August 14, 1995.
Malfoy Manor, though undoubtedly extravagant inside and out, full of elaborate ornaments fitting perfectly into the residence of an aristocratic family, was at the same time as gloomy as ever. The exceptions to this were summer days - when the sun was shining, rising or setting - but despite this, the place still seemed to harbor something dark and seemed to communicate it in every possible way. In this particular and particular case, however, the warning was rightly sent to anyone, even if they were just looking at the huge estate. All this due to the presence of what could best be described as a dark entity, which is actually a cross between a man and a snake with crimson eyes, which made him something much more than human.
Lord Voldemort and two of his most trustworthy and still free henchmen gathered together in the drawing room, where the dark lord took his place in a large and plush armchair, while two of his interlocutors sat across from him in similar armchairs.
The first from the right was a pale man with a pointed face, light blond hair and cold gray eyes. Dressed in dark and flowing robes, and in his right hand was a staff with a head important as a handle, in which the man carried his wand. It was Lucius Malfoy, the proud patriarch of the family and once the Dark Lord's right-hand man. Now, however, as he himself sensed, his position was much weaker and he no longer enjoyed as much trust as before. However, he was not discouraged by this fact, because of the simple belief that the successes he would soon achieve, despite some complications along the way, would give him an equally great position and influence once again. Although his subtle and behind-the-scenes attempt to expel the boy-who-lived from Hogwarts had failed, Lucius was still optimistic about it. On the contrary, he already had some ideas for exploiting not only the Minister of Magic's recent hostility towards the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but also how to make his life miserable and use the situation to the advantage of the Death Eaters.
The other man in the living room was a slim and quite tall man with sallow skin, a large, hooked nose, and long, greasy hair hanging loosely. Dressed in flowing robes unadorned, and on his lips was always present a stoic calmness that seemingly could withstand literally everything and even the most exciting situations that only a human being can imagine. Severus Snape, Potions Master in Hogwarts, and one of the most talented people in the field of potions not only in the British Isles, but also in the whole world. His emotions were much harder to read, and betrayed nothing but complete composure. Even so, a trained observer might have noticed some very well concealed inner tension directly related to sitting across from the dark lord.
Although it might seem strange and incomprehensible that only two Death Eaters met with their master, while the rest remained absent. By no means was it due to his whim, but pure pragmatism. Put simply, the vast majority of former Death Eaters are, due to the revelations of Harry Potter, after the unforgettable ending of Triwizard Tournament, being watched more or less formally by both Aurors and journalists, ready to start writing articles about the moves of former Death Eaters, or about the new the activity of people who, during the first reign of the Dark Lord, were supposed to be under the influence of the Imperio Curse.
This could, despite the strenuous efforts of the current Minister of Magic - who, according to the knowledge provided to the Dark Lord by Lucius Malfoy, was to dream up a scenario according to which the Headmaster of Hogwarts conspired to seize power in the Ministry - lead to an undisputed exposure of Voldemort's return, for the wider public who, out of convenience or genuine skepticism and lack of completely convincing evidence, were unaware of this fact. The small and much easier to hide meeting, in addition to the magically secured area, was the least risky.
As for the three, for the first twenty minutes of the meeting, they were hotly discussing potential methods of action and what they actually intended to achieve in the near future. Basically, it was Lucius and Severus who led the discussion between themselves, while the Dark Lord merely brought the subject up and listened to the conversation between them so as to always have the last word in the discussion, thus making it clear that he was above minor quarrels between his servants.
At this point, however, the discussion between the two simply began to be futile and fruitless. Essentially, both have become entrenched in their beliefs about how to operate, and despite many arguments, the whole thing has stalled.
The Dark Lord at some point decided that enough was enough, and decided to speak. "At this point, it would be undesirable to give any information, or in the past, any indication of my return. It would also be foolish to let some of the people involved suggest that former Death Eaters may have started to regroup and re-organise, at least it would be foolish at this point."
This immediately caught the attention of two of his servants, but it was Severus who spoke first. "What exactly do you mean, my lord?"
Voldemort gave him a calm but unambiguous look. "I mean, we'll have to proceed to get my remaining minions out soon, but not right now."
Both Death Eaters nodded at his decisions, as they were well aware that the decisions made by the Dark Lord should not be questioned. In the past, there was a group of people among the most important Death Eaters who questioned Voldemort's judgment in a rather loud and ostentatious way. None of them met a happy ending, to put it mildly.
"Let me also point out that some attempt to discredit Harry Potter so far has produced satisfactory results." The dark lord turned to Lucius, and looked straight into his eyes. "Nevertheless, apart from the obvious praise of the effectiveness of this campaign, I must strongly express some words of disappointment regarding the fact that the success was not complete.
Lucius Malfoy, being proficient and extremely talented in the art of Occlumency, was able to keep his composure despite the fact that these words were directed against him and against his planned operation to get rid of the Boy Who Lived from Hogwarts.
"Well..." Lucius cleared his throat to start his excuse for failure anyway. Insignificant, but still a failure. "Mrs. Umbridge was duly instructed by me and agreed to perform this task, even without accepting any financial gain. Sending the Dementors to force Mister Potter to use the Patronus Charm ended up exactly as we would have liked. before the Wizengamot, I cannot be held responsible, especially since I gave the Minister proper instructions on how to proceed before the trial."
"It's unfortunate that the plan wasn't fully carried out, but now that minor setback doesn't matter that much. For as far as I know, the tension between Fudge and Dumbledore has only been inflamed by this trial." The Dark Lord had no intention of blaming one of his most important servants for this really insignificant defeat. Especially since other and perhaps even much more important benefits have been achieved.
"Indeed, my lord." Lucius replied after a short while, during which he was no doubt considering the best choice of words. "Now the Minister's paranoia has grown to such a great extent that due to his decree, which is about to be passed, the new professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts will be appointed Mrs. Dolores Umbrigde. Personally, let me say that the escalation of this dispute is only a matter of time, probably a few months."
"In that case, it's a moderate success, but now it's time to move on to another, no less important issue." The Dark Lord's gaze rested on the Potions Master, who, however, stoically did not try to escape from his gaze. "Your information provided to me so far is undoubtedly useful, but I fear it is still not enough."
Snape frowned slightly and slightly at his words, but kept his composure nonetheless. "What exactly do you mean by that, My Lord?"
Voldemort smiled, clearly enjoying the tension, but he didn't let it last too long. "I think you could use someone new to help you. Someone who could be spying on a much wider range of people than just Dumbledore at the same time, and perhaps provide me with no less interesting information. Me and Lucius have discussed this in detail before. There's no doubt that extra help will be invaluable to you."
The raven-haired Potions Master was visibly surprised, and his eyes rested briefly on Lucius, who, however, seemed surprised that Snape was unaware of such a fact.
Regardless, Severus decided to stay calm and looked the Dark Lord straight in the eyes once again. "Who is it supposed to be? As previously agreed, the new professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to be a Ministry envoy, so I don't think the Headmaster will have any vacancies in teaching positions."
The Dark Lord's sly, deceitful, sinister and above all inhuman smile only widened dangerously at these words. "But Severus, you should know perfectly well with this knowledge that your new agent and collaborator will be a student who, on my recommendation, is transferring to Hogwarts this year. From what you've told me about your life since my temporary downfall, you should have no problem recognizing a certain young man you tutored in Potions, both theory and practice. To make it easier for you to recognize him, he is the son of one of my war dead and most loyal supporters, from Germany, actually from the Magic Reich."
Severus almost instantly and easily guessed who the Dark Lord was referring to. But before he could do anything about it, Voldemort continued.
