I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.

Politics. What a mess. Even in the muggle world it was incredibly difficult to understand. Throw in magic, eccentric wizards and incompetent minsters, and you've got a true recipe for disaster.

Cornelius Fudge was never known for his backbone, even in his early childhood he'd been a coward, rather run than stand up for himself or his friends. This did, however, assist him greatly in his attempts to run the country, as his silver tongue could turn even the most stubborn witches to his side, more so than Lucius Malfoy. The issue mainly being that he never exercised it, and any competent fool could see his facts were, pardon the pun, fudged.

So, he negated this by attempting to hide anything that might bring his abilities into question, though this hardly ever worked and simply brought more questions down upon him. But, blind to this and drunken with power, he refused to budge on his more...fanciful declarations. Such as calling in an emergency Wizengamot meeting, locking the doors, calling for a kiss-on-sight order to an ancient house, and then announcing the return of the Triwizard Tournament.

Oh, it wasn't all him, but how was he to know he was being manipulated in doing his most feared enemy's demands? After all, if he was so incompetent, how could he be blamed for such things? Empty reasoning, but it would save his life later on. For now, we focus on the latest meeting of the Confederation of Wizards, where Minister Fudge has decided to reroute Dumbledore and make a demand.

'My Dearest apologies, Council, but our representation, Albus Dumbledore, has prevented me from meeting with this august body. It was through trickery I even managed to speak today.' There were a few yells for Dumbledore to explain, but in general the Council simply sat silently.

'The Triwizard Tournament was once a well-known competition between the three most prestigious schools, and I wish to reinstate this. It is not merely so I can show off Hogwarts' illustrious reputation.' He chuckled, but nobody responded. 'But also so I can raise International Cooperation. The Quidditch Cup Finals will be held in Britain this Summer, and I believe a friendly clash will bring this to levels not seen in years!' Now, there were mutterings. But France, home to Beauxbatons, the second most well known school, decided to speak.

'It was cancelled because of so many deaths. Many were won solely because all other Champions died, and the last one held killed all three! What safety precautions will you plan on exerting?' Fudge chuckled. He'd rehearsed this question a dozen times with Dolores.

'We will open it only to those who have completed their O.W.L.S., and with explicit permission from their Magical Guardian they are fit to compete. Whilst the Cup is binding, we can at least enforce restrictions, can we not?' Many in the crowd were beginning to nod along, and Dumbledore was growing furious. It was time to step in.

'My dear Council, remember that this is an incredibly dangerous event! The First Task alone has killed more students than I dare contemplate! Please, do not consider this course of action!' But Fudge was not to be swayed.

'Yes, it is dangerous, but those who died were only because younger champions were allowed! With older students competing this should not be a problem. Unless the Supreme Mugwump wishes to explain why Hogwarts standards have fallen so far as to prevent our students from succeeding?' The man in question remained silent.

'Hogwarts and Beaubatons have always competed, and it will be no different now, but Castelobruxo has fallen into disrepair. They say it will not be able to house a student in years. Who shall compete in its stead?' The Brazilian Representative was loud, and immediately the States tried to place Ilvermorny in the ring.

'Why not Durmstrang!? It is in Third place with the Brazilian school gone!' The Swedish representatives' accent was thick, but clear with the translation potions. While the other countries argued, in the end it was clear that Tradition would dictate who would go, and Durmstrang had always been right behind Castelobruxo, so they would be competing.

'Why not introduce a fourth school!?' The States were desperate to get a chance, and no longer be the laughing stock, placed in fourth. Many were truly considering this, and with a near unanimous vote, it became the first Triwizard Cup in over a Century, and the Colonies seemed supremely disappointed.

Fudge sat down at the Visitors chair, satisfied as Dumbledore shot him a dark look. This would not go over well, and the Wizengamot would meet that same day. Cornelius seemed unbothered, as he paid attention to what was going on.

