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24th of January 1943
Emily POV
She gazed from her throne as she sat at the head of the table. Salazar's personal chamber has seen some change over the course of the past three months or so.
She'd added a round table at the base of her throne where they all could be seated. She wasn't particularly shy about the implications she had and her position. Abraxas and Rockwood were seated nearest to her, a sign that they held her favour that caused no small amount of jealousy amongst the rest of the heirs.
It was kind of amusing, to her, the amount of jostling there was in gaining her favour. A marked difference in her lot in life now, she mused. All of these heirs of important families were begging for scraps of her affection.
A marked difference from when she'd arrived as an abandoned, despised and demonised nameless orphan just finding out about the magical world.
"Welcome all" she began as everyone took their assigned seats and turned their eyes to her. "to the second meeting of the New Year." She said in a calm, measured tone.
Everyone dipped their heads to her before she continued "Ollerton, care to share what you told me yesterday?" she queried as she gazed at him.
"Yes Lady Slytherin." He cleared his throat before he continued as his eyes flickering across the table "My cousin who works as a senior aide to Cassius Warrington, the undersecretary and she caught on that the Minister is going to send aid to the Knights of Mimpost soon." He shared eagerly to the people around the table.
"Interesting" Travers murmured before he eyed Ollerton curiously "I thought the Minister was denouncing them?" he asked curiously.
Fawcett scoffed as he looked at Travers with a look of disapproval "As if he could denounce them any longer with what they've done in France." His lips curled "With the country behind him, supporting the heroes, to denounce them publically or even in private in some instances would only sink his Ministership"
She smiled at that as her eyes glinted in victory. That was her best success for the moment, the way she had the war reported on. The paper was a huge success as practically everyone in the country read it. How could they not when it was a significantly different way of communicating to the public.
And they loved seeing their names in the paper, their opinions being asked and shared, as if they were contributing to the story though she supposed they were actually contributing in some way. But not in the way they thought.
The narrative of the stories were planned, as always, and when the contributions of those who wrote into the paper voiced opinions that they approved and cherry picked, it created a kind of illusion that this was an opinion that most people had.
People did not like to be wrong and should they be asked, they'll say that it was what they believed in from the very start perpetuating the opinion she wanted the people to have.
There was a little of everything for the public, the variety of stories that were beyond simply Britain surprisingly had been quite successful. Curiosity was a powerful thing and it was something she was not opposed to in influencing.
With regards to the war, Atticus was excellent in giving her the material from the war and even if they embellished...somewhat...they more or less reported the truth, even the defeats and the losses.
It reminded the dull population of Britain of the war that is being raged and the threat to their world and it had put pressure on the Minister. Whilst most were accepting of staying out of the war, they wanted their... 'heroes' helped so this change in stance was not surprising and in fact something she expected.
But not this fast. She wondered why...
"What form will the aid come in?" Malfoy asked intently as he peered across the table.
"Mostly in items like potions, dragonhide robes and so on." Ollerton paused momentarily as he furrowed his brows "I think...that there will be healers sent to them. Not sure how many or if it's actually true" he shrugged.
"Why would they need healers if they have the ICW?" Urquhart asked confused drawing attention to himself.
Ollerton simply shrugged but Orion Black picked it up "Because the number of healers amongst the ICW is something like every thirty to fifty to one. Having dedicated healers assigned to them is prudent. Even if they are effective in combat healing, having someone specifically trained in healing, specifically things like countering dark curses and so on, will be valuable and could well save more lives." Orion answered.
She met his gazed and a thin smile came across her face that Orion struggled to not match as his lips twitched before he broke away his eyes.
Her eyes darkened for a moment before they returned to neutral. What she's done with Orion was one of her finer moments of manipulation. In the events of the end of last year, Orion had well and truly been cast down. He held awe and fear for her but there was resentment there and that had bloomed at the start of the year, even if he did nothing to act on it.
She'd made sure that his influence was worth nothing in Slytherin and he'd been little better than the lowest of half bloods in Slytherin. His position in the hierarchy had been challenged and though he held onto it, it was shaky and everyone did not respect him.
She'd wondered why his father hadn't set to task on him, with the way House Black had been effectively neutered but Cygnus his little brother had informed some of his yearmates that their father had required of them to deal with their problems on their own, if they could. That until Orion lost his position in the hierarchy, Cygnus had no real cause to inform on Orion.
It made sense as to why Orion had fought hard to claw back some of his influence. And that, had provided the right opportunity. She hadn't invited him into Salazar's chamber since that confrontation and that was something that truly contributed to his status or lack thereof it.
Until the end of October when she'd publically invited him to sit next to her in the common room, offering an olive branch. He'd latched onto it naturally.
Of course it was a calculated risk. He could have refused and she'd have lost face if she hadn't played it right but she was confident he'd accept and even if he hadn't, she'd invite his brother to the chamber, signalling that she found him unworthy of being heir to the House of Black.
In the end, she managed to coax and sooth him and turned that resentment into quiet loyalty. Whether or not it would stick remains to be seen. His bouts of madness had lessened so she couldn't predict too far in the future considering his mental instability.
In any case he no longer held a high opinion of himself, after all, she did make him feel like nothing – she doubted making him feel as if he was worth nothing would last but self doubt was very possible – but he was still a future lord of a House that had immense influence in the Ministry.
Influence she'd love to use in the future.
"Atticus had said that they could use with a field healer or two. The aid would be well welcome" Emily informed them easily. They hadn't looked surprised when she'd said that. After all, he was her betrothed.
She smiled inwardly at that. The news of their betrothal was known to the public and as such it had put a certain light on her which she had not minded. Of course, as the war progressed and Atticus became more of a threat to Grindelwald, chances were they might try something but she could only relish that.
The prospect of fighting without limits was salivating. A cruel glint entered her eyes unconsciously. When they'd fought, Atticus rarely fought to truly harm her, allowing her to attack unrestrained.
It angered her at the beginning and he'd told her that his way of fighting would not work unless it was fight to kill. It was a bold faced lie and she'd told him that but he simply shrugged it off.
In some way, she appreciated and despised it so the idea of fighting enemies who'd fight to kill or capture her was something she was bright eyed about.
With regards to her betrothal, her situation in the school had gained a new light, Atticus without meaning to, bridged the gap between Gryffindor and Slytherin, many of the Gryffindors considered Atticus an honorary Gryffindor for his heroism which countered a lot of the hold that Dumbledore had on the House.
After all, a hero like Atticus Sayre wouldn't be able to fall for a nasty Slytherin, correct?
People liked a tragic hero and though she would not voice it to Atticus, he had a great story to build on with the way he lost his father. It was callous of her but it was the truth. He'd never use it, unfortunately but it was something that people did know about.
With regards to Dumbledore...she enjoyed the disapproval that was clear to see in the eyes of his House, it filled her with immense satisfaction. Of course she fanned the fire by having rumours started about the man...about how he wasn't a true Gryffindor because he was hiding out in the castle whilst a young man who was the same age as seventh year Hogwarts students was fighting against a Dark Lord for the world with other Gryffindors.
Behaviour that was unbefitting of a supposed powerful light orientated man who the papers had only a year ago had said was the equal of Grindelwald.
Not to mention, her half blood status also bridged the gap with some of the rest of the population, annoyingly.
The idiotic romantics really tested her patience.
She'd never mention it to Atticus, some of the vile rumours that were being spilt about her and Atticus.
She internally shuddered at the delusions that people had about her when one of the half bloods in Hufflepuff had told the story of Cendrillon, a French opera to her yearmates.
Her House knew better, naturally, to ever utter a single word about that debacle.
In any case, her influence within Hogwarts was excellent and she enjoyed seeing the grave glares that Dumbledore at times sent her way.
She turned to Ollerton "With the way things are going, I have no doubt that the Minister may well increase his contributions to the war. Keep close to your cousin, his information may well prove to be valuable" she said calmly and he nodded in acceptance.
"Anyone else?" she questioned as her eyes flickered to each face.
A few mildly interesting things were shared, none particularly useful, at least at this stage before Shafiq spoke up "I'd like to bring to attention to something that I heard from one of the muggleborns."
Expressions became a little more guarded when he said that. Whilst she'd...encouraged them to try and integrate muggleborns in wizarding culture, there were some that were less than enthusiastic – she was well aware that they wouldn't voice their opinions in front of her. But others, like Shafiq, had done so without too much problems.
He was also one of the more successful ones with his more open nature that made confiding a lot easier. There was an improved atmosphere in Hogwarts as a consequence of what she demanded of her House, that was undeniable.
The return of the rapists was...discouraged over the summer as she got together with her circle. Insinuations were made and suddenly the parents weren't so keen to expose their children to a hostile environment, especially if Slytherin were not willing to protect them...especially if they'd make their children's lives difficult.
