PROLOGUE

Spring 1965

Antonin had been terrified when his patron had appeared unannounced in his laboratory.

He expected a certain reaction in the face of his experiments as both horror and disgust were what was shown to him by the decrepit fools of the Magisterium. Those so-called scholars didn't seem to understand that the boundaries of nature had to be pushed for wizardkind to progress forward.

As such, he was taken aback when all his patron said in the face of the Muggles' silenced agony was, "Explain," in a tone that was as soft and even as ever.

Relieved at being given a chance to explain himself, Antonin almost tripped up on his own words. "It has already been proven that a sorcerer's Mana cannot be extracted in its purest form. Our bodies will instinctually resist such an extraction, even if our minds consciously agree." He gestured to the far wall, where the ingredients for his potions were clear to see through the glass cabinet. "Magical flora and fauna will work for potions and rituals well enough, but our bodies will also reject that Mana if we try to implant it into ourselves."

His patron nodded, gesturing to his own face. "I know better than most the cost of such rituals."

Antonin winced. He had guessed that upon first meeting him but had forgotten in his excitement to finally explain his hypothesis to another scholar. "Muggles possess emotions, intentions and self-identity; all of which can only be the by-product of a soul." He had decided to not acknowledge his faux pas all together. "Therefore, they must have Mana. Sapience is impossible without it."

"We know this already." His patron said, and despite his voice not losing its even quality, Antonin could sense his impatience.

"Yes." Antonin paused briefly, knowing that this was where he would be most likely to lose his only benefactor. "But I believe that this Mana can be extracted from them as they have no natural defences as we do."

His patron made a noise of surprise that Antonin would only learn years later was faked. He had known of his experiments long before he had ever introduced himself to Antonin.

However, in that moment Antonin was excited by the show of interest. "We know that magic can be placed without malice from sorcerer to sorcerer, as helpful charms and healing magic already show. But that is only after the conscious transformation of Mana from its purest form is made."

"Sorcerer to sorcerer extractions have always ended poorly because it is treated as foreign attack." His patron frowned. "You think instead of the person receiving the Mana being the problem, it is actually the person donating it?"

Antonin nodded quickly, surprised that he had understood the idea so quickly. "Yes. Otherwise, we would reject all foreign magic placed upon us, would we not?"

His patron hummed. "You believe that because Muggles already have no control over what little Mana they possess, it could be donated safely?" He smiled when Antonin nodded. "Finally, we'll have found good use for the Muggle masses!" Antonin laughed, more out of relief than thinking the joke was actually funny. "I came here today in order to invite you to a gathering that I am hosting, and here I find only more proof of how well you would fit in among us."

"A gathering?" Antonin asked. "For fellow researchers?"

"No, we're a more… diverse bunch." His patron's smile turned secretive. "But rest assured, we are all likeminded individuals."

Antonin was unused to social gatherings, but he would do all he could in order to remain in his patron's good graces. "I am honoured, my Lord." He bowed lowly.

Lord Voldemort chuckled as he turned to the door, the hem of his cloak whipping Antonin across the face. "As you should be. We are, after all, an elite few."

He then left the room, leaving nothing but a Portkey behind as proof that he had been there.

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Later that night, the Portkey dropped Antonin off at a most magnificent stronghold at the very top of the world.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, torn between staring up at a fortress that could rival even Hoca's Palace and gazing down at the clouds that obscured the mountain that it was built into, but he was shaken out of it by a hand on his shoulder.

Quickly turning, he saw that the stronghold's outer gates had been opened and a servant had been sent out to get him as he had been stationary for so long. He refused to feel embarrassed, as the air was startingly thin due to the sudden change in altitude.

Following the well-dressed manservant inside, Antonin couldn't help but notice that he (along with the other servants he spotted within the stronghold) was wearing an Ouroboros. History had never been his best subject, but he was aware that even before Automatons, it was only those with the most incredible of fortunes that hired their fellow sorcerers to maintain their properties instead of House-Elves.

If his patron had the money to waste on such frivolous extravagances, then he would certainly be able to provide more resources than Antonin would know what to do with.

