Many thanks, and a giant hug to those who reviewed the previous chapter, I am very pleased that the story is picking up once again in positive viewings. Here's to hoping that the next goes just as swimmingly! ~F
Chapter Forty Three
The Summoning
Lucius sighed to himself, relaxing for the first time in weeks with his wife in their family library, a glass of elf-made wine in one hand as he just relaxed, and the hearth burning merrily to add a layer of warmth to the room.
This was something he had done periodically throughout the first war while fighting with the Dark Lord. Every so often, when the strains of being one of the closest in planning their strategies and targets, Lucius had just needed a break to relax his mind, and for no more than a day at a time, he would just stop everything and be at peace with his wife.
Narcissa was in a loveseat nearby, reading one of her favorites, and Lucius could already feel the stress of managing this new shadow war with Dumbledore melting away from him. Most things were already well in hand, and while the old fool was on to their schemes, he truly had little clue as to just how far along toward summoning the Legion the Order of the Black Harvest was.
"Lucius…" Narcissa said, causing the man to open his eyes and look at her.
"Yes my dear, what is it?" he asked, frowning slightly at the look of concern on her face.
"Just what is the endgame of this campaign that you've started with Mr. Potter?" she asked, pointedly glancing up from her book at him. "Does it stop at throwing down Dumbledore, or is there something that you're not telling me?"
Lucius hesitated, knowing that Narcissa probably suspected far more than she let on already. While he had kept her from most of the Order's plans and objectives for her own protection, much like while he had been a loyal Death Eater, there had been good reason there. The madness of the Dark Lord was plain for anyone to see, and he wanted his family kept safely far away from that man as possible, even if he had to serve him directly all the while.
With Nobu'tan however, things were vastly different. The boy had meant what he had said, regarding the Council of leaders for their Order. While Nobu'tan was the de facto head and made decisions on his own quite often, he never tried to overrule another's desires, only going far enough to present his opinion and allowing the council as a whole to vote on whether to proceed or not.
But in matters such as this, where it only concerned Lucius directly, the man suspected that the younger boy would be most reasonable if he informed his wife on the basics. Nothing that could betray them if the worst happened and she was taken by their enemies, but enough to satisfy her desire to know what he was getting involved with.
Sitting forward in his chair, and after another long sip of the cool wine, Lucius set aside the glass and looked as his sweet wife, the love of his life and partner in all things, as things were meant to be. "There is an objective further than Dumbledore, in fact to be honest; Dumbledore is just a roadblock to our objective, and nothing more."
Narcissa had placed a mark in her book and closed it, paying keen attention to his words, as though considering how they might impact their family. "The core of the matter is that Nobu'tan, or Harry Potter as he was named in this world, through some event that none of us know, was sent as a baby to another planet, one that was rich in magic and caused him to become so powerful in not only our magic, but other arts that are all but unknown to those of our world."
She nodded, "including summoning those beasts that even now continue to tear up our gardens…" she deadpanned. Lucius shrugged in acceptance, there was no getting around that his wife did not approve of the need for the demons guarding their manor and tromping around in the places she used to frequent quite often.
"Our goal, therefore," he continued, "is to reopen a pathway to that world, and go through to leave this place and its lesser magic, and live in that world, where our lives will be much better off." Lucius stated
"And just how much of a price does that level of magic require?" Narcissa asked, readily accepting Lucius' answer at face value. He had learned quite early into their marriage to never try to lie to her when she was like this. The results could be extremely painful, in many senses of the word.
"It does come at a great and terrible price, but one that Nobu'tan is determined to pay…" Lucius said, hesitantly wondering how much he ought to say more.
"It has to do with those creatures… doesn't it…" Narcissa said, astutely guessing the core of the matter.
"Yes," Lucius affirmed, "They are called demons, and are part of a massive group called the Burning Legion, that roams the entire universe in search of planets to… to destroy… in exchange for what he wants, Nobu'tan plans to sacrifice this world by opening a way for those demons to enter here and consume this planet…"
For her part, she took the news rather well, merely growing quiet as she considered all that Lucius had said. "And the deal he made with you and the others of this Order was that you all, and your families, could come with him to this new world, where we'd be safe from this Legion and their destruction?"
"Yes, that was my first bargain with the boy when we first discussed the plan, as insane as it sounded at the time." Lucius affirmed.
Narcissa frowned, but nodded, "I understand, I don't completely approve of such a drastic outcome, especially from such a young boy, but I understand his desire to return home at any cost… He does look so out of place and unhappy here…" she said, looking out the window, clearly thinking of the first few times that they had met the small boy.