That had been disseminated in the rumour mill, that Slytherin did not approve of their actions and that had helped relationships with the other houses turn from chilly to something lukewarm and with the effort her Slytherins were making, had slowly but surely been turning warm.
Progress.
"And that is?" she asked with a raised brow.
Shafiq straightened out and met her gaze. "Orphanages." He simply stated and she tilted her head in curiosity and he continued.
"There are quite a few muggleborns in orphanages around the country, I didn't even know how many of them actually were in orphanages until one of them had told me." Shafiq expanded.
"How many?" Bletchley asked genuinely surprised.
"Of the two hundred or so muggleborns in the school, I think there are something like sixty of them in orphanages." Shafiq said to the surprised students.
"Really?" Crouch asked disbelievingly.
"That many?" Druella Rosier asked incredulously.
Shafiq nodded with a surprised expression on his own face "Yes, I was surprised myself." He shook his head before he continued "It seemed that accidental magic was responsible for their...abandonment" he said with distaste.
"Muggles are abandoning their children in orphanages because of accidental magic?" Zabini asked in mild amusement and a little bit of confusion.
"No they are abandoning their children because they can't understand or accept the strange happenings" Emily corrected before she turned her gaze to Shafiq "Whilst the number of muggleborns in orphanages is a surprise, why are you bringing it up?" she asked genuinely curious.
Shafiq shifted uneasily in his seat "Well...shouldn't we do something? They don't belong in the muggle world, do they? The ones who are most attentive to the explanations I've given tended to actually be those who were abandoned" he shrugged lightly.
"If we're working towards getting the muggleborns accepting our ways, shouldn't we also get them to live in the magical world whilst they are in Hogwarts?" he asked the room which fell silent as they thought it over.
"It would...work well with our plans. We might even be able to use it, saying that muggles would even abandon their children if they have magic" Malfoy mused aloud.
She suppressed a smile. It was something she was considering too. It hit a little too close to home about being abandoned in a muggle orphanage by filthy muggles.
"But what can we do about it?" Carlinger asked with furrowed brows "I mean it's not as if we can actually take them in. None of our parents would accept mudbloods." He scrunched his nose.
"I might be willing to give them a fair chance, to have them amongst us without lumping them with muggles if they're willing to learn our ways but I wouldn't take them in even if I could" he declared which echoed the sentiment around the room.
She tapped her finger against the arm of her chair as she mulled it over and the room descended into a debate.
She'd always intended to open up at least one orphanage but that had been once she was within the Wizengamot, to build her image as someone who cared about the downtrodden. Her origin was something she'd use, the girl who had been amongst hostile muggles unaware of her heritage. Muggles who hated the differences and the strange occurrences around her.
Opening one now...
The problem was she would not benefit from it unless she made it public that she was responsible for it which would raise questions where she had the funds. Some would consider it being from the Sayre wealth which she did not want. It would be hers, the orphanage and the positive publicity and goodwill it would create.
"I'll have it set up before the end of school" she declared getting the attention of the room. She had contacts that she'd developed and the goblins, no matter how despicable the little creatures were, would be useful in handling some of it. She turned her eyes to Shafiq "Inform them that there will a place they can go to by the end of the school year but they have to keep it quiet. The last thing any of us, them in particular, would want is interference from meddlesome cowards." She said the last bit with a hint of a smirk causing some to upturn their lips.
The meeting after that had quieted down, nothing useful being discussed before she was left in the room with Lestrange, Malfoy and Rockwood remaining behind.
She sat back in her chair, her eyes assessing Malfoy before they flickered to Lestrange "Tell me what the mood is" she asked sharply as she drilled her gaze into Lestrange.
He straightened up under the attentive eyes and began "The non heir members of Slytherin are getting antsy." His eyes momentarily flickered to Malfoy before they returned on her and he continued "Most of the second years and up understand very well that something happened at the end of last academic year that made you the undisputed leader of Slytherin and the fact that the heirs of such important families follow you like you're Merlin, rather than like before where..." he trailed off hesitantly.
"Where before most saw me with begrudging respect, more than a little fear and certainly plenty of hidden disdain?" she finished in an amused drawl as she played with a lock of her as she sat lazily in her chair.
"Yes" Lestrange said a little bluntly as he tried to hide a smile before he grew serious "Rumours are rife within the house and given that we have been a lot more stricter when it comes to ensuring information is kept within Slytherin and that we are to show a united front outside of it, it is fraying their patience." He looked at her directly in the eyes.
"You're going to have to address it. No doubt that there are plenty of individuals who have written back to their parents about the strange circumstances, even with the strict rules. Your betrothal to Atticus Sayre would not account for the universal loyalty you're getting from every important House in Slytherin." He hesitated for a moment.
"Most think you're a jumped up pretty half blood that has dared exceed her status. They'd had thought that too, privately, naturally" Malfoy drawled before he continued.
"But were willing to accept you as leader of the hierarchy because of your magical power, your ruthlessness and your academic success. But for heirs of important families to behave as they are now...well that is making many uneasy. This also includes of course several of the parents of our circle who have been inquiring about it as there are things filtering through to them." Malfoy added with a straight face.
She tapped her fingers on the arm chair as she looked away. This wasn't anything new...she'd been aware of it for some time. But from the sounds of it, she'd need to act and act quickly. The problem was...anything that would solidify her hold on Slytherin and society at large required her to showcase who she was...or at least in such a way that most would be able to identify what family she belonged to.
Was she ready for her to be known about? A member of the Slytherin Family returning to the magical world was going to be big news. She brought her index finger to her lips as she was in deep thought. There was a lot of positive news about it and equally perhaps even more so negative attention. She'd intended to make it known after the war but perhaps there was merit of it happening now, whilst she was still in Hogwarts.
She could validate the paper even further and the direction she wanted Magical Britain go even more as Lady Slytherin. People will wonder why she was so accepting of different blood statuses and she could start now setting the tone.
The added bonus was that she was a legitimate and verifiable heir of a Founder, one of two who owned the Castle and with the Gryffindor Heir unknown – there were several families that had links to that House – she'd effectively be the person in control of Hogwarts – if she so wished. The Board of Governors would no longer have any power over the school and she'd be able to direct the school as she wanted – as long as the school remained available to all those with the gift of magic, regardless of blood status.
"Very well" she said as she looked at Lestrange for a moment before she looked at Malfoy. "I will speak to the snakes in the Common Room soon when most people are there." She said simply as her lips curled.
His eyes widened before a smirk grew on his face and he nodded before he looked at her quizzically "You know that it'll be irreversible right? People will write home about it." He informed her.
"I'm aware" she rolled her eyes.
"Ah" Lestrange said as he looked at her with a large smile "So you want them to write home about it and people will have their imagination running wild."
She smiled pleased at him and Malfoy picked it up "So you want them to fill in the blanks of all the times they met you..." he trailed off and his eyes widened.
"Yes." She answered with a pleased lilt to her tone "They've always been curious to what my origins were." The poise she had, the intellect, the charm and so on. None of them had believed she was a mudblood after they'd spent some time with her. It was inconceivable for a mudblood to be as talented and pureblood like to them.
Whilst it mildly annoyed her that their prejudices were going to be affirmed, it would work to her advantage.
"Will you use the paper?" Rockwood questioned, speaking up for the first time.
"I will..." she allowed. "I intend to use it to 'interview' Emily Riddle at which point I will bring out the fact that it is Emily Slytherin, Lady of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Slytherin." She smirked as her eyes glinted before she straightened up in her chair and crossed her legs.
"Operating in secret, I realise, does not help our cause any further now." She entwined her hands in her laps as their eyes fell on her. "With my betrothed out fighting against a Dark Lord, there is a certain advantage that we hold with my status being known to the world."
She glanced at Malfoy for a moment and saw that he was blank faced but she could sense uneasiness from him.
Malfoy had supported her when she'd proven herself to be far above everyone else, magically speaking. Before, chances were that he likely would have forced things to go in a certain way, subtly of course. She'd adopted a pureblood rhetoric because it was where the political power had lain.
Now...with her own noble status above most others, she could direct her own agenda mostly unimpeded – as long as she continued to charm and influence them into her way of thinking – and Malfoy would be reduced to an advisor rather than a right hand.
No doubt he was concerned where his future was heading. Just as she liked it. Out of all of her...associates, he was very much the one that she paid the most attention to. He was far too politically minded to not be held in close proximity.
"Not to mention, it will allow your parents to understand and be informed that you had known of my secret for the longest" she continued before she glanced at Lestrange who looked pleased by it. No doubt it would further cement his status as heir.
