I do not own Harry Potter or Superman, Marvel and DC do.

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War Council

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"This had better be important." Amelia Bones growled as she emerged from the Floo. "I had made arrangements to spend today with my niece, starting with actually having some breakfast!"

"It is important." Sirius noted, his normal jocularity completely absent. "Everyone's waiting."

Amelia blinked in confusion, but followed Sirius into the re-purposed dining room of the Pottery. As she entered, she blinked at the sight of the people waiting.

"Albus? What are you doing here?"

"Where else could I be?" Albus sighed. "You know everyone here?"

Amelia nodded as she glanced round. From where he was standing next to Albus, Remus Lupin nodded in greeting, then turned back to his discussion with Severus Snape. Several other witches and wizards looked up at her entry and Amelia stepped up to the circular metal table that was acting as the centerpoint of the room.

"Director Bones." Harry nodded in greeting. "Thank you for coming. Jor-El? Is Grace in position yet?"

"She is." The spirit replied and an image formed above the table. "Drones have been deployed."

Amelia watched as the image sharpened to show a mansion, one that looked like a capital H from above with the central section standing three storeys high and the wings only rear wings cradled a large, glass-ceilinged room between them, a room that extended almost two-thirds of the way to the end.

"What am I looking at here?"

"The house my brothers built." Molly stated as she dabbed at her eyes. "They built it as a place to escape from the war and were keeping it secret until they completed it and we could move in, but they died before they could tell us where it was. Apparently Selene knew, but she thought that it had been destroyed since she saw a full group of Death Eaters heading towards it."

"That's the boat that they used as the launching point during their invasion of Hogwarts." Sirius pointed at the vessel floating in a large pond and Amelia stared at him.

"How did you know that they used a boat? Who told you?"

"The Obscurials!" McGonagall gasped. "They are still alive!"

Amelia stiffened in shock and Sirius winced. "What?! Dammit, Black! If they decide to rejoin the Dark Lord…"

"They won't." Harry's voice was filled with conviction. "They're happy where they are and they're safe."

"Where are they?" Amelia pressed and Sirius shook his head.

"Safe and somewhere that they are not at risk of being killed simply because they are different." He said firmly. "It doesn't matter. What matters is this."

As if to confirm Sirius' declaration, the image of the house fell away and was replaced with the moving images of four people, three of whom were immediately recognised by the watchers.

"That's him." Amelia adjusted her monacle and leaned in for a closer look.

"Grindlewald." Albus sighed as he pointed at the second man.

"Pettigrew."/"Wormtail." Remus and Sirius spoke at the same time, hatred evident in their voices.

"Who's the fourth?" Amelia mused. "He looks oddly familiar…"

"Bartemius Crouch Junior." Sirius supplied and Amelia's eyebrows shot up, causing her monacle to fall out. "He's an Animagus, like the other three. Turns into a wolverine. Peter's a rat, Riddle's a snake and Gellert is a vulture."

"The Obscurials told you?" Amelia asked. "I see…"

"I doubt it." Sirius scoffed, then he oofed as Harry gently elbowed him.

"Getting back to the important matters…" Renus interjected. "Every time that the Dark Lord has returned, he has done so secretly, leaving us in the dark as to his location and plans. This time, however, we know where he is. We know who he is with. And so, we have the advantage for once."

"I thought that there'd be more of us here." Amelia noted as she looked round.

"We don't know who he has reporting to him." Albus noted. "Until we do know…"

"I remember the first War." Amelia sighed. "Understood."

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"Good morning, mother." Draco smiled as he entered the dining hall and Narcissa gave her son a warm smile, her eyes hardening slightly at the sight of the pin on his over-robe. As Draco sat down, his breakfast appeared before him, as did a small pole to his left with a sign attached.

"I've been looking at your grades, my son," Narcissa lifted her cup of tea as she spoke, using it to indicate the sign. "While you are in the upper third of the class, I fear that to help wash the taint of your father's unfortunate demise away, you need to do better."

"I agree." Draco said calmly, his head turned to read the sign that his body blocked the pin from being able to see. Turning back, he gave a slow nod. "I can do better."

"So long as it does not harm others, taking advantage of our resources is perfectly acceptable." Narcissa continued. "For instance, a mild wit-sharpening potion would be useful."

"So long as it does not prevent me from fulfulling all my duties as Lord Malfoy once I graduate." Draco reached for the vial in front of him.

"It will not." Narcissa agreed, then she held out a golden chain with several jewels set into it. "By the way, you may find this useful later."

Draco finished downing the contents of the vial. "Yuck."

"Most potions do taste bad." Narcissa agreed. "I still remember how bad Skelegrow tastes."

"Professors Snape and Slughorn came up with a version that tastes of Butterbeer."

"Really?" Narcissa looked intrigued and Draco nodded.

"Zabini can vouch for its effectiveness. Perhaps White Wing Artificers should spin off a new department and go into business with them. Maybe include membership in the Peacock's Nest as a way of encouraging them to agree?"

"…I think that would probably work, my son." Narcissa's smile was full of pride. "I was once part of Horace's Slug Club, you know. I think I will be able to use that."

Draco gave a nod of agreement, absently waving away the strand of hair floating down towards his food.

It was a small sacrifice considering that the potion had a useful side-effect of preventing possession and destroying the spirit attempting to do so, although the process would be very painful for him as well.

With one possible threat neutralised, he could turn his attention to other avenues of action that were now open for him.

Especially now that his mind was working better than it ever had before.

At the very least, he would be able to finally overtake that damned muggleborn witch and prove the superiority of generations of directed breeding over the result of random chance.

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"It's going to take me some time to get a task-force together." Amelia noted as she looked over the printout of the mansion floorplan. "I'll only be able to use my best on this, and even then… I'm not sure how many of us will survive."

"What about the SWAT Teams?" Sirius asked and Amelia shot him a sharp look.

"How do you know about that?"

"Blackwolf Blades." Sirius shrugged. "Remember? The company that has provided the equipment for those seven Special Wizardry Assault Tactical Teams you're putting together? The teams being trained by Mad-eye himself?"

Amelia sighed. "They're not officially active yet. I've kept the entire project grey… finding almost fifty I could trust and who met the requirements was a Merlin-damned bitch of a task in itself. I was including them in my statement, however. Going up against the two strongest Dark Lords in recent history on their own ground? It's not going to be easy, no matter how you look at it."

"True." Albus agreed as he walked round the table to place a commiserating hand on her shoulder. "But in the end, very little that is good is easy."

"Don't I know it." Amelia sighed as she looked at the projected images.

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"So this is where you are making those things." Gellert noted as he strolled into the basement. "Rather cool here… I guess that it helps preserve the Inferi."

"It used to be a wine cellar." Voldemort said as he concentrated on engraving runes onto a gauntlet. "I had to clean out a lot of broken glass, the Carrows obviously enjoyed the bounty while it lasted. Then again, they had a full decade, so it isn't surprising that they chose to indulge."

Gellert shrugged as he looked round. Part of the Cellar was filled with the motionless forms of the armored Inferi, awaiting the command to stride forth into battle while at the other end were several stacks of corpses awaiting their turn to be transformed.

"I see you're making quite considerable progress." Gellert mused as he looked at the unmoving ranks. "How long before you have converted them all?"

"Assuming I work for three or four hours a day, only another two months or so." Voldemort would have shrugged, had he not been carefully engraving a line of runes. "I managed to simplify the process quite a bit by purchasing some scrap metal from a junkyard, then using temporary transfigurations on it to reshape it. The moulds I used are over there."

Gellert looked in the direction indicated and quickly spotted the workbench with carefully-shaped depressions, some of which had lever-mounted shapes above.

"Temporary transfiguration?"

"Turn the steel into water, pour some into each mould, lowering the upper part into position to ensure the inside is shaped correctly as well, then use a finite." Voldemort replied. "The water turns back into steel, but because it's been stirred up and poured into the moulds, it reforms in the required shapes."

"Ingenious." Gellert said in admiration. "So simple… yet obviously highly effective. I wish that I had thought of that, when I made my own guardians, I used brute-force transfiguration. It takes quite some time and effort to impose the new natural state on it."

Voldemort nodded, then put down the gauntlet and stretched. "So, now I've done this part, what did you want?"

"Barty and Peter have almost finished making lunch." Gellert smiled as he turned away from the workbench.

"I am feeling slightly peckish." Voldemort nodded. "I'll wash my hands and be right up."

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"Interesting." Sanguine mused as he looked over the rim of his blood-filled goblet to meet the determined gaze of his visitor. "Off-hand, I can think of one or two who would be willing to fight, given that our need for blood has been permanently met, but I must admit, it is actually more likely that they would join your adversary instead."

"I was afraid of that." Remus sighed. "I've already contacted the Packs and a few of them were eager to help…"

"How many are there?" Sanguine asked curiously. "I admit that when I was first turned, I was surprised to find out how few Werewolves there actually were."

"Being hunted and killed by Wizards while we couldn't do magic did keep the numbers down." Remus admitted with obvious mixed feelings. "Currently… there are about sixty in all of Britain."

"That few?" Sanguine raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"That few." Remus confirmed. "There were over a hundred a few years ago, but those who followed Greyback became casualties of war and when you combine that with the cure… the number would be less, but we're getting immigrants from other countries who are still cursed and seeking the Cure."

"I see." Sanguine mused, then he took a sip of blood. "I see. As for us Vampires, we also are fewer than people think, especially now that we no longer need to try and prey on others for sustenance. Worldwide, there are less than thirty-thousand of us."

"I thought there were more." Remus admitted.

"Before technology solved our main problem, there were." Sanguine admitted. "Many of my kind died in the war sparked by the clone-blood. Less than half of us survived the battles between those who saw it as a way of building a safer future and those who sought to destroy it so that they could continue to feast on humanity irrespective of the danger it brought."

"I… had no idea."

"We do not talk about it much." Sanguine shrugged. "Before the gift of blood, I would have been on the Dark Lord's side. Now… well, when the Dark Lord asked for us to join him on his quest of conquest, I said no."

Sanguine hid his smirk at Remus' shock by taking another sip, sighing in pleasure as he felt the strength granted to him by the pure blood flowing into his undead body.

"I will spread the word." Sanguine waved his free hand. "Some will join you, seeking the thrill of danger. Most, however… we are finally safe, you see. For those of us whose immortality is fraught with peril, being safe is a quite noteworthy sensation. I think it will be several decades at least before we start to seek out danger once more."

"I see." Remus sighed. "Thank you for listening."

"I shall be here when you return." Sanguine shrugged. "I look forwards to hearing of your battle that I may make a song from it."