Merry belated Christmas everyone, and naturally the site's present is that the upload system was down, so posting was absolutely impossible yesterday! Yay? Still, making sure that you get you chapter for the week as soon as I could, and so, here is the next installment of Stormreaver! ~F

Chapter Forty One

Reconsideration

Severus was only just ascending from the dungeons when he spotted the flash of magic over the forest. Arcane and Fel magic erupted in massive gouts over the trees; indiscernible to anyone who lacked the training of those magic types, but for Severus specifically he recognized the patterns of spells quite easily. How on earth Potter had gotten so close undetected he did not know, but that Albus and Moody were fighting him directly had Severus swearing up a storm as he bolted for the door out to the grounds, his robes snapping around him as he ran.

The old fools didn't even bother to get him for backup. They knew how dangerous the boy could be, and yet they still went to confront him on their own. Tree branches whipped by as Severus tore into the undergrowth of the forest, some slashing at his face as he plunged in without care of what he may discover. Icy was already forming in his wake, as he called upon his arcane power to come to his aid, ready to unleash a snowstorm once he spotted the infernal child.

The final layer of growth was charred away even as Severus approached, directly into the middle of a conflict between the three powerful spell casters. Where Potter had come from, Severus had no idea, nor what he was doing here, but he was fighting viciously, one hand channeling Fel fire while the other summoned demon after demon to launch at the pair of opponents he faced.

The two old wizards were holding their own, but only barely, as somehow Potter could sling spells at each of them simultaneously, while they had to focus their efforts to attempt to pin the elusive warlock down and strike his magical protections.

Throwing an orb of magic into the air, Severus caused massive chunks of snow and ice to rain down, creating a localized blizzard around the warlock, hoping to slow his agility and allow the others to land a hit of significance on him. Potter spared Severus only a glance of contempt before countering the spell with large gouts of demonic flames, which melted the magical ice rapidly and caused steam to pour into the air.

"It is already too late…" Nobu'tan said in a smug voice to Albus specifically, "they are already gone back to their own village, and soon enough the entire tribe will belong to the Legion."

All three wizards refused to be distracted, launching their most powerful spells at the warlock. Fire, Frost and Arcane slammed heavily into the shield that Nobu'tan threw up around him, clawing madly to reach him within it, but the warlock merely laughed as he backed away, a sweep of his hand conjuring another of his blasted portals.

Unwilling to let the boy just get away again, Severus flung another barrage of frost at him, before stealthily slipping a shard of ice right after. A wall of flames leapt up to consume the initial attack, but the crystalline shard flew true, just as the defensive magic faded, and struck home, staining the boy's robe with blood as he howled in agony.

The portal closed however, and they were unable to detect where the boy had vanished. "Albus…" Moody said hurriedly.

"I know Alastor, we must make haste to the centaur village," Albus replied, before moving swiftly deeper into the trees.

Severus hadn't a clue what they were referring to, but went with the two old wizards, just in case something else was loose in the forest and his power was needed to combat it.

Soon enough they all appeared on the edge of the centaur grounds, deep in the forest where the magical race had made their refuge, but whatever peace they had hoped to find here was clearly gone, as homes burned and deep hoof prints marred the grassy clearing.

What puzzled even Severus was that some of the hoof prints seemed to burn with Fel fire… then it hit him, and he stared up at the others with shock at the realization, "he transformed some of the centaur into demonic creatures?"

"Alas, he did, and what they have done with the rest of their tribe, I do not know." Albus affirmed, still looking swiftly for any sign of where they had gone. "I can sense something dark moving deeper into the forest, but I do not know if we ought to follow."

"If the centaur tribe was driven out of their village, then the last thing we want to do is show up unannounced. They are just as likely to attack us as any other." Severus added wisely.

"Unfortunately, I agree with Snape," Moody said, "We have to leave it to them to survive now. We at least drove off Potter, so that will help them survive a bit longer, and we'll search for them later on when they, hopefully, won't be hostile to anyone approaching."

