Odyssey of a Mage Part III

by mootjeman7

Part III of Odyssey of a Mage. Post Grindelwald era. Atticus Sayre, reincarnated soul has chosen to carry the fate of all Magical-Kind onto his shoulders. A weight that bears heavy on his soul for all that must be done. And it is a weight he intends carry all the way to the very stars. Ruthless, Determined SI-OC. Fem Riddle. Pre-Halo Crossover.

22. Chapter 82

Visual Bliss: Not Grindelwald :)

HughJasz: Haha, can't say you're exactly wrong ;p

Mastersgtjames: They will all go. The habitats have already begun the work decades ago. Magical Plants will be taken though obviously there will quite a few that remain though they will be dismissed mostly by the muggles I imagine.

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next chapter is available on discord whilst at least the next three chapters after it are available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117

The discord channel is d^i^s^c^o^r^d^.^g^g^/^v^r^8^8^t^6^4^Y^e^7

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23rd of April, 1971 – Illos, Celestis City

Amelie Cantona POV

She heard Lyra descend down the steps and when she entered, she heard her mumble in a yawning voice "smells snice" and Amelie turned around with a raised eyebrow as perched herself down onto the kitchen table stand, her face looking tired and in need of a long soak.

"snice?" Amelie said with a quirk of her lips, her left incisor showing through her lopsided smile. Lyra unapologetically shrugged.

"Snice." Lyra only repeated and Amelie laughed as she flipped the pan and the eggs turned over, her eyes still on her wife that looked at her with fond exasperation.

"Too tired for saying super nice properly?"

Lyra's little sway of the head was answer enough and Amelie smiled before she turned away to put the eggs on the three plates by the stove that already had bacon on the side. She liked the act of cooking. It was very calming. Just as she finished plating the food, she heard the lackadaisical little steps descending down the stairs.

Amelie picked up all three plates and set them onto the kitchen table stand. "Good morning Nino" Amelie said as she smiled at their little boy.

"Morning mum, mama" Nino mumbled as he took the stool next to Lyra who decided to give their son a little wet kiss on the forehead and Nino was too sleep addled to give his usual protestations as she put the plate of food in front of him before handing over a plate to Lyra and sat down opposite Nino.

Nino tapped on the kitchen table dial and selected his condiment and with a flash, a little cup of brown sauce appeared from the delivery.

Nino picked it up and poured on the side of his breakfast before he tucked in. Amelie smiled before she turned to Lyra who was bit off a piece of bacon and she remembered something. "It'll be a late day for you won't it?" she asked

Lyra swallowed the piece of bacon and nodded a little displeased "Old Parkie wants go in detail about the security detail…as if we haven't done so numerous times over the past few weeks." She rolled her eyes

"And will do so again a day before it all begins."

"It'll be a huge turnout. Larger than four years ago when we had about twenty thousand visitors." Amelia said with a frown "Not surprised he's dialled up security readiness to the nth degree." Amelie touched the dial and a red drink materialised which she picked up. "And you should stop calling him that" Amelie said as she tilted her blood filled glass towards Lyra.

"You mean Old Parkie?" Lyra said a little mischievously before she threw the last piece of bacon into her mouth.

"Whose gonna tell? You" Lyra questioned challengingly with a smile on her face before she swivelled her head towards Nino who was definitely listening to their conversation as subtly as he could and Lyra's eyes sparkled with mischievous intent, her hands primed

"Or our little Spy who is doing such a good job eavesdropping?!" Lyra demurred loudly as she pounced onto Nino with her hands, tickling him everywhere she could, his giggles and laughing pleas of 'stop' and 'mercy' a joyful music that rang in their home.

She looked on fondly at the scene over the rim of her drink, her happiness blooming from within like a new born star seconds after sparking into existence from its stellar nursery.

This was their little heaven on Earth.

She thought she'd been happy when it had been her and Lyra but after Nino was born…she was so so wrong. A piece of herself and Lyra was in their little boy and watching him grow, watching him go through life every day with them there every step of the way…

She was silent as she drank her blood, her eyes still fixed on the two people she loved more than anything else in life.

To think she had been doubtful at first. She could not conceive nor could she carry a child to term, not with her hybrid dhampire nature, but thanks to this treatment, she was nevertheless able to become a mother.

They had many arguments, most of it about her own…unsuitability to be a mother and she was ashamed to say that she almost lost Lyra over her own self-hatred – not that Lyra ever said so but Amelie knew Lyra despaired about her self-hatred – and she was never gladder to have been so so wrong. Nino meant everything to them and she would not change anything…not even her own dhampire nature, not any more, if it meant Nino wouldn't be.

Her life…had not been easy after…Belgium.

The nightmares had long ago gone away but she still had many years of trauma. She'd worked through it as best as she could, working to protect Illos in any way she could, through blood and protection, but there was still something that had always stuck with her…no matter how Lyra helped with it. No matter how much His Majesty had done to restore her mind. And when she held Nino in her arms…

She'd never felt more at peace than she did at that moment, that knot in her heart finally coming undone and she felt like she could breathe again.

Nino…meant everything to her.

He was her little Prince.

"Okay." Lyra said as she finally let their son go "Go upstairs and get ready." She said as she gently pushed Nino off the seat and Nino took that as a cue to run up the stairs. Lyra turned to Amelie with a raised eyebrow "How much do you want to bet he'll be on the Magicom in…" she trailed off sing-songy as she counted down with her fingers "now?"

"No bet." Amelie said with a bored pointed look that lasted a good few seconds because the pair of them broke out in smiles. Lyra placed her hands on the table using it as leverage as she got up "Right. I will go for a shower." Lyra said with a curious smile on her face and Amelie's lips twitched. In amusement and disappointment.

"I've already showered." Amelie said and she broke out in a smile again "and nooo" she said as she walked towards Lyra and seized her by the shoulders and turned her around "I won't shower again, you minx" she said before she slapped on Lyra's arse who yelped slightly.

She turned around, a lustful look on her face and she winked saucily. "Your loss." Lyra said with a very very put on sway of the hips and annoyingly very seductive too. Lyra caught her trailing look and laughed in delight as she went up the stairs.

Amelie shook her head and took a few calming breaths "That woman is going to be the death of me" she muttered though it was with a fond smile.

About an hour later, they were all dressed and ready to go. Nino looked adorable in his little Rosi uniform with the little Loki themed satchel that contained all of his school stuff. Though she looked on disapprovingly at the Magi-Gram, the small hand held game console that also functioned as a com, in his tiny hands and she took it from him. "What did I say about using this on morning school days?"

"Not to." Nino mumbled as he looked forlornly at the device when Lyra took it upon herself to floated it away from her hands towards the living room table.

"Honestly, what could a bunch of eight year olds discuss that is so important it can't wait until school." Lyra said more to herself than to anyone else with a hint of exasperated perplexity.

Soon enough they were out of the home and onto the smooth pavement stone. Their home was on the 'beach front' of the first ring of water facing Mount Celestis and it was nearby the school and the Main Tower so they always opted to walk Nino to school and then to work afterwards.

A lot had changed over the past decade or so.

The skies were often filled with hundreds of skymobiles though it was very organised after the hard-light lanes were introduced to the skyline that zoned traffic in across the city and across the other more rural regions.

She was glad for it even if she knew accidents barely did any kind of damage or injuries thanks the wards that surrounded the city but when there were sixty thousand people in the city itself and a third of that in the rural regions, it was a necessity really for there to be official 'laws of the skies' like there were now.

She nodded politely at a neighbour who smiled at them before they crossed the street and turned left. Sixty thousand people. She could scarcely believe how much they'd grown over the years and even less so when she thought that it was barely noticeable.

Well, that was a lie really. The streets were busier. There were more shades of skin than before and there were far many more adults now than at the beginnings.

The first generation born on Illos were adults now and growing to be the best of them all. The squibs-turned-magical were as much Illosians as born Illosians were and the immigrant magicals, both human and near human, were fully integrated and their own culture enriching that of Illos in their own ways.

Especially their food, she thought with a smile as the taste of the Sardinian cuisine she had the previous night lingered in her mind.

And she knew…the city had room for many more people.

Her faint smile fell off as she looked over to Nino and Lyra who were happily chatting away about something a friend of Nino had shared.

Room, she thought with a grim determination, that may be needed. She thought the secondary objectives of her mission had greater success than the primary objectives and in all honesty…from what she knew about the culpability about a lot of the Union's populace, she didn't think they were worth fighting for.

Before too long, they made it to the school and Amelie kissed the top of Nino's head before she let go of him and he ran off.

They watched Nino run into school and soon enough they were alone and on the way to work. Nino's school was only a twenty minute walk away from the Main Tower.

They had a chance to move to somewhere in the rural districts but they liked the place they called home for many years and the short walk was something both liked a lot and it allowed them a little alone time in an otherwise normally busy day.

"So it's for definite then?" Lyra asked out of the blue as they walked. Amelie glanced at Lyra who didn't look at her. She knew what she was asking about…they'd discussed it plenty of times.

"Yes." Amelie said quietly. "After the Beltane Festival."

Lyra grabbed her hand and Amelie squeezed her hand, both of them turning towards each other. Lyra had a tremulous smile on her face, one that Amelie tried to wipe away with an assuring smile. It didn't really seem to work.

