Odyssey of a Mage Part II

by mootjeman7

Part II of Odyssey of a Mage. Begins in the Grindelwald War Era. Atticus Sayre, reincarnated soul navigates the perils of life. War and Peace, Life and Death, Love and Hate, all of these Atticus Sayre must contend with if he is to shoulder the responsibilities he's taken on for the Magical World. Ruthless, Determined SI-OC. Fem Riddle. Pre-Halo Crossover.

18. Chapter 65 Part I

Hello All, welcome back to the story!

Without further adieu, please enjoy the post and as always I'll ask for you to please let me know what you think! I read every review and consider every comment.

SalemTheSpeakerOfTruth I agree somewhat. Ideally I'd have the time to spend to truly familiarise with the historical figures but I can't really do that realistically. I mean historians spent years doing that and often only get an impression of who they were through the perceptions of others. I think I stylised Churchill in this manner...the King's perception is fair enough I think.

The Jabberwock of OZ Glad you liked that part. It's a satisfying part to write even if it can be a little difficult.

Mastersgtjames He's finished the rituals. Emily hasn't but will in the near future (but won't be shown - too much to cover)

doraemax TehStorm ZhaWarudo As always, thanks for the reviews, I can always count on reading your (often very positive) reviews!

naruto I don't know if you're the same naruto that always leaves a comment but I appreciate the positive messages even if they're often at most two words long ;)

HughJasz Of course can't respond to reviews without responding to you! As always, thanks for the comments and know that I appreciate it! Reading what you think might happen or what you're looking forward / hope happens is fun to read

Hahaha, good catch. TBF a lot of my work would probably be an editor's wet dream. I mean I churn all of this out without someone else looking at it before I publish. Sometimes I shudder at the thought of editing The Odyssey of a Mage Part properly. It definitely needs a 'pimp my ride' kinda make over...though obviously a lot less tacky!

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next three chapters are available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117 where we are now in the second chapter of the final Arc of the story which returns to world building.

The discord channel is d^i^s^c^o^r^d^.^g^g^/^v^r^8^8^t^6^4^Y^e^7

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-Break-

3rd of April 1943

HEROES OF BRITAIN RETURN HOME TRIUMPHANTLY

By: Cordelia Smith

Ever since the news of Grindelwald's defeat at the hands of Lord Sayre, the anticipated return of the Heroes of Britain has created an atmosphere of palpable excitement and impatience something that could not be more so felt than yesterday afternoon at the Ministry as a huge crowd gathered to welcome them home!

[Picture of the crowd gathering]

The crowd broke into loud cheers as over two hundred members of the Knights of Mimpost arrived from the international floo from France where they received the Médaille de la vaillance [See Pg 4 for full breakdown!] and leading them was none other than Lord Sayre, defeater of Dark Lord Grindelwald!

He received the loudest cheers as he waved to the crowd and he had this to say "I am gladdened to see you all to welcome us home. Our time of war is over with the death of Grindelwald and now comes the time of peace, hopefully everlasting."

This marks the end of the Knights of Mimpost who formed as an answer to Lord Sayre's call to arms. Parelius Parkinson had this to say "The Knights of Mimpost has achieved what it had set it out to do; bring an end to the tyranny of Grindelwald. Our fight has ended but the symbolism of what the organisation means lives on" [See Pg 6 for more]

The impact of the Knights cannot be understated and the crowning achievement of the organisation's leader, Lord Sayre will ensure that it will always be remembered at home and abroad.

The now permanent French Minister, Lucas Peltier had this to say about their contributions to France's reclamation of their independence "Without their efforts, our country would have struggled for much longer and we would have lost many more French citizens to the hands of butchers and foul creatures. For that, they have our gratitude and deserve no less than our most honoured awards"

This commendation many of our brave countrymen received has raised questions amongst the public, none more so than this probing question;

When will these brave heroes from Britain will receive their Orders of Merlin from our Ministry for their contribution?

"Lord Sayre, may Merlin bless his soul, deserves his First Order of Merlin, there is no question about that but I think all those other men and women who fought with him also deserve something!" A shopkeeper from Diagon Alley…

"Lord Sayre, the Minister is ready for you" the nervous secretary said, breaking him out of the Daily Prophet article he was reading. He glanced at her and offered a gentle smile which made her blush slightly.

He closed the paper and placed it on the desk before he got up.

"Thank you Miss Everline" he told her and she looked a little faint as he walked past her.

"He knows my name…?" he heard her whisper to herself.

He walked through the doors and was soon in the spacious Ministerial office that every Minister since the inception of the Ministry had held.

The Minister was seated behind his desk, intently gazing at him whilst he sat back in his chair, attempting to give off an air of ease. It was in vain. He could sense the hints of trepidation that he was holding in, much to Atticus' amusement and quiet satisfaction.

Atticus' eyes broke away from Spencer-Moon and they travelled across the room, taking in every last detail.

It was an oval office surrounded by walls carved out of rich mahogany woods that gave the office a dilute degree of power, one that came with age and wisdom.

An office wasted on Spencer-Moon.

He heard the quick footsteps of the secretary and the doors closed behind him, taking it as a que to continue walking.

Spencer-Moon remained silent even as Atticus took the unoffered seat opposite the Minister until he broke that silence as soon Atticus got situated in his seat.

"Lord Sayre" The Minister began slowly "I would like to say, welcome back home and to let you know what you and your fellows did for this country is commendable and for that you have the gratitude of the Ministry of Magic." Spencer-Moon finally said with an easy smile, causing Atticus to quirk his eyebrow.

Spencer-Moon gave off an energy that was apprehensive and nervous but oddly determined, deeply in contrast with his genial smile.

The Minister had 'invited' him to come in today late last night. He knew that it was unavoidable, the nature of both of their positions warranted it even if neither liked it.

No doubt that Spencer-Moon would never want to see him and he felt the same.

Spencer-Moon's actions towards his House and more specifically his mother during that debacle in St. Mungos made him persona non grata with House Sayre.

Something he knew.

It must hurt him to play this song and dance. He had, perhaps not completely but enough, staked his security on Dumbledore…which has crumbled completely from underneath him.

Politically, he was weak and an easy scapegoat to give to the public when uncomfortable questions were asked, especially with regards to why the Ministry remained neutral for so long.

Of course, the fact that there were many within the Wizengamot that did not want to pay or send men to fight in the war and actively voted against all but the most inconsequential bills against Grindelwald would quietly go unmentioned.

For Spencer-Moon to open up with a statement such as that…

Well, it was obvious what he wanted.

Atticus' smiled thinly as he sat back in his chair, his fingers caressing the armrest with a slow deliberate act. "Does that also include the personal gratitude of the Minister himself?" he asked as the lines of his eyes sharpened, the thin smile he bore suddenly looked a lot more predatory.

The smile adorned on the Minister's face became fixed, strained but regained that easy air he was trying to pass off. "It does, Lord Sayre. After what Grindelwald had deviously planned to do to the Magical World, I think you most likely have the gratitude of all but the most ardent supporter of the madman" Spencer-Moon said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Of course" Spencer-Moon continued "That we all managed to find out about his plans the next day mere hours after your defeat of the man is a miracle in itself." He hadn't narrowed his eyes, not quite, but the accusation was plain to see in his words and in his eyes.

So that is how he wanted to play this?

He'd been well aware of the oddness that the more notable politicians and astute individuals would note with regards to how the news was broken to the public, Higgins had been brought to the Auror Department on several occasions to be asked some pointed questions to how he managed to get those images in the first place.

Their plans ensured that Higgins could never spill anything that they didn't want anyone to know and his status as a pureblood protected him from the treatment he would have received otherwise.

Higgins had personally destroyed what he believed to be the equipment that was used and he had sworn an oath to that effect.

They would never prove he had a hand in it and that was all that mattered.

Atticus' smile only broadened "Yes, I had not known that the IMP had such capabilities to spy on us to that degree though in this instance I'm quite glad they were capable of it…after all, they've shown the world how...dangerous Grindelwald was."

Spencer-Moon caught his emphasis and Atticus' sensed his rising heartbeat, as if he were truly only just realising who was opposite him.

"…Quite" Spencer-Moon finally said after a few long, uneasy seconds.

"Why am I here, Minister?" Atticus asked with a long stare.

"I have much to catch up on and whilst I am quite appreciative of being invited into your humble office" Atticus' lips curled upward "I am in no position to leave my duties unintended for any unnecessary frivolities…I am sure you understand"

Spencer-Moon glared at Atticus, the sounds of his teeth grinding almost were audible before the Minister visibly relaxed himself and clasped his hands, placing them on the table and met Atticus' gaze.

"I don't like you." The Minister said in a simple statement of fact.

Atticus leaned forward, slowly, his hands gripping the armrest as his face twisted away from the smile he wore, so slow and yet so sudden, as if autumn never existed when his face turned from summer to winter, the cold hard look in his eyes fixed directly onto Spencer-Moon's alarmed eyes.

"The feeling is mutual" he said in a soft whisper, one that did not hide his intense dislike of the man before him and could be heard from the most distant reaches of the room.

Spencer-Moon visibly resisted the urge to shiver under the intense stare but smiled thinly before he nodded grimly.

"Now that we have both admitted our enmity with each other, I will be plain. Despite heading into war without the approval with the Wizengamot and the Ministry, an act that should see you punished" Spencer-Moon lips thinned in consternation before he continued "I'm well aware such initiation will only see me thrown from this office faster than I can say Gobbledygook." Spencer-Moon took a deep breath before he fixed Atticus with a glare.

"Not to mention your ownership of the IMP – no matter how much you will say otherwise, you own that paper – will only ensure my disgrace will last beyond my lifetime" Spencer-Moon said that in a bitter tone.

"As much as your realisation of the position you are currently in" Atticus said in an uncaring tone as he leaned back in his chair "It doesn't explain why I am here…Minister"

"An alliance" The Minster said simply. Atticus tilted his head indicating for the Minister to continue on.

"It does not take a genius to understand that the political landscape of Britain…of Europe has changed completely with your defeat of Grindelwald and I offer to…aid you in your plans for the future"

Atticus chuckled as he leaned back into his chair, his index finger tapping onto the armrest. "What makes you think I have any plans?" he mused to Spencer-Moon who scoffed.

"Please. We both know that someone like you doesn't go away into the abyss" Spencer-Moon said firmly.

'As much as he would like to' was left unsaid but made clear.

"Alright" Atticus said after a moment's pause "Let's consider this notion of yours that I do have these imaginary plans that you think I have." Atticus' gaze turned impassive.

"What makes you think I'd allow you to remain in that comfortable seat of yours?"

Spencer-Moon smiled grimly "Because if I'm gone, there is no guarantee that you'll have someone in this office that will work with you as much as I would." Spencer-Moon leaned forward, his gaze unblinking "The Wizengamot may be singing your praises at this time but it will turn on you the moment you begin to change things from the way they have been for centuries."

It wasn't something he was unaware of. The Wizengamot was almost entirely self-serving and rarely enacted policies that benefitted society as a whole and served as a wheel to further their economic interests whilst they stifled progress.

Any threats to their power would be something they'd fight against almost like a combined entity.

It was why Emily's actions at Hogwarts would become vital for the future.

Unfortunately, that power and loyalty she held on the heirs did not translate over to the current Lords and Ladies which meant they'd have to rely on his popularity for the present.

Spencer-Moon continued "Oh, you will have your family's alliances, even new ones but both Progressives and Traditionalists will ally against you if only for the fear they will have that you hold too much sway and power."

"You overestimate the opposition I could potentially face" Atticus said in a calm tone.

He knew what Spencer-Moon was doing…opening up with an aggressive stance only to offer a mutually beneficial alliance that was purely based on what they could do for each other…regardless of their intense dislike of each other.

He'd survive and Atticus would gain the necessary bolstering support they'd need to dominate the Wizengamot.

It was…tempting.

Spencer-Moon chuckled cheerlessly "And you underestimate it." He said pointedly. "Let's not forget that Albus Dumbledore had deep ties within the Progressive faction, especially with Lord McKinnon"

Atticus had known that Dumbledore had already had his fingers in the Progressive faction so it wasn't news to him that he was speaking with McKinnon. The fact that Spencer-Moon knew though…

He imagined Spencer-Moon probably planned on allying with them given his nature…

Interesting to see where things might have headed.

If Dumbledore hadn't been the fool that he was, Atticus could have seen Dumbledore at the helm of the faction gaining more power with no little amount of support from the Ministry itself.

Especially since Dumbledore could have been a counterweight to Atticus that would have proven likely more palatable to many individuals within the Wizengamot especially to the McKinnons and their allies.

The enmity between House McKinnon and House Sayre was not significant but it wasn't insignificant either. House McKinnon took advantage, successfully, during the most perilous era of his family and usurped the DMLE dragonhide contract when it seemed his House had gone extinct.

It hadn't ended there either as the McKinnons had made moves to take over all of House Sayre's Dragon sanctuaries and ranches around the world, only being halted from succeeding by the remaining but still powerful vassals of House Sayre.

It ended once Henry Sayre was affirmed as the Heir Sayre and under the protection of House Black.

Since then, no business, marriages or alliances happened between the two families.

The change in House Sayre's stance from neutral and uninterested to actively influencing Magical Britain on a political level likely will feel threatening to them.

"I may not know what they might have discussed but I do know that they are wary of you, especially since you are betrothed to Lady Slytherin, someone who they bear a significant antipathy towards which I believe will only increase once she joins the Wizengamot proper.

And there is the Traditionalist faction who will fight tooth and nail against you if you seek to bring into existence what you have espoused often enough in your words and deeds."

"And what makes you think the Traditionalists would be opposed to me?" Atticus asked curiously. There were many reasons why they would be opposed to Atticus in the future but as of now? He hadn't acted politically yet.

Spencer-Moon spoke with a pointed look "They will not suffer muggleborns and half bloods being given greater rights and opportunities equal to that of purebloods." Atticus sensed that he was repeating what he heard rather than it being a simple analysis.

Ah…if they truly thought that he was aiming to change the social structures of Magical Britain, he could see them aggressively oppose him on all fronts.

He'd turned away from genuinely committing to that as he had no desire to remain in Magical Britain even if he made the right noises.

Why would he make Magical Britain a permanently better place when he wanted people to leave with him?

He already planned on creating a powder keg when he'd complete compiling The Truth about The Returnees and the Lie of being Muggle Borne with Emily.

Ever since he'd told the muggleborns that were in his confidence back at Hogwarts, he'd wondered what to do with it.

Benedict had once warned him about the impact such findings could have, not only the magical world but also on the family itself. Now though, he had the safety he needed to protect the family against the backlash.

It would be the beginning of the change of perception they'd cause. That witches and wizards were different to muggles on a genetic level…a cousin branch to the more numerous mundane humans.

It would cause short term destabilisation which suited their plans but in the end it would allow for greater cohesion when people began to realise what it meant.

Emily wanted to use the reactivated magical lines for her purposes, to populate the Wizengamot with muggleborns that were, hopefully descendants from extinct Houses that had permanent seats within the Wizengamot.

If even two or three of the extinct lines were reactivated, it would change the balance of power within the Wizengamot, something that Emily was counting on to get around the problem of lack of influence over heads of Houses in her fledgling alliances.

With the natural allegiance that would come from these newly made noble witches and wizards, they would make the groundwork of elevating those loyal to them.

Eventually, slowly, they'd grab total control over Magical Britain once unrest was high and move the entire population of Magical Britain over to Illos but that was around the 1970s and the 80s when they'd use the possibility of nuclear war becoming more likely.

He had told Charlus he would give Magical Britain five years when he confessed his plans to leave to build a nation away from Britain but that had been a lie amidst a calculated albeit risky admission.

He was going to leave in five years' time when he'd tell the public – who would become accustomed to him being in the public eye along with his inventions and companies – that he worked hard to make their lives better but that the opposition he faced was too great and thus decided to no longer impose himself on the country.

With the speeches he'd make, the businesses that would marginalise swathes of Wizengamot families, the evidence he'd provide about muggleborns and family magic, all of that would make him a visceral enemy of the conservatives on both camps and would cheer his departure yet at the same time alienate the public.

Emily would remain behind but remain firmly neutral and seem at odds with him. By that time she should be able to be at the very least on the Board of Governors, an excuse she'd use as a reason to stay behind whilst in the background she'd continue what she did best.

But that was for another time.

What Spencer-Moon was no doubt referring to was that word has spread significantly during his time away from Britain and a significant number of muggleborns and half bloods had sounded out several of his employees for opportunities.

As agreed with Connor Freyrie, the Irish Minister of Magic, he'd set up several businesses in Magical Ireland that were focused on creating products that Atticus knew would become a success…one of them was the magical answer to television.

The recording crystals he'd created were the base of M-Vision, the name of his television. They'd work on a higher band of magical frequency, similar to how his Mirror Phones worked, ensuring that they would not accidentally interfere with radio signals and allow the muggles to glean in.

And that is where the many half bloods and muggleborns that Saunders had recruited in the last year were coming in.

A significant proportion of them were skilled enough in runes to replicate the runic schemes that fixed charms, which included the modified Protean charm, to the crystalline surface of the M-Vision, the M.V.

He already had several squibs, muggleborns half bloods and even some purebloods attending theatre schools in the U.S. who were keenly interested in pursuing a career in theatre and movies which would become a staple in Magical Society in no time.

Alongside with the Irish magicals, they've been working on mass producing thousands of M-Visions, M.V.'s, tens of thousands of Mirror-Phones and the second generation magical computer – one based on the simplistic computer he'd created to run the satellites that searched for specific deposits of metals that Alice helped him to improve dramatically.

These were the most eye catching products that would soon hit the market whilst others less impressive products like wizarding versions of board games like Monopoly or silly things like enchanted Slinkys were there for entertainment.

He was going to go the American route.

An eventual cultural victory.

There were other impressive things that were close to being complete, like the framework of a networked system that was entirely magical, based on the intangibility of sympathetic magic, but they were some years away.

Magicals were not needed to work in factories, it was in truth wasteful and utterly pointless when he already had the capabilities to set automated factories that only needed a few magicals at most to oversee the production process and quality check.

But it had a purpose, beyond economic reasons. This was the beginning of his magi-tech revolution – to give a platform for individuals who worked on these things to come up with their own ideas or their own execution of ideas.

Whilst they worked, they were granted admission to SIMS to further progress with their magical and scientific studies in return for a ten year working contract that bound them to his companies.

They'd also receive 30% of the profits for any successful ideas they might produce during this time

He had many ideas but little time to bring them into existence so these people would do it for him.

If…when…the pureblood nobility felt threatened by his businesses and complete domination over these new sectors in addition to the belief that he was aiming to empower who they believed were their lessers, he could see them banning much of these new advancements on a flimsy basis further increasing the tension between them and the public.

The problem was, he had no desire to ally himself with the Ministry and there was no immediate need to protect his businesses.

He'd already taken care of the legal basis two years ago when he'd received licenses to sell magical products of the rough description much of his magi-tech would fall under.

They were under the same protection the Hogwarts Express was in and they'd never ban a staple of the Hogwarts experience without being desperate.

When it came to dealing with the factions that were set against him, he'd trust himself, his family, his allies and Emily to navigate the pitfalls of politics over an alliance with a man he detested and knew not to be trustworthy.

Spencer-Moon must have realised this, on some level, when the silence dragged on causing him to continue on with a forced calm that didn't hide the uneven tone in his voice.