"I invited him to this meeting today, and he should be arriving soon in a rather… extravagant style, at least by the standards of this Magic Country."
The Dark Lord walked over to one of the windows a moment later, after applying a cloaking charm, and it wasn't long before the other two followed him. Severus couldn't hide his surprise when a stagecoach began approaching Malfoy Manor with increasing speed, undoubtedly made of black wood, with many gold or silver ornaments. As if that wasn't enough, the stagecoach was pulled across the sky by as many as six Pegases. They were very rare animals, found mainly in the Balkans and Scandinavia. Muggles could easily describe them as winged horses. However, such a description did not fully reflect their many magical properties and majesty, these white creatures.
A few moments later, first the Pegases and then the stagecoach itself, landed on the gravel road, whereupon the coachman leading the whole thing reached the steps leading to the Manor, and only then stopped. Thereupon the coachman jumped to the ground as quickly as possible, and in undoubted haste opened the door to let his master go.
The youth who then came out of the middle, not exactly what one would expect from a wealthy scion of an aristocratic and influential family. He was - literally - a silver-haired youth who would turn fifteen in three days, and his dark emerald eyes seemed to be a perfect representation of the light emitted by the Killing Curse. As for the rest of his body, he was quite tall, even for a teenager of his age, and evidently broad-shouldered, but not particularly muscular or lean, just normal in that respect. Coming back to the hair issue, besides being literally pure silver in color, it was also quite short and mostly swept to the left side, with the exception of a few visible strands falling to the right or forward and over the young man's round face. At the same time, the roundness of his face wasn't ugly or repulsive, on the contrary, everything seemed to fit together perfectly and give him the appearance of quite handsome.
As for his wardrobe, it was full of white, mixed with gold and other bright colors, which made up quite elegant patterns. Beneath the snow-white coat with the collar turned up and full of gold or dark blue ornaments, there were matching trousers of the same color and a light gray waistcoat with gold buttons. In his right hand, the young man held an elegant cane, the head of which was made so as to perfectly reflect the head of a black eagle in an appropriately adjusted scale. Moreover, one thing in the pure black youth's wardrobe was his high-soled shoes with a small heel. In this respect, he was an aristocrat in the purest sense of the word who, after politely thanking the coachman, headed for the great gates leading to the great mansion.
Whatever one may say about the young man, he did not resemble the typical, stereotypical follower of Lord Voldemort. Instead, the feelings that emanated strongly from him were moderate joy and tons of strong energy, full of obvious steadfastness or rather great zeal. Despite this, it was impossible to hide the fact that the cane had an extremely practical function at the moment and thanks to it, the silver-haired man could move without much difficulty, despite his constant limp. All this was caused by the deformation of his right leg as a result of two diseases he suffered in his youth. Osteomyelitis, a disease that sometimes occurs among Muggles and people with magic, is not dangerous, and even if it was cured it would not be the slightest problem, even for a mediocre healer. In this case, however, Osteomyelitis was cumulated with an extremely vicious type of Curse of Blood that was thrown at one of his ancestors, which attacked the silver-haired man but treated him kindly, given the alternative of losing an entire limb down to the knee.
As soon as the young man entered, he almost immediately encountered an extremely beautiful and blond woman in her forties, in a black, but undoubtedly warm and comfortable dress, waiting for him. He recognized her immediately, for there was no mistaking this woman for anyone else.
"Frau Malfoy, I am very happy to see you and to be greeted by you." The silver-haired man greeted him in his trademark accent, which put some rather strong emphasis on the 'r', and his eyes shone with sincere joy at the opportunity to see the mother of one of his best friends. "I trust things in Britain are going our way."
Narcissa Malfoy extended her hand towards him, and the silver-haired young man without thinking took it and kissed it with all the elegance and grace required in such a particular case, which was required from a member of high society. Undoubtedly, this man was well prepared in the field of etiquette, and this was only a small indication of it.
"I'm glad to see you too, Athalbraht, I only wish we could see each other more often like we used to." A blonde-haired forty-year-old answered him politely. "As for the affairs and what is going on in Magical Britain, your presence on this particular day should be thought-provoking enough."
"Indeed." Athalbraht nodded to her, but then his smile reappeared on his lips. "But as for my presence in your home, I regret that too, but it's not my fault that traveling around the world is so fascinating and at the same time informative. Over the past two years, I've finally been able to see how big the world is, how magical society is, and how many possibilities it all has to offer. At the same time, my trip to Magical America this year was extremely fruitful. I was finally able to find a suitable replacement for my old and destroyed three years ago wand."
Narcissa gave him another warm smile. "Draco will be delighted to hear all your stories. I have to admit that very often he was tempted to join your escapades and travels, but I'm not so sure about that, Lucius either."
"Herr Malfoy must not allow his family's sole heir to seem like a troublemaker." Athalbraht didn't even ask, just stated what was met with an almost immediate nod from his interlocutor. "I'm not surprised and to be honest, I totally understand that. Having been a guest at many of the parties here at Magical Britain, it's not hard to see how big the difference is between the high society here and those at the Magical Reich."
The blond-haired woman couldn't hold back another smile when she heard more words from the mouth of a quite brilliant and smart young man. In principle, Narcissa herself would never admit it in any conversation, but Athalbraht was slightly smarter and more capable than her own son, Draco, although the difference was small, at least when comparing the abilities of these two young people only on the academic level. But what most distinguished the young man in front of her, from her own son, was the Athalbraht's lack of animosity towards half-breeds, Mudbloods, or others that much of the rest of the purebloods would never consider their equals. However, the silver haired man also never did anything to help those who were discriminated against because of their blood status, or at least Narcissa herself had never heard of such a case. This could be due to the fact that among the majority of the upper classes such a thing was not recommended and did not increase popularity, by any means. Narcissa and her husband made sure that the young man understood this, and he took it to heart so well that he always kept his opinion on such matters to himself.
"Basically, and as you are probably aware, in the Magical Reich, social status, in the case of me and other nobles, is essentially immunity from most offenses and even some minor crimes, but it's more a matter of the Reichsminister of Magic himself and the sentence, that the Magiestag may issue."
"I can imagine." Narcissa murmured quite quietly, but very clearly at the next words of the young silver haired man. "However, you're right, it's not the Magical Reich, so here high-class people, especially pure-bloods, can't do as they please, given that our power and influence depends heavily on our reputation. Besides, you don't have to be so formal, Braht."
They exchanged pleasantries for a few more seconds, then began walking deeper into the mansion. On the way, discussing two more topics. In the first, Athalbraht wanted to find out a bit more details about the current political situation in Magical Britain, because this topic had eluded him quite significantly due to his concentration on something completely different and where he lived. In the case of the second issue, the silver-haired man tried to find out the reason for Draco's absence, but it wasn't as complicated as the previously discussed one, because the blond-haired teenager is currently at home with one of his friends.
After a few minutes of walking, Narcissa and Athalbraht stood in front of a door of high quality wood and many ornaments leading inside. Before that happened, however, Narcissa decided to make sure that her son's friend fully understood the situation in which he now found himself. There was not even the slightest room for understatements or mistakes, because everything could ultimately - in the worst case - end in his death. The Dark Lord was not someone to play with.
"braht." Draco's mother began by once again using the shortened version of the name Athalbraht, which served as the silver-haired youth's nickname. "You have undoubtedly received a letter from my husband, with quite clear content."
Athalbraht just nodded quickly but firmly, and Narcissa took that as a sign to continue. "So I don't need to tell you who's waiting behind that door or what that might mean, especially when faced with the use of inappropriate or unfortunate choice of words."
