Harry Potter and the Wrath of the Elder Gods
"Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are."
-Niccolò Machiavelli, 'The Prince'.
Johnatan Gladsgow was sixteen and, apparently since this summer, a wizard. He could have been a wizard since the age of eleven, but the 'wizard post office' had apparently lost his letter. He supposed he'd have to make do with the summer courses to recuperate on the lost time. He had expected to receive a wand or some sort of nifty rituals, but the entire month went by in the Scottish castle of Hogwarts with teachers explaining to them the importance of magic. How they were not supposed to play with it and how they should act on it responsibly were constantly drilled in their heads, because while magic could cause problems and solve them...some were far more difficult to solve than others.
He arrived with a 'portkey' to his destination, and as other older students escorted him with the rest of the students his age, older or slightly younger, down a set of narrow stairs towards the dining hall, he admired the rich tapestry that now adorned the wall towards the hall. He hadn't seen that during the summer. Then again, considering what the history of the place was…
Who would have thought that a boy the same age of his younger brother could hold such power? It sounded like a fairy tale or one of those comics about superheroes, yet it was unquestionably reality. Furthermore, there had even been a rebellion from what the teachers had said…and this boy, this thirteen or fourteen year old…had drowned it in blood.
Before, the wizards considered magic a childish fantasy and taught their children accordingly, the government hoarding to themselves the knowledge of the most powerful spells. Spells that could literally manslaughter armies called 'Dark' or 'Illegal' hidden from the world…just like Nukes. It was no surprise a child could rule: knowledge was power after all, and as long as one had power…then wasn't one meant to rule to begin with?
By coming from above, they ended up headed towards the tables in the upper balconies, which granted them a closer view of the ceiling that resembled the night-sky and made them watch from above the proceedings below.
He sat next to a dark skinned girl of thirteen and a tattooed and muscle-bound man of at least thirty-one. The girl's eyes were dark, just like at the same time her black hair descended in a set of braids all the way to half her shoulder length. The man on the other hand looked like a biker, one of those you usually see rolling on Harley Davidson in the movies. He looked sort-of funny in his robes, with the fabric rolled up to show his biceps.
He had grey eyes, cold and uncaring as they settled on him for a moment. Johnatan swallowed nervously, as suddenly all noises died out.
The 'First Years' entered the hall guided by the Praetorians, who had the Knight Granger at the head of the formation. His eyes then moved to the other side of the giant dining hall, where the so dubbed 'King' of Hogwarts stood seated at the middle of a table, with the teachers' staff to his sides.
The numbers of teachers easily reached the eighties.
Personally, he liked Madam Bauxdoinne —she was a…Quarter-Veela or something like that— since she taught them how to act in the wizard society, their tests always consisted of eating or drinking stuff properly, and on how to address one another. Wizard society had lords just like old England after all…they apparently had a King rather than a Queen, and a Ministry rather than the Prime Minister.
"Welcome," the King of Hogwarts spoke rising from his spot at the table, the giant wall of grey that stood behind him shifting ever so slightly, "Yes, behind me there is a giant snake," the King remarked calmly. "Do not be scared by the snake."
Johnatan snorted. There were low chuckles and giggles going around the hall as a few first years recoiled anyway. "Her name is Heather," the King continued softly, yet his voice carried on throughout the hall all the same. "And she is a Basilisk…she is a nice Basilisk, and won't eat you. Do avoid putting your arms in her mouth however: her fangs are poisonous…extremely poisonous."
The King brought up his right hand. "And before someone asks why there is an extremely poisonous snake, which is also as tall as a building inside a school…it's because it's an intelligent snake. She speaks…her language, and she knows who to eat and who not to eat. And most of the time, she can be found hanging around the Forbidden Forest…and plus, well," the King moved his right hand in two calm spins, as if gesturing for the snake to do something.
Johnatan smiled. He remembered that happening also the last time.
The Basilisk's head came into view then and with it the two giant and pink earmuffs. Now a few of the first years actually chuckled at that display.
"She is, I repeat, not a danger to you as long as you keep a respectful distance," it was then that the boy coughed slightly, and gave a nod to the snake who playfully winked at the first years.