"There will be those who will be even more wary with a Slytherin in the world just as there is a Dark Lord rampaging in Europe" Rockwood added lightly and she nodded in understanding.
"Which is why I will be putting in that interview where I will be..." she thinned her lips "open to a certain degree."
"You intend to put yourself in a positive light" Malfoy tilted his head "a sympathetic light?" he queried.
"Yes. Unfortunately, it will be needed to placate the public lest there are those who will seek to besmirch my name and my ancestor. Obtaining sympathy will declaw many of our opponents" she answered.
She'd always known that she might have to do this. She hadn't liked it, not at all when she and Atticus had discussed it. Unfortunately, in public, she had to be above reproach given the distrust many had about typically dark families.
Luckily, she also had a diary from Salazar. Whilst the magic of the Vault prevented her from sharing much of what that spectre had told her, the Dairy of Salazar in his later years, one that spoke of the cultures he'd met on his travels for the most part, his ideas on magic that he developed from witnessing different manifestations of magic from these cultures, did have some passages that touched on Hogwarts that referred to his distrust of muggles and the worry he held of muggleborns because they might be coerced to give up the location of the castle.
Several of the cultures that he encountered took magical children from muggles from a young age if they were able. Often this had been in cooperation with the royalty of the time. The Chinese Emperors of Salazar's day had these magicals raised in close proximity to the palace.
Unfortunately, the best of these children, the male children were made into eunuchs...
So of course she wouldn't mention that.
"When will you do this?" Rockwood asked keenly.
"In the next few weeks or so" she pursed her lips. She would have to set up that orphanage quickly as well and have word of it spread.
It would tie in nicely with what Salazar had wanted and once the public knew what she was doing and what he wanted, they'd slowly shift the narrative of a dark madman who wanted muggleborns dead to one that was wary of muggles that the other founders were unwilling to see.
The fact that the Statute had been created seven hundred years later would have him be seen as a visionary. She'd have it tied in to what Atticus had given a speech about...about how the Statute was important and the worlds should remain separated completely.
The meeting after that had quieted down, nothing useful being discussed before she was left in the room alone just after curfew. Salazar's chamber had a direct link to the Chamber of Secrets and she headed down to the main office.
She went to the book rack and picked the branch of magic she'd been studying in the past few months.
Salazar had quite a collection on Soul magic in the Slytherin family vault. Mostly esoteric but there were sound pieces of magic that surprised her. She'd taken quite a few of them with her when she started the year, the nature of her research demanding.
She opened a tome and sat on a comfortable chair by the hearth and began to read. Horcruxes were a bust...obviously, but it did not mean that there was not valid research. Herpo the Foul had not been the originator of the piece of soul magic, in fact she strongly suspected horcruxes were bastardised forms of magic of Ancient Egyptian priests.
Ancient Egypt at the time had been one of the centres of several branches of magic...Warding, Curses, Rituals, Runes and of course Necromancy and Soul Magic.
Atticus' family were no necromancers nor ever proficient in soul magic, the nature of their library in their ancestral home made that clear though she suspected the section of the library that was for the Lords of the house likely did have some rare books on it at the very least. Most of the books on Soul magic was largely esoteric in nature within the available sections of the Sayre Library.
In comparison Salazar during his travels around the world had managed to obtain a variety of books. Most of the books were what she'd seen in the Sayre Library or similar enough but there were some truly excellent finds, in particular one that detailed experimentation with the Trinity...the body, soul and mind.
Horcruxes sheared of a piece of who and what you are...the ritual of sacrificing an innocent also required a sacrifice of the self. A form of safety from death came with the sacrifice of self.
A violation if there ever was one. A dark humour washed over her when she thought of the saying 'cutting your nose to spite your face' that almost meant what creating a horcrux was. Defying death by destroying who and what you were.
Suffice it to say, she'd lost interest in that kind of magic long ago. Not when creativity, intelligence and skill was all that was needed to figure an alternative way.
From the research Salazar had conducted into Horcruxes and the detailed experimentation, she'd developed a theory that horcruxes did not grant immortality, merely safety from death for a while. She had not yet verified it but the sacrifice of self also included life force through the shattering of the Trinity. The sacrifice of the innocent shattered the soul whilst the ritual shattered the trinity by sacrificing life force and separating a part of the you.
She postulated that the horcrux could be used to create another version of you that consisted of what you sacrificed. She was uncertain if the other version would be able to keep the main soul piece from passing if the other version were to create a body thus creating a new trinity.
It was high level theory, no way she could verify, at least for now she mused.
There were myths – perhaps she should say stories that are told to children to scare them away from certain magicks around the Mediterranean – about mages that were controlled completely and were without any resemblance of having free will through objects that the controller had in their possession. If you had someone's soul, you could control the individual completely.
She assumed Ancient Egyptians were able to separate the soul from the body in its entirety. The practice must have fallen out of place because of this severe weakness and the false immortality that disappeared when people died even when their soul had been safe.
She suspected that era was also where the myths of genies in a bottle originated...
She could understand why it fell out of practice and why there only existed in myths. She suspected that there likely had been a purge of the knowledge at some point and reduced to stories purposefully.
In any case, Herpo must have found references to it because the horcrux ritual resembled closely to what she suspected the Ancient Egyptians had done.
One of avenues she was heading, or perhaps she should say the main avenue, was towards the idea of 'anchoring'. Breaking the Trinity was not feasible, at least in the long term as mental instability would increase over time, but anchoring the soul to your body seemed like it should be a true way to immortality.
With the extended lifespan Atticus had found, and the sheer ability for the body to regenerate, combining those aspects with anchoring the soul...anchoring mortality to the universe had to be a way to avoid death.
The killing curse did not affect the soul, not truly, as it targeted the nervous system and destroyed it, so in theory Atticus' rituals should be able to allow him to survive the curse.
She'd read his research with regards to the representation of what the different frequencies, what the different colours within spells meant. Soul magic was esoteric and manipulation of the soul was magically neutral. The human revealing charm had a pure white colour within its spell spectrum that corresponded with the soul
The killing curse, did not have this pure white colour in its spell spectrum and she'd verified it herself as she replicated his experiments.
Even if they were immune to the killing curse, in theory, it did not mean that there weren't spells that could directly affect their soul.
Death through soul magic, death through injury, all of that were things she could not accept, not when she had an excellent direction to truly achieve immortality.
Atticus was of the belief that Death could only be delayed, never avoided or defeated – she'd wondered about this phrase of turn from him – but she did not recognise that and she wasn't willing to accept that.
For the next few hours she worked on her research, creating arithmantic calculations and notes until she heard footsteps in the distance behind her and an unconscious half smile appeared on her face as she kept her eyes on her work.
The footsteps neared, closer and closer until she felt his hand pull her hair back behind her ear before he kissed her cheek.
"My love" he murmured and she smiled widely at the sound of his voice before she turned around and looked at him as she put the tome on the arm of the chair.
His hair was a little short than usual but still almost reached his shoulders. His face held a little stubble as she took hold of both of his cheeks and gave him a soft kiss on the lips after she got up.
He hummed contentedly before they broke up and they looked at each other. It had been a tiresome few months. They would have used the Vanishing Cabinets more often but it seemed that there was something about the war time wards around Britain that disrupted the link between the two. Not enough to completely make them ineffectual but rather dangerous to use.
Atticus suspected that it was coincidence rather than something targeted because otherwise the DoM would have made sure that they didn't work completely.
In the end, they found that highly magical places 'boosted' the connection and circumnavigated the disruption and created a stable connection. Problem was of course that Atticus in the past four or so months rarely stayed in those kinds of places and only for a few weeks had a stable location to come visit her when he had time. They'd talked on the mirror phone of course but it was not the same.
He stroked her face gently as he seemed to drink the sight of her in. "I've missed you." He said softly as she leaned into his touch. She grabbed his hand, the hand that was stroking her face and kissed it gently in response that told him that she missed him just the same.
"You took your time" she said a little accusingly as she raised her eyebrow. She could have spent these past few hours in the Time Room had she known he'd take this long.
"My apologies" he said with a wry grin before he grew serious "We were going through a plan, fine tuning before we left on a mission"
She narrowed her eyes and took his hand and dragged him to the sofa. She sat him down and raised an eyebrow in question and he chuckled softly in response before he explained what the mission was.
Her face was blank as she listened to the mission that he'd taken on. In the first meeting they had since she left for Hogwarts a few weeks ago, he'd told her of what he'd done and what had happened to them.
She could see the deaths of the people he'd led weighed on him somewhat and that they'd developed a bond with several people in his little renegade group.
