Disc.- So guess what? I STILL DON'T OWN IT! And after this chapter, I'll stop putting this in and just be like, 'Look in the first two chapters, 'cause I'm sick of taking the measly time to write it', which will take just as much time as writing the actual disclaimer. :D

Ummm...- So...Hi there? Anyways, we're moving on now. BY THE WAY! THERE WILL BE NO DUMBLEDORE OR WEASLEY BASHING! So yeah. But there will always be slight Cornelius bashing if I bring him up.

I've skipped until the TriWizard Tournament was brought up (two years from when we left off), and it'll be at a meeting of the Ministers of England, France and Russia, and then with the Grecian Minister storming in with Hermia. Another thing, in the Harry Potter wiki, there's conflicting info on where Durmstrang is. So if I bring it up, it'll be somewhere in Russia, kk?

XXXXXXXXXX

"-will be at Hogwarts, of course,", Cornelius blathered on, his aide and Delores behind him, Albus frowning just slightly at him. Going in chronological order, it should have been Beauxbaton's turn with it and by the way Olympe's eyes narrowed, she knew it just as well. Just as he was about to speak up, the floo activated into the overly-large and ornate meeting room. Astrasteia Anaxagoras stepped through, her cool lavender gaze so different from the French, Russian and English ministers, the two foreign men sneering at Cornelius' audacity as Barty Crouch (senior, that is) shook his head. Another woman, one Albus recognized only by the woman who began a girl's school- which, at the time, sparked such great controversy- from its all woman staff to the early age students were gathered, and then even still onto the acceptance of all witches. While Durmstang accepted only Purebloods (there was shortage of them, despite what some may have thought- they were simply spread out, hidden in places that muggles would never find on the earth), and Beauxbaton only allowed Halfbloods and Purebloods. Most schools were somehow restrictive- there were schools purely for muggleborns, for halfbloods and most frequently- for Purebloods. Even creatures had a separate schooling system.

Cornelius sputtered as he stood, flustered and the two other Ministers rose as well.

"Good evening.", Anaxagoras greeted, voice only hinting a bit at her heritage. "My companion and I are here on grounds for the right to participate in your...Tournament."

XXXXXXXXXX

Calanthia narrowed her potent gaze. This would, for the time, stall the Tournament meant to happen when in her fourth year in Hogwarts. Until they reached an agreement or stalemate somehow, and the tournament would be given new regulations and a new name to adapt to a fourth school coming in.

As it were, however, they were still arguing about accepting their school into the tournament fiercely. She ended the sight with the mirror, her own face soon staring back at her. She hummed, raking her fingers through her long locks. She'd cut it soon enough. Her hair, back in their...Old lives, it was something of pride. It was what helped her remember each and every pain she'd been through, every hard-won battle that had cost too much over the most ridiculous of things, a simple slight or word sparking immediate violence. But that was her life before, and it had no place in this one. Her ring was reminder enough. She stood from her spot in the large, high-backed chair, moving into her room. While most schools forbid their students from remaining over the summer holidays, hers did not. She hated Albus for that for some time, but she knew that Hogwarts wards needed to be adjusted each year, that the Headmaster toiled to try to make new protections against the dangers faced the previous year in an attempt to prevent them from happening again. Albus was a good man, even if he didn't always make the best decisions. It took him too long too realize that not everyone had good in them, that not everyone wanted or could be saved. By the time he started to treat the war as it really was- not a war, but the demolition of an entire government- his death was already imminent, closing in too quickly to make much of an effort himself.

She pulled herself from her thoughts languidly. Her past was always there- she'd never be rid of it. No matter what she did. Who she tried to mold herself into. And no matter what happened. She would always be Calanthia Lyra Potter- ex-wife of Oulixeus Bulstrode, mother to unborn Anastasia Bulstrode, torturer, interrogator, general and chief of armies, judge, jury and executor, winner of a war that left no victors.

And she'll never be anyone else, if only in her own head.

She was...Content now, with the way things were. It wouldn't take much to right things, to quash any potential dangers, to begin passing and slipping in new laws. Or even to take over the Ministry to replace it with something more efficient, less corrupt. But she would wait.

She was well-accustomed to waiting. She greeted those she passed in the halls, aware of every step each girl took, of each minute movement. She was soon sitting with 'Mia and 'Vieve (as they've become accustomed to being called), sipping at her tea as parchment and quills updated documents, prepared the letters for the upcoming firsties, took care of management and staff and made sure all expenses were seen to appropriately. They sorted through papers in silence as they spent the day going through them, combing through with careful eyes. And the night, for Calanthia, would be spent going through the library and ordering new books. The next week would filled with going out to add more books to their library. It was what she did every year after spending her time with Demelza and Megan. And during holidays, when she wasn't with one of the two, she simply traveled about. Making connections, stopping or aiding in certain events, amassing even more books and knowledge. It was on one such occasion she accidentally met Viktor Krum.