"That said, there are a few laws to follow in order to ensure you will have a fulfilling time at Hogwarts devoid of risks. The first thing, the most important thing you must understand is that magic is not a game. I will not tolerate magical forms of bullying, and if anyone at all will be found using magic for a silly and petty reason like bullying…I will have you expelled." He gestured with his open hand to professor Snape, the one who could make your soul shiver by simply looking at you —and Johnatan knew all about the man, since he was the one who taught potions. "Professor Snape, illustrate a common example of bullying with magic and the consequences…"
"Ah," the man looked like a kid given the permission to raze a candy store. "Where should I begin? The curses that remove your hair, the nerve-wracking pains and pustules that can spread through parts of your body unmentioned? There are spells seemingly innocuous like Aguamenti that can result in interesting experiments when conjoined with Wingardium Leviosa, namely the fall of three tons of water above unsuspecting…"
The professor of Potions spoke thus for at least fifteen minutes, growing more and more heated as he kept on delving on possible types of pranks and their after-effects, speaking of the pain of traumas and phobias that were developed. He spoke with a hard tone and a clearly cut intention of making it extremely certain that bullying was not a nice thing.
"Professor," the King spoke then with a slightly raised eyebrow. "It's enough for now."
"Very well," Severus coughed, before slowly sitting back down.
"The second law, the clearest of them all is also one of the simplest to boot: treat everyone as you wish to be treated, and do not judge a book by its cover. Talks of blood purity are what brought Wizardry Britain to its knees once already, and I will not tolerate any form of racism, be it genealogical, ideological, and theological or of any other form. The third law is once more simple to follow: if you're having troubles, be it with fellow students or a professor, you can come and talk either to myself or the Representative of the Queen, mister Gordsworth, who is currently at my left."
Johnatan looked towards the portly man with a trimmed moustache and a pair of small circular eyeglasses. He was wearing robes, probably to 'fit in' as he was a 'muggle'.
"Finally, if someone wants the full charter of laws of Hogwarts, he or she may freely peruse it in Mister Filch's office. He is also one of the caretakers of Hogwarts, just like the House Elves currently preparing the meal for us as we speak. If anyone has dietary needs of sort…speak to your plate. No, I am being serious, no need to look at me with those wide eyes," the King was amiable enough that even the most stressed out of the first years had started to relax…and sort of start jumping from one leg to the other in wait for the introduction to be over.
"Your voice will carry on to the kitchen, and the elves will remember the next time around."
There was a moment of silence, before the King finally nodded to himself and said, "Very well…I hereby bid you welcome into the halls of Hogwarts, school of wizardry and witchcraft! I am Duke Harry James Salazar Gryffindor Ravenclaw Hufflepuff Potter Wyllt and a plethora of surnames I cannot remember. I am the Headmaster of the school, whose title is 'King' since last year, and the ruler of half of magical England, as recognized by the Queen's own edict. While I may be young, I am also fair. Knight Granger? Proceed."
Johnatan watched as the raven haired Knight strolled forward, placing the first years in the free spots left in the middle of the various tables. In order to avoid also a class separation, second through seventh year randomly sat along the tables. Granger nudged the first years between third, fifth, or seventh, in order to ensure whatever fears they had was squashed by the mere presence of others older than them.
It also helped that the majority of the students remaining were either muggleborns or half-bloods.
Knight Granger then slowly walked her way towards a table where another Knight, blonde-haired, had kept her a seat.
The King still stood, as if in wait. The doors of the hall opened once more, this time to admit a hefty group of black leather-dressed students. A ghost, one that resembled some sort of old Nordic warrior, guided them. "Oleg!" the Headmaster of Hogwarts exclaimed, before delving into a speech in another tongue.
The leather-coat students seemed unperturbed as the boy delivered to them the same speech as he did to the Hogwarts ones —at least, that was what Johnatan had understood about it. There were a few murmurs in the crowd of students already seated, pointing at a particular student among the crowd. He heard a name being said 'Viktor' and something about him being a 'seeker' or similar.
The leather-dressed students sat between the remaining spaces, so that they forcefully were in the middle of Hogwarts students.
Finally, the King sat down at last at his seat and exclaimed.
"Let the feast begin!" with a thunderous clap, suddenly the tables filled with food. He watched with a surprised look the biker to his side eating boiled vegetables, while he himself began to pilfer at his meat.