'What shall we do about the Moldu war?' It was the French representative again. 'This is beginning to affect us, our Minister is beginning to ask questions we can't answer. The sudden influx of Moldu's is posing a risk to the Statute, and we can't handle much more stress!'

'I agree! The Gomp are becoming far too dangerous, our best bet would be to eliminate them!' The Norwegian Minister spoke, and Dumbledore began to nod his head. After all, while everyone deserves a second chance, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few…

'And how would we go about accomplishing this! The No-Maj's in America and Russia are dead, but that leaves the rest of the world! Britain is outnumbered 100-1! Even with their well-known powerful wizards, they couldn't destroy them!'

'Are you a Wizard or not!? They can't fight us, Protegos exist for a reason! If we get every country to raise their wards to maximum security, cut off all communication, they'll fight each other to extinction. The only thing preventing them from destroying themselves is us!' Dumbledore now had to speak.

'They are capable of far more cooperation than you believe. If we are to destroy them, it must be from the inside out. I can draw up a few plans, and by the meeting next year, they will be ready. It will take some time, but if we destroy their leaders, they will be useless. At which point, we can take the young. They can be raised in the Wizarding World, taught they are squibs. They have already bred themselves to extinction, the entire next generation will be Muggle-Borns, and the new blood will help us survive.'

Everyone was stunned. The well-known, or at least well-thought-known Muggle Lover Albus Dumbledore was speaking in favour of their eradication, taking of their children and planning to be involved directly. With that, and already high support, it passed unanimously. Dumbledore would draw up ideas to take out their governments, and next year they would begin to be executed. By 1997, they would be activated, and the entire Planet would become Magical, thus allowing for a brighter future.

—-

The Wizengamot was an old room. It was a large, circular stone area with a high ceiling, several chandeliers that hung low, and a few seated sections. Magically activated, they divided into several sections, switching based upon those seated' beliefs. There were three large sections, the Dark, the Light, and the Grey. Several smaller ones made up the rest of that side, but they were insignificant unless one could get all to agree, which had not happened in several hundred years.

The Ministry's section was comparably smaller, with one for the Minister himself, one for his Undersecretary, the Order of Merlin First Class holders, Department Heads and 3 elected officials. The total number of seats amounted to 150, Forty each in Light and Dark, Twenty Five in the Grey and Ministry, and Twenty divided among the rest. It once held up to Three hundred, but the fall of the Old Houses had seen a significant decrease. The amount of votes were 257, as each Most Ancient and Noble House carried 3, Any other family held 2, and those of the Ministry section had 1 each.

Thus, in typical votes, the Grey were the deciding section. They had the Slughorn, Jackson, and Tyler families on their side, with 10 in the Light, and 11 in the Dark. Hogwarts, Emrys and Pendragon, being extinct. They clashed on almost every bill ever passed since their forming, but for once they did not. This left Albus Dumbledore incredibly frustrated. The one time it would be incredibly convenient, they all got along.

'Silence! This meeting is about a Trial for Lord Sirius Orion Black. I understand you all seem to agree that he is convicted, and must be killed immediately, yet I shall present new evidence.' Folders were handed out, and as each member opened theirs, it was revealed to be empty.

'Chief Warlock! What is this? It's empty.' Lord Crouch said, head the the Elder and Noble House of Crouch.

'Exactly. Now, before you make any final decisions, let me remind you of his status. He is Lord Black, whose vote was passed to me by proxy, along with Poterimus. The last of the House of Black, and though he passed the title and ownership of House Black to Lord Poterimus, he was of that status at the time of imprisonment. If a Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble house is allowed to be thrown in prison with no trial, why does that not apply to you? I urge you to consider the injustice this is, and will spawn if you choose to ignore it.' He looked at each over his half-moon spectacles, and a sudden silence fell.

When the vote was called, it passed near unanimously, the only outliers being a few stubborn lords, and the majority of the Ministry Section. Dumbledore smiled. Once Sirius was found, he would be given an immediate trial, with the Kiss-On-Sight order removed. He felt giddy inside, and moved on. While the Triwizard Tournament was important, the next business was of far more significance, and the doors were locked as the Press and audience were ushered out for privacy.