"How do you plan on circumventing the wards?" she asked with intense curiosity. From the sounds of the wards on Genelum should be like Durmstrang somewhat even if considerably lesser. That meant that being able to 'cut' through the wards would be near impossible. The protective spells were simply too powerful for it be down in a way that wouldn't draw attention.
Unravelling the wards similarly would be impossible for it to be done in subterfuge as the individuals in the wards would be able to sense it.
His eyes gleamed as he raised his hand and lightning crackled around his hand, the eerie light of it illuminating his face.
"I don't have the power – not even the collective power of my group would be enough – to break the wards down in a reasonable amount of time." He said to her as he gazed at his hand. He continued "But...I can bring down those wards by other means" he smirked at her before he explained a little further.
She was astonished to find out how far he's progress in that avenue. And she was more than a little jealous. Perhaps there was merit in her learning Northern Magicks and learn more about nature magic.
Problem was, the magic was very neutral and she wasn't sure if she could succeed. Most of the magic she used for duelling was very dark and she wanted to hurt her opponents.
She wasn't sure if she could have the state of mind necessary to channel the dangerous magic. She was also wary about the possibility of permanent damage should she fail. It galled her to think of it but permanent damage to her very magic?
She wasn't sure if she was willing to risk it on such a limited branch of magic, even if it was exceptionally powerful.
If she'd ever needed to use such great amount of power, there were plenty of other magicks that could cause similar levels of destruction.
He wasn't using Fiendfyre or similar spells because the spell would eventually destroy the castle and its inhabitants. Of course the wards would stop it for quite some time, likely at least half to a quarter of a day or so but by then, the magic it had fed from would be impossible to reel in and you'd have to wait for it to be burnt out.
Not even Atticus or herself could reel in Fiendfyre that has consumed such large magical energies.
Plus in that half/quarter a day most of the enemies could well escape and the dead would just be the prisoners, partially defeating the entire point of the excursion.
"Fine, you can take down the wards but what about the men, the traps that might be there?" she asked curiously.
"I'm using a number of elves to scope the place before hand and they'll map out the place. They can't unfortunately take the prisoners from the place as the wards are more than likely to be attuned to not allow any unkeyed in individuals." He answered before he paused momentarily "I'm a little concerned that they might have safeguards against elves...but we'll see."
She nodded in understanding before she tilted her head "You're meant to hold the place for some time...will you be able to?" she queried.
"I'm not certain. It obviously depends on how long they'll take" he mused before he shrugged "We'll deal with it as it comes" he declared and she frowned minutely before she schooled her expression.
"Have you decided which element you'd like to incorporate into yourself?" he asked her with keen eyes fixed on her.
"Yes." She said simply. "Water" his eyes widened before he tilted his head with a questioning look as he raised an eyebrow.
"You thought I'd use fire? The more destructive element?" she raised the question for him and he nodded slightly so she continued "You'd be right in that I had originally considered that" she tucked the strands of her hair behind her ears before she smirked widely which caused him to narrow his eyes warily.
"Water is in everything Atticus. It is in life, it is in the air and in it is in the soil" she turned to him as her smirk took on a slight sinister expression "I believe I can exploit that as a water elemental" her eyes gleamed and he stiffened as he processed her information.
There were several magical creatures that had water manipulation abilities. Obtaining scales or other body parts willingly would be quite a challenge but she already was working on it.
"Emily..." he started warily as he stared at her with cautious eyes. She got up and sat on his lip, her legs on either side of his as she brought her face close to his.
"Do not worry" she said softly, her voice seductive "I have no intention becoming a menace." She traced her index finger on the side of his face, along the length of his jaw line before she met his eyes. "Trust me" she whispered softly as she stared at those purple eyes with green flecks that she found so enticing.
He sighed resignedly "I believe you. I'm just concerned that your first thought to being a water elemental was what you could do with it to exploit others" he answered gently as he searched her face with his expressive eyes – eyes that only showed this side of him to her.
His arms wrapped around her back and she felt him weave his hands under her robes. She stared at him for a moment. "I can understand that. But it is how my mind works" she shrugged carelessly. She didn't quite understand why he was concerned about it.
Most people thought that way, even if it was subconscious.
He said nothing further and kissed her on the lips as he took off her robes. She met his kiss firmly and a few minutes later she broke it off and touched her forehead against his. "How long do we have?" she asked softly.
"A few hours" he replied with a sense of hunger in his voice as she leaned back a little, their eyes meeting. His eyes looked at her with lust and arousal.
"Enough time" she said with a seductive tone as she got off his lap and walked towards the bedroom with an extra sway in her steps.
She heard him follow as she dropped her bra on the floor as he walked into the bedroom.
-Break-
28th of January 1943
King George POV
He gazed towards the portrait that hung above the fireplace. The war was looking up compared to where they were only a year ago.
The Kraut onslaught had looked to be relentless, a juggernaut that they were ill prepared for. But things were changing, if the reports were accurate. The Germans were encountering difficulties in Russia, the German 1st Panzer Division having withdrawn from the Terek River whilst the Soviets launched an all out offensive on Stalingrad, Leningrad and other places in the Caucasus.
Winston had returned less than a day ago from the Casablanca conference to discuss the invasion of Europe, in particular Sicily and Italy.
His gaze shifted to the double doors that were opening. He straightened in his seat, recovering his royal poise as his eyes roved over the man who was guiding their country through the tremulous seas, seas that had almost engulfed them.
As he watched the portly man cross the distance, his shoes gently sounding out as he walked a sedate and controlled pace, he couldn't help but respect the man for his dedication and surety.
If George was the symbol, he was the embodiment of British endurance under severe pressure, the man who kept morale up as he won the hearts and minds of the population with his passionate speeches that reached the public.
A shared struggle, a struggle they would win and come out on top off. He and his wife could only do the same, share in the same struggle as they rationed, just like the rest of his people.
Just as he stayed at Buckingham Palace, even if it was specifically targeted, having been bombed half a dozen times already. He could do nothing else but remain a pillar of Britain as its people suffered.
His children remained in the country though they were at Windsor Castle for the most part.
"Your Majesty" the man said in a reverent tone as he took off his bowler had and kneeled in front of him with a bowed head.
"Stand Prime Minister" he intoned gently and Churchill did as he bid and took the seat across from him.
He met with the Prime Minister once a week, holding audience with the man as he was informed of the state of the war.
"Tea?" he asked Churchill who shook his head.
"No, Your Majesty." George nodded in acceptance before he turned to his servant.
"Leave us" he said calmly. The servant bowed and left, closing the doors behind him.
He returned his gaze to Churchill who straightened out in his seat, a grim look but a glint of satisfaction...of being pleased, perhaps? Churchill caught the look of curiosity and spoke up.
"Your Majesty, we've received important intel on the Eastern Front from our agents." Churchill said in a serious tone though there was a hint there.
George waved him on and Churchill explained the state of the war on the Eastern Front. He'd heard of the latest situation in Stalingrad but it seemed, now, that the German forces were collapsing, the final stages of their defeat was within reach. The Red army had being racking up the victories in the Caucuses with the Soviets retaking Voronezh.
"The Germans recognise the shift in the war, our deep cover agents have informed us that they about to put through a new conscription law today, one where men between 16 and 65 will be open to mobilisation" A grim smile grew on Churchill's face.
It was a double edged sword...one that spoke plainly of the shift of the war and one whereby the Germans were acting in accordance. The situation in Russia must be devolving quickly for them to do this now.
"Do you believe the Soviets will be able to counter what is sure to be renewed assault from the Germans?" he questioned Churchill.
"I believe so. They bought enough time in the past six months or so to mass produce on a large scale, their production output having been geared, successfully in producing tanks, planes and weapons. The success in holding the line galvanised them and the anger of the slaughter at the hands of Kraut barbarity has only deepened their resolve." Churchill took out a handkerchief and wiped at his forehead. "Personally, I believe the Soviets will be sending waves and waves of men at the Germans, better armed and with enough bullets this time. The shift of the war is happening and I've spoken with Roosevelt about taking advantage of the shift"
George nodded in understanding. He'd grimaced when he heard the sacrifice that the Soviets were giving to just buy time, effectively throwing bodies at the Germans whilst they bought time to bring their factories to maximum output.
"Good, we will need the distraction when the invasions happen" George mentioned. It was cold and harsh but ultimately it was what it was.
Churchill scowled before he schooled his face "The Americans are dragging their heels on that front. They are being too precautious. They want the Germans to be more focused on the Soviets for the time being, exhausting manpower whilst we secure the Mediterranean." Churchill shook his head "It's sensible but"
"But you are wary of leaving the Soviets in the lurch" George finished for Churchill who nodded.
"Yes Your Majesty. I do not care for the Soviets, their ideals are an anathema to me, and the British People" he scowled for a moment before he continued "But the pressure they are able to put on the Germans will be key to our invasion plans."