Albus was less than pleased about the events, Severus could tell just by looking at the old man, but he had to know that they were right, as he sighed and nodded, and the three mages started back to the castle. Severus almost thought he felt a small surge of Fel magic far away somewhere, but it seemed far too distant for them to investigate, and if it was Potter, hopefully that wound he had received was enough to slow him for a while. Even with magic, a day or two at the most would be needed to heal it properly.

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Nobu'tan grunted in pain as he stumbled out of the portal at the far edge of the forest, where he was to meet his new servants, as they led their herd toward him. Curse Snape and his accuracy. The shard of ice had quickly melted, leaving the wound gaping and painful.

Snarling in pain and anger, Nobu'tan spotted a few small animals nearby, and latched onto them with Fel energy, quickly draining their life energy to heal himself. It wasn't enough to do the job properly, but it would tide him over until he returned to the safety of Malfoy Manor and could treat it fully. But he had limited options when he could already sense the centaur being driven toward him by his new servants.

Conjuring the plinths once again, the bone carved goblet hovering over it, Nobu'tan stood casually at the edge of the forest, just outside where the Centaur were allowed to go by Ministry regulation, just as the first of the herd appeared, skidding to a halt just within their allotted boundaries.

"Well, well," Nobu'tan said casually, concealing the small blood stains from his previous encounter with the wizards, "Here we are again, you cowering in fear of your wizard oppressors… and me here, offering the gift to break off your shackles…"

"And we have told you our answer!" the massive leader said again, stomping forward, bow drawn and aimed between the warlock's eyes. "Now be gone from here, or we'll attack."

Nobu'tan smirked wickedly, "I see that there is at least one obstacle I can help you overcome in this decision," he said slowly, before striking like a viper, lashing out with Fel magic and ducking to the side to avoid the arrow as it discharged. The leader cried out in agony as he was bodily lifted into the air by the Fel magic, it draining his vitality away in agonizing slowness, feeding back into Nobu'tan and healing his injury properly, as well as strengthening him from the powerful essence of the creature.

Edgran and his group of Fel Centaur appeared from the far side of the grove, leaving the forest to stand with Nobu'tan as he killed their old chieftain. "As you see, you old fool," Nobu'tan said as the leader slowly died, watching his former tribesmen, "some of your people thought differently, as will they all if they wish to survive the coming storm. Neutrality only works when there are those who honor it, and the Burning Legion is not one of them. You will join me, or die alongside the humans who oppose my masters."

Turning his attention back to the shocked and horrified herd, he raised his voice, "All those who wish to survive the coming war, come and drink, free yourselves from your fear of the humans, and become unstoppable beings of power, and join with your future leader Edgran. Afterward I will deliver you all to a new home, where you can run free and do as you please until called upon to pay in full for this gift."

There was much hesitation, until after a powerful stamp of the hoof from Edgran, several of the younger males cautiously stepped forward, crossing the boundary of the forest. Nobu'tan held aloft the chalice for the first to take, and grinned as the centaur pressed its rim to his lips. Snatching it back before the Fel magic took hold, he presented it to the next, and the next, continuing until all those who willingly would partake came forward. Most of the males, and a few of the females had done so, but the young children, the elderly, and a few other holdouts had remained.

"I will permit those too young and too old, as well as you lot who will take care of the needs of the tribe to take care of them to remain unchanged, for now," Nobu'tan said, mercifully, turning to conjure a new portal to the wide ranges of land that the Malfoy's owned, "Now come to your new homes a vast forest that is yours to dominate, aside from the wizard home that I use as my base of operations."

Edgran, too self empowered at being the new chieftain of his clan to disagree with the warlock, led his people through the vortex, and onto the private lands of House Malfoy, taking in the air of a new home, and tail lashing with the unexpected warmth of the area, further south than the castle. After the last passed through, Nobu'tan dispelled the font of Fel power, and allowed the leader one last look at his departing tribe, smirking widely as he ended the black centaur's life, and departed to assist situating his newest asset.