"I fully understand that and the potential ramifications of not being a child anymore, Narcissa." He answered her by name, then turned to face her, this time with dead seriousness. "I am well aware that this man to whom my father swore allegiance has returned to the world of the living, and who will now demand loyalty from me. I have no doubt that this will also be one of many tests of my loyalty, but I don't mind."
"Why?" Narcissa asked, slightly intrigued by his words and not even trying to hide it.
"Because serving the Dark Lord gives me the opportunity to achieve what I want, and what I believe will be necessary for our - and not only - future." A smile appeared on his face once again, a smile as cheerful as it was possible at the moment. "You don't have to worry about me, I know all too well the stories of people who have failed unser Herr in the past. I will not follow in their footsteps and intend to follow his orders to the letter, and I have already submitted my transfer papers to Hogwarts."
"Transfer to Hogwarts?" Narcissa was torn by two completely contradictory feelings. On the one hand, concern about ignorance and the potential content of the task the Dark Lord could potentially entrust to a friend of her only son. On the other hand, the joy that Athalbraht and Draco will be able to spend a lot more time together than in the last few years. "I believe it was one of the first orders our lord gave you."
"In fact, I received a pretty clear suggestion in a letter that it might be helpful to me on an assignment." Athalbraht replied, then his gaze rested once more on the elegant door leading to the drawing room. "Regardless of that, I can't say more on the subject, and we've definitely kept the Dark Lord waiting too long for my arrival."
"Right!" Narcissa replied a little nervously, because only now did she realize how many minutes had passed since his arrival. "But before you go inside, will you need anything?"
"Only a guest room until the school year starts." replied Athalbraht. "Besides, I have all the necessary personal items and a change of clothes in my luggage, it's not that much and I think it should be more than enough. Let it be delivered to the room chosen for me, I have nothing more to add."
After these words, he took a deep breath, during which he undoubtedly consolidated and tried his best to prepare all the knowledge and experience he had gained regarding the Occlumency. He might have mastered it, but he was still a fifteen-year-old who hadn't yet reached his full potential, and yet he couldn't quite match his adult skills to the extent he'd like. Only when he became completely sure, he knocked several times on the door with the knuckles of his left hand, on which, as on the right, a white glove was put on.
It wasn't long before the big door opened and Narcissa decided to leave the place and prepare everything for the guest and basically a family friend. Meanwhile, Athalbraht, confidently moved forward, using the cane on this occasion to support himself and move rather effectively. He stopped, however, after a few steps, when Lord Voldemort himself appeared to his eyes. The silver-haired youth had heard from some of his father's old friends, who were and still are Death Eaters, that the Dark Lord was to change so much after his rebirth that he no longer looked human at all. A creature that was a snake-like effect of the Dark Arts, with blood-crimson eyes that seemed to try to penetrate the soul of the silver-haired youth. Beside him, however, stood Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, who seemed to be definitely curious about the potential reaction of Athalbraht, especially since they both had some form of relationship with the young man.
Lucius, was the father of one of Athalbraht's oldest and best friends, and gave him a lot of advice or help in the field of magic, more specifically in the field of Spells or several other and slightly darker areas of magic, such as Curses. Meanwhile, Severus was no less important to the young man, because he had - whenever there was an opportunity - well-paid tutoring in the field of Potions, or, like a year ago, in the Alchemy. It was also Severus Snape who tutored him in the field of Occlumency and it was he who was able to bring the silver-haired young man's skills in this field to such a great level that many teenagers can - very often at least - dream of.
It took a few moments for Athalbraht to recover from the shock, and then, stony-faced, he walked towards the waiting trio. His gaze shifted constantly, and rested once on Lucius and once on Severus, but it was hard to ascribe any deeper meaning or emotion to it. In fact, and as these two knew, the Athalbraht's ability to feel any deeper emotions or form social bonds was greatly underestimated compared to most humans. It was also one of the reasons why the young man managed to master Occlumency to such an extent.
"Halt!" The Dark Lord commanded, and Athalbraht stopped a few meters in front of him and stood as if he had been petrified by some Curse or some other Spell. Nevertheless, he did not forget about elegance, for he placed the staff with the head of a black eagle in front of him and rested both hands on it.
For a moment - almost a full minute to be exact - the two wizards stared at each other. The first, with power and knowledge almost rivaling the infamous Gellert Grindelwald, watched the teenage boy before him appraisingly. The second and at the same time mentioned teenager, looked back all the time, but he did it in a modest and unusual for himself, almost submissive style. It was basically a silent skirmish between the two, though perhaps that was too much to say in this particular case. The fact remained, however, that the Dark Lord was trying to evaluate the newcomer and deformed fifteen-year-old, and in the process he was trying to apply Legilimency to him, to a very advanced degree. However, to his own surprise, Voldemort realized very quickly that the silver-haired boy was really adept at the art of mind-closing. Although he was far from the level of true masters, the only reason for this was his young age and not fully developed magic. Still, it was more than proof enough of the silver haired boy's ability to control his own feelings and mind.
In fact, few Dark Lords have met many people who have tried to learn or practice Occlumency, only a few dozen of them have managed to get close to that level, and remember, we are only talking about a teenager who has not yet reached his full magical potential!
Still, this display of undoubted skill was not enough for Voldemort to allow the boy into his inner circle, for he had to gain access to his mind, heart and feelings as soon as possible to fully assess his intentions and ability to control.
However, before the Dark Lord could say anything and only slightly raised his thin and pale lips, the silver-haired boy smiled. Voldemort didn't know what that meant until all the blockades or safeguards of the teenager's mind simply began to loosen, and the Dark Lord could easily begin to delve deep, straight into the heart, mind, and generally essence of the man before him. him at this moment. Memories, thoughts and everything he was became almost like an open book for the Dark Lord, and what was found there was more than enough. Additionally, Voldemort took great pleasure in looking into a mind that was orderly and organized to the point that it almost reminded him of Severus.
The boy, although undoubtedly from an influential noble family from the Magical Reich, was technically not a pureblood, which he was well aware of. His mother, Eis Gefecht, was a Squib and died under unpleasant circumstances when the boy was only two years old. She was brutally raped and then stabbed to death by a group of Muggles who then dismembered her body. This unfortunate parentage gave the boy before him half-blood status. All this despite the fact that his father, Fritz von Gefrorherz, was a pure-blood nobleman and aristocrat who, before his death at the rather young age of thirty-five, was also one of the more powerful and significant Death Eaters, especially in the period leading up to the fall of the Dark One. Mr. Further information was no less interesting, on the contrary, because while Voldemort already knew the previous ones, the next ones he did not. The eleven-year-old boy received two letters, one from Hogwarts and the other from Durmstrang Institute. He chose the latter, recognizing that access to black magic can be much more useful and helpful in his life. In fact, the Dark Lord already at this point and after this rather superficial search of the young man's memories of his learning and education, came to the conclusion that this man would not only be a great addition to the Death Eaters, but also perfect for the mission of being a spy exactly as Lucius presented it.
Basically, Athalbraht was originally one of those types of brats who had money, power, and could do literally anything. In this case, however, it was even worse, because the young man had literally no living relatives, so the servants working in his house did literally everything to satisfy his needs and desires, often without asking for a reason, but strangely enough, the silver-haired young man always he was grateful for their loyalty and showed kindness.
