Welcome, all of my dear readers, to the latest chapter of the Chronicles of Camelot. Before you read, I would like to tell you, that although it's a very short one, this chapter contains my first fight scene ever. So leave your opinions about what you think, pretty please?
On a different note, I have achieved triple digit reviews! In celebration, this chapter is extra-long. (Not by all that much, but still, it's a five digit word count. Another first, actually.)
So, without further ado:
There were many factors that contributed to a family's power in the magical world. Money was the most important factor, of . Then there was influence, and connections, and they all mattered. But in the end, the most important thing was, and had always been, knowledge.
The fact that one family could do something better than anyone else could, that their attempts at one or more branches of Magic would be better than anyone else, had always formed the backbone of the position and privilege enjoyed by that particular family.
It wasn't an absolute thing, there were quite a few notable exceptions, but it was there anyway.
For example, the Potter family was well respected because of their awesome contributions in the fields of warding, enchanting, and . The Houses of Black and the Bones were feared for their own necromantic talents, the Longbottoms's respected stature was owed in a big way to their extraordinary work with plants, so on.
This was especially true in terms of military ability. Excellent scholarly abilities were one thing, but there was a wholly different sort of power enjoyed by the families whose talents lent themwellthem well to battle. Again, in example, the Slytherins had their mind magic. It was a nice thing, and brought them a considerable amount of respect, but their real power was still derived from the masses of reptiles that answered to a Parselmouth's command.
These were the thoughts that occupied Harry's mind that morning of October. It was obvious, as within a few days it would be his family's extreme prowess with death and the ability to control dementors that would see his alternate identity appointed as the Chief Warden of Azkaban, a position every bit equal in seniority to the Head of the Auror office, or the Commandant of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. It wasn't quite that simple, as this dated back to agreements made all the way to the formation of the ministry, but it was the crux of the matter regardless.
Still, it wasn't all that he had on his mind. In a couple of days the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be arriving, and Harry had to consider again exactly what he would be doing in regards to them. He wasn't stupid enough to let such an opportunity pass him by, of course.
In addition to that, there was the meeting that was going to start in a few hours. It was the first staff meeting of the year, and Harry had a whole lot of things planned for it. He'd finished selecting and interviewing the teachers that would be joining the Hogwarts staff roster, not to mention the teachers who were going to be granted administrative powers.
It had been a pain extracting vows of secrecy from them till he gave them permission to reveal the information (which they would get today in that very meeting), but it was going to pay off in a big way today.
Harry smiled as he thought of the chaos he was going to cause.
He didn't know just why he was so fond of doing things like this.
Under normal circumstances, he was a serious, driven individual. But at times, there was in him a mischievous streak that he blamed his father and godfather for. That was what had inspired the whole Narcissa thing back at the world cup, and the whole thestral race thing.
He supposed it was nice for a bit of relaxation, and even better for psychological warfare. He would have scoffed at that before, but the way Snape had been acting for the last month was proof enough.
His smile deepened, as he thought of that. It had been a truly marauder thing. Having come to Hogwarts, Harry had tapped into and taken temporary control of the wards (no doubt giving Dumbledore a small heart attack), and had then cast a spell that detected every single place where the word 'Severus' was present in written form. Having found it, he had willed it to change to 'Snivellus', adding a further enchantment to make the change permanent.
It worked everywhere, from notice boards to the man's employment contract itself. The real genius, though, was in that the change was both irreversible and self-perpetuating, meaning that not only were the older records affected, but every time anyone tried to write the murderer's name, 'Snivellus' was what left the quill.
Harry had really, really enjoyed the way the man had screamed around, but he'd enjoyed the confrontation more.Harrymore. Harry had decided to attendPotionsattend Potions today, just to see Snape's reaction. Going into the dungeon, Harry smiled as he read the plaque. He had to admit it rather honestly that, 'Snivellus Snape: Potions Master.'hadMaster. 'Had a ring to it that 'Severus' seemed to miss.
The smile vanished, as he heard the screeching.
"HarryPotterHarry Potter!"
Turning around, he gave a small sigh,"Yessigh, "Yes, Granger? What can I do for you?"
"Don't 'yes Granger' me. You did this, didn't you, Harry? Why can't you stop antagonizing Professor Snape, Harry? He's a teacher!"
He gave her a bored look,"Andlook, "And?"
"And you must treat him with the respect he deserves! Haven't you learnt anything in three years of Hogwarts? How can you be so immature?"
That was about as much patience as Harry had with the harpy. With a flick of his hand, Harry transfigured the lower half of her face, melding together her lips so that no hint of them remained.
At this point, he supposed that he could have given her a nice long lecture about how his actions were not her business, and how the only person he answered to was himself. He could have explained it to her in detail that she was so insignificant that it would take her at least a hundred more lifetimes to be able to matter in the slightest to him. But the fact wasthatwas that he just didn't feel like it.
So, he replaced the spell he'd just placed on her mouth with a simple silencing charm that would leave her lips as they were but spare his ears all the same, and turned around and strode into the classroom through the now open door.
Soon enough, the man himself arrived, scowl worse than ever and his robes billowing behind him. Seeing Harry, his lip curled, reflecting his obvious disgust at the circumstances.
"How nice of you to grace us with your presence again, Mr Potter"
"Yeah, it is nice, isn't it, Snivvy? I was getting bored, so I thought why not pay the local vermin a visit. Y'know, mixing with the unwashed masses and all? And well, it doesn't really get any more unwashed than you, does it?"
Harry watched the man's face go a shade of purple he'd only seen gracing Vernon's face before. The words he was saying were almost word-to-word similar to what his father used to say in such situations, and he could see that Snape still remembered it.
To his credit, however, the man did show some of the cunning that any decent Slytherin was supposed to possess, managing to suppress his anger.
"It is evident that recent happenings have swelled your already inflated opinion of yourself." The Potions Master said silkily.". "It ishardlyis hardly surprising, what with the disgusting worms that you had for parents."
Or not... It seemed Harry had spoken too soon. Snape didn't have the required cunning after all.
"Yeah, well. It happens. I get a lost pureblood heiress for a mother and a rather arrogant young heir for a father; you get a spineless blood traitor and a drunken Muggle rapist. We can't really choose our parents, can we?"
And this sort of thing was why information networks were so important. The wizarding public knew that Eileen Prince had married a Muggle called Tobias Snape. People who had access to the correct people in St. Mungo's and the DMLE read reports of a rape and subsequent pregnancy, covered up by a hasty marriage with the groom dosed up to his ears in potions and drink.
It was no matter of love that placed SeverusSnape'sSeverus nape's birthday exactly five months after his parents' marriage, after all.
Once again, Snape somehow retained control on his temper. Turning to the rest of the class, he barked. "What are you lot waiting for? Instructions are on the board, now get to it!"
Just for the heck of it, Harry decided that he too, would make the wit sharpening potion. A snap of his fingers had his cauldron brought from his trunk to his hand, with all the knives and assorted equipment already in it. Moving over to Neville, Harry set up shop.