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Lucius watched from a window of his Manor as some Fel magic blossomed into being outside his estate, and he watched with minor curiosity as a massive, green centaur stepped into the lush forests that hid his manor from prying eyes, followed by another and another, until an entire herd of the creatures had moved in to his literal backyard. What didn't surprise him was the rearmost figure of Lord Nobu'tan appearing, gesturing to the lead Centaur and offering the horse-man some trinket or another, probably to be able to communicate over long distances with the herd, before allowing them to run free into the forest.

Turning from his study window and making his way down to the front entrance, Lucius met Nobu'tan on the latter's way inside. "So I see you've made a newer acquisition after even the Fel Veela…" he commented dryly.

Nobu'tan just looked at him, and Lucius caught a glimpse of something dried on the boy's robes. Was it blood? "There is nothing wrong with having a varied number of servants and allies, isn't there Lucius? If we are to pave the way for the Legion and then make our own way to Azeroth, then we will need all the power at our disposal that we can get. Ogres, Veela, Goblins and Centaur would make powerful tools for taming any wilderness that we encounter, would it not?"

Lucius paused. Goblins? Since when had those bankers pledged themselves to the warlock's aid?

"That reminds me, I will need to visit them again, as I ought to give some of them the gift of learning the Fel magic, so that they are prepared for when we make our advent from this world at long last…" Nobu'tan commented, "Although with the new Hogwarts year starting soon, that might prove difficult to slip in unnoticed…"

"…or would it make it easier, if you posed as just another student?" Lucius countered, and the boy warlock turned, smirking at Lucius.

"Perhaps you are right…" he admitted, pausing as he walked and looking down at the pocket of his robes. From within Nobu'tan pulled a small, fractured shard of purplish energy, seeming to glow with its own light and vibrating. "Odd, it seemed to be activating…" the warlock said.

"What is it? And what does that mean, activating?" Lucius said, stepping closer to see. The gem was rather intricate, seeming to have portions mission, but otherwise being perfectly whole.

"It is a fragment of Soul energy, crystallized for my own use… but I believe another vessel of its mother soul has awoken, and I may need to postpone the trip to Gringotts to find it."

And with that, the boy turned and walked away, heading toward his own room, leaving Lucius with many more questions and little answers to those he had had in the beginning.

Soon enough Lucius sensed the small flux of power as the boy warlock sent out his magical probes in the shape of literal eyes to scour the country for whatever item was calling to him, and Lucius knew that he wouldn't be receiving any answers for the time being. So he returned to his study, and the project he had taken up in the meantime while waiting for their move against Dumbledore and the Elder Wand.

It had begun as a mere attempt to discover who had released the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World cup weeks ago, but recently, something else had occurred that greatly disturbed the Malfoy Lord. His old mark, the one that he had received during the height of the Dark Lord's power, had burned fiercely, much as it used to when the man was angered or passionately killing. In either case this worried Lucius greatly. He would never admit it, especially not to others in the Order, but the return of the Dark Lord was something he greatly feared above all else. If the man returned to full power, Lucius wasn't sure whether the other former Death Eaters would have much of a choice whether to return to his side or not, and with them claiming Potter as their leader, that would be grounds for immediate death.

So, to preserve both himself and all that the Order of the Black Harvest hoped to build, Lucius was looking into every avenue that could possibly indicate that the man was on the move again. Unfortunately, the process was going extremely slow, even when aided by the magic of the Fel. Either the Dark Lord was far away from where they currently were, or else he was using such a low amount of magic that it wasn't registering in comparison to other sources in the area.

Nevertheless, Lucius was going to keep searching, as any sign of the Dark Lord's return was more of a warning than the man would allow them to receive, and the more time that the Black Harvest had to prepare for the madman's return the better.