Subsequent memories made it clear what happened to the boy in the following years, and that the only person who initially cared for him in any way was the steward of his estate, who was appointed to this role immediately after the death of Athalbraht's father, by the Reichsminister of Magic, to supervise all the affairs of the young man until he was eighteen years old. Apart from this fact, however, it was this particular man who decided to use the young man's talent in any sensible way, and began to find tutors for him, thanks to whom Athalbraht could easily develop in magic, in the broad sense of the word. One such person was considered one of the best Potions Masters of the time, Severus Snape. The relationship between the two seemed to be the closest to a father-son bond, despite their initial reluctance that bordered on hostility. Additional examination of his mind was no longer necessary, because Voldemort had already obtained everything he needed in this case, and he could arrange the future of the silver-haired young man in any way he saw fit.
Besides, it might sound strange, even disturbing, but Voldemort couldn't hide the slight sympathy he felt for the young man. Both are half-blood wizards who didn't have a family. Although their upbringing and conditions may have been very different, the fact was that it was only in the magical schools they had the opportunity to attend at the age of eleven that they got a taste of what life was like. The conclusions they came to were also quite similar, but to his great surprise and disappointment, Voldemort discovered that the son of one of his servants was not as brutal and cold-blooded as one might expect, but that did not make him any less cunning. or that it should have been disregarded.
"Athalbraht von Gefrorherz." The Dark Lord began, with a slow, calm and slightly hoarse voice - at least at first -. "Do you know why you were summoned here by me?"
"I guess, Mein Herr. The letter left little doubt as to my intentions and how it would affect my not-too-distant future." The Young Man replied, with his characteristic accent, and then knelt on one knee, thus paying homage to the Dark Lord. "Just as my father served you in the past and paid the ultimate price, so I consider it an honor to follow in his footsteps, Mein Herr."
Voldemort smiled at this show of loyalty for two reasons. The first was the show itself and the sealing of the silver-haired young man's fate. The second was the absence of any obstacles or potential obstacles before disposing of it in a way that suited the Dark Lord himself.
"Very well, then arise, my new servant." Lord Voldemort almost hissed the words with sheer glee, then gestured to one of the armchairs and turned to the other two Death Eaters in the living room. "Leave us alone, I have a few things to discuss with him."
Lucius, with a slight and short hesitation, but nevertheless bowed and without a word walked towards the exit, while Potions Master had some doubts about it and decided to express some doubts.
"My Lord, is it really wise to involve someone so young?" he asked, turning both Voldemort and Lucius and the slightly surprised Athalbraht to him. "We're talking about bringing this young man into the sight of Albus Dumbledore himself, one of the most powerful wizards known to the entire world. Personally, I find that way too dangerous, especially after the incident with Bartemius Crouch Junior."
Although the arguments against this were very solid, the Dark Lord had already made his decision, but he was not going to be angry with one of his most loyal followers who had remained loyal to him even after his fall and continued to follow orders. "The decision was made by me, Severus, and nothing will change that, unless it's really extraordinary circumstances. At the moment, however, nothing like that is on the horizon, and now leave us."
Snape cast a fleeting glance at the youths he had been tutoring and helping to develop his passions, or aspirations in general, for so many years, and he only nodded quickly in response and gave him a reassuring look. After that, he and Lucius left the room while Athalbraht sat down in the chair. His cane was still at his side and still in his hand, giving him a little more elegance.
The Dark Lord, meanwhile, also took a chair, set in a rather specific position so that he could face the young man. "Since my letter left no doubt, you can probably guess that you will be sent on an infiltration mission straight to Hogwarts?"
"I am fully aware of that, Mein Herr." Athalbraht nodded calmly and measuredly, and not even a trace of his warm smile remained. "I am also fully aware of the potential consequences that may result from this. I am also fully aware of the great risks involved in this mission as well as in belonging to your ranks, Mein Herr. Regardless, I'm ready to take that risk."
"Are you really?" The Dark Lord asked him in reply very matter-of-factly. "Your memoirs have made it quite clear to me that you do, in fact, tend to overestimate your own abilities. What guarantee do I have that you will not go too far, or that at some point you will underestimate a person or group of people who might stand in your way?"
The young man clearly looked at this accusation a bit, because he was aware of the legitimacy of this comment at him. After all, he knew himself and knew exactly what qualities made him the perfect person for the job.
"Mein Herr, what you say is true, but otherwise you seem to be ignoring the fact that unlike most of the pampered children of highborn aristocrats, I learned my own limits and limitations rather quickly. Honestly, I doubt it could have been any different if Herr Snape had been my longtime tutor who mentally prepared me for what life was like outside the comfortable and secure walls of my estate in Brandenburg. Personally, I have little doubt that I am the perfect person for this particular task of infiltrating Hogwarts."
"So would you be able to provide me with regular reports on what's going on there?" The Dark Lord was getting more and more intrigued by this silver haired boy who was definitely precocious.
"Mein Herr, Draco, son of Lucius, has told me many times about what life at Hogwarts is like." Athalbraht replied, and Voldemort had no problem understanding where this was going. "So I am extremely well informed about the distribution of the students into four different houses and the values they hold. I am also fully aware of the general mentality of each student in a particular house. I think in about two months or so, he could build something like my own spy network, but it would require me to be very careful in my choice of words in the conversations, and to gain the trust of many people, or at least a small semblance of trust. I even think that at the right moment I might be able to approach or even eliminate the chosen one who led to your…"
"Yeah!" Voldemort cut him off firmly, although it wasn't a scream, it sounded no less threatening. "While I undoubtedly like your analytical mindset, you are clearly about to go for too much, and for something that was never meant to be. When the time comes, I have to be the one to kill Harry Potter and that's the end of this discussion. I hope I don't have to repeat myself."
Athalbraht didn't flinch, but it was clear that he perfectly understood the Dark Lord's intentions and had no intention of even trying to oppose it. Besides, Voldemort hadn't even finished his monologue yet.
"However, you will need something to communicate with me, and given the fact that your tattoo could be easily discovered, I have an alternative solution." With these words, he pulled a silver necklace with a serpent wrapped around a sword from one of the pockets embroidered on his robes, and used magic to point it at Athalbraht. "It's a magic necklace, when you put your hand on the snake and direct the magical energy through your fingertips into it, we'll be able to make a mental connection and safely transfer information to each other, without the risk of any detection or undue interference by third parties. Besides, show me your wand now."
The silver-haired young man hesitated for a moment, but even if he did not expect this request, he did it anyway without the slightest protest. His hand went to his waistcoat pocket, and after a while he pulled out a mostly light gray stick that was 2 inches long, quite pliable. This was his wand, acquired relatively recently.
The Dark Lord wasted no time and, using his wandless spell, drew it to himself and almost immediately proceeded to a thorough examination of the magical item. "Extremely interesting and rare piece in Magical Europe. Entirely made of Vine and core of Horned Serpent horn. An interesting and quite rare combination, at least by local standards."
After these words, Voldemort, in the same way as before, handed the wand straight into the outstretched hand of Athalbraht, who accepted it all with a poker face, but did not miss the opportunity to ask a question. "If I may ask, Mein Herr, why did you check my wand so thoroughly? As far as I know, this is an item that is primarily intended to aid in the use of magic. Or should I say, as Herr Snape explained to me, serve to channel a wizard's magical energies appropriately."
The Dark Lord gave him a firm look, which, however, was not as easy to decipher or unambiguously interpret as it might seem at first glance, taking into account Voldemort's extremely characteristic and reptilian crimson eyes. "Very simplistic explanation, but not wrong. In reality, however, the whole truth is much more interesting and much more complicated. At least a lot more complicated for mediocre and low worth people, but you don't fall into that category. No, that I can say beyond a doubt, and your wand and its consequent details have made that clear to me. In fact, I'm more than convinced that you could even get a Dark Mark right now if it weren't for the quest needs."