"I will come back to you…to Nino" Amelie promised. It wasn't a wise thing to promise, she knew, but she didn't want to worry Lyra more than she already was.

"I'm just…" Lyra trailed off, her concern practically radiating out from her.

Amelie squeezed Lyra's hand again. "I know." She said a little quieter.

The mission to Greece would be one of her longest assignments since Chile six years ago and she had a feeling that it might take upward of a year until she might be recalled.

She was part of the Investigatory Branch of the Office of Intelligence which was effectively the branch that neutralised threats to Illos or stability within the magical world. Her work was often dangerous and…dirty.

Colombia, Norway and Jamaica were proof of that.

Which meant that while she was not necessarily privy to top secret information, she was privy to the majority of it and so she knew more than just a little about the happenings across Ravenite occupied Europe.

It wasn't pretty. Not at all. Nothing as bad as…De Galle…but enough people had died and would die and this was an opportunity to assist the insurgency and grow a movement across the Union.

If she and her team were successful…they could prevent many more deaths…especially Illosian deaths. War…war was all but inevitable and the more they did now, the more she did now, the more lives she could save.

The last thing she wanted was for war to break out when Nino was old enough. 'No, I cannot think about that even being a possibility!' she thought furiously.

"It will all work out, you'll see" Amelie said with a hundred percent sincerity as they reached the Main Tower. Lyra gave her a weak smile, the same kind of smile that Amelie knew meant that she was doubtful about her statement.

"I will see you later" Lyra said as she leaned in and captured Amelie's lips and moments turning on her heel and walking away. Amelie watched her go for a few moments before she shook her head. It would be fine. Lyra always got like this in the days running up to her missions and she'd always return. This time…

This time would be no different.

-Break-

26th of April, 1971 – Circum Domum Council Chambers, Morfay

Fleamont Potter POV

"I ask the Minister of Agriculture, what consideration she has given to the protocols of sugar, fruits and alcoholic beverages from the Caribbean communities that depend on low tariffs from Avalon and its neighbours?" Mobius Enright, the Councillor for Nomus District asked.

The Minister of Agriculture stood up and Fleamont tuned out the answer provided by the Minister, instead opting to gaze around the Council Chambers.

The old Wizengamot Chambers had been preserved during the move towards Morfay – then Hogsmeade – though it was still markedly different. The Council had the Wizengamot domed circular form though its tiered sections were removed and instead replaced with ornate benches several tiers high that grouped Parties together.

At present there were six different parties within the Council of Avalon. The Secessionists, the Progressives, the Collectives Party, the Economists Party, the Traditionalists and of course Ouroboros.

The Collectives Party and the Economist Party were the Avalonian versions of the same parties that dominated in Illos. Though, of course, they were hardly able to do so here in Avalon. Not with Ouroboros, what he considered to be the Queen's own personal party, having retained much of the goodwill and the public trust because of their… 'righting of the ship' as some say in the years before Magical Britain became Avalon.

Of course, it helped that they had the historical – and current – ties to Queen Emily.

As it was, Ouroboros retained just under seventy-five percent of the electoral votes in the last election allowing Ouroboros to effectively steer the nation unimpeded and unfortunately it seemed that they would face little danger of losing their obscene majority any time soon based on the latest polling even if they were down from the eight-six percent of the vote they had won in the first election.

His own party, the Progressives, had made significant gains in the latest round of election though that was mostly because they had a reality check in the first election when much of their mandate proved incredibly unpopular.

He'd thought he'd have been out of the filthy business years ago but against his better judgment returned to politics to take charge of the Progressives, he thought with a grimace. Fleamont blamed his ancestors for instilling within him and all Potters such a sense of duty.

In any case, as much as things had changed, the tediousness of government had not. Not even that could be 'blended' away as they had blended in the old with the new.

'The old with the new…' Fleamont mused on that phrasing, a phrasing that had almost become a slogan of sorts. It was a slogan and belief that none of his fellow party members had answers to who'd been to fixated on reversing a lot of the popular reforms. Well, not until he led the party with a different mandate mostly acceptable to the public in this new, strange and dangerous era.

'The old with the new…'. How innocent it seemed.

Fleamont would have snorted if it didn't hide the danger within itself.

The Wizengamot might have been replaced by a democratically elected 'Council' with the people becoming the source of legitimate power and the Ministry itself by a small army of 'civil' workers but it was far from where power truly lied

From a glancing look, it seemed like nothing was amiss.

The Council of Avalon did and worked as it was supposed to and was represented by the electorate who would vote for their party of choice.

One hundred and forty-three seats would be split based on the votes won by each party and thirty days after the general election, the electorate in each district would vote to select their favoured individual they wanted to represent them in the Council of Avalon from the party that had gained majority in that particular district.

But it was from then on that things became…clouded.

The Party who won the majority of electoral districts would then form a government in the name of Her Majesty before swearing a binding oath of office that was similar in kind to that which had to be sworn amongst the Councillors though the obvious exemption was the lack of swearing to be faithful to the Queen as required by the government and was instead centred around being faithful to the Constitution.

The government ruled in Queen Emily's name and by her leave would a government be allowed to form. People had noticed and when she had been asked about this, about whether or not it should be up to her to have the power to refuse a government to form, she only responded with 'What is to stop another Lowe or worse collaborators like those that have sold out their country to the Ravenites from doing the same here? I am the final defender at the gates and you can trust me not to abuse my authority just as my ancestor Arthur Pendragon never did'

Fleamont understood his brother's hatred of the woman very well – though he thought it was only half due – for she was as conniving as her ancestor Salazar was purported to be…before this new legacy of his that the woman twisted into existence decades ago. In actuality, there was only a mirage of choice.

From the moment her heritage – as much as he wanted to deny it, having her heritage confirmed by the Goblins themselves before their subjugation was a deathly blow to them – was revealed, she played on the emotions of the wider public masterfully.

She tapped into their history, into their pride of their heritage and the allure of a mythical homeland like Avalon and Camelot – and that he reflected back on it, he now knew she must have known about her heritage decades when the plays about Avalon and Excalibur were released in theatres preparing for the day that she would rise to the throne – into their fear of the muggles and into the trust they had in her.

He wondered…had they planned all of this that far back?

It was a question that he often asked himself and it was a question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to…not when he, for certain, knew doing anything about it was about to be as successful as a flea defeating a dragon, he thought mirthlessly.

'A Thousand and One Eyes'…

Fleamont suspected there was likely a few thousand more to the Seeing eyes of Atticus Sayre, he thought grimly before he mentally shook away those thoughts.

Combined with her grip on formerly Traditionalist Houses and on Ouroboros itself, it all allowed her move mountain and earth that would never have been conceivable in any era before. Merlin had never commanded such authority over their people.

It was doubtful even Arthur Pendragon did.

And when the public were told their homes of centuries would need to be moved to Scotland…they simply accepted it because it came from the Queen. The public were told that all contact with the muggle world needed to end. They accepted it because it came from the Queen.

Any significant protests from most of the nobility had been quelled when their lands were physically moved to Scotland itself – just as his own ancestral home had been moved – and had their lands enchanted to replicate as much of their former abode's climate. Fleamont, just as many others had, were given a stark reminder of what they were capable of. And for him…well…it made him realise that they were more helpless than he could have imagined.

Others were placated and 'honoured' through other means and through the House of Lords, the spiritual successor to the Wizengamot though in reality it was a mere shadow of even the previous iteration after the Bombing, was successful in quelling most of the remaining unrest amongst the Nobility even further.

The Old Nobility, which any House with 'noble heritage' was now called and could campaign for a seat in the Chamber of Lords – as much as Fleamont hated it, he was co-opted back into nobility and its politics he'd previously was glad to be shot of – selected amongst themselves on who'd sit within the Chamber of Lords, a function of parliament that assisted the Council of Avalon in making and shaping laws.

It also functioned as a medium to check the Council's power and it ran for a period of twenty-eight years before another round of election was made to 'refresh' the Chamber though in reality, Houses like the Blacks, the Malfoys, the McKinnons, the Longbottoms and so on would rarely not be selected to be amongst the Lordly Peers by simple nature of their extensive alliances and debts they were owed by the lesser nobility.

Fleamont glanced at the current addressor before he sank deeper in his chair, his gaze turning towards the ceiling, beyond the ceiling as his expression gained a faraway look.

On and on it went, this exertion of power and sweeping changes in the British Isles and over its peoples and the majority of people simply…lapped it up with few people even wanting to protest any of it.

And those that did call for rebellion against the Sayres were silenced under the weight of the public opinion, common and noble alike, and those that continued where at best marginalised.

If that didn't work…

Exile or imprisonment and if even that wasn't enough…

Well, the Goblins, who had personally felt the fury of the Sayres, could attest to what could happen if you proved to be without compromise.

Charlus was so wroth with the 'tyrants' and he had to resort to pleading to get him to step away from the proverbial ledge that he intent on jumping from.

This was not a fight that could be won at a wand's tip.

It was one of politics, of public opinion. And it was a war they had lost before it could even begin, Fleamont thought with a kind of resigned defeatism.

It was honestly frightening to see how little of the country he'd been born to remained and how people simply…adapted to it all. Even centuries old wizards and witches, those who had been the most steadfast against any kind of modernisation like his father had proposed, were now eating out of the palms of the Pendragon Queen like voracious wolves that hadn't fed for weeks.

