Hermione shrugged her shoulders, trying to make the heavy white dragon hide jacket sit more comfortably. Her hair, still bushy, was pulled back into a tight bun, and it showed off the changes of the last two months. Her face had lost any major fat, leaving an oval-faced beauty that had garnered a few comments from her various trainees. Comments she ignored or, in the case of a particularly aggressive man, answered with several hexes. While her face had changed, it was her eyes that were most shifted. Once a whole chocolate brown, now they held several chips of rose-pink within their depths; a constant reminder of her connection with Sonja and Adrian.

This night, Sonja and Adrian would be made proud of her, as she stood in front of five other trainees, each in dragon-hide jackets. Hers was the only one that was white, theirs were all either red or brown, denoting who commanded the operation. Her final test, a mission she led completely solo.

As she leaned forward, looking over the village from the cliffside, she thought of her team. Dominik and Jose were her two heavy hitters, while behind her was the team that would pull off the heist itself. Her eyes locked onto the large church in the center of the village. The only magical only village in several kilometers, Chur-Diu was once a supply village for the mountain stronghold that Hermione could barely see through the fog on the other side of the valley. Before the stronghold was captured in the late years of her Lord Grindlewald's first war, it was used primarily as a training location. A location that her lord desired back.

The key, however, was well guarded in the Church of Chur-Diu, by at least seven ICW supported staff. She glanced behind her and took a rapid inventory. Her heist team, Jewel, Jasmine, and Geoff were the best available. Each were capable of near complete invisibility, were skilled with infiltration and in the case of Geoff, more than capable of handling a combat scenario. She gestured for him to join her in her survey of the village. As he crouched beside her, she attempted to ignore the scar that cut through his handsome face as she gave him a few tart orders.

"The distraction won't last long. The village itself may not be highly defended, especially with the attacks that will occur in a few moments, but it is still a completely magical village. I don't want to risk our crew attempting a complete take over if we can avoid it. Get yourselves in and out with the item as smoothly as possible." Geoff nodded and Hermione continued. "Go through the Southern entrances. Dominik, Jose and I are going hot and heavy on the North. Once we separate, you are making the calls. Priorities, the key and your survival. Should you fail… warn us. I'll have to force my way either too you, or… worse." She idly grabbed the necklace she wore; a small glass pendant, with a single drop of ruby red suspended by pink light. She noted it was still warm, even though her surroundings were snow covered.

Geoff nodded, his eyes calculating as he gazed at the church. He spoke, his voice a roughhewn thing, as if he was chopping each word. "Worry not. We are the best. The key is already ours. They just do not know it as of yet."

Hermione smiled beautifully, as she pulled her wand from its holster. "Then let us educate them." Raising her voice, she continued, "Dominik, Jose. With me. Jump to the roof of that building there." Pointing with her wand, she created a slight flash on the roof she meant. "Jewel, Jasmine and Geoff. Get my key. Geoff has further instructions, and he is in charge. Let's move." With a twist, she apparated, a skill that she was taught rather recently by Sonja. As she appeared with a loud crack on the roof, she instantly started to slide down. Crouching, she allowed herself to fall to the ground. At the last minute, she flicked her wand to cushion her landing. Her eyes narrowed, as instead of the reported five ICW security forces that stood guard at the main entrance of the Church, fifteen stood in shock as she seemingly appeared from thin air. One was muttering about how the wards should have stopped them, even as she raised her wand and opened fire.

During her training, two things were apparent to her instructors. The first was that magically, she was not a weak witch. Far from it. While she would likely never be on the same level as say Harry Potter, she would be a force on the battlefield if she learned to use her power effectively. The second was her magical control. In magical combat, according to Scarvosky, duels came down to three things: Control, Ability and Mentality. Ability was what a magical could do. What the magical is capable of, without the other two factors as limiters or enhancements. Mentality was how you approached something and how you kept your faculties within the moment. Scarvosky would show off one of his scars, on his upper wrist where his hand was nearly severed by a sword when speaking about it. Finally, control was arguably the most important. Combat had no regulated length of time it could last, nor did it have a set rest period. It simply was. Learning to pace yourself, while also using the adequate amount of force was necessary.

Hermione it seemed was a natural with control of her output. She was able to rapid fire curses, use overpowered spells before flowing into a fast spell chain as easily as she was able to walk a lane. It was this, along with her admittedly high intelligence that pushed her to be in command of this mission in the first place. She would not. She could not fail.