"This potential alliance of ours would be able to mitigate much of the problems you would face…your...faction combined with the seats of the Ministry would be able to compete with both the Traditionalist and Progressive factions and at the very least – with the aid of the Independents who I can easily bring to our side with some concessions – stymie them from passing or revoking any bills that do not align with your plans" Spencer-Moon said simply, his hands stapled firmly together into a collective mass of straining muscle.

"You will have this support of the Ministry itself to aid you in your plans, whatever they may be in return of your total support of my Ministership…and re-election"

It paused his thoughts before his mind whirled for, considering everything he'd heard, witnessed and sensed from the man.

Spencer-Moon was desperate and there had to be more to this ridiculous gambit than an alliance.

He knew that the public weren't impressed with Spencer-Moon and though he could trigger a vote of no confidence and likely succeed, this had the smell of something else.

There was an undertone in his words that made it clear that was a plea for more than just political support and it wasn't Atticus that was triggering it.

No one but a single person knew of his more…ruthless elements of dealing with problems outside the battlefield and he'd worked hard to make sure none could even think he was capable of it.

Spencer-Moon's reactions to him were proof enough that he didn't think Atticus a major threat to his life which was all the indications he was getting in this request of alliance.

He was tempted to use Legillimency or he could…

"You're afraid" Atticus said with eyes that bored into Spencer-Moon's soul, aglow with assessment and calculation. "Not of me…well, perhaps a little" His lips twisted into a mocking smile alight with amusement and mockery before he grew serious once more, the lines of his mouth smoothed out into a pristine canvas.

"But you are afraid of something else far more than you are afraid of me." He said in a musing tone, one that charged the air in the room with tenseness from the way Spencer-Moon reacted.

Atticus narrowed his eyes at the reaction "This is more than a simple alliance…you want the personal protection I offer"

Spencer-Moon flinched at that, proving it to be true though he remained silent for a moment too long.

He was tired of this meeting.

He glanced around as he breathed out slightly, his eyes once more seeing the threads, tendrils of magic that filled the room with greater clarity. He glanced at Spencer-Moon and saw his soul before he looked away, searching and analysing every inch of the room.

He saw little that concerned him for what he was going to do next, the panic button that was on the underside of desk by Spencer-Moon would matter little.

It seemed that he wanted this meeting to be as secretive as possible. A terrible decision on his part.

Whatever secrets he'd string out of Spencer-Moon would ensure his silence and if not, he'd be able to explain his way out. Fame and reverence had its privileges.

He couldn't obliviate Spencer-Moon, not without the Ministry being able to pick it up quickly after the measures they'd put in place since the Godric's Hollow attack.

Granted, normally Spencer-Moon would have little to be worried about as everyone was searched comprehensively before being admitted to this office but he didn't need any items or a wand to get the answers he wanted.

They may know of his wandless ability and the fact that he didn't carry a wand but they didn't know that he could effectively form his magic, in a way that they would be unable to determine since there would be no recognisable spell residue, to do as he bid…the closest approximation was controlled accidental magic.

Still…

It was risky…it could be nothing but his intuition rarely was wrong…he hoped this wouldn't break that streak.

His eyelids dropped halfway as he tilted his head sideways.

He turned to Spencer-Moon who made out to speak but Atticus spoke before he could.

"Speak" he voiced out, his word laced with magic, infused with a command in the very structure of the word he spoke.

Magic within the room rose, ever so steadily, and the air grew constricting as the pressure on Spencer-Moon grew.

Spencer-Moon's eyes looked panicked but he couldn't resist and soon enough began to speak of his meeting with Lords Black and Malfoy.

Atticus' expression grew grimmer. It had been unexpected to see Arcturus Black act and for him to do so in such a manner.

Spencer-Moon also told him of his secret that greatly surprised and disgusted him in equal measure and how Arcturus was using it to blackmail him.

As Spencer-Moon continued to speak, he spoke of Arcturus' firm grasp on the Traditionalist faction that reasserted the position of leadership and direction of House Black and that Spencer-Moon thought it was a move in anticipation of Atticus' rise to utmost prominence.

He agreed with that assessment though he didn't see the full picture of Lord Black's movement.

It was far too soon for anyone to know what he and Emily planned.

Spencer-Moon finished, sweat dripping from his forehead.

"Thank you for educating me, Minister" Atticus said calmly as the magic in the room receded though his anger was far from cooled.

"Wh-What did you do to me?" the Minister gasped as he looked at Atticus with fearful eyes, his knuckles bare white as he gripped tightly on the edges of his desk.

"Nothing really, I only asked you to speak" he said with a smile on his face, one that didn't reach his eyes.

Spencer-Moon's eyes widened "Y-You put me under the imperius" his hand travelled to the panic button.

"I wouldn't if I were you" Atticus said easily "I doubt you'd want people to know about your little secret" It stilled Spencer-Moon.

"W-What?" he stammered as his hand withdrew from the button.

"To say that I am surprised of your late night activities would be to understate it" he said conversationally though his eyes were stormy, the greens in his eyes danced turbulently as his fury rose like a raging storm that ebbed away from him with furious intensity.

"To think you could fall so low, Minister"

"You have no evidence" Spencer-Moon regained his composure as he forced out those words "I can have you arrested right now for doing what you did to me and no one would believe you of this accusation. Lord Black would be ecstatic to know that you were imprisoned" his attempts to regain control over the situation were pitiful.

Atticus laughed before he looked at Spencer-Moon with contemptuous eyes "You could never manage to pull that off. It would be far more likely that you would strung up and hung with your intestines by the public than I will ever have the luxury of seeing the insides of Azkaban when I haven't cast any spell on you" he leaned forward, his voice now little more than a furious whisper

"You offered me an alliance with only the intention to sell out any secrets you gleaned from me to Arcturus Black" Invisible tendrils of magic to leak out of his skin as he struggled to contain the wroth he felt in this moment.

"And to top it off, you would have switched sides as soon as it became politically expedient to Arcturus Black but then planned to lie. To. My. FACE." His face twisted in a furious scowl as his eyes burned with unhidden wrath.

Spencer-Moon withdrew in on himself, fear prominent in his expression.

"As you'd claim that Arcturus Black blackmailed you into betraying me all in an attempt to set us against each other…all so that he will have further use for you and wouldn't use the evidence he holds against you"

The bastard thought he could game the situation he found himself in to his advantage, hoping to leverage himself into a position whereby Arcturus Black would be forced to offer concessions that would allow Spencer-Moon out of the corner he was pushed into.

Atticus breathed out loudly, the heavy presence of his magic withdrew once more though it didn't stop Spencer-Moon from quaking in his seat.

He got up and adjusted the sleeves of his simple looking robes before pinning Spencer-Moon with a contemptuous look "You were mistaken to be more afraid of Arcturus Black than of me even if he had evidence of that disgusting habit of yours."

Atticus raised his hand slowly, methodologically twisting his hand around as his palm faced upward, a sickly green glowing hue began to surround his hand which caused Spencer-Moon to look as if he was going to faint.

It was an illusion of the real thing of course but Spencer-Moon, after all he'd done to the man likely wasn't in the state of mind to consider that.

"This is the last time you involve me and my family in anything…Is that understood" he said with a voice as soft as feathered pillows even though the implications were as clear as a dagger to a throat.

Spencer-Moon only stared at the sickly green glowing hand causing Atticus to sneer slightly and spoke again "Is that understood?" his voice was crackling, the furious undertones could not be ignored and the Minister nodded rapidly.

"Y-yes…" he said with a tremulous, shaky voice.

"Swear it" Atticus commanded, knowing that he had little leverage over Spencer-Moon. Any evidence that existed likely would have been destroyed by either the Minster or by the Black family by now.

He couldn't kill the man either, not now or later, no matter how much he wanted to kill the man for his evil predilections.

"I-I s-s-swear not to involve yourself or your family in any of my schemes!" The Minister managed to creak out, a binding glow surrounded him, his eyes wide at what he had just done.

Fear induced magical oaths without wands were not impossible to obtain without a little bit of help, not if they felt genuine regret and wanted to keep to it which Spencer-Moon would feel just to get out of the mess he made.

The glow of his hand receded "Do not worry, Minister" Atticus said in a hard tone "I will remain quiet on the…activities you love partaking in" he said with no small amount of disgust before he met Spencer-Moon's gaze who flinched under the weight of his stare. "That is, of course contingent that this meeting never happened?"

Spencer-Moon regained some of his earlier bravado "Yes." He said in a voice full of bitterness and fear. "This meeting never happened." He agreed before he added whilst looking at Atticus as with new realisation "You're just like him, aren't you?"

Atticus eyes' grew cold as his emotions deadened.

"This is the last time we meet, Minister…Any more ambushes will not be good for your health"

Spencer-Moon swallowed harshly but nodded tersely anyway.

He turned around but stopped though not looking over his shoulder as he spoke again "I expect to see nominations for First, Second and Third Order of Merlins soon." He began to walk away "I will send someone with a list" he said finally before opening the door that lead out of the office.

Atticus offered a smile to Ms Everline as he left and soon enough he was away from the damned Ministry and back at Sayre Manor.

As he walked the cobbled path towards the front of his door, having elected to take the long route, his mind was awhirl with the information he'd gotten.

He resisted the urge to chastise himself for acting so...blatant with Spencer-Moon and knew he should have handled it differently.

Yet…

The information he'd gotten was worth it in more ways than one.

To think Spencer-Moon was such a monster…

Those like him rarely were able to resist their urges and he'd soon enough provide him the evidence he'd need to bury the bastard in Azkaban.

He may even halt his plans to get rid of the soul sucking abominations just so that man is left catatonic during his time there.

Normally he knew that Spencer-Moon would not be persecuted for what he's done, it would 'only' scandalous and would forever taint his name but that didn't matter to Atticus and he would make sure they all knew that lest they invoke his wrath.

He sighed deeply as he let himself cool off.

It reminded him of what he'd need to do about certain elements of the Magical underground havens.

He shook his head, refocusing on what he learnt from Spencer-Moon

His face soured.

The fact that the man had the temerity to compare him to Grindelwald…

He was not like him, not at all.

Yet with what they planned on doing, was it any better?

No.

He couldn't get hung up on such thinking, not now. Not when he needed to think on the changing political landscape and the new players they would be contending with.

It seemed things would not be easy.

"Life rarely was" he sighed.

What he and Emily were doing and planning was part of the long game.

They had time.

It was a compromise reached by them as Emily wanted Magical Britain under her rule in whichever form it took and taking the entire population to Illos well ahead of the expected Exodus was good enough for them both.

It also helped that meeting Moira seemed to have affected her significantly making her more agreeable in certain ways.

House Black however could become a major thorn in their sides…

He grimaced "I need to speak with Benedict and mother" he muttered. They'd knew more about how House Black and importantly how Arcturus Black would react.

Benedict's wife, his great grandmother had been a Black so the man likely knew much about the family.

He wouldn't say it out loud but…

This new development worried him.

He should have seen it coming.

The Blacks were the political family for centuries now and his rise to prominence has made them put things into motion as an answer to him.

They likely knew nothing but…there was a chance they knew enough to feel the need to act like they'd done.

For a moment he regretted telling Charlus about his plans for the future. He suspected that Dorea likely knew by now what his eventual goals were and only a few words to her brother would make things more difficult than it needed to be.

It wasn't the first time he'd thought about that night.

Charlus was not an enemy but could easily turn into one if Charlus believed that he was gearing up for something like what Grindelwald did.

The last thing he'd needed was an enemy with the influence that Charlus had and would have. He couldn't simply kill him either, not without it having much greater ramifications.

And…if he could not win over someone he had earlier almost considered a friend of then what chance did he have with hundreds of thousands of magicals who were all different from each other in little but significant ways yet all could prove difficult to convince just the same?

It was a test of faith that perhaps he did not need to be underhanded in everything.

"Let's see…Charlus…Dorea…" he murmured softly as he got to the door of the Manor and clicked it open.

-Break-

6th of April 1943

Emily POV

The doors parted and she stepped through, her gaze immediately drawn to the sight before her.

It was dominating, its size unfathomable.

She stared at the black mass through a screen that tinted out all light but the most extreme ranges of ultraviolet light.

Golden tendrils rose from a broiling, churning sea of mass that seemed to reach and reach until being forced down by an invisible hand as it brightly collided with a point not far from where it rose yet she knew it was as far apart as at least several times the circumferential length of the Earth.

She'd been forced to…re-evaluate a great many things and never more so than her own place in this new reality she found herself in.

She had not completely believed the success of Atticus' ambitions of eventually moving to another world without muggles even as she'd looked upon the Earth with her eyes in orbit.

Illos, she believed, would be the pinnacle of their successes.

A city greater than Atlantis itself.

A city of magicals that she would rule with Atticus by her side.

Yet her eyes were truly opened to the possibilities on the day she met Moira and learnt of her people.

An entire galaxy was now open and…from what she learnt from Moira…from that machine and the records…

It was more terrifying and destructive than she could have ever imagined.

The fear she felt at the prospect of returning to muggle London during the height of the war, was amplified to untold proportions when she learnt that Moira's hundreds of thousands of years old civilisation spanning millions of worlds had lost a war against another species despite wielding weapons that could destroy entire worlds.

An enemy which may yet still exist that despises humanity and is so powerful that they can reduce an entire species, trillions in numbers into a mere handful of thousands and would devolve them out of spite to humiliate them even further…

Then there is the possible survival of a disease that can grow and grow as it consumes all life it encounters until it gains superintelligence, becoming an enemy that cannot be defeated without sacrificing almost everything as it seemed the defeaters of Ancient Humanity had to do to push the abominations back…

To be the greatest witch in all of existence was not enough.

To rule over the entirety of Britain and then the Magical World was not enough.

What did it matter if in the end they were destroyed by an enemy they were not prepared and strong enough to fight against?

It was the final blow to her outlook that all that mattered was their strength…their power.

Followers would not make a civilisation that could contend with those kinds of enemies.

It had to be more.

Greater.

They needed to craft a civilisation so great that could withstand endless enemies they'd face, a civilisation so long lasting that even Time itself would wither before they would.

She understood now clearer than ever that domination and fear would crumble whatever society they'd build under the merest pressure that was exerted, alien or otherwise…their reign over the magical world had to be built on stronger foundations…on unbreakable foundations, one that strove for individual and collective greatness.

And both she and Atticus would need to do their parts to enable this.

They needed to become exalted, revered, for their long terms plans to succeed and that meant she had to change.

Fear…fear would not be enough to succeed in all of their plans.

She could no longer be someone that people feared because of her strength, her power and did as she bid because of that fear…no…

She needed to become better…

Someone beyond them, someone they could have faith in.

So much so they would do as she bid not because of fear or duty but because they held undying loyalty to them.

It did not mean however that fear would not have its place in their plans.

They had many enemies amongst their own kind that would have to be dealt with.

Her near black eyes glistened like volcanic glass.

Fear would be wielded against their enemies like a sculpting knife with utmost precision and purpose, a song of undeniable futility echoing in their hearts and minds as she came for them like a wrathful god.

Their enemies would come to fear them and when they were down and beaten, looking up at her from where they were laid out, she'd give them a single opportunity to repent, one that they, and others would remember.

After all, …

Cruel gods were never cherished as much as merciful gods were.

She brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear as she stared at the broiling mass of superheated gas that made life possible.

Her mind went back to the vow she'd made to herself…back when not even the Magical World had offered an escape from the namelessness she'd been born into.

…a vow to dominate, to have the magical world revolve around her and kiss the helms of her robes to remind them that she was superior.

That she would stand above them all.

Alone.

Her eyes flickered to Atticus who sat on a bench right in front of the large view screen, staring at the Sun before she turned her gaze on the same sight once more.

The Sun's surface was rolling, flowing deceptively like a horizon-less ocean with gentle, swaying motions.

Yet…here she was in a vessel that sailed the void between worlds and stars, millions of miles away from both magical and muggle worlds …

And not alone…with someone who, in one single but fateful meeting, changed the course of her entire life and, with him, would change the entire course of their people to greater and grander heights…

How things changed from that day…that vow…

"It's done" she said calmly as she glided across the floor with fleeting steps towards Atticus. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes remaining on the Sun.

"And so ends the Legend of Grindelwald" he murmured with a kind of breathlessness that left her curious.

She sat beside him, her gaze once more on the darkened Sun. "It's a shame we won't see him drift towards the sun" she mused aloud "though I suppose we would not have seen much in the glare of the sun"

"I think it's poetic, in a way." He said quietly.

"That he disappears into the abyss alone and forgotten?" she asked as she turned to him.

He gave a small nod though said nothing more.

She stared at him for a moment, taking in his strange solemn attitude.

Her eyes narrowed slightly "You're brooding" she said flatly, her tone carrying hints of accusation and questioning.

He glanced at her for a brief moment, and she met his gaze with a raised eyebrow before he looked away and at the burning sight that was the Sun.

"I'm thinking about history" he said with a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "and just wondering about what will be written about the things we will do"

She remained quiet for a moment as she thought on where this was coming from. "You're concerned about being perceived like Grindelwald?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

When he'd come back from meeting the repulsive fool of a Minister, he'd told her all that he'd learnt from the man after forcing the man into speaking.

He'd also mentioned that the fool had compared him to Grindelwald which had angered him.

To think it was still bothering him…

"Not so much" he said as he turned to her with a frown on his face, as if he was looking at a complex puzzle that he couldn't quite figure out despite being close to doing it. "The opposite in fact is occupying my mind"

"Rather…" he trailed off for a moment before he continued "Rather that if we succeed, history will be written about us in a way that will never show the…ugliness of the things that were done to get there. They'll never know that the very bedrock that is underneath the foundation of Illos, is made out of depths and scales of manipulation that would horrify them all."

His chest deflated as he inaudibly sighed "History will paint us as different from Grindelwald when in actuality we are but the different side of the same coin…conquering the Magical World not through force but by manipulation, lies and influence." His eyes looked conflicted for a moment before he continued as a faraway expression came across his face, one that showed a level of unsureness she had not seen from him for some time.

"Our actions may save the Magical World and cause it to advance and rise to greater heights than ever thought possible but it does not hide the Truth that it is built on lies…that it all came down to two people who believed they had the right to…" he paused for a moment as his voice trailed to a level of quiet that was slightly above a whisper.

"…warp people's perceptions and their way of thinking to something they approve of." He looked almost lost as he said that. "and in the end…people will love us for it, not knowing that they were the product of years and then generations of slow manipulation shaped into a society we directed into existing."

She looked away from him, back at the Sun as she digested what he said.

She knew that he would not waver from the course they'd set even if she could hear the doubts in his words…

They both knew that they were on the precipice of no return…the last window of backing out there was for them but…

They would not be who they were if they were not the kinds of people who would continue on once a decision had been made.

They had declared their path long ago and nothing, not even themselves could prevent them from carrying out their plans.

Not now.

The fact he was speaking of history was proof enough.

This doubt was a result of the last threads of the deep morality he felt…the deep morality that held him back.

Threads that would snap, not by her hands but by his own drive to succeed.

"What does it even matter really?" she said after a while. She could feel his eyes on her.

"When it comes to influencing people…is it any different than how anyone is taught? What we are taught by parents or teachers who all have their own versions of truth of what they say and teach." She tapped her finger on the bench for a few seconds.

"What we are doing is perhaps purposeful but it is not malicious" she said with a slowly creeping upturn of her lips before she lost it, a serious expression draping her face.

"Truth is based on perspective and on what fits in man's web of beliefs. That is all what truth is, no more no less. The truth as we know it, the lies that would enable the creation of Illos are irrelevant." She leaned back slightly as she set her arms behind her, her gazed fixed on a particular sun spike.

