A/N: Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers and anyone that has received licensing rights.
WARNING: Things will get darker at time from here. This is a mature story.
-oOo-
Chapter 44
August 10, 1995
Gosberton, England
Delays in obtaining some of the entertainment and having to avoid the Ministry made for a grumpy Lucius until tonight.
He stood in a stone box in the center of an oval arena.
Around him, hundreds of wizards, witches and concubines milled the galleries or sat in the few rows of stands. His agents were taking bets or ensuring the clientele got what they desired. The happier, usually more inebriated, his clients were the more galleons for him.
A dozen languages from across Europe could be heard. Hopefully this would expand beyond the Pureblood classes here, but for now, it was a modest start.
Carson and two other select guests were in his booth. Very scantily clad woman in shear gauze robes were waiting on them. Carson appreciated the women more than the others. Lucius found them attractive, but he would not cheat on his wife. Part of him still felt for Narcissa. The businessman in him would not give her a reason to leave him. The contract they were married under could see him loose a sizable part of his fortune. For now, she was being his public face, but that may have to change soon, especially now his bastard son was stealing Lucius's birth rights.
"You really should sample the wares," Carson told him, pushing a blonde woman, maybe more of a girl than woman, towards him.
Lucius snarled at the man. "I will reserve the girl for the clients. It is almost time to start."
The girls face looked disappointed in his rebuff, her eyes grateful. Lucius wanted to take his pleasure, but it would not be with his dick. It would also not leave her usable. For now, she was worth more galleons alive and pleasing their clients than wriggling and bleeding under his wand. It was one of the few pleasures he could have without cheating on Narcissa.
At five-minutes to ten, a man in fine robes came into their box. "Cromwell. What is the take?" Lucius asked.
Carson was too busy fumbling one of the girls to pay attention. No wonder the man had a dozen illegitimate children.
The dark skin Cromwell didn't look impressed with his partner either. "We have taken in twenty-three thousand galleons. There are about two-hundred thousand on the books. Trevor thinks it will be about 2 to 1 for the house, so he expects to pay out about a hundred and thirty thousand and take in about two-hundred and fifty thousand."
Lucius nodded. That was more than he thought would come from this event.
"The hags have assured me the guards above are in control, but make sure all entrances to the grounds are secure and that people may only enter and leave with portkeys," Lucius ordered.
The man bowed. "As you wish, Lord Malfoy."
"You are taking this too seriously," Carson commented. The woman in his lap was only in her very skimpy knickers at the moment. She was rubbing the man's chest through his open shirt and bucking against his thigh. Carson was rolling her nipples in his fingers in a way sure to leave bruising but she looked to be in pleasure.
The potions the girls were given were working well. Tomorrow he would have to take stock of how they were doing. He suspected they all had been given a double dose with how she was humping Carson's leg, which Lucius was sure would never have happened if she realized how disgusting the man was. It may take a week or more for the girls to recover.
"If you are going to do that, there is a private screen in the back."
"And miss the fun," the man chuckled as she started to moan.
"You will either take the slag back there to have your fun or I will throw you both in the arena for the first show," Lucius growled a warning.
The man eyed him cautiously and gulped. Lucius had returned his sons, and needed Carson at the moment, but he would not put up with this despicable show. Unfortunately, the lust that had started in the girl could only be cured with a prick in one hole or another. Otherwise, she would be mewling like a cat and trying to hump every guy she saw for the next few hours.
Severus was good with his potions. It was meant to capture other clients here in positions that Lucius could use as blackmail if needed. Looking around, he realized he would have to add some men to the whores for next time.
Carson took the girl behind the screen. Another joined them.
When the gong rang, everyone shifted to their seats or private viewing areas.
He surveyed everything as a businessman should. The first event was a gladiatorial contest. Four muggles were put in the ring, all under imperious curses, and told to battle to the death, and make it as gruesome as possible. He would start this off right.
As it started, he looked in the stands. There was a real risk of infiltration by the wrong sorts, either Ministry or his former Master. The mark on his arm had not stopped burning for months, but the more he fought it, the lesser it became. Either the Dark Lord was growing weaker, or Lucius stronger.
At the end of the event, he motioned for a wizard that had been standing in the back. The man walked forward. "Do you see that woman? Second tier, by the third gallery column," he indicated across the arena.
The man looked. "She's not watching the event," his servant answered.