She instead let her magic loose. Her favorite combat spell was a spell taught to her by Adrian. A multi-use spell invented by the doctor himself, it was more of a shredding curse than a cutting spell as the blade of magic was truly made entirely of piercing curses. It allowed for incredible control of the power, length, and even if the blade was formed at all. It was the latter that Hermione engaged now, as she slashed her wand.

A dozen different needles of magic blasted forward, slamming into several shields that protected the ICW forces, even as Jose made the entire street under them explode with an incredibly overpowered blasting hex. As several of the security were thrown into the air, Hermione hardened her heart and her wand flashed. In seconds, a hole appeared in each of their torsos as her piercing curses slammed through them. Looking back at the forces she lowered her stance as several curses flew towards her, only to splash harmlessly on Dominik's shield charm. Dominik continued to cast, turning the rubble from Jose's explosion into large dogs, and charming them impervious to most damage. Jose was laughing as he launched massive fireballs of crimson fire towards the various lanes to ensure no interference.

Hermione continued to cast, her spellwork tight and narrow as she trusted Dominik to defend her with shields and animated beasts. Swiftly, the final security member fell, and Hermione took a deep breath. Looking around, she noticed Jose continuing his pyromaniac tendencies, even as a dozen magicals attempted to put out his fires. A flash of green sparks erupted from the far side of the church, making Hermione smile and nod.

"Dominik, bring Jose. I will smother his fires. We did not come to destroy the town."

"Yes ma'am" Dominik's voice was light and airy, as he turned to obey. With precision, Dominik slammed an unknown charm into Jose's side. Nearly instantly, the smile slipped from his face, and with a twist the two apparated away.

Hermione pulled a water bottle from her coat, and with deft flicks, starts to spell the water inside. Once it was glowing, she placed it on the cobbles between her feet, tapped it once, and apparated away. In seconds, the bottle exploded, flooding the area with magical water that instantly suffocated the flames, and dried without a trace.

Ron panted as his father stood across from him in the orchard that they normally played quidditch in. Ron had several slashes and bruises on his body, yet his father only sported a blackened eye, and a smile.

"You have improved a ton Ron! It has been years since one of my boys have been able to touch me during a duel. Why, even Fred and George together can't touch their old man yet." Arthur's voice was cheerful, and with a simple wave of his wand, his black eye disappeared. Ron only got in a lucky punch during some close quarters dueling, but as he had been drilling for the last six weeks, a single shot was all that some needed. He waved his wand towards Ron, who's bumps bruises cuts and scratches were fixed.

Ron straightened and took a deep breath. "So how was that one?" He was casually fingering his wand as he waited for his father to respond to his usual question. It was a tradition ever since the second time his father beat him casually in a duel. Ron wasn't a slouch in school these days; his OWL results spoke for themselves. Six OWLs, all exceeding expectations with two outstandings in Defense and Care of Magical Creatures respectfully, he was easily capable with a wand. However, his father, who had near exactly the same OWL grades with an extra in Muggle Studies, crushed him every time they dueled.

Arthur wasn't the strongest wizard in the Order or the Ministry. He wasn't the most tactically minded. He wasn't the most aggressive in combat. No, what Arthur was, was the most refined and accurate spell-caster in the entire British Isles. He was capable of using a piercing curse to separate a fly from its wings over two hundred meters away with nearly a glance. Ron thought it was the coolest thing he had ever seen, until he had dueled against it. It was then he realized the truth.

His father was a monster with a wand. He had of course read about the things that an accurate wizard could do with spells, but to be on the receiving end was another matter. Shields didn't matter if your opponent could ricochet their own spells against each other to hit you anyway. Movement didn't matter if your opponent would hit you even if you moved, because he predicted it. Arthur Weasley read the way you moved, like Hermione Granger would read a book.

And he was teaching his son to do the same.

For Ron, every waking moment was a training exercise. When he awoke with the sunrise, by his bed would be the instructions for the day. As he did his chores, he would be watching a member of his family. Predicting exactly how they would move or say in response to various things. He would nearly always take his father lunch at the Ministry now, something his mother normally did. It was then he realized how much respect his father had within the Ministry. It was a simple thing to show him really, as it was just a window.