"What does it matter if the truth we know as it is does not correspond with the truth all others know it as in the future? What does it matter if history a thousand years from now will not show or tell about the rivers of blood and the systematic manipulation of generations it took to create the greatest civilisation in the Galaxy?" she turned to him, her eyes filled with fiery determination.

"They will know that it is because of us we are free from persecution and destruction by the hands of muggles. They will know that it is because of us there is no such thing as mudbloods or half bloods or purebloods. They will know because of us that the entire Magical World is at peace and in harmony on worlds filled with magic and magical beings." Her lips drew to a thin nearly unidentifiable line.

"They will know because of what we have created and promoted that there are policies, education and culture would leave even the wealthiest noble of today rife with jealously, a world filled with untold advanced magicks and technologies that leaves all magical life fulfilled with a level of richness never seen, heard or witnessed before." Her eyes drooped as she stared at him with a level of intensity that would make even the hardiest of men tense up under her gaze.

"That will be their Truth and it is the only truth that matters. Objective Truth does not exist, Atticus and you know this." She said with a tilt of the head.

"It is better than the wars that would have to be fought in order to ensure our people's survival" she added a little more quietly "If lies and manipulation are needed to ensure it, so be it" To her it mattered little.

In the end, the vast majority of their kind would be better off than they would have ever been otherwise.

A long moment of silence reigned between them before Atticus smiled, one that was more accepting than it was happy.

He nodded "I hear you." He said in a soft tone before he turned away from her. "I know it is the right path to take…the one that leaves the least amount of death, that waste as little as possible magical blood..." he trailed off for a moment before he drew himself up, visibly steeling himself before he turned his gaze at her, the familiar passionate emerald fires that danced in a sea of purple returned and struck at her.

"In the end, it does not matter what the bedrock on which the foundation is built upon is" his eyes began to glow, brightly like two spiralling galaxies and the greens in his eyes flashed like evanescent supernovas "not when the foundation will be pristine, not if it enables the Magical World to survive and importantly thrive for ten thousand years and more."

She smiled at that, her eyes sparkling with agreement.

She knew that they would both do unspeakable things to ensure their plans succeeded.

It was the burden of those like them.

They held power to change the world.

Others like Grindelwald sought to rule over what was left of the Magical and Muggle Worlds with an iron fist.

Those like Dumbledore sought to change the world to how they thought it should be.

She and Atticus would instead build the world they envisioned just as they would build the very people who would become the foundation of The Magical World.

No more…no less.

-Break-

Eden MacMillan POV

8th of April 1943

LORD ATTICUS SAYRE DEFEATER OF GRINDELWALD URGES LASTING PEACE AND RECONCILLIATION

By: Hubbert Higgins

Lord Sayre continues to make a tradition of ensuring memorable Wizengamot sessions as he spoke passionately about it being time to strive for lasting peace and asked for there to be a genuine attempt at reconciliation throughout all of Europe.

In only his second session in the Wizengamot since his famous call to duty speech on the same day he was sworn into his family's seat, he responded with vehement disagreement to Lord Cornfoot's petition to the Wizengamot to claim recompense from the German and Austrian Ministries for the damages suffered in the attack of Godric's Hollow last year, who had secretly aided Grindelwald's rise to power years before the coups in the middle of the 1930s.

This comes after the ICW has been reportedly seen to take a hard stance with both nations that many in Europe see as complicit in the tens of thousands of deaths and near destruction of the Statute of Secrecy.

Many nations such as Magical Russia, Hungary and more have made their voices heard as to what penalties collaborators should suffer and their demands just fall short of total dissolution of their states, though in practicality they would become little more than a territory of the ICW instead, along with the total and complete confiscation of their lands and wealth.

Lord Sayre however did not agree with Lord Cornfoot's petition or with the demands against Germany and Austria.

"Many of you cheer Lord Cornfoot's petition, that we rightly are owed recompense for the deaths and suffering we have been made to bear.

I know plenty of the cost we have paid at the cowardly attack that took over a hundred lives in Godric's Hollow yet I cannot agree with his assertions that we are owed by the people of Germany and Austria." This caused naturally many within the Wizengamot to protest until Lord Sayre was asked why he thought that way.

Lord Sayre said in response "The ones that planned and aided the attack on Godric's Hollow are guilty, that is undeniable. They are the same people who allowed Grindelwald to rise as fast as he did, helping him gather as many followers as possible by threatening and coercing entire peoples in supporting him.

They should be found and punished accordingly. However…

It is short sighted to subject entire nations to the faults of a few and none more so than those who had been forced to join Grindelwald under the threat of having their entire families slaughtered, their families reduced to little more than a footnote in history just as so many others have been made into in this dark chapter of Magical History

Who here can stand and say they would resist and fight when their child held captive by the same people who rendered entire family lines extinct without a single shred of remorse and with utmost dishonour?" Lord Sayre asked of the Wizengamot which quieted down severely, so silent was the hall that one could hear a pin drop. One Wizengamot member asked what he expected then to be done.

Lord Sayre responded:

"It is a simple matter of discovering who was complicit and willing and who was not. I can only ask the ICW to heed this and to question fairly and justly so that those who are guilty pay for their crimes and those who are innocent do not."

Jeers and outrage had erupted within the chambers of the Wizengamot and Chief Warlock Gore had to repeatedly silence the Wizengamot before Lord Sayre continued

"I am not asking for absolution – no man who contributed to the horrors that I have seen in the bases of Belgium, of Switzerland deserve such absolution, far from it. Such evil cannot be permitted to exist freely within Magical Society.

But what I am asking for is a genuine attempt at reconciliation and peace.

We are a Proud and Noble race who can carry slights and anger for generations.

Who among you Lords is willing to suffer another war because we were heavy handed to those who were deceived into following a madman?"

Heated discussions continued within the Wizengamot as Lord Sayre's statements proved to be as …

"Well he's gotten better" Theodore Pyrites said with wide eyes as he looked up from the paper she'd read earlier in the morning. "Not quite as bombastic and explosive as his first speech in the Wizengamot but definitely better"

They were all sat at the Ravenclaw Table in what seemed to be another morning where everyone was occupied reading and discussion the same paper.

Markus Rowle flicked a bean at Theo "I'm sure he'll be glad to hear you say that when we're at the wedding in a few months."

Theo ducked underneath the bean "Can't believe it'll be the first time we'll see him in over a year! And that is he is getting married!"

"To her of all people" Markus muttered a little quietly but they all heard.

"Are you not grateful she saved us all from the big bad Dumbledore" Theo asked in mock outrage though she could see that there was a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Professor Dumbledore never had any intent to cause them harm, only her but the papers made it seem like she saved them all. Headmaster Dippet saved them – and her – from the oddly behaving Professor not her.

Eden pressed her lips together at the reminder. That was odd, the way all of that happened. To think that Professor Dumbledore behaved like that. She didn't really believe that he was a secret Dark Lord, her father made sure she understood that.

More that it was a personal vendetta by the Slytherin girl and that Professor Dumbledore was set up like many other Progressives thought what happened.

It did not really matter though as everyone else seemed to hate him. The muggleborns for the thefts Professor Dumbledore was accused of doing and the purebloods for the fact that he was in league with Grindelwald…that he was more with Grindelwald.

"So you have all received invitations?" Nymera asked with concern, changing the subject.

"Not personally" Eden responded.

"Yes my parents were invited to Sayre Manor where he gave them invitations personally. Mother said that he said he was looking forward to seeing me again"

"So did my mother" Theo said with an easy smile "Though he probably actually meant it when he said that to my mother."

Markus narrowed his eyes at the slight but before he fired back Eden spoke up "It's a bit strange to invite Heads of Houses just so you can give out wedding invitations."

"Ah" Theo waggled his finger "But you know that Atticus never did things the traditional way" Theo crossed his arms "I remember when he added pistachios to desert" he shook his head dramatically. "I mean…that just tells you enough about the ridiculousness he sometimes comes up with."

She looked at him with a bemused expression as Markus began to speak, intently ignoring what Theo just said "You girls got your invitations yet?"

"Not yet" Eden admitted. She couldn't deny that she was a little hurt by that.

"It could just be that your family is almost of a similar stature as the Sayres" Markus tilted his head curiously. "It could just be that you'll be among the last because of it…as a way to honour your family. As far as I know no Most Ancient and Most Noble House has yet been invited" he shrugged his shoulders.

It was a good point. "There is still quite a bit of time to go yet" she said finally before glancing at Nymera.

She wore the same tired worried expression ever since news of Atticus' defeat of Grindelwald spread to the world. She'd clammed up every time anyone asked her what was wrong and at times Eden wondered if the rumours of her family's deep allegiance to Grindelwald were more than true.

She'd known that the Greengrasses were silent supporters but sometimes the way Nymera had changed ever since the beginning of their final year at Hogwarts had her really concerned that there was more to it.

"Your father hasn't yet been invited to Sayre Manor has he?" Markus asked Nymera.

"No" she said in a hesitant tone "Not yet I don't think." She hesitated for a moment as she glanced at the paper.

"Do you think he means it?" Nymera asked with concerned eyes. "About peace and reconciliation?"

Eden looked at Nymera for a moment but before she could speak up Theo answered "Who knows" he shrugged with a serious frown, an expression that ill suited the jokester "I'm not sure if he's still the same boy we befriended."

It was something that seemed to get under Nymera's skin…a reaction that often happened when Atticus was discussed. Though none of them had ever discussed it out around Nymera, the rest of them had and they all thought that she must feel ashamed for her family to have financially aided Grindelwald.

It likely wasn't easy on her and they did their best to distract her away from the war.

He hesitated for a moment before he continued "A lot has changed since he left Hogwarts." He said in a sombre tone.

It was true…

Atticus' father had been brutally killed, his mother nearly died, he'd gone to war, practically liberating entire countries with only a few hundred men until he defeated a Dark Lord all by himself.

He was a hero unlike anyone she'd ever heard about.

Except for the obvious hero to all Magicals.

And wasn't that odd?

He was no longer just their prodigious friend though Eden hardly thought he'd ever been just that.

She sighed as she looked at the paper that captured Atticus in a rather great image.

She once hoped that maybe there could be something there between them but that never manifested.

"We should go see him in the Summer" Eden declared.

"I'm in" Theo said with a shrug but she could see the interest in his eyes "No doubt he's forgotten how to joke and laugh though…" Theo mock frowned.

"Don't worry, he'll do that soon enough as soon as you speak and say anything" Markus had helpfully as he patted Theo's back much to her amusement.

Theo glared balefully "Ha. Ha." He said as he shrugged off Markus' hand and they began to argue amongst themselves.

Whilst she wanted to see her friend, she also wanted to find out about SIMS.

Her father had said it was a political gimmick, that no one would want to go there once the novelty wore out in a year's time but if there was anything she knew about Atticus, is that he took education seriously.

SIMS probably was amazing and she wanted to go there if it was anything like she thought it might be.

-Break-

10th of April 1943

"Great work Tweenie" he said with a happy smile as he turned his gaze away from the report.

Tweenie beamed proudly, his small figure was firmly at attention with his hands behind his back as he struggled to contain his happiness at the praise.

"The elves all did their duty, Master, it wasn't just Tweenie himself" the elf said humbly.

Atticus got up from his seat and walked around the desk and perched down on one knee, his face level with Tweenie's as he placed his hand on the elf's shoulder.

"I know that" Atticus offered a gentle genuine smile "But I also know that you made sure of it as I knew you would." He said kindly and that was enough for the elf to begin to tear up and jump him, startling Atticus in the process.

"Master Atty is so good to Tweenie, to all Elves" the elf cried out as he hung fiercely onto Atticus.

He tapped the back of the elf awkwardly "There there, Tweenie" he said with an uncomfortable tone.

He'd hoped the elf would have grown out of the infantile way his species were like if they were more educated and allowed to pursue more than just serving Magicals but it seemed like a few years wouldn't be enough to break even the best of elves out of this habit.

Tweenie suddenly jumped away and bowed his head "Apologies Master, Tweenie forgot himself" he said in a sniffing tone.

"Raise your head, Tweenie, it's alright" he reassured the elf. Tweenie raised his head and stared at him with tear stricken eyes that seemed to almost burst with the depth of emotion he felt.

Tweenie wiped at his eyes with his hand and Atticus expression darkened at the reminder of the injury he'd gotten in the service of his family. Tweenie had lost a finger during the attack at Provydetsi home that couldn't be mended.

Tweenie stopped wiping at his eyes and Atticus' dark expression fell away as elf and human met each other's gaze.

"You may go now Tweenie" he said with a small smile "Please inform all elves involved they may take a day's break." His lips began to twitch "I'm sure you have much to catch up on with Evesie" he said in a coy tone.

Tweenie's cheeks burned dark green as he shyly looked away from Atticus "Not today. Evesie busy painting"

Atticus smiled widely at that and his companion's reaction "Ah…" he said understandingly "Yes, it's probably best not to disturb your lady friend in times like this. I know from experience" Atticus said in what he hoped to be in a sage tone.

Tweenie looked at him with a surprised expression "Mistress also throw paint at you?"

"Is that what Evesie did to you?" Atticus couldn't help but let mirth enter his voice.

Tweenie shuffled his feet "Miss Evesie did not like me seeing her painting before being finished" he looked at Atticus with conspiratorially eyes "Tweenie thinks that Miss Evesie is too shy about her paintings" his eyes lit up "but Tweenie thinks anything Miss Evesie does is good!" he said vehemently.

Atticus smiled "What does she paint?" he asked genuinely curious. His elves had taken some time to get used to having the freedom to pursue any kind of hobbies but eventually they took to it vigorously.

Some liked learning new languages, the more obscure the better, a remnant when he'd gotten them to learn different languages for their spying duties, whilst others enjoyed things more standard things like knitting or gardening.

To hear one of the elves taking up painting was a balm to his soul.

He saw Tweenie struggle with the decision to out his little lady friend's secrets and Atticus was about to reassure Tweenie and to forget about it but Tweenie spoke up before he could "She paints mountains, all kinds of mountains, sometimes she paints dirty laundry the size of mountains! It's really good!" the elf nodded confidently.

Atticus' eyes were alight with happy mirth and nodded "I will have to see it at some point, Tweenie." He paused for a moment "If she wants to show it of course."

Tweenie beamed at Atticus before he realised something and looked a little panicked "Miss Evesie will be angry at Tweenie for telling Master her secret"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, I promise" he reassured the elf as he got up.

"Thank you Master" Tweenie said relieved before he bowed and popped away.

Atticus stared for a moment at the spot where Tweenie had been.

What would they be like if they were allowed to be more than just servants?

To be beings with all the rights afforded to humans?

Many purebloods believed they were lesser beings, little better than cattle but he did not agree to such idiocy.

They were smarter than people realised, their ability to grasp onto languages and runes was answer enough.

There was a purity to their species that he was hard pressed to see in any other sentient race.

He really needed to read the books from Atlantis to see what they actually did to create the species…if they created the elves.

Maybe he'd find a solution to their enslavement and break them free of it. It was the least he could do for them…for Tweenie.

To give them a choice that many of them never had and never would even think to have it. He also knew that to break the conditioning of centuries would take years if not decades.

Atticus' smile evaporated as a worn expression fell upon his face when he glanced at the report for a brief moment. He flicked his fingers and the report floated towards him.

The wardstones were all planted in their designated places, calculated with Arithmancy. It was what he and Rowena were working on during his last year at Hogwarts.

They discovered the full extent of all the leylines that crisscrossed the world through the leylines that ran beneath Hogwarts.

There were 144 wardstones buried at least hundred metres deep in their designated locations that were at the intersection point of at least two leylines and pleasingly to the eyes, it was all arrayed in a geometric pattern that left no gaps.

It had been difficult to find locations where there weren't any magical settlements and he had to readjust his calculations several times and settle for lesser leylines and intersection points that were deep underwater. His elves thankfully were creative enough and he'd made them the necessary equipment to complete their work. It was worth it.

They were sympathetically linked to receivers in satellites in geosynchronous orbit whose sole purpose was to use the wardstones as a coordinate system and relay those coordinates.

A coordinate system that would pinpoint the low slow burst of magic from children.

Atticus went into his pocket and brought out a crystalline stone that took all of the space in his palm. He pressed his finger of his free hand on the centre of the stone before he took his hand away from stone and it remained aloft in the air as it began to glow, soon after a bubble formed around it that showed the familiar image.

The beautiful white clouds that couldn't hide the distinctive sight of Earth.

What he made was an expansion on the Hogwarts Book of Admissions that Rowena made that could seek out and invite students to Hogwarts to a global level.

The leylines that run underneath Hogwarts covered all of the British Isles and a large portion of the North Sea and as such, it could only allow Rowena to record the burst of magic of eleven or almost eleven year olds hitting their second magical maturity in the British Isles – which he also included in his network thanks to Rowena's help.

It would record their locations and names in the book of Admissions.

Leylines were constant, they did not flow though they could be redirected in some form but they were akin to spider webs.

He stared at the globe for a few moments.

Like spider webs, when something is caught on the web, it affects the entirety of the network and it instantly travels through the leylines. His system worked on the same principle as the Book of Admissions did…it caught the burst and located the place and name of whomever affected the web in the frequency range of what is typically associated with the first magical maturity around seven or so years of age.

The first magical maturity primed the magical core whilst the second maturity stabilised the magical core. This also meant that the magical frequency of children until nine to eleven years of age was at the ceiling of the higher limits of frequency band in which wizarding magic operated in before it settled down in the normal range.

There was no reason why the enchantment could not capture these bursts of magical maturity given that you only had to adjust for it which he had done.

Age eleven was practical for wanded magical class as the magical core was stabilised after the second maturity.

The problem was that magical children located at the fringes of any magical society slipped through the various nets of magical detection that were arrayed around the world.

Just like he thought the Norwegians might not have detected the attack against Grindelwald on that volcano because it was far from any civilisation, magical or otherwise, he was certain that were many magical children that were never picked up by any Ministry or agency.

Currently it was baseless, his assumption that many of these children did not live to adulthood but he had this nagging feeling that he wasn't wrong…the disturbed feeling he felt so long ago when he'd heard about that family in Sudan came to mind.

A red light flittered on somewhere around the Himalayas.

"Alice" Atticus intoned softly to the silver armband that he wore and the AI came to life. Her black locks flowed beautifully and seamlessly as she looked at him with those distinct familiar eyes that were completely purple without green flecks.

Alice turned around towards the globe "I see the system is online" she mused curiously.

"Can you connect to it?" he asked of her.

She glanced back at him and nodded before her eyes closed. Within the Stone there was a small crystalline computer that was basic in function, working only on binary code and stored only the coordinates, name of the location and of course the name of the individual.

"Bhavaroopa Bitsa" Alice finally said after a moment "She lives in an isolated village in northwestern Nepal"

He frowned for a moment. "Don't we have any elves in the region?"

Alice nodded "We have several in India who are marking down hunting grounds of several magical creatures. They would be able to investigate within a few hours"

He nodded. "Have them investigate and use Moira's satellites"

Once the elves had completed the carving the runic schemes on the golems, he'd set a third of them to begin locating magical species where they'd had last been noted.

India was a place which had many magical species, many of them either avifauna or serpentine.

The subcontinent did not have any magical reserves and instead protected their natural habitats from muggles and poachers which was something he respected but eventually he'd be moving all of them to Illos.

At first only a small population to sustain at Illos and then all by the time of Exodus or when their habitats were being destroyed…whichever came first.

"Keep me posted on what they report and inform them they are allowed to interfere if the life of the child is at risk" he said finally.

