Random idea I had. I think I need a few dark one-shots to balance out the sweetness and light that is Ultimate Force.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. Though I'd like to organise something with the Patil twins...
Albus Dumbledore looked uncharacteristically grim as he surveyed the scene. This was an improvement over the Auror team that was supposed to be investigating the obvious crimes that had been committed here - they were all busy throwing up.
In truth, Dumbledore couldn't blame them. They hadn't seen what he had witnessed during the muggle Second World War. He had been forced to investigate several German concentration camps on his way to confronting Grindelwald, including notable places such as Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen and Dachau. The memories of those locations were seared into his mind, and he dared not commit them to a pensieve for fear that somebody else might view them and be tormented by the true horror of what man could do to man when properly motivated.
He himself had not slept properly for the past 25 years. It took sheer willpower to avoid a Dreamless Sleep potion addiction.
The contents of the small house he was now visiting brought the worst parts of his history with Grindelwald back. It had been the home of a small magical family - two muggleborn parents and their children. It wasn't any more. The mother was dead, apparently after having been gang-raped. The healer's analysis - before the poor woman had gone into shock - was that the husband had been involved. There were signs of the Imperius curse on the poor man, though to Albus the look of horror on his face was enough evidence.
The young boy couldn't have been more than three years old. That hadn't stopped whoever had done this from nailing the child to the wall before using him as target practice for low-power cutting spells. It must have taken the poor child some time to finally die from blood loss.
The girl was slightly older, at 6. She too had been raped, in addition to extensive Cruciatus exposure. She had been finished off with the Killing Curse, which by the time it came must have been almost merciful.
The Headmaster turned from the scene of depraved violence and walked outside. Hovering over the house was a ghostly image - a skull with a snake protruding from the mouth. Apparently it was the calling card of whoever had done this. Albus' expression hardened slightly, as he turned to the senior Auror on duty - the only one who had control over his stomach.
"Well, Alastor, do you have any evidence as to who might have done this?"
Moody glowered. "Nothing I can use. All the evidence is circumstantial at best and isn't anything I could use to start a proper investigation. No witnesses. The spell traces are too vague. But I can give you a load of suspects who could probably give you chapter and verse with enough Veritaserum in them."
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "What makes you suspect these people?"
Alastor shrugged. "Their public statements in the Wizengamot, their associations with like-minded individuals, suspicious behaviour that was only just innocent enough to keep them out of my reach...I have no doubts. I know who did this, or at least I know who would know the people who did this. I just don't have a shred of evidence that would allow me to take any official action."
Albus nodded. "Give me your list. I may have some resources that can help."
The grizzled Auror nodded. "I'll owl it to you once I'm back at the office."
Dumbledore nodded, before he turned and apparated back to Hogwarts.
"Mr Lestrange, we meet again." A pleasant voice stated. The kindly tone and banal greeting did little to off-set the unpleasant experience of being bound tightly to a chair.
"What is the meaning of this?" Lestrange demanded.
"I am told that you might know some things that I am interested in, Mr Lestrange. That is why I invited you here for a little chat." The voice continued, as a figure moved within Lestrange's field of vision. The bound man's eyes widened as he recognised his apparent captor.
"Dumbledore! What the hell are you playing at?" He half shouted.
Albus merely raised an eyebrow. "Playing? My dear boy, I stopped playing back in 1945, when I dealt with Grindelwald. This is no game, Mr Lestrange, this is an interrogation. You have information I need, and you are going to give it to me."
Lestrange scoffed. "What makes you think I'm going to tell you anything? Let me go, old man, and maybe I'll refrain from getting the Aurors to throw you in prison for the rest of your life."
"Amusing, you seem to think you have a choice in this matter." Dumbledore said with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "You are going to tell me everything I want to know, and I have all the tools required to get that information. I have many questions, starting with that tattoo on your arm and working through to what you've been doing with your spare time lately. And just to make sure..."
