Prologue:

Death, An Old Friend

Date: 23/09/2019

Time: 2247 hrs

Place: DE Facility 'Vorago', Gulf Of Guinea, Atlantic Ocean

I jump off of the Firebolt I am on and engage my wingsuit. Despite my combat load out, my wingsuit is able to handle the strain. I feel the winds buffeting me in every direction, which stops as soon as I cross the wardline. I use runic inscriptions on my boots, basically Banishing Charms, to control the direction of my flight.

I and two others are all that is left of the Resistance. Everything has fallen under the Dark Lord's heel.

My family. My wife. My friends.

All dead.

I can only thank whatever power there is in this world that none of us ever had children. Prolonged exposure to Dark Magic affected fertility apparently. Or so Hermione hypothesised.

I blink away my tears as I focus my mind on the mission.

A suicide op.

After my wife's death, I revel in those kind of ops. I even earned a nickname from the enemy for my utter ruthlessness on the battlefield and sheer cold-blooded brutality.

Mort.

I guess that's why old MoldyShorts decided he needed six more Horcruxes. Bastard was only alive because each Horcrux was a live person kept in suspended animation, with his soul piece leeching out their life.

I used the moment, waiting for my contact to signal the all clear, to study the target. It, at best, could be described as a mushroom-shaped structure, about 5 kilometers in diameter, made of smooth, black stone, shimmering with warding runes, glowing an eldritch purple. Reddish-orange light highlighted the mouth of 'Vorago'.

'The Pit'.

There! The flash of an infrared laser that my visor catches. Morse code.

A_L_L C_L_E_A_R.

I angle myself down and accelerate towards the flashed light, using my boots to give me a speed boost. I flash over the walls, a shadow against the night sky. Approaching my IP, I flip onto my back, activate my parachute and boots, slowing my descent as I orient myself to land on the ledge. I land on a knee and have my suppressed M1911s raised and pointing at the two figures in front of me.

"Holly" I say in challenge, knowing that the correct response was an Oath-bound secret. To which they would respond to an individual pass phrase that the other would not know.

"Hawthorn" replied Draco Malfoy, DE and now mole within them to me.

"Phoenix" replied Daphne Malfoy nee Greengrass. The two of them had come to me when their 6 year old son Scorpius was 'selected' by Voldemort to be one of his horcruxes.

And that was twelve years ago.

I nodded curtly as I holstered my pistols, removed my flight harness, and secured my weapons and explosives to my body.

"Sit-rep" I order, securing my helmet last, my enchanted visor adjusting automatically to the light, revealing their pale faces.

"He's going ahead with it. We need to stop the ritual now!" came Draco's reply. He had informed me of what ol' Moldy was upto and that I would need to cleanse Vorago. Not just of the DE. No, Vorago had been built on a point of confluence of all major leylines. All that dark energy had corrupted the leylines, affecting all species, flora and fauna, magical and mundane, making them into hideous monstrosities.

And now, Moldy wanted to ascend into godhood.

To do that, he had to summon and trap an entity, sacrifice it and absorb the resultant energy.

And he had picked the Vernal Equinox so that he could corrupt it completely, devastating the universe, rendering it into eternal night.

"Opposition" I order, as I secure a piton onto the stone and run an abseiling cord through it, cinching it onto my combat rig. Daphne replied.

"His entire Inner Circle, a company of magical mercenaries, three companies of mundane mercenaries, about 20 lethifolds and 10 dementors" she rattled off, knowing my concern is only for anything and everything that could be a threat.

I nod curtly and hand over a small medallion to them.

"You kept your end of the bargain. Now, I keep mine" I say, knowing the minute they use the overcharged Portkey to smash through the wards,everyone would go onto high alert.

Exactly what I wanted.

The Malfoys hesitantly nod, then as one engulf me in a hug. Quickly they pull away, Draco looking me firmly in the eye.

"Give him hell", at which my lips quirk into the approximation of a smile.

"That is the intention" I reply, a little bit of my humour creeping into my voice as I step off the ledge.

I made my way down the shaft, my suppressed L85A2 assault rifle leading the way. I scan as I go down, one eye on the mission clock. Deep down, I can see the red glow of the mantle.

There. Movement. Three figures. The Lestranges.

I shift my sights, flip the safety from safe to single shot. I then rest the tip of the foresight on Bellatrix's head and open fire.

My first shot causes her head to explode. I guess hollow point bullets would ruin anyone's day, huh?