Alice nodded. "And in the future?" she tilted her head questioningly "There will be children in places that we may not have any elves nearby"

"We can use Moira's satellites to hone in on them." He paused for a moment before he looked up at her "Do you have the processing power to split your attentions enough to monitor these children?"

"I do" Alice confirmed "I can set the necessary parameters that will minimise my overall reduced performance"

He nodded "Let me have a chance to review the parameters, I want to make sure that we capture enough scenarios to prevent any missed indicators to their health and their lives"

She nodded before she blinked away back to the hub in The Facility.

Atticus stared once more at the globe as he thought on what he'd be doing. He knew roughly what areas of the globe fell under the purview of the local Ministries…and which areas were practically unmonitored.

In many parts of the world, muggleborn children were taken from their parents and their existence erased from the muggle world. It was only in most of Europe and in MACUSA that muggles – even though they were realistically squib-born – were allowed to keep their children and brought in to the secret of magic.

He had a choice…one that he was vacillating on.

He could take the difficult choice…to depend on the love of parents to accept their child and see where the coin falls or…

Several lights dotted the globe once more and he closed his eyes for a moment.

Or he could do something unspeakable to those families and the children, denying them all choices.

Choices that he, someone who firmly believed in the right of free choice…of free will, would deny them.

The hypocrisy was laughable. It wasn't the first time he was hypocritical but it was perhaps the most jarring instance.

He was already infringing on the right of choice with the plans he had with Emily regarding the schools and orphanages but this?

He walked towards his seat and slumped into it, eying the large stone that he was gripping tightly on.

But what could he do?

Muggleborns were killed in Eastern Europe, if not parents and villagers then certainly by Eastern European Ministries. The rare few that live to adulthood are rarely allowed to be taught anything more than fifth year course material.

He scoffed.

Was it any wonder that those countries tended to have the highest number of muggleborn Dark Lords which they used as an example as to why muggleborns were scourges to be rid of?

The small amount of information he had on the rest of the world suggested that it was rare that muggleborns were found outside of developed countries which incidentally would also have the most organised Ministries.

He knew it to be false…Human migration has happened for tens of thousands of years and magicals were around since the very beginning, or at least near enough to it, of the forced devolution of humanity.

Squibs, though considered a much more recent problem – even if he was sceptical of that – likely happened throughout the ages.

Moira had said that Atlantis was by far the greatest concentration of humans for thousands of years, numbering around forty thousand magicals at its peak in an era where the total human population was less than one million.

Four percent of the entire population of the human genus!

His current estimate of magical humans was about 0.1%.

She wasn't sure if Atlantis had housed 100% of all magical humans but it likely was very close.

Most of those people had died during the catastrophe that fell upon it but enough survived to disperse across the globe giving rise to the current magical population that were native to lands across the globe, as far south as Australia to the cold lands of the Arctic Circle where there were a few Sami magical tribes.

That meant these survivors had to have eventually intermingled thousands of years earlier with homo sapiens for the ancient civilisations to have risen with magicals in their midst.

So even in the most remote populations of humans, there were likely some tribes that had dormant magical genes – he really needed to come up with a better name than that to describe the tangible genetic sequences – that were only waiting for chance to happen.

The chance of two squibs with the right genetic codes meeting and procreating to produce a magical child.

He glanced away from the crystalline stone and into the distance.

It was odd, in truth. Moira had observed – at times he felt like she was running a long anthropology study…which probably is true – that magic could only manifest itself when at least three identified DNA segments were complete and carried the right instructions and activated genes.

At that point, not even Moira or the entire sum of her people's knowledge was enough to explain what happened next. According to her, her people had done experiments on the DNA of their more gifted members and they couldn't manipulate those key markers with any success.

Biology was only one element that was necessary for magic to manifest itself. Magic went beyond mere biology.

It was funny in a certain light…that Moira's people didn't understand Neurophysical Energy beyond a certain scope outside of science and biology yet his people had a greater understanding on a metaphysical and universal way – the notion of the Trinity came to mind.

What wonders could his people do when they combined both trees of development, he mused.

He shook away that thought and gazed back at the crystalline stone.

With the astronomical rise of muggle populations in the next century that meant those chances would become far more frequent – which brought its own issues in relation to the viability of the Statute of Secrecy and technological progress of the muggles.

The population Muggleborns and half bloods will far outpace the population of purebloods in this century. It was already happening in Magical Britain where the population of muggleborns was a higher percentage than any other time in the last thousand years.

It also meant that magicals born in the muggle world to unaware squib-descendants were going to be high, including in those unmonitored regions.

His door opened and he looked up.

"Ah. Here you are" his mother said with a strange expression on her face that confused him for a moment until he realised why.

"I…I thought it was time" he said quietly to his mother who strode forward and sat in a chair opposite him.

She nodded sadly "It was." She looked away from him and her eyes trailed across the room. "Markus would have chastised you for not using the Lord's office the moment you were affirmed in the Wizengamot" she said with a saddened smile.

They fell silent for a moment, comfortable in the presence of each other, of parent and child.

"What are your thoughts on what other ministries do around the world with regards to muggleborns?" Atticus broke the silence after a while.

She met his gaze with a curious lilt of her head "What do you mean?"

"I mean in terms of the ministries that take magical children from their parents, wiping out the memories of the parents and their presence in the muggle world" he expanded.

She furrowed her brow for a moment as she thought on it "I think it's probably the best solution to a difficult problem if it is done right" she said after a moment.

"I'm surprised to hear you say that as a parent yourself" he commented without judgement "I would have thought the idea of someone taking your children would be horrifying to you."

Anne shook her head "Even though they are only muggles, It is horrifying to me." She sighed as she paused for a brief second, seemingly gathering her thoughts. "I can't imagine losing you or Sophia and not even remember it." She said in a disturbed voice before she visibly gathered herself.

"But…it is better for these children to be with their own kind than they should be with people who don't understand them and could even fear them.

Even when they do cherish them, hardly ever any muggleborn remains in touch with their families here in Britain and these muggles are the more tolerant" she said with a pointed look "The stories my family used to tell me about the muggles in my family's ancestral lands in the Balkans make that very clear"

She looked at him curiously "What brought this on? Is it about the orphanage?" she questioned him.

She was referring to the magical orphanage that Emily was funding. It now had everything it needed in preparation for the summer. Quite a few Hogwarts students had asked for a placement there…many of them weren't orphans either.

It was a large plot of land and could easily house two to three thousand students and they were now looking into taking in orphans from mainland Europe that lost all of their close relatives in the war.

He shook his head "No…" he sighed and began to explain what he was doing.

She remained in quiet contemplation after he'd finished for a little while.

"You should speak with your Aunt Viola." She said finally and he understood what she meant.

Before she became the Head of Education in MACUSA, she used to assess the homes of muggleborns to determine whether or not the family would accept magic and if not, the children would be placed into foster homes with the parents and others memory charmed.

"It's a huge undertaking though" he said with a grimace.

She shook her head with a saddened smile on her face "It is but you're also not thinking of the consequences. MACUSA has a tried system that benefits everyone including the children themselves. Many of them may be attached to their parents but as they age and grow up in an loving and safe environment, they come to realise the faults of their parents on their own." She looked at him with a frown.

"If you take these children from their parents without just cause, they will resent you for it" she quirked her eyebrow "And I doubt you want highly trained wizards and witches with a grudge against you"

He grimaced.

He did think about that. Other than his annoyance at his hypocrisy and his sense of morality, it was what was stilling his hand.

He'd have to memory charm the children as well for this not to have disastrous consequences.

It was a boundary he was not willing to cross…

No…memory charming the children was out of the question.

He would not commit that evil.

Yet…He truly wanted these children learning in Illos for more than just to offer them the best the world could offer.

They would become the backbone of his society, the first ones that would be raised in the culture and societal norms that he wished would take root within Illos.

But…

It mattered what foundation Illos was built on.

He remembered reading once about The Stolen Generation, the aboriginal children that were removed from their families in Australia for over a century.

The effects such actions had on these children and their descendants had still been felt in the 21st century. Disconnected from both societies and cultures, high levels of stress and mental conditions…and it was passed on from one generation to another.

Intergenerational Trauma.

Would he be inflicting Illos with those kinds of traumas if he did the same?

Would he be building a tainted Illos with deep cracks within the foundation made from trauma and pain?

Of course there were nuances there…as there ever was. These were children with skin colour, facial features and so on amidst a people who looked different from them and treated many of them in deplorable ways.

Something that he would not ever allow.

It was of little comfort, his supposed firm stance on ensuring that children of different blood statuses and skin colour wouldn't face discrimination or feel different in Illos.

Not when the ideas and the subsequent hard choices he'd have to make to deal with the complex problems occupied his mind…

How was he going to balance all of this social engineering with even a shred of his morality intact?

There was little doubt that what he and Emily intended with children was to condition them into a different mindset, way of thinking and morality that was different to current Magical Society.

Those raised in Illos would be the backbone of a new culture and society that he was creating, shaping it and enrichening it as denizens added to it.

Those in the orphanage Emily was building and the children that would be enrolled in the pre Hogwarts schools would be primed to be open to a wide variety of ideas and knowledge that should make them far more accepting of Illos and what it will stand for.

Yet…those children taken in those circumstances to Illos would never really be of Illos. It would not be home to them and they wouldn't embrace it.

And that was the mild potential consequence of what his actions could yield.

The truth was, should he rip them away from their parents…as his mother said without just cause and acceptance of the child…it would yield a result that he far from willing to suffer.

An unstable society was intolerable.

These children already had a foundation and were not blank slates even at such a young age.

He remembered all too well this fact from his previous life. He'd already been set on his course by the time he was five or six years of age after the abuse he'd suffered.

He did not doubt that happier and loved children would also have a foundation that would prove to stick with them for the rest of their lives.

He turned to his mother. He already knew the effects that love could have on a child and the differences it made to him was startling.

He knew what he'd do if it had been ripped away from him.

He smiled warmly at her "Thank you" he said, thanking her more than the advice she'd given.

"I know what to do now."

She nodded kindly at him "Good." She got up from her seat "Now, it is time for you to come down and help prepare for the wedding" she said with a pointed look.

He sighed "Alright." He said in a morose tone as he got up.

"Don't be so glum." His mother said in a tone that was annoyingly indicative that she was pleasantly amused. "There is much to do in such a small amount of time"

He glanced at her and saw her judgemental expression. She wasn't all that pleased they'd decided to marry this summer without any input from her.

He tried to blame Emily – her shock betrayed expression was priceless – but his mother wasn't having it.

It seemed to backfire a little on him, much to Emily's satisfaction and his mother forced him to participate in the painfully minutia of organising a wedding befitting their station.

Benedict was suspiciously absent during those sit downs.

Shotgun weddings weren't a thing yet but he was seriously contemplating convincing Emily to agree to it.

Surely she was just as tired of it as he was?

They'd only been back just over a week and they'd had eight meetings about it already!

"What are we discussing this time?" he said with a depressed tone as he got to the door where his mother was waiting.

She snaked her arm around his in a forceful manner and he began to escort her down the hall towards the sitting room by the garden, the de facto wedding planning quarters.

She hummed beautifully "We're discussing the effects of the wedding invitation letter." Her eyes lit up in excitement.

"I'm off the opinion that we should using elegant cursive text that flies off the letter and returns back to it after hanging in the air for a little while." She said with a happy expression. "It's simple and minimalistic"

'It would be simple and minimalistic if it was just ink on a piece of parchment'

Of course he didn't voice this as he continued to smile at his mother as she continued to rattle about the design of the envelope and what she thought they needed.

'Only a few more months' he sounded out in his mind repeatedly as they descended down the stairs whilst the other part continued to obsess on what he'd have to do in the next few weeks.

A couple of weeks later he arrived at the head office of his shipping company in Exeter, Endrian Shipping Company. They had the necessary legal approvals and licences to ferry goods now which they had begun by importing essential goods from India as part of the British Merchant Navy.

Emily had completed the memory crystals – devices that would be able to hold knowledge lifted from the minds off muggles – and as such he had a wide array of knowledge from muggles that many of his employees were now utilising to great effect.

What Emily did to improve his initial designs was to refine the capabilities of the device to the point that it could parse out the irrelevant memory and emotional threads that connected with the useful knowledge.

It was a neat thing she's done though she was already having Alice look at it to see if a remote way of taking knowledge was feasible.

As he walked through the building, he saw familiar and unfamiliar faces. Many of these were squibs though there were a sizable bunch of muggleborns of an older generation who were far more entrenched in the muggle world than the magical.

Finally, he arrived at the board room and saw Derek and Saundra there with a number of senior members of his companies.

After the customary greetings, they began earnestly and begun their reports of the health and statuses of the companies that they were currently representing.

Anchor Manufacturing ltd

Endrian Shipping Company ltd

And

Tillsdale, a law firm that operated in both the muggle and magical world.

Prior to the war, the manufacturing company previously had been a middling company that contracts with several automotive companies to produce components and sub-assemblies which was something they continued doing for the war effort except for trucks and tanks. Since they'd taken over the company, they've massively expanded it at relative great expense and was now capable of producing aircraft engines and tank engines.

The majority of the staff were muggles but the senior personnel and management were all squibs or muggleborn.

Tillsdale was the law firm headed by Myland Tillsdale, who was from a minor pureblood family, only two hundred years or so pure and wasn't fanatical about purism. He didn't care about blood status as long as he got his own company as he'd never had the influence or the capital to be anything more than free lance or work for the ministry.

He'd seeded the man's law firm and awarded him lucrative contracts in return for prioritisation and grooming Sandra Kilburn as an equal partner within the business which he was more than happy to do.

Soon enough, the board meeting was over and he was left with Sandra, Tillsdale, Derek and Matthew Hale who entered after the meeting ended.

He'd met up with Matthew Hale two weeks ago and in brought him into the secret of Illos.

He seemed to be appreciative of the plan after he'd explained that no, he was not going to conquer the world. His suspicions disappeared, for the most part, when he'd explained what Illos was and told him of where they were with things.

He wasn't too disbelieving, not after the flying boats he'd created that the man used to carry out the rescue and certainly not after the feats of magic Hale knew he was capable of.

Grindelwald's death at his teenage hands proved that.

What had surprised him however was that he'd adopted an orphaned muggleborn girl from amongst the Jewish children he'd rescued.

Which he'd been surprised about for a brief moment before he realised that it suited him despite his mercenary background. He had a deep sense of responsibility despite his thorny exterior. He wasn't surprised a little girl managed to squeeze through to his heart.

He was here because he had a network of contacts that he once more wanted to utilise today.

"I'm sure you're all curious what this is about but I will preface and state this meeting falls under the aegis of the Isle-Away secrecy contract." He said as he stapled his hands in front of him.

All but Hale unconsciously straightened up.

Atticus sighed out deeply and began to explain the problem.

On average, over the last few weeks, there were 23 children that reached their first magical maturity. Over the course of a year that meant roughly 8500 children.

Europe, MACUSA and Africa represented 65% of where these children were located and over 80% of the children were located in places that had Ministries of Magic or places that ICW influences.

Nearly 20% of magical children were located in regions that were unmonitored which was astounding.

He'd used the weeks between this meeting and his conversation with his mother to speak with his Aunt Viola and to familiarise himself with the ICW modus operandi when it came to the Stature of Secrecy of children located outside of magical oversight.

It could be chalked up as 'Fix it once it makes a loud enough noise and keep an eye out on any more noises in the area'. If the rumblings of magic became loud enough for the ICW to pick up, they'd go in and mind whammy everyone and their grandmothers and monitor the area for the next two decades for any more magical births.

That meant any places that didn't make any noise and quietly…resolved the issue would never be picked up.

Not to mention the places that were decent enough not to kill children would have untrained magicals and they all knew what that yielded. Ignorance and uneducated people can allow beliefs and faith to greatly misunderstand things.

The ones that became skilled enough in their uncontrolled magic to become some kind of holy or evil figure would eventually be picked up by the ICW.

The last thing they needed was another so called Prophet or worse.

What happened to those people though, he had no idea. Texts on it were frustratingly sparse.

Nevertheless, just over four children per day were reaching their first magical maturity in the unmonitored regions, just over fifteen hundred children per year – not accounting for population growth.

It was a relatively huge figure and he couldn't find anything on what happened to these children.

"I can't believe you've set up your own system of accidental magic and to this degree of accuracy" Tillsdale said with a shake of the head.

"Everywhere else, a complex array of wards that are painfully tied together over many years is used that captures any spikes of magic not hidden under wards within their borders. Even underage use of magic is only possible because of the monitoring charms on wands required by international law and here you are saying you can monitor young children to this degree" Tillsdale spied at Atticus.

"I would have trouble believing you if not for all that I've seen and know what you have done and plan on doing." Hillsdale sighed. "I'm glad that mind of yours is geared towards building things than it is conquest"

Hillsdale had been read into his plans a week or so ago when Sandra had vouched for him. He'd been disbelieving at first about Illos until he was convinced by the evidence and then later excited by the challenge of helping to write a constitution and legal basis from the ground up.

It was a legacy anyone would be proud to leave behind…especially if Illos became what he hoped it would be.

"From a legal standpoint, it is a grey area. The reading in of muggles to the secret of magic is left to the auspices of the individual Ministries – that is they are who can set the terms as long as it falls within the boundary of the Statute. It is why there is a wide variety of policies around the world…from informing muggles about magic when their child hits age eleven to taking children from their parents as soon as accidental magic is caught to…" Hillsdale shuffled a little uncomfortably in his seat "to doing neither of those things."

Sandra's eyes tightened up at that. "Yes." She said in a prim tone that reminded him somewhat of McGonagall.

She continued "Given that these children reside in areas that are unmonitored without any oversight from any Ministry, there is only the precedents that the ICW have set, like the 1808 Agualerre case" She looked around the table and saw that no one knew other than Hillsdale what she was referring to.

"The 1808 Aguelerre case refers to the incident that occurred in the remote lands in Argentina – at the time part of the Viceroyalty of the Rio de la Plata – where there had been no oversight from any governing bodies of those regions at the time.

A child, no older than eight, was discovered to be magical and subsequently subjected to a lynch mob that tortured him for over a week until he managed to escape his tormenters with a powerful bout of accidental magic.

Before he could be recaptured by the muggles, the ICW finally had been able to arrive and erased any evidence of the incident. They amended their statutes and policies that allowed them to monitor locations across the world if there were high incidents of magical children being born. Depending on the situation, whether or not it was necessary to read in the muggles or take the children away, these children would either be given citizenship by the closest Ministry under the direction of the ICW or the ICW would take them in themselves and place them in a home in Alexandria should the parents prove to be unsuitable." She said finally.

"The ages of these cases have been varied" Hillsdale picked up from where she left off.

She nodded her agreement. "Though we are not a representatives of a government"

"Yet" Saunders helpfully supplied much to the amused annoyance of Sandra who continued

"We can use this grey area to avoid punishment" she finished.

"Good. That means we can argue our way out if it needs to happen." He said. His relationship with the ICW was not one he was too sure about and he'd rather not put himself in their crosshairs any more than he needed to.

"So that makes my presence here obvious" Hale spoke up for the first time. "You want me to organise teams who would be willing to go in the middle of nowhere to do…what exactly?" Hale asked with a piercing gaze.

"Should the parents prove to be suitable and accepting of magic and of their child, I want to bring them over to Britain, Ireland or America" he nodded to Saunders before he turned back to Hale "Once we've set up a manufacturing company there in the next six months. They will be granted low skilled jobs that requires minimal training whilst their children get the best education possible"

"It won't go under the radar if so many of these children are sent letters of admission years later with clearly foreign backgrounds" Saunders said with a frown. "Then there is the issue that many of the places these people are from are not white. Most people in those countries aren't exactly welcoming of these kinds of people."

"The children won't be going to any established magical schools. They'll be going to Illos" he declared firmly "and to the racial issues…they will be working amongst squibs and other foreigners like themselves. The native squibs will help socially, I'm sure of it." He dismissed.

"But Illos isn't ready, is it?" Sandra asked surprised. He turned to her.

"No, it isn't but it will be by the time they'll be of age. For the moment" he turned to Derek "they can be enrolled to private all-through school we've established here in England." It taught all children from the ages of three to nineteen.

Derek nodded "It is up and running and we've had our first squibs enrolled to the school." He said with a smile. One of the things that he'd tasked his elves to do was to obtain a copy of the birthing registry of St. Mungos.

Almost all magicals went there to give birth, even the hedge witches. It was one of the better policies of the Ministry, to give free medical care for pregnant women.

They'd managed to trace a few hundred squib children from the ages of eight to sixteen based on their sudden appearance at orphanages and would continue to monitor it.

Quite a few of them retained their memories and from what he heard they were doing a lot better when they realised what the opportunity in front of them was. Though he sympathised with the teachers who had to break the truth to the obliviated children.

All of it had an end purpose that was far what many of his employees thought he was doing. Yes, he did care about these children who were discarded by their parents for not having magic but ultimately…

He cared more about the generation that came after them…their children. By creating an environment and an organisation of squibs and muggleborns, the chances of them all pairing up and creating magical children was substantial.

By subtly influencing them from childhood and removing some if not all of the bitterness they felt about not having magic making them part of the magical world in this new way, he would have highly educated people who could contribute to the development of Illos whilst also have magical children that were desperately needed.

He resisted the urge to close his eyes.

At times he felt like he was a Nazi doctor conducting Eugenics programs with the way he was thinking about solving the problems that he faced.

He needed a large stable population in Illos by the time Exodus happened – he did not know for certain if it even would happen but all he knew led to that end – a population that lived and breathed the values he wished to instil in Illos, so that all of those different cultures could be absorbed into the greater whole.

When Magical Britain…hopefully…moved into Illos, he hoped to already have a population of 20,000 to 50,000 magicals at least.

The problem was however, the global wizarding population and growth was small…far too small and not many would want leave their homelands unless they were mostly outcasts like muggleborns or half bloods.

He didn't want those people at present either. They would bring their prejudices, their problems into Illos which would be in its infancy and it didn't need a cracked foundation.

Magical Britain by the time of the 1970s and 80s would be effectively be conditioned to accept the new reality of Illos…equality to all blood statuses, magical beings and a way of governing that was fair and without corruption.

The rest of the magical world he would have little opportunity to affect even if they had plans for Ireland, France and North America.

Eventually those problematic people would come – the ICW came to mind when he thought of the problematic individuals – but at the end when they would have no choice but to change and accept it or…die.

Many of the students that were studying at SIMS would be informed of Illos within the next few years once they graduate and they'd form a core part of it but children would form the basis of Illos.

They were the future.

He needed to speak to Moira about this and pick her mind on this.

"What if they refuse to move?" Hale once more spoke up, drawing attention to himself.

"What if they were unsuitable?" Saunders murmured aloud.

They looked to Atticus who sighed. "If they refused to move…attempt to reason with them some more about the dangers of a magical child who is untrained and amongst muggles who will fear him."

"And if they still refuse?" Hale pressed.

"Then…offer a choice to the child" He met Hale's gaze. "To be taught magic and be protected from those who would fear them. If the child accepts, we'll put the parents under a Secrecy Spell. If they refuse just like their parents…memory charm them and leave them be." He said firmly continuing to meet Hale's gaze who eventually nodded his acceptance.

"They wouldn't be able to make an informed decision" Sandra said quietly.

"They wouldn't" Atticus agreed "But there is no other choice in this case."

He turned to Saunders "If they're unsuitable then the choice is easy."

After that, the rest of the meeting continued on to discuss the logistics and how they were going to organise it all.

-Break-

21st of April 1943

Emily POV

"Welcome my Lords" Atticus said respectfully as he greeted Lords Eldric Carson, Silas Merek and Marvin Garrick who arrived through the floo.

"Lord Sayre" They bowed their heads to him before they turned to her "Lady Slytherin" inclining their heads before they turned their gaze at Anne.

"Dowager Sayre, I'm pleased to you in good health" Lord Carson said with a gentle smile. Lord Garrick nodded his agreement.

"Have to agree with the old boy here, Lady Sayre" Merek said easily enough.

If she recalled correctly the last time they'd met was likely at Markus' funeral.

"Thank you for your kind words my Lords" she said with a kind warm smile. "It's been too long since we've seen each other."

They began to walk towards the hearth of the manor through the rear of the entrance hall where guests and family were entertained.

Merek chuckled "You don't know half of it. It might half a year or so but it felt like an age" he said in sobering tone.

"Yes, I'm quite glad all of that is behind us" Carson agreed. "I've seen enough of war to last me a lifetime."

They arrived at the huge room that was decorated with portraits of Sayre ancestors, paintings of scenes, of regions where the Sayre may have resided over the millennia and of famous battles that she read about in a family history book that Anne borrowed her around the time she got betrothed to her son.

They sat down and soon were all presented with a cup of tea.

The conversation soon enough moved away from war and loss straight to the matter at hand.

When Atticus had told her, Anne and Benedict about what he'd heard from the Minister, it had sent alarm bells through the minds of Anne and Benedict.

If House Black was making moves against you, it rarely meant anything good.

And so they began to strategise and how to capitalise on the successes of the war to strengthen their political position especially given that a number of neutral and independent factions had approached them looking for alliances.

They would need to clarify their position first and foremost. Traditionally speaking the Sayre family typically, for the last three centuries, had remained firmly business only but now of course, that was shifting.

What they'd show to the public would different to what their personal positions were going to be.

Atticus was going to be the focus, the one who all eyes would fall upon as he talked about controversial and politically sensitive topics whilst she would remain in the background, slowly gathering support to her side.

As time went by and the Wizengamot soured on Atticus, her influence would grow…especially when she'd offer them a way for Atticus to no longer be a political problem.

He joked that betraying him was going to be the best thing she'd do for him.

"And what of House Slytherin?" Lord Merek asked, his eyes keenly studying her. "Many are curious about what faction, if any at all, you'll join this summer after your ascension to your family's seat."

"I will be putting myself within the neutral camp but not amongst the new Greys." She said calmly. "With the support and trust I hold of several heirs to Traditionalist Wizengamot seat holders, it would not be expedient to ally myself politically with the Greys" she glanced at Atticus for a moment "Despite it being a faction you'll be heading."

"You will not ally yourself with your husband to be?" Garrick asked sharply.

"We may marry but it does not mean I am to be his chattel" Emily said with a saccharine smile though it didn't reach her eyes. "We will be allied simply not completely politically aligned."

"I will still be Lady Slytherin and my titles are independent from this union with House Sayre. As such I have a duty to my House's wellbeing."

"Or so you will explain to the world" Carson said in an appraising tone.

She nodded affirmatively.

"I'm not exactly happy with it" Benedict said with a side eyed glance at Emily before he looked at Carson "But ultimately it is acceptable."

"And what of your heirs?" Merek asked curiously.

"They will be born Sayres" She said in a calm tone even as she stared at Merek "After that, titles will be decided based on what affinities they hold."

"Sensible" Carson said with approval "You'll be asked these kinds of questions all too often, Lady Slytherin" he said with a commiserating tone. "Especially if you seek to re-establish House Slytherin as a powerful player in the coming years."

She nodded "I'm aware."

Men and their need for offspring never would be something she would not despise. They were all too happy to demand them but they would not have to carry the creatures in their bodies.

Perhaps she could create a curse that would force men to bear children?

It was worth thinking on.

"Speaking of heirs" Benedict interjected, drawing attention to himself "Sophia will be made Head of House to the McDowell family."

"Which I agree with" Atticus said with a smile "She may pass off sitting within the Wizengamot to grandfather" he said with a bemused look on his face "but she is more than up to it."

"Are you not concerned the name and inheritance may pass out of the family?" Carson asked with a frown on his face.

"No. She will marry, eventually, matrilineally." Atticus declared with a firmness to his tone. "Any potential courtship will only be permissible to that effect."

Carson's eyes widened but bowed his head respectfully.

After that, they spoke an hour longer about businesses before their guests departed.

"When will you bring them into the secret?" Benedict asked of Atticus.

Benedict had been informed about Illos a week or so ago and it had been fascinating to see him cycle through expressions of shock, anger and pride.

It did help that Anne had made it a lot smoother than it really should have been.

She wondered how he would react once he met his supposed ancestor.

He glanced at her for a moment before he met his great grandfather's eyes "Likely after the wedding. There is still far too much to do before then"

"Good. They do deserve to know, Atticus" Anne said "They've been steadfast allies of this family for over a thousand years."

"I know" Atticus said with a slight smile "They have earned my loyalty just as their ancestors have earned my ancestors with their service and aid."

"Speaking of allies…" Benedict turned to her with a curious expression on his face. "Will there any Houses that you will be informing?"

She smiled at Benedict at his not so hidden probing.

"Yes. The heirs to the Carrow, Dolohov and Rockwood families are steadfast allies and who will be informed about Illos when it is time." Unfortunately, any alliances that were between House Slytherin and other Houses, including Vassals, were all but rendered obsolete.

Houses Max, Proudmore, Quinn and Thurkell had been released from Vassalage over a century ago due to the conditions specified within the accords having been reached.

Unfortunately, the only heir to those families she could have met had already graduated Hogwarts in her first year.

She would have to meet with them to sound them out. Especially given that none of them had even contacted her.

She had a suspicion as to why. The Max family were notoriously an ardent purist family and given her own half blood roots…

Well…

"The Malfoy heir?" Atticus questioned with a raised eyebrow.

She pursed her lips "I have considered him." She said plainly.

"But no longer?" Anne asked with a tilted head "Because of the situation with House Black?"

Emily inclined her head. Her secrets were secure, she knew that and she knew that the fact that she was a Slytherin most certainly meant that the Malfoys were not completely in the camp of the Blacks.

They were not the kind of family that had loyalty within their blood.

But they were a smart and useful family with substantial wealth and connections.

The Malfoys, despite their ignominious flight from France centuries ago, had managed to build respectable links all across Europe.

Such links she'd want to utilise when she gripped tightly onto Magical Britain.

"Include him" Benedict said finally. "If we can pry him away from the Blacks…permanently, his father will accept it."

"Truly?" Atticus asked surprised.

Benedict smiled before he nodded. "The Malfoys likely would even encourage it. They will know that the next coming decades will be dominated by our faction and the Black faction. They are the kind of family that would hedge their bets and only make a full commitment when it is obvious who will win."

"And if Malfoy sees Illos…" Anne trailed off.

"And if the boy sees Illos" he glanced at Atticus "and it's anything like the images I have seen of the place, well…"

"I will include him" she said after a moment. "The Blacks may not even a problem. Orion Black…"

"Orion Black is not Head of House" Benedict said firmly "You may have the boy's allegiance for now but family…will always triumph. My wife's family" Benedict said in a sobering tone "her family always had a knack of sticking together when it truly mattered. I wouldn't be surprised if you do not meet him again until the wedding, offering excuses after excuses."

Her eyes darkened but said nothing in responds. If that was the case…She'd ask Rockwood to keep an eye on Orion.

Soon enough she was alone with Atticus in bed, her head laying in his lap as he sat up against the back of the bed, his fingers stroked her cheek gently whilst she read back on her notes on her experiments on Grindelwald.

Grindelwald's body had been a contradiction of magic. It shouldn't have been possible.

Somehow it was kept sustained through a constant supply of magic, a supply of magic that was several times the size of her own despite having no soul.

It marked several questions that would take years to discover.

Magic needed all trinity to manifest yet Grindelwald had only his body left at that stage.

He had no soul and as such the mind was not there either. She'd tried Legillimency – she'd never do that again – and she got nothing but a severe headache.

Atticus had mentioned that perhaps the attack had damaged the brain too severely that any stored memories within the brain was simply gone as new neurons were made by his regeneration.

That if the soul had remained, the soul would have forced the same patterns, the same memories to form within the brain.

It was only speculation without any real basis but it was curious one.

She placed her notes down on her chest and turned her gaze towards him. A holographic display of Illos that were in six different segments were high above their heads by the chandeliers.

With his free hand, he was manipulating the rotation of the hologram. She saw him frown as he looked at the outer shell segments.

She sat up a little which broke him out of his frown and he looked down at her and saw her questioning gaze.

"I'm just considering if it is a mistake to use Adamantite almost exclusively for any metallic structures that will contain and protect the fragile ecosystems of Illos. Of course, Adamantite for the top and bottom shells will be necessary but even so…" He said to her. "Once the permanent transfiguration is set, I will not be able to change it, not with the way I have set the runes to activate the transfiguration and hold the permanence."

"Adamantite's properties are by far the best of any mundane and magical metal" she said with a curious expression. "It retains its ridiculous strength even at almost 6,000 degrees Celsius and to top it off it's the most magically conducive metal whilst simultaneously is the most resistant to magical attacks. Not even that alloy Moira's people used – Neutronium I think she called it – will be as perfect as Adamantite is. The only metal that can even improve upon it is…" her eyes sharpened.

He turned away from her and towards Illos. "Mithril" he said as he stared at the hologram with burning intensity.

He had an obsession with the metal that almost reminded her of Ishmael in his pursuits of Moby Dick.

Granted he wasn't quite there yet but it was curious to see him be so frustrated on something that seemed to lay beyond his reach.

He could find nothing on the forging process and she knew that he'd spent, over the years, a fortune to chase any and all leads to it.

So much so he'd resigned that he'd have to deal with the Goblins to get a sample and hopefully figure out a way to reverse-engineering it.

"Mithril from what we know is practically pure magic. Even the few descriptions that exist of it state that is more liquid than metal" She frowned "What use could such a metal have?"

He turned to her, his eyes wild with enflamed passion. "Anything and Everything" he said passionately.

"An element that is practically liquid magic that shift between liquid state and solid state?" His eyes gleamed "The possibilities are endless, Emily."

He continued "It could be the softest material possible yet could also become the hardest material in existence within a fraction of a microsecond. Magic responds, Emily, and a metal that can shift between two, probably even all three, states just like that" he clicked his fingers "Means that it will be extremely responsive to input. And Magic…well, Magic responds to magic and Will and I highly suspect that it will respond just as well as your own magic responds to you." She thought it over until she arrived at a startling conclusion.

She met his gaze and saw that he understood that she understood. "If we inlay Illos with Mithril…" she began and he smiled widely and leaned forward, kissing her passionately on the lips.

They separated and his eyes shone brightly "And if we manage to figure out how to tie to ourselves…" he said with a whisper.

She began to laugh. "Illos will never not be ours."

His face turned and soured "That is if I can convince the Goblins."

She rose and stood on her knees on the bed before she grabbed his face, a hint of admiration in her eyes. If she was brilliant at figuring things out then he was just as astonishing when it came to thinking up new things. And she knew that he'd figure out what to do about the Goblins "If the Goblins have it, I know you will get it"

She kissed him gently on the lips as Atticus' arms wrapped around her, thoughts of Illos, Mithril and Goblins soon forgotten.

-Break-

2nd of May 1943

Parkinson POV

He leaned against one of the pillars as he watched the gathering talking amongst themselves.

The only thing he'd been surprised about was that it had taken this long to happen.

"Welcome all" Lord Sayre said with a warm expression as he stood at the front of the ball room in Sayre Manor.

Crystalline chandeliers that sparkled every colour possible, unblemished marble pillars that melted into the marble floor as if it had been carved out of one single block.

He glanced at the men who had requested this meeting with Lord Sayre. The contrast between the robes they wore and the…opulence of this ballroom was stark.

These men had signed up to join Knights of Mimpost for differing reasons.

Some felt the call of duty, the steadfast fools who had wholeheartedly believed it was the right thing to do.

Others hit a stage in their lives that caused them to impulsively join the Knights and had found something they had lacked in their lives amongst the comradery they'd built with the men.

Most…most had seen it as an opportunity though he doubted any of them had understood what kind.

Yet all of them were here for a single reason…

They could no longer go back to their lives

The nature of British Magical Society could be summed up in three ways…

The Nobility, the second class citizens and the quiet irrelevant.

Mudbloods and half bloods raised in the muggle world were second class citizens yet they were also the loudest of the three groups.

Over the last century, their voices had been heard and they were placated even if it measures taken to do it was worth as much as a Goblin promising not to stab you in the back.

When it came to the quiet irrelevant though…

These were mostly purebloods that one walked by in one of the Alleys but would never notice…the pureblood that worked in a middling position in the Ministry, the pureblood whose name you vaguely recognise and later realise was related to one of the decent Chasers who played for your team some twenty years ago.

The purebloods that were the core of the population but lacked any power or drive for it…

People who were accepting of being the quiet irrelevant, living their lives nearly untouched by whatever the Ministry or the Wizengamot did or passed through into law.

They were those people.

Were…

As he glanced around, observing their expressions as Lord Sayre spoke, he felt a sense of triumph wash over him.

He'd predicted that these people could never go back to their middling lives…these people who'd tasted war, who had been relevant…and did important and powerful things…

Who'd seen his power…

They'd requested this meeting a few days ago after they met up with each other to discuss how things were in their lives, remembering the offer he'd given to them all.

Out of the four hundred remaining members of the Knights of Mimpost, over a hundred had gone home, here in Britain, in mainland Europe or elsewhere.

These had been the heirs or members of noble families who had something to go back to. Another hundred had existing commitments that kept them away whilst half that had businesses sponsored by Lord Sayre and by other Lords who wished to contribute to the success of their comrades whilst also profiting from it.

The last hundred and fifty or so…

Well…he was staring at them.

Hopeful…excited…

Those were the expression they wore whilst their hearts swelled with trust.

Loyalty…trust…

They did odd things to men, he mused as he thought back on those days in the fields of battle.

He'd seen first hand the growing degree of trust and loyalty in these men, from battle to battle, victory after victory, not unlike radiant roses steadily but surely rupturing through fertile soil and soaking in ample nourishing sun.

It had been fascinating to see happening and to see Sayre's reactions to it.

It was amusing, the way it made him uncomfortable which paradoxically made more of them comfortable with placing their trust in him…and setting those like Potter and Bones more at ease as more and more men became loyal to him personally.

Just as it was amusing that in some way Sayre knew what happening and continued to encourage it even if it seemed like he was reluctant about it.

Potter and Bones did not understand but they felt it, feeling that there was something off about Sayre and what was happening.

It was a credit to them despite being from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff families.

As he looked at the men in front of him he wondered…

Would they ever glimpse at who Sayre was at all?

Perhaps it was unfair…he himself wasn't even sure who the young Lord was despite his observations and what he knew now having been brought into his confidence.

He doubted he even knew half of it.

But it was sufficient for now. He had plenty of time to find out everything.

Before he'd been told, all he had known and suspected what that Sayre had plans.

He had known it the moment Sayre had given that speech in the Wizengamot.

It was a rallying cry, to be sure, but it was far from the conscientious rallying cry to remove a tyrant.

He turned back his gaze at Lord Sayre, his calculating eyes watching, reading every minute expression his face bore as he spoke, grudgingly impressed at the range and the way his eyes changed so vividly and animatedly as he spoke about the various different jobs that they could have.

He drew attention to himself like a niffler would be drawn to precious metals and stones, a magnet that glued the eyes and thoughts to his words, unable to resist to listen.

He was young.

Younger than he had the right to be.

Perhaps that was what made it believable, he mused.

The burning fires of youth fuelling an impossible idea, one that would be mocked and ridiculed for being senseless.

Sayre began to outline his plans to the men, to what they would be part off. They'd start with the underground portions of the Magical World, clearing out the…unsavoury elements and rescuing the victims from their situation all across Europe.

He could see it resonate with many of them after seeing some of the camps that De Galle had created. It had been gruesome to be sure and he did not doubt that some of the men had nightmares about it even now.

Sayre also told them of the educational opportunities that were available to them if they wanted that instead and then would later work in one of his companies.

Soon enough after he'd finished outlining the options available to them, one of them asked.

"Would you accept my Oath of Vassalage?" One of the men asked and his eyes were alight with amusement with how off guard Sayre was.

He quickly regained composure as he stared at the man with a frown on his face "Do you know what you're asking?"

"I do" the man said firmly – Kelsie if he remembered correctly was his name.

"So do I!"

"And I!"

On and on it went as more men declared their willingness to swear an oath of vassalage to him.

Sayre raised his hand, a difficult to describe expression was on his face.

"Go home." He said in a soft tone which silenced the entire room.

"Go home and think on it. This is not a decision to be made lightly. I am…" he paused for a moment "honoured that you find me worthy to swear an oath of vassalage to" he bowed his head towards them, a mark of deep respect and one that was appreciated by all.

He raised his head "But I don't want you to make this decision lightly. Think on it, sleep on it. And if you still wish to do this come tomorrow morning…"

After that, the men went home not long after and he remained behind with Sayre.

He gazed out of the patio that led out towards the Gardens of Sayre Manor.

"Did you know they'd do that?" Sayre asked as he stepped beside him.

"No." he answered simply as he glanced at the young man from the corner of his eyes.

"But you suspected" Sayre simply stated, no accusation in his tone.

"I did."

They fell in an easy silence for a while.

"I knew I held their loyalty but I never thought…" Sayre trailed off.

He could understand the sentiment. Oaths of Vassalage were not to be done lightly. They were a greater oath than an Oaths of Allegiance like the one that tied the noble families of the Wizengamot to the British Crown.

Both had to be made with free will and were generational. It was tied to family magic.

Oaths of Allegiances were tied to titles and could be escaped if one gave up their titles and grants given to them to whom they were tied to. It could be severed by the one sworn to it.

Oaths of Vassalage had no such escapes.

Where Oaths of Vassalage differed was that it could not be relinquished, not unless both parties agreed to.

Even those who were vassals like a number of noble families still were, were not bound by the Oaths of Vassalage as the practice had been deemed immoral by the Ministry in its early days.

"Where did they even find out the existence of the Oath?" Sayre asked him, the slight narrowing of eyes indicated that he suspected him of something.

"Not from me. It may be obscure but it is still taught in some of the lesser schools in Britain. Especially given how important such oaths were in the time of Arthur Pendragon" he said that with a ghost of a smirk.

Sayre scowled at the insinuation before he looked away at a distant tree that overlooked the lake.

"Will you reject it?" Parkinson finally asked. He wasn't entirely sure he'd accept.

"I can't yet I absolutely should." He glanced at Parkinson as his lips thinned. "If it is found out…"

Parkinson nodded. "Yes…it would cause issues to say the least" Those in power already were nervous about Sayre.

The power he wielded…both politically and magically…

He was a threat.

And they were right to believe it so.

This would only embolden his…their enemies.

In a way he was glad that Illos was happening.

He would have been disappointed in his expectations of Sayre if he turned out to be just another Dark Lord which he would have become…willingly or not.

All of this was far more exciting…worthy…

Sayre turned to him, his purple green eyes bored into him "Will you still be able to ferret out who among the ICW is arrayed against us and still able to oversee the operations in Europe?"

He tilted his head as he thought it over. "For now." He nodded slowly "But I will need at least a few competent men."

"Karl Merek?" Sayre offered. A member of his family's ancient allies and who had fought with them in Europe. Strong magically and from what he saw of him, intelligent enough.

He nodded "Acceptable. Silamontaine would be useful too. To be begin with." She was unusually competent and someone who was trustworthy enough. Unfortunately, in the end she decided to go her separate way as she hadn't taken up any of the offers presented to the Knights of Mimpost

"I'm working on it." Sayre said to him. He only nodded in response.

Sayre gave an almost inaudible sigh. "I suppose this will make it easier for our plans for the more troubling situations."

"It would" he agreed. They'd have more men at their command who were utterly loyal.

One such possible situation was when it came to the unmonitored cases.

Hale's choices were…adequate but inevitably there will be circumstances that they will not be able to deal with.

The next day arrived and not one had changed their minds.

"Very well." Sayre said finally. "Come forth, Mr Kelsie."

The room separated into two as he swept forward towards Atticus and took a knee in front of him.

Sayre closed his eyes and brought together his hands to his chest, his magic began to manifest itself in tempestuous swirls of purples and greens as it grew and grew to exude from his very body.

His eyes opened and two glowing white orbs struck at the world.

"Repeat after me: I, Jacobius Kelsie"

"I, Jacobius Kelsie"

"Hereby Swear and Promise on my faith and on my magic"

"Hereby Swear and Promise on my faith and on my magic"

"That I will be faithful and true to you, fight as you would fight, shun all that you shun"

"That I will be faithful and true to you, fight as you would fight, shun all that you shun"

"and never, by will nor force, by word nor by work, do ought what is loathful or harmful to you"

"and never, by will nor force, by word nor by work, do ought what is loathful or harmful to you"

"This so I swear on my Magic, on my Blood and on my Faith to my Lord Atticus Sayre of the House of Sayre"

"This so I swear on my Magic, on my Blood and on my Faith to my Lord Atticus Sayre of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Sayre"

Both Sayre and Kelsie held a glow of silver for a brief second as he finished.

"And I" Sayre began to speak, his voice teeming with solemnity and power as the magic around him intensified.

"Lord Sayre of the House of Sayre, make this promise to you;

As you keep faith in me, I shall be faithful to you.

I will fight for you as you would fight for me.

I shall be fair in my judgment and merciful in my verdict of you, whom hath submitted to me and trusts in my Will.

This so I swear on my Magic, on my Blood and on my Faith to my loyal vassal, Jacobius Kelsie"

His eyes widened at that oath. It was far more…stringent on Sayre himself. And it seemed like the men understood that too.

It seemed like Sayre would continue to surprise him.

They both glowed a golden hue as Sayre completed his part in the oath, the magic that twisted and whirled around him intensifying.

One by one they came forth and swore the oath and in turn were given an oath by Sayre until it was all done.

Yet…as the last man took his oath, they all as one kneeled before him, their heads bowed away from his glowing white orbs as his hair began to sway in the rich dense magic that he was exuding.

He could not blame them…

Perhaps that was why this was so exciting to him…

Why he would never not see all of this through…even if it only had a small chance of success.

Yes…

True…

He was young.

But…

He looked at the young man before him, radiant and teeming with depths of magic that only a handful in tens of thousands of years had ever been capable of…

Sayre looked like a king.

A king worthy of magicals.

One worthy of loyalty…

Loyalty…

…Loyalty was odd, he mused

He'd seen the stirrings in the hearts of men, the hearts of these men many months ago, deepening and holding firm root within their very beings…and…

Perhaps even he held a smidgen of such stirrings in his own as he glanced at the figure before him.

And, he thought musingly as his eyes roved over the men who knelt in front of Sayre…

Perhaps…perhaps it was not loyalty that was odd but merely the root behind the oddity he could see happen…

Conquest without having to conquer at all.

And that…

Well…

That was perhaps a strength and a feat greater than all the magic in the world.

-Break-

5th of May 1943

"Remind me never to go anywhere with you in public" his sister muttered loud enough for him to hear with her fingers pressing down his arm whilst they walked through the crowded street of Diagon Alley.

He grimaced lightly before he fixed a smile on his face nodding to the crowd who were greeting him a bit too much.

They kept their distance, thankfully, given that it was improper to behave in such a way to a Lord, never mind a Lord of his stature.

It helped that Dayton and a few guards were behind them as well. Sophia knew that it was for her sake even if he said otherwise.

"I didn't expect it to be this crowded on a Friday morning" he said to her. She looked to him unimpressed.

"Apparently ever since the death of Grindelwald, the Alleys have never been busier. There are actually a few shops moving back into Diagon Alley away from Godric's Hollow" she commented.

Godric's Hollow ever since they'd move much of the population away from the Alleys had become a bustling town but it did lack something that Diagon Alley just exuded. He wasn't surprised that many people wanted to move back into Diagon.

He parted ways with his sister and Dayton along with their guards and made his way towards Gringotts.

He walked through bronze doors of the white building that dominated the surrounding shops. He glanced at the two goblins that stood by the doors before he walked past them and turned his gaze forward.

Say what you wanted about the nature of goblins but they did know to build grandiose buildings as he glanced at the familiar vast marble hall that was unbroken and unblemished.

He walked towards the counter, ignoring the hubbub of recognition from the people.

"I'm here to see Prince Ragnok." He said calmly.

The Teller's bored expression changed once he recognised Atticus and straightened up. "Lord Sayre" the teller said with sharp eyes "The Crown Prince is expecting you."

He turned around "Hornhook!" he barked out before he turned to face Atticus again.

Soon enough he was alone with the Crown Prince of the Goblin Nation, the individual he'd been dealing with for the past few times he'd been in Gringotts on business.

"Well met Lord Sayre" Ragnok said as he placed his hands on the table.

"Well met Prince Ragnok" he inclined his head respectfully. He was directed to a seat opposite the Prince of the Goblin Nation.

"We have gone through the terms you have suggested" The Prince began, getting straight to the point.

"And?" Atticus prompted as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes appraising the Prince before him.

When he'd come to them to source the raw material he needed to make the technological infrastructure for Illos, it had taken days for them to iron out the agreements.

They had been suspicious too…anyone would, really, considering the sheer volume of materials that he was purchasing for uses that none of them knew a single about.

They knew he was using the material to build something but they had no clue as to what.

And they wouldn't, not until everyone else did.

"We are not disinclined to agree to supply the volumes you need – in principle" the Prince said finally "But instead of 100% of the annual yield of this…mysterious goldmine" he said with the slightest narrowing of eyes.

He wasn't surprised that they weren't buying it. The purity of the gold was just too good for it to have been naturally occurring.

But it suited both of them not to question it.

The Prince was likely getting significant amount of political influence from this deal and though he knew very little about what happened in the Goblin Nation, he did know that Goblins gained prestige and power through the success of deals and businesses.

"We will accept 70% of the yield and six locations of sources of platinum and silver" The goblin placed his hands onto the table, staring intently at Atticus.

Atticus narrowed his eyes. "No." he said simply meeting the gaze of the Goblin. "That is far too exorbitant."

The goblin flashed his teeth "You do not deny it?"

"Of course not. You would not believe me and it serves me no purpose to deny such a thing" Atticus smiled thinly. "After all, I did provide you over four dozen locations that housed rich veins and deposits of the metals I need. I would have been disappointed if the thought didn't cross your mind."

The goblin Prince remained silent for a moment "50% of the yield and six rich sources of platinum and silver."

Atticus remained silent, seemingly looking contemplative of the offer.

He could care less about the veins of platinum and silver. It meant nothing to him yet he knew that he would have to at least make it seem that he wanted a fair deal.

Finally, after several minutes of silence he spoke up "50% of the yield for three years and four sources of platinum and silver deposits for three years supply for the stipulated volume of metals and…"

His expression was unchanged though his eyes glinted "a single artefact, coinage or item made entirely out of authenticated Mithril"

The eyebrows of the goblin Prince raised high until he began to chuckle before he turned his gaze back on Atticus "I'm surprised that Mithril has remained out of your hands, especially given the wealth you seem to have access to" the Prince pried as he stared at Atticus with a calculating gaze.

"If only wealth was all that was needed" Atticus said with a thin smile. "We both know that the Goblin Nation has done an excellent job in ensuring that Mithril remained out of the hands of anyone in the Magical World."

The Prince bared his teeth before he inclined his head, accepting Atticus' words as praise rather than an accusation.

The goblins had gotten an agreement out of Emrys to never make the forging of Mithril public for the sake of peace despite the fact that at that point the goblins had been little more than a neutered paper tiger.

Mithril was the holy grail of magical metals and was simply better than goblin silver and threatened to destroy their entire artificing industry. No one would buy goblin produce if wizarding produce was available and was better.

Ironically that agreement was what allowed for the goblins to gain a measure of revitalisation as it helped fund what eventually became into the institution that was Gringotts.

Any Houses that may have a source of Mithril had long ago been robbed of it and if there were any noble families who had any well…

They certainly managed to keep it secret.

The Prince got up "I will speak to a few of my people." He simply stated before he exited the room.

Ten minutes later he arrived back and sat in his seat again. "60% of the annual yield for four years, five sources of platinum and silver for three years supply of the required volume of the specified metals" his hand went into his pocket and fished out a large smooth coin. "And one coin made out of authenticated Mithril" He placed the coin with a thud on the desk.

Atticus stared at the coin with a burning intensity.

No matter what he did or tried, he could never find any source of it nor could he find any texts on it.

Not even the Resurrection Stone was able to call forth Merlin, Myrrdin or whatever other variants he was known by.

Not even his damn companions, most of them he managed to call upon, had known how the man had done it or what his true name was.

And without a single clue or source, it was like shooting in the dark with no light at a target a thousand yards away.

Incredibly Improbable.

And now, here was a source he'd been wanting for years.

His gaze travelled, meeting the Goblin's eyes as a slow cool smile formed on his face, one the Goblin Prince reciprocated, knowing that an agreement was reached.

-Break-

8th of May 1943

Emily POV

"One thing I never understood" she said as she looked across the table to Moira as they ate lunch. "Is why you never attempted to revitalise your people when you found out the Forerunners were gone at least had not visited for a very long time."

Both her and Atticus were currently at the Facility, the final arrangements being made with regards to the 64km nickel cored asteroid that they'd chosen.

It would turn into a 77km long oval structure that was less convex than an egg but at present, it was not occupying her mind.

Moira looked at her, her soulful black eyes seemed to stare right through Emily.

She met Moira's gaze unflinchingly.

She didn't trust the older woman, not when she felt almost nothing from her…it was like she was a void.

That wasn't the only thing either. Much of what Moira did didn't make sense to her. She was far from the kind of woman to wallow on the losses she and her people suffered…no…

Moira was far more like her than everyone else realised.

She could feel the disapproval emanating from Atticus but he remained silent.

She finally answered after a moment's pause "A hundred thousand years separated me from when the Ancient Enemy committed the great crime against my people and borne your ancestors. A hundred thousand years that allowed for genetic drift, new combinations, new genetics." She tilted her head in a near feline fashion.

"Even if I could have raised my people from the dead what gave me the right to end what I had seen as my people's descendants no matter how…reduced?"

"You would have corrected a crime done against your people" Emily said with narrowed eyes. "That would have given you the right."

"Perhaps that is so from your perspective" she said with a patient tone though her eyes held a hard look them. "But from mine, I would have been no better than my ancient enemies" her eyes seemed to grow distant, as if she was lost to a stream of memories that haunted her.

She made to respond but Atticus interjected "Emily…where is this coming from?"

She stared at him for a moment before she glanced at Moira "Beware of Greeks bearing gifts" she said simply, her blue black eyes staring at Moira.

"She had all this time to do more…yet she did nothing with it." She turned to Atticus "I cannot understand it, not when she has all of this power."

Sophia had told her that she'd been tired, that all she was doing was waiting until it was time for her to pass on the knowledge.

She didn't understand it, not when she could have done so much with it.

"And how do you even know she is even who she claims to be?" She asked of Atticus. It drove her mad how much he seemed to trust her.

"I know she is my direct ancestor" he said after a moment "It's been verified, Emily." Before she could ask he continued

"As to why she hasn't done anything further until I arrived" he turned to Moira and it seemed as if something passed between them.

"Moira's children…my ancestors foresaw me coming" he said in a strange tone, one that made her realise that he was still having trouble with it.

"That's…not possible" she said slowly as her mind processed what had just been said. "Divination cannot see so far ahead into the future…it's not possible" she said in a firmer turn, her eyes swivelling towards Moira, deep seeded mistrust apparent her eyes.

"It is perhaps not possible with your kind's current understanding or capabilities to glimpse into and perceive Living Time" Moira answered, her old eyes boring into Emily.

"Living Time?" Atticus asked with a frown.

Moira got up from her seat and began to walk towards the door "Meet me in Lab Zero Zero One" she said in her ever patient tone as she walked out.

Emily pinched her face even as she got up "I don't know why you trust her so much." She stated as they walked towards the door.

"I can understand your distrust" he said calmly as he looked at her from the corner of his eyes "But it is misplaced. You don't understand why she didn't take advantage of everything because it is not what you would have done."

"Are you saying you wouldn't?" she asked sharply, her head snapping in his direction.

"If I lost everything and everyone I knew…" he trailed off, for a moment until he breathed out and "I don't know I would have done things differently to Moira."

For a moment, she felt stricken. If she lost Atticus…

An uneasy silence filling the space between them until they arrived at the lab. The double doors parted and Moira stood there at the centre by a platform that formed from what she understood as millions if not billions of tiny machines.

It began to twist upwards like a slow rising anthill until the mass of machines began to float in the air in a bulbous grey mass of shifting orb. It stretched and thinned until all that remained was a strange collection of interlinked web of orb-like islands that vaguely reminded her of an image in one of the books from the Restricted Section she'd read on the Mind.

"One cannot understand Living Time without understanding what Neural Physics is" Moira began, her words echoing like an eerie sigh in a cavernous hall.

The grey structure began to shift, combining once more until long tendril began to stretch out from its centre and coalesced to form spiral arms, until it resembled the galaxy.

"Neural Physics is the all-encompassing understanding of abstract interaction between thought and the fabric of reality, its guiding principle being that the entire universe is living."

The galaxy began to split apart, another galaxy forming and it did this again and again until it resembled the same structure at the beginning, those same orb-like mountains forming in an overarching collective that was all combined.

It pulsed not unlike a heart pulsed and she knew that it was far from only a coincidence.

Moira turned to them, her striking looks now seemed far more captivating as she spoke

"You draw on exotic neurophysical energy, the same energy that permeates the cosmos to alter reality based on your will and your intent, your consciousness demanding the change in reality and the living cosmos acts on your demand"

"Magic" Emily simply stated and Moira nodded.

"Though what you know of it is akin to what your more mundane cousins know of the universe and principles on which it works. It is incomplete"

Emily said nothing to that as Moira continued

"The Mind and Soul are a fundamental aspect of everything that is exists, the vehicle that allows one small part of a greater whole to affect reality. Your kind does this in a way that can only be compared to one other Species"

The cosmos shifted into a grotesque being, an unnatural mix of arthropod and mammal, head flat and broad and low, overlapping sloping shoulders, wide-spaced compound eyes glittering like raw diamonds.

The solid image of the creature twisted around, its many limbs there to be seen whilst down its spine there crept a segmented, sea-scorpion like tail.

"The Precursors" she heard Atticus whisper.

These were the god like Beings that they were most similar to? She thought with distaste.

The creature looked far from being anything more than an overgrown parasite than it did a god like Being.

Atticus spoke of them with a kind of reverence that reminded her when he got really going on topics of Magic.

He idolised them.

She could understand it, for if it was true on what they had been capable of…to create star roads that spanned untold distances away, creating structures that left even empires such as the Ancient Humans and their ancient enemies full of awe…

It didn't mean that the creature wasn't repulsive looking. She hoped that their creations looked far better than they did.

"And Living Time…Living time is the collective universal consciousness that influences the whole of reality."

The creature disappeared as a long tube like stream formed and began to complete itself into a circle where light travelled around in the tunnel on an endless loop.

"Living time is made up of all that is experienced, will be experienced and could have been experienced. A collection of consciousness of all living things that is bound and affected by individuals or groups of individuals" Atticus said slowly with a deep frown as he tried to formulate what they had just been told.

"Almost" Moira answered "Living Time is enriched by all that is, could or will be experienced. It is a living entity on its own and we are but a small part of a greater whole. It is an infinite series of twisting, entangled streams that are intrinsically tied to fate"

"Wait…" Emily voiced out, her eyes wide with shock "You meant to say your people believed in fate." Fate was something she didn't like to hear was true, even if it was something that magicals deeply believed in.

But they had proof of it. Seers, Prophets and other divination talents had all proven that there was something like fate that existed.

To hear that Moira's people, perhaps even these Forerunners believed in fate…

She hated the idea that she was not in control of her own destiny…that all she would ever achieve was because it was allowed to happen.

If even millions of years old magic-less beings believed in its existence…

"In a way you could say that." Moira gave a saddened smile, her old eyes seemed far more tired than she had ever seen on anyone "It is hard not to believe in such a notion if it was not observed to exist"

"If I understand correctly, you mean to say that human, any consciousness is derivative of the cosmic consciousness…this Living Time?" Atticus asked, returning to the topic, away from the notion of fate.

"It can be considered as such, yes. We are but a small part of a greater whole." Moira answered.

"The Mantle of Responsibility, the guardianship of all living things, is formed around the notion of Living Time."

The mass of machines shifted and solid images of planets and peoples began to form. "There were some among my people" Moira began, her voice eerie and distant "Those were most like you, that were able to perceive Living Time."

Holographic images popped into existence, a swirling mess of images that made no sense cycled through as Moira continued. "Glimpses of Living Time often came as an overwhelming cacophony of moments, deeds, acts or memories, all twisted within bombarding chaotic un-navigable streams that held no beginning or end."

"Yet…" Moira said in a grim reverence, the slight shift in her voice felt like a disharmonious bell "There were some, a few, who could glimpse Living Time and fewer still that could perceive it with any kind of coherence."

The holographic images stopped cycling and images of people in odd armours and with tattoos marked on their faces, all of them the same and all of them held immutable gazes though their faces showed and spoke of ashen futures and sorrow destinies.

Before she knew it, she had breathed an indrawn breath, one that felt as if she was steeling herself for more revelations.

"Those few who could navigate through chaos and tangled flows of Living Time were our greatest." Her voice shifted, the disharmonious bells were now synced into a void-less abyss.

"I was once told that once one is able to listen, able to unravel the tangled web of the flow of Living Time, that it felt like you were finally how you were meant to exist…a knowing part of a greater whole, connected and entwined to the living universe. That the state of being before this was like missing all four limbs and all your senses, blind and unable to interact truly with reality"

She heard his breath quiver and she glanced at him. His face looked pale, his eyes wide as if his notions of reality had been shattered before him.

Her mind went back to the memories had shown her of his battle with Grindelwald, the indescribable way he, she, had seen the world forcefully came to the forefront of her mind.

Was he seeing Living Time then?

Or at the very least a form of it?

Perhaps they all did, in their own way. He may be more attuned but there were others who could see magic, who had visions.

"Those were able, naturally, also became our greatest heroes." The images shifted away to great ships that rained death and destruction against other great ships though these seemed to be infected with sickly ashen green tendrils.

"They learned to untangle threads and how to follow them, threads that lead to events, events that led to divergence and divergence that led to possibilities that were not yet solidified"

The images shifted towards ruthless shows of planet after planet being destroyed and then into images of different ships, larger and more alien, and, more numerous.

"Such possibilities had been what allowed my people to remain fighting for so long, at first against the Flood and then, later, against our Ancient Enemies." Moira said, her voice conveyed, muted though it may be, hints of irrevocable pride.

"Though" Moira began again, her tone all but vanished such hints of pride and a fractured sense of loss seemed to seep in "In the end, not even this understanding could change the flow of Living Time, not even our greatest could alter what was to come and what will be" The images blinked out, the mass of machines flowed downwards and merged with the grey cold floor.

Moira turned to them, her face solemn and emanating a deep sense of acceptance. "Any civilisation that claims to uphold the Mantle, is tasked to abide by the First Rule…to preserve the balance of Living Time." Her eyes grew hooded, darkening not unlike the emptiness of space.

"The Flood went against the very nature of the Mantle, raining down incalculable destruction to all life, caused suffering on a galactic scale that distorted and restricted the flow of Living Time to the point that it was at risk of collapse." Moira raised herself up, her impressive height now seemed to be towering.

"It was an imbalance that started long before the emergence of the Flood with the death of the Precursors." Moira said solemnly, her eyes now gazing past them.

"Our greatest perceivers had all come to a single outcome, a single cruel yet bittersweet conclusion in their interpretation of paths shown in Living Time…" Her eyes grew hooded as if she remembering a terrible moment.

"Our time had come yet our time was yet to come." Moira said, saying it in a way that seemed she was choke-full of regret and held withered dreams.

"The imbalance that stemmed from the death of the Precursors and then later further thrown into precipitous collapse by the Flood, was for our descendants to rectify, whomever and whatever they may be.

My daughter, half Ancient, half new, had this same understanding yet hers was of a clarity greater than any I have heard of before.

She Saw possibilities like no other and she spent many years following the threads of Living Time, encouraging, growing the seeds that led to events that would increase the possibilities of this very moment to occur.

Her infantile ripples, her small deeds, her kind acts, all of it became waves, waves that continue to grow even now and one day, one day will cleanse the galaxy from the imbalance that poisons it." Moira's words were like hammers on an anvil, Emily's world was thrown in a hazy daze as she struggled to understand the sheer magnitude, sheer loss and sacrifice Moira spoke of.

"You ask why I did nothing?" Moira's words seemed to haunt her as she stared at those soul tearing black eyes of the impossibly tall woman.

Moira stepped forward and Emily took a step back.

It was laughable, that she feared this woman, this woman who had no magic, could die from just a simple cutting curse yet she seemed insurmountable, someone who bore the fires and labours of a once great civilisation long extinct for an inconceivable age and now seemed to unleash her words of fury onto her.

"I did everything." Her words felt like a ripple had been sent out into the world, an immutable fact that permeated throughout the universe, words that held far more meaning than could possibly be explained.

"You are my triumph, you are my daughter's triumph, you are my people's triumph and you are Living Time's triumph." Moira walked passed them and stood just by the opened doors.

"Understand that these gifts are not for you. They are meant for far more than one single family and one single race of beings." She paused for a single moment.

"It is what my people have always striven for." Those words were said softly with a deep melancholy as she left the room to a deathly silence that seemed to suffocate all.

Emily stared at her hands and saw that she was trembling.

She'd never experienced such emotions before…that she felt like she was little more than an ant before a boot.

She looked to her side, to Atticus and saw him looking at her with a grim countenance.

"Power, Emily, Power comes in many, many forms" he looked away from her, towards the doors.

"You saw and felt that today." He said not in an unkind tone as his soft footsteps clanged eerily as the sounds bounced off of the constricting walls of the lab.

Soon she was left all alone with her thoughts, her mind still processing all that she learnt.

She wasn't sure what she felt…if it was fear, anger or a sense of helplessness.

Perhaps it was all three.

One thing she knew for sure though…

Never anger Moira again.

-Break-

25th of May 1943

The coin flicked between his fingers as he stared at it.

It was like a radiant sun, every single atom teemed with magic on a scale he'd never seen before.

It was mesmerising.

Yet it was also infuriating.

He could not even begin to understand how it was made.

It was literal solidified magic.

He had used The Facilities resources to analyse it and it had come to the same conclusion.

Neurophysical Energy made solid.

Moira had been stupefied, as much as she was able to be made stupefied, at the eerie similarities between it and the Precursor structures of the Eternal.

Charum Hakkor.

He'd seen the images of the Precursors structures, the awe-inspiring orbital arch that were indestructible to all known weaponry.

He'd seen the star roads made of the same light blue white cable like material that laid all across the galaxy and connected stars and planets tens of thousands of light years away.

He stared at the greyish blue coin that was in his hands. It was not the same. Not quite.

However…

It was close.

"How I wish I could speak with you, Merlin" Atticus whispered in mystified awe.

To think he made such a creation without even knowing what it meant…

How many people throughout history had made such startling fledgling re-discoveries that literal god-like beings used to make megastructures that encompassed thousands of light years?

For a moment he regretted destroying the Stone. "Rowena, you would have loved to know about this." He said with a regretful sigh.

He had never really told Rowena the full truth, the fact that there was so much history, awe and mystery out there that they were beginning to understand.

She would have loved to hear of the grandness of the Precursors, the wonder it would have inspired in her that humanity was reborn after having lived for millions of years before…

He could have used her intriguing insight and knowledge. He'd spent three weeks with this coin with no success…

Almost no success.

He breathed out deeply and once more let himself immerse in the streams of magic, the incandescent streams and threads of magic that permeated through the universe were all alight to him.

He stared down at the glowing coin before him, as radiant as a star on the precipice of going supernova.

With a simple gesture of will, he drew his magic towards the coin and it responded, the amethyst and emerald colours of his magic seeped into the Mithril coin like lines of moving paint on a grey blue canvas.

He kept this up for over an hour before he got up and walked towards the weighing device he had made.

He didn't want magic to interfere with any readings so it was completely technological.

He read the chart and saw that it was 92 grams, 14 grams heavier than the first time it was measured.

It soaked up magic like no other and it retained it.

Not without having the coin active though. It needed to be activated, something that took him a while.

He'd used minor blood magic, just to see how it responded, and it was at that stage that it truly began to respond to him.

Unfortunately, it was all that he could discern, for now.

But it was enough, in a way.

He lifted the coin from the weighing device and let it rest in the centre of his palm.

It could be grown.

Like a seed in fertile soil, his magic constantly feeding into it like life giving water, whatever mechanism that converted the energy into mass, into Mithril, within its atomic structure that no technology could identify or even see, constantly put into work.

It would be useful, but not on this miniscule scale.

It made his endeavours to discover to convert other forms of energy into Neurophysical Energy all the more important.

It was why he was doubling down on the Energy courses that Moira marked out for him years ago.

There had to be a way to transform one form of energy into magic.

He clasped tightly onto the coin, his mind going in overdrive as he thought on what Mithril would allow.

All of Illos could be covered by a massive indestructible ward powered by magic absorbed in Mithril.

Thousands of miles of Mithril lines or cables would sit in between the Adamantite structures and the kilometre plus deep soil and waters. Runes would be etched into the cables and lines that would generate the wards that would protect Illos and would have also other wards that would allow him – and law enforcement – to know everything that happens within the boundaries of the wards.

No one but he would be able to control it completely. He loved Emily but he knew that giving her complete control wasn't the best of ideas.

Not until he could completely trust her judgment.

He shook those thoughts away.

Diamond wardstones were excellent but they paled in comparison to Mithril for what could be done.

After all…they could be broken, dismantled.

They were not Eternal.

Not like this coin…not like this seed.

He opened his hand, his eyes once more on the grey blue coin that opened up so many once considered impossibilities.

On top of the technological defensive measures, the shields and the sensors and so on, Illos was going to be a fortress world ship.

One that carried the hopes and dreams of an entire people.

One that was borne out of the mind of a damaged boy who had been reborn with limitless possibilities open to him.

He may not be able to make Mithril yet but knowing it could be done…

Well…

"That is half the challenge" he whispered, his voice teemed with unbridled promises made to a listening universe, his eyes burned with intensity that resembled a wildfire that swept across the dry plains at the height of summer.

A wildfire…

A raging wildfire that held no end to its hunger.

-Break-

1st of June 1943

Damian Greengrass POV

"What time are you leaving?" his daughter asked him a concerned frown on her face.

He looked up from the bill he was working on with the Abbotts that would increase the charges levied on certain goods imported from Ireland. The bloody Irish were increasing the prices on some of the potions ingredients that he imported from them.

It was not a major problem for he could invest in expanding greenhouses on his lands but it was a matter of principle.

Speaking of principle...he did not want to meet with him privately but he knew he couldn't refuse.

"At 10." He told her before he returning his gaze onto the papers. When he didn't hear her leave, he glanced up at her and saw her standing there, biting her lip.

She did that when she was concerned.

"You're worried about nothing. The Abbotts, the Bones', the MacMillan's and the Malfoys were invited personally by Sayre to invite them to his wedding." He told her, his gaze once more on the papers.

It seemed like it didn't assuage her. "What if he knows" she whispered with dread in her tone.

Damian did not look up. It had crossed his mind. How could it not?

But had the boy known, would he have waited all this time?

Damian knew he wouldn't, not if he knew he was far more powerful than the one who had ordered his father's death.

There would have been a blood debt to settle.

"If he had known, we would not still be alive right now" he answered truthfully, gazing up from the papers as his hand went to the glass of firewhiskey.

He took a gulp of it before his eyes resettled on his daughter who looked pale.

He knew it had taken a great toll on her to betray her friend for the sake of the family.

He pitied her in truth and should she come with an acceptable match, he would accept it. It was the least he could do.

"Not even friendship would be enough to stay a hand" he told her as he got up. That was the nature of being nobility.

He walked around the desk and closed the gap between father and daughter. He placed his hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him.

"Why don't you go see Jacob and your nephew, hmm?" he said softly to her. "Little Cygnus would be happy to see you"

A tremulous smile came across her face before she hugged him. "Please be careful father. Atticus is…sharp." She broke off from him, her eyes glazed, lost in memories.

"If you slip up, he will know" she stepped back and walked away, leaving him to his thoughts.

"If he was sharp, he would have discovered your treachery, Nymera" He said quietly to himself before shaking his head. The boy might be powerful but he was still only a boy, no matter if he was a Lord.

He had foolish idealistic notions about blood and society that only boys had.

The Wizengamot had already lost their admiring eyes and now looked upon with suspicious ones. Whilst he may not be advocating for equal rights as many feared he might do as Lord Black had warned them about, it was clear that his speeches of 'advancing' magical society had such undertones.

Had he been an impressionable fool he would have been swept up by the grand speeches that the boy had made in the two of the last four Wizengamot sessions.

Though…that nagging feeling he got at times during those days never left him. As much as he hated to admit it…there were…similarities between the boy and his Lo-…Grindelwald.

He had charisma, no doubt about it but it had a feverish quality to it. As if you wanted to stand up your feet, cheering in a bout of uncontrolled excitement not unlike when a chaser made a once in a life time play in a Quidditch World Cup final.

Grindelwald however could swindle all your wealth from you with but the way he spoke with a choice few words and you'd be happy to do it.

"Still…he's far from Grindelwald" he murmured softly as he adjusted his robes in the mirror that was by the floo. Try as he might, that nagging feeling remained him despite his words that attempted to chase it away.

He arrived at Sayre Manor as he travelled through the floo and glanced around. The familiar low incline of the Sayre reception greeted him though there was no one else there.

He narrowed his eyes at the slight.

He wouldn't fo-

The sudden noises of soft footsteps invaded his ears and he swivelled around, his eyes widening at what he saw.

"Lord Greengrass here to see Master Sayre?" the elf spoke eloquently, startling Damian. The elf was dressed in a pristine black uniform with a pristine silken white shirt underneath his blazer. The elf's gaze unsettling, sharp and not at all submissive.

What kind of elves did the Sayres have?

"Yes" he said finally, regaining his composure and looked at the creature with a stern look. "Where is your master?"

The elf's posture was straight, his gaze unflinching under his stern tone which irritated Damian.

"Master is in the Lord's office" The elf turned on its heels and glanced over his shoulder "Please follow me. I will take you there."

The elf began to walk, leaving Damian agape. He had never been talked to in such a strong tone by an elf before.

His hand twitched. It seems the Sayres did not know how to put their elves into their place.

He'd talk to the boy about this.

It was unbecoming for an elf to dare look at their betters in such a way. He stared at the elf's back and the thought crossed his mind to strike out at the elf.

He widened his eyes for a moment and chastised himself.

'A boy who defeated my former lord' he thought to himself with concern. He could not afford to be anything other than courteous and respectful.

Killing his elf wouldn't do that. Plus…

If he ever discovered his family's role in the death of his father and near capture of his mother…

He follows the oddly dressed elf up the stairs and through the wide spaced halls of Sayre Manor, the opulence nature of the marbled stoned walls and paintings all dedicated to the history of the Sayres caused a deep unsettling feeling to emerge within himself.

He breathed out of his nostrils, avidly employed Occlumency to calm himself. He had stared at the face of a Dark Lord as mighty as Grindelwald himself.

He could face down the young man that was the same age as his daughter.

Finally, they arrived at the door of the Lord's office and were beckoned forth into the room.

Sayre was set behind his desk, seemingly working on something before he looked up, his distinct purple green eyes bored into him and before he knew it, he'd averted his eyes. He tried to pass it on as he looked around the office, the walls were covered with thick books that recognised, many of which were related to Wizengamot business but also saw that it changed very little from the last time he'd been in here.

Memories sprang to the forefront of his mind.

He'd been in here, once. When he'd been a child he'd come here with his father to discuss with Samuel Sayre, the grandfather of the current Lord, terms of a neutral aligned political alliance.

Nothing more than a middling business agreement had come out from it, the Sayre had refused to get involved in politics beyond business at that time.

'How things changed' he thought as he looked back at Sayre.

"Lord Greengrass" the boy said in a smooth cultured tone, his voice deeper than the last time he remembered.

"Lord Sayre" he said respectfully, a slight bow of the head to gesture respect amidst his arrival in a home of a family that was of equal stature to his own.

'Perhaps in name but not in actuality' the grim thought echoed in his mind.

"Please, take a seat" the young Lord said with a small smile on his face.

He'd found the whole situation odd…to invite heads of houses and even their spouses at times just so that they could be invited to the wedding.

It felt like being summoned and it was an uncomfortable thought.

The problem was no one could really refuse…not when he was the man of the century.

Getting married to a lost heir of one of the Founders, an infamous one who now seemed no one had really known considering the diaries that had been published.

It had been a blow to the purist beliefs, especially if what his wife had told him what Lady Max's thoughts were on them.

"I believe that this is about the wedding?" he asked as he sat down.

Sayre chuckled "Yes, yes it is" he said in a gentle smile as he leaned back in the old yet unblemished chair. "My apologies if I have inconvenienced you by sending an invite on such short notice" he said in a charming apologetic way.

He smiled slightly "It is no bother, Lord Sayre." He glanced at the bill on the desk and saw that it was the same one that he'd been working on "We all have our duties but we can make time, sparingly as it might be"

Sayre smiled though it felt slightly off "Yes" he nodded, his hand came forth and began to softly caress against the ancient mahogany desk as he stared at Damien.

"We all have our duties" he said in a sharpened voice, the smile on his face now seemed far more dangerous.

Damien's smile became fixed, the growing unsettling feeling in his stomach was beginning to make him feel ill. He cleared his throat, an act that felt like he was removing a boulder that felt welded to the mouth of a cave "I do not have much tim-"

"You did have plenty of time to help your former Lord though" The smile that Sayre wore was now dark, his eyes bore the marks of burning inferno that cast a shadow down a shadow-less pit.

His mouth felt dry, his heart quickened as the realisation settled in his mind.

"I don't kn-"

"My family was careful, very careful" Sayre spoke over him in a conversational manner, his lips moved but the expression he wore was far from friendly.

"I was very careful." Sayre's eyes became hooded, the air began to feel constricting as Sayre began to exude a pit-less well of magic that brought unwanted, devastating memories back.

"I knew the attack was coming" Sayre said with shiver inducing simplicity as horror began to seep into his bones, his hands tightly clenched so much so it would not be any longer until he drew blood.

"Y-..You knew?" he said with horrified eyes.

"I did. It was why my family did not go public places during that time" Sayre said with eyes that were turbulent, eyes that showed the raging hate that the boy held for him.

The boy leaned forward, the terrifying shadowed face with blinding purple suns for eyes parted its mouth

"Yet one single piece of information, one slip of the tongue to my friend was enough to have lost nearly EVERYTHING" it was spoken with a whisper but it echoed in his mind, and he wanted to curl up in his discombobulated state when the echoes wouldn't stop, as if he was imprisoned within a brass church bell which was hit again and again with a jack hammer.

"You cannot kill me, people know where I am." He whimpered out, that simple fact was the only thing that prevented him crumbling. "If I die, people will know that you had something to do with it and not even the public's love for you can prevent you from being destroyed"

The bells stopped to his eternal relief even if was for a moment. The pressure that was exuded diminished, the terror he felt was slowly receded.

"You used your daughter, her friendship with me against my family" Sayre's voice was now solemn, grim, tinges of nostalgia apparent.

"You are right, I am not going to kill you, Lord Greengrass." He said matter-of-factly, as if killing had never been an option.

What was the point of all this then?

He looked up and saw the hateful eyes staring back at him. He gathered himself despite the fear he felt. "I had nothing to do with that attack, Lord Sayre. You are mistaken and whomever told you so is lying" he said with a firm a tone he could manage. One that did not fool either but that did not matter.

Sayre could not kill him here. He couldn't even do anything to him that wouldn't be picked up by the best healers in the world.

Sayre should not have told him he knew. Sayre could have snuck in an attack in secrecy.

Though he doubted the ability of him to succeed despite all that he'd seen.

He'd invested a massive amount of galleons into the defensive wards of Greengrass Manor, including some not so legal death wards so they would have at least given some amount of time to escape.

They also had many homes all across the world. They could wait him out until he'd come up with a plan. Arcturus Black would not say no if it meant House Greengrass was subordinate to House Black.

It would be a difficult chocolate frog to swallow but if it had to be done to survive…

"I am going to leave" he said as he got up, hoping that the boy would not cause any issues. "I won't press any charges as it is clear you are…unbalanced because of grief and possibly even the war" he said as he straightened out his robes with as much grace as he could muster.

He needed to get out, now.

"But it is clear until you get yourself checked out, House Greengrass will not interact with you" he said with growing strength.

He turned around and quickly made way to the door.

"I wouldn't leave just yet if I were you." The ominous words stopped him in his tracks and he stilled.

"Not when we have much more to discuss"

He turned around and his eyes widened. There was some kind of floating picture that seemed to be slightly see-through.

He recognised the familiar home.

"What?" he said confused as the image seemed to pan out and towards the back of the Manor.

"T-that shouldn't be possible" he spluttered as he unconsciously neared the image.

His heart plummeted and his knees felt weak.

He was staring at an image of his wife, his daughter and his son's family…including his grandson, sitting in the Gardens leisurely conversing with each other under the sun.

"Your wards mean nothing to me" Sayre said and his eyes snapped to the demon boy.

His wand snapped towards his hand "Avad-" Sayre didn't move, he simply stared yet Damien could do nothing but be helplessness under whatever kept him still.

Sayre got up, the desk skidded, loudly, to the side as he walked at a leisurely pace through the strange see-through image and, for the first time, Damien recognised those eyes.

They were different, far more vibrant and colourful but they held the same unsettling otherworldly quality to them that spoke of ones insignificance under their gaze…

…the same kind of gaze that belonged to his former Lord.

The images caught his eyes as they changed and he saw then the futility of it all as one by one, all of his homes were shown to him with crystal clear clarity…even the secret home he'd built a decade ago in Panama.

For the first time in months…

He was afraid for his family.

"You realise it now, don't you?" Sayre's voice was soft and held a melodious quality to it that threatened to strip him bare.

His wand was slowly being pried out of his still hand and began to revolve around Sayre, his eyes never falling away from Damien's.

Finally, he glanced away, a moment's reprieve fell onto Damien until Sayre set his gaze on the moving images of his family that returned much to his dismay. He knew that it was of today because he had seen his wife wear that necklace and dress this morning.

"It's a lovely family. A respectable ancient old pureblood family" Sayre said, each word induced growing dread within the pits of his stomach.

He struggled against whatever restraining magic held him still but it was no avail.

"Mine was complete like this…once" He tried to scream, to beg, to plead for mercy but he could do nothing.

"It was a pain unlike I have experienced. Even now, the grief is strong. And it could have been worse had I not been in time to save my mother" Magic rose in the air like a wave of unforgiving fires rising to consume everything in its path.

Solemn silence permeated the air like a graveyard on a fog covered morning, his eyes prickled with tears as he watched Sayre watch his family with disquieting patience.

Finally, after so long he thought harrowing dread would consume him, Sayre spoke again which would have caused to him to miss that terrible silence.

"There are only a few of us left, Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses" Sayre turned around, his cold amethyst eyes bore down on him like a Nundu stared down at its prey.

"Do you understand?" Sayre whispered as he took a step forward his eyes boring down to his very soul.

He gasped as his head hung down when the magic that restrained him fell away but only on his head and neck.

His breathing was erratic and he managed to lift his head, his eyes full of defeat.

He met the gaze of the monster before him.

He knew that he only had one chance to ensure the survival of his family, the survival of almost two thousand years of history and blood.

He had held unwavering conviction in Grindelwald's righteous cause, a conviction that had put his family at risk the moment he was accepted in the man's circle.

He could do no less than what Grindelwald bade him to do, if nothing else but for the sake and survival of his family.

Just as he could do no less than what Sayre bade him to do.

"I-I do" he said with a tremulous voice.

Sayre's eyes glinted as he leaned forward slightly, his face slightly obscured by the falling long strands of midnight black hair "I See all, I Know all" Sayre said, wisps of power, strands of magic bled through the skin of his face, the soft crackling sounds of his magic echoing in a dread inducing manner that seemed to be ill in tune with his racing heart.

Sayre did not belong on this earth, not with this magic. A primal fear took hold of him, one that screamed at him to obey, to never strike at the outstretched hand of this thing.

His glowing purple green eyes were a wrathful raging storm, promise of annihilation was apparent in them.

"Know that and the House of Greengrass may survive"

Any and all thoughts of disobedience and betrayal was eliminated for he did not doubt that the House of Greengrass would meet its end by the hand of his monster.

-Break-

21st of June 1943

Arcturus POV

Arcturus stared at the glass of firewhiskey, the crackling sounds of the burning woods in the fireplace filling the silence, his hands rotating the glass with slow, careful twists of the wrist.

A knock of the door brought him out of this…therapeutic trance he was in "Come in" he said loudly enough.

"Father?" Orion said with furrowed brows "Kreacher said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes." He gestured towards the seat opposite him "Take a seat"

Orion looked at him for a moment before he did as was asked.

"Father…I did anything wro-" Arcturus raised his hand, halting his son from speaking any further.

"That is to be determined" He said with a gruff tone despite the feeling of unease he felt deep within himself at what he'd have to do.

Orion now looked nervous, concerned where this was going. "If this is about Walburga and I, I-" he stammered as his face grew red with shame and embarrassment.

"I could not care a single thing that you have been…fornicating with your chit of a cousin" he snapped irritably.

It was a lie, he would have preferred Orion with a useful match.

Damn Pollux had demanded that they be betrothed to marry as soon as they finish Hogwarts once the man had discovered they were fucking.

He couldn't deny it, not when it the damned chit demanded it as well.

She was an awful match for Orion but at the same time it may yet prove useful enough to ensure that the family remained together for what may come.

Pollux' line was fruitful and he needed it for the next generation of Blacks for what was to come.

He could only hope Pollux died before the wedding took place, he would not be able to bear to see the man's smug content face without strangling him to death.

"Have you sworn oaths?" He asked, his eyes fixed on Orion who stilled like a Gryphon at night under the light of Lumos.

"Oaths?" Orion asked dumbly.

"Answer the damn question, boy before I rip it out of your mouth!" Arcturus snapped out as he got up and smashed the glass of firewhiskey in the fireplace which bloomed as the liquid caught fire.

Orion reared back startled and shocked but snapped into clarity "N-no father, I haven't! I haven't"

"No oaths of loyalty, no oaths of vassalage" Arcturus pressed, his voice booming as he bore down at his son.

"No, nothing like that!" he stammered out panicked.

Arcturus eyes sharpened "But something like that?" he asked sternly.

Orion swallowed

"I pledged myself to Salazar's heir" he said with a subdued whisper, his eyes cast down and Arcturus felt a pit form in his stomach.

"I see." Arcturus said, his voice dead.

"But it wasn't an oath or anything, I swear Father" Orion tried to say.

Arcturus turned away from his son "You fool…it's never as simple as that when it comes to magic" he said in a tired voice.

Words almost always held meaning in everything a magical said. Vows and promises…pledges may not be constraint by magic like oaths may be but it could have an impact on a person's magic.

Just like misfortune and a life of misery would befall the Secret Keeper if he betrayed those who entrusted him/her with their lives and their Secret. Not many knew of this feature of the Fidulius Charm but they should have realised it.

Magic always required a form of balance.

He snapped his fingers and the room was barged in and he heard Orion slump in his chair.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Cassie with a few of their most loyal men take Orion's sleeping form away.

He clenched his fist tightly.

"It has to be done" Cassie soothed, a serious and solemn expression on her face. "It's not as bad as we thought it might have been but it's still unacceptable"

"Will he still be the same?" Arcturus asked, getting straight to the point.

Cassie smiled grimly "My answer is still the same as it was last time. He will be…different but at his core…" she trailed off for a moment "He will still be the same." She hesitated for a moment and it caused him to snap at her.

"Speak up" he demanded and she gave him a disapproving glare that lacked much bite.

"He might become…withdrawn in some ways." She said finally.

He scowled as he looked away from his sister. What they were going to do Orion…

"Will he even be Orion?" Arcturus asked in a subdued manner.

"Yes. Only not the Orion he was. Most of his memories will remain intact. Only the ones that pose a threat to this family will be removed or altered" Cassie said calmly.

His eyes grew darker. All of it….all of it stemmed because of her.

"Keep me apprised" he said in a clipped tone before he walked out of the office.

They could not allow any lingering loyalty to remain to Riddle, not when she and Sayre posed such a potential threat to everything their family had built.

Sayre continued to make inflammatory statements without care for purposes he did not understand.

His businesses were growing, those Mirror-Phones were all but everywhere now in only a single month.

They could not afford a Trojan Horse within their own family.

He may have damned himself but he would not damn this family.

And one day, one day, he'd have a reckoning with Riddle.

-Break-

29th of June 1943

Nymera Greengrass POV

Her eyes teared as she stared at the cooling embers of the fire that had engulfed her father's body.

She didn't know how long she was stood there.

She knew her brother had tried to get her away but she'd refused, her eyes fixed on the pyre.

She didn't understand…she didn't understand how he could have made such a mistake.

He taught her nearly everything about potions.

To make such a mistake of adding ginger roots in a cauldron mixture intending to be a Head Clearing potion was far too nonsensical.

She had heard and felt the explosion up in her room and she'd raced down the stairs thinking they might have been under attack.

If only…

She would never forget seeing the dying eyes of his face. She'd rushed forward, attempted to heal him but it was too late. Too late but for a single word left for her to hear from her father.

"'Family…'" her father said with his dying breath.

Her eyes closed as tears trickled down her face.

The aurors had found no foul play, only the empty vials of quite a few Mind Clearing and more than a few Wit Sharpening potions. They chalked it up to him overusing and making him too tired to recognise the mistake.

It made sense…logically.

He'd been a little different over the past few weeks, sharper but also sadder but nothing that indicated that he was overusing.

"Nymera" she heard and she almost startled. She turned around and saw that it was Atticus who bore a saddened expression on his face.

"Atticus" she said with a whisper and she stared at him for a good while. She didn't decide to go with Eden and the others to meet up with him, using an excuse that was thin so this was the first time she'd spoken to him in a year.

He'd come today with his family to mark their respects.

She couldn't peel her eyes away from him. His hair was longer, his face slightly thinner, likely losing some of his youthful fat. Still, he was as beautiful as he ever was.

She closed her eyes for a moment and turned away, back at the ashes of her father.

She really didn't like her father for a long time and even despised him at times for what he made her do.

Yet all she could feel at this moment was a hole in her chest.

"Do you remember that night at Malfoy Manor?" he asked her after the long silence, his voice soft and comforting not unlike a warm blanket on a cold winter's night.

"The night you caught me staring?"

"Yes." She said quietly as her eyes grew distant, her memories throwing her back to a time before her life was thrown in disarray.

"You looked at her with a kind of fascination and intensity that I had only seen you do with a textbook of some obscure piece of magic pilfered from the Restricted Sections" she said with a tearful, saddened smile.

A time where there was no betrayal…no feelings of fear and sadness every time she was near someone who she had once considered to be one of her closest friends…

He hummed quietly, more like a soft rumbling that was stuck in his throat. "It was an observation that helped me realise what I felt for her." He said in what seemed to be a tone that held a smidgen of fondness. "I never thanked you for that" he added, his tone containing something she wasn't sure about.

She swayed her head from left to right "It's fine…it's what…" she trailed off unable to finish.

"…What friends do for each other." He instead finished the sentence.

They fell in an uncomfortable silence.

She wanted to confess to say she was sorry. That it was because of her his father was dead but any time she had a trickle of courage, it all died at the base of her throat.

"I never valued the idea of friends…not until you four managed to break through my barriers" He said suddenly, his voice taking on an eerie quality.

She remained deadly still as he continued

"I have always been someone driven by my studies, by my pursuits whatever they may be and yet little by little, Theo, Markus, Eden and yourself managed to break down my barriers until I hadn't even realised we were friends until it was too late" he said calmly but she thought she could get a hint of bitterness in there.

"I know…" she whispered, her eyes once more tearing up. "I was so happy when you truly became my friend."

"So was I." he said and she didn't dare look at him and she closed her eyes, the tears that had pooled in the corners of her eyes trickled down her face.

"It hurt." He said in a cold whisper, breaking the silence and the moment he said it, it was like someone had poured cold ice water down her back.

Her mouth dried up, her breathing became more uneven as she began to hyperventilate.

He knew…

He knew…

She was going to die…she was going to die for her treachery and she knew she deserved it.

She knew then with certainty that her father dying like that was no accident.

Not if he knew

"S-spare my neph-…"

He spoke over her with a detached voice "It was a kind of pain I never thought I'd experience. It paled in comparison to the pain I felt at seeing my father die in front of me but it still hurt."

She swallowed harshly at that momentarily looking away. She felt that pain herself.

"I'm sorry" she whispered.

"I know you are." He said in a kinder tone than she thought him capable of at this time. "I know your father was too." She closed her eyes, firmly, as her bottom lip trembled.

He killed her father and he was going to kill her too.

It was only a matter of when.

She could only bargain for her brother and nephew's life, hope that her old friend still had some amount of mercy for the friendship they shared. "My brother and nephew did nothing…please…" she whispered desperately as she turned to him, her eyes wide and pleading filled with sorrowful tears.

His expression was cold and terrifying and when he looked at her, her breath stilled. His eyes that had always been bright and vibrant, so full of curiosity, were now two hard shards of cool hard calculating orbs that were devoid of any kind of tenderness.

"In a way…I should thank you Nymera. it was a valuable lesson, one that I will carry for the rest of my life." He went into the inside of his robes and brought out a piece of parchment and presented it to her.

She reached out with trembling hands and began to read it.

"No…" she whimpered as she felt the magic within the contract take hold of her. She tried to fight it but she could not.

The only way this could have happened if her father used her blood to sign this.

"Your father and I reached an agreement. One that was considerably less penalising than it could have been." His words held a darkness to it that caused her to look up.

She took a step back when she saw those cold harsh eyes peer down at her. "You had my loyalty, Nymera. A privilege a select few had and will ever have."

"And now you take my free will as punishment for what I helped do?" she whispered brokenly. This contract…it was so much worse than the one that she would been under with Tarquin Selwyn.

She was little better than an elf, her family magic would compel her to comply to every whim.

She saw a flicker in his eye but it disappeared almost as soon as it arrived.

He turned away from her, his arms behind his back and took a step away from her before he stopped, peering over his shoulder, not looking at her. "Your husband to be is a vassal to my House whose loyalty is unquestionable. You will live a good life though it will be a quiet life." He turned his head away from her.

"It is more than you deserve." He said as he began to walk again.

"What about my family?" she asked desperately. "My nephew?" she asked again, louder. "PLEASE!" she sobbed desperately.

She never ever imagined she would be begging her once friend that could be cold yet caring at the same time to spare her baby nephew.

He stopped though he did not turn towards her. "Your family is safe. No harm will come to them. Your father made sure of it." The back of his head tilted slightly "So long as the deal is honoured."

'So long as she did as was told…'

Her mind went back to those long meetings that her brother and father had done for weeks now. Jacob always looked tired after those meetings. Did father do something to Jacob to keep him from doing something that would destroy their family?

"I…I won't make any trouble, I swear this on my life." She managed to say. She meant it too.

She was always going to marry someone she did not really know for her family's benefit even if father had promised her that she would have a choice.

At least in this instance she knew if she did as she was told they would be kept safe.

Despite everything, she knew that Atticus kept his word.

"I know you won't." he turned to her, his eyes cold and distant.

"As the Liege of your owner, I command you to never speak of this encounter and never speak, show or make attempts to divulge information that may be used against me, my family or my allies to anyone but myself. You will never raise an arm, a wand or any kind of weapon against the House of Sayre." She felt the magic constrict her but she remained standing, staring into his cold eyes.

He met her gaze for a moment longer before he turned around and walked away from her, leaving her on her own.

-Break-

Sophia POV

She glanced at Atticus walking away from the Greengrass girl and towards them.

It hadn't been too difficult to separate the girl from the rest of the attendees.

She turned towards the group she'd been conversing with "I'm going to speak with my brother, excuse me" she said with a polite smile, one that fell off as she walked towards her brother.

As they neared each other, Atticus extended his arm and she snaked her arm around it before they locked step and walked towards their mother.

"Is it done?" she asked after a moment, her expression completely neutral.

"It is" he confirmed without emotion.

She only nodded.

When Atticus had told her what the Greengrass family had done she almost wanted to tell him to get rid of the family root and stem.

That family nearly made them orphans.

But…

She also knew that killing Nymera would truly harm her brother.

She knew him. He may seem like he didn't care or was cold but she knew he loved deeply.

And those who earned his love were rare and Nymera…

Nymera had been one of those few.

To kill her would have made her lose a small piece of her brother and she refused to allow the Greengrasses to take more of her family.

And so, she helped with the punishment that would ensure Damien Greengrass would prefer suicide over what they would do if he refused to comply with every single one of their demands.

The Greengrasses will live on but they would never again be free, even if they did not know it.