"Hey Neville," he said winningly,"Nicewinningly, "Nice day, eh?"
"Yeah, Harry. It is now, with how you put Snape in his place. I wish I had your courage, you know. I really do."
Harry was somewhat surprised. It was perhaps the longest few sentences Neville had ever spoken in the dungeons.
It was at this point that Harry realized one thing. Severus Snape's position, as far as Harry was concerned, had just changed.
Not in regards to his plans about the man, no.
He was still going down, painfully and brutally. No, but Snape had just become the key to securing Neville under Harry's banner. He remembered that the boy's greatest fear, a year ago at least, had been Snape.
And as far as he knew, nothing had happened that could change that.
So it meant that Harry's plans to secretly destroy Snape were now scrapped. The worm would still be destroyed, yes, but now it would be very, very public. Harry couldn't even claim to really be the inventor of this whole plan, as it was basically the same con that Dumbledore had, inadvertently or not, pulled on Europe with Grindelwald, albeit on a much smaller scale.
Even as Harry opened the link and issued mental orders to Selene to stop the preparations that had been underway about his plans for Snape, his mind, or at least a part of it, was already making new ones while the larger part oversaw the brewing of the potion.
Harry expected the bat to interfere sooner or later. He wasn't disappointed.
"So, this is what you call a Wit Sharpening Potion, Longbottom? It truly is a pity that nothing can be done about your wit." The disgusting voice said, looking over a potion that Harry knew to be perfect till that point.
"Well, here you have it, Neville. Five galleons. You were correct, after all." Harry said, plastering a disappointed look on his face.
Before Neville could show his bewilderment, and ruin the trap Harry was laying, Harry pretended to suddenly remember something, followed by a show of apology.
"Oh, I'm sorry! You said that whatever happened, we should wait till after the class to talk about the result of the bet. I'm really sorry, Neville!" Harry said, voice a perfect imitation of distress.
"What is this, Potter? You have been making bets about me?"
Hook, line and sinker.
"Well, yeah. I said that even you couldn't be stupid enough to interfere with Neville's work today, but he said that-" Harry was interrupted, as it seemed that this was the limit of whatever passed for restraint in Snape's mind.
As Snape's hand blurred into motion, diving into his pocket and emerging with a wand, Harry spoke, and with a few words and exertions of magic, wove into being a shield around the students.
Another exertion of magic stripped the headmaster's authority over this part of the wards, while yet another closed every single door in the room.
Even as Snape slashed his wand through the air, releasing what was no doubt his favourite spell, Sectumsempra, Harry raised a hand and gestured.
Immediately, the air around Snape quadrupled in density. Struggling to remain upright, he cast a series of spells, no doubt aimed at undoing whatever Harry just did.
While he did that, Harry let loose a series of Crescent slicers, piercers, and bone crushers at the man. SnaperecoveredSnap recovered just in time to cast a blood red shield around himself that absorbed each of the spells, before retorting with another Sectumsempra, and a pair of his own bone crushers.
With a thought, Harry unravelled the spells, snapping the link between the power and the intent. Abstractual magic was a pretty recent skill in his arsenal, but it was a very useful one.
Not really inclined to continue the circus, Harry released a layered set of nine separate Sumerian curses, an Indian battle spell, and four Egyptian mummifying spells. Snape put up a shield that lasted about as long as a sheet of tissue paper before a freight train, before he had seventeen separate broken bones,hisbones, his left halfrottedhalf rotted complete with Earthworms and Magpies, blindness as both his eyes went 'pop', and an immolated tongue
Just to add insult to injury, Harry conjured a fire whip, before giving it a few flicks, as he carved 'Ita semper as terroris' on the man's chest. This done, he invoked abstractual magic yet again, opening himself to the soul of all magic as he searched for the word he needed.
He remembered Slytherin's words about the will and the word. "Find the will, shape the power, and the word shall come to you."
It did. Harry was left feeling a bit lightheaded, as he felt the unnatural sounds that comprised the word of power leave his lips. He could feel its power, though. It would do the job well.
What Harry had just done was to completely erase the very concept of the words ever disappearing from Snape's chest from the weave of reality. It just couldn't be done. Not by magic, and certainly not by Muggle means.
They might try all the treatments they liked, but success was impossible, as the very outcome of the words disappearing had been burnt away from the list of possible outcomes any treatment may have.
His purpose of coming to the dungeon now satisfied, Harry left, going straight to the Chamber of Secrets.
That had been two days ago. Harry knew that it had taken Pomfrey about ten minutes to take care of the broken bones and blindness. The rot and the muteness, however, were a mix of high Necromancy and minor alchemy, meaning that removal of the curses, while very much possible, was going to be far outside the skill range of any school nurse.
Eventually, the time for the meeting came.
Harry left the Chamber, taking two secret passages that left him standing outside the office of the Headmaster in a matter of minutes. As the Gargoyle jumped out of his way, he strode up the stairs, not content to let the moving staircase carry him up the all the way.
Entering the office, Harry saw that hardly anyone had arrived. Only Dumbledore himself and a couple of other teachers were there in the office at the moment. Oh, and Snape.
"Good afternoon, people. Hello Dumbledore. Hi Snivvy!" Harry spoke, taking a seat at the right of the table that he knew was brought out from the Artefacts vault for these meetings.
To be honest, he was a bit surprised to see Snape here. It confirmed in his mind that Dumbledore must have used his influence to get Snape healed, when he heard the man speak. "Potter, you-"
"Hush, Snivellus. The adults are talking." Harry said, before a flick of his finger sealed the man's mouth.
"I must insist you stop doing that, Harry." Dumbledore said lightly, voice just as full of mirth as ever.
"See, Professor, tell him to keep his mouth shut, and I'll stop doing it for him. But that isn't the purpose of this meeting, so let it come later, please."
"And he does have to speak in this meeting, Harry"
"Oh well." Harry said, before a casual wave of his hand returned Snape's voice.
"Headmaster! He assaulted me right in front of you!" the whining voice, well, whined.
"Please remain quiet, Severus. This is not the time."
Any further retorts Snape may have made were lost, as the other members of the staff arrived.
As the room filled, Dumbledore spoke. "Welcome to the first meeting of the Hogwarts staff for the year 1994. Please be seated, as we have a lot of ground to cover."
Harry suppressed a smile, as McGonagall's voice spoke. "What's His Grace doing here, Albus? I wasn't aware he was a teacher."
"But he is the Duke of Parsellsia and Gryphonsworth, Minerva. It is well within his rights to attend whatever meetings he wishes to attend. Rest assured that the purpose of his presence shall be explained in time. Do have patience, please." Dumbledore said.
"Yeah, Professor," Harry interjected.". "Don't mind me. I'm just here to tell you of a few changes that are going to be happening around here. But that'll wait till after you all can have your usual meeting."
Harry tuned the meeting out after that, as they discussed the happenings of September. It wasn't as if he would be missing something, as his ears were hearing the words, and he would be able to review them in his mind at his leisure.
Instead, his mind turned to Voldemort.