"Mein Herr." Athalbraht began quite uneasily, then adjusted his scarf around his neck, on which a sapphire stone was located in a special silver frame. "If I can afford that audacity, I would definitely prefer never to receive this rather unique distinction because I don't want to devastate my body any more than it already is. Especially since I already have a pretty good way of communicating with you, and nothing in particular has deserved this honor."
The Dark Lord chuckled rather softly and coldly, but he had no intention of contradicting the logic of the new servant in any way. "If you insist, I am willing to make a small compromise. However, I expect the results of your work as soon as possible from your arrival at Hogwarts, otherwise or if you fail, you will feel my wrath on you, have no doubt about that, Athalbraht."
The silver-haired youth nodded quickly and quite nervously, but he didn't seem particularly frightened. So the meeting of these two quite different and at the same time quite similar people went without any major complications.
The Dark Lord left the drawing room a moment later, and it wasn't long before he was well beyond Malfoy Manor.
At the same time, Athalbraht von Gefrorherz, Kurfürst of Hessen, was still sitting in his comfortable chair, processing everything he had learned about the Dark Lord. Also not without significance was the mission given to him by this being of black magic, who could not in the slightest degree simply no longer qualify as a human.
The feelings of the silver-haired young man and the resulting thoughts were quite unambiguous, and they were small shreds of horror, mixed quite proportionately with admiration and respect. It wasn't too intense, as Athalbraht himself was very rarely able to feel any deeper feelings, and it would be clear to anyone who had known him for a while or spent enough time with him that the teenager had many of the characteristics of a psychopath who didn't feel much emotion. It would be wrong to describe him as a pure psychopath, because he understood most human feelings. First of all, the young man understood that people are different and have different hopes, ambitions and aspirations. Thanks to this, he was able to almost always charm the people he met. He also understood how different people could be, but at the same time he never cared more than his plans demanded. Essentially, the only people he managed to form any lasting emotional bonds with were his Steward Hans Bauer, the entire Malfoy's family, Severus Snape, and a few other girls and boys from the Durmstrang Institute whom Athalbraht had learned to trust and considered indispensable allies.
"Athalbraht." The silver-haired youth at first turned towards the source of the voice, then stood up and turned towards the door where Snape was currently standing.
"Severus." Athalbraht greeted him, because he had not had such an opportunity before and the elegance instilled in him required it. He also smiled warmly at the sight of someone who was almost a foster father to him. "When you once told me about what the Dark Lord was like, I initially thought it was ... something far exaggerated and had little to do with reality."
Potions Master kept his characteristic stone face and moved towards Athalbraht. "So I hope you now take all my stories and warnings about this much more seriously. Especially given these rather specific circumstances."
Athalbraht looked down at his own boots and considered his next words for a moment. "Do you have any valuable advice related to my current situation?"
Severus answered him only when Athalbraht looked up and looked straight into his eyes. "Try to carry out the Dark Lord's will as effectively as possible. If you fail or have even a minor setback, don't even try to lie. He will sense any attempt and will not tolerate lies or trickery. Also, don't try to block your memories, and at worst, manipulate it in such a way that it is believable and based on reality."
"I see." Athalbraht took a short and rather light breath, then walked unhurriedly to one of the windows and looked out into the courtyard, where the coachman was helping the house-elves unpack their luggage. "I wonder if it was a prudent choice on my part to reply to that letter. After all, only my father was a Death Eater, while my mother never had a realistic chance of getting there, for understandable reasons. Did I really have to answer and agree to accomplishing this task?"
"I'm afraid you haven't had the slightest choice in the matter since the day he returned." Snape answered him impassively and sternly, but at the same time as if he understood perfectly well his position. "The Dark Lord extends loyalty to himself not only to those who pledge allegiance to him, but also to their descendants. You are not the slightest exception to this rule. While you may be one of the first, I have no doubt that Draco will be next."
Athalbraht's stomach twisted slightly but felt enough for him as soon as the name of one of his oldest friends was mentioned. "So it all boils down to simple, 'either you follow me and my followers along with all your family, or you will be destroyed and your loved ones too.' isn't it?"
After this question, Athlabraht turned to the Potions Master almost immediately while he answered him. "It is undoubtedly ruthless, but at the same time there is quite a lot of logic in it. Even if family members of the Death Eaters remain involved, there is less chance that any of them will dare to betray the Dark Lord."
The silver-haired youth could only sigh at this explanation. "All this assuming that there will be no weakening of the Dark Lord's position or a collapse of his power."
Snape just nodded at him, and there was nothing else to add to that. Both were well aware that a potential crisis in the organization is always a great opportunity for people who are ambitious or dissatisfied with the current leadership. Basically, Snape taught the young man not only many useful things about Potions or magic in general, but also about leadership or intrigue.
"I think…" Potions Master began after a short while. "That's enough serious stuff for today. Lucius and Narcissa want to meet you in the dining room and talk to you before dinner. Also, Draco should be back soon and I'm sure he'll be hungry for stories of your world travels."
This was more than enough to bring a small smile to Athalbraht's face, and he immediately went after the Potions Master.
August 15, 1995
The oval office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, usually friendly in its atmosphere and giving people staying here a certain sense of security or comfort, could not be more different from the normal atmosphere that day. The whole reason for this, cumulative and concentrated, was around Pensieve, where the eccentric old man, Albus Dumbledore, was looking at and analyzing certain specific memories of Severus Snape who stood by his side.
To say that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was genuinely surprised by the turn of events presented to him would be quite an understatement.
In fact, Dumbledore was more than concerned, as another, quite significant, element had just been added to the whole equation. It was a silver-haired youth whose father had no intention of giving up and chose death, knowing what awaited him if he was caught. Azkaban was not in high esteem and was the perfect incentive to fight fiercely to the death.
The Headmaster looked over all of Snape's memories with pure curiosity and was more than pleased with the new figure that Voldemort had placed on the board.
Dumbledore had every good reason to regard Athalbraht von Gefrorherz as a knight, unpredictable and with great potential for manoeuvre. At the same time, with amazing adaptability and versatile use. As if that wasn't enough, the boy was extremely proficient in many areas of magic, including Occlumency.
"It seems that Tom has decided to send someone extremely talented for this particular task of infiltrating Hogwarts." Dumbledore stroked his gray beard as he considered a possible solution to this new problem. "You showed me your memories of him, Severus, but to tell you the truth, I'd rather hear your complete honest opinion."
The Potions Master sighed before answering. "Athalbraht is not the type of person he would undoubtedly be if not for my interference, or rather he will employ me as his personal tutor. Athalbraht may still be a teenager, but he is not to be underestimated. He is thoughtful, patient, methodical in his actions and definitely prematurely mature for such a young age, but if I had to point to his strength, it would be his poor sense of emotions, while understanding that everyone else has them."
Dumbledore stroked his beard once again, thinking about the information given to him. "That's probably what sets him apart from Tom the most."
"More than that." Snape interjected hastily, but at the same time he didn't seem to be a bit happy about the circumstances in which he was essentially betraying one of his most gifted students he could remember. "Athalbraht successfully uses not only this, but also his personal charm and undoubtedly aesthetic appearance. He always tries to charm people with his smile, which is a strange mixture and compromise between kindness and energy. To some extent, he reminds me of that dork, Lockhart, but he's basically infinitely more competent and dangerous. His charm is unmistakable and give him only a few weeks and I am sure that practically all students will be his good 'friends', all of whom will want to dance to his tunes."