"Ask Cromwell if she has put anything down. If not, escort her out if she refuses to put less than a thousand galleons down," Lucius told the man.
The man nodded. "You want us to let others know?"
"I want her tracked either way and allowed to come back if she wants next month. Then, we will let her handlers understand the consequences."
"Yes, Lord Malfoy," the man stated.
He left and about eight minutes later, he saw Cromwell come up to her. There was a brief conversation and she soon put down the required amount. Lucius would need to keep a close eye on this woman.
The second event was far more interesting. It was a night of a full moon and the hags had found a pack that would not submit to them. Three darker color wolves were prodded out of a room. They had been given wolfsbane potion. The other eight that came charging out of a side door had not. The hags controlled them, but only enough to ensure they didn't bite the handlers.
A few doors had been opened around the side of the arena. A dozen werewolves, again all given wolfsbane potion, watched as the small pack was shredded. They did some harm before falling, but the message was clear.
The werewolves were to submit or else. Those around the arena got a good show of what would probably happen if they snitched. Most cheered it on and didn't care. This was a blood sport that had been outlawed and those that enjoy it accepted the restrictions.
Others were not as enamored. If they came back next month, Lucius would decide then if other rules needed to be in place. For now, the current rules were understood if they didn't stay quiet outside their immediate circles.
-oOo-
August 15, 1995
Somewhere in Southern England
Yaxley was bitter. His family had ruled these lands, subjugating the muggles and other wizards. That was until the Wizard's Council had enacted some base agreements that removed many local lords or marquis from power during the reign of Edward the first.
During that time, the muggles had become powerful enough to overcome wizard led armies and take over the more wizard controlled Wales. Since then, his family lands had shrunk as vassal and cadet lines grew smaller or went extinct. For Corban Yaxley, his families castle and a few hundred acres of fallow farm lands were all that remained now.
Joining the Dark Lord was going to see his family rise to prominence and retake the lands that were rightfully his and all the muggles that had deposed his family would pay. They would pay in serfdom and blood.
Walking the streets of a village that was little more than hovels when it had gained independence made him feel more bitter. He was bitter at having his position stolen from him. He was bitter for the fact the Ministry now looked at him as a dissident, when he should be part of the ruling Wizengamot. He was bitter because his position with the Dark Lord was now that of a serf. Only serving the man and living while he was useful.
Today was one of his useful days.
Polyjuiced as one of the gutter sucking muggles, he was walking along the lane. A moto-ka, or whatever it was, passed by going at a good rate. He wanted to curse the thing, but he was ordered to keep a low profile.
The pain of disappointing his Lord kept his hands in his pocket and walking against the dreary day.
If he had known that one day he would be reduced to acting like a muggle he would tried to kill the young man that had ensnared him in his platitudes of a new world where wizards ruled. That was almost forty years ago now, when he had a wife, a young heir and everything looked to be going the right way.
Now, after serving his master, he had nothing except to act the serf.
Strolling up to a farmhouse just off the road, he knocked on the door.
"Coming," a young woman called.
He waited, his wand twirling in his hand in the large pockets of the muggle raincoat. It was more than two minutes before the door was unbolted and a woman greeted him. "Good afternoon, can I help you?" she asked.
"Yes, afternoon, Mrs. Gosselin. I'm Professor Horace, from Hogwarts. Can I come in for a few minutes?"
She smiled, opening the door more. "Of course, Professor Horace. Emma is very excited to go start of the year. I wish I knew you were coming. Emma is out with her grandparents today and we thought once Professor Flitwick had taken us to Diagon Alley that we wouldn't see any of her Professor or anything until September first."
The woman kept chattering and he used all his training to not grit his teeth or give any signs of how much he loathed the woman already.
"Please come in to the kitchen. I have a kettle on already and we can talk over a cuppa."
"Not today, Mrs. Gosselin. I actually came to you to discuss an issue. We are warning all those from the normal world that the train will not be available this year." From his left pocket he pulled out a trainer.
"Oh, why is that? Emma was so excited to hear about the Hogwarts Express. Professor Flitwick said it was quiet exciting and it gave all the new students a chance to meet others. Personally, I would have found school far more interesting to go on a magical train."
"Yes. Yes. It is quite enjoyable," he lied. He could not make a mistake here. Later, after the girl was gone, he could come back and dispose of the parents. "What I need to discuss is a portkey."