A grim smile threatened to come across his face. Not even the darkest of families protested as their political power was culled dramatically.

Did they know that once their current Heads of Houses like Abraxas Malfoy or Rasmussen Lestrange died, all of the power they wielded would not be inherited?

That their power was merely granted by the King and Queen only to be taken away when they saw fit?

There was a great sense of irony that their former form of governance ruled by the nobility for the nobility replaced by a democratically elected Council had left them closer to tyranny than the Wizengamot and the Ministry ever did.

But then…wasn't there a sense of truth in the notion of 'the tyranny of the majority'?

The Monarchs' actions and morally bankrupt directives did not come in a vacuum; it came with tacit and in many cases avid support from the public itself.

'No one has a right to endanger the magical world, not even I or my husband.

In a world where muggles are remorseless in their pursuit of victory, where muggles are without moral rightness and able to inflict deaths to entire cities filled with hundreds of thousands of their kind – a number of deaths that would lead us perilously close to extinction – what right do any of us have to freely endanger the Statute of Secrecy by continuing to mix with the muggles whose fears would lead to our exploitation at best and extermination as most likely as they have done to many other muggle peoples?

Whose fears would lead them to wish to exterminate us as a threat to their supposed superiority and mastery of this Earth?

No right, my fellow magicals. None of us have that right and that is why we must separate our worlds fully from theirs so that both our peoples can live in peace and that means we must make difficult choices to secure a brighter and safe future.'

There was a bitter respect for the woman's astuteness with the way she twists genuine concern into outcries of support and demand for action.

She and her husband and all of their sycophants crafted obedience into the hearts and minds of the people like a serpent whispering sweet lullabies into the ears of babes, crafting and shaping them into their supporting pillars.

He'd seen the unwavering loyalty the Illosians held to the monarchs and he knew that Avalon was well on its way to having that same blind obedience of those people.

He feared what they would do with the blind obedience.

He'd already seen people accepting immoral acts and crimes that should have been abhorrent to good people. How many steps were they really away from the same atrocities happening that had and was still happening in Europe?

Even the Weasleys thought little about the separation of children from their parents or the pressuring of squib families to make the unnecessary choice between either the magical world and magic or the muggle world and the rest of their families.

After all…

Who wouldn't prefer the magical world to the barbaric muggles?

That was the crux of the matter.

None of the initiatives she had enforced were considered to be morally wrong for the public to protest about nor did it affect them in their pockets, their bellies or their safety. In actuality, it fitted nicely in their worldview…in the superiority of the magical world.

Even family like the Weasleys that were known to be muggle sympathisers were not immune to this sense of superiority and it was a bias that the monarchs wielded like an expert swordsman.

With the public opinion shaped by papers like the Daily Prophet and the IMP, there was no hope of getting people to see the wrongness of what had been done.

Acceptance of even muggles in the magical world, those who decided to remain with their spouses and their children with their memories intact, was another argument that swayed towards the moral righteousness of what was being done pulling any teeth from the opposition to their other measures of total separation.

And if that wasn't enough...

The anger that horror stories from orphaned or saved squibborns shared about the intolerance by muggles was. There was a truly cruel genius in the way they had pulled the teeth of the opposition so much so that even he had no winning rebuttal.

And in truth…they were always going to be fighting up-hill. Who ever wanted to be wrong? To be told 'you're wrong'? That all of you have been misled and co-opted into agreeing to things that anyone else asking you would have been refused flatly?

No one would wish to think what they were agreeing with was wrong, no one wanted to even consider what was being done was an injustice on a grand scale that almost comparable to the crimes of yesteryears. Not by a minority that were already somewhat distrusted for their previous remarks.

No…this was not a problem that could be solved easily…or perhaps ever.

Fleamont shook his head, his gaze sweeping across the chambers as the words of the current addressor fell mutely into his ears. And the frustrating thing – and silver lining he supposed – was...

They were doing a lot of good too.

A traitorous thought entered his mind, one that was along the lines that the good far outweighed the bad but he banished it away knowing that the thought was tainted with personal benefit.

Poverty was non-existent.

Everyone was employed in some fashion or another.

Every child was in formal education be they poor or limited in magical strength. Families were able now to have more than just one or two children, some electing to have as many as six now that it was possible and without economic difficulty.

Food was abundant and varied. Entertainment, magi-tech even travelling across the magical world was open to anyone and everyone at affordable prices.

Advancements were made in both magic and science at a startling pace, even the Void was not a barrier with the way the Illosians – and soon Avalon – explored it, set foot on other planets and moons, nothing seemed to be out of reach.

Impossible was made possible and they never let it be forgotten by whose grace it was achieved. Even the impossibility of achieving true equality among blood statuses and those with creature blood or entirely different species.

Muggleborns…or squibborns, whatever you wanted to call them, were equal and accepted under the law and society. Even the few muggles were treated as normally as they could be treated. Squibs if young enough could be treated and their magic activated and so casting out from the family of squibs of shame became a thing of the past. Species like the Goblins, Veela, even the altered werewolves, Lycans as they are called now, were living peacefully amongst them.

Fleamont sighed. It would have been easy if they were simply tyrants.

Instead, they were as close to benevolent as tyrants and dictators could get.

And the tragedy of it all…if Fleamont had the option to simply…remove them…he knew that he would elect not to. Not because he cared for them, not because he thought he owed them his allegiance but because like a house made from a deck of Chocolate Frog Cards, everything would come crashing down if they vanished.

The Ravenites at the other side of the Channel were a stark reminder of how good things were in Avalon even if they under the rule of the Sayres.

And he knew…knew that despite how much he disagreed with much that was done, there was no one else capable of ensuring the levels of fairness and wealth that Avalon now boasted. His father's dreams of co-existence with muggles might be dead but acceptance was not. Even if it only extended to those few in Avalon.

And that…at the very least was worth preserving.

"I call Radley Brown to speak" the Chief Witch Madame Marchbanks called out from her seat at the top of the Council Chambers and Fleamont refocused away from the dour thoughts he was having and he gazed towards his fellow party member.

The aged wizard whose hair were as white as pearls rose up from his seat, parchment in hand "I thank you, Chief Witch Marchbanks" the aged man who represented the district of Boothy-by-the-Sea said before he began to read from his parchments.

Despite the fact that almost everyone used holo-magic for everything and anything, including corresponding with one another, by sight, by speech and by writing, parchments and quills were still perquisites to be used in any official governmental procedures. He would have found it humorous if it wasn't so tedious.

"I ask the distinguished Chief Minister whether, in view of the so called Union of Magical Europe's treatment of political opposition within its governments, Her Majesty's Government will confer with its allies to pressure the Union to cease its aggressive actions against its own citizens"

"Hear Hear" rang around the Chambers which Fleamont had grimly joined in.

The reports from the half dozen Danish families of refugees had been horrifying.

The Danish Folkmoot under Otto Ælvisson was totalitarian but compared to the others, they had been relatively tolerable amongst the intolerable.

No more, Fleamont grimly thought.

And with the heavy border restrictions the Union enforced across its territory, there would be little they could do to help those people short of war. Not even the muggle world was free from the Ravenite's monitoring after they plugged that security problem in 1968 though how effective it was, Fleamont didn't know.

Not when there were still refugees incoming nearly every month.

The Minister of Avalon rose from his seat and approached the dais "I thank the venerable Mr Brown for his question." The Minister, Percival Prince, a distant cousin of Lord Prince, placed his folder onto the dais and continued

"The recent plight of the beleaguered citizenry of Denmark shall be discussed amongst many such other analogous acts of aggression by the Union of Magical Europe when I sit with my counterparts in the upcoming conference with the Grand Alliance" Minister Prince said with stoic forbearance.

The questions to the Chief Minister on the Union continued apace by Councillors from nearly all of the Parties voted into their seats.

"Will the Chief Minister and his government advise the Council on what actions it will petition to take against the Union?" David Brooke, the leader of the Secessionist Party questioned, the room quietly muttering under their breath the moment he began to speak. Brooke was a squibborn in his fifties that was forcefully moved back from the muggle world that he'd lived in since graduating Hogwarts, a resentment and similar experience that he shared with most of his fellows in the Secessionist Party.

"This government" Brooke said with a disdainful note in his voice as he took a moment's pause before continuing "Has turned a blind eye against the grave crimes that are committed against the good people of Europe for the sake of a false peace." Brooke gesticulated with his hand, his index finger swaying from one side to the other with fury laden motion.

"I beseech this government to at the very least impose harsher economic sanctions on the Union if action beyond that is deemed a bridge too far."

The Chief Minister rose up from his seat "I reject any claim that this government or its allies have turned a blind eye to the sufferings of Europe." Prince said with a glint of challenge in his voice.

"We have taken in more refugees than any other magical nation on Earth, often coming with nothing but the clothes on their back and their wands in their hands.

We have nursed them. We have housed and fed them. We even granted them citizenship of this nation, an act that hardly any other nation has followed through with. To say we have turned a blind eye to their sufferings is not only offense to us but to our newest citizens as well."

Brooke stood up, his body language clear that he wanted to press on and spoke when bid to by the Chief Witch Marchbanks "Yet no further action is taken against the Dark Lords that have exiled them from their homes. Yet this government is silent to the abhorrence that is still committed against the native peoples of Europe, especially against those they deem impure" Brooke said with an ugly look on his face.