The kindly old Headmaster produced a small bottle from a pocket. Lestrange's eyes widened as he recognised the label.
"Veritaserum, Mr Lestrange. I know you have no resistance to it. Now let's make sure you get three drops and no more, I don't want you to die before I'm finished..."
Two days later, Lestrange was found wandering down the main street of Hogsmeade with no memory of what had happened to him. Nobody picked up on the small traces that indicated ingestion of Veritaserum, and nobody was qualified to detect the signs of forced Legilimency probing.
Explosions rocked the Nott family manor, startling the occupants as they sat at a long table in the old great hall. Everybody quickly looked to the person at the head of the table, who was already on his feet.
"It would seem that we are under attack," Lord Voldemort said calmly, "let us show these idiots just why nobody should oppose me."
The assembled Death Eaters smiled gleefully, and turned to meet the attacking force. The first person out of the door of the hall instantly turned into a bloody mist as he was hit by over a dozen high-powered hexes.
"Ambush! Out of the windows!" Voldemort screamed, as he took to the air.
Dumbledore watched as his small army moved through the grounds of the old manor with practiced efficiency. It was not widely known that he had not been alone when he had finally ended the reign of Grindelwald. He had, in fact, been aided by a large group of highly trained Aurors and Hit Wizards from Britain, Canada, Australia and the United States of America. While none of these magical soldiers had been acting with official sanction from any of their respective Ministries, behind the scenes they had all enjoyed full government support.
With that support had come training, and access to archives of magic normally kept sealed. Grindelwald had ultimately been defeated by the fact that his opponents had been freely using offensive magics that had been kept a secret for so long that hardly anybody knew that they had ever existed.
The reason for the secrecy? The sheer power and effectiveness of the hexes. Not to mention the brutality and general nastiness of them. Albus had been violently sick the first time he had used one of the "Forgotten Magics" on a human being, and had only ever used them as a last resort thereafter.
Now, however, the old spells were getting a good work-out as his old allies attacked the "Death Eater" gathering that his intelligence sources had said was taking place. Dumbledore had known that he would need help to deal with any new Dark Lord, and the old crew was the fastest way of getting it. It had only taken a fortnight of practice to get themselves back up to speed - one of the Australians had said that it was "just like riding a bike".
Albus had ridden muggle bicycles before. They weren't nearly as bloody as this particular exercise was.
So far, they had cleaned out (and then levelled) two of the buildings. The great hall had been kept for last as they had known that the main opponents were congregated there. Highly classified scrying charms had given them a good count of the number of occupants, leaving them to conduct the usual drill of erecting anti-transportation wards before launching the attack.
Dumbledore was keeping count. The "Death Eaters" had lost two thirds of their numbers already. The one called "Voldemort" had been seen flying out of a window, much to everyone's surprise. Self-levitation on that level was an extremely rare skill. It hadn't helped the so-called Dark Lord, however, as Dumbledore's Army (as one of the Canadians had dubbed the eclectic group, much to Albus' dismay and everyone else's great amusement) was well practiced at hitting airborne targets.
After all, they had practiced during the war with banishing charms on falling muggle bombs. That kind of learning environment encouraged quick reflexes and good aim.
Voldemort swore as he was forced to the ground. He was losing followers rapidly and could not see that his efforts were making any impact on the attacking force - curses were dodged or blocked with summoned rocks, of which there were plenty thanks to the destroyed buildings.
Evidently, the old men he could see were very, very good at this kind of thing.
His emergency port-key had already been tried and found wanting. Apparation was similarly blocked, and the floo had been destroyed with the main residential part of the manor. His loyal followers were taking spell-fire from all sides, a sure sign that they were surrounded.
There was nothing left to do but gather his force together and try to punch a hole through the cordon that encircled them. Shouting orders, he turned towards the nearby forested area that was the traditional hunting ground of the Nott family.
Albus allowed himself a small smile as he saw the change in tactics. It meant that the enemy knew that they were completely outclassed and was now just trying to escape. Time to close the trap.