'We all know of the events of the Fall of the Old Houses.' There was a shudder. "And we must refill those seats. I move to allow One Hundred and Fifty New-Bloods and Muggle-Borns with Established Houses be allowed to fill in that niche.' Surprisingly, it was Lucius Malfoy who had announced this, and Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, but agreed. 'I have gathered a list of suitable candidates, and move to vo-'

'Lord Malfoy! You cannot attempt to control the Wizengamot by doing this, it is against the Old Law. Each Faction, Light, Dark, and Grey will be allowed to select fifty, The other minor sections will join with those they match closest to. If the vote passes for an introduction of new power, this will be the case, and you cannot circumvent it. Vote shall occur now.' After some time, it was tallied. 157 For, 92 Against, and 8 abstaining.

'The motion passes! Gather your choices by the next meeting.' His gavel slammed. 'On to new business. The Triwizard Tournament shall be held at Hogwarts this year, and it shall include Beauxbatons as well as Durmstrang. Should everybody agree, it will be held here. Vote now!' The vote was unanimous in favour, and the Old Man sighed. This did not bode well, especially with the choosing traditionally occurring on All Hallows Eve.

'Very well. On to final business. As Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and Britain's Representor, it is my duty to inform you the ICW has agreed on the decision to eradicate Muggles, the taking in of their children and raising them as Squibs. I have been chosen to decide our strategies, and will need several assistants on a War-Council. I have chosen to allow the Wizengamot to choose 3 officials to assist. Is this motion seconded?' Augusta Longbottom attempted to stand, but Theodore Nott Snr was first.

'I second!'

'Then allow us a recess to decide.' He stood, along with the entirety of the Light Faction, moving into a nearby antechamber as the rest did the same with their own groups. It was this, that would decide how painful it would be for the Muggles.

With the decision made, it was lunchtime. Marking the halfway point, and the end of all major business, the passing of bills would now come along. Dumbledore had heard of a particularly unpleasant bill that would be proposed by Umbridge, and he gathered all his allies. Most were used to going a day without eating, and those who could not, brung sandwiches or some other fast food for quick consumption.

'Alright, Dolores Umbridge will be proposing her bill today, and we must strike it down. Her prejudices are far too great to be allowed to fester resentment in the populace. No matter how incredible it may look, remember that she has likely hidden dozens of persecuting laws in there. Do not fall for the disgusting Toad's tongue.' His curses were not held back, he truly hated the woman.

Eventually, they entered the Chamber once more, filled with Press and an Audience once more. While answers were attempted to be wrung out, none were given. It could not be leaked to the Muggle Minister, or there would be a whole other danger. They'd kill the Muggles, but suffer far too many losses in the process.

'And now, we return to the 1986th meeting of the Wizengamot. Do we have any proposed bills?' He looked around, and only the Undersecretary raised her hand. Without even being called upon, demonstrating her arrogance and distaste for the Rules, Umbridge stepped down and stood in front of the Council.

'Dear August Body, I do believe we can all agree that Half-Breeds are a danger to our society. Werewolves, Veela, Mermish, Centaurs, none of them can continue to roam free. We must propose restrictions to prevent an uprising, so I propose this new bill. It is now in front of you.' The entire thing was well-written, the only issues being the glaring prejudice.

'This shall prevent them from getting jobs without explicit Ministry Permission, and require registration. Thus we will have a much tighter hold on them, and prevent any dangers from arising.' She was appealing to the Dark. The issue with that, is many knew Werewolves, and while it was appealing, it was also far too dangerous. Her Power-Hungry nature would only be fed by this, and it needed to be castrated before it could grow.

'I move to a vote' It was Malfoy.

'Seconded.' Greengrass, unfortunately.