Arthur Weasley's office was one of only five in the entire Ministry of Magic with a window that was enchanted to look out at the London streets. When he was promoted, nearly a decade ago to his position as Head of Magical Muggle Relations, which was a rebrand of his original title of Head of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, it was his only request. A window to watch the Muggles. His boss at the time, Amelia Bones, chuckled and agreed. 'Most argued for a raise Arthur', his father was fond of joking. But, he understood it.

Even while working, his father was training. He would glance up at the window, and he would ask his son a simple thing such as how many women weren't used to wearing heels? Of course, he wouldn't know the answer, and would have to watch or research the answer, but it would always be an interesting number. A number his father would either confirm or counter it from his observation, likely citing old data. Suddenly, Percy's obsession with numbers and reports and such made sense. He got it from Arthur.

Even though he was training every moment, it was clear that he wasn't any where near his father's ability, especially with accuracy. That was why, after staying for an hour or two with his father for lunch, he would run an obstacle course through the woods surrounding the Burrow, hitting targets with piercing curses, bludgeoning hexes and more. If his time was worse or didn't improve, he would be told to run it again by the Twins.

Fred and George were only at the Burrow for a few hours a day these days, having opened their shop after sitting their NEWTs. The shop was doing amazingly, really raking in the galleons, yet they still took time every day to give him tips and tricks and to observe him train. It was one of the nicest things he could remember his brothers doing for him.

After his runs, he would help his mother with food, or more chores. And then, when his father returned from work, he would duel him. And be absolutely, completely, and utterly destroyed. Each. Time.

He asked that question, every time to ensure that he didn't lose his mind. To ensure he was growing, and not stagnant. He waited patiently for his father to answer his question, and Arthur looked thoughtful.

His son was, in many ways, not suited for his fighting style. His was a style he invented after many years of effort; to always hit the precise moment and position he needed with the force required to get his goal accomplished. Yet, when he put his mind to it, Ron took to his training like a fish to water. He was, easily, as good with a wand as Charlie was, and nearly as good as Bill.

"Ron, you are growing extremely quickly. I'd say honestly that there would be few if any people at Hogwarts that could duel you and win. And, if we keep pushing, we can make that number even smaller. You are growing. I promise." Arthur's answer was both honest and calculated. He knew that his son was uncertain about his place, and he knew he was driven. Comparing him to his peers was the most accurate assessment he could give, while being encouraging. Because if Ron were to be compared to Bill, himself, or any of the others that were about to be engaged in what the Prophet had labeled the Triad War, he would find himself lacking.

The members of the Order were some of the best fighters in the country, fighting some of the darkest and most dangerous people in Europe. It wasn't a fair comparison for his youngest; he was already compared to a once in a generation talent in Harry Potter.

Ron grit his teeth, knowing what his father was and wasn't saying. His father only compared him to people his own age, and never Hermione. He had read the Prophet; Hermione had attacked a village merely two days ago and if the paper was to be believed, single handily defeated several ICW magicals and ensured that they stole a highly coveted magical item. It shook him, because when he knew her, Hermione wouldn't have been able to do that. She wouldn't have been able to kill, to maim, to do what he knows she did to defeat those wizards.

Arthur looked at his son's reaction to his words and sighed. He placed a hand on his shoulder,"Look at me son." When Ron finally looked into his eyes Arthur continued,"I don't want to compare you to someone you cannot be compared to yet. You are 15, have only just sat your OWLs, and yes you have done marvelous and amazing things, things you should not have had to do, you are still young. I will not compare you to people who are about to be engaged in all out war."

Ron flinched at the word war, and looked back towards the Burrow. "So its official? We are going to war with Grindelwald's forces?"

Arthur sighed and took his hand from his son's shoulder. "We have been. It is just official now."

Lucius placed the fresh daisies on the marker that read "Abigail Malfoy nee Rosier". He spoke quietly, as if his mother could truly hear him. "The Dark Lord returned in the last year. My wife and I are arguing. I want Draco to join; to earn his place in the new world that the Dark Lord is creating. But she claims he is uninterested in joining. That I should ask him. I.." Lucius swallowed slightly. His mind went back to the conversation he had with his heir. And his words, as they were shouted at him by the boy who looked just like him as he stormed from the room.

"I want to be more than just a follower of a mad man! I want to be worth more than a curse to the back for a failure! I want my name to mean something!"