Fleamont felt some sympathy for Brooke knowing this was a deeply personal issue.

Brooke's wife was a second generation squibborn from Austria that with the luck of the leprechauns managed to escape to Avalon by sea. From what he'd read about her accounting of what was happening in Austria to people like herself, it brought horrifying parallels to what Grindelwald had done in the Belgian camps.

Still…as much sympathy he had for his wife and the others like her, unfortunately any action against the Union had to be carefully measured and taken.

The time of declaring war against the Union and hope for it to be a quick victory had long past. The ICW's ineptitude and blatantly feigned ignorance to the happenings of Europe had caused this situation to spiral out without control.

It was an open secret amongst the Council that the Grand Alliance would have to bring Europe back into the world of moral civilisation and even a decapitation strike against the Raven and Cullaica was not going to solve the institutional evils nor would the zealous Ravenites easily give in. It would take years to put Europe right.

Perhaps even decades, Fleamont thought with an internal wince.

And with everyone knowing that this time there would be no leniency for the families that aided and allied with the Ravenites as they had done with Grindelwald, it was a certainty that this was to be a devastating war that was going to claim many many more lives than the Grindelwald war did.

He would at least give credit to Prince and his government to avoid that for as long as possible…regardless of how much it was looming over the horizon.

Prince was far more preoccupied with ensuring the independence of the French and the other free Western European Ministries and as reluctant as he was in saying it, he agreed with this course of action.

And it wasn't as if they were completely without action against the Union.

There were significant economic sanctions against the Union and magi-tech companies were forbidden of any kind of business with the Union and Union influenced Ministries. The fact that even to this day they were receiving refugees, however few they are in comparison to the early years, spoke of hidden action.

Angry murmurs filled the chambers before the Chief Minister stood up.

"You demand more action but are dangerously obtuse to the consequences of such actions." The Chief Minister said in a rebuking tone that caused Brooke to redden in anger.

The Chief Minister continued though this time, his expression reduced into a serene calmness yet his voice as he spoke carried stoic finality "My government is dedicated to solving the challenges that we face as a community. I will not be able to say any further than that."

The rest of the Council session turned painfully uneventful and after speaking to a few of his party members, he made his way home.

Fleamont exited the floo "Euphie? James? Effie?" he called out whilst he dusted off the ash from his robes before he made his way through the Manor.

"Father!" Fleamont heard from the top of the stairs and he smiled as he heard tiny little footsteps descend the stairs rapidly. He turned around and waited for his youngest to come down.

She came running towards him, her long brown hair swaying from one side to the other and he swept her into his arms.

"Oof" Fleamont said with a groan whilst he shook dramatically, as if he was struggling to hold her up and it caused his five year old daughter to giggle freely.

He and Euphie had been resigned to be childless despite their attempts over the decades and after Dorea had Henry, he had been content enough with his lot in life.

Until James came along completely unexpected though it was much to their joy.

Once Assisted Conception was proven to be successful, he and Euphie had held long conversations about whether they wanted to add to their little family. Euphie had always wanted a large family and it had weighed on her for many years and now they had a chance to add to their family without being too risky to her health.

And so, in 1965, at the ripe age of sixty-eight, Euphie became pregnant with their daughter Elizabeth 'Effie' Euphemia Potter born in February 1966.

"What were you doing upstairs?" he asked his daughter as he balanced her in his arms.

"Watching Matilda the Explorer!" Effie chirped happily before she flushed and the smile turned into a displeased pout "Mom and Jamie wouldn't let me fly with them so I didn't want to watch them anymore. Matilda is much more fun anyway!"

Fleamont chuckled slightly at the cheek of his daughter. "I see. Well let's go find your mother and your brother, shall we?" Fleamont asked as he made a big show of carrying her, as if she was as heavy as a bag of stones.

"Daaaaadd" Effie whined adorably as she hit him with her little fists.

"Stop. I'm not that heavy!"

"But you didn't want to be called little pea anymore" Fleamont said with a frown "You said you were a big girl and big girls are big peas"

Fleamont nodded very sagely "And big peas are very heavy!"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Effie said a little indignantly and Fleamont fought hard to keep up his frown. "I'm not any kind of pea, big or little! I'm just Effie!"

Fleamont nodded agreeably and he could see the little hopefulness in her tiny adorable face "I see" he paused for a moment as he began to walk with his little girl in his arms, a mischievous smile on his face "Well then, Just Effie, let's be off then."

Her indignant cry of 'Daaaaaad' was music to his ears, his chest vibrating with his hearty laughter as he led them towards the backyard.

He spotted Euphie playing pick-up Quaffle with James a little higher up than usual. Instead of opting to call them down, he decided to simply continue to speak with his daughter whilst keeping a watchful eye on the pair in the air.

He listened as she chattered away about whatever came to mind, only stopping her to ask questions about this or that, and it was a quarter of an hour afterwards that his wife and son finally spotted them.

James came down with tremendous speed, only pulling up his broom at the last second. Fleamont looked fondly but exasperatedly at his son "Really?"

James only flashed him a mischievous grin "What?" he said in a not-at-all innocent tone. Fleamont rolled his eyes at his son. The boy had a confidence that put even the most famous actors to shame and he had no idea where it came from.

That wasn't quite true, he supposed.

James was a prodigy in the air and was scouted by the youth scouts of numerous Quidditch teams at school where he was on the Primary School team from the age of seven, the earliest one could be in the Avalonian Junior-Division 2 league.

James had not been immune to the kinds of fawning he'd hoped James wouldn't get until he was well in his teens. Fleamont blamed Euphie really. She encouraged James far too much.

James hopped off of his broom as Euphie floated her way down and he caught her gaze, a gaze that was accompanied with a bright smile.

Still…he supposed things could be much worse, he thought as he smiled back at his wife.

-Break-

27th of April, 1971 – Illos, Main Tower

The door to his office opened and Atticus turned away from the window that overlooked the city, his eyes falling on the Chief Representative that was being escorted in.

"Your Majesty" Paul Doyle said with a deep bow as he entered the room.

"Chief Representative" he acknowledged before he gestured the man in towards a seat. Doyle looked appreciatively as he moved towards the seat.

Doyle was a half-blood Irishman who joined Illos not long after he graduated from SIMS. Doyle was a thin and tall brown haired man, almost too thin but it worked to give him a considerable presence that was neither weak nor overly overbearing.

His youthful bearded face added to that presence, a sophistication that made it seem as if he were an academic, a professor and Atticus knew that the man leaned into that perception a lot…and he did it very well.

Doyle joined the Collective's Party about sixteen years ago and was elected to a Representative seat in the second primary elections after managing to win over the various ethnicities of his district with his wit and his dry and quick witted humour.

Underneath that wit and humour however, there was a keen mind geared towards proactive politics and that was quite refreshing. Smith-Rowe had been dutiful and more than willing to do what is necessary but it wasn't hard to see that the man preferred to exhaust all other options before arriving to the inevitable.

In any case, after having served as one of Smith-Rowe's advisors, Doyle was quickly identified as his successor despite being younger and others more 'due' for leadership.

Atticus had known he was going to become his Chief Representative and he wasn't disappointed with what he'd physically seen from the man.

After they got settled in and drinks were poured, Atticus, before drinking from his glass of wine asked "How are our guests settling in?"

Whilst Emily and Atticus were Heads of State, Doyle was the head of government in the most basic terms and equal to the visiting foreign heads of state like the Persian First Minister and chairman of the Aryan League Teispes Sina and so it fell to him to 'entertain' the visitors after he and Emily had done finished the tiresome handshake and smile routine.

The itinerary for the visitors for the next few days until Beltane was extensive and he didn't envy Doyle even for single moment.

Doyle inclined his head, settling his glass of brandy in his lap before he spoke "About as well as it could be expected." Doyle allowed a faint smile to break out.

"They're quite enamoured with the selection available through the dial"

Atticus smiled before he drank of his wine. After he brought his glass down he nodded slightly "Understandable. I could grow several sizes in waist size quite easily if I'm not careful" he said with a thin smile.

The 'shopping dial' was amongst the most popular of his inventions…by far and to be honest, he quite appreciated being able to press a button and order anything he wanted without having to wait...even if that wait was pretty short in the first place.

The Ancient Humans had molecular synthesizers – much of Illos' core had utilised the molecular synthesizers from the Facility – but they had not considered using their technology for synthesizing food. Or if they did, they long since abandoned it.

Feasibility of food synthesizing, converting energy to matter, was more than possible with the level of technology the Ancient Humans had and with a bit thinking and assistance from Moira and Alice, he'd figured out a way to combine the principles of energy-to-matter synthesizers and magic to solve the problem of magical food creation rather than duplication which was the most that could be achieved until now

And so they did with the 'Shopping Dial', an installed device in every home in Illos and most homes in Aziza, Ame-No-Ukihashi, Avalon and Ireland, when he created Ambrosia, a factory some ten kilometres away from the city and monitored by Elves and the Seelie, that ran on a complex array of Illosian Runes that was connected to every home with a Dial via the Magicom.

The factory would transport the requested food or drink pattern through slightly modified portkeys that ran on sympathetic magic on a similar basis that his Mirror-Phones had worked on.

This way ensured that the Dials themselves weren't able to convert energy to matter. In time, once they were on Celestis, he would release such magic into the magical world after the wards were put in place to stop any of the thousands of misuses he can think of.

Doyle looked amused but didn't comment, instead deciding to sidestep his comment "A few of them have requested to meet with you personally however." He said, his expression more serious. "Including the Croatian Minister."

"The refugees?" Atticus questioned.

Whilst most of refugees have made their way into France, Avalon and elsewhere, there are a sizeable lot in Croatia and Slovenia. More so after it became clear that the Ravenites did not chase them into their territories.

Doyle shook his head.

"No, the aid we give them is more than enough and it isn't like they don't have the space to take care of their needs. Plus, I'm fairly sure that they're actually pretty happy with them given that most of them have tended to be quite skilled people."

Most of the refugees that escaped the Raven's grasp tended to be skilled.

You had to be, really, in the first place.

He let the feeling of guilt pass through him without any attempt to shield himself from it, guilt that he felt for the more vulnerable people…the few vulnerable people still alive.

Forty eight thousand six hundred and ninety eight…

That was how many had died in the last decade at the hands of the Ravenites. Many of them died with their families. All of them he could have saved. He chose not to.

And more…

More would die.

And…

Their deaths were important, he thought with a tiredness that weighed heavy.

Important in the lesson that it would impart many years from now. Important for accountability, for the dangers of blind intolerance and hatred. Important to help break all of these cultures and grant Illos the opportunity to piece them together.

In the way Illos saw fit.

Dark Lords and rhetoric were cyclical in the magical world, not a century for the past fifteen hundred years was untouched by it and it was an ever more issue for the past five hundred where heritage and power and entitlement had grown rampant.

It was callous and even more so when they acted – assassination of opposing individuals, investigators, powerful Heads and so on… – to pave the way for the Raven to become akin to an avalanche down the slopes of the Himalayas when the time had been right.

"No…Minister Subasic would want to speak about our…commitments." Doyle added, drawing Atticus back into the present.

Atticus was silent for a few moments until he spoke again. "Assurances?" he merely asked and Doyle nodded slightly.

"It wasn't hard to see that the man was, very poorly, hiding his nerves. He quite heavily drew towards the sustained activity at their borders despite the warnings we have given to the Ravenites." Doyle paused for second, his gaze falling onto his whiskey, his hand slowly motioning the drink in a circular pattern, indicative of his long train of thought.

Atticus hummed as he looked past the man, his eyes going unseeing and his mind All-Seeing. His inner gaze fell towards Croatia and Slovenia and time and timelines flashed by, watching and filing away information and details in his mind-palace.

He drew himself out again and eyes latched onto Doyle's own. "Nothing much has changed. They don't intend to strike…not until they believe we won't defend them."

"…Will we?" Doyle asked tentatively, the thought troubling him very clearly. Not the thought of defending their allies, their very first ally in the case of Slovenia – and a people that spoke up for him before he was exiled from Magical Britain – but rather at the thought of what it would lead to.

Atticus smiled at the man before he looked away towards the window, his smile faltering as he caught the glancing glare of the sun hitting the rim of the metallic shell. The Orbs never did compare to the real thing…did they?

They'd moved Illos to over the Atlantic – and hadn't once reactivated the outer shell regardless of what season it was – once the Symbols were and peace was won with the ICW. Ever since then, there was a little bit more vibrancy in Illos…as if the year long daily touch of the sun was a nurturing balm onto their skin, onto their environment.

"We will." Atticus said, his voice quiet but his words spoken with authority.

He turned to Doyle. "It wouldn't do to for us to abandon our allies to whom we have commitments with. Especially those who were amongst the very first to pass the social reforms."

Croatia, and Slovenia, passed laws in 1959 that protected all sentient magicals under the law. An act that slowly but surely was followed by the magical world as the Grand Alliance's influence grew in strength.

An act in part that emboldened purists in Europe to ally with the Ravenites to do away with the more moderate elements of their societies that might have followed suit if given the opportunity.

Whilst they were in treaty with a large number of magical nations and communities, there were still many more that were not formally under treaty outside of general trade agreements. Slovenia and Croatia were amongst the second group of magical nations and communities.

But that didn't mean they didn't have 'unofficial' commitments outside of formalised treaty. Their word and their assurances were given that they would be protected against naked aggression by belligerents which made it as good as any treaty signed since it was known internationally.

Not that he regretted it.

Even if it had inconvenienced him at any point, even if he hadn't given commitments, he'd still have come to their aid had they asked. He hadn't forgotten their support for him when most of Europe had turned against him and his family.

Nor their support for Illos when most others were fine to take the wait and see approach.

Loyalty mattered.

"Tell him I will see him tomorrow." Atticus said before he drank of his wine, Doyle dutifully nodding and after he drank, Atticus looked at Doyle, his gaze carrying a glint of curiosity. "Out of curiosity…how ready do you believe we would be if we needed to absorb their populations?"

Doyle was surprised by the question and he began to frown "Croatia and Slovenia? I'd say…" Doyle trailed off, his mind making mental calculations.

Atticus thought they'd be able to absorb them whole now if they needed to. With even the slightest of issues. Celestis City had grown over the past decade and a half.

Eighty four thousand called it home, about half of them having being born and raised here and half of the rest brought in at a young age. The city was filling out and buildings had been added to give a feel in some districts as if you were walking in a polis in ancient Greece or Rome itself.

Others…others were still a little too bare, in his opinion anyway.

Whilst more families were electing to stay in the city, there were still sizeable families in the rural hilly regions by Mount Celestis, families that were starting outpace Clan families in numbers – though not in size.

So in his estimation, he thought they could easily house the twenty-five or so thousand Croats and Slovaks. "The infrastructure is of course there." Doyle said, a brief pause in his voice before he continued

"But I'd say that it's a lot of people to absorb in one go." Doyle said a little concerned. "We've never taken in that many in one go before, Your Majesty."

His preference not to do so was as obvious as his concern was.

"We haven't. And we won't." Atticus assured the man. Not for some time anyway.

Atticus stood up and Doyle followed. "It was more of a thought than it was inquiry." A thought that he'd entertained more than a few times but never wanted to. Their peoples, between the choice of the Raven's and that of Illos, would of course always choose Illos. From what he could see, their people would easily mingle with his own.

But the political ramifications of instead choosing to absorb them instead of defending would only have a cascading effect later on. Especially if Illos' word would prove to mean nothing.

Doyle left not long afterwards and he turned to towards the wide windows in his office, his gaze peering out towards a particular spot by the Lonis Forests.

He hated this day.

He'd hated this day for many many years.

With but a merest flicker of intent, a pin sized bulb formed just left of his face, a pin sized bulb that begun to grow and grow until it was half the size of a golf ball and began to flower, its rose white petals a brilliant hue of colour and his hand rose as the peduncle grew, his hand grabbing hold of it and bringing the flower to his nose.

There were many times he could have told her where she was…where their family was. With his grandmother dying so many years ago and his cousins from the Provydetsi distancing, not by desire but merely because of how different everything is, she could have used this then more than she needed it now.

But…

He also Seen that it wouldn't have led to reconciliation as it would do now.

When her youngest granddaughter, a granddaughter who looked and was much like her own sister, would go to Hogwarts at an age she herself was cast out…

She deserved happiness and resolution and this would lead to both. He was very glad she wouldn't take too long to forgive him for it.

Atticus let go from the stem of the flower, the flower falling down towards the ground but evaporating away before it could reach it. A blue-orange hued portal formed in front of him and he stepped through it and as he arrived on the other side by a cottage surrounded by an outcrop of forests and golden reeds and a stone throw's away from a small lake, he let off a small sigh before he began walking towards his destination.

He sent an annoyed feeling through his bond with Emily and he only got a sense of schadenfreide in return. "Coward" he muttered lowly to himself. He knew that she rather glad to avoid the scolding and look of betrayal he was sure to be subjected to.

The visit to Avalon was an excuse in his very unbiased opinion.

As he approached the door, he felt the wards feeling him out and then letting him pass once they recognised him and he walked through the door after he opened it.

He heard someone get up from the living room and a young face peered out into the hallway "Uncle?" Marie asked a little confused. Marie had come along for the Beltane Festival this year after missing out on the last five in favour of staying at school or with friends. "Do we need to be somewhere?"

Atticus smiled at the young adult, his head shaking.

"No. I've come to speak to mother."

Marie's eyes widened. "Oh. She's out back with Moira." Marie said and Atticus withheld a wince, enough to give Marie a small smile.

"Thanks." Atticus said though he tilted his head as he began to walk further into the head, stopping as he stood by the entrance of the living room, his eyes catching the paused holo screen of one game or another. He turned his eyes to Marie with a raised eyebrow "You could be in the city you know." Atticus merely said with mild amusement. Marie flushed a little.

"I'm almost finished with it." Marie said a little defensively. "I've finally passed the Cthulhu level and there is only two more to go." Atticus looked at her a little judgementally and her face reddened even further and he couldn't hold it any longer, his mouth parting and a deep laugh erupted from him before he walked away.

Though…he couldn't resist. He turned over his shoulder and saw her still looking in his direction and he mouthed off 'Nerd' and the reaction got from her was enough to increase his pace a little. She had Sophia's feistiness.