The votes were tallied, and Dumbledore smiled. While most major decisions required a two-thirds majority, typically those of a minor importance, like bills, needed one vote would allow it to pass, which was what Dolores had been counting on. Unfortunately, with his own added, they would win by several. Her glee was uncontainable, and he would take great pleasure in tearing it to shreds.

'The motion does NOT pass, and you may be seated, Madam Umbridge.' She scowled, but complied.

Thus, the day proceeded much the same, and nothing of true note occurred.

—-

The grotesque infant scowled. While his plans were working, they didn't seem to be going exactly how he wanted. The tournament would happen, but extra precautions would be placed. Lucius would be tortured. He needed a proper servant to ensure the boy would be entered. Of course, that is when one of his most loyal appeared.

'Barty. You chose to come back. Good, I have a need for you.' It was high pitched and cold.

'Yes, Master, what do you need of me?'

'How did you come back? I heard you died in Azkaban.' The voice said, it's form causing the fat man in the corner to shudder.

'My father replaced me with my mother. He placed me under the Imperius, and I was stuck for Twelve Years. The moment I caught a hint of your survival, I could break free. I return to you, one of your most Loyal.' The baby-blob nodded, and smiled.

'Good. The Triwizard Tournament is being held, and I have need of your services.'

'Anything, Master.'

'You must capture Alastor Moody. I will have polyjuice retrieved, and you will take his place as Defense Professor in the upcoming year.' Barty looked confused.

'But sir, the Werewolf is the professor, are you certain he will be removed, and Moody will be chosen as his replacement?' The Figure tightened his grip on his wand. He did not like being questioned.

'Yes. Now go! Do not waste time with pointless questions!' While Barty was one of his favourites, his patience was already thinned.

The man disappeared, and thus allowed the disgusting baby to go over his plans once more. Azkaban would need to be destroyed, the message would be powerful, and a wonderful way to begin his campaign. It would need time and followers to arrange, but with the Trial of Sirius Black coming, he could truly claim it was his. Perhaps he could start with retrieving some of his Most Loyal quietly first. Thus, his name would be even more feared, by destroying the most horrible prison in Wizard History.

First, he would call Severus. While the man's loyalties were questionable his abilities as a Potions Master were not, and would be of great use to his campaign. Perhaps he'd know more of the ritual he planned, where his body would be fully restored. While there was no connection with Potter, as he'd hoped to leave, the boy's blood should be enough. Hopefully it would leave the boy weak as well. If the raw power present in his childhood was real, then he did not want to face a trained one.

The Old Muggle Caretaker for the Manor had fallen ill, by no mere coincidence. Wormtail had finally proven of some use, and thus allowed the children to roam his home, which meant Nagini got fed, and thus provided more venom for his concoction. With it, his rebirth should prove him more powerful than before, when mixed with the cauldron water. On par with the boy, he hoped.

While his research had proven fruitful, it would take time to put into action, but he was patient. At least, in regards to events that would provide him Dark Emperor of the World. As he fantasized, he also analyzed his room. With little to do but plan and read, his attention had begun to wander these days.

It had peeling green paint, with moldy floorboards of darkened wood, too far rotted to guess what type. The ceiling was in a slightly better shape, with less weight placed upon it. While the entire Manor had once been immaculate, it had fallen into disrepair as the caretaker got older, and his first plan had been to rebuild it. Unfortunately, with most of his magical power drained in keeping his homunculus form, it was slow. Wormtail hardly had the ability. Perhaps he shouldn't have let Barty go so quickly…

The furniture was moth-eaten, with his being a soft emerald cotton, mahogany legs. The chair had been Wormtail's best contribution thus far, even if it was ripped and torn in places. Oh, how the Homunculus wished to kill him, but the coward was still useful. Though The constant apparition to and fro Hogwarts had clearly taken a toll, with even less hair, slightly skinnier and sunken eyes. When he had first arrived, save for a small bit of balding, the man had appeared plump and healthy. Now… It was an unfortunate sacrifice.