"I promise that I will not allow anything to happen to you or Draco," Lucius said, standing and crossing over to the loveseat, taking his wife in his arms and holding her close. "My loyalty, as it always has been, is to the both of you above anything else. To escape the Dark Lord, the Ministry, everything, and go to a world where magic is still alive, and more than that, thriving, well… you've read the tales of the days of Merlin and the times that Avalon was still running wild through this planet."
She nodded, knowing exactly what Lucius was referring to. The real reason that most Pureblood families were so prejudiced against the Weasleys was driven solely by jealously. Many of these families wanted to have many more children than they did, but through years of dedicated breeding with only fellow purebloods had led to complications with many of the women. Mrs. Nott had died in childbirth, and Lucius had almost lost Narcissa just giving birth to Draco.
They just weren't willing, for the most part, to sacrifice their companions for another possible child. Those families who had a second, or even a third child were considered extremely blessed, while the Weasleys were heralded as legendary in their ability to continue their progeny, but because of their leanings toward muggles and Albus Dumbledore there wasn't much adoration to be sent to them, even though by all rights families should have been lining up to fight over the right to have their children marry into the clearly very stable gene pool that Arthur and Molly represented.
Truly, if not for their personal feud, and fighting against each other during the war inspired by the Dark Lord, Lucius would have harbored a desire to see if Draco could be betrothed to the youngest girl, who ideally would have been a prime candidate for any family, with how productive her mother had been in child bearing.
However, what had been explained by healers to them in Narcissa's case, was that the amount of magic required by a witch to keep them alive and still birth the child was simply lacking for most Purebloods, due to the heavy strain and barring even any complications. There was a small amount that they could do to help ease such things, charms and other small spells, but overall a lack of magical power was the issue.
If such a land as this Azeroth was as rich in magic as Nobu'tan had promised, it might be a place safe enough for Lucius and Narcissa to consider having another child again, which had been something that each of them had wanted since they were married.
Lucius could already see it now. While he handled the matters of the Order of the Black Harvest, he could set his wife up in some nice location, close to a strong, stable human civilization, if there was one, to raise their second child in peace, and he could visit often with careful apparition. She would be safe, and aloof of any potential hazards that their business might bring, and their family at long last would gain an additional member.
"Life for us there could be very good indeed," he said, relaxing into his desired image of a life away from all the struggles and pains of being a pureblood Lord, and needing to constantly watch his back in the Ministry and elsewhere. It would be interesting to know what peacefulness felt like.
"That would be something wonderful," Narcissa agreed, "I just wish that the price wasn't such a high one."
"We can't have everything unfortunately," Lucius admitted, looking down at his beloved, "and Nobu'tan has promised that we will not serve the Legion forever. Freedom and peace… just think of it my sweet, for us, for Draco, and whoever else might come along in the future…"
With a contented sigh, they stood there for a while longer, holding to each other's embrace, thinking of the possibilities, and allowing the world to move on for a short time without their need to supervise it. Definitely the best session of relaxation that Lucius had undertaken since starting the tradition.
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Nobu'tan, acting on the advice of the goblins, had followed up his visit with them by strolling Knockturn Alley once more, searching for the possibility of discovering these werewolves and enlisting their aid in his cause as well, but there was been no success. To be fair, the form that he had chosen of the dark robed entity of pure malice and power probably came off as far too intimidating for anything, as most figures avoided him at all costs while in that dank alleyway.
So instead he had waited some weeks for the first full moon of October, knowing that it would be far easier to locate the packs while transformed, and follow them to their places of residence after they returned to human form. From there he could approach at his leisure.
Therefore, on the eighteenth of October, he set out with a small fleet of eyes, scouring the countryside for a large enough pack of werewolves to follow. Unsurprisingly, it didn't take too long to discover a rather large one, roaming the fields and glades in their wild abandon, but Nobu'tan wasn't foolish enough to attempt to approach until the three days of full moon departed.
Nevertheless, he discovered where this massive pack was located, in a rocky set of caverns near a wide lake, rather remote and far away from most other humans. It was interesting to learn that these creatures actually sought to live like the animals they were more or less cursed to become, rather than fight the curse and try to maintain their humanity.
With the extra time afforded him by waiting, Nobu'tan was able to determine who their leader was, a large brute of a man named Fenrir Greyback, and he was a disgusting sort, who enjoyed going out and intentionally setting himself up to attack and bite other people, especially children, and turn them into more werewolves.