"What is a portkey," the woman looked excited. Did all muggles look so enthused about magic? The only reactions he could remember were fear or pleasure once they were put under the imperious curse.
"Its a mode of transportation that will take you from one place to another in a few minutes. This shoe is one of them. We ask that she uses it on September first. She will need to be touching it exactly at eleven o'clock in the morning."
The woman's eyes were wide. "It will only take a few moments to go a distance that takes a train six or seven hours? I was happy to find out Emma was a witch and impressed with the little bit of magic Professor Flitwick used, but this is incredible."
The woman took the shoe from him.
"Yes. It's magic," he said, the bitter tone just barely staying out of his voice.
The woman chuckled. "So it seems. You said she needs to be touching this September first at eleven?"
"Yes. Now, if you excuse me, I have several others I must see today."
"Of course, Professor Horace. I will make sure Emma does what is required. She is so excited to go."
"That is good to hear. Have a good day."
Yaxley made it past the house, past a signpost and behind a hedge before he shook himself violently. Eight more. He had to do this eight more times. Pretend to be someone that cared about these disgusting animals eight more times. He just wished he knew why the Dark Lord would want these muggleborns.
-oOo-
April 23, 1995
Blyihl House, Devon, England
"Again," Sirius barked at them.
The six of them facing the dueling dummies a good fifty feet away raised their arms at random times. The exercise was to throw up a shield as soon as the wand came to point at them. Sirius explained this was to make it automatic if they were caught in a fight.
Bonnie had her wand up and confidently said, "Protego," just before a stinging hex came. What was the other part was to maintain the shield. A half dozen others were just behind it, as fast as the dummy could recharge.
It was eight times she had done this in a row and was starting to feel tired. Next to her, Luna held her shield easily, as did Neville on her other. Ron cursed as at least one got through. Her shield held for the seven spells before Sirius called out. "Finite!"
The dummies stopped and lowered their wands.
Panting she kneeled over and put her hands on her knees. "Merlin! How do Harry and Hermione do this a dozen times and not get tired," she asked.
"I'm just that good," her Alpha said from behind her. Luna flicked her wand and Harry had his shield up.
Bonnie chuckled when he jumped. "You're supposed to have my back," Harry yelled turning on Remus.
Luna flicked her wand again and Harry stepped to the side. "I'm not falling for it twice."
Many around the room were chuckling at him. Sirius was too as he caught their attention again. "Bonnie and Professor Remus have good points. What's the first rule?"
"Constant vigilance," they all called out.
Sirius chuckled again. "Can't say it better myself. I can say that in the Auror Academy, Moody drills that into you. A stinging hex is a kiss compared to what the instructors did."
"I'm sure you deserved it," Remus said behind them.
Sirius waved him off. "That's besides the point," and a few of them laughed.
"It is a laughing matter here," Sirius went on. "Not if you have to face this outside of this classroom."
The man was far more serious. "I know we don't say much in here, but Remus and I are teaching you how to really duel. These are skills that are not often taught to ones your age."
His eyes traveled over the fifteen of them there.
"I don't need to tell you what is out there. Many of you have already faced it. Some multiple times," he motioned to their Pack. "Constant vigilance cannot be stressed enough. That means being aware of your surroundings. While outside this class and around Blyihl House, we want you to relax and have a safe environment to live in. Once you leave, I cannot guarantee that right now. If Remus and I can teach you how to be aware, including attacks from behind, then we give you the best chance to survive."
The melancholy mood affected them all. Bonnie smelt it. Luna moved a little closer to her and her wolf told her to move next to the blonde.
"As for facing off against these full power stinging hexes, a few of you can take them like it is nothing. This has to do with ones natural power, as well as those that have been forced to push themselves and develop faster than others."
Many looked to Harry.
"With time, and allowing your core to mature, you should be able to do this a dozen times or more without fail. And then go right into a duel. Many of you are still under sixteen, which is when the second major growth usually occurs around. Typically between sixteen and seventeen, most cores grow to be closer to your adult strength. Some experience a third significant growth around nineteen or twenty, while many slowly increase another twenty percent or so through their early twenties," Remus explained behind them.
Many faces looked at them confused. "Why isn't this taught at Hogwarts?" Susan asked.
"It was at one time. That was before the Ministry started to restrict knowledge. Certain factions found it easier to control the majority of wizard kind if they didn't understand how their bodies matured or grew," Sirius responded.
"You will find that changing, I believe," Remus countered.