She blinked several times as flashes went off- her hair had been blown by the wind and suddenly she was recognized as the Girl-Who-Livedand she sent a foul glare, though her face remained otherwise impassive. She should've been wearing the warm furred hat (being in the colder regions, snow twisting everywhere), but she'd been certain the thick white would keep any from noticing her. Indeed, she probably would've gone unnoticed but it appeared that Krum was somewhere about and she was unwillingly ushered in one uniform direction, being bustled by Bulgarian and German reporters by all sides. She was a proper lady though, and didn't want to actually harm anyone more than necessary, or at all really- she'd had quite enough violence in her life. She was shoved (quite rudely) into a larger frame and felt steady hands right her gently and looked up with sharp green eyes. Dark, curious ones met her gaze. He was relatively the same as she remembered him from her old life at this time- duck-footed, hunch-shoulders and perpetual scowl on his lips. He still disliked the paparazzi as much as he ever did.

"Are you alright?", he asked politely in his stilted accent, eyes glancing where her scar peeked out as another gust tore through the crowd.

"I am well, thank you, scion Krum.", she offered somewhat curtly, sending a sharp look as a hand tried to push her closer to get a better photo of the two celebrities. Few times has she had to deal with reporters and when she did, it was usually quiet little-known publishers in only a paragraph or two about her going to an all girl's school and that she was quite happy there to be learning all she could of her heritage. It was all carefully filtered, otherwise her lawyers- very carefully hand picked goblins who got quite a bit for their services- would be having a bloodbath before the papers ever got out. Rita Skeeter learned early that she would be publishing little to nothing on her person, lest she spend the rest of her days in Azkaban.

"I apologize for this- unexpected intrusion.", he offered her and she bowed her head in acceptance.

"I should have known better than to have come out without proper concealment.", her breath came out in wispy white, though her heating charms took care of any cold.

One man pushed through, his questions much louder as he shouted them in Bulgarian at the two, "Were the two of you planning on meeting today?", which sparked a slew of similar questions, each getting more suggestive about their coincidental meeting. Her eyes narrowed.

"If, I may...", she called, a slight bit of compulsory magic weaving through her voice- she was still surprised sometimes by the strength and dexterity of it- as it quieted down a bit. "Scion Krum and I had no intentions on our unexpected rendezvous.", her eyes brushed past unseen faces, a few flashes still going on here and there. "Most certainly, reporters such as yourselves would recognize that any sort of connection we'd have had was one of acknowledgment of the other's notoriety.", she offered with a gracious wave of her arm, another subtle thread of compulsion egging them to agree and simply leave the matter be. And her for that matter- soon enough the goblins would be taking care of any mentions these papers might have of her. "On that note, Mr. Krum, I must excuse myself; I do hope you have a good evening.", she bowed, adding a quick twist of a curtsy before melting into the snow pushing and reappearing far away in front of the shop she'd been meaning to get into. While she felt a bit bad for abandoning the man like that, a certain spite was appeased. He had abandoned Hermione after she'd been blacklisted by Voldemort. Granted, he'd been tortured but it was no excuse to just discard one's wife because of a little pain.

She skirted around the thoughts. Her Occlumency training had begun her second year, but it took time to build it up to the point she had before- and always her mind had been chaotic in thoughts. It was why she always had such a hard time learning it (not to mention Snape's atrocious 'teaching' methods).

xXx

She hummed, reading through the letter quickly. Her most recent business ventures have proved fruitful, her vaults were to the brim, and the 'raise' seemed to have reached a one Arthur Weasley quite nicely. She would open another vault soon enough. Every year she had as many strings pulled as possible to open wizarding orphanages- for either abandoned, orphaned or abused magical youth. Though she needn't worry about the abused part regarding Purebloods- their heirs were precious to continue on the line, even if some lines did get overzealous in maintaining certain images. One of the larger problems she was having in England and Ireland was the use of blood-adoption; otherwise, many orphanages across Europe and Asia had been opened and were functioning quite well. She'd never understood why there hadn't been any. She'd learned, when she was much older, that there were only a few places that had them. Too many families threw out squibs and the like into them or killed them.