"Such personal charm." Dumbledore chuckled softly, then his eyes and face took on something that had a lot of nostalgia in it. "Actually, at this point, it reminds me of my youth and my old friend Gellert. He had such great charm, charisma and charm that he simply had to attract crowds of people to him, including many who later became his followers."
"It should sound disturbing at the very least and should not be the object of nostalgic memories."
"I know, Severus." Dumbledore stroked his beard with a sigh. "But back to the original topic, we shouldn't make any moves against him or worry in advance at this point. Though I can't deny that you have feelings for that boy."
"He is almost like a foster son to me, perhaps that line has been crossed long ago." Snape replied almost immediately to the Headmaster's words. "I have seen this young man grow and change from an empty shell focused solely on his own pleasure to one of the greatest wizards of the age to come. Me and his Steward, Hans Bauer, practically raised him when he had literally no one else. It is perfectly natural that I have such feelings towards Athalbraht."
"Substantially." The Headmaster of Hogwarts thought about this for a moment. "Apart from what you've told me so far, will the young man pose any greater risk to my students?"
Snape shook his head in obvious denial almost immediately. "Definitely not, unless someone decides to start a fight with him. He is extremely prudent and would never choose to kill if it wasn't going to bring him a lot of benefits and be burdened with little risk. He's one of those types of people who tries not to draw negative attention to himself. Basically, from the time he was thirteen, Athalbraht began to increasingly consider all violent methods stupid, illogical, and attracting too much interest from the undesirable."
"That all sounds like a real Slytherin. Cunning, prudence and perhaps great ambition, hidden under the mask of indifference, although this is only my conjecture. Perhaps even more so than the vast majority of members of this house in the entire history of Hogwarts."
"Regardless, I'm curious what steps you'll take against him?" Snape replied quietly, then his gaze went to one of the windows in the oval office. "I can't imagine you'd ever allow someone so powerful, and acting on the Dark Lord's orders at that, to run around Hogwarts completely free and do whatever he pleases."
"You know me too well already, Severus." Dumbledore chuckled at his words and gave a comprehensive answer. "At the moment, however, there is little I can do about it as I have no legitimate reason and the ministry will be watching literally my every move. I can only order you to watch him and report any suspicious movements on his part, although I suspect he will inform you of his plans anyway."
"Actually." After a moment, Snape chuckled, which was unusual considering his usually stoic and demeanor. "Extremely interesting location, considering our roles as agents and the resulting dependencies between us."
September 1, 1995.
The last few days were very pleasant and rather peaceful experiences for Athalbraht. While nothing spectacular happened, the silver-haired youth had more than enough time to collect his thoughts and relax. Spending these last days of August, in the company of an old friend and his family, was an extremely pleasant experience for the silver-haired young man, and combined with the opportunity to tell about all the travels he had made, it was also an interesting field for purely social matters. Especially since two dinners took place at Malfoy Manor during this time, during which Athalbraht was introduced to many Death Eaters and their families, as well as a large number of descendants involved in the cause.
The silver-haired young man used his charm to gain trust and charm his interlocutors. First of all, there were Theodore Nott Sr. and his son, the entire Parkinson family, and several other families, descendants and patriarchs.
However, the event at which Athalbraht shone the most was the annual party organized by Lucius at Malfoy Manor, on the occasion of the beginning of the school year, two days before this event. While times in Magical Britain were undoubtedly dangerous and uncertain beyond a doubt, none of the powerful pure-blood families had the slightest intention of letting go of this event and the ensuing fun. Once again, there were also some big names like Nott and Parkinson, and then there were Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, Flint, Warrington and many other prominent pure-blood names. Also at this party, Athalbraht noticed two extremely beautiful girls, a tall blonde and her other, as if smaller copies of her, with whom he did not have the opportunity to talk, but nevertheless learned that they were girls from the Greengrass family. Family quite significantly impoverished over the last years and therefore not very influential, but in cordial relations with Malfoys and for this reason invited.
In particular, Athalbraht became interested in the elder of the sisters, Daphne, who had something about her that made her an extremely interesting person in the eyes of the silver-haired young man. All this despite the fact that Athalbraht himself was unable to clearly define or indicate the reason for his interest. Yes, the silver-haired young man was undoubtedly sensitive to the beauty of girls or women, especially when they were his age, but Daphne Greengrass had something extraordinary about her, which almost kept him awake the night after the party.
However, regardless of all this, the day had come when the silver-haired young man himself was to set off on his first trip to Hogwarts, as a spy and a student. The duality of roles, seemingly seemed quite difficult to reconcile, but despite this, it was not the reason why Athalbraht was repeatedly called a precocious man. Basically, he was going to start getting into the good graces of other students almost immediately after being assigned to one of the four houses. It wouldn't be difficult, because thanks to his personal charm and years of experience in interpersonal contacts, he could easily charm the vast majority of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.
Apart from that, at the moment Athalbraht was standing on Platform 9¾ with Draco and Narcissa escorting them, but Lucius was not present, as Ministry of Magic politics consumed him more and more, and all efforts to discredit the Headmaster of Hogwarts were only getting worse and worse. intensified and this man had less and less time for his family.
Lady Malfoy wished the two friends a successful school year and achieving the best possible results, to which Draco replied without hesitation that he would do everything in his power not to disappoint these expectations. Naturally, this was their fifth year of education, so there will be O.W.L. whose guiding principle has always been to test a young wizard's standard magical skills. Athalbraht personally had not the slightest doubt that he would be able to pass these tests, and even that he could help his friends in this endeavor.
It wasn't long before the red Hogwarts Express began to prepare for departure, and both Draco and his silver-haired friend hurried inside, after receiving a final hug from Lady Malfoy.
It is worth noting at this point that Athalbraht easily attracted the attention of everyone around him, and all because of his white clothes. Composed of a white and rather loose tunic, with gold buttons and gold chains attached to them. Overall, his white attire was very conspicuous, considering the slightly more subdued clothing of everyone around him. Especially since there was also his trademark cane to consider.
Finding the compartment wasn't even the slightest problem, and they were soon joined by Draco's friends recently met by the silver-haired young man. Pansy Parkinson, a pug-faced girl, but at least quite brainy. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who looked like typical bruisers and whom Athalbraht had the worst opinion of, because they clearly weren't very bright. Any opinions, however, he preferred to keep to himself, because expressing them out loud might not bring him too many sources of information.
The five made themselves comfortable in the compartment and a rather short conversation began between them.
"So, Braht, if you don't mind me calling you that?" Pansy began and continued only after he nodded. "Which of the four houses do you think you'll be sorted into?"
Draco and his henchmen became curious as well, and Athalbraht merely gave everyone an amused and nonchalant look before answering.
"Personally, I expect to be placed in Ravenclaw, given my affinity for constant research and learning."
Pansy smiled slyly at him. "So you're a nerd? That's good to know, because helping someone like you study for our exams this year can be extremely helpful."
Athalbraht only shrugged in amusement at her words. "Well, if a lovely lady like you asks me, I'll have no option but to agree. After all, who am I to refuse my friend's friend's request."
Even though Athalbraht didn't have strong emotional feelings, he had to restrain himself from grimacing at the words, because he didn't think Pansy was pretty at all, at least not at the moment. Perhaps someday, when her body would develop further and undergo the process of maturation, this girl could be considered something much more attractive than at the moment.
"Oh, you are so romantic and kind." Pansy turned to Draco after a moment. "Why haven't you introduced this lovely gentleman to us until now, even though you've known him for many years and are basically your best and oldest friends?"
