect each other – overflowed with magic. An explosion then caused the whole of Southern England and Wales to sink into the North Sea and as the cold waters of the Atlantic rushed in to drown millions of lives, all lost in one night, other explosions occurred all around the world as places where ley lines intersected overflowed with magic.

The non-magical world referred to this incident as the Great Disaster, while our world refer to this incident as the Last Card. Whatever it was called, however, there can be no denying that it is something that altered the course of human history, just as it forever altered the geography of the world. It was hard to believe that it was all the work of one man.

Whatever it was that the Boy-who-Won was planning when he caused that explosion would never be known. The mages and arch-mages – at least, those that had survived – were quick to take the rock that he was encased in. What happened to that rock is not known, but there are those who say that it still exists, for it cannot be destroyed, and that it was sent to space, to wander for all eternity with only the stars as its companions. There are those that say that it would return one day, and against that possibility, we magicals should be prepared, for there can be no denying that one he returns, the Boy-who-Won would neither forgive nor forget the things that have been done to him.

- Exhibit # A7-4585, Imperial Museum of Britannia (Documents from Abandoned Cult Site Found in the Highlands, Scotland – Cult Story on Great Disaster, 2005 ACE)

Aboard the Orion Visage,

Asteroid Belt, Holy Empire of Britannia

The sound of the first explosion tore Hayley Valerie Altwood from the dream world that she had found herself in and back to the world of the living. She managed to curse under her breath even as she shot up from her bunk, grabbing a jacket with the name of the ship stenciled on the cloth as she did so.

As she put on the jacket, Hayley fought the urge to curse once more, forcing her mind to turn from regretting the fact that she had been torn out of her dream – involving a café in Paris, two cups of coffee, and the man that she loves – into the present situation, for even as she regretted the fact that she had been woken up, a small part of her mind was telling her that there was no way that that explosion that woke her up was a regular occurrence aboard this ship.

A second explosion followed there and then, as if to advertise to Hayley that her thoughts are right on the money. The second explosions seemed louder than the first, but as she made her way to the door of the room that had been provided for her as her quarters for the duration of this expedition, the pretty professor told herself that she just could not be sure.

The first thing that she noticed when she opened the door was that some of her students were also peeking out of the rooms that they had been assigned. Most of them turned their attention toward her when they noticed that she had her head out of the room, and from the expression on their faces, Hayley could tell that they were expecting her to answer their unasked questions.

Unfortunately, her Masters Degree in Astrobiology did not allow her to have the knowledge of how a ship is supposed to operate in the vacuum of space, hence, even if her students were to actually voice out their question, she still would not have been able to answer them.

She fought the urge to tell them off at the same time that she reminded herself that she is supposed to be their teacher and their team leader. A small mental sigh escaped through the lips of Hayley as she told herself that she never wanted to be a professor, she just wanted to be a scientist, but unfortunately for her, one of the requirements for her to get a doctorate would be to teach classes at the university level. The fact that she is just a few years older than most of her students also meant that she had trouble dealing with them at times because most of them would rather see her as their peer rather than their superior.

What really made it difficult for her was the fact that she was well aware of her reputation at the university. Most of the men who had volunteered for this expedition did so that they could get the chance to spend some time with her, even if they are well aware that she is supposed to get married sometime this year.

'My expedition,' she thought to herself at the same time that she forced herself to return to the present. She returned her attention toward her students who were now looking expectantly at her and she fought the urge to sigh as she told herself that even if most of the guys just went so that they could stare at her, they still found something that would make them famous when they get back to Earth.

The eyes of Hayley widened at that realization – though most of the students who were watching her thought that the reason that her eyes widened was because of the third explosion that occurred but a few moments before her eyes widened – before she stepped out of her room and started to run toward the direction of the science room, the place where the crown jewel of this expedition was located.

Hayley did not even care if her students were following her, after all, she did not tell them to do so, but at the same time, she was not surprised to find them behind her when she glanced toward them a few moments later. The beautiful professor was also not surprised to find that some other students have already gathered in front of the door to the science room, evidently coming to the conclusion that this is where she would make her way once she had regained her bearings.