The Dark Lord was a threat that would have to be dealt with as soon as possible, and Harry was still working out just what he would be doing in that regard.
He already controlled all of the Horcruxes. That was as much a good thing, as it was a problem. It was one of the only reasons why Harry hadn't yet created a new Vassal Lord to take the Lestranges's place. Sending a new vassal to the Wizengamot would require him to make public the fate of the Lestranges. And when Voldemort found out that he'd lost the cup of Hufflepuff there would be trouble.
As if that wasn't enough, Harry had the indications that things would soon come to a head on that front. There wasn't much that Harry had in that regard, but the signs were there for those that could see them. The missing employee who'd disappeared just where Voldemort was supposed to be, the prophecy that Harry himself had heard all those days ago, they were all signs that something big was coming, and it wasn't going to be good.
Harry was jerked out of his thoughts as he heard his name mentioned,
Looking, he grimaced. Snape was speaking "-tter is more arrogant than ever! He attacked me in my own class! And I've heard that he attacked several Ravenclaws too!"
Dumbledore responded "As I'm sure you're aware, Severus, His Grace has finishedHogwartsfinished Hogwarts. His presence here is solely due to the subject of History of Magic, and of course, his own wishes. What would you propose I do to him?"
"I don't know, throw the brat in Azkaban! He attacked me, Albus! In front of the whole class!"
Harry decided not to speak. He wanted to see how Dumbledore fielded the matter.
He wasn't disappointed. The man's voice cooled, even as he spoke."Oh, is that so, Severus? I'm afraid that the students who witnessed the incident have rather different opinions of what happened."
"Yeah, well. We'll see what opinion they have once I deal with them, won't we? I'll-"
"Do us a favour, Snivellus, and kindly shut up. I'm trying to think here." The languid drawl that was Harry's voice spoke over Snape's. As it turned out, he didn't really feel like hearing Snape screech.
"Potter!" the man snarled.". "You arrogant little-"
And there it was again. Honestly, just how retarded was he?
Harry gestured with his left hand, and Snape keeled over, unconscious. As his head hit the floor, Harry muttered. "Ooh, that'll leave a bruise."
Turning his attention to the teachers, he said "Now that the original meeting is over, and the disturbance is gone, I can start informing you about the changes to take place at Hogwarts."
"First of all, there is the matter of our caretaker." Pausing, Harry snapped his finger. To the elf that appeared, he said. "Go and fetch Mr Filch, will you, Buttey?"
"Buttey will, master" it said, before popping off.
It returned in a few minutes with the odious squib, in which time Harry took a few documentsoutdocuments out of his pocket and arranged them at the table.
Before the man could say a word, Harry spoke. "Mr Filch. On this table are four things. One is your resignation, with magically binding clauses to never again enter Hogwarts. Should you be kind enough to sign it, it comes attached with a bearer bond for two thousand galleons, also on the table.
"The other item is your letter of termination. Should you still be in the castle after sundown today, I shall be signing it. It comes attached with a letter to the DMLE, once again on the table, asking for you to be investigated for your part in the deliberate endangerment of the heirs of two Ancient and Noble houses; three if you count the fact that I am also the heir of the House of Black."
Sneering at the pouchypouch face of the caretaker, Harry continued. "By today evening, one of the two sets has to be processed by the Ministry. The choice is yours."
Harry smiled sweetly at the squib as the old man glared at him. Eventually, Filch grunted, before bending and signing his resignation. He took his bearer bond, before leaving in a huff.
"Was that really necessary, Harry? That man has served the school loyally for several years." Dumbledore said.
"Are you really asking me that, Dumbledore? That was a man who has stated, loudly and repeatedly, that his greatest wish is to torture the students he's supposed to be working for. I don't know why you kept him around, but the fact remains that he does not belong anywhere near vulnerable children." Harry said, apparently frustrated.
"Everybody deserves a second chance, Harry. You can't deny him that."
"I don't remember us being the 'Hogwarts rehabilitation centre', Professor. The purpose of this school is to teach its students. He wasn't contributing to that." Harry said, with a note of finality in his voice.
"Moving on, we come to our teaching staff." He said, before turning to where Trelawney was struggling to stay awake. Even at the distance, Harry could detect the faint smell of sherry on her. Good, as it only made his decision easier. "Professor Trelawney?" he said, raising his voice to get her attention.
"Ye-yes?" she asked in her airyvoiceairy voice.
"You're fired from the position of Divination teacher. Since we know that you lack alternative accommodations, you're allowed to remain at Hogwarts for the time being. Your severance pay, Ten Thousand galleons, is being deposited in your vault as we speak"
"What? But why?" the soon to be erstwhile Divination Professor asked now fully awake.
"You need to ask, Professor? You're quite possibly the worst Divination teacher Hogwarts has ever had. In any case, my decision is final and binding. You're out." He paid no mind as she started crying, as the pathetic little thing she was.
He supposed he was appearing rather arrogant and conceited, making judgments and decisions without even pretending to consult any of the adult staff around him. But this was necessary. He reserved his diplomatic skills for where they were needed, and the disgusting rot that had spread deep at Hogwarts could not be smoothed out. No, the only way to deal with it was to brutally, ruthlessly stamp it out till no hints were left. It was already fixed that he wouldn't be able to do that, as Snape and McGonagall were under Dumbledore's protection, so he had to do as complete a job as possible in regards to what he could do.
"Continuing, I take this opportunity to announce to you that I have arranged for my friend Lord Peverell to pay a visit to the school. He shall be exorcising the ghost haunting the history classroom, which calls itself the history professor. Again, this decision is final, and no arguments shall be entertained."
Relining in his seat, Harry continued. "After that, we come to the other subjects. It is my pleasure to announce to you, that effective immediately, the number of teachers in all of the core subjects is to be tripled, while that of the electives is to be doubled. The new teachers shall be coming in a few hours. Rooms and classrooms for them have already been prepared, and they shall take over the running of their years' classes tomorrow onwards."
This provoked a cacophony of noise as everyone tried to get explanations at the same time. Harry waited for the noise to die down, before continuing.
"To explain my last statement, this is how things are going to be."
He looked at every staff member in the eye. "For every subject that starts in first year, there shall be three teachers. One shall teach the first three years, another for years fourth and fifth, and a third for years sixth and seventh. The teachers themselves shall be rotated in this arrangement, with a few exceptions, and unless they don't want to.
"For example, we take Care of Magical Creatures. For this year, Professor Hagrid," the large man in question blushed at the title,"Shalltitle, "Shall be limited to the sixth and seventh years, while Professor Grubbly-Plank shall be teaching the first three years. Then next year, if both the teachers are in agreement, Professor Hagrid shall take over the third, fourth and fifth years, while Professor Grubbly-Plank shall teach the last two years."
Harry placed his hands on the table and interlaced his fingers as he continued. "This system shall allow the students to have maximum contact with all of their teachers. In order to preserve uniformity, teachers shall be required to submit a syllabus for every batch that they shall decide by common agreement, and it will be followed, regardless of who the teacher is."