"Well, you've never asked anything like that and I actually forgot to tell you about it." Draco just shrugged nonchalantly, then a sly smile crept onto his lips. "Nevertheless, the fact remains that both you and him now have a chance to catch up. However, it's only after arriving at Hogwarts and sorting it out, for now, that I think I'm going to do something reckless yet extremely satisfying, including for those who will participate."
Pansy's eyes practically popped out of place, then she immediately snuggled into Draco's shoulder with all her might, to the slight grimace of the fifteen-year-old. "Take me with you, Dracey, I'm sure I can be useful in whatever you're planning at the moment."
Athalbraht gave him a mocking look and decided to repeat the nickname. "Dracey, my beloved dragon, I am here for you and I will do anything. Just one word from you and it will be like an order to me."
Pansy's cheeks flushed almost immediately as Draco gave him a dark look. Meanwhile, Vincent and Gregory started to giggle almost uncontrollably, but only stopped when the young Malfoy looked at the two.
Before further words, Draco sighed at his friend's carefree and nonchalant behavior. "I suppose I can count on you, Vincent and Gregory."
Both boys nodded, then his gaze rested on Athalbraht. "And you, Braht? Will you come with us?"
Athalbraht chuckled at his words and rolled his eyes. "Forgive me, but if you're going to play pranks on that poor Potter boy and his friends again, I'm sorry I have to decline."
"Your loss Braht." Draco simply shrugged, then turned to the other three friends. "Well, since this issue is settled now, see you later, as it does not foresee our return soon."
After these words, the four left the compartment and the silver-haired young man was left alone, but he couldn't complain about being bored. He quickly pulled the Study of Ancient Runes textbook he had been keeping there from the inside pocket of his tunic, and then began reading the said book. This zeal for this stemmed directly from a fundamentally limited knowledge of this particular magical subject, at least until now. During his recent trip to South America, he visited several companies operating there and became acquainted with some of their employees, who further acquainted him with the very concept of magical runes, and the products operating through them. It was only then that the young man began to perceive runes as something more than just a relic from a previous era and began to be actively interested in the subject. The current situation was one of many manifestations of this.
After reading the first thirty of the approximately eight hundred pages of the manual, it became clear to him how vast and comprehensive this field of magical science was. Though from what he'd read so far, a more accurate term would be to call it a magical craft. The number of potential and proven uses of runes was really huge and was by no means limited to the production of magical items, or construction and extremely advanced architecture. Rituals, Curses, creating new spells, Ancient Magic, various other areas of magic and not necessarily legal, are just some of the many uses for runes. What drew Athalbraht's greatest interest, however, was the possibility of using runes in Magic Blacksmithing, which was a somewhat forgotten branch, neglected and not developed by the wizards themselves, and definitely more by the goblins, who, however, were reluctant to share their secrets in this field. Despite all these potential difficulties, the silver-haired young man did not lose hope and confidence that he would be able to achieve it. After all, thanks to perseverance and incredible patience, he was able to achieve a lot over the years, so there was no reason to believe that this case could be any different.
Glancing for a moment at the landscape outside the window, he noticed very quickly how beautiful the vast expanses of now England, and soon Scotland, were. In fact, he had not the slightest doubt that soon this area of lowlands, and at best highlands, would soon give way to pure highlands and mountains.
Regardless, Athalbraht decided to go back to reading after a while, though he continued to glance out the window occasionally and occasionally, eager to see as much as possible.
Time passed slowly but inexorably until the silver-haired young man reached page fifty of the manual. In general, so far simple concepts of the use of runes have been presented, and a few historical, often old examples that date back to the earliest periods of antiquity, when the worlds of Muggles and wizards intertwined without the slightest consequence, and for centuries there was nothing strange or unnatural about it. For example, Herodotus was a sorcerer, and thanks to the use of magical runes, he could easily move from place to place, record the Greco-Persian Wars, and in the process lay the foundations of the Portkeys. Meanwhile, Pythagoras, through the use of magic, was able not only to create - or rather discover several mathematical theorems - but also to live over a hundred years, one hundred and four to be exact.
"Enough." Athalbraht groaned, then rubbed his tired eyes.
He could and did not feel many emotions, and to a great extent, but he was still responsive and very prone to fatigue, just like any human being and regardless of his particular mental constitution. So, realizing that Draco and his gang might not be coming back anytime soon, he decided to get up and go out into the corridor to stretch his legs and perhaps introduce himself to a group of students, thus gaining any first contacts outside of Slytherin House.
Before he left, he stretched his bones, stretched his back, and picked up his cane, then opened the door and headed outside. But as it turned out, life, or rather fate, had the first of many unforeseen and unpredictable surprises in store for him, and he only realized it when he heard a high-pitched, unmistakably girlish scream.
At that moment, all his reflexes and instincts worked, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a very familiar blonde stumbling over his legs. Without thinking and on pure impulse, he reached out his hand with his cane to catch the falling girl. This, however, even with his rather massive figure, turned out to be absolutely impossible. In the end, both he and she fell over, but the blonde-haired girl had a fairly wide shock absorber in the form of a silver-haired young man. Both teenagers, although initially a bit stiff and with their eyes closed, mentally ready to fall, a moment later raised their pupils almost equally, and were able to look into each other's eyes, even though the girl was basically lying on his chest, her chin resting on his chest. a few centimeters below the line of the neck.
Looking now, both could make out certain details of the other's face without any difficulty. In the case of Athalbraht, the first thing he noticed very quickly was a small smooth nose, as well as the girl's cheeks. Her eyes seemed to bring to mind lapis lazuli or the purest sapphires known to mankind. As for her hair, it was long, very long, and extremely neatly combed back, and had not been damaged even by the fall, suggesting some form of spell had been used for this purpose.
They both stared at each other for a few, quite long moments, during which the seconds seemed to drag on almost forever, and from this position they were torn out by the giggles of several people. Almost immediately, the girl's cheeks began to redden and the silver-haired young man, meanwhile, tried to look at the sources of the sounds, which quickly noticed four more people standing quite nearby. The first was a rather handsome and quite tall fifteen-year-old boy with a black complexion. The other, also a boy, was quite tall, very thin, and definitely quite puny, at least in terms of pure and physical assets. Meanwhile, his brown hair, on the one hand, seemed to hang chaotically, and on the other hand, this lack of order constituted a specific order, difficult to recreate. The third was a not very tall, black-haired girl with hazel eyes and quite delicate facial features. The last one, very petite and clearly starting her third year, seemed to be a smaller but no less beautiful copy of the blonde girl who was currently lying on top of the silver-haired fifteen-year-old.
Although a drone smile entered Athalbraht's mouth and the girl could hear it without any problems, a moment later he decided to clear his throat first, and then a typically stoic seriousness appeared on his so far slightly smiling lips. "I have to ask the beautiful fräulein to get off me because I feel uncomfortable and with prolonged contact of this type, I may feel molested."
These words increased the giggles of the four watching the fifteen-year-olds lying down, and only then did the blonde decide to try to get up, but to her quite a surprise, Athalbraht was able to get up, lean on his cane and help her up.
"But I beg your pardon, for I should have waited and then left, rather than go so violently and make a beautiful girl like you, fräulein, fall on my great chest." After these words, he elegantly took her hand and gave her an equally elegant kiss. "I am Athalbraht von Gefrorherz, and using my body as a shock absorber for such a beautiful girl was a true honor that few have had the honor of receiving."
The girl blushed, and her four friends were clearly surprised by the level of boldness on the part of the fifteen-year-old unknown to them. Athalbraht looked at them, and after a brief glance remembered where he actually recognized some of them. He had met some of them at parties at Malfoy Manor. But before anything could come of it, a smaller version of the insanely beautiful blonde spoke up.