Which brought her to another problem in Britain; aside from reluctance to use a classified Dark potion (almost all blood dealing potions were banned except from Mediwitches and wizards), the Ministry vehemently disliked the idea of taking muggleborns from their families as babies- and replacing them with orphan muggles after using blood-adoption to match the family. There were plenty of families without heirs though, ones that hold chairs that agree to it. However, those who feel the families shouldn't be separated or those too proud to adopt and would rather face the possibility of either dying out or reducing to squibs than having to admit the 'shame' of being unable to bear any heirs or heiresses.

She would try again this year to make her laws pass. From behind the scenes, of course. Once she reached magical maturity, she planned on 'sponsoring' the laws once she received her seats from on the Wizengamot. Her laws might've already passed if Albus were still the Head Mugwump. But he never got took that position after defeating Grindelwald (without his muggle army and the Holocaust wreaking havoc to stir the magical community). While one person was only allowed to officially hold two chairs, the Lord or Lady was allowed to give their excess empty chairs to those of the family blood. Thanks to the inbreeding in England, relations were to almost anyone in the Pureblood circles.

She sighed, neatly signing the necessary parchment with her blood before neatly folding it and using the Potter seal on the envelope, a nifty little spell making the wax dry immediately before giving it to the snowy white owl. Yes, she had found and purchased her- though she'd given her a different name. Bellona cooed, nipping affectionately at her fingers. While she would never be exactly like her old Hedwig, she was still a welcome companion. She sent the bird off. She hummed, watching her swoop above the dorms, another charm protecting her from the water and to the surface. Very nifty, that.

Serpens, a very young (only hatched forty or so years ago) male Basilisk coiled up and around her chair. He was thick, diameter being a foot or so and length reaching 15 or so feet. She hadn't measure him in the last few weeks, so he might've grown a bit. His ridged head came up closer, the vivid red plume on his head tickling her nose as he nuzzled against her throat tenderly. When she'd transferred her soul into her younger body, she was quite happy to realize that Serpens still accepted her as his Mistress.

The Basilisk from Hogwarts was taken years ago and now contently protected the school- or rather, simply swam around it, indulging in playing in the water and eating as much as it well pleased. And also creating strange statues of large sea creatures nearby. The water in the Chamber of Secrets made more sense now- the large snake was happier (and much faster and agile) when submersed. Nevertheless, it didn't bother the students and they quite liked to marvel at his beauty. It was what drove her to grab a chicken egg and a toad to have one of her own. Though they'd been banned in many places, she had a permit and license from the Grecian Senate, as she used not only her Girl-Who-Lived status, but mostly because of her Parseltongue ability. She cooed, petting the durable cool scales. A fine set of iridescent but translucent lids kept the killing and petrifying effect contained from the vibrant yellow gaze. Though Serpens and Canicus ('Vieve's phoenix- the very faithful and very much earned phoenix) didn't get along, the younger serpent often going out to swim when she had meetings with her two loyal friends. These dangerous companions had other uses as well- they had a constant supply of both phoenix tears and basilisk venom (along with the shed skins of both Serpens and Slytherin's Basilisk- who insisted he didn't have a 'name'). Very useful for Potions and all it's classes.

Though speaking of familiars, she spotted Hermia's darling Augurey, the dark, waif-like bird crying out to foretell rain, swooping down to eat a few of the fairies that bred (one of their students had two fairies, not knowing one was a male, being as androgynous and delicate as they are- wild breeding began soon after that) in the largely accumulated gardens. Yes, the familiars allowed were many. Much better, she mused, than Hogwarts, where those who had something other than a toad, cat or owl hid their pets.

("You are distracted."), Serpens brought her from her muses. She smiled as he shifted, forked black tongue tickling her nose as he tilted his head; a trait he picked up from her.

("Am I now?"), she asked amusedly as he wrapped more firmly around her, arms pinned to her sides.

("Yes. I am sure of it."), he butted against her and she giggled, nuzzling back against him.

("Yes, well. There is much to be thought of, you know."), she offered him. ("I do need to get up, y'know. I have an appointment today with the head of Jinhai soon.")

("Whatever for?"), he purred, twisting his head upside down to blink at her. He was a very affectionate, if needy snake and she found no small amount of amusement from it.

("He happens to want to speak about marriage contracts between his son and I. Sadly, I'm obliged to meet and at least go on one supervised 'date' with the son.")

("You are...Obliged?")

("Hm. One of the business contracts from my ancestors and his has something in there about it. Either way, it's valid. My goblins made sure of it."), she sighed. ("While I am able to decline it, I need to at least meet with him."), she mumbled, disgruntled.