There was a moment's silence as he paused to deliver the final part of his speech. "An exception is in the Potions subject, where under no circumstances shall Professor Snape be allowed to come in contact with any years other than the sixth and seventh, who should be able to handle his personality if they are really worth teaching anything at all." Harry barely spared the fuming Potions master a glance.
"Salaries will, of course, remain the same even for the reduced responsibilities, even though increments may suffer. More details are available in dossiers that have been delivered to your offices, and you may peruse them at your convenience. Please ensure that your convenience happens to be before six o' clock today evening, when the new staff shall be arriving."
Standing up, Harry gave a short bow to the stunned staff members. "Thank you for your time."
With that, hestrodehe strode out of the office. There were other changes that he'd not mentioned, but they were all covered in the dossiers.
His next destination was the chamber of secrets. His thoughts about Voldemort had reminded him of something. The first batch of crystals was ready, and Harry had something he needed to do soon. Apart from that, the outfitting of several of his planned devices was underway, but something of the magnitude of what he was about to do superseded everything.
One Hour Later
Harry stood back, as the last of the crystals was set in place, by the levitation spells Selene controlled.
"Alright, Selene. Hit it." He said.
Immediately, the air filled with a low hum, as powerful magic was woven. Harry was standing at the centre of an Eight Pointed star, painted with a mixture of Phoenix Ash, Dementor Essence, and his own blood. In four of the triangles, were four black glass orbs, labelled simply from one to four.
In the other four triangles, there were four objects:ALocketobjects: Locket, A cup, a diadem and a ring.
Surrounding the whole setup, in strategic positions, were a number of Magical crystals that were the source of the hum, as power poured into them from the Hogwarts ley lines.
They were meant to provide power for the ritual. Harry could've done it himself, but he wanted to minimize his personal connection.
As the crystals powered up, Harry started a chant, following it with some specific occult gestures.
A knowledgeable listener may have detected hints of Sanskrit, Aztec, and Old Norse in it, among many others. It was punctuated in places by different words, words of power that consisted of syllables never meant to be spoken from human lips. They were harsh, strange sounds, which hung in the air far too long to be natural.
As Harry's chant progressed, the magic of the room steadily gained a deathly tint. Shadows crept from unseen corners; all sounds other than his voice ceased, as if the world itself was holding its breath. But he went on.
On his hand, the ring of Lordship had abandoned all other forms it normally wore, and glowed with the full splendour of the House of Peverell.
As his chant reached yet another crescendo, Harry closed his eyes for a split second. Then he opened three eyes. Two were biological, of course, but the third was the power that many called mage sight, others referred to as aura viewing, and so on.
It allowed him to watch all seven planes of magic at the same time, whereas his normal eyes could only see one.
Looking at the Horcruxes, he saw the disgusting pieces of soul, and more importantly, he saw the thin bonds of magic, the spells upon spells that made the objects all but invulnerable.
He knew that he could be done with them right now, if he wanted to.
All it would take was one spell. 'Arcesso Fiendfyre,' he thought. 'And it's all over.'
But the shards had more uses still.
And so, as his chant gained a decidedly snakelike element, he worked magic on the artefacts, unravelling the magic on it thread by thread, slowly separating Voldemort's abominations from the spells of true power that they had crept into.
It took several minutes, but results showed eventually.
As one, four diseased orbs exited from the priceless artefacts, leaving the original powers of the objects behind as their links snapped.
But they didn't go unguided.
As soon as the last of the links between the objects and the soul fragments disappeared, runes flared to life. They surrounded the soul shards in every direction: FromaboveFrom above, front, back, left, right, and most importantly, below.
As the shards floated, four lines of beautifully painted runes became visible, crossing over the lines of the starstraightstar straight to the black glass orbs in the opposite triangles.
Then, as the last magic of binding and guidance locked into place, new tethers formed, between the orbs of glass and those of ectoplasm.
Within moments, the soul fragments were drawn, like fish along a line, straight into the glass orbs.
Then, the binding runes floating in the air shrank, before coming deeper and imprinting themselves onto the orbs.
Soon, it was over, and Harry gave a sigh of relief. All had gone as it should have.
Really, this showed the power of good planning.
With a flick of his hand, the orbs were banished to specially warded boxes in specially warded rooms.
All done, he vanished the star and banished the crystals to storage. Walking over, he picked up and collected the former Horcruxes, although not before performing seven separate scans to check for the success of the ritual.
Three of them, he banished to his Artefacts lab. The fourth, however, he put on.
Then, he channelled his power to it, and watched as the black stone became darker, if such a thing were . With measured twitches of his wrist, he chose a name.
And soon, standing before him, hazy, as if it were an overexposed Muggle photo, was a figure he'd only seen before in photos and memories.
"Hi, Harry." the figure said in avoicea voice just as lovely as he'd heard cooing over him.
"Hello, mother,"
They talked for a while, and for the first time in his life, Harry could truly regard himself as having gotten some closure for his parents' deaths. He had to be careful, though. They could only talk about things he already knew, as otherwise there was a cost that would have to be paid.
Harry thought back to the first time he had found out about the costs.
Harry had been studying about Necromancy, and was currently busy reading an entry into the Peverell Grimoire, written by Kharaidon Peverell himself.
This was how it went:
The simple matter of utilizing the powers of the void; like the necromantic curses, the Inferius, and the Zombie, are simple: All they require is the energy that has to be spent into any other spell. It is in fact for this reason, that they are used with wands, and therefore regarded, at least partially, a tame sort of magic.
True Necromancy, however, the branch that delves truly into the Untamed Arts, which utilizes the powers at the heart of the Void, that crosses over into the realm of the dead, is a different matter, however.
It is said that death is fair, death is true, and death is just. These words are all true.
To do anything that counts as true necromancy, a price must be paid.
To understand this, one must look at a simple example. That is, summoning a shade of a dead person, and the having it do something; whether by binding it to a body, or indeed any other means. In such a case, a minimum of three sacrifices are necessary.
To bring a soul back from within the Void, another soul must go in.
Then, to give the shade a corporeal form, another corporeal form must be lost. That is to say, another soul must be pushed into the Void that hungers for them.
Finally, to make anything else pass through the void, whether the shade's magical powers, or his/her knowledge, yet another sacrifice must be made. This extends to every single piece of knowledge, and every one of the abilities.
This is the reason why I truly regard my sons as the best Necromancers to have ever lived.
Over the years our world has existed, many have held considerable powers over the void.
They are the wizards who ascended to become Gods of Death in the various Pantheons of Yore. In Shinto, there is the Shinigami. Among the Hindus, there is Yamraj. Among the Greeks, there are Thanatos and Hades. The Egyptians had Osiris.
My sons have collected the symbols of power from each of these Death gods. Antioch speaks of turning the Spear of the Shinigami into an Unbeatable Wand. Cadmus, the love-struck rascal, speaks of uniting the twelve Aztec skulls into a single stone. And my dear Ignotus, sweet, innocent Ignotus, he speaks of taking Hel's cloak and make it invisible.
