AN: I got a question about James being allowed to sleep in. James doesn't sleep at all at night so he basically got from dawn to noon. Harry doesn't know this but he wasn't going to argue with Sirius when he told him they wouldn't wake James up for breakfast.

Chapter 25 - Essence of Doge

Voldemort was not having a pleasant evening, not least of which was because he had to drink Essence of Elphias Doge.

Polyjuice wasn't all that appealing on the best of days, Doge was not a particularly tasty individual.

So here Voldemort sat, among the swine of the Ministry, watching his least loyal be sentenced, for not their crimes, but their deceptions.

He had no qualms about voting against them. No, Lord Voldemort was here for one reason alone.

To keep what power he had.

Regrettably, that power was quite monetary, that was to say, Lucius Malfoy needed to be found innocent so he could freely access his fortune.

So, Voldemort sat, in the skin of Doge watching his pitiable followers snivel and weep as if their "life sentences" would be paid out in full.

He had half a mind to let them, only the idea that he would be hunting tonight freed him from the rage broiling in his blood.

Nott sat alone, so inebriated that he had been forced to take a sobering brew before he could speak.

'Doge' voted against him.

As Voldemort vote against Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, and Macnair.

Until it was Lucius perched on the edge of his seat like the exotic peacock he was.

Lucius had managed to bribe enough of the court not to be so utterly pathetic as the others. However, his freedom still required Voldemort to use the Imperius Curse a third of the court to push the scale, by a single vote, to dismiss his case.

Voldemort was unamused with this the tedium of this task.

Lucius, ungrateful wretch that he was, didn't even seem pleased by his freedom.

Voldemort was eager to leave when the court proceedings ended. It was nothing to implant false memories into Doge's mind and drop him back in his poorly warded home, lubricating the false memories by pouring spirits down his throat and gut. He made a substantial dent in the inventory of Doge's liquor cabinet.

After completing his regrettable time with the man, Voldemort prowled muggle London for his next task.

He did not ask for assistance as he collected his victims.

Hunting for particular features and body types was not overtly difficult, though it took him a few days to obtain them.

Despite his abduction of over thirty individuals, no one, muggle or magical, even thought to connect it to him, the Dark Lord.

For it was a pattern that no muggle would ever see and that Aurors would see far too late. He was able to steal them from the busy streets of London with no one the wiser to his purposes.

Voldemort was keeping them all in the dungeon of the Lestrange Manor. The manor was not as large as the Malfoy manor had been, but at least it was well maintained despite its masters' absence. The diligence of house elves, unseen creatures who understood their place in the world and did not resist it, unlike muggles and mudbloods.

"Let us go!" One woman yelled at him as he approached with supplies in hand.

Her thick and curly hair was reminiscent of his Bellatrix, though her features were too large, her eyes too far apart.

"Crucio," he drawled at her, wand pointed at her heart.

The muggle fell to the floor screaming.

The rest of the group jumped back, several exclaiming in profanity.

Voldemort sneered at their fear, "Rats."

"Eh," another woman protested, the one who would become his Alceto Carrow. "Fuck you."

Voldemort's lips peeled back in a snarl at the lack of respect.

He was quite done with being talked back to by his prisoners. He dropped the spell on the first woman before concurring snakes to coil around the ankles and legs of the men.

They screamed like children, struggling uselessly against the restraints as the tightly coiled snakes turned to stone. Some fell to the ground but their legs remained encased in their newly formed restraints.

The second woman stood firm, unbowed. Voldemort grabbed her by her straight hair pulling her to her knees on the ground.

"Ah, our first volunteer," he praised.

She snarled up at him like the animal she was.

He pointed his wand at her face, "Ossis Refectum!"

He pictured Alceto, pictured her face, her square jaw and her slim nose.

The bones of the women shifted accordingly, the bone liquifying and transforming into what Voldemort wished it to be. The muggle screamed, hands fluttering around her face, the pain too severe for her to touch her own rippling skin.

When he was done, he pulled back his wand.

It wasn't perfect, but in passing, the woman could have passed as a relative.

The silence in the dungeon was all-encompassing, allowing the woman's sobs to fill the space like music.

Some of the men were crying, tears wetting their faces in quiet submission to the fate about to befall them.

Looking at his creation a little more closely, Voldemort said, "Not quite right, but I'll improve with practice." He sneered at the woman still grovelling, "I'll come back to you." He flicked his wand and transfigured chains to keep her on the floor.

She wouldn't pass as Alecto on closer inspection, but after he fed them the potion he had Severus brew, the changes would be irreversible. They would die with their families unable to recognize them.

No one would ever choose this branch of transfiguration because of the dangers involved. Not to mention how dark and rare this particular anatomical transfiguration was.

"What is this?" one of the men asked.

Voldemort's lips curled back, "Magic."

The man's screams were a balm to Voldemort's frayed nerves.

oOo

Bella missed Siri.

He had been with her in this abyss since the beginning.

Well, maybe she got here first, or maybe he did, she couldn't remember. She did remember that she missed him.

But she missed Siri, like she missed Cissa, and Andy, and even Reggie. She missed them more than she missed her husband, her husband who she mostly forgot was only a few cells over.

Despite these additional feelings of loss that had been growing, she was given a slight reprieve by her new entertainment.

The toad, the intruder who could never replace Siri. She was angry and bitter, and still believed she didn't belong here.

Bella licked the bars between them.

Umbridge shuddered, huddling against the wall.

Bella laughed which made the other witch whimper.

Delightful.

Not as much fun as Sirius who would have asked her how the bars tasted.

Siri might not like her Lord, but he was smarter than this crumbled biscuit or her forgettable husband.

Bella clacked her teeth on the bars.

Andy would have come up with something more creative to torment the other witch.

Andy was smart like that, and Cissa would have done it with style.

She pulled back, bored of Umbridge's muttering of how unfair things were for her. Bella slumped against the wall, the loneliness eating what remained of her life off her bones.

And yet, in her most hopeless hour, a sound broke into the corridor.

She felt power heat the cold air, the Dementors retreating to a lower level in a parade of shadows.

"Bella," a voice hissed.

Her eyes snapped open and she ran at the outward-facing bars, reaching for—

Her fingers wrapped around a cloak and pale, pale fingers covered her fist

She yanked him against the bars, "Who are you?"

"Don't you remember me?" the noseless man crooned.

She tugged him back toward her, "Who are you!?"

He leaned forward so his face was closer to her, "Your Lord."

Bella laughed, letting go of him, laughing so hard her bones rattled.

Her Lord was beautiful and immortal.

She kept laughing even as he let her out of her cage, even as the man pulled out a box that he pulled shackled humans out of.

She thought she recognised them.

"My Lord," Rookwood grumbled with emotion that Bella hadn't thought the man capable of.

"Will they really believe this ruse?" Her husband, or her husband's brother, asked. She stopped being able to tell them apart a few years ago.

Well, maybe a few decades earlier, she didn't have any idea how many lifetimes she had spent here.

"It needn't last," No-Nose (she wasn't ready to believe he was her Lord yet) said. "Confusion and embarrassment are all that I require. The Dementors will enjoy the fresh meet."

"If they are muggles, they won't make it out of here alive," her maybe-or-maybe-not husband said as he helped exchange prisoners. The muggles were listless.

Bella watched them all, curious as "the Dark Lord" exchanged their bloodied clothing with their prison uniforms, if you could call the rags they wore that.

She noticed one of the doppelgangers looked like Andy, she caught her wrist, pulling them nose to nose with each other.

There were tears in the women's boring blue eyes, she was not Andy, not with those eyes, however, she was a mirror. "It's me!" she crowed, laughing at the beautiful gift she had been given.

She took her image by the throat and started to squeeze down.

No one was allowed to steal her face.

Her face was Andy's face, it was bad manners to steal faces.

"You crazy bitch!" Her maybe-husband yelled, ripping the muggle from her grasp and shoving the imposter into her old cell, relocking the door.

Bella slapped him.

In response, he backhanded her, the taste of blood blooming on her tongue like sweet wine.

She launched herself at him. Her uncut nails which she had fashioned into talons, Bella directed at his eyes.

Nott, who had only joined the company a few weeks ago, caught her around the waist.

"We are being freed! You crazy ass bitch!" Her husband said. It had to be her husband, the younger Lestrange brother was scared of her, had been since she had tried castrating them both when they embarrassed her once in front of their Lord.

No-Nose sighed, "Into the box, all of you, I don't want to draw attention as we depart."

"Take me with you!" A voice called out.

They all turned to look at the voice.

Umbridge.

The toad.

Bella laughed at her.

"I don't think so," Mulciber said, stretching his arms above his head. "We don't need any more disparate half-bloods."

"I'll scream," the toady threatened.

Bella wasn't the only one to laugh at this statement.

"Go ahead and scream," Rookwood rumbled. "No one will care. No one will save you."

Her sometimes friends were climbing into the box the no-nosed man had brought with him.

Mulciber began helping Nott drag her toward the box, "Come on, you bloody whore. We are getting out of here."

"I'll swim!" she cried, a sense of wrongness filling her. She had to wait for her Lord.

She had to find him.

Mulciber was a big man, even starved as they both were, and he bore down on her wrists until the ligaments were grinding against each other. "Don't you want to find your cousin?" Mulciber asked, giving her husband a wary look.

Although she was confused, Bella didn't stop trying to get away, her feet scrambling on the stone floor. "Cousin?" she echoed, digging her nails into his hands.

He didn't so much as flinch as he yanked her as Nott shoved her forward from behind.

"Siri," her husband elaborated. "Your plaything."

"I should have married him," Bella snarled.

Lestrange sighed, "Give a girl everything and she still wants to bend over for her mongrel cousin."

She screamed at him, trying to run at him again.

Trying to escape the box she was being forced into.

A white wand was pointed at her temple, visible in the gloom. Light flowed from the tip.

Bella was seized by sleep as violently as if she had shoved down the stairs.

She felt as if she was flying as she fell and fell.

And fell.

oOo

Join the maybe-it's-a-cult: discord dot gg /BNMEXM9RBB

oOo

AN: Thoughts, cult, wyverns, or feedback, pretty please?