His expression fell away and a serious one took hold.

He saw his mother and Moira chatting away, a small tick of annoyance flashing across his face before he forced himself to remember why he was here. His mother's…love life was none of his business, he kept telling himself.

Even if it is with a quarter of a million year old advanced human that is also my ancestor.

"Atticus" His mother said with a hint of surprise in her voice. "I wasn't expecting you." Atticus' expression broke into a half smile.

"Do I need to inform you ahead of time when I want to visit my mother?" he said to her with a lopsided smile before he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. Most of the time she alternated between Illos and MACUSA though she spent much more time in MACUSA than in Illos.

"No but your guards should be." His mother returned to him, her eyes squinting. "You did tell them, didn't you? You know they can get into a snit when you or Emily go missing." Atticus, despite himself, rolled his eyes slightly. Trust his mother to be more concerned about the hurt feelings of overbearing guards.

"They'll be fine." Atticus dismissed when he took a seat opposite his mother before he looked to Moira neutrally. "Moira."

Moira gave him a shadow of a smile as she inclined her head in greetings.

He returned his gaze to his mother, all levity fleeing his face. His mother immediately noticed and drew herself straighter, her eyes tinted with concern "Is everything alright?"

"Yes…but it won't be once I'm through explaining." Atticus said with a sigh. Atticus looked to Moira again and she understood, standing up within moments.

"I will give you two a moment." Moira said serenely before she walked back into the house, leaving Atticus and his mother alone.

"Mother…I have news." Atticus began tenderly, his voice as serious as he could get.

His mother looked at him in concern though that paled in comparison to the expression she bore when he said "It's about your sister."

-Break-

28th of April, 1971 – Hogwarts, Slytherin Common Room

Lucius Malfoy POV

The fire crackled softly as he sat by the fireplace, his fingers holding the corner of the page before he swept it across and read the next passage in the Charms book.

He looked up from his book with a fleeting glance when the doors to the Common Room opened and his acquaintances walked through.

He sighed inaudibly as he placed the bookmark in between the pages. He knew there was little chance they'd let him be. Carrow, Fenwick, Higgs, Rosier and Shafiq made their way towards him. All of them were walking a little gingerly with Fenwick clearly protecting his left arm. He felt a dark amusement at that.

"Carrow, Fenwick, Higgs, Rosier, Shafiq" Lucius said with a tilted head. He'd known them from a very early age having been tutored alongside them.

"Malfoy" Higgs grunted out as he sat down whilst Fenwick, Shafiq and Rosier offered a polite nod before he did. Amycus Carrow simply threw himself into the seat opposite Lucius like an uncouth savage as he was ought to do.

He knew that Carrow did it partially to annoy others but he'd also known the boy long enough to know that it was also an act to unbalance people.

There was a reason why Carrow was on the Hierarchy just as Lucius was even if he had trouble controlling the more…sudden impulses that came over him.

Lucius eyed Rosier with mild curiosity "How was duelling practice?"

"Gruelling." Rosier said with a grimace "Painful. Bulstrode's a slave driver."

Fenwick scoffed "That's offensive to slavers. They're kinder than he is." Fenwick said darkly before he winced and rotated his left arm slightly.

Manfred Bulstrode, a cousin to Lord Bulstrode was a two-time national duelling champion and a third-placed international duellist who taught the Duelling Class. He was also a former Slytherin and tended to, once in a while, tutor Slytherins after classes if he thought you were worth his time. Though most of that tutoring tended to be Bulstrode brutally taking apart one's duelling techniques and prowess.

"I don't care as long as I get good enough to take down that Bones chit." Shafiq said with a growl. Lucius withheld a smirk. He doubted that even if he had his final maturity and taught by the best teachers that he'd ever have an inkling of a chance to best Amelia Bones.

Only two people could and he was one of them he thought matter-of-factly.

The conversation then turned idle as they discussed the upcoming duelling competition in May, a competition that would lead them to qualify for the inter-school duelling competition that Illos would host next spring.

That, he was looking forward to. He might be hard pressed to defeat Bellatrix, at least on fair terms, but there was a little bit of luck involved in any competition.

He still expected to go through to the inter-school competition but to win that…

If he was lucky, Bellatrix would get eliminated by one of those freakish students at the Pandrosion who Bellatrix wouldn't know how to counter as well as he could.

The conversation turned towards the upcoming major event and it was then that Amycus Carrow got into a mood "My father still refused to budge on bringing me along." Amycus Carrow said with a scowl as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Despite the fact that I have been a model student for months now! I haven't even once cursed someone this whole time and I tell you there were plenty that would have deserved it" Carrow said with a dark look in his gaze, a look that Lucius had seen more than a few times on the boy's father in their youth. Of course Amycus paled in comparison to Alard Carrow but it was a reminder of the kind of stock the boy came from…if one needed a reminder at all.

Lucius calmly turned his gaze towards Shafiq who looked irritated "He's been like this all day, has he?"

"Yes." Shafiq bluntly said as he leaned back unbothered by the glare from Carrow "Even by his standards, he's been unbearable. Even a beating by Bulstrode hasn't shut him up."

Carrow glare turned scathing "You would be too if your father was invited but decided not to bring you along despite being free to do so." Shafiq's face turned cold as he met Carrow's heated gaze.

"Barely anyone from Hogwarts is going." Rosier pointed out as he intervened quick enough from the retort that they all knew was dancing Shafiq's tongue. "Even the Longbottom boy isn't going despite his father and grandfather easily being allowed to bring him along."

It seemed to be enough for Carrow as he turned his eyes towards Rosier. "True enough I suppose." Carrow said with a scowl before he turned his gaze towards Lucius. "It seems like the Blacks and Lucius will be the only ones to go to the event."

They all turned their gazes to him and the envious looks he was receiving was delicious despite how well they were trying to hide it. The Carrows and the other Houses loyal to their Queen were all invited though none of them possessed the honour his father held within the court of their King and Queen.

His father was amongst the most powerful men in the magical world, the highest ranked ambassador for the Kingdoms of Avalon and Illos, and as such, his House was far beyond their own no matter how much history they claim behind their names.

A point that was becoming weaker and weaker as competence and strength of magic was not proving be as nearly as reflective of familial history as they would prefer to believe. None of them despite their centuries older heritage could compare to him in terms of power and they all knew it too.

In any case, both Lucius and Lucia were raised with such prestige and power in mind by their father. From an early age, they had known of the duties of their House that would be on their shoulders and it was because of that, that he would rub shoulders at the Ball that would follow after the Beltane festivities with the most powerful and wealthy people in the entire magical world.

Carrow and many of the rest would only make a fool of themselves – and of the King and Queen – so naturally he was not surprised that none of them were going.

"You can watch the highlights of the Beltane festivities over the comms" Lucius drawled "It won't give you the…experience but I am sure that it'd be as if you were there yourself." Lucius said blithely, a feigned smile on his lips that would irk them.

The Beltane Festivities that would be shown would be that of the commoners, those rabble would rub shoulders with the other rabble. Not the Festivities that would be catered to the truly important people.

Carrow scowled, his eyes narrowing in annoyance but he kept his tongue before he looked away, his expression souring.

Rosier eyed him knowingly and spoke up next "I have no doubt about that" Rosier said, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice before he turned serious, his gaze pinning "Apparently this year even dignitaries from the Aryan League are meant to go to the Ball."

The way he said it, the unhidden curiosity within his words, made it clear that he wanted to know what Lucius wanted to know given that his father had orchestrated a treaty between the Kingdoms of Illos and Avalon and the Aryan League, a treaty that the Grand Alliance were rumoured to be likely to signed as well.

"Really?" Fenwick asked surprised. "Do they even celebrate Beltane?" he asked a little confused and Shafiq snorted.

"As if that even matters." Shafiq said a little derisively as he scornfully looked at Fenwick "It's a political event, not a religious one. At least mostly."

"Not that surprising really" Higgs murmured, drawing attention to himself.

"And why is that?" Lucius prodded lightly. Higgs shrugged.

"With the treaty and with the Ravenites pretty much on their doorsteps, it make sense they turn up and play nice." Higgs said and Carrow guffawed.

"Observant. I didn't think you had it in you!" Carrow exclaimed and Higgs sneered, the sound escaping his throat resembling a growl.

"Do you want to hurt?" Higgs asked darkly and Carrow flashed his arms up in a mock-innocent way.

"Peace, peace" Carrow said with a cheeky smile that didn't reach his eyes and it was enough for Higgs to back down with a grunt.

"I do read you know." Higgs said in a murmur and despite himself Lucius allowed a small smirk to form on his face. Higgs was pretty big for their age and he wasn't much of a talker, so much so that he got teased for having troll blood in his bloodline in their youth despite that not being the case. At least as far Lucius could tell. It was quite doubtless that some families had shameful…coupling with creatures.

Anyway…Higgins would get defensive when people mocked him either for his size or his intelligence – which was not completely insignificant – and even though he wasn't powerful, he was definitely one of the quickest at casting despite his large size.

"You'd think the treaty would be enough though. Why would they bother with Beltane?" Fenwick questioned with a frown adorned on his face "The Ravenites might be strong but Illos…" he trailed off though it was obvious what he meant.

"No one expected the Ravenites to conquer pretty much nearly all of Europe piecemeal by piecemeal so quickly." Rosier answered whilst tugging at the edges of his robes "It's pretty obvious that there will be conflict, sooner than later with the way the remaining Ministries in Europe are being protected by the Grand Alliance in one way or another." Rosier looked to Lucius with a knowing look on his face.

"Why forego forming closer bonds with those who you would need to protect you?" Rosier rhetorically posed to them and it was something that no one bothered to respond to. Not when it was what anyone with the slightest bit of intelligence knew that was exactly what you were meant to do.

The conversation after that had more or less petered out in importance and it was long after that he made his excuses and made his way towards the Library to return some of the books he'd finished though his mind was occupied with that of the Ravenites.

In truth, he held some sympathies for the cause of the Ravenites. Purebloods were the master race no matter how much was blathered on about equality.

His father believed so too but if Malfoys were anything, they were pragmatic. The way things were in Avalon with the countless fingers of the King and Queen touching every corner of the realm, it was a kind of sympathy that was best kept to himself. Not when he'd seen plenty of his father's memory vials in their Pensieve that he'd collected over the decades about their power.

The sheer power they had…

Lucius fought to keep the shudder down.

It was inhuman really. He could scarcely believe such pinnacle of power and he could understand why they rose to where they were. And why there would be nothing capable of dislodging them. Not even Dark Lords like the Raven and Cullaica.

House Slytherin-Sayre had his family's loyalty for as long as those two lived.

For better or worse.

Plus…it wasn't as if things were all that bad.

From what his father told him about his youth, their traditions and culture had been on the decline and in the years since the monarchs had come to power had come to power, nearly all muggle influence were removed from their world. Science never belonged to the muggles any more than the very air did so he didn't consider the writings from their kind as influence.

He returned the books and before he left, he caught her walking towards him with a bunch of books pressed between her arm and her chest. His expression softened from the blank expression that he was known for when she stopped in front of him, her books vanishing into her bag with a twirl of her wand.

"Narcissa" Lucius' voice was soft as velvet when he spoke her name and stared into her gray blue eyes. She was beautiful, a spark of divinity amongst a sea of painful dullness.

The streaks of white and black hair that hugged her beautiful face, a face without a single imperfection, a face that bore a soft aquiline nose and a delicate jawline that he wanted trace gently with the back of his finger. She was perfection made form.

She had given him leave to call her by her first name last year when he'd gotten to her know a little better outside of social functions or in the common room. A favour that he never sought to reduce in any capacity.

"May I walk you back?" Lucius offered as he extended out his arm and after a few moments, she nodded slightly before she wrapped her arm around his own.

They walked in silence for a few minutes and he wondered if she was content as he was by simply being in the other's presence. Less wondering and more hoping, he thought to himself as he glanced at her before refocusing on the path before them.

His father had not…disapproved of his intentions to pursue a match with the Black daughter. Her pedigree was outstanding and they were more than three generations removed from kinship.

Of course, it helped that House Black had made a resurgence in influence over the past decade. Orion Black's heavy investments in Avalon-native Magi-tech companies that were now sold worldwide and the ruthless calling-in of debts amongst the nobility that were exchanged for following House Black politically, were all key in all of this resurgence.

Cygnus Black, Narcissa's father, had been just as critical in rebuilding House Black as Orion had been…perhaps even more so. All of that, along with their unwavering support of the Queen, had seen them become almost as influential as they been at the turn of the century.

So marrying a Black was as good as he could achieve, at least with the present matches possible. And of course, the fact that he was already…fond of her helped, not that it would have mattered to father.

She was also quite fortunately going the Beltane Festival on Illos. Unfortunately, so were her eldest sisters who had been irritatingly a barrier to him fostering a closer…understanding with Narcissa. Though…now after Andromeda graduated, it was only one of them. The one that he truly disliked…despised even. Bellatrix.

The current leader of the Hierarchy – the hierarchy that ruled Slytherin, and Hogwarts, as tradition dictated – and an utter nutcase of a bitch to deal with.

She'd opposed his induction into the Hierarchy and if she'd been the leader then, he knew that she would have succeeding in preventing him from rising up.

This kind of…vendetta she seemed to have against him had also filtered through to his attempts with Narcissa and he had to work cleverly to engineer more than a few occasions to get Narcissa alone.

Fortunately, the nutcase would graduate this year and no longer darken the halls of Hogwarts. He looked forward to it…not only would he ascend to the leadership next year, he would also finally be able to win her over by his own merits instead of relying on the betrothal contract that his father would begin talks with Lord Black by Yule of this year.

"Are you looking forward to the Ball?" Lucius asked with a smooth tone. Narcissa glanced at him and offered him a small smile.

"I am." She said before she paused to flick an errant lock of her hair behind her ear "My family has been talking about it for weeks now. Even my sisters are excited to go." She said with a soft smile.

Lucius wanted to scoff. Bellatrix…excited to go a Ball?

Narcissa saw his expression and smiled beautifully even though the edges of her lips only slightly ticked up. It was quite obvious she knew very well about the…discourse between him and Bellatrix.

"She'll behave." Narcissa and Lucius raised one of his white blond eyebrows in response and Narcissa's amusement at his disbelief.

"She idolises the Queen." Narcissa said before she continued "Mother raised us on stories about the Queen and her rise to the top by right of blood and power." Narcissa's smile deepened and he thought it wonderful.

"Of course, she did sour somewhat on mother's stories when Andromeda pointed out it was almost alike to a witches' story."

Lucius tilted his head in mild confusion and Narcissa bit back a laugh and she explained "Orphaned girl of seemingly little importance is told she's magical and goes to a magical castle where she meets others like her. She is then marginalised because of her…" Narcissa trailed off before delicately saying "common status."

Lucius quirked his lips up in amusement. Slurs like mudblood were not to be tolerated in polite society and it was thought only the uncultured would use such improper language. Rabble was more appropriate.

"But she wins the support of her House by her merits alone despite the challenges she faces. She is hailed a prodigy not seen in centuries with only one other as their equal, the Prince of Magical Britain." Lucius could see that the tale was something that Narcissa quite obviously enamoured with this fairy tale-esque story.

"She doesn't think much of him at first and he not of her but slowly, over time, things begin to change as they became friends. She, an orphaned girl with seemingly common status and he, a dashing Prince with immense wealth, found common ground in their love for magic.

"She then learns of her true heritage as the heir of Slytherin, of her Hogwarts House no less, and begins her rise secure in knowing who she really is. Her Prince defeats the evil Grindelwald who plotted to destroy our world and she uncovers the dastardly" Narcissa's eyes sparkled playfully and Lucius chuckled softly as they descended down the stairs "plans of the Dark Lord Dumbledore who hid in plain sight causing him to flee in the dark of night, his reputation and plans scuppered. She and her Prince stand triumphantly with the cheering crowd."

"The story doesn't end there of course but you know the ending." Narcissa said with a knowing smirk. One he reciprocated. Of course he did. His father was there along the way for nearly everything. Even for the very creation of Illos itself.

"I understand" Lucius said with amusement "Bellatrix must have been wroth with Andromeda." Reducing a tale of triumph into such a…common sappy story would have triggered the unbalanced witch.

Narcissa laughed before a fond look took hold of her "Andromeda had handled her well." Narcissa lightly shook her head "It's a good thing Andromeda is more than capable of matching her."

"How is your eldest sister?" Lucius asked after a moment. Narcissa smiled.

"She's doing well. She looks like she might graduate a year early from her Law apprenticeship." Lucius was a little impressed by that. Law Masteries were no easy feat and it took five years to be qualified as law-wizard – or in Andromeda's case law-witch.

They arrived at the Slytherin Common room door and Narcissa unfurled her arm from his own, their gazes meeting. "If I may so boldly ask…will you save a dance at the Ball?" Lucius asked, his voice as smooth as he could manage.

Narcissa's smile was warm and he could warmness spread throughout every pore of his body "I will…Lucius." She said with a slight bow of the head, her fringe almost covering her eyes and he smiled genuinely at her.

"Shadows." Narcissa said and the door to the Common Room opened.

"Good night." Lucius said and she returned it before she walked into the Slytherin common room. He stayed a few minutes behind, not only to treasure the slight victory he gained but also to dissuade any rumours and soon enough, his face returned to a blank slate. "Shadows." He said and he walked into the room.

Days Later…

Lucius walked through the Gate and within less than a fraction of a moment, he arrived at Belva Hallos Port Terminal. The port was busy, busier than the times he'd been before, and he could see that the different kinds of people that were arriving not only through their appearance but through the way they walked.

That thought fell by the wayside however when Lucius felt magic crawling up his skin, the warm welcome the magic oozed dripping through his flesh and he could feel himself more at ease, more calm and even energised the longer he was in the environment.

It was a feeling that always felt unwelcome despite its intent. It was too personal, invasive. Hogwarts was similar though it was lesser and less…direct.

He turned towards the side and saw his father speaking with the guards before he came back towards him. "Come, Lucius. Our skymobile is waiting for us."

They made it to their black skymobile, the guards nodding to his father as they opened the door to the skymobile and he followed his father into the flying vehicle.

Soon enough, they were in the air and on their way towards the gleaming capital that stood looming in the distance. Lucius looked out of the window as the skymobile moved quickly through the air.

He'd been to Illos a number of times – they owned land and a Manor north from the Lonis Forests – though he couldn't really say he enjoyed it all that much.

Even if he appreciated the…architecture, he thought as his gaze watched the growing details of the jewel that was a city.

Illos and its people were…peculiar. There were perhaps more choice words he could use but it would be uncouth. These people who had the entire world at their mercy if they so desired, were driven by other things, non-material things that ruled the rest of the magical world for centuries.

Galleons meant little to them and social status even less. At least social status in the conventional way. They placed more value on what one achieved than they did any material thing they had or accumulated. Wealth through business paled in comparison to creating a masterful product or a theorem that answered questions, universal or magical.

In a way…he did respect it, he thought as he glanced at his father who was looking down at a holo-tablet. All of his life, he'd been exposed to the power and influence his father wielded, power and influence that no Malfoy before him had and could only dare to dream to obtain. Lucius Malfoy was Abraxas Malfoy's son.

All that he had, came from his father. All that he was known for was being his father's son. He looked back towards the gleaming city. Perhaps that was why he didn't enjoy Illos all that much, he mused silently and secretively to himself.

In time though…

In time, they would know him for his own merits. That…that was a promise.

It was less than ten minutes later when they landed and were escorted through the pearly gates to their temporary residence by the Main Tower and Lucius glanced around. This part of the city, districts by the Main Tower, was more built up than the rest of the city.

Was this what the rest of the city…what the rest of Illos was going to look decades from now? Immigration to Illos was still very restricted from what he knew.

They were picky, very picky and he'd heard enough from a number of scions from lesser families complaining how hard it was to buy a property in Illos, let alone getting citizenship. His family, along with those early founders of Ouroboros were dual nationals of Avalon and Illos so they didn't have that issue but he also knew that this was because they were being rewarded for their loyalty.

Though as picky as they were, he wondered if it'd remain as restricted as it was now. If Illos opened the floodgates so to speak, he was fairly thousands would move from Avalon and even Ireland within a heartbeat. Everything here was just…so much grander and even Aziza or Ame-No-Ukihashi were not even close. At least not yet.

They entered a luxurious looking building, one paved with pristine marble from top to bottom. Lucia would have liked this place, he thought dryly to himself.

Father wanted her to remain at Beauxbatons to participate in the local Beltane festivities that would be held at her school. Lucia was disappointed but she understood the importance that father placed on her shoulders.

No Malfoy had been to Beauxbatons for many generations and after his father's ascent in international politics, he'd decided it was time to take away as much power from the remnants of the ignoble stain of exile their family had suffered from. Lucia had done her part well, having befriending a number of powerful French heiresses though he wasn't happy with Lucia's continued friendship with some half Veela chit.

"I expect much from you Lucius." His father said after they got settled into their suite, a glass of wine in his hand, his gaze stern. "You know what to do."

Lucius bowed his head. "Yes father. I do." He was to familiarise himself with the people and the families that would be coming. To listen. Speak when spoken to but never more than a few words a sentence.

The Beltane Festivities and the Ball a few days later were not events. They were political chess matches and Lucius was not to play, only to watch and learn.

His father looked at him for a long few seconds before his expression softened slightly "Good." He said with a slight, barely unnoticeable tender tone. "I know you will do well, my son." He placed a hand on his shoulder "This will only be the start of your rise and just as I rose above my own father…you will rise above me"

Lucius met his father's gaze as he spoke firmly and only trusted himself to nod which garnered a faint smile from his father before he lost it and a cool expression took hold. "Get ready. We leave in two hours."

Hours Later…

Lucius' gaze sweeping across the horizon. The light of the sun had long been snuffed out though one would never know. Bright orbs, countless numbers of them in countless variety of colour, floated in the air and it was almost as if the very stars descended down on this very night.

And below those floating stars, there were thousands, tens of thousands, in that field, the noise even this high up on the secluded hill top. He had never seen so many people in one single place before. But it didn't surprise him. Not truly.

The Beltane Festival was one of the oldest and most common festival within the magical community with records claiming it was started as far back as Ancient Egypt some five thousand years ago by Egyptian Mage Priests.

Nearly all magical communities held variations of Beltane, the ritual of renewal and rebirth, with Samhain hold equally similar variations.

And with the Illosian Beltane festival rising to fame across the Magical World over the course of a decade, a festival that was a blend of the Old ways and the New, it had soon enough become the festival to be at no matter where you were from.

Much like anything else Illos, Lucius silently mused to himself.

Lucius tore his gaze away from the site before him and looked upon the crowd of people that hovered around the King and Queen. This was the first time in years that he'd seen them though he never spoken to them before.

In truth…he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Those memories he'd seen years ago were seared in his mind and no polite smiles like the smiles they wore now could make him forget that they were only human in appearance.

The fact that they looked no older than twenty five despite in their forties like his father was only cemented this in his mind. Magicals could live up to a quarter of millennium and the more powerful even more than that but he didn't think it was normal to still look so young.

He moved away from the edge and looked for his father, his gaze sweeping across all the time, his eyes putting names to faces from the pictures and descriptions he'd seen. He saw Dembe Habe, the famous Benin Archmage conversing with Credence Aurilius and the Flamels.

He turned his gaze in another direction and saw the Persian leader, Sina, conversing with the Ottoman Ambassador Cihan Aslan, the Indian Minister Singh and the Brazilian Minister Perreira. Despite it being Beltane, it seemed like the rest of the dignitaries, leaders and their families had the same thought as he did.

Subdued colourings like the warmer shade of blue his formal dress was were worn. He did see a few crowns of flowers though they were mostly on young girls.

All he looked, he saw clusters of powerful people talking, the King and Queen moving around from conversation to conversation with seemingly effortless ease. He participated in a few conversations, though he was mostly interested in something else at present.

His eyes swept across looking for a particular person and he found her amongst her sisters. All the sisters, including Bellatrix unfortunately, looked beautiful in their spring dresses but Narcissa was a Queen amongst them. Like she always was.

He caught her look and he smiled faintly, his head bowed slightly and he could see her face alight though in a subtle manner once she saw him. Bellatrix's scowl was only the icing of a cake.

Hours went by and he'd forgotten more names than he cared to remember as he participated in a few idle conversations by his father's side and alone though most of it fell away when the magic of Beltane grew stronger and stronger.

It was intoxicating. Illos already was a haven of converging magic and now…it was overwhelming. He wasn't the only one affected, he thought amusedly, his pupils dilated. He could see more than a few dignitaries sitting down with their eyes closed.

The magic was soothing, embracing and on the precipice.

"May I have this dance Heir Malfoy?" he heard the familiar voice, the voice of his greatest desires and he turned around and saw her stand in front of him, her arms behind that pretty spring dress.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed and he could see her pupils dilated as she stared at him expectantly. He bowed before her, his head dipping. "Of course, Lady Black" he said as he, with a gentle flourish, extended his hand to her.

She kept up eye contact even when her dainty hand, as fluidic as whip of water, moved to placed itself into his hand. He stood back up and slowly, smoothly moved his other hand on her waist, the gentle music that filled the night drowning out everything else out until…as he brought her closely and they began to dance, even that music fell away.

"I thought we were to dance at the Ball." Lucius commented idly as they danced slowly, the floor more or less only occupied with a scattered number of people dancing to the lively but slow music.

"We will be." Narcissa said with lightness in her voice. "You will ask me to dance then." She said in a prim voice and Lucius chuckled softly, the corners of his mouth threatened to blossom into a smile.

"How Slytherin of you." Lucius said fondly and Narcissa looked with herself. A few moments passed, the music increasing in tempo and they matched their dance to suit it. Lucius tore away his gaze from her face and looked around. He could see his father with the Blacks – Orion Black was certainly looking this way – conversing with the King and Queen though he didn't see her sisters.

"Your sisters…" Lucius trailed off before he looked down and met her gaze again. "Have they left?" Narcissa shook her head.

"No." Narcissa gained a glint in her eyes "Andromeda is speaking with Bellatrix"

So it seemed like Bellatrix did not want her to come to him. He'd send Andromeda a gift at some point, he thought to himself.

Lucius' lips twitched. "I see." He said lightly before he stepped back and took her right hand and twirled her around before drawing her closer to him. His breathing was a little heavier and he could feel the unheard beat, the rhythm beyond the music that was ensnaring his magic, all of their magic, the beat that rose and rose ever so steadily that his heart was beginning to magic.

"And your parents? Do they approve?" Lucius asked, his voice low and tender as he drew her even closer, so much so their faces were only a few inches from the other's.

Her flushed cheeks reddened "They approve" she murmured, her head dipping as she looked to their feet. That they approve…

Lucius allowed a soft smile to blossom on his face, uncaring how it appeared to anyone else. It seemed like miscalculated. He did not need next year to win her over. He placed a finger under her chin and gently raised it up. She looked nervous. She had no reason to be. "I am glad. My father approves too."

He saw happiness in her eyes and he wanted to capture it, he wanted to frame it permanently in her eyes, in her very being. She deserved no less than this state of bliss. They fell into an enchantment, the beat deepening, his magic singing, their bodies moving as if they were attached to strings guiding them through motions and steps and twists.

The world fell away and in the end, there were only two.

And he wouldn't want it any other way.