George nodded in understanding before he narrowed his eyes "What about the wizards?" he questioned intently.
Churchill set his jaw for a moment before he knocked the arm of the chair with his knuckles. "Not much has changed there. The British wizards are remaining out of the European magical war." He said with a little disdain in his voice.
George reflected back on when he'd heard about the existence of the magical world. Each Sovereign is informed of the magical world upon their ascension of the throne ever since the wizards went into hiding. None other than the Sovereign is allowed to know among the royal family and he hadn't known until a few days before his coronation when Edward had said he'd abdicate so he could marry that wife of his.
Edward had broken the convention, keeping himself predictable when it came to breaking traditional and long standing conventions, as he'd informed him of the magical world before George's coronation, differing from when Edward had been informed a few days after his coronation by an assigned wizard, courtesy of the Minister of Magic.
He'd thought it to be a jape his brother had played on him, until he'd seen his brother's face at which point he'd consider his brother mentally unstable. In fairness, it was not a large leap considering the crisis he caused by latching on to that common woman rather than do his duty for his country.
He'd eaten his words when his table had transformed in a damn corgi with but a wave of a stick.
He'd sent a case of good wine to his brother in apology.
He'd been angered to find out that the several of the senior royal staff were in on the secret whilst he and his brother had not known until they'd ascended to the throne. He understood why the senior staff were informed, it was impractical for some of the staff to not know but it did not explain why the royal family at large did not know.
To make matters worse, the assigned Lincoln Underhill was specifically assigned to look after the royal family, 'for their own protection' whilst the royal family were largely unaware of him.
The senior staff had informed him that his father used to meet up with the assigned wizard at the time though they did not know what they spoke of. This...Underhill, was new to the job, the previous wizard having been retired, apparently, with the death of his father.
He did not like the secrecy, the lack of information he was given about the magical world, about the British magical world of which he was the Sovereign of. That had also been a surprise.
He'd checked the records and diaries of his forefathers – his own father's diary was missing which only angered and raised his suspicions – to discover more about this magical world.
He'd found out a little more about the magical world, the treaties that were signed with them but the pertinent information, the recent information was frighteningly sparse. The senior staff did inform him however, of the treaty that his father had signed that effectively made the Irish Ministry of Magic a dominion, much like the British Ministry of Magic was a dominion, much like how the other magical communities in the British dominions were.
He'd questioned Underhill about this, ordering him to tell him more and he'd been frustrated to know that the man was holding a lot of information back.
Likely on purpose. He'd met with the Minister, Spencer-Moon once and that had been an affair that only raised his hackles. It was clear to see that whilst he was their Sovereign, they did not dignify him as such. There was a level of condescension and lack of respect that he couldn't abide by.
It was unacceptable.
As a result he'd tasked Chamberlain to find wizards that would aid them in keeping up with the magical world and they'd found some dissatisfied wizards, two of them and several squibs – magic born without magic – that took the option.
It hadn't been easy, every Prime Minister was assigned a wizard, just like him 'for their own protection' and as such, it made navigating around them somewhat difficult. But they succeeded in early 1938 when a man whose father, a squib who'd been ejected from the magical world, had told him a little of that world, within the civil servant staff had connected them to those few individuals.
What they'd discovered made it a wise decision to obtain independent information about the magical world.
The magical world at the time had been on the precipice of war, just as theirs was. In fact, there even might well be evidence that this Grindelwald was responsible for the war, given the powers these wizards had.
And hadn't that been frightening? That these peoples could very well change, alter and control the minds of their victims with ease...that significant percentage of their people viewed normal people as animals. In fact, this Grindelwald seemed to be of the opinion that they needed to be controlled, their population managed and their Statute of Secrecy to be broken.
It made it clear, so very clear, that the current status quo could not continue. The two wizards, Mr Cameron and Mr Johnston were born from normal people. This circumstance of birth marked them much like how Negroes were viewed and treated in the civilised world.
The indignity to be viewed as such had burned in him and had sent Churchill raging, the idea of being perceived at best like a Negro by most of these people...
When the war was over, they'd create a special intelligence division to spy on the magical world, to ensure that the threats from that world were countered.
The senior staff did not know if such a thing existed which surprised him. Surely his father would have kept track of their errant magical population? The missing diary and the suspicious lack of recent information were gnawing at him.
He'd read from the diary of his great grandfather, found in a secret compartment within Windsor Castle that held much of the documents they had on the magical world that the senior staff had shown him, that the magical world in his time and in the time of his grandfather had been an important component in British nobility. He'd been astounded to read a passage that many of these noble families were a millennia and in some instances several millennia old though he was sceptical on that front. Unbroken lines to Rome and Ancient Egypt? Unlikely.
But then it hadn't been too long ago that the notion of magic being real was nothing but a jape…
These families effectively controlled the British magical community within their parliament, one that was similar to the House of Lords but without the House of Commons and the separation of powers.
One of the most interesting and shocking piece of information that he'd gotten from the two wizards were the fact that King Arthur had been real, the kingdom of Camelot was honest to God a real kingdom, a not so mythological kingdom that inspired him as a youth and countless others.
After he'd heard that, a memory played on his mind when his father had smiled at him with mischievous knowing eyes when he played as Lancelot whilst his brother played King Arthur.
Oh, how father had to be amused by it...
"Even in the advent of the liberation of Magical France?" he queried surprised. From what he could tell, the Minister was a shrewd man even if he was disloyal, certainly from what he could observe from the Daily Prophet.
Churchill nodded "They are holding onto that but it might well be that they will be unnecessary" Churchill chuckled merrily "It seems like the magic Soviets are like their normal counterparts. They've bloodied the nose of the wizard Krauts just the same." He smiled grimly.
"Good to hear. It's about time they sort out that mess. I've had countless uneasy nights knowing Hitler has magic on his side" George said with thinned lips.
Knowing that Hitler had wizards in his pocket even if was likely the other way round was a frightening prospect.
"Believe me, Your Majesty, it is something I share." Churchill said sourly "At least there are some British magic folk fighting against the wizards Nazis."
George nodded slightly in acknowledgement. He'd read about the boy – he really was but a boy – in the Daily Prophet and he'd been intrigued about the so called Lord Sayre and his fellow compatriots that elected to volunteer in the war.
His message tended to be about fighting for magic or some nonsense but he'd been pleased to hear about the notion of self determination and that might did not make right.
It was somewhat hypocritical given the history of his Kingdom as Might very well made Right throughout the centuries, having exercised that right against many natives of their lands, but even so, it spoke well of his character.
Surprisingly, he'd discovered that the boy's family had held the Dukedom of Leeds from 1234 until their Statute of Secrecy went up in 1692 which required them to relinquish their ties in the normal world, leaving that dukedom without a Duke all this time.
The Complete Peerage of England, Scotland, Ireland, Great Britain and the United Kingdom, Extant, Extinct or Dormant book volumes had been something he had to know from an early age that listed the titled aristocracy of the British Isles.
He remembered seeing names like Black, Bones, Longbottom, Greengrass, Eveningshade, Potter, Nott and Sayre listed as dormant rather than extinct. He'd looked into it and whilst there were seemingly noble magical families still in existence, they'd been marked as extinct. He'd been curious about that and he'd discovered in Windsor of the agreement those dormant families had with Queen Anne. When the Ministry of Magic had been ratified, these families had approached Queen Anne and had asked that their titles remained unassigned whilst their family name still lived, just in case the Statute fell in the future, resuming their peerage.
That had been interesting to find out. She'd agreed and as a result, the income of their lands, the normal side would be taxed directly to the crown whilst they'd keep up a relative payment of 2% of their magical income to the crown and he had been curious to discover which families kept up that payment. Certainly the normal side seemed to be in order and accounted for but the magical side...
He'd discovered that the senior staff did keep track of the taxation and had done so through clever piece of obfuscation. Their wealth was soundly secure even if they lost their lands and royal status.
Well...there were three families that did not keep up their payment. It seemed that Eveningshade, Longbottom and Nott had not paid for centuries. Though he's come to understand that Eveningshade had died out centuries ago...it seemed strange to him that they hadn't had their title revoked and it would be something he'd investigate at some point after the war.
The other two families he'd determine something out, the impertinence had to be addressed though he made it clear that they were to be revoked – he'd thought of demanding a lump sum from them to keep it but he dismissed it given that they broke the compact. The other families did keep up payment but whether or not it was the true agreed percentage was something that they could not ascertain, for the moment.
But for now, he was satisfied that there were families that seemingly kept up the payment and the chances were that these families that held importance in their world held some allegiance to him. Another thing he'd investigate after the war.