The real question that Lucius had was which of the current or former Death Eaters, if any of them, was assisting the Dark Lord recover. He believed this to be the case, despite no proof, because the burning sensation from the mark was significantly weaker than he remembered, and that implied that the Dark Lord's power was not at the level it used to be.

From what he knew about the Dark Lord, this would not be acceptable, which would indicate that he was in a state of recovery, probably from whatever occurred nearly fourteen years previously when he attacked the Potter household that Halloween night.

It wasn't much of a deduction, but then again there weren't many leads, but Lucius did not intend to give up so easily. He would find the proof he needed, and together the Order of the Black Harvest would decide on how to deal with the return of the Dark Lord, if that unfortunate event was the case.

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Sirius would never have believed that he would be returning to his family's home, but after escaping Azkaban prison a great number of impossible things had occurred, so at this point it did not faze him any longer. He still could have done without the three hours of screaming that his mother's portrait had gone through upon seeing him.

Apparently, through some unfathomable loophole of wills, the head of the family had ignored Walburga's demands to excise Sirius from his inheritance, which had left him as the sole person to gain all the Black family wealth, with the disappearance of his younger brother and the deaths of his parents.

Still, for a place to hide out where no one would look for him aside from those who knew he was here, there couldn't be a better place. The Ministry couldn't come calling, and the ward deterred any other unexpected visitors, courtesy of the rather paranoid generation previous to Sirius, who had enjoyed their privacy as much as their dark artifacts.

That was the first objective that Sirius had upon being more or less force to claim the house as his own, making it livable for the Order of the Phoenix to hold meetings in, as well as the four mages to practice their arts in the hopes of preparing the way to stop the Burning Legion from rampaging over their world.

Sirius was still having a hard enough time coming to terms with Harry, the little boy he had played with and changed the diaper of, being some powerful Dark Arts user, but it was slowly settling into perspective as reality, despite every fiber of his being screaming that it ought not to be so.

All these combined to put Sirius in quite a sour mood, even as he was cleaning and throwing out as much of his parents old things as possible, despite the actions of the family house elf, Kreacher, and the vile things constant attempts to protect the family valuables, or as Sirius considered them, useless trinkets.

So frustrated Sirius became over the madness of the elf that at one point he had to bodily throw the little beast from the room he was in, bellowing at him to take the treasures that the elf so valued and place it with the masters he loved so much, as only the dead would still care about such worthless junk.

Not a short time after that, Sirius lost heart at the battle against the house for a time, and wandered back down to the kitchen, which was the only section of sanity in the entire house at the time.

Mercifully, Albus had made sure that food was readily available from the Hogwart's kitchens for Sirius, so he didn't have to rely on Kreacher for food as well as the little imp's perverse sense of 'cleaning.'

Looking at a small pinup of a muggle calendar, Sirius sighed in relief. Today was the day someone was to come and visit with him. Of the three options, Sirius hoped that it was Albus, as he always enjoyed when the grandfatherly old man would come and fill him in on what was going on outside of this awful house.

Granted, the elderly Headmaster was usually very busy, and had come recently, which probably ruled out a second appearance for some time yet. Sirius still held out hope that at least Moody would come, some high spirited dueling intermixed with blasting the dark creatures from this house would do him a world of good as well, but once the appointed person arrived, and walked calmly and purposefully through the hall upstairs from the kitchen, Sirius knew that it was not to be the case.

Snape glided through the entry to the kitchen, looking for all the world like an overlarge bat, but Sirius forced himself not to comment. He technically owed the man for finally filling him in on all that had been going on, which had prompted Albus to include him more thoroughly in their secret workings to stop this demonic Legion, and while Sirius and Snape were still at odds half the time, they tried to maintain a rather strained neutrality when in the company of the others.

"Albus and Alastor were both busy I presume?" Sirius said, therefore, knowing that the other man usually had a plethora of other things he had to be doing as well, and had these tasks forced upon him more often than he liked.