"Quite right. Now, back to the class. Next group up. I am going to overpower the practice dummies and see how you do."
The Weasley twins, usually joking and quick with their wands looked nervous. Her Alpha and his mate just shrugged. Alicia stepped up with determination. Jason quickly stepped back to be replaced by Ginny.
"Now, start," Sirius called out.
By the time they were done, Bonnie was happy to retreat to the room she shared with Luna. Neville went to take a shower in the new boys rooms on the new wing. It only meant he was two doors down, but not long ago there was a wall right next to the door to her room.
She flopped on the bed, feeling exhausted. Lessons. Dueling. Muggle fighting. Four hours of it, with lunch somewhere in there splitting the two two-hour lessons, was tiring.
Luna lay down on the bed next to her. Since coming, she had shared one of the two beds with the girl she liked most nights. Luna had never shown anything, but Bonnie could smell the attraction between them. It was the same smell that was starting to drive her crazy at times when Neville was around.
It took some protesting muscles to roll over and meet Luna's blue eyes. The blond was already laying on her side.
"Do you need a nap," Luna asked.
"That sounds good," she told Luna.
"I can give you a massage," Luna offered.
Luna had done that a few times. Bonnie couldn't tell her how much she liked it. "That would be divine, but you look tired too."
To be fair, Luna looked tired very often. She was still struggling with her father's death, which was why she slept with Bonnie so often. The girl didn't wake with nightmares as often, or spluttering gibberish about things Bonnie couldn't see or understand, or flailing about as though she was still fighting someone off.
Luna gave one of her dreamy smiles that made Bonnie's insides flutter.
"I will sleep better if you are feeling better," Luna told her.
"What about you?" Bonnie asked concerned.
"You can repay me later. Roll over and take off your shirt," Luna told her.
Bonnie flushed some. They dressed before each other often, but Bonnie always looked away. Not because she didn't like looking at Luna, but because she did like looking at Luna. It wasn't always right to feel that towards a girl.
Luna didn't wait, tugging at her shirt. "Give me a moment," Bonnie told her, groaning as her muscles protested. She rolled to her side and managed to get her shirt over her head, leaving her in her jean shorts and bra.
Luna didn't say anything as she started to rub her back. After a moment, Luna deftly undid Bonnie's bra. "LUNA!" she cried out.
"I can't do it properly with your bra on like that," Luna told her.
After a moment, Bonnie got over the shock and moaned as a knot was worked out of her back. Luna's hands moved over her sides, and Bonnie felt the electric shivers whenever the girl came close to touching her breasts or bottom, but Luna never did.
By the time Luna was done going down her calves, Bonnie felt boneless. All her muscles were relaxed. She didn't feel any pain and she felt just awake enough to register the kiss to her forehead. "Take a nap. I will sleep next to you."
"Okay," Bonnie got out, just barely keeping her eyes open, not caring her bra was still undone and her shirt over her pillow. With a yawn, she was out.
-oOo-
August 29, 1995
Godric's Hollow, England
The graveyard was quiet this time of the night. It always was.
Albus looked out the window of his old family's home at the church and graveyard that had led to his undoing. He had been so confident all those years ago in his plans, and they went wrong the night he had miscalculated how bright, and desperate, a muggle born witch could be.
From his study, he could see the remains of the Potter's cottage. It was all supposed to end that night. If he had only known what Lily and Tom had done, then he would never have set the Potter's up for slaughter the way he did.
Sighing, he turned back to the book before him.
A twinge of pain from his arm told him he didn't have long, a few months at most. Without the skill of Severus in the Dark Arts, Albus couldn't counter the spell as effectively. He had never delved that deep. Even that summer he had his tryst with Gellert or the few years he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts instead of Transfiguration, he had not gone that deep.
From studying the artifacts they had, and working with the highly skilled team of Unspeakables, Albus had been able to determine that six would be the maximum anyone could perform the horrendous act and ceremony before the soul was splintered too far.
If Tom tried to break it more than six times, leaving seven fragments total, he would start to break his magical core. Albus doubted that would be the only thing, but arithmancy couldn't predict the way broken magic would affect the mind and body.
It was verified that three of the horcruxes were destroyed or disenchanted. From the power levels still dissipating from the ring, it was speculated that at least one more was destroyed, with at least two more out there, possibly three.