The professor motioned for her students to step aside as she stepped toward the keypad to the side of the sliding blast doors that would lead to the room. The science room is the most secure room in the whole of the ship, just as it is the most fortified room in this ship. Hayley quickly inputted the code – she was the only one who has the code – into the keypad and the hissing sound that the doors made as they slid open echoed around the corridor.

Hayley was first inside the science room, but her students did not even take a second or two to follow after her. The first thing that the professor turned his attention to the moment that he entered the room was the rock at the center of the room, and a smile came across her face when she noticed that the rock was right where she left it before she retired for rest just a few hours ago.

Once more, the professor found herself staring at the rock, and she was sure that she was not the only one who was staring at the rock. There was just something about the rock that compelled people to stare at it, and it was not only the fact that it was literally glowing.

The color that the rock was glowing in led one of the students to coin the term 'green rock' for the find. Hayley could remember staring at the monitors as their unmanned probes approaches the glowing rock to check it for any signs of radioactivity or any other scientific phenomena that caused it to glow that way that it did, but the most invasive scans that they can carry out on the rock returned with a negative result. It would have been possible to cut the rock into two, but even the sharpest diamond saw that the expedition had brought with them turned to a useless heap of metal after meeting the rock.

Eager to find out about the secrets of the rock, Hayley had ordered that it be hauled aboard the ship so that they could transport it back to the University where the beautiful professor was sure that they would find something that would break the rock open and force it to reveal its secrets.

She was looking forward to the recognition that would follow the presentation of their discovery, but another explosion tore the beautiful professor out of the reverie that she did not even realize she had fallen in and back into the real world.

Once more, Hayley fought the urge to curse, though it was a close thing as one of her students nearly failed to dive out of her way as she made her way to the intra-ship communications panel that was on one of the walls of the science room.

"What is happening?" Hayley asked without preamble the moment that the face of the captain of the vessel appeared on the screen of the panel. She did not even notice the fact that the captain was also wearing his sleeping gear as she was so adamant on finding answers to her question.

Fortunately for her, the captain was also the no-nonsense kind, "We are under attack," the man said, also without preamble. There was a pause, however, as the captain summarized the situation in his head, before he continued, "they have already taken over the lower decks and are making their way to the upper decks on their way to the bridge."

There was actually no need to say who was doing the attacking, after all, the Imperial Fleet would not resort to attacking civilian ships since they do not need to. If they wanted to board the Orion Visage, they would have announced their intentions without the need to cause explosions aboard the science vessel.

"We are in the science room," Hayley announced, and though she realized that that information might be superfluous, she still needed to say something.

The captain nodded, "I suggest you lock yourselves up in the science room, doctor," the captain said, "it's the most secure room we have, and you may be able to hold on until assistance arrives."

Hayley nodded. She did not think of telling the captain that that had been her plan all along, but before she can ask her next question, the connection was suddenly cut off, leaving Hayley staring at the static that was being displayed by the screen for a few moments.

The professor, however, was able to recover from the sudden lost of communications, and she turned her attention toward her students, "Close the door," she ordered, at the same time that she made her way toward the central computer of the room.

As her students closed the door in compliance with her instructions, the beautiful professor activated the central computer and ordered it to lock all doors leading into the room with the most stringent locking protocol that it could come up. That done, she turned her attention toward her students and as she had expected, they were once more all looking at her, waiting for her to give them some sort of plan.

"Listen, the captain said that he had asked for assistance already," Hayley said. The professor was well aware of the fact that the captain did not actually categorically state that he had called for assistance, but she was hoping that the students would not catch on to that fact, "And this is the most secure place in the whole of the ship, we'll be safe here until help comes."

Hayley was well aware of the fact as well that the words that had just escaped from her mouth were meant for her as much as it was meant for her students, because even if the professor could see that most of her students are frightened about what is happening, she was sure that the horrified looks on their faces were also reflected upon her own.

The professor was not going to fool herself, right now, she wants to be safely back at home, in the arms of the man that she is supposed to marry in a few more months, but the reality of the situation is that she is now trapped in a thirty five by forty feet wide room with twenty other people waiting for assistance that may never come.