"The liberation of wizard France should make interference from the wizard Krauts difficult which will make our own invasion much easier." Churchill continued though his eyes darkened for a moment "Not that I expect these people to be too much trouble against a mounted turret or a missile"
George sent a reproachful look at Churchill "Don't be underestimating these people. They've hidden an entire part of the world from our eyes. I doubt they'd make it easy. Even if they view us stuck in the 18th century."
Churchill looked a little chastised and bowed his head in apology. George waved him on. Some of the accounts he'd read from his ancestors left him very concerned. He had Mr Cameron and Mr Johnston swear an oath of fealty to him and then protect his properties from eavesdropping magic.
A year or so back, they'd subdued Mr Underhill and forced him to swear an oath of silence on the pain of death that would force him to never speak of the activities that happened here. He wouldn't be able to even say a word about what happened nor indicate that he'd taken an oath to protect their secrets.
For the moment, there was little he could do. He didn't like the idea of their secret society, nor the amount of power, regardless of their magic, they held on the world. The fact that they could wipe the memories of individuals to protect the secret of their world was something that grated within him. He understood the necessity of it, the witch hunts had been particularly horrifying to discover but it was still not something he could accept with ease.
Not to mention, he was conflicted with the notion of magic existing and its place in the world. He was uncertain of what God intended. Scripture referenced magic to be unnatural and it had been what set off the hunts in the first place though he wondered if there was not a part of jealousy and anger about not having such powers in the first place.
After all, he was well aware of the gluttony that existed in the hearts of men and men of the cloth were still only men. Given that wizards had power and they did not, ensuring that their influence on the world was limited was likely something that was premeditated. But that was simply supposition.
He did not believe God made a mistake with magic, that there was purpose, somewhere about magic. It has existed long since before the antiquities as far Mr Johnston had told him so he did not know where God truly stood on magicals.
God had made all men equal in His eyes but that did not seem to be true with magic and their users. They had actual power in their bodies, far too much, and it was something that made him wonder about them and God's plan.
He banished those thoughts for the moment. It always came to it when he thought on these people...these magicals. All the different species, goblins, actual mermaids and not to mention centaurs! If there was ever anything unnatural, it was half horse half man creatures.
He sighed inaudibly "Was there anything else?" he questioned Churchill who shook his head. "Very well." His hand went to the bell on his right and he rang it.
Churchill stood up and bowed "Your Majesty." He said in a reverent tone before he stood straight back up and left leaving George to his thoughts.
-Break-
29th of January 1943
Aurilius Dumbledore/Credence Barebones POV
His heels clanked on the smooth stone surface as he traversed through the halls of the complex in Mannheim Germany.
His face was impassive, devoid of any emotions as his eyes flickered towards the constant coming and goings from the various rooms that he walked past, most of them creating concoctions of some type or another.
Mannheim was the main base that dispersed the various potions that thousands depended on. There were certainly several other bases that created potions but Mannheim was important as it produced a third of all the potions the army consumed.
It wasn't the only thing they dispersed either…he sighed as he pushed away those disturbing thoughts and returned to the situation at hand.
His eyes went back towards the front as he kept on walking, his mind awhirl of what to expect. He'd been summoned by Grindelwald and he wasn't sure what to expect. The losses they'd suffered he knew would be putting Grindelwald into a mood and nothing good came when he perceived himself to be under siege.
He'd never thought this was what his life would be when that day happened…
His mind flashed back to the broken young man, huddled into a corner with his eyes down to his feet, unwilling to meet the eyes of those in his company, too beaten into submission to be able to stand on his feet. His mind liked to remind him of what he was…
It's been over fifteen years…seventeen years to be exact since that fateful day in 1926 when he'd lost control, when he'd let it be known that there was more to him than many thought him to be.
That had started his journey to discover who he was…who he was meant to be…what he was supposed to do. He'd let everyone believe he was dead which suited him as it left him free to find out who he was.
Despite the agonising pain he'd felt when the American Aurors tried to kill him, he'd discovered, critically, that he was effectively unkillable in the Obscurial form.
He'd joined Circus Arcanus, a travelling wizarding circus as it was the easiest way to get to Europe in order to discover his roots. His impassive face fell slightly as a warm smile threatened to bloom.
Of all the decisions, of all the opportunities, he was ever grateful of that decision to join Circus Arcanus. He'd met her then, the person who had made his miserable life worth living.
He shook away those thoughts as he continued to walk on towards the destination he was here for.
The adoption papers, the news clippings all led him to a woman that he'd believed to be his mother, Irma Dugard, a half elf woman. When he met her, he thought he'd finally have what he wanted the most…an identity, something.
But…
She wasn't his mother.
A bitter feeling of disappointment had hit him until she told him that she'd worked for the Lestrange household, something that shocked him and filled him with wary hope. That there was more to him than he'd ever thought…
She was killed before he could find out more from her.
He mused it hadn't mattered in the end. He wasn't Corvus Lestrange, Leta Lestrange had clarified that when she'd shared the ugly tale of how her actions led to the death of her half brother.
He'd given up then that he'd never find out who he was…
He'd joined Grindelwald's rally and he'd been enraptured. Thinking back on it, he recognised the signs of someone who needed something, someone to cling on.
And he'd chosen Grindelwald's cause to paint over the cracks of his soul. He hated the Barebones for what they had done to him but he didn't care about the rest of the world…not really. The cause was just something he latched onto.
He wanted to prove himself to be worth more than the worthless, nameless orphan that he was…the boy who was thrown away from wherever he came from…the infant that was saved by the whims of fate, luck and a sister's annoyance.
He'd discovered from Grindelwald, in the end, that he was a Dumbledore. The bird he'd been caring for had been a Phoenix, an immortal being that had ties to the Dumbledore family, supposedly coming to an heir of the family in a time of need…of great emotional turmoil.
Fawkes remained with him to this day, a faithful companion that helped healed the wounds of his soul as time went. A friend that protected him in more ways than one.
Phoenixes weren't the beings of light that they were misconstrued as…they represented rebirth and life, beings connected to the waters of life. They were existed outside of balance, the balance of life and death and yet they also exemplified it.
No one is sure how they choose their companions but he knew that power and significance mattered to them – that he understood from Fawkes. It did not matter so much if you were light or not as long as you did not pervert magic in an obscene way, like much of the Dark Arts were. Intentions perhaps mattered too…
In any case, to truly put the doubts away, a Gringotts test had confirmed that he was, indeed, a Dumbledore.
Half brother of Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore.
That had been one of his happiest moments in his life…to finally know who he was. He'd discovered that his mother was Nadine Dipplesworth who worked in Azkaban, the same place his father Percival Dumbledore had been imprisoned for the murder of muggles. She'd died in childbirth and he'd been left with his aunt, his aunt who died in the shipwreck and whose name had been on the ship's manifest.
He'd hoped to find more on his maternal family as he knew that the Dumbledore's wouldn't accept him. He hadn't believed Grindelwald when he'd told him that.
Finding out that his maternal family, the Dipplesworths, were all dead had been one of the worst days of his life. He'd missed their deaths only by a few months and he'd accused Grindelwald of organising their deaths and only a magical oath that had him vow that he in no way had them killed or killed them himself had him resist the urge to attack the man.
Even so…it was too suspicious…too convenient for his maternal family to be all dead, just as it was getting to be known that he was indeed a Dumbledore.
Albus Dumbledore's public refusal of their blood connection had been a blow – claiming that it was a scheme of Grindelwald – a visceral feeling of rejection had passed through him that had grown his resentment of his brother.
It reminded him too much of the Barebones…
That had created a spark within him, a spark that hasn't dimmed even now, to learn as much magic as possible.
Grindelwald had promised to have him trained and he did.
Five years.
Five years it took for him to become a fully trained wizard and they'd explored his capabilities as a Stable Obscurial. He could turn now completely at will, able to shift from one form to another with ease and without any issues.
The Obscurus parasite was fused with his magical core, somehow, according to Grindelwald, in a way that should not be possible. Grindelwald had extracted an Obscuri parasite from…somewhere…and had attempted to bring it to heel.
He'd failed.
It was something that Grindelwald could not seem to bring to heel…something that was beyond Grindelwald, however impossible it seemed.
He'd been immeasurably relieved about that…it meant he was unique and would remain as such. He would remain valuable and cherished…
How naïve he was…
He walked towards the corridor that split into two routes and came across an open door on his right. The room was large and filled with fumes from potions as his eyes flickered to the rows of workstations that were filled with people. His eyes roved over them and he suppressed a feeling of sympathy as he watched tired hands, tired people make potion after potion.
His eyes caught one of theirs and he halted, briefly, in his step as he met her eyes. They were almost hollow, bereft of hope as she looked at him with eyes that seemed to judge him with every passing moment.