From what I can understand, they do not intend to neglect the other pantheons, and neither do they intend for these to be the only powers their artefacts possess, but the details escape my mind. What I do understand is how this relates to the three costs.
It is simple. Whoever holds Cadmus's stone is exempt from the cost of the soul exiting the void. Similarly the holder of Ignotus's Cloak skips the cost of materialization; and for the master of Antioch's wand, the cost for actions is waived.
Not only this, but they have also done what no one else has done before. By uniting the powers of every individual to have ever held powers over the void, they intend to make it so that the owner of all three of their artefacts, their so called Hallows, shall have absolute and complete control over death, in all of its shapes and forms. The individual, in essence, will be able to command the entry and exit of whichever soul he or she chooses into the void with total impunity. I know for a fact that death is a sentient force, and this shall give complete mastery over it to one person.
Indeed, it is my belief that the objects so crafted shall surpass everything currently known to wizardkind. Technically speaking, they can only be considered Mystic codes .But in terms of power, should everything go as they want it to, these three may surpass even the strongest of Noble Phantasms.
As a necromancer and a Peverell, I can only say that this would be the end of all problems in Necromancy. Indeed, the mastery over death is every necromancer's final destination.
As things were, Harry had two of the three, and therefore he evaded the costs for the passing of a soul into this world, and the cost for the corporeal form of his mother.
But if any of her knowledge or magic were to pass the void, he would have to pay one soul for every question she answered, or every spell she performed.
In light of that, it was perhaps understandable that he was hesitant. Not that it would be too much of a trouble to pop into a slum and grab a few dozen Muggles if he wanted any anecdotes, but it was unnecessary.
Their chat lasted for well over an hour, but eventually it was time to go. Harry allowed her to return, and himself decided to ponder the details of just what he was going to be doing now.
His thoughts eventually turned to the powerful artefacts that he suddenly found himself to be the owner of.
They were powerful mystic codes, powerful enough that they could arguably be considered equal to at least the lower level Noble Phantasms.
His eyes shone, as he remembered his studies. Enchanted artefacts were a major part of the magical world, and they had no end of usefulness even in battle.
The enchanted articles could be of all sorts. But the truly exceptional among them were regarded as Mystic Codes, the crystallized examples of a person's magic that could accomplish true wonders.
After that, of course, the power went on increasing in a multitude of ways, but the main methods were two. One was an example of Abstractual Magic, showing how things could be affected by the beliefs about them held by people. What happened was that legends spread about an artefact, starting from rumour, and spreading by word of mouth till they reached truly unbelievable proportions.
Now, belief was a very powerful force. So, all that energy that was being produced, eventually reached a certain point, and then acted. Slowly but certainly, the object itself changed, gaining the powers that it was believed to have. Original powers could be magnified, and others lost, till the object became the crystallized example of a concept.
That was what a Noble Phantasm was.
The second method was far simpler. The powers of the original code could be enhanced, as more spells were addedandadded and changes made, till its raw power itself rose to unprecedented heights.
That too, was a Noble Phantasm.
Things like this were another example of how the luck that had kept him alive for three years showed even greater results when tampered with skill.
Most people spent their lives trying to lay hands on one Noble Phantasm. He had three literally dropped in his lap. The cloak, the stone, and finally the mirror that lay stored safely in the Vaults below Hogwarts.
And now he could get so many more. The Diadem, the Locket, and the Cup all held powers of their own, just waiting to be enhanced to unbelievable levels by someone who knew what they were doing.
And who better than him, when he had the original manuscripts of Sauron himself?
Those manuscripts that contained the details of forging and enchanting the ancient Dark Lord learned fromlearned from the Valar that he'd so successfully used to destroy no less than three races?
If the knowledge that had passed into Peverell hands from the last of the Atlantean High Mages could be used properly from the materials he had; and especially in addition to the other sources of his knowledge, he could do…
Well he could do pretty much anything.
Wouldn't that add a whole other level to his plans?
And of course, the greatest prize of them all was sitting in Dumbledore's office. That was another Noble Phantasm, one that had a whole other history.
The status of the Goblins as the sole masters of Metal magic was, after all, a recent thing. Even if the rest of the world had forgotten about them, most of the old families still possessed enough knowledge to put even the best Goblin scholars to shame.
As things were, he had confirmed that enchanting on that level was too much for automatons, even under Selene's guidance. So whatever was to be done, he would have to do himself. He intended to forge weapons and rings for his vassals once they had some experience, but to do it for himself, now…?
No. He didn't have the time, and he lacked the full extent of resources.
There would be a time to go on an enchanting spree, but it wasn't right now.
Harry was brought out his reverie by the sound of Selene.
"Harry, you have a call from Minister Fudge."
"Who for?" he asked.
"Damien Peverell."
"Connect it in five seconds." Harry said, before focusing, as he channelled some magic to his throat. He could soon feel the familiar itch, as his vocal chords morphed into those of his Damien form.
"Hello, Minister, what can I do for you?" He asked.
"We don't have time for pleasantries, Damien!" the voice of the Minister of Magic snapped back.". "We're in trouble!"
Harry frowned. What could be getting the moron in such frenzy?
"What happened, Cornelius? Calm down and tell me everything."
"The Wizengamot, Damien!" Cornelius said with agitation.". "That bastard, Morrigan, he called an emergency meeting, asking for the decision for your claim to Azkaban be reverted. He's citing some laws that retaining the prison is the Ministry's right, and that I'm corrupted. You said that there was nothing that could go wrong, that it was all above board! Did you lie to me, Damien?"
At the accusing tone, Harry's voice chilled. "Mind your tone, Cornelius. And everything is above board. Tell me, when is the meeting?"
"In two hours. Hurry, Damien, or it'll hurt all of us."
"Don't you worry, Cornelius," Harry's calm voice did wonders in soothing the Minister down.". "Go and rustle up every Warlock and Lord you can. I'll see you in the hall."
"Okay, Damien. But please deal with it."
Disconnecting, Harry allowed a small smile to form on his lips. So it seemed that someone had, at last, realized the goldmine that would be falling into his hands once Azkaban was his.
Well, he had over a dozen separate contingencies prepared for such a situation, he wasn't worried. But it did mean he needed to act, and immediately.
"Selene. Check the Althric Communications' records. Does Marcus Loxley possess a magiphone?" he asked.
"Yes, Harry. He does."
"Good. CallhimCall him."
In a few moments, Harry could hear the rings from the phone of the man who controlled nearly a dozen Warlocks'sWarlocks' votes.
As soon as it connected, Harry asked "Sir Marcus?"
"Speaking, who's this?" the answer came.
"My name is not important. What matters is whether or not you value your freedom and your power. So, do you, Sir Marcus?"
"What kind of sick joke is this? I don't have to answer any questions you ask." The man said.
Harry could sense that he was about to disconnect, so he spoke quickly.
"Don't you dare disconnect, Loxley. Trust me, you do that, and the next time you make a call it'll be from Azkaban"
At this, the man's voice seemed to waver.
"What do you mean, eh?"