'Mack,' she thought. Her musings on the man that she tried to convince herself she would soon see again were cut off by the sound of another explosion, and this time the explosion sounded as if it came directly from outside the science room.

One of her students certainly thought that that was the case, and she did not mind announcing her opinion to everyone, "That was right outside the door," the young graduate student said.

That would ordinarily have caused the other people in the room to start panicking as well, but before her students could start to scream at the top of their lungs and descend into chaos, Hayley once more took control of the situation, "Quiet," she demanded, and as every pair of eyes in the room – except for hers, of course – turned toward her, the beautiful professor added, "Even if it was outside the room, they would need a small nuclear bomb to break open those doors, and I am sure that they do not have those."

Hayley did not really think that the pirates that are now attacking the science ship would have a nuclear warhead with them. Besides, the professor told herself that even if the pirates have such a warhead, they still would not use those because it would be counter-productive. The pirates have boarded the ship to steal supplies, probably kidnap the passengers, and to take the hull of the ship so that they could sell it. Detonating a nuclear weapon would contaminate the supplies, kill the passengers, and destroy the hull of the ship.

Secure in that knowledge, Hayley found herself relaxing a bit more behind the secure doors of her science room. 'We can do this,' she silently assured herself at the same time that she returned her attention toward the rock that was at the center of the room, 'We'll bring you back to Cambridge, and you are going to make all of us famous.'

As she was thinking about that, the beautiful professor failed to turn her attention toward the screen of her main computer which had, by now, been warning her that it had detected some sort of intrusion into its code. Hayley had assumed that the wailing sounds being generated by the computer was in reaction to the fact that the ship had been boarded, and she only thought to actually turn her attention toward the screen of the computer the moment that the bleating sound being produced by the machine had died.

By the time that she had turned her attention toward the screen, it was already too late.

The eyes of Hayley – indeed, the eyes of so many others who are inside the science room – widened when they heard the hiss made by the double doors as they were opened. Every single pair of eyes in the room turned toward the direction of where the sound came from, and many – Hayley amongst them – managed to dive toward the direction of the floor just as a murderous hail of gunfire erupted from outside the science room, showering the cavernous interior of the science room with a lethal fusillade of bullets.

A chorus made up of screams of pain told Hayley that some of her students had been hit, but she was actually thankful that her students were grunting in pain for it was those students who did not grunt in pain that she knew were already beyond her help. Hayley may not have felt a connection with any of her students, but a single tear still spilled from her eyes when she realized that those who have not made a sound are already dead.

The lethal fusillade of gunfire ended almost as instantly as it began, and Hayley forced herself to get up on her hands and knees so that she could take a look around her. The beautiful professor had mentally prepared herself for the sight that she was sure she would see when she brings her head up, but despite that, the sheer carnage that she was seeing still made her retch twice.

Hayley did not bother to count the number of her students that were already dead, she would not have been able to even if she wanted to because a few moments after she got up on her hand and knees, the very same pirates that had murdered her students stormed into the interior of the science room, and a scream escaped from the mouth of Hayley as she found herself once more kissing the floor, though this time, it was because one of the pirates compelled her to with the stock of the rifle that he was holding.

"Careful with the merchandise, son," Hayley heard one of the pirates say. The beautiful professor turned her attention toward the direction where the voice came from and watched as a scarred man wearing the battle armor of an Imperial Marine entered the science room. He was, however, no marine, and that was obvious from the crossed bones that were painted on the front part of the armor, "You can't sell a toy with a broken face."

The professor knew that they were talking about her, and she was about to give them an angry retort, but whatever it was that she wanted to say was drowned out a few moments later by a shrill scream coming from one of her students followed by the sound of a burst of gunfire. The scream continued even after the sound of the gunfire had died down, and it told Hayley that the student who had screamed was not the one who had been shot.

"He would not have made it," one of the pirates said, "better we give him a merciful death."

'There is nothing merciful in that,' Hayley thought at the same time that he finally forced herself to look toward the direction of where she heard the gunfire. One of her students was slumped on a console, a dozen bullet holes in his body and his blood spilling.

"Right," the leader of the pirates suddenly said, forcing all attention to once more turn toward him, Hayley included, "We are the Red Raven Pirates, and you are all our prisoners."