He shut his eyes and threw the memory back and continued to speak. "Mother, Draco left that day. He went back to Hogwarts for the summer, to stay with his godfather. The Dark Lord wants me.. wants me to cut off his funding. To not allow him to attend Hogwarts unless he swears to him. I cannot do that. I will not do it. But if I don't… the Dark Lord will kill me. He will kill my wife and son." Lucius allowed a single tear to fall from his eye. He took a shaking breath. "I just ask for a sign, a way out, anything to save my family mother. Please. If you have any favors you can call in from the Other Side, I'd be grateful." Lucius turned and stepped out of the tomb, and instantly crumpled in a flash of red light.

Cedric slipped from his hiding place behind a tree, his disillusionment charm falling as he did so. Walking swiftly, he cast several spells at Lucius' unconscious form, even while he frowned. He had heard everything, thanks to a nifty charm from Fredrick that allowed him to enhance his hearing temporarily. He crouched beside Lucius, and relieved the man of his wand and the spare that he had hidden in his left boot. He then turned said boot into a portkey, and said that activation phrase, depositing him into the safe house location. Moving swiftly, Cedric strode towards the graveyard's entrance. If he was swift, he could likely grab Narcissa before she finished her shopping.

When Lucius awoke, he realized three things immediately. One, he was tied securely to a chair. Two, his wife was in the room from the scent of her perfume. And three, his wands were missing. He opened his eyes and regretted it instantly as a bright light shown in his face. A soft groan escaped his lips as Narcissa gave an amused sound.

"Really Lucius? You should be aware that this is going to be an interrogation and you struggle with light?" Narcissa's sarcasm was a welcome sound, as well as her even voice. It was signs that she had not been harmed. Yet.

"I wonder if we will be granted the pleasure of knowing our captures. Will they allow their faces to be shown, knowing I will kill them for touching you my wife?" Lucius' voice was as cultured as it always was, without a single sign of his slowly growing panic as he realized that the magic he was trying to utilize to escape was slipping from his grasp as if it were oil in his fingers.

"Oh, I am definitely showing my face Lucius. After all, it wouldn't be the first time you attempted to kill me would it?" Lucius froze, his mind racing as that voice registered in his head. He knew exactly who had captured him, and for a moment he rejoiced. As it wasn't Grindelwald's forces, he knew he could survive the encounter, but it was the Potter brat, so he wasn't certain it would be painless. One did not become a magical on par with his lord without some dark secrets.

"You are thinking that this is going to be easier than if Grindelwald had captured you, aren't you Lucius." The bright light was moved so its beam, originally pointed in Lucius' eyes no matter how he turned his head, now illuminated the whole room, as barren as the room was. Leaning against the closed doorway, Potter cut an impressive figure in his tight black sweater and trousers, idly twirling his wand. Glancing to the side, Narcissa sat blindfolded beside him, drinking tea with the grace that she always carried.

"Don't worry. The tea isn't poisoned, or spiked with anything that Narcissa didn't place there. She can't hear me either, thanks to the blindfold, though I wouldn't be surprised if she knew someone was here." Potter winked when Narcissa's lips twitched slightly when he mentioned that she would be aware someone was here. His face hardened though as the playfulness disappeared.

"Here is how this is going to work Lucius. I am going to ask you questions. Don't worry, I won't torture you for information. I am instead going to show you something." He knocked firmly on the door, and instantly it opened, two hooded men pushing through a large mirror with runes etched on the frame. A tap from Potter's wand and the image in the mirror rippled before changing from Lucius' reflection to a scene that made his heart start to race in his chest.

Draco and Severus were on the quidditch pitch of Hogwarts, each with their wand out. It seemed Severus was teaching Draco some transfiguration, as several failed attempts littered the ground around his son. A wand point appeared on the mirror, pointing at the professors back. A flash of red, and Severus fell forward, Draco twisted around, only to be met with another flash of red. The image in the mirror faded.

"As you can see. You weren't the only Malfoy I got. But you do hold the key to his freedom. I want to know everything you know. Because if I don't" Potter tapped the mirror once more, and instead of an image, sound erupted from the mirror.

"Please. Please stop. Please-AHHHHHH" Draco's voice cried out in pain, as Lucius struggled against his bindings. Veins bulged as he heaved as hard as he could against his bonds. A tap, and the sound disappeared, and Harry looked on stoically as Lucius swore at him.

"I will kill you! I'll piss on your corpse you fucking son of a mudblood whore!" Lucius' next words drowned in his mouth as a concussion hex hit his cheek, soft enough not to break his face, but hard enough to twist it around.