"Once they divided the students in houses," the dark skinned girl to his side suddenly said. "It was the Founders' tradition to do so." She made a grin. "There was a veritable mess with the cup at the end of the year once, everyone screaming 'the cup to the scum'…and from there on the process was abolished. This is the first year Hogwarts goes without houses," she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And the first year we have Durmstrang students as Hogwarts ones."
"Uh?" Johnatan grunted. "What's Durmstrang?"
"Oh," the girl seemed delighted he had actually asked. "That's the school that was in the north, near Russia or somewhere like that," she said. "It was a floating iceberg fortress, but some say that it's a ship now."
"And why are they here now?"
"You didn't look at the tapestry much, did you?" there was a condescending tone in the girl that naturally made Johnatan slightly bitter. So what if he hadn't 'admired' the thing? He had looked at it, but then again how could people expect to believe half of what they said about the boy?
"Somehow, the King battled the headmaster of Durmstrang because he was doing blood rituals…he defeated him and acquired the rights of the school through battle, as was the old Viking tradition."
"So…that boy over there managed to defeat an old and powerful wizard alone?"
"You are seeing the scars like I am, right? Have you seen his hands?"
"So he's a murderer," Johnatan replied softly. "Isn't that it, in the end?"
The dark skinned girl gave him an annoyed look. "Well, I'd like to see you trying to stop a blood ritual without killing someone."
"But weren't there Bobbies or something like that?"
"Sometimes you don't have the time to call for the police," the thirty-something years old biker said suddenly, his voice low and growling, "And when you don't have the time you can either act or let the bastards get away with it."
Johnatan said nothing more; lowering his gaze to the table's surface, he started to eat quietly from that moment forth.
Harry
The light chatter of the dining hall soon filled the hall, as people began to talk and ease up one with the other. Sure, there were still some tensions here and there, but for the most part the assembled student body was subdued and happy.
Everything was going to be fine. The school year would pass by in a breeze, and soon the Triwizard tournament would start. He carefully nudged Sophie out from his lap, where the phoenix had taken to sleeping like some sort of cat when she was tired, and watched with a slight smirk as the bird eyed him and scowled. A squawk later and she flapped her powerful red wings away, making a circle around the ceiling and washing in a shower of golden sparks the room, eliciting the awed remarks of the students.
The dining feast done, Harry stood up with a calm smooth motion, gesturing towards both Draco and Hermione. "Escort the students to their respective dormitories, depending on the class curriculum they have to partake in. Sleep well, for lessons begin tomorrow morning."
With a final wave of the hand, he saluted his students and left for the Headmaster's office.
The room had letters everywhere. Ledgers that were half-filled and with their body open were everywhere, as thousands of documents of various natures floated around like headless chickens. A metallic archive flew overhead, collecting a stack of completed work.
Harry sighed as he sat down at the desk, letting the quill come to his hand as he tinged the tip of it in the inkpot, before beginning to write on yet one more document concerning provisions.
The magical state of Uganda wanted to send some of its wizards to study in Great Britain, just like the Albania consulate had a request for more spots to open for their transfer students —apparently the ones in Italy had closed, something about a political movement refuting to allow wizard foreigners in having risen to power.
There was some sort of movement going on, which had its roots in the Greek Supremacist one —which thanks to the economic crisis had actually gained control. Nothing like being on a hungry stomach united people more…and nothing like a common enemy made them all stand together.
Harry would be pulling another all-nighter —he just knew it. "Twinky? Tea please," he asked then to the empty air, only for a house elf to appear a moment later with a tray which held biscuits and a mug filled to the brim.
He would have drunk coffee, if only he could stand its bitterness. As it was, the mug of tea would hold him awake at least until midnight or beyond —he had some documents that needed his approval before the end of the week. There were treaties to discuss with the centaurs, which had to be done only on specific nights beneath specific stars, and the Kraken in the lake actually wanted a blond wig —for some reason Harry had no idea why and actually didn't want to know the reason for.
The Acromantulas that remained in the forest following their 'excursion' into the school grounds asked to be spared and offered their silks as payment for using the forest to hunt, and that was an offer he had taken them on with.