"Why, I refer to the nice Erumpent horn smuggling business that you're running on the side, of course. The ministry never did get a Knut of tax, did they? And you know just how nasty they are about that sort of thing."
The man laughed. "I don't know what kind of Muggle trash spawned you, but you should know that I have Parliamentary immunity. The best they can do is slap me with a fine, and that's hardly even a slap on the wrist for a man like me."
Harry smiled. "But then, smuggling's hardly all you've been doing, is it? The girls, what was that one's name, the one at Ulric Academy?" Harry paused for effect.
"Jennifer, wasn't it? Jennifer Cromstone. And she's just one of many. You are a naughty man, aren't you, Sir Marcus?"
"So, I have a couple mistresses." The tone on the other end was dismissive,"Sodismissive, "So what? You must be a Mudblood, if you think it matters. This is not the Muggle world, idiot. Let me tell you something."
Harry could practically hear the sneer on the other end."That silly little thing they have going, Monogamy or whatnot, it's got no place in our world. So I can shag however many girls I like, and no one will care at the Ministry or the Wizengamot."
"Oh, you're quite correct. No one at the Ministry or the Wizengamot will care." Harry's calm, unruffled tone put the man off.
"On the other hand, Lady Loxley is another matter altogether, isn't she?"
And that was it. The battle was won. This was the man's biggest weakness, the one which, by the simple virtue of knowing it along with his other knowledge, ensured Harry's victory.
"You know Lady Loxley, the nice Half-blood who inherited such a fortune from her parents, both the pureblood father and the Muggle mum? Your wife, isn't she? The woman who pays for all your campaigns, all the bribes that you pay, all your little soirees?" Harry's low chuckle was chilling.
"She inherited a nice, Muggle set of values from her parents, didn't she? Where the husband stays faithful to the wife and all?
"What'll she do, when she's told of your extracurricular activities, I wonder?
"Ooh, I know. She'll stop."
Harry's voice suddenly turned harsh as he continued to press his advantage."She'll stop paying! For the bribes, for the parties, she'll stop paying for everything!
"I guess that you'll lose your seat then, won't you? And then there's no more parliamentary immunity, is there?"
"Stop it, damn it!Whatit! What do you want?"
It was a lesson in human psychology, to see a man's voice go from cocky and self-assured, to broken and defeated in such a short time.
"I represent a group of people," Harry said calmly,"Whocalmly, "Who are very interested in seeing that the Death Eaters at Azkaban get their just desserts. Don't bother trying to uncover us, you won't manage it.
"Just understand, that having faced disappointment for so long from the Ministry, we've chosen Damien Peverell for this job. So, you will go to the meeting that's been called today, and you'll vote along with your faction to wherever he votes.
"Trust me. One divergence from the instructions I have given you right now and you'll be history in politics faster than you can say 'Vote'.
"Good day, Sir Marcus."
Disconnected, Harry let out a small sigh. One pawn fell into place.
Immediately, he Apparated to his study, looking over at what he called his 'British Government' wall. It was a masterpiece, even if he said so himself.
The actual display was an Illusion, made as a test of Harry's skills in the area that wasonewas one of the main branches of Mind . But the crux lay in the huge nexus of Divination magic that constantly fed it information.
They tied into everything:fromeverything: from the British National wards, to some extent, to the feedback from the spells Harry cast on people and the results of the potions that were ingested by the people, everything.
It was a representation of every shred of control Harry possessed over Britain's magical society. He had never been one to feed himself delusions of power, and so he'd crafted this to represent the exact position he held.
It was roughly a tree shape. At the head, the very top, was Harry himself. Below him several branches, with two being the most prominent. One was the Ouroboros Alliance, and the other was Althric Inc.
To each of the branches, certain names were connected. Several key members of the ministry, the entire Wizengamot roster, Lords, Powerful Businessmen, so on.
All of them were in particular colours, which denoted their status in respect to him. His vassals were Black, showing total control, while the ones who owed him a debt were a deep purple. The members of the order of Ouroboros were a rich blue, steadily getting darker, as the enchantments he had placed upon them worked their way through their minds slowly and steadily. A similar status was present in case of the Longbottoms, and several other houses that had heirs at Hogwarts, his influence over them strengthening as his exposure to them increased.
Till today morning, the name of Julius Morrigan, along with the whole Neutral block that he was leader of, had been white, denoting that there was no connection between him and Harry. But right now it was a bloody crimson, meaning enmity.
Similarly, the name of Loxley too had been white. But it was now a very dark red. It meant that he had control over the man all right, but the man hated Harry anyway.
Still, neither the Morrigans not Loxley were what held his attention right now. Harry went to work, as he tapped specific names, checking and refreshing in his mind everything he had on them, as he made calls, and bullied and cajoled votes one by one.
He didn't use up everything he had (He wasn't stupid), but nonetheless, by the time he got up to dress for the Wizengamot, the amount of dark colours on the wall was significantly greater than it had been previously.
He almost groaned, remembering all of a sudden that he was going to have to attend this meeting thrice, even though his real form didn't need to make an appearance.
As if that had been a trigger, he was suddenly aware that he wasn't alone.
Looking around, he saw just what he'd been expecting.
Two more versions of himself;morphinghimself; morphing into Aries Black and Erebus Sharr, both of whom weretuckingwere tucking back their time turners.
"Yeah. It's going to be just as bad as you think. Sorry, but can't tell you more than that;Paradoxesthat; Paradoxes and all." The Harry who was now Erebus Sharr said.
Harry didn't bother to answer. He knew that he didn't need any, after all.
Morphing intoDamieninto Damien Peverell, the Harry Potter living in the present picked up one of the spare wands in his desk, and then Apparated out, followed by the ones he was going to call Aries and Erebus for sanity's sake.
Appearing into the Ministry atrium, they took a moment to use a switching spell, substituting their robes for the ugly purple monstrosities that the Wizengamot members wore, with the appropriate crests for the families they were both Lords of and the ones they would be acting as Proxies for.
They all ignored the gasps that sounded, as people caught sight of their crests. Striding through, no one was surprised when the crowds parted before them like the red sea before Moses.
At the wand checking desk, he asked them.
"I suppose I did pick up different wands from the reserves, yes?"
"Yeah, we did." They replied in unison.
Soon enough, they were in the Wizengamot . Catching sight of their allies, Harry subtly gestured at his future selves to sit around them, so as to present a united front. Soon, the meeting was on.
Dumbledore, in robes just as strange as ever, stood up from the Chief Warlock's seat to announce the emergency meeting open.
As the convener, the first with the right to the floor was Morrigan.
"My dear Lords, Ladies and Warlocks of the Wizengamot," The old man said in his powerful voice."I know that you are greatly inconvenienced due to the suddenness of this meeting. Believe me when I said that I felt I had no choice. I was recently made aware of something that could have disastrous consequences on our world, and therefore was forced to convene this meeting to prevent such a happening.
"What I speak of is not something hidden from us all, and neither is it something as monstrous asaas a new Dark Lord. But, it is all the more dangerous for it.