"Let me be clear here Lucius. I really hate you. I hate your guts. If I had my way, I'd break your mind, steal its contents, eviscerate your body, and send you back to Voldemort in chunks. However, I have been reminded, ever since I captured you a month ago, that keeping you alive is better for me. So, you have two options. Tell me everything I want to know or listen as I have my men remove parts of your son. Choose now." Potter's voice was menacing and the look in his eyes made Lucius realize that he wasn't bluffing. His heart raced, and his mind stalled. He couldn't breathe for a moment as Potter tapped the mirror again, and a voice hissed out. "Beg daddy to make it stop. Come on little Malfoy. Beg daddy to make it stop…" The sound of crying and whimpers of pain as the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room until finally Draco's voice softly cried.

"Dad! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!"

Lucius broke, his walls crumpling as he asked numbly. "What do you want to know?"

Harry tapped the mirror, and smiled victoriously, "Everything."

It was hours later when Lucius stopped speaking, his voice dry, his lips chapped and his eyes on the mirror constantly. Anytime he paused, Harry would tap the mirror, Draco would beg, and Lucius would speak more. Narcissa never paused in her tea drinking, or later in her crocheting, asking for her needles and yarn once the tea was consumed.

Harry asked,"Is that it?"

"Yes. I swear it yes. Please… let him go…let her go. Please." His voice wavered and tears filled his eyes and he waited to hear his son begging again.

"You know… you were right. If we pressed the right buttons he would sing, Narcissa." Potter spoke directly to his wife who scuffed and finally stood and removed her blindfold.

"Honestly Lucius, I figured you would at least figure something out when I was granted crochet needles and yarn. What prisoner is allowed to crochet?" She shook her hair out and stepped around the table, leaning down to kiss his cheek before doing so. "But, over all darling, you did beautifully."

"What is going on love?" He hissed, eyeing Potter who looked at his nails. Narcissa laughed.

"Well, I made a deal. I know what the Dark Lord asked you to do to Draco… so I made certain it couldn't happen. But that made me realize that if he asked you to cut off your son… and you did it, what would he ask next? Kill him? Kill me? So when I got grabbed in Diagon Alley, I realized quickly that this was an opportunity." Pulling her wand from a sleeve and casting a quick finite at Potter, Lucius froze as his image shifted. Green eyes became brown, black hair became brown honey, and the grin became wider. Cedric Diggory waved at Lucius as his wife smiled back.

"But Draco. He was tortured. You allowed that!?" Lucius spat, his eyes full of rage.

"Tortured? Of course I wasn't tortured father." Draco Malfoy stepped into the room, pushing the mirror further inside. "It was a scheme, to ensure you obeyed. All you heard was me acting. Oh and some training with some muggle fighting equipment." Draco grinned showing his tapped knuckles.

"Why?" Lucius' asked softly. The question was answered in stages, first from his son.

"I don't want to follow the dark lord father. I don't believe in it. I haven't since fourth year… I ended up asking myself why I acted how I did, and realized I just wanted to be like you. You are a real piece of work father… some of the things you did or condoned, I do not believe I could ever be accepting of. However, what really sold me on this scheme was what you did my second year." Draco's eyes hardened and he seethed slightly. Lucius looked down at the table, knowing exactly what Draco was speaking of.

"You unleashed a basilisk on a school full of children. On a school where I was attending. Did you know I was out when Granger and Clearwater were petrified? I was literally three corners down returning to the common room from the library. I had no reflective surface because I wasn't scared. I should have been. It was Professor Snape that told me what you did. It was mother that confirmed what the Death Eaters did during the last war. I decided then and there, I wanted no part of being the Dark Lords bitch." Draco spoke with venom, and his eyes glowed. He crossed his arms and looked to Cedric. "I ended up talking to this Hufflepuff, who gave me a great idea of what I will do after this is all over."

Narcissa looked on proudly as her son stood tall for the first time in his life and told his father to his face,"I will join either the ICW or the Aurors. I won't fight for a mad man, and I won't be anything other than my own man, making my own choices. The choices I believe are best for me and mine."

Lucius looked at his son, standing in the doorway, having schemed and plotted to ensure his own protection, decree his allegiance. It started as a weak chuckle, until finally it grew into fullblown laughter.

"My son, has finally grown up." Lucius coughed out between laughs. "Good. Son, I don't want you to be a Death Eater like me. I realized it when visiting your Grandmother's grave. I just had no clue on how to make sure it didn't happen. But this… this gave me an idea. Diggory?"

