The Shadowen, the name for the newest, school age followers of Voldemort and his Protégé, Harry Potter, were seated comfortably in the Library of Riddle Manor, reading various books. Harry sat on a couch in the center, his two best friends seated next to him on either side.
"Harry, how did you know?" Hermione asked suddenly, drawing the attention of everyone on the room. They all leaned in to listen.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked absently, leafing through a book on how to properly break someone with the least possible physical damage.
"Why didn't you think we had abandoned you?" she asked curiously. "I mean, you hadn't heard from us all summer, and none of us appeared on your doorstep ready to save you, so how did you know?"
"Dumbledore told him, in a letter, that his mail was not getting through to anyone but him," a cold, harsh voice interjected. Hermione and Ron looked up and their faces paled. Voldemort stood in front of them, his scarlet eyes glittering. "I didn't believe that I would one day have a Weaseley and a Muggleborn in my ranks," he mused thoughtfully, studying the slightly shaking teenagers sitting on front of him.
Bravely, they nodded. "Lord Voldemort," they managed by way of greeting.
He grinned and laughed. "You two have courage, that's for sure. Most others would have fainted or had a coronary by now."
"My Lord, did you want something?" Harry asked politely, his eyes cold as ice.
"Yes, Potter, I do. We have a raid three days time, and I was wondering if your newest recruits would like to join us?" he asked quietly. The real underlying message was 'are they ready?'
"I think, My Lord, that they should train some more and then we shall test them. Those that pass should be allowed to go, while those that either do not wish to or do not pass should stay here as guards."
"Why wouldn't some wish to go?" Voldemort asked, testing him. "Duty to act is the duty of a Death Eater. If they won't act, they aren't worthy of being my followers."
"You can have supporters who dislike torturing others. You can have followers who have not been desensitized to violence. I can name four, the newest and my friends, who would probably not enjoy seeing others harmed. That does not make them not worthy of being Shadowen, but only human. When I first started at the beginning of the summer I hated it. Now, if you had given me the Dursleys to practice on, rather than kill them right away, I would have jumped right into it without a moment's hesitation. Instead, Pettigrew was offered a week into it." Harry went back to reading, his expression closed.
"I should Crucio you for your insolence," the Dark Lord growled.
"You know it has next to no effect on me now, My Lord," Harry said, sounding as if he were bored.
Hermione and Ron gaped at him. "Harry, you shouldn't piss off the most powerful person on the planet," Hermione said in a reproachful undertone.
Draco smirked. "That'll be Potter in less than a decade," he said with mirth. Harry remained impassive while the rest of the Shadowen gaped at him. Hermione and Ron stared at him proudly.
Voldemort stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "And how are you so sure of that, Young Malfoy?" he hissed eerily.
"I overheard you and father talking a month ago. You said that because he was fully your heir magically and the combined blood heirs of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, that no one would be able to stop him. If you taught him to his full potential, he would surpass Merlin." Draco cocked his head to one side, an entirely too innocent expression on his face.
Voldemort glared at him and everyone else, with the exception of Harry, cringed slightly. Draco just stared back at him defiantly and Harry was busy ignoring everyone in favor of his book.
Ron elbowed Harry. "Mate, the Ferret's about to die," he muttered.
"No he isn't," Harry replied in the same tone of voice. "He does this all the time. Lucius and Voldemort are like best friends or something. Voldemort's his Godfather, I think."
Ron and Hermione gaped at him, but at his serious expression, just shrugged and went back to reading. Voldemort stopped glaring at Draco to stare at the two Gryffindor's incredulously. Draco glanced at Hermione and Ron and started laughing. "Only you two would dismiss the Dark Lord as harmless enough to ignore," he muttered.
Harry looked up from his book with exasperation. "Considering that you were the one who was mouthing off, they were doing something smart and being inconspicuous so he wouldn't turn his wrath on them!" He went back to reading, Ron and Hermione staying as quiet as possible.
Voldemort laughed then, startling everyone. "All right, training will commence in thirty minutes. Meet me in the main entrance wearing something that can be messed up and torn."
Three days later, everyone stood in the main hall of Riddle Manor, smoothing Death Eater robes and holding their masks with nervous fingers. Harry stood with Ron and Hermione, reassuring them in low tones. "You don't have to do this, you know," he said softly. "No one will think any less of you. Blaise is staying behind. You could as well."
Hermione glared at him. "Harry James Potter," she hissed angrily, "we agreed to stand with you and we will! Besides, Blaise just found out she's pregnant! The only reason she's staying is because Aaron McKnight would kill her for endangering their child!"
Harry sighed and backed away, raising his voice. "Shadowen, Assemble!" he called coldly. Everyone stopped milling around and strode forward, arranging themselves in ranks. "You know, Dumbledore's Army is now Voldemort's Army," Harry mused with a sadistic grin. Hermione and Ron snickered, and the entirety of the DA grinned back at him just as evilly, eager to begin.
"As you know, we're taking out the Ministry tonight. On Our Lord's signal, we will Floo into the area already secured by Lord Malfoy, the Department of Mysteries. From there, we Apparate in our prearranged groups into different areas of the Ministry, securing the Minister, any remaining Aurors, and the higher ranking Ministry Officials. From there, we will take them to Azkaban Prison, where the Dementors will make short work of them. From there, we will regroup and attack Diagon Alley immediately, our supporters in Knockturn Alley assisting us. Kill those that raise arms against us only!"
Draco grinned and swaggered over. "So, Potter, who do we get first?"
"Aurors, most likely. There're over five hundred of them." He stiffened, a hand clenched over his scar. A minute later, he nodded through the pain, his hands relaxing. "It's time." He distributed the portkeys, muttering "I hate it when he contacts me that way!"
The portkeys took effect, and everyone found themselves in the Department of mysteries. Harry ran a hand over the Veil, his eyes clouded with pain. Sirius, I'm sorry. Your killer has been dealt with.
Bellatrix Lestrange writhed under the effects of Harry's Crutatious curse, her agonized screams echoing off the chamber. Several Death Eaters had to leave, and others looked ill. He grinned down at her sadistically. "I told you I'd get you for Sirius."
He came out of his trance when Hermione and Ron put their hands on his shoulders in sympathy. Even Draco had his eyes downcast and didn't say anything. "Let's go," Harry said brusquely, shaking off any lingering feelings of melencholy.
The Shadowen drew their wands and quietly crept up the stairs. On Harry's signal, they Apparated in their groups and stormed the offices, joining the numerous Death Eaters already fighting. Within minutes, the fighting was over. The Aurors that were still alive were petrified and Apparated to Azkaban. Harry found Fudge personally, hiding in his office under his desk. He hauled the trembling man out by his hair, grinning sadistically.
"You're going to rot in Azkaban for what you did to my family," Harry growled. "That is, before the Dementors Kiss you."
Fudge trembled and promptly wet his pants. Harry girmaced in disgust, causing the terrified man's eyes to roll back into his head and pass out. "Petrificus Totalis," he muttered and them levitated the frozen Minister out of the office, passing several Death Eaters who were just leaning on the walls, talking. Harry navigated around them and then Appatared his package to Azkaban, setting the still frozen Minister inside a stall. As he left, he lifted the curse and listed to Fudge's horrified screams fill the air.
He apparated back, touching his scar as he did so. My Lord, Fudge is in Azkaban. Should we regroup? he asked once he could feel Voldemort's mind open to his.
Yes. Was he any trouble?
Other than the extreme grossness of his being incontinent from fright, no.
Voldemort chuckled. Well, call the Shadowen. This is rather inconvenient, their not holding a Mark. It makes it much more difficult to round them up when you need them.
When we figure out how to call someone without causing them mortal agony, you can mark them, Harry reiterated.
But that takes all the fun out of it! Voldemort protested.
I won't have you causing yet another generation of Death Eaters, especially my Shadowen, undue pain, Harry reminded the Dark Lord. You can have at it to your heart's content when we figure out a way to Mark them without -
Causing them undue pain. I know, I know and I agree with you. The Dark Lord interrupted him, mentally rolling his eyes. I wonder why I don't just kill you for your cheek, boy.
It's my wonderful conversation skills and extreme attractiveness, Harry deadpanned.
Prat. You're ego is bigger than my infernal Godson's.
And you put up with me because I could rule the world singlehandedly, provided I have the right tutelage.
Too true. So, is the Ministry empty of opposition?
Yes, My Lord.
Then I shall gather the Death Eaters and you shall gather the Shadowen. We attack Diagon Alley in five minutes.
Yes, My Lord. I must end this now before my head explodes in agony.
We need to work on this method of conversation.
I'll see you in five minutes, My Lord. Harry ended the conversation, holding a hand to his now bleeding scar, his eyes dulled with pain.
"Draco," he said softly, seeing the blond through the haze his vision had become.
Draco walked over and pressed a clean hankerchief to Harry's bleeding forhead. "We really need to work on that method of communication," he muttered.
Harry grinned shakily. "Our Lord said the same thing," he muttered through clenched teeth. Draco let out a brief snort of laughter and guided him over to Severus, who was overseeing the last of the Ministry Officials being Apparated to Azkaban.
"Severus?" Draco asked, almost fully supporting Harry's weight.
"Yes, Draco?" Severus turned and his face twisted in sympathy. "Oh, my- We need to work on that link of yours, Mister Potter." Deftly, he produced a blue liquid in a small vial and coaxed it down Harry's throat.
Draco chuckled. "We are all in agreement on that."
Harry staggered from Draco, the tightness in his face slowly easing. "Our Lord says five minutes until we attack Diagon Alley. You know the drill, attack hard but only kill those that put up a fight. McNair!" The older man swaggered over.
"Yes?" he said shortly.
"You are to alert our friends in Knockturn Alley. Go." McNair nodded and Apparated.
"Nott!" Another beefy older man walked forward. "Yes?"
"Go to Azkaban and get the Dementors. Forty of them are prepared to attack." Nott nodded brusquely and turned, Apparating in mid step.
Lucius Malfoy strode up the hallway, the rest of the Shadowen and Death Eaters behind him. "Are we ready?" he asked, smirking.
"Let's go," Harry ordered tersely. Immediately, they Apparated.
"Harry, how did you know?" Hermione asked suddenly, drawing the attention of everyone on the room. They all leaned in to listen.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked absently, leafing through a book on how to properly break someone with the least possible physical damage.
"Why didn't you think we had abandoned you?" she asked curiously. "I mean, you hadn't heard from us all summer, and none of us appeared on your doorstep ready to save you, so how did you know?"
"Dumbledore told him, in a letter, that his mail was not getting through to anyone but him," a cold, harsh voice interjected. Hermione and Ron looked up and their faces paled. Voldemort stood in front of them, his scarlet eyes glittering. "I didn't believe that I would one day have a Weaseley and a Muggleborn in my ranks," he mused thoughtfully, studying the slightly shaking teenagers sitting on front of him.
Bravely, they nodded. "Lord Voldemort," they managed by way of greeting.
He grinned and laughed. "You two have courage, that's for sure. Most others would have fainted or had a coronary by now."
"My Lord, did you want something?" Harry asked politely, his eyes cold as ice.
"Yes, Potter, I do. We have a raid three days time, and I was wondering if your newest recruits would like to join us?" he asked quietly. The real underlying message was 'are they ready?'
"I think, My Lord, that they should train some more and then we shall test them. Those that pass should be allowed to go, while those that either do not wish to or do not pass should stay here as guards."
"Why wouldn't some wish to go?" Voldemort asked, testing him. "Duty to act is the duty of a Death Eater. If they won't act, they aren't worthy of being my followers."
"You can have supporters who dislike torturing others. You can have followers who have not been desensitized to violence. I can name four, the newest and my friends, who would probably not enjoy seeing others harmed. That does not make them not worthy of being Shadowen, but only human. When I first started at the beginning of the summer I hated it. Now, if you had given me the Dursleys to practice on, rather than kill them right away, I would have jumped right into it without a moment's hesitation. Instead, Pettigrew was offered a week into it." Harry went back to reading, his expression closed.
"I should Crucio you for your insolence," the Dark Lord growled.
"You know it has next to no effect on me now, My Lord," Harry said, sounding as if he were bored.
Hermione and Ron gaped at him. "Harry, you shouldn't piss off the most powerful person on the planet," Hermione said in a reproachful undertone.
Draco smirked. "That'll be Potter in less than a decade," he said with mirth. Harry remained impassive while the rest of the Shadowen gaped at him. Hermione and Ron stared at him proudly.
Voldemort stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "And how are you so sure of that, Young Malfoy?" he hissed eerily.
"I overheard you and father talking a month ago. You said that because he was fully your heir magically and the combined blood heirs of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, that no one would be able to stop him. If you taught him to his full potential, he would surpass Merlin." Draco cocked his head to one side, an entirely too innocent expression on his face.
Voldemort glared at him and everyone else, with the exception of Harry, cringed slightly. Draco just stared back at him defiantly and Harry was busy ignoring everyone in favor of his book.
Ron elbowed Harry. "Mate, the Ferret's about to die," he muttered.
"No he isn't," Harry replied in the same tone of voice. "He does this all the time. Lucius and Voldemort are like best friends or something. Voldemort's his Godfather, I think."
Ron and Hermione gaped at him, but at his serious expression, just shrugged and went back to reading. Voldemort stopped glaring at Draco to stare at the two Gryffindor's incredulously. Draco glanced at Hermione and Ron and started laughing. "Only you two would dismiss the Dark Lord as harmless enough to ignore," he muttered.
Harry looked up from his book with exasperation. "Considering that you were the one who was mouthing off, they were doing something smart and being inconspicuous so he wouldn't turn his wrath on them!" He went back to reading, Ron and Hermione staying as quiet as possible.
Voldemort laughed then, startling everyone. "All right, training will commence in thirty minutes. Meet me in the main entrance wearing something that can be messed up and torn."
Three days later, everyone stood in the main hall of Riddle Manor, smoothing Death Eater robes and holding their masks with nervous fingers. Harry stood with Ron and Hermione, reassuring them in low tones. "You don't have to do this, you know," he said softly. "No one will think any less of you. Blaise is staying behind. You could as well."
Hermione glared at him. "Harry James Potter," she hissed angrily, "we agreed to stand with you and we will! Besides, Blaise just found out she's pregnant! The only reason she's staying is because Aaron McKnight would kill her for endangering their child!"
Harry sighed and backed away, raising his voice. "Shadowen, Assemble!" he called coldly. Everyone stopped milling around and strode forward, arranging themselves in ranks. "You know, Dumbledore's Army is now Voldemort's Army," Harry mused with a sadistic grin. Hermione and Ron snickered, and the entirety of the DA grinned back at him just as evilly, eager to begin.
"As you know, we're taking out the Ministry tonight. On Our Lord's signal, we will Floo into the area already secured by Lord Malfoy, the Department of Mysteries. From there, we Apparate in our prearranged groups into different areas of the Ministry, securing the Minister, any remaining Aurors, and the higher ranking Ministry Officials. From there, we will take them to Azkaban Prison, where the Dementors will make short work of them. From there, we will regroup and attack Diagon Alley immediately, our supporters in Knockturn Alley assisting us. Kill those that raise arms against us only!"
Draco grinned and swaggered over. "So, Potter, who do we get first?"
"Aurors, most likely. There're over five hundred of them." He stiffened, a hand clenched over his scar. A minute later, he nodded through the pain, his hands relaxing. "It's time." He distributed the portkeys, muttering "I hate it when he contacts me that way!"
The portkeys took effect, and everyone found themselves in the Department of mysteries. Harry ran a hand over the Veil, his eyes clouded with pain. Sirius, I'm sorry. Your killer has been dealt with.
Bellatrix Lestrange writhed under the effects of Harry's Crutatious curse, her agonized screams echoing off the chamber. Several Death Eaters had to leave, and others looked ill. He grinned down at her sadistically. "I told you I'd get you for Sirius."
He came out of his trance when Hermione and Ron put their hands on his shoulders in sympathy. Even Draco had his eyes downcast and didn't say anything. "Let's go," Harry said brusquely, shaking off any lingering feelings of melencholy.
The Shadowen drew their wands and quietly crept up the stairs. On Harry's signal, they Apparated in their groups and stormed the offices, joining the numerous Death Eaters already fighting. Within minutes, the fighting was over. The Aurors that were still alive were petrified and Apparated to Azkaban. Harry found Fudge personally, hiding in his office under his desk. He hauled the trembling man out by his hair, grinning sadistically.
"You're going to rot in Azkaban for what you did to my family," Harry growled. "That is, before the Dementors Kiss you."
Fudge trembled and promptly wet his pants. Harry girmaced in disgust, causing the terrified man's eyes to roll back into his head and pass out. "Petrificus Totalis," he muttered and them levitated the frozen Minister out of the office, passing several Death Eaters who were just leaning on the walls, talking. Harry navigated around them and then Appatared his package to Azkaban, setting the still frozen Minister inside a stall. As he left, he lifted the curse and listed to Fudge's horrified screams fill the air.
He apparated back, touching his scar as he did so. My Lord, Fudge is in Azkaban. Should we regroup? he asked once he could feel Voldemort's mind open to his.
Yes. Was he any trouble?
Other than the extreme grossness of his being incontinent from fright, no.
Voldemort chuckled. Well, call the Shadowen. This is rather inconvenient, their not holding a Mark. It makes it much more difficult to round them up when you need them.
When we figure out how to call someone without causing them mortal agony, you can mark them, Harry reiterated.
But that takes all the fun out of it! Voldemort protested.
I won't have you causing yet another generation of Death Eaters, especially my Shadowen, undue pain, Harry reminded the Dark Lord. You can have at it to your heart's content when we figure out a way to Mark them without -
Causing them undue pain. I know, I know and I agree with you. The Dark Lord interrupted him, mentally rolling his eyes. I wonder why I don't just kill you for your cheek, boy.
It's my wonderful conversation skills and extreme attractiveness, Harry deadpanned.
Prat. You're ego is bigger than my infernal Godson's.
And you put up with me because I could rule the world singlehandedly, provided I have the right tutelage.
Too true. So, is the Ministry empty of opposition?
Yes, My Lord.
Then I shall gather the Death Eaters and you shall gather the Shadowen. We attack Diagon Alley in five minutes.
Yes, My Lord. I must end this now before my head explodes in agony.
We need to work on this method of conversation.
I'll see you in five minutes, My Lord. Harry ended the conversation, holding a hand to his now bleeding scar, his eyes dulled with pain.
"Draco," he said softly, seeing the blond through the haze his vision had become.
Draco walked over and pressed a clean hankerchief to Harry's bleeding forhead. "We really need to work on that method of communication," he muttered.
Harry grinned shakily. "Our Lord said the same thing," he muttered through clenched teeth. Draco let out a brief snort of laughter and guided him over to Severus, who was overseeing the last of the Ministry Officials being Apparated to Azkaban.
"Severus?" Draco asked, almost fully supporting Harry's weight.
"Yes, Draco?" Severus turned and his face twisted in sympathy. "Oh, my- We need to work on that link of yours, Mister Potter." Deftly, he produced a blue liquid in a small vial and coaxed it down Harry's throat.
Draco chuckled. "We are all in agreement on that."
Harry staggered from Draco, the tightness in his face slowly easing. "Our Lord says five minutes until we attack Diagon Alley. You know the drill, attack hard but only kill those that put up a fight. McNair!" The older man swaggered over.
"Yes?" he said shortly.
"You are to alert our friends in Knockturn Alley. Go." McNair nodded and Apparated.
"Nott!" Another beefy older man walked forward. "Yes?"
"Go to Azkaban and get the Dementors. Forty of them are prepared to attack." Nott nodded brusquely and turned, Apparating in mid step.
Lucius Malfoy strode up the hallway, the rest of the Shadowen and Death Eaters behind him. "Are we ready?" he asked, smirking.
"Let's go," Harry ordered tersely. Immediately, they Apparated.