A/N: Wow! I never expected that kind of response to my dark side. Everyone seemed to enjoy Nightmare and Dreem. My friend Noctem asked me if there was a reason that Dreem's name was misspelled. The answer to that question is simple: Yes there is. I wanted it to be a name, not just a word, so I changed its spelling. Call it artistic license. Ok, time to get into it. This is going to be a fun chapter. In this chapter, we're going to be filling Voldemort in on some of the information that he doesn't have. Now that my dark side has made itself known, I can't seem to stop myself from using it. Have fun reading this. I'm playing with my formatting a little, so this chapter may look a little different than the others. If it works, I'm going to change the others to match.
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Chapter 07: Tea with Voldemort
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"It's strange." John Simons, criminal investigator with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, mused, looking at the parchment in front of him. "Nott was killed in the middle of a crowded street, in broad daylight, and there were no witnesses! We find wand signatures, but we have no records of wand patterns that are even similar to these! Jane! I'm going to see Ollivander." His secretary nodded, and wished him luck.
Ollivander's was exactly how Simons remembered it. It had been a while since he'd entered the store, but it looked like nothing had been moved. For some odd reason, Simons felt like he was in a library. "Mr. Ollivander?" Simons called, bringing the wand maker from the back room.
"Mr. Simons, I presume? Fourteen Inches, Oak, with the heartstring of a particularly strong Dragon, if I remember correctly." Ollivander said, with that look of his that always made Simons feel like he was being x-rayed. "Nothing wrong, I hope?"
"Mr. Ollivander, I was wondering if you'd take a look at this." Simons said, handing Ollivander the parchment with the wand data. "The patterns don't even resemble any cores we've ever seen, so I brought it to you. You are the expert on wands around here. Anything you recognize?"
Mr. Ollivander studied the parchment for a great length of time, before handing it back. "I don't recognize the patterns, although I can give you a few clues as to where to look." He said, opening a rather large reference book. "The wands are not made of wood. It is some sort of unnatural substance that I don't recognize. The core patterns are unfamiliar, but I can tell you that the creature they came from is very large, and powerfully magical. I can also tell you that the creature had been dead for some time before the cores were taken from it."
"How did you come to these conclusions, Mr. Ollivander?" Simons asked, pulling out his notebook. These clues were important, and would help the aurors track down the killers. With any luck, they could catch the criminals before anyone else got murdered.
"Well, these patterns here are meant to represent how the wood from a wand conducts the magic through it." Mr. Ollivander said, pointing to a set of patterns on the left hand side of the parchment. "Normally, the patterns skew themselves, depending on the grain of the wood. These patterns are perfectly uniform, indicating that there is no grain in the wand. Since all wood has grain, the wand was not made of wood."
"And the cores?" Simons asked, as he hurriedly wrote down what Mr. Ollivander was saying.
"Well, as I said before, I don't recognize the particular pattern, but this indicator here points to a very large creature being the donor." Mr. Ollivander said, pointing to a different area of the parchment. "I see that pattern most often using wands made of dragon heartstring. Using those wands, I also see this pattern, which shows me that the cells of the magical creature are no longer alive, but merely infused with magic." Mr. Ollivander paused so Mr. Simons could finish writing. "Phoenix feathers and Unicorn hairs retain life after they're inserted into the wands. The magic of the creatures sustain them. Dragon heartstrings are taken after the beast is dead. The wand core is no longer alive, but since dragons are such powerful magical creatures, the wand core still retains most of its magical properties. That particular pattern is similar to dragon heartstring, but the rest of them are very different. I have records in my shop going back to the time of the founders. I will look through them for you, and see if I can't solve your little mystery for you." Mr. Ollivander looked very excited by the prospect of checking his backlog.
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. Any idea how long this will take? We would like to resolve this issue as quickly as possible." Simons said, finishing his notes, and putting his notebook away.
"Oh, not too long. Probably no more than two weeks." Mr. Ollivander said, pulling more books off the shelf.
"Thank you, sir. I'll be on my way. Send an owl when you have something." Mr. Ollivander nodded. And Simons left the store.
**
"Did you send the invitation?" Harry said, checking his watch. It was ten minutes until midnight, and Harry was standing in the middle of Stonehenge. In front of him was a table, with a tea setting for two.
"Of course I did. And don't worry; he'll be here. I didn't exactly give him a choice. It'll be a real treat to see him flustered." Hermione said. "The owl should have arrived by now, so I'll cast my monitoring spell, and get out of here." Hermione took a crystal out of her pocket, cast a spell on it, and set it on the table. "There we go. Good luck, Harry." Hermione kissed him, and then melted into the shadows, disappearing back to Hogwarts.
**
The intrepid owl flew over the countryside, homing in on the recipient of its message. As she drew closer, the sense told her where to go. She flew in the window of the old house, and down the hallway. In the door, and onto the back of a large wooden throne, covered with carvings of snakes. A skeletal hand with long, spidery fingers reached out and plucked the envelope from the brave owl. It's message delivered, the owl took off, getting as far away from the evil presence as she could, and as quickly as was possible.
Opening the envelope, Lord Voldemort was surprised to see a brightly colored card, with pictures of fireworks and confetti strewn about it, with the words "You're Invited!" printed on it. Opening the invitation he was even more surprised at the words inside.
Tom Marvolo RiddleThe Imperial Dragon Circle wishes to meet with you, regarding certain issues facing the Wizarding world. These issues include the Order of the Phoenix, the Ministry of Magic, and our respective groups. This will be an informational meeting, to bring you up to speed on the situation. After all, we wouldn't want you falling behind, now would we? Details will be following, and it is not necessary to RSVP to our invitation. We look forward to having tea with you.
Imperial Dragon Circle
So, they wanted to meet. Well, he would meet with them, but on his terms. There was no way he would willingly enter a situation that he could not control. As he pondered the invitation, Voldemort began to study it. The outside of the invitation didn't move, although it looked very much like the invitation to a party. Something funny about it, though. Voldemort turned the card over, and looked at the back. There, plain as the lack of nose on his face, was a Hallmark emblem. (A/N: I am American, and have no idea what company is the biggest card manufacturer in Great Britain, so bear with me.) Hallmark? That didn't sound like any wizard company he'd ever heard of.
Pondering that for a moment, Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and he hissed in outrage. The insolent fools had sent him a muggle card! The nerve of these upstarts! He'd show them! Whoever met him would die very painfully, in front of all of his Death Eaters. Voldemort held the letter in one hand, and drew his wand. Pointing his wand at the invitation, he hissed "Incendio!"
Rather than have the satisfaction of watching the cursed muggle paper burn, Voldemort felt a jerk behind his navel, and felt himself being pulled through space. He mentally berated himself for his impulsiveness, and then prepared to meet and intimidate the Imperial Dragon Circle. After all, he was the most powerful sorcerer in the world.
**
Harry's scar began to tingle, and he knew that Voldemort was on the way. He quickly assumed the persona of Nytemare, and threw up his mental shields. The tingle stopped, and Nytemare's mind was completely closed off. He waited for a few moments, and then saw Voldemort appear out of nowhere, and land on his backside with a rather undignified thump. He must have been sitting down when it activated, Nytemare mused. He fought to keep a straight face.
"Ah, Lord Riddle. I'm pleased that you decided to join me for tea." Nytemare said, laughter evident in his voice, although his face was hidden under his hood. Voldemort struggled to stand up, and tried rather valiantly to regain some of his dignity. His back to Nytemare, Voldemort stood to his full height, and turned slowly. Looking at Nytemare, his red eyes glittered with malice, and his body radiated power. To a lesser wizard, the effect would have been terrifying, but Nytemare stood firm, decidedly unimpressed by the theatrics. "You may call me Nytemare, Lord Riddle. Have a seat, and help yourself to tea."
"You will address me as Lord Voldemort, you insolent little mongrel!" Riddle yelled, his voice furious, his hand reaching for his wand.
"I'm afraid that I can't do that, your Lordship." Nytemare responded, completely unmoved. "Flame and Blade would have a fit if I addressed you by the name of their master." Riddle's scarlet eyes went wide, and his lipless mouth opened in disbelief. "Do have some tea, Lord Riddle. Toxis made it extra special, just for you."
Stunned by the new information, Voldemort had been reaching for the tea without thinking about it. However, when the name of the tea brewer sank in, his hand froze. "Convey my apologies to Toxis, but I prefer my own special blend." Voldemort said, as he conjured his own tea. No way would he allow these people to poison him.
"Suit yourself, your Lordship. I will convey the message." Nytemare said, as he poured himself a cup of tea. "Well, let's get cracking shall we?" Voldemort was about to pick up his tea, when the table shook, and both tea cups rattled on their saucers.
"What was that?" Voldemort asked, his scarlet eyes trying to pierce the darkness under Nytemare's hood.
"Sorry about that. I accidentally kicked the table." Nytemare responded. Voldemort used his talent but the answer seemed truthful. Nytemare picked up his tea, and sipped it carefully. "I must ask Toxis for this recipe. It is quite good. Now, you were brought here so that I could explain the situation to you. As you already know, I represent the Imperial Dragon Circle. What we stand for is still a mystery, and I don't intend to give it away. What is important, however, is what we are doing in relation to the other three major powers in the Wizarding world. In our opinion, the Ministry of Magic is too powerful in everyday aspects of our lives, but far from effective when real situations present themselves."
"What are you doing about that?" Voldemort asked. "All I see so far is you killing off my servants."
"We are presenting them with a real problem. This will make them stop prying into our lives on a daily basis, and put their focus back where it belongs. Don't worry, Lord Riddle, your servants are not the only names on our hit list." Nytemare said, his voice showing excitement. Voldemort was calculating, and made no response to this.
"The Order of the Phoenix may fight for a noble cause, but their methods are weak, and their leader is manipulative." Nytemare continued, noting the calculating eyes of the man across the table. "People listen to Albus Dumbledore, and always do as he wishes. He rarely explains his reasons, even to the people affected by his scheming. In many ways, his group is like yours in their devotion to him. They also insist on interfering with things they have no power over. Certain members of that group are also on our list."
Voldemort was still calculating, so he asked a question. "What things are they sticking their nose in? I thought they were only opposing me."
"That is exactly what I'm referring to." Nytemare said, his voice laced with just a touch of venom. "It is known to our circle that you have targeted the Potter boy. Eventually, Harry Potter and yourself will face each other in a duel. One of you will live, and the other will die. The Order seeks to dictate when and where the duel will happen. Previous years have shown that they cannot control the situations Harry Potter gets into, and the battle between yourself and Harry Potter is none of their concern."
"What do you intend to do about them?" Voldemort asked. This group seemed to share his views on many subjects. Perhaps he would be able to convince them to follow him. It was just a matter of manipulation.
"We intend to run them ragged. Push them to the brink of sanity, and keep them there. We're going to make sure that they can't interfere in things that aren't their business." Nytemare said. The bluntness of his statement shocked Voldemort, but it was masterfully hidden.
"Then why not join my group. With our combined strength, we would be unstoppable. All the power you desire could be yours, if you serve me." Voldemort said, his red eyes shining with anticipation.
"Sadly Lord Riddle, your group has been targeted for elimination. You gain power through violence, and the Imperial Dragon Circle will not stand for it. We are going to systematically eliminate your entire support structure, and then utterly destroy you." Nytemare said, his voice betraying no emotion.
Voldemort was furious, but hid his fury behind his next question. "If that's so, why would you tell me your plan? Surely you don't believe yourselves to stand a chance against my power? I assure you, boy, that I am the most powerful sorcerer in the world. You would do well to align yourself with me." Voldemort said, his voice icy, and body once again radiating power. Nytemare remained sitting, and still appeared unmoved.
"I agree with you, Lord Riddle—" Nytemare started, but was cut off by Voldemort.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" He asked. The question was pure curiosity. Nytemare seemed to feel no fear towards the Dark Lord, and refused to address him by Voldemort, but still allowed him the title and respect of 'Lord'.
"Your inheritance, Lord Riddle. The title is yours, as the heir of Lord Salazar Slytherin. The name Voldemort, however, is not yours. In the eyes of magic you are, and always will be, Lord Tom Marvolo Riddle. In the framework of magic, one cannot simply decide on a new name." Nytemare said, taking another sip of his tea. "Which is why the Shadow Masters that you called are not loyal to you. You called them to serve Lord Voldemort, who does not exist in their eyes. So, they are allowed their own ways. We employ them as assassins."
"I wish to meet them. They will obey me." Voldemort said. "I called them, they must obey!" His voice rose in pitch toward the end, so that his last word sounded more like a shriek.
"Perhaps another time, your Lordship. Now, as I was saying, I agree with your position. You may very well be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. However, the assassins for the circle are the six most powerful magical entities on the planet right now" Nytemare said, ignoring the angry gaze of the Dark Lord. It wasn't a lie. Since the six assassins were in actuality only two people, neither of them human, the statement was factual, even if it was misleading.
"Explain yourself, you ingrate! If I'm the most powerful sorcerer in the world, how can there be a more powerful one?" Voldemort yelled, his temper finally besting his control.
"Simple, Lord Riddle. You are the most powerful Sorcerer in the world. Sorcery is not the only type of magic, nor is it the most powerful. Venificus and Toxis are Enchanters. They combine small, separately enchanted objects, and combine the spells, and come up with lovely poisons, and many other deadly objects." Nytemare paused as Voldemort took another sip of his tea, this one much longer than the last few. "Dreem and myself are Technomancers. We combine magic and technology, to kill people in ways nobody ever dreamed of before. We are the ones responsible for Nott's death yesterday. Flame and Blade, as you already know, are Shadow Masters. Not strong spell casters, but powerfully magical, and very violent. You have them to thank for Malfoy and Avery."
Voldemort was shocked. They admitted his superiority, and then turned it into an insult! He finished his tea, and stood, pulling his wand in the process. "I will give you one chance, join me or die." Just as he finished those words however, all the strength in his body seemed to leave him. He fell to his knees, and dropped his wand.
"Oh my word, Lord Riddle. You seem to have taken ill. I knew I shouldn't have used that switching spell to swap your tea and mine. I'm truly sorry. I'll make it up to you someday, provided the poison doesn't kill you." Nytemare said, but he didn't sound at all sorry. "Well, I believe that my point is clear. You, Lord Riddle will die soon. The poison may not do it tonight, but don't get too comfortable with this life, we're sending you to the next one soon."
Nytemare grabbed a small crystal on the table, and disappeared. Voldemort raised his wand using all his strength, and disapparated back to his lair. The dragons would pay for this, as soon as the poison was flushed from his system.
**
Harry and Hermione went to sleep that night, contented and happy. Voldemort was angry at his helplessness, and it would take him some time to regain his magical ability. The poison they used was specifically designed to sap his magic for twenty-one days. No matter what happened tomorrow, nothing could stop their smiles tonight.
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A/N: Whoo! That was the longest chapter I ever wrote! For those of you who don't understand why Harry didn't kill Voldemort in this chapter, I'll explain it. Voldemort has to be killed publicly this time, or nobody will believe he's gone. Another Death Eater can take his place, and continue his work. If Nytemare had done it right then, it would have been wrong from a political standpoint. Ok, now that I've said that I have a question for my faithful reviewers. In this chapter, I changed the spelling of Nytemare's name. Should I keep it like this, and change other chapters, or change his name back to the original in this chapter. Review my story! I love you all!