"I speak, my dear friends, of the monumentally asinine decision recently taken by this Ministry of Magic, to wrest control over one of the most important parts of our nation's ministry from duly appointed officers, and award it to an old, outdated Dark family, just because of blood."
The old man's voice gained a fanatic tone to it as he continued. "To me, Ladies and Gentlewizards, this smacks of the same kind of Blood Supremacy that the Dark Lord was fond of. It strips people of their jobs, and awards more power to a family that already possesses too much. It is this sort of thing which allows the rise of Dark Lords, and pushes down the downtrodden masses even further."
The impassioned man looked around himself imperiously. "So what if some past minister promised the lands to a family. It doesn't mean that we should suffer for the stupidities of the past generation!
"Therefore I propose a motion to scrap this whole plan, and indeed, alter the constitution so that nothing like this can happen again."
His diatribe finished, the man returned to his seat. Harry couldn't believe his ears.
What happened to the terribly cunning and dangerous Julius Morrigan? What had happened to the man whohadwho had defied all requirements of power, the person thathadthat had risen to the uppermost echelon of power simply on his wits, possessing a magical core that was far below average?
The whole speech, while not too bad, simply lacked the oomph that the aristocrathadaristocrat had possessed in the past. It seemed that a decade of uninterrupted peace, coupled with age, had dulled his edge beyond repair.
Or, it could be an act. A move to draw him in, laying a trap.
Only time would tell.
HarryconsideredHarry considered his options. It wasn't a matter of losing the prison. If he had any intelligence at all left, Morrigan would have known that the day the Wizengamot reduced an Eldritch Family's powers would be the day Voldemort danced in Diagon wearing a tutu.
No, he was just playing something he had found available, an angle he could work. He was trying to get Harry nervous, prone to rashness. He was after something else. Some concessions, most likely, that he was trying to bluff his way into securing from the House of Peverell.
Well, fuck that.
"The Duke of Azkaban wishes to speak." The master of ceremonies said, as Harry raised his hand.
Dumbledore's voice rang out. "The floor recognizes His Grace, The Duke of Azkaban."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, like my friend the Marquis of Shrewsbury, I must, first of all, apologize for the inconvenience. It is rather strange for me, given that I was one of the inconvenienced, but still, politeness dictates. Anyway, coming to the point, I would like to respond to the accusations made by his lordship."
Turning to Morrigan, he said "Do you regard yourself as a pureblood, sir?"
"What sort of question is that?" the man blustered, clearly offended.
"Oh, humour me, please. You are a pureblood Lord, yes?"
"Of course I am. What about it?"
"Well, so you accept that you are bound by the same code of honour, the same laws, which bind the whole of Arthur's court? You must, after all, since your very presence in these hallowed halls is owed to them."
"Yes, I do. Is there going to be a point to this at all?"
"Patience, Your Lordship, patience. I believe you have read the constitution we all adhere to. After all, I have read several works from you on the matter."
Pausing for breath, Harry then delivered his coup de grâcegrace. "So, Lord Shrewsbury, would you mind reciting the Promises of Unifications to me?"
At this, the man paled, finally understanding what Harry had been leading him into.
Harry, even as he took in every detail of the man's nervousness, confirmed his original thoughts. If there had been any trap, this was the only possible moment it could be sprung. The man's nervousness only proved that he had long since gone to waste.
He pondered once again the folly of arrogance. It took down more giants than spells ever did, after all. The man had been so sure, so self-assured in his unparalleled knowledge of magical law, that he'd been absolutely certain of his words being accepted at face value.
To his credit he'd realized that the members would ignore his words anyway, but there had, in his mind, been no chance at all that that they wouldn't believe them.
But he was very nicely trapped now, with no way out. If he refused to comply to Harry's question, it would be a cause Harry could use to prove him ignorant, casting doubt on his very knowledge of the matter.
It was such a wonderful thing, power and wealth. With as much power as Damien Peverell held, he could make a very good case of the man never having read the constitution at all, calling the extensive discourses he had written into . It would never stick legally, but the masses would be happy to lap it up, especially with the vocal support of Harry Potter.
It would mean that the sales of the man's books would drop faster than a hippogriff dead mid-flight.
Not for the first time, Harry thanked magic for his foresight in wresting control over the Prophet. 'There really is no such thing as a public opinion. There's only the published opinion .And whoever controls it, controls the people'. He thought.
Still, never let it be said that Ravenclaw's descendants lacked spirit.
"The promises are several, and rather long. Would you mind specifying any one of them you want me to recite to you, Your Grace?"
"Certainly. The fifth promise, and the Ninth one, please? In that order, if you will."
"Oh-okay. Ahem. The fifth promise states that 'Under no circumstances whatsoever shall any organ of the government be enabled to seize from any Great family any lands, vassals, or magic that they deem Ancestral.'
And the Ninth promise states that 'Were it to be so, that lands, or magic that be rightful Ancestral possession of any Great family be used by the Ministry or any other form of government that arise, the appropriate positions to hold control over them, with all due remunerations and powers, are the due right of the family in question.'"
"Thank you, Lord Shrewsbury. Now, I believe you called the claim of the house of Peverell to Azkaban 'inherently illegal'. I wonder if you do me a favour and prove that statement, in light of these promises, which, I may remind you, are older than any other law in the constitution."
"Well, that's because it isn't the rightful claim of the Peverells that I was speaking of, when I said that it was illegal."
"No, then what?"
"The thing in this which is illegal is the fact that this whole plan is a conspiracy to take the rightful claims of many other families. That it is a consolidation of power, that it is nothing less than line theft!"
Oh. Oh. Perhaps he'd been premature in considering the man dulled, after all.
Even as pandemonium arose in the hall, a cold, hard fury crystallized in Harry's mind. It wasn't the claim in itself. He had, after all, come expecting something similar. But his thoughts had revolved around the fact that he would hold control over hundreds, maybe thousands of near healthy magical bodies with strong cores. There was a huge amount that a Necromancer could do with them, after all (In fact, this was the reason why the castle had ever been offered as a prison in the first place).
The fact that someone knew such details of this aspect of his plans, however, smacked of betrayal.
However, the situationwasn'tsituation wasn't completely unsalvageable.Harryunsalvageable. Harry made contingencies for every possible situation, after all, whenever he took any significant actions. He had made several when he revealed his goals for what he would do with the wealth and power of the inmates to the Alliance, and one of them would be coming active right about now.
Harry turned his attention to Dumbledore, when the man spoke "I do not like to make accusations, but is this true, Your Grace?"
"Oh, what's the point of asking him? He'll just deny, of course." The now triumphant voice of Lord Shrewsbury rang out over the noise."Let me tell you. Currently there are no less than eleven Lords imprisoned in Azkaban. Six are vassals of others, and therefore out of his power, while the Houses of Rookwood, Gibson, Carrow, Travers and Rowle are all independent, albeit minor. But their vaults are anything but, aren't they? They're among the richest and most knowledgeable houses in Britain. That's what he wants, I know it. He's a-"
That was the point at which Harry cut him off.