This displeased Nobu'tan, not so much regarding the loss of life, but the sheer audacity to think that the mind of a beast was superior to the mind of a sentient being. Greyback would have to be either slain or reigned in if Nobu'tan was to establish a rule over the pack.
It was the morning after the third night that he went in personal, heavily disguised in his dark robes with all the small trinkets that glittered with power and the fel magic that slowly wafted off his person from time to time. Most of the werewolves, now safely in human form with little risk of changing, were down in their den resting from the pains of their transformations, but some of the older ones were already up and about.
They smelled Nobu'tan's approach far before they saw him, as there was already a small group waiting for him, their stance low and hostile as the warlock drew near. It was almost amusing to Nobu'tan to watch as they attempted to reason out exactly what the smell could be, and what they ought to do about it.
"Stop there, stranger!" one commanded, and for the time being the orc-raised human would humor them, and obeyed. "Fetch Fenrir," the same one commanded another, who looked displeased for such a task, but Nobu'tan didn't care. He wanted to deal with Greyback quickly and move on to other tasks with these creatures.
Soon enough the large, hairy man appeared, reeking with the musk of unwashed body and almost snarling at the intrusion upon his time. "What do you want," he demanded.
Nobu'tan did not reply right away, but continued to study the massively built werewolf, wondering what sort of weaknesses the man had; although he could guess then number was few. "Answer me!" he raged, when he was all but ignored.
"When I am ready," Nobu'tan said, his voice masked by the gravely illusion that was copied from Gul'dan. It caused some of the other shape changers to shudder at its coarseness, scarcely masking the power within. "Yes, I think you and your pack could serve nicely," Nobu'tan said after another moment, watching the frustration in their clearly easily angered leader's face.
"I bring an opportunity, and if you will accept it, a gift…" Nobu'tan pressed on, still ignoring the original question. What he wanted would be satisfied regardless of Fenrir, and that was what he intended to imply.
Greyback snarled, but didn't leave. The warlock smiled at the greed and anger that rose in the man's eyes. He wanted to be the one in power here, but he was also desperate to know what sort of opportunity and gift this powerful stranger could be bringing him and his pack, it was plain enough to see.
"We shall hear of these things now, before I make any decision for my pack…" the man said at last, cooling his temper and trying to keep the stance of a powerful leader in place. Not that it would matter for much longer, as far as Nobu'tan as concerned.
"My masters wish to extend the opportunity for your pack to enact vengeance on those wizards that shunned you, persecute you, and kill you when and if they can. The gift is the means by which you can accomplish this feat, and make the wizarding world quake with fear at the merest mention of a werewolf…" Nobu'tan said silkily.
The result was almost instantaneous. Greyback started to look at Nobu'tan with greed, as though trying to see where such a gift was hidden on his person. No doubt with the intention of simply attacking him to try and take it for himself. Whether he was disappointed to be unable to find anything of note on the warlock, or what he was able to see or smell on Nobu'tan, he couldn't tell.
"And what is wanted in return for such a valuable promise and gift?" the werewolf asked.
Nobu'tan stepped backward, carefully conjuring the plinth that held the basin of demon blood, and held forth the bone chalice in the direction of Greyback. "Why, everything of course…" he said slowly, watching the amber eyes glow with malice and greed.
Nobu'tan knew the attack would come before the werewolf even started to move. He leapt with a roar of rage at the warlock, crossing over twenty feet in a single bound, but the quickly muttered spell and gesture was faster still, and powerful fel energy intercepted the flying werewolf, throwing Greyback backwards into the side of the cave, binding him there like a helpless cub before a storm.
"That's not any way to treat your benefactor…" Nobu'tan said chidingly, taunting the werewolf for his stupidity. The other present werewolves were clearly frightened at the use of Fel magic, something that they had never seen or experienced before, but Nobu'tan felt that they might still all attack if their leader ordered them to. Just in case then, with a small gesture, the warlock ripped open holes in the fabric of reality and called forth a squad of four Felguard, which towered over even the strongest looking shape changer, and easily appeared four times as strong.
The demons stayed close to Nobu'tan and the chalice plinth, gripping their weapons menacingly, even as the warlock continued to offer the full cup toward the nearest werewolf.