"What the two of them get up to is none of our concern at the moment Black," Snape sneered back, although it was lighter than usual, as though the man recognized the intent to which Sirius had spoken of, and in his own way appreciated the concern, however small.

"Well, I guess we'll have to make the best of each other's company for the time being then," Sirius said, standing and stretching. "Shall we take out some of our age old aggression upon each other, or the pests of this house instead?"

There was the tiniest quiver of a smile on the Potions Master's face, almost amused by the bluntness of the remark, but otherwise he remained impassive, "I am here to give you better control over your power in the Arcane, clean this dreadful domicile or Merlin help us, repair your mind and teach you advanced Occlumency…"

"Pass on the third," Sirius said immediately, neither wanting the man near his thoughts nor wanting to listen to the bile that would come forth afterward. From the Slytherin smirk Sirius knew that Snape had had no intentions of doing that regardless of what Sirius had said, but that was fine.

"And as I've already been cleaning for the last several hours," Sirius ignored the unimpressed look that Snape gave him at that statement, "I think we'd both prefer the duel, get a bit of the animosity out of our systems as it were…"

Snape nodded, still unmoving from the doorway of the kitchen, "Is there another location that it tolerable enough for human habitation, or will we be practicing in here?"

"Yes, the second dueling room was cleaned out when I first arrived with Moody, so we can use that room to deal with your issues…" Sirius deadpanned back, watching with mirth as Snape registered that there were two dueling rooms in this house.

Chuckling, Sirius walked past Snape to lead the way, almost creeping past the portrait of his mother, behind it vile, moth-eaten, curtains, and up to the third of the five or so floors of Grimmauld Place. Expansion Charms being what they were, it was no real surprise that the house was significantly larger than what was portrayed outside.

The smaller dueling room, still the size of a standard ballroom, and usually doubling for such a location back in the heyday of his parents, contained several items that Moody had brought with him, dummies primarily, that were reinforced to stand up to the power of Arcane spells, as well as some other items that were for precision work and aiming that Sirius had yet to focus on, still trying to completely wrap his head around the lack of a wand when he cast.

By no means was he a slough at this, of course, he was doing just fine in his progression, the lack of the implement was still disconcerting whenever he focused the magic however, like being partially naked.

Looking over at Snape, who's fingers were already starting to frost over in his preparations for hurling ice magic, Sirius could tell that the man was completely comfortable with the concept, and that he ought to learn to adapt far quicker than he currently was if he was to catch up to the other wizards in their studies of this new magic.

To open up therefore, Sirius conjured a ball of flame, and tossed it lightly from hand to hand to get comfortable with the magic, also hoping to lightly wear on Snape's patience, which ought to have already been at the breaking point just by being in Sirius' family home.

"Will you stop playing, Black, and get a move on, some of us have things to…" Snape started, but at that moment was when Sirius struck, hurling the fireball at the man with all his might, before recoiled and conjuring another pair to follow the first.

To his credit, Snape had fast reflexes, ducking out of the way of the first and snapping up a shield of frozen air to absorb the others. Bolts of frost and some shards of ice were returned in quick succession, and Sirius leapt and dodged, making sure to avoid the more razor-like ice shards than the other, less painful looking, frost missiles.

Wanting to show off a bit, Sirius started to use and modify some of the new skills that Moody had taught him during their last bout. Channeling fire magic through his boots, Sirius rocketed into the air, throwing small burst of sparks and flame at Snape as he dodged and weaved through the air, making a huge target of himself no doubt, but increasing his mobility.

Being in the air was nostalgic for Sirius, reminding him of the good days when he would fly with James for Gryffindor, and that happy thought was what gave him the edge with such a strange technique, well that and his still rather light frame from so many years of malnourishment.

Snape started weaving his magic about, trying to arc and curve the ice bolts to turn and intercept Sirius as he moved, but with well controlled bursts of flames, Sirius started to fly circles around the sallow Slytherin, occasionally returning fire but more or less sticking to pure avoidance.