("Then this mate will have no chance?"), Serpens asked innocently. She frowned at him.

("Well...Not really, no. If I accept it, I'll be expected to settle in with his family and to be...A housewife."), her nose scrunched up in distaste.

xXx

Jinhai and his son Mingyu, as it turned out, meant not for a betrothal but for servitude- on his part. Daiyu insisted that this would bring their family more honor and that his other sons could easily take the Jinhai name. He should be the one to go to her and expressly encouraged her to accept his oldest son as a servant/slave. He then continued that the contract would bind Mingyu to her for life. While she certainly didn't want to house the young man, let alone use him as a slave, it would be incredibly foolish of her to simply and carelessly reject it. It would offend the man deeply and he might sever her from their business, ending a very long and prosperous contract. So she signed it gracefully.

They went out, overseen by one of Daiyu's brothers. Mingyu, she was quite startled to see, had the loveliest green eyes. Almost as bright as her own, and rich in hue. He'd kept his eyes down before they'd finally left together. She was stuck in his gaze for a few moments before he hurriedly looked down again.

"I, ah, apologize.", he said quietly. He glanced up quickly though, fascinated. They spent lunch like that, her being sucked into his gaze and him sneaking awed looks at her. When they eventually got back, Daiyu explained, upon seeing the two watching eachother, that his mother had been half-Veela. Calanthia knew enough about the general species that she might have a...Troubling time with Mingyu if she looked directly at him for too long. Though he seemed well aware of that problem and kept his gaze away from her, somewhat timidly, sneaking glances when she wasn't looking directly at him. Or, trying to.

Their discussion went on to living arrangements and soon enough she and Mingyu were off.

xXx

She returned to the school with a groan, barely managing to peel off the very formal, very expensive Acromantula silk robes she used for this occasion. Mingyu was now nestled comfortably in one of her chateaus not too far from the school on Kimolos. She would see him during the holidays and summers. 'Vieve raised a brow at her when she brought this new information up while 'Mia nodded vacantly.

They didn't talk about him again.

xXx

She smiled, just slightly. She was glad she took the time to learn how to play the harp. It was a very beautiful instrument. Demelza sighed contently, laying on her bed while Meg sat at the foot of it, watching her hands distractedly. "Alright, Meg?", the blonde looked up with a blink, coming out of her reverie. She shifted, nodding. Calanthia hummed, knowing well her friend was lying and having an idea as to what was bothering her. Her hum apparently conveyed all of that, because her freckled friend winced guiltily. But, the black-haired girl let the matter go to continue playing for her friends. Classes would resume tomorrow after all. After holidays were some of the strictest lessons given to get the girls back into condition after their breaks. Most knew, however, to train and continue working after leaving the classrooms.

The fifteen year-old focused again on her music. It was very soothing to play, the harp. A lovely experience.

xXx

She pressed the heel of her boot harder against his temple, making him choke, blood spitting from his mouth. "Where.", she ground out coldly. The man whimpered, crying out as more pressure was added to his cut and aching head. He'd been trapped for a little over a month with this- this thing that paraded itself as a girl. And not just any girl, oh no. The Girl-Who-Lived, Calanthia Potter. Igor wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed to grab him- being the illustrious Highmaster of Durmstrang (and an ex-Death Eater) meant he was very carefully skilled in the Arts, be they in duelling or in the dark.

"I-I told you! I don't know!", he croaked, sobs making his chest heave painfully against the damp stone floor.

"Yes you do. And you'll tell me unless you want your mind torn to pieces.", he shuddered, terror seeping through him. He was testing her patience. "Igor."

He couldn't- he blabbed.

xXx

She stirred her tea absently. She didn't have to grab Karkaroff. But it'd been almost four years since she'd honed her skills- even if she had to be delicate with him. She couldn't remember the name of the Death Eater, but she'd made sure he lasted her a good long while. Six years until she finally let him die. She smiled fondly at the memory of the time she spent with him.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?", Megan plopped down in the seat next to hers. She'd gotten over her little awkward phase when she'd finally told them that she was pretty sure she liked girls. While there were no problems with male-male couples in the magical world, some were a bit more hesitant with female couplings- mainly because it was difficult to tell which woman would end up pregnant and take the name of the other.

"Oh...Nothing of importance. How was your day?", green eyes turned to her friend attentively. Megan grinned widely.

"I, um...I talked to Candy today.", she flushed. Candelaria Jenaro (often simply Candy) was one of the more powerful girls hailing from Spain, both in magic and personality- she was fiercely competitive and often clashed with Meg on the Quidditch field. Calanthia sent her an amused look.