Quirinus had been a sad loss. Such a useful servant, and taken in such a gruesome way, the baby-blob had no idea the boy had so much spunk. Perhaps it would be easier to turn him to the Dark Side. If he was to die, let it be to a worthy opponent, who would carry on his ideals. That was what he wanted anyway, to be immortalized? Not be forgotten? Perhaps…

Dumbleore was still being a thorn in his side. Lucius had guaranteed that horrid womans bill would pass. He'd been tortured several times for it. While being rewarded for seeking out his master, in that he was not punished for failing to be loyal to the cause, his failings had become far too numerous lately, and the man needed motivation. The death of his son should be enough.

The Old Man would die, that was for sure. He could not live, not when he could keep the boy in the light, and prevent his influences. Something showy, something dramatic. Perhaps the turning of his most loyal, Severus, would shake the wizards and witches in his blasted Order, get them to see the truth. Perhaps Black, after being accused, and sentenced to Azkaban for so long, could be turned. Yes… and He'd build a Kingdom. The Wizards were already planning to expand the Earth once the muggles died, and he could claim a continent as his own. His own Dark Land.

Would it work? Yes… It had to. For now he could dream of his Land. It would be Lava, and of dark stone. He'd build a Castle, and a Temple, it would tower over the others. He would create new creatures, new Dragons, Basilisks, Naga, all the reptiles! He would take the boy on as an apprentice, give him a land to conquer. And when he succeeded, taught the boy everything he knew, then, he would be forever entrenched in the boy, who would live immortal with the Hallows, as Lord Peverell. Yes, he could infect the Heir of the Darkest Wizard of all time, the one he looked up to like a Father.

Sheev would be proud, and the Potter Boy would join him at the promise of a family. Everything was looking brighter. Pulling his attention to the forefront, he focused on Pettigrew. His servant may be incompetent, but he certainly got the job done. His concoction would give him the strength to rebuild the manor, but not much else. Yet, he was a Dark Lord, Heir Slytherin! He did not belong in a decrepit old manor.

'M-my L-lord, I must be going. The Weasley boy i-is already g-growing worried, a-and w-we must not m-make t-trouble.' His trembling betrayed his cowardice, and the Homunculus scowled.

'Go then, Wormtail! But return to me after Black is freed. The man will hunt you down, and despite your weakness, I do have need of your physical abilities.' His frown grew, as he drank the concoction, feeling power surge as he cast his most powerful reparo, just as Pettigrew left.

Everything righted itself. The chair grew soft and comfortable, the woods hard and strong. The painting rolled back up and cleaned itself, as he felt the entire Manor grow stronger in magic, it's ward line channeling the excess and feeding the repair. He smiled. Magic was incredible. Calling for his trusted familiar, Nagini appeared, supremely disappointed.

~Nagini, what troubles you so much?~

~I wished to eat the children master, but the fat one got away, scared them.~ He rubbed the snake's head, soothing her as his eyes gleamed.

~Do not worry, my pet. If all goes according to plan, your feasts will only grow. By Years end, I will have entire platters of children for you to consume. Does that soothe your ache?~ Nagini smiled, for a snake, and nodded, allowing the Homunculus to take her venom with a phial, as Wormtail would mess it up, and thus the horror-baby used more magic for dexterity, allowing him to milk the creatures fangs.

While not as toxic as a Basilisk, her poison had killed dozens of men and women, with an antidote needed in one half-hour or the subject would die. He always laughed when the Muggles attempted to heal their children, but could not find the offending reptile to heal it, and thus held a funeral. He attended as a baby each time with Wormtail, smirking and cackling evilly at their sorrowful faces.

Finally, he lay himself to rest. His time would come, but his sleep was necessary. The Potter boy would be turned, and he would be immortalized in his name. He would build a Castle and Temple, priests and scholars would sign his name. Yes, his time was coming. Even if his mind was drifting in this terrible body, his power was unmatched.

Thus, he would be reborn.

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