"What are you going to do to us?" one of the students asked.

The pirate leader actually smiled at her, "Well, first, we are going to have fun with you," he said. The leer that was on his face told Hayley that while these men were bent on having fun with them, she was sure that it would not be fun for her and her students, "Then, we'll think about what we'll do with you, but I guess most of you would end up on the auction blocks."

Hayley gritted her teeth at the same time that she turned her gaze toward her students. As the beautiful professor had expected, most of her students have no idea what the pirate was talking about, but Hayley knew all about it, after all, she had to attend a briefing before this expedition was finally given the green light by the Board of Directors, and during that briefing, she had been informed of what pirates tend to do with their captives.

The professor wanted to shout, but she knew that there was nothing that she could do anymore. She turned her gaze toward the pirate leader, and it was evident that he noticed that she was glaring at him, because he gave her a smile before he started to walk toward her. The two of them glared at each other, and in that split second, a blinding light enveloped the entire science room, forcing Hayley – indeed, forcing everyone who was inside the room – to close their eyes as an automatic response against being blinded by the sudden burst of light.

General Headquarters, Imperial Britannian Grand Fleet

Hotel Astoria, Europa, Britannian-occupied Jupiter

Lieutenant Emma Charlotte Spencer extended her senses even as she kept most of her attention focused on the man who was seated beside her. She knew that he was keeping his peripheral vision focused on her even as most of his attention was turned toward the other people who were seated at the dining table with him, and she knew this because he gave her a smile that quickly disappeared from the visage of his face when she tried to confirm it.

She would have returned that smile if she could, but she knew that this was neither the proper time nor the proper place for her to show him her affection, after all, she was supposed to be on duty, and as if to emphasize that fact to her, she glanced downward toward the navy blue double-breasted reefer jacket that she was wearing before she returned her gaze toward the man at the head of the dining table.

Emma fought the urge to sigh as her gaze centered on his visage. This was supposed to be an informal dinner – hence, the relatively informal dress that everyone in the room was wearing – but she knew that when it comes to him and her, they are always supposed to be at their most professional unless they are completely alone.

Once more, the lieutenant fought the urge to sigh. It was not as if their relationship was a secret, and she knew that every single officer – and here, she glanced toward the other people who were seated at the table with her – are aware of the fact that she and the man who was seated at the head of the table are seeing each other in a romantic fashion.

'Not that that is surprising,' Emma thought. Privately, she thought that it would have been more surprising if she and the man who had literally saved her life would not be in the relationship that they are right now. Once more, she focused her attention toward the man at the center of the table, and she actually blushed when she saw that he was looking at her and that there was a smile on his face.

Her thoughts turned to the first time that she had met him, and without realizing it, a smile appeared on her face. It had been more than ten years since that day, but she can still remember it as if it had happened yesterday. She supposed that that was to be expected, after all, she could not remember a single thing about her life before that day. Even the name that she had been using had come from him.

She tried to challenge him to a staring contest, but by the time that she had made that decision, he had removed his gaze from her and returned it toward the piece of steak that was resting on the plate in front of him. Emma watched as he cut a portion of the morsel and placed it in his mouth before the look on his face transformed back to a visage that is more appropriate for a man of his station.

Emma watched as he returned his attention toward the other men inside the room. another smile appeared on her face as she listened to him take control of the situation, like he always does, and the men in the room were once more reminded why Lord High Admiral Duke Sir Alexander Charles York, Duke of Washington, is the man chosen by the Emperor to lead the largest and most powerful of the four fleets of the Holy Empire.

"Gentlemen," the High Admiral said, and once those words had escaped from his mouth, the attention of every single person inside the room turned to him, "This is an informal dinner, but we are the highest ranking officers of the Grand Fleet, and we are tasked with completing the task that the Golden Throne had given us," he glanced toward his left hand side, toward the direction of a bespectacled officer who replaced his utensils on the side of his plate when he realized that his commanding officer was looking at him, "Where are we in that regard, Admiral Ashford?"

Emma watched in silence as the officer that her lord had mentioned paused for a few moments. She used that time to study the features of the bespectacled officer. The pair of triangles that he was wearing at the collar of his dress shirt marked him as a rear admiral, as are the designs of the shoulder boards that he was wearing, but at the same time, Emma knew that Rear Admiral Daniel William 'Ash' Ashford, chief military advisor to Lord Alexander, is one of the smartest officers in the Grand Fleet.

"We have decimated their capital ships," Rear Admiral Ashford began, "and we have dealt a crippling blow to most of their ship repair yards and other facilities, in addition to the fact that we have cut them off from most of their sources of fuel and other expendables."

"Yet, the major threat was, and remains to be, their escort ships," Lord Alexander said, "they can still use those to ambush our baggage train and they can cause us significant damage before we can mobilize to come to the aid of any supply column that they can hit," the High Admiral paused for a moment before he added, "And by the time that we get to the site, it is possible that they have already disappeared."

Emma did not need to turn her attention toward the direction of the table to know that every single man who was seated at the table – all of them part of the command staff of her lord – agreed with the assessment of their commanding officers. She was not even that interested in this impromptu briefing for she already knew what it was about. In any case, it was not as if she could voice her opinion here, for while it is true that Lord Alexander would listen to her, the same could not be said for most of the people who are seated at this table.

'It has been more than five hundred years since the last woman was allowed to serve in the Imperial Fleet,' Emma thought, 'and even then, it was mostly as administrators.'

The lieutenant did not mind the fact that she is unwelcome to most of the officers of the Grand Fleet as it helped her do her job properly. Once more, she glanced toward the direction of Lord Alexander and another wistful smile appeared on her face as she reminded herself of the reason – and the excuse – that he had come up with to make sure that she remain by his side at all times.

Emma knew that if not for the man who was seated at the head of the table, she would have been drafted into one of the worst units in the history of the human race. It is true that women are not allowed to serve in the Imperial Fleet, but then again, the Military Assistance Group, the MAG, is outside the hierarchy of the Imperial Fleet.

'An entire corps of conscripted wizards and witches that are supposed to be answerable only to the Emperor,' Emma thought at the same time that she felt the bile rising in her throat as she thought about the methods of that unit with disgust. To the average person in the Empire – and indeed, even some of the not-so-average – the members of the MAG are criminals, hence, the reason why a part of their uniform would be the black choker collars around their neck.

There is a certain sense of truth in that common knowledge, however, for under the laws of the Holy Empire, a mage who is not under the purview of either the government or the Church of Holy Terra are criminals, and their sentence would be to serve the Empire until the day that death claims them. This is the reason why the MAG was formed, as a Special Forces type unit composed of witches and wizards who actually have no power to say 'no' even if the orders that they would be given would essentially be suicide missions.

Emma knew that she would not survive more than half a year in the MAG, and she knew this because the 'recruiter' from the unit had told her that before Lord Alexander swooped in and claimed her as his. The influence that the Duke of Washington – and his uncle, the Archduke of Belleview – wields is considerable, and in the face of such influence, even the secretive MAG would have to bend.

In order to justify his claim on her, Lord Alexander proclaimed her as his bodyguard, while subtly hinting at a more intimate relationship behind closed doors. He had taken a blow on his honor for such hints, but the High Admiral did not care, and neither did the Emperor who had, since then, signed off the promotion of Lord Alexander seven times. The Emperor – at the urging of the Archduke of Belleview – had also given Lord Alexander a Royal Warrant to form his own bodyguard unit.

A wistful smile came across the beautiful face of Emma as she thought about that. On paper, she is the commander of the Valkyries, a squad of seven members – her included – that is mainly tasked with the safety of Lord Alexander. Outside that paper, she is in command of the Valkyries, a squad of seven witches tasked with protecting Lord Alexander from magical and mundane threats.

Even amongst the fourteen staff and flag grade officers that are gathered at this table, there are very few who are aware of the magical nature of the Valkyrie Squad, but Emma was sure that all of them believe – at least to a certain extent – the rumors that the members of the squad are also available to Lord Alexander for more carnal activities, especially when the High Admiral himself would do nothing to dissuade those rumors.