He turned away abruptly and continued on his path, a feeling of shame washing over him.
A feeling that he seemed he'd never get rid of. Before it had been a feeling that was put onto him…in the years since…he's earned that feeling of shame with his actions.
After his training, he'd been assigned directly to Grindelwald, aiding him in his toppling of the German, Austrian and Danish Ministries. He'd killed in cold blood for the time in 1934. He remembered it clearly as though it happened yesterday.
He'd been tasked to kill an important individual within the Austrian Ministry who was guarded with over a dozen men. The man had effectively ruled the Ministry for decades and Grindelwald could not accept anyone even if they bent the knee that had even the slightest chance of damaging his cause and so…
And so…he'd gone to the estate alone and left the estate in burning with fifteen people dead, all torn apart as he descended on them in his obscurial form.
He wasn't able to sleep for weeks after he…did that.
Again and again he'd been asked to commit heinous actions, actions that ate at him until he'd asked…demanded to be used as anything other than an assassin. If it weren't for what Grindelwald could do for him…for them...for her…
He finally arrived at the double doors that were manned by two guards. He subtly straightened his back as he walked up to them as recognition flashed in their eyes.
"Sir" One of them said.
"Here to see our Lord" he said in an even tone and they nodded before they opened the doors.
The door creaked slightly as they opened onto a wide room where Grindelwald was seated with several individuals that he recognised. Ohmerson, Laercadanus and Kildorf. They were not the same rank as Dukesvky, De Galle or Rosier but they were very close to it in the hierarchy.
"Ah, Aurilius" Grindelwald looked at him with a smile and a warm tone that had him blank his mind.
Over the years, he'd lost the awe and the reverence he held for the man as the crimes he's committed marred his soul. Now, he only had very deeply hidden contempt for the man who has poisoned what had been a broken boy desperate for attention…of affection.
She had helped him see that.
"My Lord" he said with a slight bow from the hips. Grindelwald gestured him forth impatiently.
"Come, sit" Grindelwald said as Aurilius saw a glint of what seemed like calculation enter his eyes.
He promptly took the seat next to Kildorf before he looked at Grindelwald who was watching him intently.
"You called me in My Lord?" he asked evenly, hiding the stiffness he felt under Grindelwald's inspecting eyes.
He smiled thinly "I did Aurilius." He said in a warm tone that rankled him. It used to work…the…affectionate way he used to speak to him…it made him feel wanted…as he was important to Grindelwald.
He'd been thoroughly disabused of that notion years ago.
Grindelwald sat back in his chair, his spidery long fingers flickering towards the maps and parchment that laid on the table.
His eyes followed the action as the maps levitated towards him along with a parchment and he grabbed it and frowned as he read the plans.
"You will be going to Belgium with a number of reinforcements to deal with the pending attack from the ICW and their allies" a tone of disdain creeped into his voice as Aurilius looked up and at Grindelwald. His face had darkened as he sat back in his chair, watching Aurilius.
He broke off eye contact and his eyes flickered back to the parchments as he read the plans that included an estimated number of enemies. He narrowed his eyes momentarily before he breathed out silently.
This…
This was not good at all. From the looks of it, they are going to be attacking several bases at the same time. He wouldn't ask how Grindelwald knew…he'd seen enough of some of the things…they did. His mind refocused on what Grindelwald said…
"The reinforcements won't be enough" he spoke up delaying the real question that was on his mind.
"We are aware." Laercadanus said and Aurilius looked at him. The man was a tall, thin man with vivid golden blond hair. His eyes were a deep gray blue that were cold and harsh.
"These reinforcements are intended to only supplement the existing men that are already there." Laercadanus said calmly.
"Besides" Kildorf spoke up next, a cruel smile adorning his face "There are plenty of other surprises that will be present."
A chill ran through Aurilius' spine. His face remained impassive as he turned to Kildorf "De Galle's doing?" he asked disinterested.
A chuckle drew his attention towards Grindelwald "Quite." He said with a twist of his lips. He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes shining with shimmering power "We have suffered enough casualties in this war…we have inflicted many on our enemy but now" he waved lazily "with the situation in the East, we must be careful with the men under our command. As such, we are…a little bit more creative with how we utilise our forces."
Aurilius said nothing to that. He did not need to know what creativity meant in this case for it would only mean another heinous act.
"Will you be going?" he asked of Grindelwald who shook his head.
"Belgium isn't the only place they seek to hit. I'll be needed elsewhere. Between you and De Galle, you should be more than fine to deal with the ICW" Grindelwald stated. Aurilius wanted to scoff and rebuke at Grindelwald but he held his tongue for nothing good would come from it.
"Will I be in command?" he drew back to the question at hand…to the assignment he was given.
"No." Grindelwald answered "The men will go with you but you…" he said with piercing eyes "You will be needed for your…other talents" he said with gleaming eyes.
He clenched his jaws as he averted his eyes away from those mismatching eyes. "We agreed not to use me like that again." He said in a low tone.
The temperature in the room dropped as silence reigned. He could feel the swirling magic in the room…not oppressive…not yet.
"Leave us" a cold commanding voice, a voice that sounded like an insistent jackhammer emanated from Grindelwald that reverberated in the room and within moments, the three others in the room departed as commanded.
"Aurilius…" Grindelwald said his name in a mocking acidic tone that he couldn't help but be forced to acknowledge…forced to draw his eyes towards Grindelwald.
He firmed himself as he got drawn in the terrible visage of Grindelwald as his face almost covered in half shadows, every little bit a Dark Lord that he is. His pale hairs was swept behind his face exposing his sharp features of his face as Aurilius met Grindelwald's eyes that showed barely concealed power.
"My Lord" he said as he bowed his head "We…agreed that I no longer had to fight." He said in a voice so low that it seemed like it was a murmur.
"Look at me." His voice was enticing, luring like a siren as Aurilius couldn't stop himself from meeting those dreadful eyes again. The shadows on his face departed, his face no longer looked darkened as a false smile plastered on his face, a false smile that did not seem false but that he knew was false.
"I know I promised that you no longer had to fight, that you no longer had to take life but necessity makes us all do things that we do not want to do" Grindelwald sighed in a pained way before he shook his head "Do you think I'm pleased that I have to break this promise I made you? That you no longer had to do things like this again?" He looked at Aurilius with such sympathy that Aurilius almost forgot how false it was.
"We are on a precipice, Aurilius, one that will define the world." Grindelwald's eyes blazed as fervent determination set on his face "The ICW and the other fools believe that separation is what is good for our world…that it is necessary" he sneered callously as he narrowed his eyes "They intend to reduce magekind to nothing more than children hiding in cupboards under the stairs, away and disconnected from the world that rightly belongs to us all.
They seek to destroy the dreams of all of us that wish to be free" he passionately said the last word "Those of us who see the dangers the muggles represent, those that see the insanity of hiding brings to our people Aurilius when the muggles are free to rape, pillage and destroy this world that we were meant to rule" Grindelwald's eyes shone in fanatical, in zealous self-righteousness "Aurilius…" he began again in a low whisper that carried through the room as Aurilius stood transfixed on Grindelwald. "You know how the muggles are…" his voice was feathery…light and carried through the room. It belied the insidious meanings behind his tone.
"I do know how they are" he gritted out as he stared at Grindelwald…
'I know how you are too…'
Grindelwald smiled a tiny smile "Yes you do don't you?" he said in a conversational tone before he grew serious again "That is why I need you in Belgium to do this one thing for me, Aurilius. They cannot be allowed to gain a foothold there and you are necessary to ensure that our dream stays alive…" he smiled warmly at Aurilius.
"…My friend…do this for me and I will see to it that our research focus is put on your lady friend…" Grindelwald's eyes gleamed "The more damage the ICW take, the less people are needed on the frontlines and more can be dedicated to what you seek to find. I would be able to dedicate more of my time as well." Grindelwald leaned back in his chair "So you see…" His eyes were unblinking as they stared at Aurilius, devoid of warmth, devoid of care "It is in our best interests…in all of our best interests that the ICW is defeated in Belgium"
Aurilius eyes hardened as he clenched his teeth. Always that…always that…
"Very well." He said in an even tone that didn't show how much he was resigned to be bound to Grindelwald for the foreseeable future.
There were only a few people as far as he knew that could help them. He'd gone to Asia in search for the origin of the curse but he found nothing…only that it was a curse that originated from Portuguese mages in the late 1500s. That meant a cure would only be found in the ancient libraries…if he was lucky.
Unfortunately for him…for them…Grindelwald was the best option they had. He was persona non grata to the ICW for what he did in 1926 and the things he's done since…
No one who worked with or for the ICW would aid him and most nations fell under their banner.