"Hmm?" Cedric looked up from his ignoring of the conversation to look at Lucius. He had already gotten everything he needed from the man, and bluntly he didn't care what happened at this point. The ICW was clear on its protocol in this scenario. They didn't care what happened to him either.

"I want to go with my family to a safe location. If necessary, I will take an unbreakable vow to never work for the Dark Lord ever again."

Cedric smiled, "Now, that… is something I can agree to."

Harry Potter read the report that Cedric placed in front of him and frowned. "While I appreciate the results, next time, don't use my image to torture a man." Cedric nodded, obeying the order without question, while Fredrick shook his head with a sigh before grunting his affirmative as Harry glared at him. "Good. Now that is clear, we need to discuss our next move. Lucius provided excellent information what Voldemort intends to do. The question is, when is he going to do it?" The question proved to be a difficult one, as the trio were silent.

Finally Harry rubbed his forehead. "It's dark magic, and vampiric in nature. There has to be-" His hand drifted to the necklace he had worn every day since that meeting with Eva. The portkey around his neck, that would grant him audience with 'the King who had seen all kingdoms fall'.

"What is that?" Cedric looked at the black diamond around his neck in curiosity. It was the first time he noticed it, and he was surprised that was the case. It was oddly beautiful, yet completely clashed with the steel and leather armor and jewelry Harry preferred.

"During the final task, I met a vampire. Her name was Evangeline Maria Zima-" Fredrick gasped as his eyes widened. "I take it you know her?" Harry asked as the agent started to pace in the room. He watched as Fredrick's face went through over a dozen emotions before settling on curiosity.

"Know of her more like. But that doesn't matter. The question is what does a Duchess of the Vampiric Court want with you?" Fredrick stroked his chin in thought, as Cedric and Harry conversed on what they knew of the Court. Fredrick tuned in when Cedric said a name. A name that shook him too his core.

"What did you just say?" Fredrick's voice was soft, yet his tone was panicked. Cedric looked at him and frowned before repeating himself.

"I said, that maybe we should talk to Nicolas about Alucard. From that movie, Son of Dracula? My father was a big-" He froze at the look on Fredrick's face.

"Alucard is a forbidden name in my country. No one speaks it. For good reason. The Duke of Slaughter has many names, all of them forbidden. But… if anyone would know of the information on what Voldemort plans, it would be he. If you could even speak to him of course."

Harry frowned as he thought of what Eva said again. "I think… I think I have an audience whenever I ask." He then explained what the Duchess told him during the final task.

Fredrick was pale and swallowed before nodding. "Yes… you have an appointment then. I have heard of such portkeys. They are traditionally used to bring him his… meals…"

Cedric picked up the conversation as Fredrick trailed off. "So that is definitely a last resort. We should see if we can get Sirius to go through his family's archive. The Blacks were one of the oldest families that researched into the most obscure of magics. It's possible that there could be an inkling of something there." Harry nodded.

"What of the ICW? Isn't there some sort of archive for all the magics that the ICW could encounter that could be dangerous?" Harry asked. Cedric and Fredrick looked at each other. Cedric shrugged and Fredrick nodded.

"Considering that it is you that are asking, and you will eventually find out anyway…" Cedric began before flicking his wand and casting over a dozen different charms to ensure that what he was about to say would remain between the people in the room. "There is an archive of that knowledge. It is known as the Forbidden Library and hold unknown amounts of artifacts and documentation on some of the darkest magics practiced for the past six centuries. Its location is known only to three people in the world at a time, with all workers within the Library being sent via secure means. It is likely, that if the knowledge exists and Voldemort isn't just creating the ritual himself, it is documented there." Fredrick took over, seeing Harry's excitement and preempting his interrupting.

"It doesn't matter if it is or not however. Due to Grindelwald's Lieutenants being active, and Grindelwald being the largest risk to the Library in history, it is completely locked down. The only wizard not in the library who could know the information on its location is the Headmaster. Not only that, but even he likely can't allow you access. It is a moot point in its existence." Fredrick frowned and cocked his head. "It is curious that you assumed that there was an archive though. What brought you to that conclusion?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Part of the ICW's mandate is to record acts of magic that could, would or did threaten the Statute of Secrecy. Not only that, but they have access to the national archives of any member nation. It makes sense for them to have an archive of information that they either observed, copied, moved or stolen from other locations."