A sigh escaped through the lips of Emma at that, but she made sure that no one could hear her sigh. It would seem that for her lord, he does not care about the rumors that would rear their ugly heads around him so long as it would not harm the conduct and the morale of his fleet. In any case, it was not as if anyone could blame him for having his own harem, after all, he is a member of the high nobility and, if anything, it would have been expected for him to have more than just seven girls at his beck and call.

"Io is the only remaining major port left in the hands of the Jovian League," the man who was seated directly to the right hand side of Lord Alexander said. Emma turned her attention toward that man just in time to watch him as he suggested, "Perhaps it is time for us to begin operations near their last remaining moon?"

Silence greeted the proposal, but Emma knew that it was not because the proposal would be unilaterally vetoed. On the contrary, the fact that it was greeted by silence meant that the brass was actually considering the proposal seriously.

"Perhaps that would be the correct action to take," Lord Alexander said, nodding toward the direction of the man who had made the suggestion, "Kevin, can you put that up to operations?"

Vice Admiral Kevin Francis Cline, chief-of-staff to Lord Alexander, inclined his head politely toward the direction of his commanding officer, "of course, sir," he replied.

The conversation in the room descended into one of the admirals jockeying for positions in the order of battle for the coming operation. Although she was still listening, if Emma were to be honest, what was entering her right ear was exiting through her left. The order of battle is not something that she should worry about, after all, that was outside of her duties. Still, that did not prevent her from wishing that this meeting would soon be over and done with so that she could escort her lord back to their room and she could have him all to her own again.

A few moments later, her eyes widened. She could not see what was coming, but she could feel it, and it was far faster than anything that Emma had ever experienced in her life. Almost instantly, she turned her attention toward the direction of her lord, only for her to find him focusing his attention toward his chief-of-staff.

'That's fine,' Emma thought to herself. There was no time to be subtle for whatever it was that she had felt approach was coming, and a corner of her mind estimated that she has less than twenty seconds to react.

The lieutenant did not really think of the consequences of her actions, she simply raised her hand toward the direction of her lord and willed for her magic to form a barrier around him. Her action caused some of the officers who were seated at the table to turn their attention toward her, and because he saw that most of his officers had turned their attention toward her, Lord Alexander also turned his attention toward the direction of Emma.

She barely saw the questioning expression on his face – no doubt he wanted to ask her what was happening – before the pulse hit them. the eyes of Emma widened as she felt the magical pulse slice through her body, and though it did her no damage, she was still worried, for she could feel the barrier that she had erected around her lord shatter upon impact of the magical pulse. She turned her attention toward him and the last thing that she saw was the concerned look on his face before her vision blackened.

Emma had no idea how much time had passed before she opened her eyes. The first thing that came to her mind was to turn her attention toward her lord, but when she tried to do that, she actually found herself alone and – to her distress – inside a corridor that she was sure she had never seen in her life before.

The corridor was a long hall with double-height ceilings and large windows every ten feet or so. There were also suits of armor that decorated the hall as well as paintings though for the life of her, she could not see the scenes that were depicted on the paintings. Emma knew that the first thing that an ordinary person would do when they found themselves in a situation similar to her would be to panic, but she reminded herself that she is not an ordinary person, 'I am a Valkyrie,' she reminded herself.

She walked forward, noting that the material used for the construction of the hallway appear to be stone of some sort. It took her a few minutes of walking before she caught sight of what appear to be another hallway that bisected the one that she found herself in, and – more importantly to Emma – she could hear the sound of people coming from that end.

The lieutenant quickened the pace with which she was walking and soon found herself staring at the other hallway. She fought the urge to gasp as she caught sight of more than a hundred men and women wearing dark robes walking and chatting amongst themselves. A few of them turned their attention toward her – indeed, a few of the more aristocratic looking ones with green highlights on the robes that they were wearing gave her a sneer as they walked pass her – but none of them even thought it strange for her to be there.

"So this is where you have been," a familiar voice from behind her said. Emma just knew that those words were meant for her, and she turned her attention toward the direction of where the familiar voice came from. There were two young men – 'boys would have been a more apt description,' she thought at the sight of them – behind her.