The air of the hall chilled, and the shadows seemed to whisper, when the voice of Damien Peverell rang out. "Enough."
By this point, several of the weaker Lords and Warlocks were nearly hyperventilating, as the Wizengamot was reminded just why it was that every Peverell lord had the entitlement of 'Dreadlord' before their name.
It was a while before Dumbledore said. "I ask again, your Grace. Is there any shred of truth in these words?"
Harry waited for a few more minutes, before answering "I had hoped not to unnecessarily burden the Wizengamot with this, but yes."
This time there was no noise, the members far too terrified.
"Now, before anyone raises their voices again, I would like to clarify. I fully planned to claim Lordship over the Houses that have Lords in Azkaban, because it is my duty as an honest ally."
"How so, Your Grace?"
"Before answering that, I would like to ask a question of my fellow members."
"Cer-certainly, Dreadlord." Someone from the crowd said.
A few seconds after that, Harry withdrew his aura. A collective sigh of relief seemed to pass through the members.
"Now, I would like to ask the Wizengamot, do we consider ourselves Honourable people?"
"Ye-yes of course, Your Grace." It was Harry's vassal thorough the Slytherins, Lord Montague, who answered. Of course, he was also his ally through the Peverells, having been the Chief Guest for the Inauguration of the PBS.
"So, we consider that we are bound by our word, that we must accept the consequences of our actions? That any pledge we make has to be honoured?"
"Of course," Montague said again, this time with more confidence.
"Good. Now, I ask you, keeping this in mind, to think back fifteen years ago, when the Dark Lord Voldemort was at full power.
"Now we agree that it has been proven without doubt that all of these Lords, who Lord Shrewsbury was kind enough to mention, they had all been Death Eaters, yes?"
"Yes." Augusta Longbottom said this time, in a tone that made her growing impatience visible.
"Hmm… one does wonder why Lord Shrewsbury was so worried about them. Anyway, given that all of these lords had pledged their allegiance to the self-styled Lord, and especially taking into account his claim as Heir of Slytherin, I ask you this:
"Should they, or should they not, duly accept the consequences as they are Honour bound to? The same consequences, that come when a houses pledges allegiance to another, which then loses in a battle between Nobles?"
"Of course they should." This time, the opinion was near unanimous. The simpler warlocks and the more innocent lords lapped up the whole 'honour' spiel greedily, while those who knew better also knew that this was what one supported in public.
Suddenly, Harry was reminded of a wholly other matter. It was important, but how to put it? Unless…
'Selene. Are you currently connected to my future selves?'
'Yes, Harry. Due to the spells you cast, the original connection is absent, but they picked up the phones that were made for this purpose.'
'Then tell them this…'Harry ordered the AI to inform Erebus of his plans.
He saw himself lean, whispering the words in the ears of Lord Dalglish, sitting next to him.
Soon enough, Dalglish raised his hand, making a specific symbol for the benefit of the master of ceremonies.
"Lord Dalglish on a point of order," The man said.
"Yes, Baron Dalglish?"Dumbledore asked.
"Chief Warlock, the point I ask is this. Lord Shrewsbury said that there were eleven lords in Azkaban. From what I believe, he left one out, as my studies show there to be twelve."
"Oh, I can clarify that," Said the voice of Aries Black.
"Yes, Baron Black?"
"I stripped the Lestranges of all rights and privileges of being Lords, when I discovered their reprehensible actions."
That was all that was said, but Harry knew that subverting the House of Longbottom to his cause just became a whole lot easier.
"Continuing, as we are all agreed, I therefore ask this Wizengamot to sanction the House of Potter to claim as their Vassals the houses of Rookwood, Gibson, Carrow, Rowle and Travers, as is due to them by the Right of Conquest."
He could sense the beginnings of another bout of cacophony starting. Seeing as he really, really didn't want one, Harry decided on a bit of minor time manipulation.
'No matter what happens, I will remember to speak at this point' He promised to himself. As he felt the resolution sink into his mind, he waited for results.
Sure enough…
"The house of Sharr seconds." the man people recognized as Erebus Sharr said.
Dumbledore's voice then rang out through the silent hall. "A motion has been proposed and seconded. Those who say aye?"
One by one, Harry saw the hands rise, with the wands all lit at the tip. He wasn't too worried, to be honest.
Forty-eight votes belonged to him by virtue of his families alone, (though the members didn't know this, of course).
Then there were roughly twenty vassal lords, and another forty or so votes he controlled, either by virtue of debts or blackmail. With that many votes guaranteed, if he couldn't even hold on to the loyalties that he'd gained through the Ouroboros Alliance, or influence new ones, he had no business being here.
No, the Wizengamot may be satisfied with one hundred and fifty one, but he personally couldn't consider himself worthy of holding any political ambitions at all till he had over two hundred, at the very least.
Thankfully, the number of miniature sources of light kept on rising. He saw Malfoy, Yaxley and Nott raise their hands; that was eighteen by itself. Then, Augusta, and …wonder of wonders! Amelia Bones cast her vote.
Oh yes, it was going well. Eventually, last stragglers raised their wands, casting the spell. (The last was important, as no votes counted otherwise. A squib being a member was punishable by the kiss.)
Yes! Well over two hundred. Nearing a quarter of a thousand, actually.
"Those who say nay?" Dumbledore asked, although it was little more than a formality.
There it was, the whole of Morrigan's faction, voting along with their leader. Harry wondered how many would come running to him before the week was out. If there was anything this whole farce had proved it was that Julius Morrigan was now history. Still, there would have to be a couple more defeats before the man was fully defeated.
Harry looked forward to them.
"And how many abstain?"
These ones Harry watched carefully. They were the kind of people who would gladly watch their country burn, as long as they were away from the heat.
Sure enough, there they were: Scytheria 'Black widow' Zabini, Cassius Greengrass 'the fence sitter', the man who would probably require surgery to develop some hint of a spine, and other luminaries in the area.
"Very well," the Chief Warlock intoned solemnly."The ayes have it. The ayes have it. The House of Potter now has full sanction from the Wizengamot to bind the Houses of the imprisoned Death Eaters to vassalage, were he to be so inclined. And with that, I declare this emergency session closed."
Harry was among the first out of the door. He had to repeat the whole thing twice again, after all.
Two time turns later
Harry let his face finally form a smile as he Apparated into the Chamber for the last time.
Strictly speaking, the whole thing had been a massive waste of time, confirming a right he already held. But it had set the stage for the political death of a major player currently in power that opposed him, so that counted as a win.
Still, it didn't mean that there wouldn't be consequences.
He expected that the Morrigan faction's efforts to exonerate the Death Eaters would be beginning soon; preparations would have to be made. In addition to that, there was the matter of the traitor.
Oh yes, Harry's busy days had already started.
Aaand, that's done.
It was difficult to write as hell, especially as my classes have started back up now, but it's done now, and here you are.
As always, review/PM me for anything you want to ask/tell/suggest/crib about/rave about.
Signing off
blackshadow111