I shift fire and stitch Rodolphus, then slot Rabastan as he reached for his DM.

Good, no alert.

I continue on my way, until I can't go any lower on the rope. Swinging on it, I slash at the rope with my K-bar, cutting myself off of it as I fly over to the opposite ledge that had a small IR light stuck on it. I land on it, my rifle at the ready. I crouch walk, following the route that Draco had shown me via Legillimency. I sweep the corners, my Supersensory charm acting as a radar.

I turn a corner to see ten DEs on a patrol. I don't hesitate in opening fire, slotting them all with ten rounds. Still no alert.

I suddenly feel a cold creeping over my skin as I turn a corner. Unlike earlier, Dementors have no effect on me. Not after I lost my wife.

I summoned the Sword Of Gryffindor and slashed at it, the Dementor's essence being sucked into the blade. I smirk as I stow it away in its pocket dimension. This one was Harry's contribution, a combination Undetectable Expansion charm and Featherweight charm anchored a certain distance from the caster.

Thinking of my brother-in-all-but-blood generally causes me to go into a funk. This time, it filled me with a sense of purpose.

I made my way to the Stasis chamber. One person stood over the central console.

"I was wondering when you would come, Mort" came a feminine voice. She turned around to look at me, her eyes red, her hair lank and skin pasty, with a demented grin on her face..

The Dark Lord's consort, Pansy Parkinson.

I guess Moldyshort's a paedophile. Gyuck, is my only opinion.

I didn't even respond to her remark, opening fire. The round struck her in the forehead, causing her head to jerk back. Slowly, her head set up straight.

"Now, that wasn't very nice" her voice shifted from childlike to a demented growl. I open fire as she Apparates around the place throwing things around, and at me. A glowing green jar slams next to me. I just manage to jump out of the way as the Greek fire detonates, throwing me into a pillar. I felt a vice like grip grab me and throw me into the ground. Then the same grip slams me again. And again. And again, and again, and again.

Spots and flashes dance in my vision, as I cough up blood. I can feel one of my lungs puncture from a broken rib. I turn around to see Parkinson holding my rifle, inspecting it curiously.

"Such a quaint little toy. Made by filthy Muggles I assume? Your father must be so proud, blood traitor. After all, didn't he too love to play with such toys?" she commented as she slowly bent the rifle out of shape.

"Oh by the way, your creature wife? We had so much fun playing with her! Even when she became nothing more than a drooling idiot, we all had our fun with her! And then, I got to eat her beating heart while she bled all over the place. Such a mess, no?" she commented as if she were talking of the weather.

"And now, I get to do the same thing to you" she said, and lunged at me, her face morphing into an animalistic form, her teeth and jaws large enough to make a Great White insecure and her hands morphing into claws.

I waited till the last second before summoning the Sword and slamming it into her head. The blade sunk right to the roof of her mouth, cutting into her brain. The basilisk venom and Dementor essence slowly caused her head, then her body to crumble to dust.

I felt myself start choking on blood, when I feel active magic flare around me. I struggle to lift my head up and turn to look at the stasis pods to see that all of the bodies inside were glowing red from the runes tattooed onto their bodies, their eyes glowing a sickly green.

I couldn't hear the Aramic chant, but I could feel it in my bones. Knowing now was as good a time as any to activate my weapon, I struggle out of my bullet proof vest and unbutton my shirt, revealing a pentagram inscribed into my chest. The runes would do one thing, and one thing only.

Utilise my life force as an explosive and vaporise the entire complex. Fittingly, we called it Soulfire.

The 12 kilometer crater where Stonehenge stood was because Tonks was about to be overwhelmed and used her last remaining life force to take out a battalion worth of Inferi.

I take my K-bar and slash my hand open. I then place my bloody hand on the centre of the tattoo. It lit up with a white light and I felt my body burn with energy.

And within a second I was overtaken by indescribable pain as my self ceased to be.

The next thing I knew was waking up on the ground with a black cowled figure standing over me, with its arms crossed. By the way it was leaning over me, and the general sense of being under an oppressive glare, I knew it was ticked off at me.

BOY, YOU DONE FUCKED UP it said.

Sorry for the cliffie, and the rewrite!

I've been busy with my job (my 1st year went off without major disasters, thank God!). Plus, the original storyline of 'Stronger' wasn't going anywhere, so I decided to look at it from a fresh view point.

Hope you'll like the new version!