Sirius smirked as they continued to battle. In a sense, it was like reliving their old school rivalry, but instead of pure animosity, there was a feeling of something more productive at work, and surprisingly it brightened Sirius dark mood that he had been trapped in for the last several weeks.

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Nobu'tan was pleased at how quickly he was able to discover the location of the soul fragment that had awakened. Opening a portal to the dilapidated shack of a house that protected the item, Nobu'tan calmly walked through the high weeds toward the door of the shack, with a skeletal serpent nailed to the wooden partition.

The reek of dark wizard magic was palpable on the building, and there was a distant itch for Nobu'tan to simply leave and take care of anything else that was more important than this, but that sensation only increased his interest in procuring the soul fragment.

The outermost wards were the most weakened due to the passage of time, and the barest touches of the Fel granted the warlock access to approach the door without issue, the charm of repelling in his mind fading as he approached the skeletal snake.

Knowing that there'd be less hassle for him if he did so, and the likelihood of anyone catching up to him even if they sensed it, Nobu'tan reached into the Nether and beckoned Khiighun the Felhunter to join him, setting the demonic hound to feast upon the corrupt magic, which it did so with gleeful chortles of whatever garbled noises it considered language.

Apparently there was some sort of password affixed to the door, tied in part to the remnants of the snake fastened to it, but the Felhunter simply absorbed and devoured the magic altogether, rendering the door trap completely inert, and allowing Nobu'tan to enter the shack.

Dust and filth covered almost every surface, as though it had not been used in many decades of time, and while Nobu'tan sensed that that was indeed the truth, there was an extra layer of something that was keeping things in this appearance. An illusion perhaps, or perhaps something more…?

Not willing to be bothered with actually breaking the enchantments himself, Nobu'tan indicated for the Felhunter, and it happily went about feasting on all the magical traps that it could find, soon revealing the dangers that the room had attempted to hide from view.

Many of the wooden floorboards had been removed, revealing deep holes with dangerous looking thorns and other sharp impaling tools at the bottom, just waiting for foolish people to walk in unsuspectingly. At the far end of the shack, inside the lone fireplace that was imbedded into the wall, was yet another layer of wards, strong and more complicated than the others around the building proper. Picking his way carefully around the physical traps, Nobu'tan studied the spell work of the wards, even as Khiighun started to pull at them with his feelers. Reaching forward with one hand, Nobu'tan traced the patterns of magic with a touch of the Fel, softening the other magic with the pure corrosive effects that the power of the Legion provided, and making it more palatable to the demon at his side.

Once that last barrier was gone, his prize remained, settled in a small pile of ashes. It was a simple band of metal, with a small stone set within it, curiously etched with markings of the Deathly Hallows upon it. The soul fragment was set into the metal band, along with a powerful curse upon anyone who attempted to wear the ring, which was most amusing to Nobu'tan. Tracing the outer edge of the band with his fingers, he set to work drawing the soul out and away, relishing the painful moans that emanated from the object.

The metal grew molten after a time, and catching the stone as it fell from its setting, Nobu'tan allowed the band to levitate in the air as it melted away, the soul fragment remaining in a carefully crafted ball of energy. Placing the tiny stone in a pocket, Nobu'tan withdrew the shard that held the rest of the familiar spirit, and pulled the new fragment toward it.

They joined, after much force was applied and some spells of containment used to prevent it from whisking away to who knew where, and now the shard seemed to be nearing completion, but still lacked some pieces to it. not fully understanding the completeness of the mystery that it represented, Nobu'tan quickly departed, knowing that he had other things to be planning for, such as his infiltration of Diagon Alley while the school children were about getting their things, and he lacked the time to stand here in the ruins of a trapped cottage and muse over the mystery of an old foe's soul, and how it came to be scattered like the four winds.

Opening a portal back to his place of abode, Nobu'tan smirked as he departed, taking no notice of the small rat that watched from the corner of the shadows.