"Oh?", she goaded as she felt Serpens shift at her feet, getting more comfortable.

"W-well, after she uh...Kinda...Kissed me.", the slight blush soon engulfed her face in red. The blonde grinned goofily. "She told me I was her girlfriend and I'm gonna sit with her at dinner.", she ducked her head bashfully.

"Good on you, mate.", she offered with a chuckle and Meg grinned up at her happily.

"So, anyways,", she brushed off shyly, "You start your project yet?"

"Yes.", she tasted her tea, pleased. Meg stared at her for a moment and she knew the other girl wanted to know what she was focusing her project on. "Mm. Do you know what you'll be doing?", she asked instead. Meg startled before nodding.

"I was thinking about doing the history of dragon taming.", she grinned proudly. Dragon taming was rare and tricky business, with a long, intricate and often bloody history. Calanthia smiled at her.

"Necromancy and soul magic."

"What?"

"My project.", she clarified, going back to her tea.

"Dangerous, all that is.", Demelza offered as she slid into her chair on Calanthia's other side. "I, on the other hand, am going back to tell the marvelous tale of the winged horses."

"That's only 'cause your ilk breed 'em.", Meg glared with her bright blue eyes. Sharp, cunning dark ones volleyed the look right back at her. Serpens hissed agitatedly.

("Their tension disrupts me."), he complained to his Mistress. She hummed in response as he slid around, quickly unnerving the two other girls. Basilisks were, after all, still very dangerous, very frightening creatures.

"I believe it's time we went to sleep. Classes start earlier than usual tomorrow."

xXx

Hermia stood from her desk, stretching and listening to her body pop and crack somewhat grotesquely. She was far too old. But she refused to give up before Calanthia was ready to let her go. And though she was the strongest of the three; her, Ginny- Genevieve now- and Calanthia, she was fragile. Her fragility mixed with the absurd power she had was...Dangerous. Catastrophic if she broke. And always was the green-eyed woman close to the brink. She dragged a minimally wrinkled hand down her face. Her body was nubile and slim- few wrinkles plagued her, little gray was seen from the strict bun she had it in. Potions and rituals allowed the three to remain near-immortal. Though she was sure that Thia had already surpassed them into straight invulnerability and immortality.

Often, she'd wondered if they'd made the right choices. And even more often, she wished they'd have simply left it be and died. So much work, so much effort and time, power invested in creating a better world. So much death was needed, so much power thrown around, names and money. Corruption still ran rampant- it always would. She slipped to the floo. She'd go to see him tonight again. She knew she shouldn't be consorting with him- sleeping with him. But he was a very handsome, tender man. So attentive to her needs, so eager to make her feel pleasure before him, massages and sensual nights spent in one another's embrace. But Barty Crouch Jr. was different in this life. They'd stopped many from getting the Dark Mark- whether through strong compulsion magic, through ominous letters or through simply telling the family (depending, of course, on the family). But many they left alone to get the mark. What would Riddle be without followers? Calanthia had already collected his horcruxes and interred them with her own.

She shook the thoughts away, stripping from her formal, stern robes and into something she knew Barty would appreciate. She adored the feel of silk against her skin, such a luxurious material. She well remembered back in the war times, the coarse clothing, or bared skin, of being trapped against stone walls, or irritating or painful things against time weathered skin. She let her hair fall with a flourish, dipping down low on her back.

Barty was waiting.

xXx

Genevieve stared at her hands as she felt the bed shift behind her. "Gen?", a sleepy voice called softly. Her eyes slid shut as she tipped her head back. A hand, hesitant as the first time they'd shared a bed, touched her back softly before stroking down. She turned, taking the hand into her own.

Minerva was wild when she was younger- almost like Hermia and Calanthia from their school days combined. But the Scottish woman was far fiercer than Mia in her school days. 'So wrong.', her Minnie had gotten older, had aged like everyone else. It made the ache in the redhead's chest thump angrily. "It's fine, luv.", she told the woman softly. Softer minty green eyes peered up into deep brown as the younger (how odd it is, to think that) woman sat up entirely. Her free hand came up to caress her jaw and Vieve shut her eyes, exhaling softly. She almost felt Minnie's smile. She curled her amrs around the woman, lips falling to hers passionately as they fell to the bed.

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Whoa! Shit just got weird. Barty and Mione/Hermia? McGonagall and Ginny/Vieve? Anyways! I now put up a poll for pairings so I can work this out. So go check it out!