One of the boys had bright green eyes behind the glasses that he was wearing, while the other one had shockingly red hair that he evidently forgot to comb, "We've been looking all over for you," the boy with the bright green eyes and wearing glasses said. There was a note of concern on his voice when he said that but before she could say anything – indeed, she wanted to ask him who he was – he continued, "McGonagall said that we'll find you in the Library, but when we didn't see you there, we thought something had happened."

She did not reply right away, but it was not because she did not want to. She did not reply because she found out that she cannot even open her mouth to say anything, and evidently, that worried her two companions, "Hermione?" the green-eyed boy asked.

Emma blinked again. Less than a second had passed, but she suddenly found herself back inside the formal dining room of the hotel, with her hand still extended toward the direction of her lord who was now looking at her with a concerned expression on his face. Even more embarrassing for her, however, was the fact that all pairs of eyes in the room was focused on her.

Slowly, she lowered her arm and turned her full attention toward Lord Alexander, "My apologies, sir," she began, reminding herself that in a military setting, Lord Alexander does not want to be referred to as 'My Lord'.

Lord Alexander waved the apology aside, "I understand that something had happened, but we would talk about it later," he said.

Aboard the Orion Visage,

Asteroid Belt, Holy Empire of Britannia

There was only one person inside the science room who was not blinded by the sudden flash of light, but if that person was being honest with himself, the reason why he was not blinded by that flash of light was because it came from him, and as such, he was ready for the sudden burst of light that made everyone else cover – or at least close – their eyes.

Harry James Potter took complete advantage of the fact that everyone inside the room except for him has closed their eyes in response to the light that erupted from the magical prison that he had just broken out of. It is true that it only took five seconds, but the five seconds that everyone had closed their eyes was more than enough for Harry to take note of everything inside the room.

If he was being honest, he would have to admit that he also cheated. There was not a single speck of blood left on the floor of the room, and that was something that he was sure everyone inside the room would have found curious – at least – given that there are probably a dozen dead people inside the room at that point. The truth was that Harry had absorbed the blood of those who have died – and even from some of those who have not – in order to get the strength that he would need to break the magical prison.

After all, that damned rock had kept him locked inside by making sure that anything and everything that has his blood cannot get out. By using the blood of those who have died, he was able to coat the magical sensors inside the prison, fooling them into thinking that it was someone else who was inside the prison rather than the man that they are supposed to be keeping inside. After that, it was a simple matter of overpowering the sensors with his own magic to force them to open the prison.

Absorbing the blood of the dead and the dying also gave Harry another advantage, and that is the fact that he had also absorbed the memories of those who had shed the blood that he had absorbed.

With that, Harry did not need to ask himself what was going on the moment that he stepped out of his prison, for he already knew what was happening. Still, that did not mean that he immediately went to work disposing of the pirates that are still in the room. His old comrades may have labeled him a 'Dark Lord' – and to a certain extent, Harry would have agreed with them – but that did not mean that he is not going to give his enemies a chance to fight back, and that was the reason why he waited for the pirates inside the room to open their eyes first.

As Harry had expected, the fact that he was standing where no one had been standing before surprised the pirates, and before anyone of them – indeed, before the remaining civilians inside the room could ask anything – could even think, one of the pirates turned toward Harry and asked, "Who the hell are you?"

Harry smiled at him, "Somehow, I knew that that would be the first thing that you would ask me," the mage said. He, however, has no intention of engaging the pirates in conversation, and before anyone could again react, the pirate that had spoken was screaming as he felt his blood flowing from the very tips of his fingers as they made their way toward Harry. The moment that his blood hit his skin, they disappeared, absorbed by the Master of Death who reviewed the memories of the pirate that had just killed.

Just as expected, the spectacle in front of them caught the pirates by surprise, and for a few moments, all of them just stared at him as if they cannot believe what they are seeing. It was truly a disappointment for Harry because he wanted to deploy his magic shield and see if it would stop the advance small arms that the pirates are carrying. From the memories that he had absorbed, he learned that while humans are now capable of flying through space regularly – when he had been imprisoned, that was still a dream – they have not found a way to miniaturize laser technology enough for use in small arms, and from the memory of the pirates – and indeed, even from some of the dead students – he can tell that ships in this age still use projectiles to slug it out with each other.

Harry shook his head there and then, before he reminded the pirates that he was their opponent with a simple slashing motion with his left hand. Almost instantly, two of the pirates lost their head, and as the blood gushed out of their cut necks, Harry jumped forward, throwing himself toward the direction of one of the pirates who managed to scream even as he raised his rifle.

The pirate was still screaming even as he pulled the trigger, emptying his clip in a little less than five seconds, but even with that rate of fire – one hundred rounds in five seconds – none of the rounds hit Harry, and the scream of the pirate was abruptly cut off at the same time that his head flew from his neck.

"Surround him! Surround him!" the pirate leader commanded his remaining men. Although the remaining pirates tried their best to comply with the orders of their commander, it was still a futile attempt. Harry merely picked them off one by one, and the Master of Death did not even had to resort to the use of his long-range magic again, he simply appeared in front of the unfortunate pirate and cut off his head before moving on to the next one.

In less than two minutes, Harry had managed to finish no less than a dozen pirates, and just because he wanted to, he left the leader of the pirates as the last one. He also cut off the legs of the pirate leader first, and as the torso of the man fell to the ground with a sickening sound, Harry appeared in front of him.

"Who…who are you?" the dying pirate asked, but even as he asked that question, he tried to draw his sidearm – which he kept at his side – so that he could fire at Harry. For his efforts, Harry cut off his right arm though by this time, the brain of the man had been overwhelmed with the pain, Harry was sure that even if he were to burn the man, he would not scream anymore.

Instead, the Master of Death decided to answer the question of the man, but the answer that he provided did not actually answer the question of the man, for there was no way that the pirate leader would have understood what Harry meant when he said that he is the 'Boy-who-Lived'. The last thought of the pirate leader was how he could send some sort of signal to the bridge of his ship to disengage, but by the time that he could even begin to think of an answer to his own question, his brain had already started to cease functioning. He was dead less than a fraction of a second later.

There were still people inside the room who were left alive, but none of them are pirates. A sigh escaped through the lips of Harry before he stood up straight and made his way toward where one of the survivors was attempting to crawl toward the direction of the exit of the room.

Even from where he was standing, he could tell that she was uninjured, but at the same time, Harry knew the reason why she refused to stand, after all, if she were to stand, then he would see her and she worry that he might use that as an excuse to cut her into two, literally.

Still, it amused him to see the woman trying to run away from him, and before he knew it, she was standing in front of him, blocking the way to freedom, "Please…," the woman – whom Harry recognized as Doctor Hayley Altwood from the memories that he had taken from the students – begged him.

She had a look of terror on her eyes and Harry realized that he really could not blame her, "Please, don't hurt me," the professor said. From the memories that he had absorbed, Harry knew that Hayley begging was something that does not happen often. Despite this, there was still the question of whether or not he should let her live.

'Underneath that gruff exterior, she really is beautiful,' Harry thought to himself at the same time that he placed his left hand on the chin of the woman. He admired her features for a few moments before he closed his eyes and allowed his senses to extend away from him. He had expected that at least one of his anchors would remain intact – after all, he was still alive even after so many years – but he still had to visibly stop himself from destroying everything in his sight when he only got a faint signal from one of his anchors, confirming his earlier suspicions.

'Damn you, Ronald Weasley,' Harry thought. He opened his eyes and once more made Hayley focus her attention at him, "What," he began before Hayley could say or do anything, "would you give me if I decide to let you live?"

He knew that she really was not thinking about the consequences of the words that would come out of her mouth when he asked her that question, so he was not surprise with the answer that escaped from her mouth a few moments later, "Anything," Hayley said, "Anything that you want."

A smile appeared on the face of Harry, "Do remember that that is what you had said, professor," he said, and before she could begin to wonder how in hell he knew that she was a professor, Harry made a single motion with his right hand and the eyelids of Hayley dropped over her eyes. She really could not do anything but allow the sweet embrace of sleep to overpower her.

Harry knew that by the time she would wake up, her world would be different from the one that she had already left, even if she cannot yet accept that fact.

"Now then," Harry said at the same time that he turned his gaze toward the other remaining survivors inside the room, "What shall I do with the rest of you?"