He had no choice but to rely on Grindelwald…and his promises...
Grindelwald got up from his seat, his magic slowly drawing back into himself as he walked over towards Aurilius who remained in his seat. He walked around the table, towards Aurilius at a sedate pace as he glided on the ground.
He stiffened when he felt Grindelwald's hands on his shoulders…touching him in a tender, caring way. "You might be concerned about the notion that I broke one promise, what is to stop me from breaking another" Grindelwald said in a smooth soft tone.
Aurilius said nothing back before Grindelwald continued "I can only say that I will not break that promise for it is a promise that I have given you wholeheartedly and completely."
"Even if the necessity arises?" Aurilius says in a soft contemptuous tone. Grindelwald's hands tighten slightly on his shoulders before they relaxed again.
"I do not see the necessity ever arising where I will go back on my word on that." Grindelwald's hands left his shoulders before he walked away towards the doors. "After all, the only time that might happen is if your…loyalty is in doubt." Aurilius's head turned sharply as he stared at the back of Grindelwald's head with barely constrained anger.
Anger at being called disloyal or because of how he was holding this over him, he did not know.
Grindelwald turned his head slightly, almost glancing over his shoulder "Which of course will not happen given how…close we are, my friend." He said in a honeyed voice before he straightened out "I expect you to be there within a few days." He said in a calm tone that belied the threats that were within his words before he walked towards the double doors that opened as he approached before he walked out of the doors, leaving Aurilius alone in the room, shaking in his seat.
Shaking from anger, shaking from the threats and warnings. Shaking from helplessness.
He was forty-one years of age and he still had little control over his destiny.
He closed his eyes momentarily. He had no choice but to comply and do as he was bid. The cost would be too high…too much for him to deny him.
He arrived with a soft crack at the gates of a detached two floor house on the edges of Dusseldorf. It was dark outside, the weather beginning to turn from winter to early spring. The gates creaked open as he waved his wand at them and walked up the path towards the house until he arrived, opened and walked through the door.
He sighed briefly before he entered the living room. He smiled to himself as his eyes zeroed in on the woman who sat perched onto the sofa, her legs underneath her body as she bit on the end of a pencil. Her long silky hair fell to her sides, just about not covering her face completely from the angle he was coming in from. She should have heard him coming in but she was, presumably, deeply engrossed into a particular word puzzle in a little puzzle book that they'd picked up the other day.
"Nagini" he said full of warmth, attempting to draw her out of her concentration. She looked up from the puzzle book and their eyes caught and a wide smile came across her face as she bounced up from her seat towards him. He walked towards her and engulfed her in a hug.
He melted in her warmth, his hands travelling to the bottom of her back as he held her softly. He'd never known what love was…what it was meant to be. He'd hoped to find it from his family…from his mother or father if he ever found them and yet it had been right in front of him all this time.
He'd been too focused, too obsessed back then to know what he'd found in Nagini and only afterwards, only after the disappointment, the heartbreak, was he able to truly see her for what she was to him when she'd comforted him…when she said she'd stay with him until…
He broke up the hug and held her by the elbows before he leaned in slightly and kissed her softly on the lips.
She moaned into his kiss before she broke it off and looked at him with an endearing smile "You distracted me from my puzzle" she said in a playful manner.
He chuckled softly as he raised his hand and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand "My apologies. Were you close?" he inquired with a small smile. She pouted.
"No." she said causing him to laugh a little "But that's beside the point" she said with a mirthful look in her eyes.
Soon enough they were on the sofa with her in his laps, her head on his chest. He basked in the closeness…the deep love they shared. The love that had an expiry date that was soon arriving.
"I have been told to go Belgium." He spoke up for the first time in an hour, breaking the comfortable warm silence they shared.
She removed her head from his chest and narrowed her eyes. He ignored as he looked away "The ICW is moving to dismantle his work and I have to go and stop them" he said in an emotionless tone.
"What about the promise?" she said in an unhappy tone that almost sounded distressed. "You aren't meant to fight anymore. He agreed" she almost hissed out.
He turned to her with saddened eyes "I know. And it doesn't matter."
She removed herself from his lap and paced "Then nothing he agreed to matters Credence" she said as she stopped and stared at him with anger in her eyes.
Only she still called him that…She was the only one who knew that he was still truly Credence for the most part. Aurilius was a mask that he wore for the world and Credence was who he was to her and to himself.
He'd never be able to get past that. His name linked him to his most painful experiences and yet it linked him to his greatest for she was the greatest thing in his life. Worth everything he'd ever do, great or terrible.
He shook his head "No. He promised he would find a way and we have to believe that Nagini" he got up and she distanced herself and he sighed as he glanced at her.
"Nagini, this is our only choice" he murmured softly.
"It isn't" she replied looking at him with pity in her eyes, eyes that he hated when she showed resignation to her fate. Fate that he did not accept.
"Yes it is" he said through gritted teeth "I won't allow you to fall to your maledictus Nagini, there is a way to cure you and we will find it" his eyes flashed angrily.
She smiled sadly at him as she walked towards him, her hand softly touching his stubbled face. "It is my fate Credence…" he began to shake his head but was stopped as she put a firm hand on his face forcing him to look at her soulful eyes. It was unfair…
"It was the fate of my mother, my mother's mother and so on going back centuries. It is what happens to children of my line. I have accepted that fate." She told him gently.
"I haven't" he hissed out as he removed her hand from his cheek "I refuse to let you go into your curse without exploring every option."
She stared at him in a disconnected way "Even if it means working for a monster?" she said quietly.
"Even if I am working for the Devil himself" he said in a fervent tone. "You are everything to me Nagini." He said passionately, his face contorting in a pained way "You were the first to show that you cared for me, you were the first who helped me without anything in return, you were the first to show me friendship" he smiled wanly "You were the first to show me what love is…" his eyes hardened "I cannot, will not let you succumb to the curse."
She sighed and looked away. "My life is not worth the blood you'll spill. Especially for a promise that we both know will not be honoured." She said quietly in a calm tone, in a tone that almost devoid of emotion.
He closed his eyes. That was the crux of the matter. Grindelwald promised but what was it worth…would he truly honour it? Has he even found anything?
All of it depended on their faith in the man that they had no faith in, the man who has been tearing apart both worlds, committing heinous crimes, heinous acts that made him feel sick and there was nothing that he could do to force Grindelwald to do as he promised.
He was powerful, very powerful but he didn't have Grindelwald's experience nor did he have his power. He was mostly likely the second most powerful next to Grindelwald but it was a chasm that he was unable to fill.
And even if he was able to match Grindelwald, what could he do? Grindelwald held all the cards, all of the things that he needed to solve the maledictus that Nagini was suffering from.
Even now, her time as a human shrinks every day. When they'd met, she was able to remain human sixteen hours of the day.
Now…
Now, at most she had six hours each day that she could spend as a human, most of those hours were spent with him. And that wasn't the worst of it too…
Before, she'd been more emotional…capable of remaining focused. That was slipping from her every single day. She was turning colder and colder as time went by and he was watching this happen…helpless.
A lone tear fell from his eyes as he reopened them, as she stared at him with those beautiful black eyes of hers. A flicker of emotion reappeared in her eyes as she watched him. Her hand tentatively reached up to his face, her thumb wiped away his tear.
"We had seventeen years, Credence" she smiled in a sad warm way "We still have some more to go…let's not spend the time we have remaining fighting over things we cannot change" she said before she kissed his cheek and drew back, meeting his eyes for a few moments before she returned to her puzzle book and twirled the pencil in her hand.
"Will you help me? We still have just under a few hours left before I change" she called out as he stared at his feet, his hands clenched.
He couldn't be angry at her…it was misdirected. She'd given in to fate long ago, he knew this. Long before they'd met. Long before she'd joined the circus. She'd vowed never to have children like her ancestors had done despite being afflicted with the curse.
Something that he never knew he wanted until he realised how much he'd loved her. Another thing that was robbed from them. His eyes turned to steel.
He'd do what Grindelwald wanted and he'd get the cure from him even if he had to damn his soul for it. She was worth everything.
A flash of fire distracted him and his trusty friend arrived with a song that lifted his spirits as Fawkes flew and perched on his stand.
"Thank you Fawkes" Nagini said warmly, speaking for both of them. Fawkes crooned softly, his voice trilling kindly before he picked at his feathers under his wing and Nagini turned back to her puzzle.
He nestled his chin in the crook of her neck as he watched her fill in the puzzlebook.
"Abacus" he said as he watched her struggle with finding the next word.
She rubbed her cheek against him "Thank you!" she said appreciatingly.
He'd do anything to keep this alive. To keep her like this.
She was his family and he would do anything for his family.