"Bravo force, move in to November sector. Enemy force trying to escape to forest." He murmured into a magically amplified microphone that would pick up every order he gave regardless of the background noise. A series of clicks answered him as his reserves moved in to block Voldemort's chosen escape path.
"All other units, tighten the noose. I want prisoners for interrogation."
Several hours later, Voldemort and 4 of his followers were brought to Dumbledore. Magical inhibitors had been applied to all five prisoners, built into the bindings that prevented them from moving a muscle.
"Well well well. I thought it might be you, Tom. My, how far you have fallen." Dumbledore said equably as he surveyed the sorry group that was all that was left of the Death Eaters.
Voldemort glared. It would have been impressive had he been in a position to do anything more. "You'll never get away with this, Dumbledore. Attacking the manor, killing people, all with no legal sanction or justification! The Wizengamot will crucify you for this!"
Albus remained completely unruffled. "Why, Tom, what makes you think the Wizengamot will ever know about this? I see no reason to bother them with something as trivial as a failed insurrection such as this."
Voldemort's rant was cut off as an icy feeling ran down his spine. "Just how are you going to hide the deaths of so many purebloods?"
The Supreme Mugwump smiled gently. "Obviously, there was an illegal potion brewing operation going on here that went tragically wrong. I saw a massive explosion as I was attending a reunion of my old friends. Such a shame about those caught up in the blast, but then again they should not have been brewing illegally the way they were..."
Voldemort scoffed. "You think that story will hold up for a minute? Once we're in front of the court..."
"You won't see court, Tom." Dumbledore said harshly. "I once allowed a Dark Lord to go, as I was unwilling to do what was required to put an end to his madness. Thousands of wizards and witches paid for my cowardice, and millions of muggles. Never again, Tom. The Ministry may not have been able to stop you thanks to the law getting in the way, but I am not going to allow anything as trivial as signed pieces of parchment prevent me from eradicating monsters such as yourself before you are a serious problem."
Dumbledore looked at the smouldering wreckage on the battlefield, before he returned his attention to the man once called Tom Riddle. "Nobody is ever going to find out about what happened here. You and your surviving followers are going to tell us everything we want to know about yourselves, your plans and your resources. We may have to use Legilimency and Veritaserum until your minds are destroyed, but we will find out what we want to know. After that..."
Dumbledore walked a short distance and picked up a broken wand that was lying next to a fallen beam timber. He studied it for a few moments, before a flash incinerated it in his hand.
Voldemort's eyes widened as he realised that the old man had cast FiendFyre wandlessly in the palm of his hand, without even feeling the heat.
"After that, Tom, you and your followers will be liabilities. Liabilities that will just have to disappear. Fortunately, we are very, very good at making things disappear."
Dumbledore sighed, before he allowed the ashes of the destroyed wand fall from his hand. He turned back to the prisoners and regarded them steadily.
"Take them away, gentlemen. I have a Ministry to talk to. I must inform the Minister of the tragic deaths of so many pureblooded wizards in this horrible accident. Such a shame that there were no survivors, even though we looked as diligently as possible."
Author's notes: The basic idea is that this Dumbledore was badly scarred by some of the things he saw during WW2. So much so that when the first signs of Death Eater activity start to show, he throws the rule-book out the window and goes after them with ruthless efficiency and a willingness to do anything it takes to deal with the problem early.
If that means killing every Death Eater after mind-raping them of all the information he needs, then so be it. He's willing to throw his own moral code out the window if it means preventing another Final Solution.
After this, the interrogation of Riddle reveals everything regarding the Horcruxes. Dumbledore and his allies promptly secure and destroy them, before discreetly arranging to have Riddle and his followers thrown through the Veil of Death (Albus has contacts in the right places to have this happen in secret).
Regarding the date - best information I have is that the first overt Death Eater activity started in 1970. This is 25 years after Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald.