3rd July 1994
Hogwarts
Luna Lovegood was an odd girl, in her two years at Hogwarts she had been bullied mercilessly by older girls for it.
At first, she had come to terms with it, after all, it was only for a few months of the year and then she could go home to Daddy and together they would go Snorkack hunting.
Then her father was killed mysteriously, and she was taken in by the Headmaster. She was stuck at Hogwarts permanently.
Luna had left Hogwarts in over eight months, the longest she had ever stayed at school and she was lonely and sad.
The house elves tried to cheer her up, but she just couldn't bring herself to smile, why should she? Her parents were both dead, one murdered mysteriously. Cho Chang and her friends bullied Luna whenever they saw her, stealing her clothes and books for days on end and some of the older boys were starting to notice her. They did not see a potential girlfriend or someone to get to know, instead, they saw a weak vulnerable girl with no protection, and she was sure that as soon as she hit adolescence properly, they would descend on her like starving hounds.
It was safe to say she was not in a good place.
So, when she was called into the Headmaster's office in early July, she was not sure what to expect. Indeed, she did not particularly care what happened anyway, her life could only get worse and she was starting to come to terms with that realisation.
"Ah, Luna my dear! How have your holidays been so far?" The jovial Headmaster asked her.
She tried to perk up, she really did, before she replied in a rather monotone voice,
"Delightful Professor Dumbledore."
"Wonderful! Now I have someone who dearly wants to meet you. Would you consent to meet him?" Professor Dumbledore asked in his best grandfatherly voice.
Luna was tempted to tell him to go to hell and leave it at that but instead, she merely nodded and for the first time noticed a man walk out of the shadows.
"Hello, Ms Lovegood."
Ares spoke for the first time since she had entered the room, and for the first time in twenty years, he felt guilty. It was like a blow to his gut seeing the defeated look in the normally peppy girl.
It made him want to tear the world down and rebuild it in the perfect image just for her, she was truly the best the wizarding world had to offer in terms of innocence.
"Hello sir, how can I help you?" She asked with an emotionless voice.
He could physically feel the pain growing in his stomach as he watched her act as if she was not entirely there.
It wouldn't do at all, he needed to do something.
"I was wondering how you feel about living at Hogwarts?" He asked gently.
"The Headmaster and teachers are very kind, but I miss Daddy." It was the first time he felt the emotion in her voice, sadness drowned her tone.
"I am incredibly sorry for your loss," Ares replied truthfully, he genuinely regretted killing her father now and if possible, he would go back in time and stop himself.
"That's nice. Thank you." Luna continued still looking down.
"Luna this is Lord Peverell, he wants to adopt you." Albus interrupted, eager to get on with the talk.
The Dark Lord nearly killed Albus Dumbledore there and then for being so blunt and insensitive.
She looked up at that,
"Are you sure Lord Peverell, lots of people say I'm odd and that nobody likes me. You might not want me after you get to know me." She replied meekly.
'Those people deserve to burn!' Ares thought subconsciously flaring his magical aura angrily.
Luna was surprised by this, unused to people caring, studying the man closely.
She could see the guilt and anger burning away behind his eyes, but she didn't know why. He had couldn't have killed Daddy, why would he? It didn't benefit him and if he just wanted to kill someone, he could have chosen a random muggle!
"I would be honoured if you would allow me to care for you and would swear a promise to you that you would never be harmed again while in my care." He replied forcefully.
Albus wasn't sure why Lord Peverell seemed so affected by the young girl but it could only be a good thing.
"Will I live with you?" She asked quietly.
"For as long as you want. Will you let me adopt you?" Ares asked softly.
"Ok, it should be interesting," Luna said with a shrug.
"Wonderful! Here are the papers." Albus informed them bringing out an already partially signed stack of papers from his desk.
Conjuring a quill inside his sleeve and letting it slide out Ares signed in the place of new guardian/parent.
It was rather anticlimactic as there was no flash of magic due to it being a purely legal contract.
"Come, Luna, I think it best we get you settled in before the end of the day. Thank you, Albus, we will speak later." Ares spoke standing up and motioning for Luna to follow.
She followed obediently head still in the clouds, waving goodbye to the Headmaster as the flames flashed green and then she was gone.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
Peverell Manor
With a flash of green flames, Luna Lovegood and Ares Peverell-Slytherin appeared in the main hallway of his manor.
Narcissa was there waiting to usher them into the dining room for lunch.
It was a quiet lunch at first, Luna absorbed in her grief, Ares in his guilt before Narcissa decided she had gone long enough and attempted to start a conversation with the small girl.
"Luna dear, I hear you like interesting and exotic animals, care to name a few?"
The small girl perked up at the mention of animals, her Scamander blood shining through.
"Well, there are nargles and wrackspurts, which I have been suffering a rather large infestation of recently, then there are different kinds of Plimpy, but my all-time favourite has to be the Crumple-horned Snorkack." She explained with the first smile Ares had seen on her since the Headmaster's office.
Narcissa true to her upbringing did not show any surprise and immediately latched onto the conversation like the socialite she was.
"Where would you find this creature? the Crumple-horned Snorkack that is."
"Well it very much depends on how crumpled you want their horns to be, Sweden has my favourite kind, their horns are nearly perfect with only slight crumpling." Luna decided.
"Sweden also has tall, beautiful blondes," Ares said with a smile.
Luna looked confused while Narcissa smacked her lover with an irritated look in her eyes.
"You must show us one day Luna, I'm sure Ares would love to come with you on a camping trip to see them," Narcissa said with a smug smile.
"Really?!" She asked, voice full of hope.
Ares tried to say no, he really did, but he couldn't so he did the next best thing.
"Of course, Luna! It can be our very first trip together, all three of us." He said sweetly, while pointedly looking at Narcissa, who he knew for a fact hated camping.
"That sounds great! When can we go?" Luna asked excitedly, it seemed, for now, she had partially forgotten her grief, and hopefully, by the time the summer holidays were over, she would be back to herself.
"Well, we have the rest of the month till the world cup so reasonably soon I suppose. I'll book an international portkey to Stockholm for a couple of weeks from now." Ares decided.
Sirius walked in as Ares finished talking,
"What's this I hear about Sweden? planning on going on holiday without Harry and me again already!" He mumbled as he sat down, still half asleep and began eating almost automatically.
Luna couldn't help giggling at the sight of the man who seemed to be in his own little world, something she could relate to.
Looking up he noticed her for the first time,
"Who would this lovely little girl be?" He asked, flashing her a smile as he noticed they had guests and his incessant need to make good first impressions on women no matter how old or young kicked in as he sat up straight.
Luna giggled again as she saw Narcissa roll her eyes.
"Good afternoon Sirius." The pureblood lady greeted him, emphasizing 'afternoon'
This flew over the heir to the most ancient and noble house of Black's head as he suddenly looked around before asking,
"Where is Harry?"
Ares shrugged looking to Narcissa, he hadn't been in the manor for the last couple of hours.
"In the library trying to read, he is very excited to see his friends again, the poor boy can't seem to sit still." She told them.
"Hello, Mr Stubby Boardman! I recognised you from the paper! My name is Luna." Luna addressed Sirius.
"Uh hello, I'm sorry to tell you but I'm Sirius I'm not Stubby Boardman."
Narcissa actually threw a fork at Sirius for the bad pun.
"Please ignore him, Luna, he's more like a dog we found on the streets than my cousin." She explained to the young girl.
This seemed to make sense to Luna as she nodded seriously at the claim.
"That reminds me, perhaps it would be for the best if you took Luna shopping while Harry's friends are here Cissy. I'm not sure I like the idea of people like Ron Weasley being near you or Luna, he seems to be rather blunt with his opinions and Luna is in no condition to listen to him." Ares ordered as much as he suggested to Narcissa.
They had about half an hour before Ron and Granger appeared and knowing the bushy-haired bitch he should probably raise the protections on his libraries. Didn't want her taking a couple of books without his permission, not that he would ever give it.
"Come Luna darling, we must buy you some new clothes and anything else you want, I'm sure Flourish and Botts have a large magical creature' section for us to purchase." Narcissa declared turning to leave.
There was a flash of flames and it became quite clear that they had gone.
"Sirius, do me a favour, don't burn my Manor down while I'm away."
The Black Heir nodded with a wave of his hand motioning for Ares to leave already.
Sighing he disapparated from his seat leaving Sirius alone at the table.
"Dobby I'll have a bottle of whisky now!"
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
Harry couldn't wait to see Ron and Hermione! His holiday in Spain with Sirius had been amazing, he couldn't wait to tell them all about it.
He had met a few really pretty girls who had seemed to like him, and the potions Sirius had given him were turning him into a healthy size and weight. Harry was vain enough to say he knew his eyes were his best feature so before they left, he had procured some contact lenses from the muggle world.
They had run out, but he had bought new glasses now with much nicer frames and felt he looked much better now.
Sirius told him that they were the only people in the manner, Luna, a new member of the household had gone shopping with Narcissa and could be expected to be gone for at least four hours.
Lord Peverell and Ares were nowhere to be seen, Harry assumed they had their own things to do so he didn't pry and merely waited in the hall for his friends.
For the third time that day the fireplace flashed with green flames and Hermione and Ron came tumbling out.
The youngest son of the Weasley family was immediately uncomfortable, surrounded by the obvious luxury and wealth his friend was now living in.
"Bloody hell mate! This is seriously Malfoyesque. Who owns this place again?" He swore loudly seeing an art piece worth more than his entire house alone.
"Ron! Weren't you listening! This is Lord Ares Peverell Senior's family Manor, the newest member of the Wizengamoat, owner of Peverell Industries, promoter of muggleborn rights and special advisor to Ministers Oblansk of Magical Bulgaria and Fudge! He is everything purebloods should be. I heard he plans to open magical Universities in Magical Bulgaria with the help of the royal family that will teach advanced magic for masteries and require you to have a basic understanding of muggle science, maths, and English. I've already started saving up to attend! Can you imagine it? Muggle subjects combined with Magic! Bigoted purebloods will blow their tops. Apparently, there isn't any prejudice in Magical Bulgaria and their school system is already being prized highly by the educational community. If I wasn't so sure Hogwarts was the best I would go, there!" Hermione exclaimed, not even stopping to breathe.
"Wow, Hermione! You really have done your research! I guess Cousin Ares really is amazing." Harry said with a smile and a shrug.
"Would you like a tour?" He continued.
Both teenagers nodded, following him as he described everything he could passing through bedrooms and living rooms before eventually reaching the library.
Harry dramatically pushed open the double doors to the library with great exertion of force.
He heard Hermione gasp, which while he was expecting was still incredibly amusing.
"Harry this is incredible! It's nearly as big as Hogwarts library and most of these books must be older than Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione exclaimed, almost appearing to multiply as she moved with the speed of the gods examining anything that caught her fancy.
"Some of these books aren't even in the restricted section! Take this one, for example, Ye olde charms for books." Hermione said holding up an old tome,
"Or this one about specialised light curses! This much knowledge shouldn't be hoarded by a select few! Although I'm pretty sure at least a third of these books are illegal in Britain."
Harry just shook his head in amusement before replying,
"This is nothing, most ancient families like the Peverells have much smaller libraries full of family magic and a grimoire with spells invented by family members or thought to be particularly useful over the years." Instead of amazing Hermione as he expected it seemed to horrify her even more.
"You mean to tell me there are hundreds of spells that have been invented that only specific families ever even have the chance to learn!" She nearly screeched.
"Uh... yes?" Harry replied meekly.
"Show me!" She ordered before dragging him out of the library until he took charge and lead her to the mysterious door seemingly built into the stairway.
"In here but it's locked." He explained hoping to discourage his friend.
"A pity, what should we do now?" She asked.
Ron who had been oddly quiet until now and Harry looked at each other and after having a sort of mental conversation both cried out "QUIDDITCH!"
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
Diagon Alley
Luna and Narcissa had finished buying half the Alley when Narcissa decided it would be nice to go out for supper in Muggle London.
"Come dear!" Narcissa took the time to look Luna over, who looked a lot better with new clothes and a slight spring in her step as she patted the pocket with the whole of Flourish and Bott's shrunken magical creatures' section.
Walking down one of the shadier streets to find a restaurant quicker they were stopped by a group of young men, all looking rather thuggish as they walked out of an unlit alleyway.
"Ello, love! fancy a bit of a tumble?" The lead thug asked with a dangerous smile.
"I don't think so, we'll be on our way now," Narcissa said with a sneer before moving forward.
The young man pushed her back roughly.
"I don't think so lady, my mates and I would love a quick kiss before you leave." He growled.
Conducting herself Narcissa turned to Luna,
"Cover your ears and don't look. If we must you thug, let's go back into that alley of yours." She said with a smile that didn't match her tone of voice.
Luna did as she was told and covered her ears and turned away, worried for the woman who had been so nice to her unlike everyone else.
A few screams later and some almost visibly loud cracking later and Narcissa walked out of the alley looking none the worse for wear except for licking her lips, her fangs weirdly elongated.
"Come, Luna let us go home, I am suddenly no longer hungry." She said with a smirk, entwining her arm in the young girls and disapparating them back to the manor.
It would be a couple of hours before the bodies were found, one man survived barely, although he was unable to answer any of the police's questions as all he could mutter was,
"Only her master touches her, only her master touches her, only her master touches her."
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
Four hours ago, just after Ares left the manor.
He appeared with silent ripple in the air in the depths of the Scottish Highlands. Dobby had been perhaps the biggest help in discovering everything he could about his Animagus form.
He was a whopping eight five foot of predator and his eyes could kill up to twenty foot. He was more than four times the size of Salazar Slytherin's basilisk which was incredible.
He was already thinking of ways to use his new form to his advantage, his main priority is to learn how to partially transform his eyes so he could kill with a look alone. Now that would be cool!
The problem was until he learned how to control his abilities, he couldn't be around the people he cared about.
So, he had taken to practising in Fort Slytherin where his basilisk task force was based. Thirty-five members strong now they were each in charge of a group of Aurors from Bulgaria that they were to train and search for any talent that could be scouted for the hit team.
Each group was five strong with a healer in each and altogether that meant there were a hundred and seventy-five men and women milling around the fort.
The one hundred and forty hit team members have still sworn their loyalty to Prince Slytherin, but they were not brainwashed and could not be trusted to be completely loyal.
They were very helpful in capturing Dark and Light wizards for Ares to test his killing gaze on. Only the weak ones of course, after all, why would he waste perfectly good powerful candidates for his army?
Neither Minister Oblansk nor Narcissa knew the scale on which he was recruiting. The minister ran the day to day operations of Bulgaria, but magical law enforcement was directly in the hands of Mr Chung who reported only to Ares.
For example, while the public was focusing on House Slytherin becoming the ruling family of Bulgaria Lord Peverell had orchestrated the takeover of Magical Romania. The larger country hadn't stood a chance against the vastly superior Aurors trained and led by Ares and his loyal followers.
The government had been toppled and Magical Bucharest was suffering an upheaval as Bulgaria took over the running of the magical side of the country.
The magical population of twenty thousand was twice the size of Bulgaria and already had a reasonably stable system with purebloods at the top, although half-bloods were included in the nepotism of the ruling class.
Much to the Dark Lord's amusement much of the ruling class were connected to vampires in some way and had been badly shaken when Count Dracula had been killed mysteriously and his mistresses had disappeared.
That last part concerned Ares, but it was worth the trouble as the head of the vampire conclave in Romania, Adrian Ivashkov, had sworn loyalty to the Dark lord's cause when he learnt of how Ares had eliminated the much more powerful Count.
Roughly a thousand pureblood vampires resided in Transylvania and many were not happy that they were now following a wizard, but they had to obey their sires who had bent the knee.
They were a powerful fighting force, especially at night and Ares was already considering adding a few to his hit team.
He had a few plans and fantasises but those could wait.
The remaining defenders were holed up in Satu Mare blending in with the muggles fighting a guerrilla war. Ares planned to hand over the reins of the country to Ivan the moment they were gone.
Mr Chung already had plans to implement a city-wide anti-apparation and anti-portkey ward field and send in two thousand Aurors to hunt down and systematically kill off the hundred or so remaining fighters.
Currently, the magical Romanian population hated their invaders but a
Ares hoped Ivan could change that with his pro-people policies.
Focusing his magic around his eyes he opened them before looking at the first prisoner. Nothing happened.
"Well fuck, I was sure that would work," Ares swore.
"Te rog, nu mă omorî!" (Please don't kill me!) The prisoner cried out in fear.
"What are you saying? I really need to ensure English is taught in all the countries under my rule!" Ares said with a shrug.
'Let's try magic in my eyes instead of around them.'
Channelling his magic again he felt the process of morphing begin again and directed the feeling to only his eyes.
The next thing he heard was a scream as the prisoner in front of him died releasing their bowels.
"Disgusting."
Finished he disapparated back to his manor.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
Peverell Manor
Ron and Harry were still playing Quidditch, but Hermione wasn't interested. She couldn't get the idea of the grimoire out of her mind! She had to see it! Read it! It was her right as a witch and member of the British wizarding community. Lord Peverell would understand, not that she planned for him to find out.
She had memorized the way back to the mysterious locked door in the stairway and made it there in record time.
Obviously, it was locked but she felt confident she could get in, she was the brightest witch of her generation.
A quick unlocking charm that she had used in her first year at Hogwarts and she was faced with another set of steps. She crept quietly down the stairs making no sound as she looked warily around.
When she opened the door at the bottom of the steps she gasped loudly, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, a library with books that looked older than the manor itself.
At the very back of the room was a pedestal with a book that seemed to be begging to be opened.
She read the gold embossed letters on the front with something akin to awe, 'PEVERELL GRIMOIRE'
The pull on her mind to grab it and read was growing with every step she took towards it.
"STOP!" Came a squeaky voice out of nowhere.
Hermione jumped in shock, snapped out of the trance by the loud voice.
"Who's there? Stay back!" She cried out.
"Missy Hermie you shouldn't be back here! Is no's allowed by Master." Dobby called out again appearing from behind a bookcase.
"Dobby! What are you doing here? I thought you were free after the Lucius Malfoy debacle!" Hermione shouted in surprise.
"I will be good house elf now! Have a proper master!" The little creature exclaimed happily before turning serious and snapping his fingers.
Hermione found herself outside again just as the boys were landing.
"Hello Hermione, enjoy watching?" Ron asked, puffing up his chest.
"Yes..." She answered head in the clouds wondering what had just happened.
"We better go before mum goes ballistic! We'll see you later Harry!" Ron said grabbing Hermione and pulling her along.
Together they made it back to the floo with Ron rushing through calling out Number 13 Grimmauld place.
Just as Hermione was about to do the same, she was stopped by a cool almost arrogant voice.
"You're lucky Granger, I could have had you killed for that." Ares Peverell junior spoke out from the stairs.
Hermione turned read in shame before replying, "You can't kill me for being curious."
"No, I don't suppose I can, but breaking and entering is a whole other ballpark in the wizarding world, and conspiracy to commit theft! I saw how the Weasley was looking at things if he took anything, he would find himself missing a house and his family jobs. Watch yourself, Granger." He said with a sneer before the flames in the furnace turned green and Hermione was shoved through by some unseen force.
"Good riddance. Dobby next time you see her in there knock her out and leave her to stew in the dungeons at the Fort for a while. If it continues, I'll kill her myself." Ares sneered again.
"Yes, master Harry Potter sir." Came the squeaky voice in reply.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
7th July 1994
Satu Mare
Mr Chung was standing in a street waiting, of the hundred defenders, now classified as rebels due to the Romanian Government now being fully absorbed by the Bulgarian Ministry, only twenty or so were still alive.
His wand was holstered, to any who looked at him, it was the perfect time to attack, as he held an umbrella up against the rain while sipping Earl Grey tea.
"Mori Invadator!" (Die, Invader!)
"Pentru București!" (For Bucharest!)
reverberated the cries of the rebels as they all lunged out at the leader of the invasion that had taken their country.
Time seemed to slow as Mr Chung finished his tea and banished the mug before pulling his umbrella closed.
A trigger appeared and the close combat wizards that had managed to get close with knives and wands lost their lives to the first couple of bullets taking the numerous curses meant for him in their backs.
The Umbrella gun now empty Basilisk 1 drew his wand and began his dance of death, with simple efficient spells taking out any who were hit.
An overpowered blasting curse at the building on which some Romanian wizards were purchased sent them flying.
Killing curses at anyone who looked over their defensive positions and transfigured animals from the debris jumping into the way of any oncoming curses or hexes.
He was in his element; nothing could hit him as he danced around the street into an alley killing any who dared show themselves, he laughed an insane laugh of killing glee.
Spotting a head of hair of a boy not much younger than eighteen he snuck up behind him as he was searching for Mr Chung and cried out "BOO!"
The boy managed to get off a spell, a disarming charm.
That disappointed the professional hitman immensely, so letting the teenager keep the wand he summoned his elemental powers and roasted the boy alive listening happily to his screams.
"Predă-te și îți voi acorda o moarte rapidă." (Surrender and I will grant you a quick death.)
Basilisk 1 roared for all remaining survivors to hear him as he dusted off his suit.
As expected, he received no reply although a couple of the rebels tried to disapparate and were thrown violently back by the citywide wards.
They gave away their positions by doing so and it was easy to eliminate their splinched bodies.
"Aurors move in! Eliminate all living creatures within a mile radius." He called into his communication mirror, a design that had been taken from Sirius Black and improved by the Bulgarian Ministry's research and Development department.
By the time his men were done, there would be no life within the mile-wide exclusion zone which had been cleared of muggles with a fake bomb threat earlier that day.
The rebels would be dead soon, now he could focus on building up his Lord's army. Twenty thousand more viable recruits sounded good.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
Magical Sofia
9th July 1994
Minister Oblansk sat nursing a glass of whisky behind his desk and stacks of paperwork. He wished Prince Slytherin had deemed fit to tell him of his plans to invade Romania.
Not only did he now have to run a much larger country as well as his own, but the paperwork was immense. He was already having to hire hundreds of more muggleborns straight out of school just to keep up with the administrative power required to keep the new Government working.
Not to mention it was the world cup soon and Bulgaria had made it to the finals thanks to his nephew Victor.
It was at that moment that Penelope Clearwater walked in, his Undersecretary now after a letter of reference from Ares.
Reflecting now on his decision to appoint her as his second in command he was not disappointed, not only was she an incredibly hard worker, but she was also immensely attractive. Two very important traits, although if he had to choose, he would rather her diligent work than her beautiful behind.
Alas, she was already dating a young man in the Research and Development department and they seemed to be very interested in each other.
Just as well as sexual harassment was not something he needed to deal with, even more, paperwork!
To play it safe he was merely implementing the first stage of his plans for Bulgaria in Romania. All prejudice would be torn down and the entire ministry would be overturned with people suited to their jobs in positions of power. The school systems would also be changed to fit his new bill and with the new income on exports and imports, he would be able to start setting up his Universities.
He already had several wizards, witches and squibs on muggle teaching courses and had sent out letters to the magical guilds asking for volunteers to teach masteries in certain subjects for a generous salary.
Ivan Oblansk would be remembered as the man who changed magical society for the better, even though he knew his plans were only working so well because the Royal secret police eliminated threats before they could even crop up.
Perhaps this was a chance to rebuild the Austro-Hungarian Empire with Bulgaria at the helm. Serbia and North Macedonia were even smaller than Bulgaria with seven thousand and two thousand magical populations respectively.
All he was certain of was that it had been the best decision he had ever made when he agreed to his friend's deal.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
14th August 1994
Dartmoor, Devon
Sweden had been... an interesting holiday. Luna was a lovely girl, but both Ares and Narcissa had decided it would be for the best if they found someone else to go on expeditions with her.
They both really disliked camping, and apparently, Snorkack hunting involved lots and lots of camping.
The Prince of Bulgaria was wondering if he could form a magical Royal society for Zoology and expeditions that Luna could join. It would be worth it to keep her happy and to ensure he never went camping ever again.
He was a wizard for goodness sake! He could create a house out of nothing given enough time and he would not sleep in a goddamn tent!
It looked undignified and everyone could see what everyone else was doing so there was no privacy.
Talking of privacy, he really needed to improve the defences on his personal library and laboratory. A fourteen-year-old girl had been able to sneak in! It was an insult to his ability.
The Dark Lord had hatched a cunning plan to keep Luna occupied for the rest of June and August. Bulgaria was lovely currently of year! So, he had sent her off to live in Slytherin Palace with all the squib servants to look after her. If he thought about it, she was basically a princess, he was a prince, soon to be a King and she was his adopted daughter.
Princess Luna Slytherin-Lovegood had a nice ring to it, she would, of course, want to keep her family name but that was to be expected. How to pass her off as a princess without giving away who he was. Something to think on another time.
He had to admit the World cup stadium was impressive and riddled with charms and spells to keep muggles out.
Of course, the most interesting thing about the stadium was the blatant power play made by different families and governments using boxes. The Ministry box was meant to be the best seats in the house, so Ares had done his very best to build a box exactly opposite it.
Unlike the ministry, his box was completely private, and he could invite whoever he wanted. He was to be graced with Daphne's presence later that day and some veela cheerleaders that night.
Oh, that was going to be a night to remember, 'never going to happen', surreeeeeee Daphne, sure.
Former Death Eaters would attack in the early morning and Bulgaria would show its power to the international community by quickly neutralising the threat.
He was also going to make a lot of money in the form of bets and stalls selling good luck charms and pointless plastic and magical gifts.
It was fun scamming people! There were already thousands of people in the fields surrounding the stadium and he was pretty sure the muggles in charge of the camping grounds were going to have serious brain damage by the end of the Cup judging by how regularly they had to be obliviated.
True to his promise Ares was never going to camp again, he had brought some Bulgarians over to England just to build him a house for the world cup, nothing too big, just twice the size of the burrow with a large enough bed for him and all the veela cheerleaders.
Ares felt like a small child waiting for Christmas and the house elves could feel it as they were in an even more energetic mood than usual.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
17th August 1994
Daphne stepped out of the floo in Ares's temporary abode gracefully before she was enveloped in a hug by the boy.
Twirling her around he placed her down on the ground with a smirk,
"How is my darling queen?" He asked jovially.
Daphne smacked him on the back of his head,
"Most people would consider it impolite to be picked up without their permission!" She told him off with an indignant look on her face.
"Most people aren't betrothed." He replied with a smirk, before picking her up bridal style and twirling her around again.
"Don't be such a buzzkill! You'll age thirty hears over night!" He warned.
She sighed and pouted cutely at his childishness before leaning into his chest and kissing him.
"You are so lucky I think I love you." Daphne moaned.
"You only think, I will have to endeavour to make sure you know that you love me!" Ares declared.
"Pansy is going to be so disappointed that Draco didn't invite her to sit with him in the Minister's box," Daphne told him with a giggle.
The teenage Dark lord couldn't care less about the irritating Slytherin girl if she so much as irritated him again, he would have her kidnapped and married off to a centaur.
He told Daphne as much.
"You shouldn't be so mean! She is pureblood like us, and the heir to a reasonably powerful family if her older brothers die." She scolded him although she admitted to herself, she wouldn't mind the pug-faced girl being taught a lesson or two in respect.
"Fuck being pureblood! You're either powerful or you're a sheep to be herded and controlled." Ares scowled.
"Shush, I want to see the stalls now." Daphne quietened him and led him out of the house towards the stadium where thousands of people were milling around buying items of no use.
They walked around buying sweets and chocolates for Daphne's sweet tooth before they acquired two sets of omnioculars.
"Are Tracey and her family here?" The Peverell Lord asked.
"No, her brothers are attending separately with their girlfriend's families and the rest of the Davis family aren't interested," Daphne replied.
His mirror started buzzing, indicating someone wanted to talk.
"Excuse me, Daphne, you go on ahead," Ares said as he pulled out the small pocket-sized mirror before holding his finger down and accepting the call.
Sirius Black's ugly mug appeared and started babbling.
Ares continued walking again as he half listened to the vague babble that was Sirius Black talking.
"Look Sirius I'm delighted that you are so excited for the Quidditch World cup but what exactly do you need from me?" He asked with a sigh.
The man stopped rambling and spoke coherently and slowly for the first time.
"Harry and I are with the Weasleys and we were wondering if we could invite them back to the Manor for a couple of days. I think it would be good for Harry and I can't get your father to give permission because he doesn't have a mirror that I'm allowed to connect to." He said the last part with a pout.
Ares hadn't wanted the man to be able to contact him while he was working so had refused to allow the other man to connect their mirrors. He had a personal mirror and one for work, a bit like muggle phones.
He pondered whether he wanted the blood traitors in his house, well actually he was thinking of how best to say no without offending Harry.
"Oof!" came a feminine cry as he crashed into someone.
Dropping his mirror, he was forced to use his arms to balance himself.
"Oh shit! Sorry." Ares said looking down, into deep blue eyes of a young woman lying on the floor where he had knocked her down of such breath-taking beauty that his immediate surroundings seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy with long blonde hair and appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow.
It was Fleur Delacour, the French Triwizard champion from his past.
"Allow me to help you up, I am terribly sorry that I was distracted." He spoke first offering his hand.
She refused his hand sneering at him,
"Watch where you are going, leetle boy!"
Ares laughed out loud.
"Why are you laughing?" She ordered with a thick French accent.
That just set him off even harder, the fact that this girl had the gall to call him small when billions had died before him, it was just so unlikely it was hilarious.
"YOU are calling me small!" He replied with a smile.
Moving closer he towered over her 5"8 at his current height of 5"11, something that only increased to 6"1 as he grew older.
She, however, was stuck at her height and although tall could not call him little.
"If I am little, I assume that makes you not even worth the space you occupy, petite fille." He continued emphasizing small girl in her native language.
Obviously, it had been a while since a boy had spoken back to her like this, and it seemed to irritate her immensely as her ethereally beautiful face scrunched up in a scowl and suddenly Ares felt something attacking his mental defences.
She was attempting to turn him into a blubbering twit with her allure, something that the Prince of House Slytherin really couldn't ignore.
So, he flared his magical aura and there was visible light. A red shadow of bloodlust fell over the two of them and the few people surrounding them shivered in horror.
"You would do well to keep your allure to yourself, petite fille." He said menacingly before pulling back his aura.
Fleur could only nod in response as she tried to ride out the haze created by the all-consuming power; she had just felt affecting her veela instincts.
Ares strode off quickly to catch up with Daphne, annoyed with himself for using such a blood lustful aura, usually, it only formed as pure magic, a testament to his strength. Never had he been able to express emotion through it. It was something to investigate.
Forgetting the French girl and the incident, for now, he put on a smile on and continued touring the grounds with Daphne.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
18th August 1994
It was the day of the 422nd Quidditch world cup and everyone was buzzing with excitement, the Weasley's were practically bouncing as they made their way up to the top box to sit with the minister.
Harry and Sirius were close behind them, but they stopped to greet Minister Fudge, his undersecretary and Minister Oblansk.
"Good morning Minister! We are looking forward to the match, thank you for inviting us to watch it with you. We got the feeling Lord Peverell wanted the box to himself." Sirius informed the Minister in an almost conspirational manner.
"Ah, I believe I know the answer to that. Prince Slytherin showed interest in watching our fair country play Ireland and his Uncle was kind enough to oblige. Of course, for safety reasons, it is for the best that as few people as possible know what the Prince looks like." Came the accented voice of Minister Oblansk.
"Oh, I thought it was so Ares and Daphne could get it on," Sirius admitted.
Cornelius liked to think he was clued in on the movements of important people and if he could a spy agency would be dedicated entirely to telling him where important people were. It was vital he knew where he needed to be to best suck up to people and the Prince of Bulgaria was an important person.
"The Prince is here!" Cornelius cried out in shock a full minute after being told, the information had taken time to process.
"I must see him at once!" The minister decided before motioning for Madam Umbridge to follow him.
Sirius looked to the Bulgarian Minister expecting him to attempt to stop the moronic British Minister.
Instead, Ivan shrugged and sat down in his comfortable chair content to wait for the game to start, pulling out a set of omnioculars and aiming them at the box exactly opposite them.
He was of course also looking forward to seeing Fudge get rebuffed heavily, there was a chance he wouldn't even make it as far as the box itself with the number of guards stationed around the Bulgarian Royal box.
The Minister bustled along quickly, slowly gathering a retinue of some of the upstanding Lords and Ladies of Britain, although Lord Malfoy was nowhere to be seen, having wisely chosen to remain in the Ministry box with his son.
Lords Flint and Rosier were the two most prominent members of Wizarding society joining Cornelius the three together enough to give anyone in Britain pause as they represented a large amount of power in Britain.
The Bulgarian Aurors didn't care.
The moment the group tried to climb the steps leading up to the box they were stopped by five Aurors.
"Let me through this instant! I am the Minister of Magic!" Minister Fudge declared.
"No, you are not. Unless, could it be, Minister Oblansk you have put on a lot of weight since you left Bulgaria this morning." One of the Aurors joked.
Cornelius turned red in his anger, not approaching Vernon Dursely levels but coming close.
"I am the British Minister of Magic and I demand you let me see the Prince this instant." He roared.
There was silence for a moment before a shout was heard from the box above.
"Someone makes that idiot stop shouting! Arrest him for all I care!" Came a remarkably young voice.
"Sir I am going to have to ask you to leave or at the very least stop shouting otherwise I will be forced to arrest you." Came the voice of the lead Auror, a young woman with a Basilisk task force sigil on her chest.
"The Minister is a good friend of the Prince's Uncle, perhaps we could see him?" Madam Umbridge asked sweetly.
"Yes, Yes I am! Get Lord Peverell! You'll pay for your disrespect." Cornelius ordered the now rather irritated looking Aurors.
The other Lords and Ladies with the Minister voiced their support and how Lord Peverell was a good friend of theirs and the Aurors would regret impeding them.
Until the next sentence came out of the Aurors mouth in a clipped voice.
"Sir, Madam, Ladies and Gentlemen, Lord Peverell is not here. He is not even at the World cup so you will have a hard time finding him. If you wish to have an audience with the Prince, you will have to arrange an appointment through his senior undersecretary."
The Minister looked very surprised at this,
"You mean the Clearwater girl?" Dolores Umbridge asked impatiently.
"No that is Minister Oblansk's undersecretary, I am talking about Lady Black, the Prince Slytherin's Senior Undersecretary." The Auror explained now visibly on her last threads of patience.
"Lucius's Ex-wife? She's the Royal Undersecretary! I will be back!" Cornelius decided, realising the match was about to start.
"I should hope not." Came the quiet reply of nearly all five Aurors.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
Daphne and Ares were seated comfortably alone at the top of the stadium when Ludo Bagman's voice signalled the beginning of the final.
"Took his bloody time, have to deal with raving lunatics shouting downstairs and a commentator who refuses to start on time, really Quidditch is the only thing worth being here for," Ares moaned, Daphne raised her eyebrow dangerously and Ares quickly backtracked, "And you of course Daphne! but I thought that was so obvious it didn't need to be said."
"Nice save Mr Peverell," Daphne replied with a dangerous smirk on her face.
They both quietened down as Ludo began properly,
"Ladies and gentlemen … welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!" came his voice of the roaring of the crowds.
"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce … the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"
The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.
"Who do you think they have chosen as mascots?" Daphne asked.
"Veela," Ares replied with a grin.
At that, a hundred Veela were glided out onto the pitch, and the male audience voiced their approval. Veela were women … the most beautiful women most men had ever seen … except that they weren't, Veela were magical creatures with human sentience. Ares didn't know what he liked most it was either their skin that shined moon-bright or their white-gold hair fanning out behind them without wind.
"You and your bloody fantasies!" Daphne scowled playfully before turning back.
The Veela had started to dance, and most male minds had gone completely and blissfully blank. All that mattered in the world was that they kept watching the Veela because if they stopped dancing, terrible things would happen …
And as the Veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through most dazed minds. Some hormonal teenagers wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea … but would it be good enough?
The music stopped suddenly and the Veela began to vacate centre stage.
Both Daphne and Ares found it incredibly amusing especially when the youngest Weasley boy tried to throw himself off the wall of the Ministry box and had to be restrained. Secretly Daphne was awed by Ares's mental strength to be able to ignore the massive allure of a hundred full-blooded Veela.
She made a mental note to ask him about it after the match.
Angry yells started filling the stadium as the Veela stopped, lots of hot-blooded men eager to continue watching.
"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your hands in the air … for the Irish National Team Mascots!"
Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet had come zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goalposts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the pitch, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd 'ooohed' and 'aaaaahed,' as though at a firework display. Now the rainbow faded, and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Magical gold coins falling from it, they would disappear soon, but some unfortunate souls didn't know that.
"Bloody leprechauns, deceitful little creatures," Ares mumbled.
While the box was decked out in Slytherin green Ares was very clearly sporting Bulgarian colours in support of his national team as their head of state.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!"
Ares clapped and cheered as a scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.
"Ivanova!"
A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.
"Zograf! Levski! Vichenov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand – Krum!"
All of the team members wore their scarlet robes proudly with gold writing showing their sponsorship by Peverell Industries.
Viktor Krum was the nephew of Minister Oblansk and a very interesting young man. Ares had been introduced to him as Prince Slytherin a few days ago and had given out several autographs to his fan, the Quidditch player had been greatly surprised to learn he had a Royal fan.
Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.
"And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting – Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand – Lynch!"
Seven green blurs swept onto the pitch and were met with boos and hisses from the red section of the stadium.
When Ares saw that they were sponsored by Firebolt he resolved to make a deal with the company for the Bulgarian team.
"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"
A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache to rival Vernon Dursley's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the pitch. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. He climbed gracefully onto his broom and ascended into the air kicking the crate open and releasing four balls that burst into the air with him: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers and (Ares had to use the omnioculars he had bought yesterday to see it) the minuscule, winged, Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, the referee began the game.
'Theeeeeeeey're OFF!' screamed Bagman. 'And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!'
It was Quidditch as Ares had rarely ever seen it played before. The speed of the players was incredible – the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to each other so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Ares spun the 'slow' dial on the right of his Omnioculars again, pressed the 'play by play' button on the top and he was immediately watching in slow motion while the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums.
'Hawkshead Attacking Formation' he said out loud, as he watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the centre, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. 'Porskoff Ploy' he thought next, as Troy made as though to dart upwards with the Quaffle, drawing away from the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova, and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it but was intercepted Connolly who passed to Troy and-
"TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers from the green side of the stadium and boos and hisses from the red. "Ten–zero to Ireland!" Hissed Ares.
"You're acting like a hobgoblin, Ares! It's undignified." Daphne scolded, ever the proper lady.
Ares stuck his tongue out at her, he was a Dark Lord, he didn't have to listen to unnecessary advice!
Ares knew lots about Quidditch so much as he was loath to, he had to admit the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, appearing to read each other's minds by the way they positioned themselves, and within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty–zero, and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.
The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vichenov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were managing to start to prevent them using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks, dodge the Keeper, Ryan, and score Bulgaria's first goal.
The Veela danced in victory as half the male population were entranced for the short time, they were on the field again.
Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.
"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova – oh, I say!" roared Bagman.
One hundred thousand wizards and witches gasped as the two Seekers, Krum, and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from aeroplanes without parachutes. Ares followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was –
'They're going to crash!' screamed Granger from the opposite box.
She was half-right – at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.
"Ha! In your face Ireland! He was fucking feinting like a saint!" Ares crowed to his audience of one.
"If I'd known you were such a Quidditch nerd and fanatic I would never have agreed to come," Daphne said jokingly.
"You know you love me," Ares responded with a grin.
'It's time out!' yelled Bagman's voice. 'As trained mediwizards hurry onto the pitch to examine Aidan Lynch!'
'He'll be OK, he only got ploughed!' Ares said reassuringly to Daphne, who was sitting back in her chair, looking slightly concerned. 'Which is what Krum was after, of course …' Ares thought to himself.
Ares loved the way Krum played, the Wronski feint was an all-time favourite of his and if he had his way the recording, he had taken of it would be playing in the manor for the next century.
Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, and Ares's immense disappointment and mounted his Firebolt and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland a new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivalled by anything anyone had seen so far.
After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.
As Mullet shot towards the goalposts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. What happened was over so quickly Ares barely saw it, a nasty elbow to the face, and a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, reinforced his knowledge it had been a foul.
"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing – excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And – yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"
The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words 'HA HA HA!' The Veela on the other side of the pitch leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily and started to dance again.
Ares looked down at the pitch. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing Veela and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his moustache excitedly. It was very amusing, even Daphne was giggling.
"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Would somebody slap the referee!"
A mediwizard came tearing across the pitch, his fingers stuffed in his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard on the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Ares, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed, and was shouting at the Veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.
"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian Team Mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before … oh, this could turn nasty …"
It did: the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vichenov, had landed either side of Mostafa, and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating towards the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words 'HEE HEE HEE.' Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused gave two more whistles indicating two penalties for Ireland.
The Prince of Bulgaria wouldn't stand for this, calling for the closest Auror he whispered into their ear and they disappeared.
"What's this, it appears Mostafa is reconsidering, a man appears to be talking to him on behalf of the Bulgarian team, he looks rather pale now, doesn't he? Ah now he is revoking the second penalty, I wonder what happened there." Ludo Bagman commented.
Ares looked incredibly smug with himself as Daphne stared at him disapprovingly,
"I don't know what you had that man say to the poor referee but that isn't to happen again! Do you hear me!" She ordered.
"I don't see why you care Daphne! Just let me have my fun and stop acting old," Ares replied with a scowl before turning back to the game.
"Volkov and Vichenov have gotten back on their brooms … yes … there they go … and Troy takes the Quaffle …'
Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vichenov, in particular, seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human, as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.
'Foul!' roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.
'Foul!' echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. 'Dimitrov skins Moran – deliberately flying to collide there – and it's got to be another penalty – yes, there's the whistle!'
The leprechauns had risen into the air again and, this time, they formed a giant hand, in the sign of a middle finger across the pitch towards the Veela. Just as the Veela were about to lose control all the leprechauns stopped and seemed to fall down paralyzed.
"Ares!" Daphne shouted as young boy tucked away his wand, barely registering how much magical power it must have taken to paralyze all of those magically resistant leprechauns at once from such a great distance.
"I was just stopping a fight from breaking out!" He said with a grin.
Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to check the leprechauns as the Veela laughed at their unfortunate fate. Ares turned this way and that, staring through his Omnioculars, as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet –
'Levski – Dimitrov – Moran – Troy – Mullet – Ivanova – Moran again – Moran – MORAN SCORES!'
But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the Veela, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov –
The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger and hit it as hard as possible towards Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. Just as it was about to hit him hard in the face it started flying away in the wrong direction right back at Quigley sending him flying off his broom, luckily there were floating charms in place, and he was back on his broom quickly.
Ares ignored the glare Daphne sent him.
"Look at Lynch!" Someone yelled.
For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and whoever had shouted was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing …
"He's seen the Snitch!" The person Ares now identified as Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"
Half the crowd seemed to have realised what was happening, the Irish supporters rose in a great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on … but Krum was on his tail. He was drawing level with Lynch now, as the pair of them hurtled towards the ground again –
"They're going to crash!" shrieked Granger again!
Her friends replied but they were too quiet for Ares to hear.
For the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry Veela.
"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed someone, across the stadium.
"He's got it – Krum's got it – it's all over!" shouted Bagman.
Krum, his red robes shining, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.
The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY, IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realised what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet was revving up, the rumbling from the Bulgarian supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.
"BULGARIA WIN!" shouted Bagman, who, like the Irish, seemed to have been taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – AND BULGARIA WIN – good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"
Krum landed swiftly grinning. His team-mates were around him, shaking their heads and looking amazed; a short way away, the Irish players were looking depressed as the Veela began their dance again. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Bulgarian national anthem blared from all sides.
"And as the Bulgarian team perform a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Ministry Box!" roared Bagman.
The Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting towards the entrance, using his omnioculars Ares saw two panting wizards carrying into the box a vast golden cup, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that Ireland had lost.
"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers – Ireland!" Bagman shouted.
And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Irish players. The crowd below were applauding appreciatively; Harry could see thousands and thousands of Omnioculars lenses flashing and winking in their direction.
One by one, the Irish filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with Ministers Fudge and Oblansk. Lynch, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding his broom.
And then came the Bulgarian team. Krum was still grinning happily as Vichenov and Dimitrov lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered their approval. Ares's hands were soon numb with clapping.
At last, when the Bulgarian team had left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms, Bagman seemed to shut up finally.
Ares kissed Daphne goodnight and escorted her back to the floo, ensuring she was safe at home before returning to his temporary abode, still in his teenage form, where he was met with five stunning Veela all laying on his bed stark naked.
"Your Grace, we look forward to serving you." All of them said in equally sultry voices.
"So, do I, so do I," Ares replied with a grin as he stripped off and moved over to the bed engaging the closest Veela in a searing kiss and massaging her breasts. As one they converged on him.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
It was late at night and Ares was deep asleep surrounded by naked sexually satisfied Veela when his magic awoke him.
"Oh shit! I forgot about these lunatics." Whispered, taking care to not wake any of the older women as he extracted himself from within them.
Dressing quickly in his royal Slytherin robes and donning a half mask that matched his silver and green colour scheme he strode out of the temporary abode the Aurors flanking him increasing as he moved.
"Time to show the world we're better at fighting as well as Quidditch!" Ares muttered.
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
Any and all questions should be asked in reviews and I will do my best to answer them whether it be separately or in the next chapter. I updated this chapter recently because Ares was seeming a little too whipped by Daphne for my liking.
All rights to Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling.