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Harry Potter And The Game of Death

Level 1

Chapter Twenty: Of Plans and Machinations

In a dark and dreary place there stood a house on a hill. Abandoned for decades, it was a decrepit and run-down relic of an older era.

Wooden shutters flapped loosely in the wind. And what few windows still had glass were so encrusted with dirt that it was impossible to see what lay on the other side.

"Servant! Attend to me."

From his threadbare bed on the floor, Wormtail grimaced at the sound of his master's shrill voice. He did not want to obey. But disobeying was not an option one took with the Dark Lord.

With a groan, he stood and began to walk. The wooden slacks creaked under his feet as he returned to his master's room high within the mansion

Shivering in the cool night air, he entered what had once been the master bedroom. Rotted furniture filled the room, giving it an air of rot and decay. A feeling only made worse by the wrinkled, shrivelled claw the size of a child's hand which reached out from a baby's manger.

The claw moved, beckoning him closer.

Wormtail gently grasped it with both hands and gave it a servile kiss, forcing the revulsion he felt at the act to the back of his mind. "I am here, my master," he rasped, throat still raw and aching from when his master had punished him for a minor failure earlier that evening. "What is your will?"

A hissing sound, more akin to a serpent's sound than a human voice, came forth in reply. "Wormtail. I wish to know the status of tomorrow's operation. Have you finished making the necessary preparations to rescue your fellow servant from his imprisonment?"

"I have, master. The guard on your captive servant is lax; with his father handling preparations for both the World Quidditch Cup and the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Crouch Sr. has not been able to properly manage the wards on his home. Once I use your ring to neutralize them, I should be able to easily knock out the lone House Elf tasked with your servant's care."

The clawed hand left gently stroked Wormtail's pale flesh, its owner seemingly pleased with his words. "Excellent. Yes, yes. That is excellent news indeed."

Wormtail made sure to properly bow his head in thanks before he replied. "Thank you, my dark master. Though I do not deserve such words of praise, since all has been done according to your brilliant plan. Without it I would be useless."

An acerbic chuckle rose from the crib at his reply. "Indeed. It is good that you know your place. Never forget, Wormtail, that without my guidance you never would have made it this far."

"Yes, my master. Thank you, my master."

"Ah, but know this, my servant. Though I am quick with the whip and intolerant of failure, I am also generous with my gifts for those I find worthy. I will remember all you have done in service to me while I was weak. And when I am returned to my strength in full, I shall bestow upon you an honoured place among your fellow servants."

A feeling of euphoria rose within Wormtail at those words. Dreams of being at the Dark Lord's side, of torturing his former friends Remus and Sirius, of killing all who had once belittled him, filled his mind and caused his heart to beat fast. But Wormtail pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind when his master began to speak once more. That was the future. And the future, as he had learned the hard way, was rarely so pleasant as he dreamed.

"But we can discuss this further upon your return. This body requires its next dose of elixir. Fetch it at once."

Obeying his master's command, Wormtail scurried over to a nearby cabinet. Large and sturdy, it was one of the few items within the house that was still intact. He opened the cabinet's doors and drew out a small vial with shaking hands.

Making sure to avoid spilling so much as a drop of the viscous green liquid it contained, Wormtail made his way back to the manger. He held his breath as he pulled out the stopper; the tonic within was poisonous to the living, and even its fumes could bring irreparable harm if breathed in. Then, with great care, he placed the vial's opening to the distorted, fleshless lips of his master's rotting form.


As was his wont, Remus Lupin awoke early the morning after Harry's welcoming party. He performed his morning ablutions with practised ease, trimming the stubble on his face with a wave of his wand and setting his hair in order just as easily. When done, he dressed himself in a nice linen shirt and complimenting pants, before making his way to Harry's room.

He opened the door a crack to peer inside.

The drapes were tightly shut, not allowing so much as a single ray of light to enter. While a shapeless, silent lump lay still within the bed, with only a mop of unruly black hair sticking out to suggest that it was Harry. The boy's clothes, meanwhile, were scattered around the room. A sign, perhaps, that he was more like his father than his mother when it came to organization.

A soft hoot from the boy's snowy owl soon greeted Remus' intrusion. The animal's golden eyes gleamed in the darkness as she studied Remus from its position above Harry's head, sharp talons dug into the bed's wooden mantle.

Not wanting to wake the sleeping boy or to disturb his guardian animal any further – and what a surprise it had been to learn that the two shared an actual Familiar bond – Remus softly closed the door and made his way down to the kitchen.

Once there he placed a kettle onto the stove top to boil some water while he busied himself with making a light breakfast of scones and eggs over easy. Minutes passed in comfortable silence as he went about the familiar activity.

Ding!

Party Member Sirius Black Has Awoken

Would You Like to Send a Message?

Yes or No

Remus gave a start as the unfamiliar noise and text popped up in front of his eyes. His hand slipped, causing the brace of eggs he had been cooking to fall onto the floor instead of sliding onto his readied plate.

Giving a slight 'tsk' of annoyance at the waste, the werewolf took out a fresh brace of eggs and cracked them into the pan to begin anew.

After studying the strange message and using what Harry had told him about it as a frame of reference, Remus pressed 'yes' on the strange notification. Using the resulting display he deftly composed a simple message to Sirius, notifying the man that breakfast would soon be ready

A muffled bang sounded shortly after Remus selected the 'send' option.

Laughing as his old friend began to curse like a sailor at the Game's unexpected notification, Remus finished cooking the eggs and plated them with ease once they were finished. He then plucked a fresh scone from the oven tray and sat down to tuck into the simple yet delicious meal.

Only when he was half finished and fully awake did Remus do as Harry had instructed the night before and call up his 'Game' stats.

Remus Lupin

Remus is a man tortured by his own sense of guilt and remorse, often over things which are beyond his ability to control. As a young man, he constantly worried over whether he was worthy to have friends such as James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. As an adult, he often thinks about the deaths of James and Lily, trapped by thoughts of how he might have possibly prevented the tragedy which tore them away. (See Character Page for further information)

Age: 33

Werewolf

Marauder

Level 266

Stats:

STR: 93

DEX: 96

CON: 84

INT: 668

WIS: 445

CHA: 181

Traits:

Loyal

Survivor

Dedicated

Downtrodden

Former Prankster

Werewolf Form

Battle Hardened

Half-Blood

Penny Pincher

Expert Duellist

Transfiguration Adept

Charms Adept

Arithmancy Adept

Ancient Runes Adept

DADA Adept

Mental Arts Initiate

Renaissance Man

Educator

Remus stared at the 'stats' which had been revealed by Harry's strange new ability. While not fond the description it had given him, the academic in him found it quite fascinating.

According to what the boy had said, Remus' level was the highest that he had seen. Meanwhile, most of Remus' attributes – which apparently governed how well a person performed on both a physical and magical level – were also quite high, something which had made Harry quite happy. The only thing which had brought the boy down somewhat was when the Game had told him that due to the level difference between them, no experience gains – which apparently equated to gaining levels and thus greater strength– could occur until the party was disbanded, outside of the completion of something called a 'quest'.

Remus had merely given a shrug at the news. He had never been focused on personal achievements in the past and the prospect of rapidly increasing his strength did not hold much of an appeal. If it had, then Remus felt that he would have followed the examples of many other werewolves and turned to the Dark Arts ages ago.

But that was a thought for a different time and place. Content with his lot in life, Remus mindlessly munched on a bite of his egg as he considered the rest of what Harry had said to them the night before.

After the boy had gotten over his disappointment over the experience issue, Harry had launched into a detailed explanation regarding how levels worked. And that, while they were not a direct correlation, they were useful in a general, 'rule of thumb' manner when it came to judging a person's abilities.

The higher a person's level the stronger they were. Though exceptions did exist, such as if one person had traits which added additional points to their attributes. Or if they had traits which removed points. All of which both Remus and Sirius had found quite confusing.

The whole thing seemed to be a dizzying quagmire of complexity which only grew worse the longer Harry spoke about it. So rather than attempt to understand the whole of it in one sitting, Remus had narrowed his focus and concentrated his questions on a single topic. Traits

Some – like the werewolf related traits – were apparently created by actions that someone else had taken towards Remus. While others, like the Adept traits, were created due to Remus' own actions. A fact which had thrilled him as it allowed Remus to gauge his own progress on the path of learning. Properly evaluating one's own strength and abilities could be quite difficult, so to have a tool capable of doing so on a whim was rather incredible.

Swallowing his bite of egg, Remus used a finger to leaf through the various titles and traits that the Game of Death claimed were attached to him.

Werewolf:

A witch or wizard who bears this title has been cursed with Lycanthropy. A snarling, slavering monster will forever dwell within their body. And come every full moon, the affected person will lose all sense of reason and transform into the beast within. Gives an automatic increased sense of smell and sight when not transformed, a heightened desire to consume meat, +5 to all physical attributes, -1000 relationship points with anyone who bears the Pureblood Sympathizer or Creature Phobia traits, and -10000 relationship points with anyone who bears the Pureblood Supremacist or Creature Hater traits.

Marauder:

This title is different from the trait, which denotes a person who commits acts of violence on people and their property. The Marauders were a group of four schoolboys who played pranks together while they went on adventures. Gives an automatic +1 to all attributes, +5000 reputation points to anyone with the Prankster trait, and -1000 reputation points with people who bear rule abiding traits.

Downtrodden:

A sapient creature with this trait has had bad things happen to them throughout their life, and it has begun to sap away at their will. They are more likely to become withdrawn and will often look at anything good that happens in their life with a sceptical eye. Gives an automatic -20 to both of the mental attributes and Charisma. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Former Prankster:

A person with this trait was once the type of person who enjoyed playing jokes on others. As they have aged, though, other responsibilities have taken centre stage. They still know how to have a good time but are okay with not being the centre of attention. Gives an automatic +40 to charm and +5000 reputation points with current or former pranksters. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Werewolf Form:

When a witch or wizard afflicted by Lycanthropy transforms, they turn into a creature that is a cross between a man and a wolf. They cannot use magic while trapped in this form, but gain a massive boost to their physical attributes. Gain an automatic +200 to all physical attributes, the trait Lesser Magic Immunity, and the ability to infect other humans with Lycanthropy while the transformation is active. This trait cannot be removed or changed over time.

Penny Pincher:

This person has had to take a budget and stretch it. Some might call them tight-fisted, while others will bow down in awe of their skill. Gives an automatic +10 to both mental attributes, and -5 to the charisma attribute. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Renaissance Man:

Any person with this trait has led an odd and varied lifestyle. They learn new skills more easily than others and have a balanced outlook on life. Gives an automatic +1 to all attributes, +10% learning speed for new skills, and +500 reputation points with anyone they meet. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Expert Duellist:

A witch or wizard with this trait has been in a great number of magical fights. They learned the theory, practised their skills and then put them to the test in the real world. Gives an automatic +20 to both mental attributes, +10 to the charisma attribute, +5 to the dexterity attribute, and temporary +30 to both mental attributes and charisma when fighting against a hated opponent. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Educator:

The bearer of this trait has devoted a large portion of their time, energy, and life to educating others. Gives an automatic +50% ability to help others learn spells or theory in the educator's chosen field of expertise, +1000 reputation points with any other who bears an Educator trait, and -1000 reputation points for anyone with the Ambitious trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Mental Arts Initiate:

A wizard or witch with this trait is skilled in the use of both Occlumency and Legilimens. They know the subject on a functional level and are capable of using it to minor effect. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Transfiguration Adept:

A Witch or Wizard bearing this trait has gone far on the path to mastering the art of Transfiguration. The trait gives a 50% increase in the speed of learning any spells or rituals in the Transfiguration School of Magic, +30 to both mental attributes, +20 to charisma, and +1000 reputation points with anyone who has mastered a school of magic. The attribute and reputation bonuses are only applied once; additional areas of Adept level only grant the increase in spell learning bonus. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

It was quite the assorted and varied collection. One which differed greatly from Harry's. Remus chalked his abundance of traits up to the odd and varied lifestyle he had lived; being forced to find ways to survive on the fringes of society had forced him to grow as a person, while the actions and trials of his youth had left marks for both better and worse.

As he sat and ruminated on the traits and thought about what he would seek to do with them, a certain dark-haired friend of his staggered into the kitchen.

"If you ever do that to me again after a night of drinking, Moony, I swear by Merlin's arse that I'll wear your pelt as a fur coat." Sirius' red rimmed eyes stared at Remus in a bleary glare. "Dammit man! Do you know how much I drank last night after Harry went to bed? My head already feels like it'll crack open at the slightest sound. Then you go and send me that… that stupid message thing which bursts into my brain with all the grace of a tribal drum!"

Remus ignored his friend's whining and gestured towards the stovetop. "Breakfast is ready; you should eat while its still hot. And as you might remember there're a few hangover potions in the third cabinet on the left. I'd recommend taking two of them if you're feeling as bad as you look."

"I'll tell you what you can do with that breakfast, you mangy furball," Sirius mumbled darkly. But rather than follow up on it, the dark-haired man stumbled his way towards the cabinet Remus had pointed out. Once there, he opened the door and began to rummage inside of it like some kind of giant, demented squirrel, only stopping when he had had retried three hangover potions from within. He uncorked the vials and downed them in quick order.

That done, Sirius made his way over to the stovetop where he plated his meal. The warm food Remus had put effort into cooking was mindlessly shovelled into the wizard's maw with all the grace of a dog eating from a bowl as Sirius made his way back to where Remus sat.

Several minutes later, a great shudder ran through Sirius' body. He gasped, and with an effort that would have made his canine form proud, shook his head and mane of dark hair.

When he next opened his eyes to look at Remus, the dark-haired man's formerly bloodshot gaze was clear-eyed and energetic.

Remus took a sip of his tea and smiled. "So, my friend, have you finally returned to the realm of the living? Or do you still feel like keeling over at the first sign of a faint breeze?"

"Just give it a hush already," Sirius said in a low growl. "You've been in that exact same position more than once, so I don't want to hear anything."

Remus shrugged. "True. But I don't have much sympathy for you at the moment. As you might recall, we did agree to wake up early so that we could go over our plans for training Harry."

"Ah… yeah, we did say something like that, didn't we?" Sirius mumbled. He scratched his head and had the graciousness to appear somewhat contrite. "Well then. I'm here now. And thanks to the potions I should be good to talk."

"Then let's start with the Acromantula in the room." Remus gave a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Knowing what we do about this… Game of Death… I think we need to overhaul the plan entirely. Because while much of it is still valid, this special ability of Harry's opens several new avenues of consideration."

Sirius gave a derisive snort. "That's a helluva understatement there, old pal. By Morgana's saggy tits, Remus, why do you think I drank so heavily last night? Thinking about Harry being connected to an entity that calls itself Death is terrifying! Let alone with how much power it's given to him with this Game thingy. Stuff like that don't happen without someone paying some sort of price, and I'm man enough to tell you that I'm frightened to learn what that price might be."

Remus gave another sigh at his friend's words. The two of them had stayed up talking well after Harry had gone to bed. And though Remus had been fascinated by the Game, both functionally and conceptually, Sirius had been downright manic in his worry over it. While growing up in the House of Black, the dark-haired wizard had heard rumours of entities giving such abilities to other mortals. And from what little the man remembered, such abilities never boded well for their possessors.

But other than contacting Dumbledore and asking for the man's thoughts on the matter, neither one could think of any action they could take on the matter. So they had written a letter, sent it off, and tabled the discussion until they heard back from elderly wizard. After which Remus had gone off to bed and Sirius decided to drink.

But now it was the morning, and Remus had had a chance to think things over.

It was a unique tool. One that could allow the boy to make great strides in his future studies, but only if used properly. And given that the Game had thus far been rather benign in operation, Remus felt that they needed to focus on using it to help Harry.

Remus said as much to Sirius, who gave the idea a slow nod of grudging acceptance.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I guess that knowing what the boy is capable of – and having a detailed readout of how his abilities stack against our own to boot – does mean that we can increase the tempo of his training and better tailor it to suit his needs." Sirius took a sip of his tea while he mulled over his next words. "Y'know, despite my worry about its long-term effects, with this thing's help we might be able to get the kid up to the level of a Seventh year Hogwarts student by the time his fourth year begins."

"Erm, no. I think that's taking things a little too far, Sirius. Harry might have more power packed into his body than all but the strongest of Seventh years, but the boy still doesn't have the theoretical or practical foundation in spells that the more advanced material would require."

"True, true. So reaching the level of a Seventh Year is out. But we can still aim higher than we initially thought. Our previous plan called for a lot of grunt work; you know, peeling potatoes with your wand, keeping a room set to a cool temperature even with a roaring fire in it, that sort of stuff. But with this Game of Death thing we can skip past all that and go straight to the good stuff!"

Remus frowned. "Like making things go boom? And turning someone else into a chicken?"

"Exactly! As far as I'm concerned, that's the best thing about this damn cat's paw that's been forced on him." Sirius paused for a second. "Oh. And, uh, that neat ability to gather information on people around him, too."

Remus felt his frown deepen in disagreement with Sirius. As an educator, he believed that a strong grasp of the fundamentals is what ensured a person's success in their future endeavours. Whether it was in magic or in everyday life, a person's grasp of the fundamentals was key to their success. The power of the Game of Death was not in dispute, but Remus was wary of using it to skip the normal growth process that was generally so vital to success.

But on the other hand, this was Harry. The son of their old friends, both of whom had been brilliant and talented, and a boy who had already suffered more encounters with Dark wizards and creatures than most trained Aurors. To think that those attacks would end just because he started to live with Remus and Sirius would be the height of folly.

From that perspective, equipping the boy with the knowledge and tools necessary to anticipate and defeat future attacks would only be logical. Even if the methods to do so went against the norm.

Remus leaned back in his chair as he thought it over. Sirius, blessedly silent for once, gave him the time to do so and continued to devour his meal.

After a several minutes of weighing the pros and cons, Remus eventually raised his head and nodded. "Agreed, Sirius. Let's amend the plan, with the new goal being to get Harry to acceptable levels in duelling, theory, and magical history; after seeing how Binns has only gotten worse over the years, I'm worried about the boy accidentally saying the wrong thing to a Goblin and getting himself killed. Or not knowing the difference between Grindenwalds war and the one that preceded it."

"Ooh, yeah. I can see that happening." Sirius gave a shudder as he thought back to the mistakes he had made when using Binns' outdated and biased information. "Oh. What about his physical conditioning? Do you think he can join us for our stuff?"

"Probably. I was concerned at first considering his size and what little I had gleaned of his life with the Dursley's during the summer. But considering how high his physical stats are according to the Game and how good he is at Quidditch, I think it should be fine to push him harder than we initially thought."

"Great!" Sirius crowed, flinging his arms into the air and sending bits of food scattering from the fork held in one of his hands. "D'you think we can add in silent spell casting too? That'd give the boy a major advantage in any fight he got in since no one would expect a kid his age to be capable of it."

Remus shook his head. "No. At least, not at this time. Harry might be able to pull it off by the end of summer if that's all he focused on, but I would rather we concentrate on getting his other skills and abilities boosted to higher levels before we bring that in."

"Awww… but why? It'd be so cool! And useful too!"

Remus did his best to hold back yet another sigh at his friend's stubborn enthusiasm. "Because, Sirius, the reason why we usually wait to teach silent spell casting to upper years at Hogwarts is because it takes both greater stores of magical energy and greater levels of focus to cast a spell silently. While Harry has demonstrated immense power, as well as the ability to focus during tense situations, the boy's overall ability to concentrate could still use some shoring up. For the children in his age group I would say that only Ms. Granger and Ms. Greengrass would have any hope of achieving it in the span of time we have before school starts. Ms. Lovegood as well, but she is a year behind him, and somewhat of a unique case as it were."

"Damn. Well, there goes that idea." Sirius was visibly disappointed at having his idea quashed. "I guess I'll just have to settle for the good ol' verbal jousts and go easy on him for the time being. Although I will teach Harry to start whispering his spells instead of shouting them."

"Agreed. I love his enthusiasm, but gaining a dose of subtlety would really help him out."

With the general outline of Harry's summer training regimen agreed upon, Remus and Sirius set themselves to working out the details. And after an hour of effort, the rough outline of a plan had taken shape.

They figured that Andromeda would be willing to help Remus with the theory and history portions; the woman was brilliant and one of the most well-informed people in all of Magical Britain. Meanwhile, between Remus, Sirius and Dora pushing the kid in mock duels and practical exercises, the boy's practical abilities should skyrocket. They were already heads and shoulders above his classmates, but should be the equal of any Seventh Year by the time Hogwarts started.

By the time Harry made his way down the two men had moved onto planning other, more enjoyable things, such as shopping trips and fun excursions. Remus cooked the boy a light breakfast of his own and the three of them settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of the birds fluttering outside of the kitchen window.


Meanwhile, roughly a hundred miles or so north of the Cottage, a meeting was taking place at Hogwarts in the office of the school's Headmaster. The portraits of previous Headmaster's and Headmistresses, hung on the walls, looked down at the two men. While the many gadgets and gizmos invented by the room's current holder whizzed and whirled.

Inscrutable in expression and neatly dressed in the latest Pureblood fashion, Lucius Malfoy sat primly before Dumbledore's desk. The man's perfectly coiffed hair was as oily and unctuous as usual. Which fit perfectly with his expression as he looked around the office, a look of poorly hidden disdain writ clear on his features. "I see that your poor sense of décor has not changed in the past year, Albus. I mean really, what is it with all these strange things? They look like something a Muggle might have."

"Ah, you have a keen eye indeed, Lucius. I have found many an inspiration in the devices they come up with, and have often sought to adapt them using magic. I could recommend some select reading if you are interested."

"I think not."

Dumbledore eyed the man as they settled into a tense silence. He had made the offer knowing that it would most likely be refused. After all, Lucius Malfoy was a man who embodied many of the traits which Salazar Slytherin had found most desirable: ambition, talent, and an unwavering adherence to the ways of tradition. Which, while neither evil nor bad on their own, could easily lead an individual down the wrong path if not balanced with other virtues.

But Lucius had chosen not chosen the path of temperance. And when combined with his strong proclivity to the Darker side of magic, those traits of his made the man a danger to any who were good and true. With the many crimes he had committed, both on his own and as a member of Tom's twisted group of followers, standing as a dark testament to this fact.

Albus would have loved little more than to see Lucius brought to justice and given a chance to take the path of repentance. But such was not to be. Not on this day at least.

No. On this day it was Lucius who held the upper hand. The subtle sneer on the man's handsome features indicated that he knew it too. Just as the smug way he had entered the room and sat down without first announcing his presence had served to set the tone for this impromptu meeting.

The platinum haired man placed his gentleman's cane across his lap, keeping one hand on the pommel of his hidden wand. "I hear that you recently made a trip to St. Mungo's late in the night. I trust that you remain healthy? If not, it would be my duty to call a meeting of the Governing Board to discuss finding your replacement."

Albus inclined his head in reply. He was not surprised that Lucius had learned of the trip. But the man was fishing for information; there was no way he could have known exactly what Albus had been doing at St. Mungo's that night. Lucius was merely using his current business, undoubtedly on Minister Fudge's behalf, as an excuse to poke and prod a man he despised.

But Albus was no stranger to such machinations and had more sources of information at his disposal than Lucius. Perhaps this would be a good time to remind the man.

"But of course. There is no need for either you or the Board of Governors to be worried. I am blessed to have the energy of a man half my years. If the spirits are willing, I might even live to see your own grand-children walk these hallowed halls." Albus gave Lucius a genuine smile as he prayed for a golden future for those yet unborn children. "Though that reminds me, how is young Draco doing? Is he getting along well now that he is home with you and Narcissa?"

Lucius' left eye twitched at Albus' subtle barb, a slight crack in the man's artful mask of disdainful civility. He pursed his shut lips and nodded his head stiffly.

For all that the comment had been made with genuine curiosity as to Draco's wellbeing, Albus had also made it in full knowledge of Lucius' impending divorce. Being Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot made it quite easy for certain bits of information to come his way, and Albus had been aware of Narcissa's petition to dissolve her marriage to the man for the past year.

"Thank you, Headmaster, but your concern is unwarranted," Lucius gruffly replied. "Draco is a fine boy, as always, and he has a splendid relationship with his family. I anticipate that he will be amongst the top students of his year this coming semester should he complete the summer curriculum I have assigned to him."

"Ah. That is pleasant news indeed, Lucius." It was not, though, as it most likely meant that the young boy was being drawn further into the Dark Arts. "Thank you for informing me. It is always good to hear that a student is thriving as part of a loving family."

Lucius' eye twitched again at the veiled comment.

"Quite," the man stated perfunctorily. "In any case, I believe it is time we got down to the point of this meeting. You see, I have come here today at the personal request of Minister Fudge to discuss official Ministry business with you. It should not take long, but there are several rather important matters which do require… stressing."

Albus held in a sigh as he nodded his head. His assumption was proven correct. Cornelius Fudge had never been the sort to forgive even the smallest of slights and crossing him over the matter of Sirius's wrongful incarceration had been a very large matter indeed.

Why, the latest morning edition of the Daily Prophet had run an entire expose on how thin the current Auror budget was, while also raising further questions regarding the Minister's commitment to the safety and security of his nation. Questions which had placed the Minister on the defensive at a time he most wanted to project strength, what with the upcoming World Quidditch Cup.

Lucius fondled the pommel of his cane as he gave a sneering smile. "You see, Albus, your voice on many matters has become unwelcome. As the Minister's Undersecretary made clear to you at the last meeting of Britain's representatives, you have been removed as the head of all matters concerning the upcoming Tri-Wizard tournament,"

Albus nodded. "Indeed. I do remember Dolores mentioning that. Though I believe that I am still to be involved due to my position here at Hogwarts."

"Certainly. As Headmaster of Hogwarts you will, of course, still be asked to help the Ministry coordinate all matters on the ground. But beyond serving as a glorified administrator to be charged with carrying out your orders exactly as instructed, you are to have no further input as to the tournament's composition or execution."

"And what of the matters previously decided upon prior to my removal?"

"All matters previously sent to and agreed upon by the full international committee will remain intact. Any other matter – such as those still in discussion at the delegate level – will be undergoing a review by Bartemius Crouch and myself in the coming months. And we have been given the Minister's full blessings to proceed at our own discretion in determining whether to keep them intact or if changes should be made."

Albus did his best to hide a grimace at the statement. While not the worst-case scenario he had imagined, it was still quite bad. There had been multiple important provisions – on everything from the exact composition of the tasks to the age of potential champions – which had yet to be agreed upon by the full international committee. And considering that he had been the one pushing for more conservative, risk averse structures, it was exceedingly likely that the tournament would go in a far more deadly direction than Albus had wished.

"With that being said," Lucius continued, "I was also asked to inform you that all future communication you may have with the ministry officials involved in organizing and executing the tournament must go through me. While Bartemius has been tasked with handling things concerning our international partners, it is I who has been asked to handle things on the domestic side."

A small smile graced Lucius' features as he said that last bit. The man had spent years angling for such an important position, and to have it come at a moment when Albus' influence seemed to be retreating was undoubtedly gratifying to the man. And given Lucius' immense talents in deception and manipulation, Albus could see the beginnings of a dark cancer growing within the heart of the Ministry.

One which could easily grow malignant should Albus' growing fears regarding Tom's impending return be proven true.

Lucius shifted his gloved hands around in his lap before he continued to speak. "Now, the final item which you need be informed of is that I will be maintaining my position on the Hogwarts Board of Governors during this period of time, just as you kept your position as Headmaster while working with the committee previously. As a result, I will also be taking over the duty and responsibility of informing the board in regards to the tournament. Your valuable services are no longer needed in that area, although you are welcome to continue attending the official meetings in your role as Headmaster of the school."

Ah. So the man thought to sway the board's members by giving them biased information? A simple enough matter to counter, but one which would suck up precious time and energy. "Thank you, Lucius. You are most kind."

"Indeed I am." The pale man gave a polite cough into his hand and met Albus' eyes with an unctuous smile. "I believe that covers everything. Do you have any questions before I depart?"

Albus laced his fingers together as he considered the man's words.

On the surface of things, the whole matter reeked of a political vendetta. Knowing of Albus' concerns for his students and their wellbeing, Cornelius was no doubt hoping that Albus would try to raise a fuss over the matter. In which case the minister's usual response would be a character assassination, followed by an attempt to remove Albus from any remaining positions of power he currently possessed.

If that still did not net Cornelius his desired result, then the attacks and persecution would branch out to those closest to Albus. Most likely beginning with his staunchest supporters and long-time associates like Alastor and Minerva. It was the sort of crude and petty tactic that the man had used to great success throughout his political career.

Albus was more than confident that he could handle the Minister should any of this come to pass. Cornelius was a passable bureaucrat at best and a malicious front man at worst. Yet given Lucius's direct involvement in the matter, coupled with the recent signs of Tom's return that Albus had seen within the Ethereal Tides, it would be unwise to provoke such a confrontation at this time. Tom had a special knack for taking advantage of existing conflicts to devastating effect, and Albus had long ago learned the danger of an opponent who cloaked themselves in shadow at the hands of his old friend, Gellert.

Albus coldly calculated the effects of various actions he could take and felt a twinge of pain as he determined the results.

Cornelius, though vicious, was only the prelude. And if he were to exhaust his strength now, then come the day that Tom was revived, Albus would find himself unable to save lives which could have been spared.

His decision made, Albus uncrossed his hands and gave his opponent a friendly smile. "I thank you for coming today, Lucius. I understand all that you have mentioned and do not have any questions for you at this time. I would only ask that you hold the continued safety of my students as the highest measure of success for this coming event, and that you work hard to ensure there are no… unexpected… surprises from any outside influences."

"But of course, Headmaster," Lucius sneered. "After all, my own son numbers amongst this august institution's student body. Any actions I might take would always keep in mind the safety of Draco and his peers."

Ah. What a clever little way that was to say that only his son and other Purebloods would be kept safe. How Albus wished that Lucius had used his talents for good rather than evil.

Feeling every year of his age, Albus slowly rose to his feet. "Thank you for visiting, Lucius. I look forward to working with you on matters regarding the Tri-Wizard tournament."

Lucius rose to his feet as well, the man's unctuous smile back in full force. "I am sure the pleasure will be all mine, Headmaster. Good day."

The man turned to leave the office, no doubt intending to use the private Floo reserved for the use of Hogwarts staff and the Board of Governors instead of the one in Albus' office. A distrustful action to be sure, but one that was, perhaps, not unwarranted.

As he neared the door, though, Albus had one final parting comment for the man.

"Oh, and Lucius," Albus called out in a pleasant tone, "please do give my best to Narcissa when you see her. An owl should be making its way to the both of you shortly as the details of your hearing for next have been set, and I must confess that I find myself looking forward to speaking with you both regarding the splitting of your joint assets."

This time Lucius' mask did not crack upon hearing Albus' barbed comment. But broke entirely.

The man whipped around to face Albus, his pale face drawn with fury. His gloved hands tightened on the wand hidden within his cane. And for an instant, the hate-filled creature which lay underneath Lucius' aristocratic face was laid bare for the world to see.

In that brief moment of distraction, Albus struck. The mental probe he had formed while speaking was able to slip through the other man's powerful mental shields undetected. Once inside, it darted to and fro as Albus tried to search for any information which could be used to stop Tom's return, or to protect his student's from any plans or machinations the man had in place.

But alas, the only Albus' mental probe revealed was the man's raging desire to hurt his soon to be ex-wife and any who might shield her from his wrath. Before Albus was able to dig any further, Lucius' shields slammed back into place with a vengeance, cutting off the probe with the finality of a Dementor's Kiss.

"Thank you for that kind reminder, Chief Warlock. I, too, look forward to that meeting with great anticipation." Lucius' lips pulled into a thin-lipped sneer as his refined voice turned venomous. ". But I would also caution you to beware. For the waters in which you will be sailing that day are deep and cloudy, and filled with all manner of dangerous shoals."

A/N: This was a fun chapter to write, and an even more fun chapter to edit. Because while I adore Harry and the rest of the main cast, I feel that adult characters are capable of so much more complexity. Gosh I can't wait until I get Harry's age higher XD

I have always been curious as to how exactly Voldemort took on his childlike form in Book 4. This chapter shows my own theory regarding what type of dark magics he used to do it.

Meanwhile, something which always bothered me when I read fics where Sirius was freed was how there are often very few negative ramifications resulting from it, both personal and otherwise. In real life, if a democratic government in a free society were to imprison a member of a rich and powerful family for over ten years, without so much as a trial, then all hell would break loose when it came to light. Depending on the prisoner's political allegiances and the power of those who supported them, the ultimate reaction to it could vary from mere public outcry to the outright toppling of a government.

Said governments and the people in charge of them often have a tendency to get angry with – and then punish – those who cause everything to go down. It's one of the reasons why it's so dangerous to be an activist in real life. Because often times even in success an activist will find themselves relegated to the rubbish bin (or even killed) as punishment for their actions.

Food for thought.

Until Next Time,

~Elsil