Cedric sighed as he rubbed his eyes. "I forgot I taught you to think. Damn it. Okay. The plan is for Sirius to look into his resources, for us to scour the library here, and hopefully we get something. Agreed?"

The others agreed and the charms went down.

Voldemort smiled as the preparations for the ritual he designed were completed slowly. He sat on his throne, it dark wood stained with the blood from Perenelle' s unnaturally still body that was draped on his lap. Her form was covered in a dark robe, that hid the stains of blood that Voldemort knew to be present. Gently, he hand a finger along her cheek, feeling the tremors that were present from her exposure to the various tortures he had placed her under.

"Does that hurt?... A pity. I do loathe to hurt you Lady Flamel." The lie slipped from his tongue even as his smile screamed otherwise. Perenelle' s pupils were dilated such that her brown honey irises were gone and tears threated to fall down her face as Voldemort ran his finger along her neck. As soon as the finger touched her collarbone, the curse on her body activated, and she screamed.

The Death Eaters in the room flinched and continued to work, as Voldemort laughed and Flamel screamed louder.

Nicolas was working himself beyond even his limits. Once Cedric and Fredrick had captured and interrogated Lucius Malfoy, he had started researching heavily into what Voldemort could be doing to his wife. Every discovery, every revelation on what he could be doing to her… pushed him deeper into his research.

With a growl of frustration, the book he held was thrown to the side. In a frenzy he opened the next one, and scoured through the contents. His search was interrupted an hour later by a knock at the door. A knock he originally ignored, until it continued until he could ignore it no more.

"What!?" He spat at the door, knowing that it could be only one person. His assumption that it was the Headmaster was correct, as Harry would have just opened the door after dismantling every charm Nicolas placed. The boy was a menace when he wished to be.

Albus entered the room, and looked around. The normally bright work area was grime covered and basked in shadow from the several weeks of endless work. The only clean place being the cauldron that Nicolas had a brew, as even he in his current state would risk that concoction.

"Nicolas, you must sleep." He told his mentor as soon as he saw his face, or more specifically his bagged eyes.

"Fuck sleep Brian, they have my wife. He plans to suck her life force from her body, and we have no further information. We know what information means in a war Brian." The last sentence was whispered as another book was thrown across the room. Albus' eyes softened.

He remembered a young man, lost after his sister's death, and the fracturing of his family, running to Paris thanks to a letter he received a year previous. He remembered knocking on Nicolas' door, and Perenelle answering the door, greeting him softly and hugging him as he broke down in her arms and explained it all. He didn't even make it into the door before that woman had him wrapped around her fingers.

Nicolas had spent centuries with her.

Albus crossed the room, stepping lightly over books, and pulled Nicolas in a hug. He didn't say a word, just held the man as anger shifted to sorrow and helplessness. Albus held the eldest wizard in the world as he sobbed.

Klaus knocked softly on the door in front of him. As he was beckoned to enter, he took a deep fortifying breath. He passed by the various artifacts and equipment that whirled, whizzed and whispered. He passed three different operating tables, each with a still breathing magical on it, with various wires and cuts on their body. His objective however was further back, sitting at a desk that was covered in writings and charts.

"Yes Klaus?" Adrian Frankenstein asked as he continued to write the observations from his previous experiment down. His question went unanswered as the vampire stopped against the desk.

"Voldemort captured Perenelle Flamel."

Adrian's pen froze and he looked up. His face was blank, his normal smile absent, his eyes sharp and focused. "Tell me everything you know."

Klaus audibly swallowed, as he felt fear take hold of him. He spoke rapidly, stating that he was certain because one of his spies heard a Death Eater celebrating "getting that Flamel bitch alive" as if he failed he would have been killed. He stopped speaking as Adrian stood.

"Where is he?" The words were softly spoken, yet Klaus answered swiftly all the same.

Adrian nodded, thanked Klaus, and swept from the lap. Klaus sighed in relief as soon as the door slammed shut.

Adrian stormed through the hallways of the newly captured stronghold. He was thankful that his lab was undisturbed during his time away, largely due to his spellwork. It was quite easy for his lord and the rest of their forces to move from the Russian hidden bunkers to the Mountain stronghold that his wife's progeny granted them access. As far as he was aware, his lord was still deciding upon a name for the location, as was custom for him.

Adrian mentally scuffed at some of the names his lord decided upon for various locations, but he would never do so outside of his secure mindscape. After all, names held power, a fact that his lord knew all too well.