That bit of tricky arithmancy had surprised Albus. He was the most brilliant magician in hundreds of years, but his lack of knowledge of muggle mathematic advances in the last hundred years has not 4prepared him for the two young muggleborns that Algernon Longbottom had working for him.
It had been a shock to realize his intelligence was not as much as it once was.
Regret had slowly seeped in over the last few months as the two young woman and the team Amelia and Algernon had put around him showed him up time and time again.
In charms, transfiguration and even Defense Against the Dark Art, Albus was supreme, but not in the fields he once held the highest marks in a century when he took his NEWTS.
That regret had led him to think about the Potters. The sinking feeling it gave him was that he had turned out no better than Gellart, who was trying to save wizardkind.
Gellert wanted to cut the veil between their worlds and lead wizards back to the rule they once had. For a very brief month, Albus had bought into that dream. He was still mourning his father at the time. He was the brightest wizard of their time. Albus wanted revenge on those that had abused and broken his sister, especially since he had been straddled with the responsibility of taking care of her after Ariana had killed their mother.
If Albus had understood what an obscurus was at the time, he would never have let his mother keep Ariana at their house. As much as his brother hates him now, Albus had protected Gellert and Aberfroth that day when she turned. Having to kill his own sister had broken him and led Aberfroth to hate him. The hatred his brother had for him was just as fierce the last time he visited as it was that day. Albus' nose still bore the crookedness from Aberfroth breaking it at Arianna's funeral. It was a mark of his ignorance.
After killing his sister, Albus forsake the path of power and wizarding might over the muggles, and instead sought to isolate and insulate his world from the muggles. In his grief and brilliance, he had done more damage than either Gellert or Tom.
No-one understood that until now.
Thus, Albus was making his history, documenting all his wrongs and the ways he clawed to power and hung onto it for far longer than one should. He had condemned their world while trying to save it. His only hope was that Harry and those around him could fix his mistakes.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to fight back his tears.
To save his world, he was sure parts of it would burn. He had helped to stoke the coals that were starting to burn when he was young. The rise of Blood Supremacy had started before he was born. Albus just helped to see it become their culture, and now, after a hundred years, he was sure that the only way to set things right was to cull the infection. It would break the Society he had cured and protected. If the infection wasn't culled or cured, he was sure that all wizardkind would be in mortal danger.
Outside the time he poured into the issue with Tom Riddle since May, he had dug into modern muggle culture. What he found terrified him. Where Tom killed on the scale of up to a few dozen at a time, he found stories of entire cities being reduced to rubble in a night, or even seconds. He had lived through the muggle world wars, but wizards had managed to isolate themselves in most countries. They didn't realize the depravity and utter horror that really happened.
It made Tom and Gellert look like school yard bullies compared to the likes of Adolf Hitler. A name Albus remembered hearing rumors of, but never paid it much attention.
Only if he had.
If he had, he would have set Britain on a different course two or three generations of wizards back. He had the power to do so being a ranking Head-of-House, leader of Light Houses, Chief Warlock and then Headmaster. His world view had been so narrow, he thought himself so bright, he didn't see himself leading wizards into the pigeon hole they were in now.
When next he talked with Amelia, they were going to have a much different conversation.
First, he had to complete the cataloging of his crimes. Amelia could do with them what she wanted. It could be used to bring down many powerful Houses among all the coalitions. It could also lead to dead houses being revived, especially those he had cheated out of their inheritances.
It was true that a House could be claimed by the Wizengamot or Ministry if a scion was not put forth by their seventeenth birthday. It was also true, under the Heritage acts, that a House could be reinstated if line theft or blockage was proven.
In the volume before him, and the other two on the desk, was the evidence, or where to find it, for fifty-two such houses. Fifty-two houses he had used over eighty-years to fund his machinations to save the wizarding world. At least thirty-seven still have descendants, scions or heiresses that could claim them. Unfortunately, all they would do was claim their family heritage. All the gold, heirlooms and knowledge had been pilfered and scattered for more galleons and spent.
The uproar this would cause would either send more to Tom, or break his control. Albus wasn't sure. All he knew was the damage he had done was catastrophic and he was sure Amelia would walk him through the veil as soon as she could. That was if the goblins didn't get him first once they found out what he had done.
Not that it mattered. He didn't have long to live anyways.
Looking down the street again at the rafters of the Potter's cottage, like bones in the sky, he knew he had done wrong.
"Morgana, I expect no pity," he said in his calm tone of resignation.