"Daphne, it seems that after so many failures and heartbreaks, you've finally found your true love." Astoria Greengrass stated, placing her hands in front of her cheeks as she looked at her older sister. "Congratulations and I hope you spend many happy years together."
Those words made the trio behind her burst into laughter, and Daphne herself blushed in embarrassment. Only after a moment, did she pull her hand away from Athalbraht, who laughed at her sudden movement.
"It would be nice if you decided to introduce yourself and tell me something about yourself, fräulein and introduce yourself." Then his eyes fell on the black fifteen-year-old and his skinny companion. "I know you from parties at Malfoy Manor. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, isn't it."
"Indeed, von Gefrorherz." A slender boy with typical British physical features replied, Theodore. "Although my father didn't introduce you to me, it was hard not to notice this extremely elegant man in aggressively distinctive white."
"Similarly, I only remember you from this white." A black youth, Blaise Zabini, replied, then a sly smile appeared on his lips. "Besides, you didn't interact with us and spent most of the time at all those parties talking to adults. Your mystery intrigued me."
"I am glad for this reason." The moment Athalbraht was about to say something more, he immediately remembered where he recognized these two extremely similar blondes and turned the matter to them. "I met you too. You're the cute and incredibly beautiful Greengrass sisters, right?"
Astoria nodded quickly and vigorously. "I'm glad you remember us. In fact, my sister and I found you extremely intriguing and wanted to meet you, but each time we either lost track of you or just got into conversations with someone else."
Athalbraht smiled warmly at her. "So I must apologize to you if I was unable to grant your wish and be able to talk to you."
With these words, Daphne Greengrass snapped out of her stupor and spoke. "Actually, I heard a rumor during the party that the last heir and hope of the von Gefrorherz family had transferred from Durmstrang Institute to Hogwarts, but I didn't take it too seriously."
"I, too, thought it unlikely at first, given some of the… constraints Hogwarts imposes on its students." Blaise interjected, then an arrogant, almost haughty smile appeared on his lips. "Specifically, those in the use of Dark Arts."
"I am not surprised by your doubts, however my transfer is now a fact and I will be more than happy to meet you all as future colleagues." Then his eyes took on an evidently mischievous expression and turned to Daphne. "I have already properly introduced myself, and while I would be happy to repeat it for such a beautiful girl, I would prefer that you also introduce yourself properly, as required by the etiquette of our proper circles."
The girl didn't blush, but instead she neatly lifted the hems of her dark green skirt and bowed her forehead to him. "I am Daphne Greengrass, the eldest of my family. It is an honor to meet the last living member of the von Gefrorherz family."
While the second part was undoubtedly an expression of sheer mockery and slight derision because of all the etiquette, Astoria's quick reaction prevented any response. "She is Daphne's younger sister, Astoria."
Next was a black boy who just gave him a friendly nod, although the sneer on his lips indicated more arrogance. "Blaise Zabini, at your service."
Next was a boy of weak physical appearance who greeted simply and briefly. "Theodore Nott."
The last one was the aforementioned girl with hazel eyes and black hair, she hesitated for quite a while to say anything, and as things continued, it became clear that she did not have the same status as the other five teenagers present. It wasn't until Theodore put his hand on her back and nodded that the girl gathered herself to answer.
"Tracey Davis." She stated briefly and paused for a few moments before deciding to say anything more. "Unlike all of you, however, I don't have pureblood status. My father is a wizard, but he got involved with a Muggle woman."
"I understand and I don't mind, much less I don't consider it a big flaw or a cause for shame, fräulein. In fact, my status is also half-blood, for my father married a descendant of one of the other bloodlines who had the misfortune of being born a Squib."
For the five of his interlocutors, this revelation seemed to be quite a surprise, because each of them looked at each other with uncertainty, but Tracey seemed to become a little more confident about it and she was no longer so timid.
"I don't understand." At one point, Theodore Nott spoke up, evidently confused by these unexpected revelations. "How could your grandfather allow your father to marry the Squib. Or maybe he was dead at that point and your father made that decision completely arbitrarily. It's hard for me to imagine any pureblood patriarch of a powerful magical family could afford such a thing."
Blaise snorted derisively at those words, while Astoria dug her elbow into Theodore's rib in response to this display of utter tactlessness. Athalbraht, however, did not care at all. On the contrary, he smiled and was glad to be able to talk to someone a little more direct than most people he was used to.
"Basically, my grandfather approved this marriage in full knowledge of the potential consequences." Athalbraht answered carelessly, as if his words had no weight and he knew perfectly well that he would cause even more confusion among the people gathered here. "Basically, we at Magical Reich have a much more liberal approach to muggle-borns or even the Squibs. There are only three things that count in determining social status, wealth, nobility or nobility, and any connection to the magical world. In fact, there is a perception among many of us that the Squibs are simply wizards whose magical energy has decided to rest only so that it can bear great fruit in the next generation, so to speak. It is true that this is just a superstition that has little confirmation in research, but it was enough for many families that were once pure blood to decide to marry their descendants with the Squibs, as a result of which such blood status is extremely rare these days, especially among older families.
His explanation was met with silence, and the surprised looks of those listening to him. It became clear that none of them expected to hear such an answer, which Athalbraht personally found quite natural, given some families' views - especially old ones - about purebloods. Very old and as senseless in his eyes as the vast majority of superstitions produced by all human societies. Whether it's Muggles or wizards. Nevertheless, the young man felt that this experience at Hogwarts could be extremely interesting and instructive, considering the potential classmates and their huge cross-section. Even though he still had the Dark Lord's order to carry out, that didn't stop him from enjoying the situation and the experience in the slightest, even if the joy wasn't very great. Given his poor sense of emotion.
AN: This is the end of my one-shot, which just had to appear sooner or later, just like SI-OC fanfic. Personally, I'm of the opinion that, given the huge amount of Fanfics in the universe of the Harry Potter, every writer sooner or later should just write something on this topic.
Personally, I like to read one or two Fanfics in that Universe from time to time, but looking through the OC ones, I've noticed that the vast majority are either focused on "good guys" or morally gray characters who are more either a third party or supportive of the main ones, original antagonists. There are very few works that decide to present a slightly different perspective, Death Eaters. Seeing this deficiency, I decided to respond to this gap and created this work.
As my regular readers probably know, I usually write about people in power or in a position of power who occupy high positions in some political or social structures. This particular case is no exception to the rule, although I decided to present something much more intriguing. On the one hand, an antagonist from a wealthy and influential family outside the British Isles, forced to join the Death Eaters and work for them. On the other hand, quite an opportunistic man and basically having a reason to support Lord Voldemort.
What I didn't mention, but it can easily be inferred, is that Athalbraht knows both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. At the same time, however, he also saw the worst side of the non-magical world, manifested primarily in the waste of resources and the exclusive destruction of the world, at least from the point of view of the magical world. What I have not mentioned, and is essential to his motivation, is his genuine and completely sincere desire to implement a system of extermination of the Muggles who, in Athalbraht's mind, are the parasites and scourge of this world. I originally intended to include a scene in this one-shot where he compares the extermination of Muggles to the slaughter of lice or rats, but I had nowhere to put it.
If any of you are interested in pursuing this or that idea on your own, I give you permission. In conclusion, I will only leave the information that the idea for the further development of Athalbraht as a character was supposed to be his slowly emerging romance with Daphne Greengrass and the resulting emotional difficulties, which he had not dealt with before.