"Simply drink, and the pact will be sealed, the gift given, and you fate decided…" he said cryptically, enticingly. It was all he could do not to laugh or smirk as they stepped forward eagerly to partake of the Fel gift. Excellent warriors indeed…
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Dumbledore watched the clue-white flames of the Goblet of Fire burning uncaringly in its wooden container. The foreign schools had arrived with their students only the previous day, and the tournament announced in full. There had already been those that submitted their names for the Tournament from Hogwarts, but it was tonight, in the midst of the three days allowed for participants to enter, that the chosen of Hogwarts would be placed within the Goblet.
Alastor had stated that he knew a way to confuse the Goblet and guarantee that Nobu'tan was chosen. A slip of parchment, taken from one of the boy's old essays from years prior, was all that they needed. Albus would have preferred if they could safely submit the boy under Hogwarts, to protect one more student from whatever was going to happen during this Tournament, but Moody had said that it was far safer to befuddle the impartial judge to think there was a fourth school, and Nobu'tan as the only candidate from it, therefore guaranteed to be chosen.
"It is ready, Albus," the man said as he lowered his wand from casting at the powerful artifact. Albus stepped forward brushing past the age line that he himself had created to protect those under the age of seventeen from participating, and deposited the boy's name into the goblet, with the name of the school they had falsely created attached.
It felt underhanded and downright cruel to do this to the boy, but Albus was not allowing the boy to run amok any longer, the consequences here at Hogwarts be damned. The deed finished and their course set, Albus departed from the entrance hall, just in case anyone else appeared and started to ask unbidden questions.
They had a few more preparations to finish before the Goblet forcefully called to the boy, and summoned him to the castle, unless he went the other route and died in attempting to ignore the magical directive.
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Teg'Ramm was very pleased when he learned that Nobu'tan was staying at the human manor for a few days longer, planning to oversee the ogre magi's development in the powers of the Fel. While the chief of the ogre clan knew that their leader was extremely busy moving from place to place and gathering required allies and materials for the fulfillment of the grand design, it was still rather tiring to be left out of such tasks, and they were all starting to feel rather underappreciated for their contributions up to this point.
They were currently practicing the art of subjecting a wild demon, enslaving it to their own will, when Lord Nobu'tan's concentration faltered. Teg'Ramm and the other magi had been watching the demon as it responded to the young warlock's commands, and turned, concern etched in their faces as they saw their master bent over, clearly in pain, clutching at his chest.
Bellowing for the others to fetch the Lord and Lady of the manor, Teg'Ramm rushed to his master's side, lifting the small human in one hand. The boy's face was pale, and completely wracked in agony, and his skin was like fire on the ogre's hand.
Nobu'tan was moaning to himself, already deranged from the sudden change in his internal temperature, "…Hogwarts… Dumbledore…Goblet…"
But most of the things had no meaning for the ogre mage, and he hastened to take the young master to Lord and Lady Malfoy, who were the resident experts on humans and their biology. The pair of humans were already waiting for Teg'Ramm, having come at the calls of the other magi, and readily took the young master into the house, where none of the ogres could fit inside, and so they had to wait around outside and find out later what had happened to their master.
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Alastor wondered how many of the students were shocked when a fourth slip of parchment came out of the Goblet of Fire, declaring Harry Potter as the fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament, alongside Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory, a petite little thing from Beauxbatons called Fleur Delacour, and the Bulgarian Quidditch star Victor Krum.
Most of the students, both British and foreign had been shocked into silence as the flames shot out the parchment, and the name drew gasps from quite a few, as they were all keenly aware that Harry Potter was not at Hogwarts, nor had been for the previous year either, having been reportedly kidnapped by evil dark creatures.
Knowing that they'd crossed the point of no return, Alastor watched as Albus ran damage control, placating the students that they would get to the bottom of this, and dismissing them to go and celebrate the other three champions for their selection in the tournament.
They exchanged meaningful looks as Albus went toward the trophy room where the three in question had gathered, quickly followed by the other judges and heads of the foreign schools, probably for the sake of arguing why Potter had been admitted in absentee to the tournament, and Alastor stomped along behind them all, wanting to see if there were any that figured out the reasoning.
Alas, they were all typical Wizarding folk, completely obsessed with why Potter was admitted to the tournament, forgetting completely that the boy wasn't even present to admit himself. It was rather disturbing to the old Auror in fact, that so many would overlook such a simple problem.
Fortunately, Snape was present, and perfectly willing to play the part of the irritating voice of reason. "What I would like to know is how Potter's name came out of the Goblet in the first place, when he hasn't been inside Hogwarts castle in over a year…" the man said sourly, pointedly interrupting the other Headmaster's from ganging up on Albus against Hogwarts supposedly having two champions.