The thought alone was enough to make him salivate.

As they walked to a still undisclosed location, the manservant politely asked if he would like anything to drink, and when Antonin declined, he reminded him that he need only ask for anything he required.

Antonin had been raised as the sixth child of an unremarkable pureblood family that did not even have the resources to afford an Automaton, so he was left taken aback by the level of subservience he was being shown by another wizard.

Much like his patron's earlier surprise, he would later come to learn that this was the Imperius Curse at play.

However, this did nothing to prevent Antonin from rapidly growing accustomed to being waited upon by his fellow witches and wizards.

He was led into a large, well-furnished study, the walls of which were lined with books and Artifices that Antonin longed to examine but prevented himself from doing so due to the inhabitants of the round table in the middle of the room.

Even though the table had no head, it was clear who was in charge as the bodies of the eleven others present were all angled towards him.

"Ah, Master Dolohov." From his high-back chair, Lord Voldemort spoke to him as warmly as he had ever had, making it clear to the others in the room that he was in favour. "I am glad you have accepted my invitation."

Antonin bowed deeply. "I am honoured to have even been thought of, my Lord." It was true. He had been hesitant before as he had no idea what he was going to be walking into, but he had immediately recognised six of the individuals present and he could not believe that he would be included among their number.

It also made him realise that Lord Voldemort was even more formidable than he had believed to have gained their subservience.

"Finally," Voldemort began once Antonin had taken the only remaining seat, "the thirteen of us are assembled. Each of you has joined my cause for your own reasons, so believe me when I say that I will ensure all of them will come to fruition."

There was slight movement amongst those around the table, and for a moment Antonin thought it was a sign of discontent, but a closer look revealed only excitement and desire in the faces of those present.

Voldemort continued to speak, unbothered by the restlessness of those around him. "Together, we will create a world where every corner is filled with magic, a world where pure wizarding blood reigns supreme, a world where everyone at this table will be as immortalised in history as Hoca's first twelve Aurors!" He didn't shout, only raising his voice ever so slightly so they could all feel the passion in his words.

"It does not matter if our initial moves are thwarted, as there are many paths to victory and our ideals are too strong to be crushed by momentary failure." His red inhuman eyes flickered over their faces, as though imploring them to have to faith in his crusade. "Be it five years or fifty, our ideology will prove itself by outlasting theirs, and we will win!"

Again, Antonin glanced surreptitiously at the others, but this time it had less to do with any small movements that they had made and more about how affected he was. Antonin was unsurprised that even the most notorious amongst them looked moved by Voldemort's speech, but he guessed it had less to do with the words and more to do with his presence. Even with his serpent like disfigurement, Voldemort had an incredible charisma to him.

That powerful presence suddenly shifted, even without Voldemort changing his expression. "However, I will warn you all now. This is not something that I take lightly, so if you decide to join me there can be no turning back." His voice carried the same clear tenor, but there was a strange quality to it now, as though he was daring them to defy him. "We are comrades, one and all until death. Anything less is betrayal." He paused then, before asking, "Who will join me?"

Antonin felt put on the spot, and he suspected that the others were as well, but one dark haired young woman leapt to her feet and drew her wand. For a split second he was certain that she was going to attack Voldemort for his steep demands, but instead she vanished the round table that they were all seated around and all but threw herself at his feet.

"It would be the highest honour to join your crusade, my Lord," the woman whispered reverently, crawling forwards to kiss the hem of his black robes.

As though moved by her show of loyalty, others began joining her on the ground, crawling forward to kiss Voldemort's feet and prostrate themselves before him. A few, like Antonin, were more hesitant to show their subservience and he could see Voldemort's eyes take note of them.

Not wanting to attract any special attention from his new master before he had good results to share, Antonin was quick to fall to the ground, scrambling pathetically on his hands and knees in his haste to kiss Voldemort's feet, eager to beat out the other stragglers.

When they were all finished exhibiting their loyalty, they remained kneeling before their masters high backed chair, his throne, waiting for him to acknowledge their display.

Finally, he spoke. "My friends, it is my honour to welcome you all to the first meeting of the Knights of Walpurgis."