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The Dark Lord Voldemort was beyond furious. He had first sensed the flare of dark magic, quite unlike anything he had encountered before, merely a stone's throw from his hiding place in the village of Little Hangleton, specifically at the old cottage of his ancestors. It was also the location of something vitally important to him, so he had sent Pettigrew to investigate, but ordered him to remain hidden.

Useless though he was in most things, Pettigrew was required to keep Voldemort as strong as possible until his plan came to fruition and Harry Potter was brought to him. The news therefore, that some unknown figure in dark robes had found his prize, not that the rat had known what the item that the figure had destroyed was, more than worried the Dark Lord. If someone was hunting his anchors before he was even ready to retake a permanent physical form, than he could be in grave peril.

This body would keep him alive even in the event he lost them all, it was true, but the form was weak and could be easily destroyed if he was discovered. They had to hasten their plan at all costs to make sure that Potter was there when the ritual was to be completed, and his full body restored to its former glory.

His immediate desire would be to investigate his other defenses around Britain, but he could not trust that sort of information to Pettigrew, so it would have to wait until he was fully reformed. This did not sit well with the Dark Lord, but there was nothing that could be done about it.

Needless to say, Pettigrew felt the effects of the Dark Lord's rage for several long minutes before allowed to resume his normal cognitive functions.

Still, in an effort to be proactive, Voldemort chose to send Pettigrew to check everything that had been prepared for the ritual again, even though the man claimed that it was all safely protected from prying eyes, but one could never be too sure of everything, especially when strange wizards have been snooping around.

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Albus was overseeing the last of the preparations for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or rather the last of the preparations that could occur before the students arrived and be kept hidden from them until the right time. Pens had been build just inside the forest for one of the tasks, as well as both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons confirming their allotted numbers of students that they were bringing, their names, ages and other information.

What continued to worry the Hogwarts Headmaster throughout all of this however, was the same sickening feeling of whether he ought to follow through with his plan to force Nobu'tan to return to Hogwarts with this event. The binding magic of the Goblet would indeed force the boy to return and compete, or it would remove his magic, or kill him, none had been foolish enough to allow such an outcome to happen.

The problem was the potential damage that the boy could, and likely would, lay about the castle when he did arrive, and how best Albus would have to work to counter such a threat in the face of so many witnesses, both in the Ministry and from foreign schools. Was it worth sacrificing all of his political power to make sure that this boy was completely distracted from his nefarious goals, and still having the issue of the boy being underfoot and keeping certain unanswerable questions from arising.

Albus could already foresee that if he pursued this course of action, war might indeed come to Hogwarts over it, and was it truly fair of him to put so many student's live at risk just for the chance to stop their entire world from falling to ruin?

In the end, Albus backed away from such a course, he could not bring himself to willfully cause such destruction to occur while he was Headmaster. After considering all variables, he wasn't sure he could contain the boy if it went out of control, which given the boy's temperament when other attempted to control him, it would most assuredly happen.

Alastor might call him a fool for backing down, but the old Auror didn't have the duty to think of the safety of over a hundred children day in and day out, and that took priority over anything. They would have to quickly find another means to stop the Legion before Nobu'tan could do the unthinkable and summon the demonic horde to their world.

Albus was removed from his musings and worrying when Bartemius Crouch approached him, the Ministry man looking as brisk and no nonsense as ever as he spoke, "Well Albus, I believe everything in is order for the school year to begin in a few weeks. I wonder, have you had any knowledge of the whereabouts of young Mr. Potter? The Auror office has been abuzz with the rumors of him missing and other things, but by and large I get the feeling that something is being kept under wraps, and… you know, no one keeps a secret better than you…"

Albus recognized the barb in the words, but chose to ignore it. In his long experience it was the best way to defuse a person that sought to injure as well as communicate, "Well, many rumors are simply that, but I can assure you that some of those regarding young harry are true, the good, and some of the bad…"

"A pity, that the Ministry is having so much difficulty in locating the boy or his kidnappers, I had looked forward to possibly meeting him during this event, and expressing my condolences in person." Bartemius stated flatly, and Albus could tell that the man didn't mean a single word. More likely the man was working closely with Cornelius, and trying to funnel information of the boy's whereabouts from Albus, thinking that the entire situation was false, which was exactly why the Aurors were having 'difficulty' locating him. It certainly was hard to find something that you are prevented from actually looking for at every turn.