The fact he had Heather coiled behind his shoulders while negotiating meant nothing of course —even though they had been extremely generous with their offers after seeing his scaly Death-Glaring friend.
He grumbled as a stack of paper soon flew from his desk to the archive once more, leaving him with a new blank pile to start with. He couldn't just sign the papers: he had to read them. This wasn't even half of it: the rest was at Gringotts, where his own personal retinue of goblins —paid most handsomely— worked non-stop to keep his finances in check and began investing.
Sophie cawed from her perch, flapping her wings and playfully trying to convince Machiavelli to do something different from sleeping. His owl was apparently a chicken when it came to the night. He supposed that was the prize to pay for Hybrids…
He tapped with his fingers on his desk, his eyes drooping ever so slightly because of fatigue. How long was he supposed to work still for that night?
He needed an accountant, but unfortunately, the Wizard world did not understand the terms 'signature by proxy'…or maybe it understood them too well, and the possible abuse that could come from it.
Shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts, he signed one last paper which made an order to the local Hogsmeade village for wool cloaks to use during the winter that were to be stashed in the supply rooms.
Then, promptly, he fell asleep on the desk too tired to move a finger.
Lillian Potter
Lavender Brown and the Patil twins shared the room with her. The ex-Gryffindors looked at ease, while the ex-Ravenclaw was slightly worried —probably because ex-lions surrounded her.
There was a small knocking sound from the door, just as she was about to turn in for the night. She frowned, before slowly walking towards the source of the noise and opening the door slightly. The raven haired Hermione stood on the other side, still wearing her Knight uniform. Her hazel eyes seemed to shine slightly, as she held a sweet smile on her face.
"Lillian? I didn't wake you up, did I? Can we talk for a bit?"
Lillian nodded back, a small curious expression on her face. What was there to talk about this late at night? She hastily put on a sweater, before slipping her feet in her slippers and heading outside, slowly closing the door behind as to not wake her roommates.
Hermione gestured for her to follow, and as she did, they descended the stairs that went from the female rooms all the way down to the common room of the tower. Hermione smiled sweetly as they reached the end of the stairs, before suddenly slamming a fist into Lillian's guts and sending the girl sprawling on the ground.
Lillian would have screamed, if the pain added with the speed with which Hermione pushed a hand against her mouth hadn't prevented that. The girl's eyes widened in fear when she felt the wooden tip of Hermione's wand pressed against her neck, feeling cold and uncaring against her skin.
"Now listen well, brat," Hermione hissed out with venom positively dropping from her voice. "I don't know what treacherous words or bullshit you fed Harry, but this stops now. He believes in you? That's rich, isn't it?" her eyes didn't look shiny anymore…they looked scary and positively murderous. "You are supposed to be what, his moral compass? Don't make me laugh." She moved her face closer to hers, so much that Lillian could feel Hermione's hot breath wash over her face.
"If Harry needs someone, then that someone is me. He doesn't need a stupid brat who opposed him and who didn't even move a finger to save her friend when she was taken to Azkaban." Lillian's heart was beating erratically, as the firm grip of Hermione on her mouth seemed to increase.
"You are a child," Hermione whispered. "And you, you…you are supposed to be the one Harry should listen to? What did you do to him, uh? Well? What did you do to him? What did you tell him? Did you cry with your fake crocodile tears maybe? Did you blackmail him? What did you do to make him believe you are worthy of even speaking in his presence?" Hermione's voice was low and malicious; it dripped not only with venom, but also with hatred so pure Lillian could bottle it up.
And she…she had been seeing a mind-healer!?
"The King is always right," Hermione murmured. "He is never wrong. He could rule Great Britain within seconds, and you…you can't even kill someone. What's the best you can do? Flipendo?" the raven-haired girl snorted as she let the tip of her wand slowly move down Lillian's neck. "I spent my summer reading about curses, about…magic both light and 'dark'. And you know what?" she cooed whispering at the girl's ear. "There is no difference between a 'light' torture and a 'dark' one…if not the name," she chuckled then.
"Maybe…If I use Crucio you will tell me?"
Lillian's eyes widened in fear, as she tried to speak through the hand that pressed her mouth shut to no avail. "No?" Hermione pouted. "You won't?"