He knocked on the highest office door in the stronghold and waited impatiently.

"Enter"

He barged in, ignoring his wife and her progeny in the room, looking only at Lord Grindelwald. Hermione squeaked in surprise as Adrian stormed past her, and Sonja frowned, knowing the look on his face.

Grindelwald raised a single eyebrow before flicking his wrist to dismiss the other two occupants of the room. Swiftly they obeyed. Once the door shut again, he placed his hands behind his back, and waited for Adrian to speak.

"Voldemort took Perenelle." Grindelwald's face turned grim, and a sad look appeared in his eyes.

"A pity. I take it you would like to rescue her."

"Rescue her and kill him yes." Adrian frowned as his lord shook his head.

"As much as I would love to rescue her, and have the Alchemist in our debt, I cannot risk the manpower required. You know our mission. I must regain my allies." Grindelwald shook his head as he started to pace the office. "We are entering this war late. Already the Vampires are refusing all offers from all comers. The werewolves are banding behind that Greyback fellow, baring those that are already with us, the Giants are with Voldemort, I refuse to utilize those disgusting beasts known as dementors even if I could thrall them from his clutches. The Veela wish for neutrality, and the only goblins with militant training are in Britain. Thus, we are already weakened."

Adrian spoke swiftly, an idea forming in his head. "That's why it is all the more important for us to kill Voldemort. If we take him out of the picture, our situation instantly becomes stronger. You said yourself that the reason we have little allies is due to his existence."

The man nodded at his friend's statement. Before again shaking his head. "I cannot think of a method to attack that would ensure victory, while also ensuring that our people are protected."

Adrian smiled, a pure and vicious thing. "I have a solution for that. We attack Azkaban."

Grindelwald looked vacantly over Adrian's shoulder for a few moments, before nodding. "I See what you intend. I approve. However, we shall be modifying your idea." Reaching into the left desk drawer, he pulled out a blue crystal mounted in a star of iron, covered in runes.

"Attacking Voldemort indirectly, you will take platoon three, under command of our newest General. She is the most familiar with Britain currently, and will serve as point. You have six months to take Azkaban Adrian. No more, no less. Come January First, I will be moving onto our primary objective." Grindelwald gave his orders fluidly, ensuring that his First Lieutenant understood them perfectly.

"Should you find yourself attacked by Voldemort himself, smash the crystal. It is a one time object and it will guarantee your survival." Adrian nodded as he placed it gently in a pocket. He looked at his leader and friend and bowed. He remembered bowing only to three people in his life, two of which were in the stronghold now.

Grindelwald looked at his closest follower and he Saw. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what would happen here, and it was something he knew that he could not prevent. He could only give his Lieutenant the tools he needed. "While you are traveling and preparing, train General Granger. She will play a pivotal role in this, and she needs the strength."

"Yes My-" Adrian started before Grindelwald's magic erupted around him and silenced him instantly. He smiled sheepishly. "My apologies… Yes Gellert. It shall be done." He turned to leave, and when he reached the door, Grindelwald spoke once more.

"Adrian. You and Granger are not disposable. You are to return to me, alive. With her. Understood?"

Adrian looked over his shoulder, his eyes flashing as brightly as his smile. "Of course. Consider it done."

As soon as the door shut behind his doctor, Grindelwald slammed a fist on the desk, growling. He hated when his people did things that he couldn't completely plan for. And Adrian was notorious for it. He had a track record that spoke for itself, like all his Lieutenants, but it was still annoying to have to wait to See what he would do. He took a deep breath, and organized his mind once more. Looking at the wall, he mentally went through the dozens of actions he could take in light of what he just ordered. In his mind's eye, flashes of the future roared, and he discarded and modified ideas as swiftly as his mind could handle.

Lords above, sometimes he hated having hardheaded Lieutenants.

AN: So.. This begins the Azkaban arc of my tale. This arc covers the first six months of Harry's sixth year, and will showcase exactly the difference between the three sides. This chapter is primarily set up. I also closed a mini-arc for Draco. He is officially out of this story, being forced into hiding. He refused to be a carbon copy of his father, and wanted to be his own man.
This story... it encompasses an entire universe I have created. I have decided to officially create another story called Tales from the Grimoire, which will expand on the characters I created, the world itself, and just be one shots for it. I have my beta reading over the first few as we speak, but it may be a while before they are published. I hope you look forward to them.
Be safe yall,

Zero