Albus leveled that bit of subterfuge at Lucius Malfoy's feet, knowing that the pureblood Lord was more or less involved with sequestering the boy out of Albus' sight, but nevertheless he was not about to give away his knowledge of the matter here to someone who would not believe it for a heartbeat, but merely use it for his own personal gain.

"Ah Bartemius you haven't changed a bit…" Albus said with a sigh, noticing the small tick in the man's eye, and acting completely oblivious of the man's dislike of memories regarding the past.

The failed attempt to become Minister after the first war was still something raw for him then, naturally so after losing his entire family and career in a single blow. Sirius would have had plenty of words for the man, but Albus was not about to repeat any of them in polite company, even if it was just Bartemius.

"Well, I'll be off Albus, we shall return in October when the Tournament begins officially, good day…"

"Good day to you as well, Bartemius," Albus said cheerfully, keeping the idle front going until the man was out of sight. Refraining from rolling his eyes sardonically, Albus turned and departed, returning to his office and the plethora of paperwork and other things that he had to address before September the first arrived.

Alastor was just stepping out of his fireplace when Albus arrived. "Finally got rid of the Ministry leeches I see Albus?" he said, smirking at his own humor.

"Bartemius just left, after finally deciding that we've done all we can before September first," Albus clarified, not willing to vocally agree with his friend, as it would be unfair to how hard Barty was trying to make things run as smoothly as possible.

"Crouch?" Alastor asked with a note of derision, "That man has been running the Aurors ragged with preparations for his events, and look how they turn out… the World Cup fiasco, Bertha Jorkins disappearing, and not so much as an investigation regarding the whereabouts of Pettigrew, despite him escaping months ago…"

Albus frowned, still not over his displeasure with Cornelius regarding that event. It was growing far more apparent at how ineffectual their government was becoming, even if they themselves were constantly willing to pat themselves on the back and believe that they were doing all the good in the world for their people.

"I'm starting to wonder if putting Nobu'tan's name in the Goblet of Fire is a wise decision, with how destructive he could become one he arrived at Hogwarts…" Albus confided, hoping that Alastor might have an opinion rather than scoffing at Albus' lack of commitment.

"It's true; the boy could end up potentially destroying quite a bit of the castle in his fit regarding that sort of turn of events." Alastor agreed, nodding, which caught Albus off guard from what he had expected.

"But still," Alastor continued, "I don't feel right just leaving the boy be, what with him plotting the literal end of the world. Rather him here and right ticked off at us rather than out there, safely behind wards while he summons demons hell bent on annihilating our entire planet from the sky."

"And the safety of the students?" Albus interjected, voicing his greatest concern.

"Have you not noticed…?" Alastor countered, "The boy has done absolutely nothing to harm innocent bystanders. I mean, sure he's attacked those that confronted him and whatnot, standard teenage loss of temper happens, but he's never, not in all the time he been among us, gone out of his way to harm those undeserving of his wrath… I think the children will be perfectly safe."

Albus paused, recognizing the wisdom in his friend's words. Nobu'tan had indeed been fair and just with his actions, even if they were evilly motivated. The Legion would not be so merciful to the innocent, whereas Nobu'tan would seek only the guilty parties regarding his supposed mistreatment.

"Alright Alastor, you win. We will go forward with the plan as we originally agreed." Albus said at last, convinced that there was at least a strong chance that they might make it through this course of action with only minor injury, but no loss of student life.