She had done nothing! Harry had come to her, it hadn't been the opposite!
"You know what?" Hermione smiled suddenly. "Maybe it's because…I'm using the wrong threat," she whispered. "I know!" Lillian's eyes widened as she felt a strong hit to her stomach, which nearly made her throw up as Hermione had kneed her in the guts. "I think I will give you one week and…if you haven't stopped talking to Harry by then…" she slowly brought up her right hand, "I will kill your parents."
Hermione whispered a spell then, something Lillian couldn't catch…and the next moment, she was asleep.
She was asleep…and dreaming of nightmares.
Lord Voldemort
The Felix Felicis true might was undervalued. One sip, one clear intention, and the world bowed to your will. You took a sip and then you thought about ruling a country and just so casually a rebellion would sprout, using the undercurrent of malcontent that always existed where there was a minority.
The sad thing was that he had risen to power in England in the same way.
A sip of golden luck, the right intention…and magic did the rest.
People were stupid, but wizards were stupider. There was a distinctive difference between what the law said you could not do and what you really could not do, and he had abused that difference for all of its worth.
Peter Pettigrew's pathetic last stand had been a thorn, but not one difficult to remove. The man had brought slander to him, but not proofs —if he had, then it would have ended up with far more dead among his own retinue…killed by him. He had to monologue his mother's side of the family, before adding in the Black family line by using a castoff that he knew Walburga had missed to remove from her tapestry and that had simply 'gone missing'.
Walburga had a fire in her veins when she still lived…she was actually one of the few witches he actually respected —especially for her intensive knowledge of curses.
"Has the last shipment arrived on schedule?" he asked calmly to Coryphaeus, as the noble wizard wanted himself called.
"Yes, my noble Emperor," Coryphaeus replied. He was a stalwart man, with dark hair and bright shining blue eyes. He had been a soldier before answering the call to serve his country's true and pure interests, and because of that, he was also one of the few persons Voldemort valued…short of being loyal, at least he was effective.
"Very well," Voldemort said. "How are the…women, faring?"
"They are well," Coryphaeus replied. "The old traditions did not unsettle them much."
"I hoped so," he sneered. "What about the Italians?"
"They are surprisingly receptive to our influence," Coryphaeus answered. "We are having troubles with the Universitatis…their headmistress is—"
"Do not worry about her," Voldemort snapped back. "She is nothing more than an old crone, mentally instable and already showing sign of Death creeping over her."
"I understand my Emperor," the soldier —he was garbed in a military uniform— walked with purpose towards a long marble and gold table, upon which a map showed tiny black dots moving around —all depicting where the Death Eaters were in the world.
"Your Highness?" Coryphaeus exhaled slowly. "The Berlin Death Eaters are no longer on the map."
Voldemort did not frown. He simply stood from his throne and walked quietly forward, towards the map. With delicate fingers, he gently touched the closest of the black points on the map and whispered. "Morsmordre!"
Soon, he felt his mind connect with that of the Death Eater in question —a young man in his twenty-two— and with that came the possibility for him to speak directly into the youth's brains, and to impart orders… "Go to Berlin, my faithful servant. Find what happened there to the Death Eaters assigned…and do not betray my expectations!"
"It will be done, my Lord."
Voldemort sneered as he cut off the communication. The young man had probably not yet received the information of what his new title was supposed to be.
He would, and then he would pay for his affront with a pain curse.
Voldemort moved out of the throne room he had fashioned for himself, followed by Coryphaeus who seemed unperturbed by the sudden desire to move of his Emperor.
"Tell me, Coryphaeus," Voldemort remarked. "Why do wizard not rule the world?"
"Because we are few," the man replied. "And because we are divided."
"Indeed," the Dark Emperor replied. "But what else? Do you know of the myth of Atlantis?"
"Yes, my Emperor," the soldier said. "They tried to gift their magic onto everyone, the muggles and the squibs…and they failed and were punished by the gods for it."
"I wonder," the Dark Lord smirked. "What makes you so certain Gods exist? The cave dwellers who drew on the dirt knew nothing of gods, yet they lived and died without remorse. No, Coryphaeus, do not fall prey to the will of the weak-willed: it was not the gods who destroyed Atlantis…but the Atlantean themselves. They experimented with magic beyond their comprehension. They tried to gift magic, but in order to do so…they had to understand it."
The Dark Lord's robe billowed in the wind as the man brought his hands to rest on a marble rail of a balcony that overlooked the entire city of Athens. "Look at them, going about their daily lives without magic. They know not what power is, what right or wrong is, they are ignorant fools and yet they outnumber us, they outsmart us! You were a soldier, a mercenary, you know of this: why? Why could humans who are so frails and pathetic become stronger as a whole than us, who wield magic? We could bring down the moon upon their heads, should we wish for it! Yet…yet they could tear apart this world with the push of a button." Voldemort's breath stilled as his eyes narrowed on the population.
"They are a sin upon the Earth," Voldemort finally whispered. "They must be used as a mean to an end, and nothing more," he finally said. "Coryphaeus, my loyal soldier…What I require of you, will you do it?"
"As my Emperor commands, so I will do," Coryphaeus answered as he kneeled in front of Voldemort, his head low.
"I need you to go somewhere, to check on something for me," Voldemort whispered. "To Godric's Hollow, in West Country…in England."
"My Emperor?"
"There you will find a grave," the Dark Lord remarked. "Tell the grave 'Among the lies, grant me the truth hidden by the wicked prophecies'. It will open a path and…at the end, there will be something that you must bring back to me…if there is nothing, then…then you must tread carefully as you return."
"My Emperor…your will is my command."
"Go then, Coryphaeus," Voldemort said briskly. "Go and do not fail me!"
There was a light pop, and then the man was long gone.
Tom Marvolo Riddle, known as the Dark Emperor Voldemort, exhaled slowly as his eyes settled upon the bustling city of muggles.
"Soon," he murmured. "Soon your blight will end."
Gellert Grindelwald
"And everything is in place! I kept in check with all the contacts Mister Grindelwald, and the Nargles as well as the Crumple Horned Snorkacks are ready to—"
"Xenophilius," Gellert sighed as he rolled his eyes. "I understand you have done a good job, kind," his voice was rough as he took a sip of the tea the man offered him.
"Of course Mister Grindelwald," Xenophilius smiled. "Might I now ask for—"
"Indeed," Gellert nodded calmly. "I have the Elder Wand in my possession, once more…and the location of the remaining Hallows has been uncovered."
"Excellent!" Xenophilius' exclamation made Gellert wince slightly, while the blond-haired man furiously clapped and jumped around the room. "Your funds in Switzerland are safe, Mister Grindelwald…and with your permission, I will call forth your loyal men! We can finally grasp the Hallows, and bring forth the end of Death!"
The director of the Quibbler was ecstatic. "Oh, my little Luna will finally see her mother again!"
"So you have all the contacts in here, kind?" he asked once more, looking at the thick stack of papers in front of him. He had to admit that faking creatures just to hide weapon caches around the world and setting up rings of loyal soldiers…and calling them 'Nargles' to let people roll their eyes and let him go unpunished nearly everywhere…
Nobody ever cared for the lunatics' actions…until they came crumbling down against the sane.
"Ah, yes! Everything! My wife used to say I was a disaster, but this was important so I took a page from her book and kept everything in order! M…Maybe I should do something about Luna…" he murmured. "Yeah, she's going to be so surprised!"
"Indeed," Gellert nodded as he stood up, taking his wand out. "She is going to be…extremely surprised."
"Mister Grindelwald?"
"You have done well, kind. But now…now I am no longer in need of your services," he narrowed his eyes. "And a madman left to his own devises is too dangerous to let go free."
"Uh? But you swore! You made a magical oath!"
"Indeed I have! So rejoice… for you will reunite with your wife as I promised!" and then Gellert pointed his wand at Xenophilius, letting it move as if it was a sword.
Blood drenched the carpet and the wall behind the man, as the corpse of Xenophilius Lovegood fell on the ground with a dull thud.
"I am back," Gellert whispered, "And this time around…no treachery will take away what is rightfully mine."
And with those words pronounced, Gellert Grindelwald began to grab all the documents that remained on the desk. He had much to do.
He had a Reichstag to rebuild, after all.
Author's notes
And we begin once more.
Yandere-Hermione is such a cute girl, isn't she?