Thoroughly distracted, Albus was able to redirect the flow of the conversation, promising that if Harry showed up, his participation would not be a reflection of Hogwarts, as the boy had not been effectively enrolled in the school for the current or previous year, and therefore was unable to represent then in the challenges.
That seemed to placated the other heads of the foreign schools, but Alastor was still disgusted that they thought nothing of where the boy could possibly be right now, or the fact that if he failed to show up he would die as magic was torn from him violently, but with his added knowledge of what was truly going on, Alastor was not overwhelming concerned himself, so perhaps that aura from Albus, who felt and knew much the same, was what contributed to the rest of them overlooking the fine details.
Finally the three adult mages were all that were left in the trophy room, once the champions and the other judges were dismissed once the hints for the first task were given. "So, the deed is done, then?" Snape questioned, and Albus nodded.
"It's all in Nobu'tan's hands now, whether he accepts the summons of the Goblet or not, and arrives within a week. After that, I do not know if even he could survive the backlash that the Goblet of Fire will inflict upon those who break their oaths to it, even if he was placed into it without his knowledge or acceptance." The Headmaster reasoned.
"It was a cruel thing to do Dumbledore, and you know it…" the dour Potions Master continued accusatorily, and the old man seemed to wilt slightly under the weight of it.
"I know," he admitted, "but I stand by the needs of the many outweighing the needs of one, especially when that one is trying to effectively destroy the world."
Snape said nothing more, bowing to Albus' wishes as the three of them departed the trophy room. "How long until the boy arrives, Albus," Alastor questioned, wondering how much time they had to put the finishing touches on their preparations.
"No more than three days at the very most, unless we sorely misjudged how powerful his magic is…" Albus responded, "If I hold any true knowledge regarding the boy's moods though, we will know when he arrives. Nobu'tan likes to make a show of things, and this will be no different, regardless of how enraged at us he will undoubtedly be…"
"Then I will finish the runes tonight, rather than later on, as clearly we will need every protection for your students and guests that we can muster." Alastor concluded, before leaving Snape and Albus in the great hall, already drawing his wand and conjuring a few small arcane orbs to light his way.
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Nobu'tan felt his insides burning as though he had swallowed live coals. Even though his own screams and the panicking sounds of Lord and Lady Malfoy above him, he could hear a rhythmic pounding, much like a drum or heartbeat, pulsating the terrible sensation and downright need to travel back to Hogwarts as soon as possible.
He resisted, and was punished every moment that he refused the summons. Nobu'tan cursed Dumbledore from the depths of the Nether. Blast the old man for such a creative means to get him back under his old thumb. The agony continued for hours as he struggled, attempting in vain to think of a spell, anything that would alleviate the pain searing through his body, worse than any curse or weapon that he knew of, that was figuratively cooking him alive.
He could see the object that was summoning him. A chalice of wood, seated upon a pedestal of stone, burning angrily with blue-white flames, demanding his presence to complete its assigned task, and satisfy the magic that was involved in its creation.
True, the urge to just give in was strong, even if he went unwillingly to the school and burned it to the ground for the offense that they had done to him with this action, but Nobu'tan was thoroughly stubborn, and would not yield if he had any other choice. But that had only led to even more pain, and a furious burning that only intensified as time went on.
Finally, when he could bear it no more, he made up his mind to obey, although consequences would indeed follow once he arrived at the school for whatever madness they had thought summoning him would achieve, and instantly the pain vanished, leaving him sore and his throat raw from the endless screaming.
Narcissa Malfoy swooped on him the moment his cries ceased, and Nobu'tan would have attempted to push her off of him, but his muscles were weak from thrashing uncontrollably in his bed, therefore he allowed her to mother him like a defenseless child.
She ran her wand over his body multiple times, her frown growing steadily more pronounced with every pass. "His magic was burning in his very veins, Lucius," she reported, once complete, "it was indeed killing him, and you were right to force the potions we had into him even while he fought us."
Potions? Nobu'tan did not recall being force fed anything during the mad agony, but as he slowly, and gingerly, raised his head to peer about, there was evidence everywhere of a great and terrible struggle. Shattered vials and thrown objects everywhere, some things burned and Lucius himself sported a great bruise under his left eye. Nobu'tan's fist pulsed with a discomforting sensation that clearly told the warlock of what had occurred.
Sitting up with no small amount of assistance from Narcissa, Nobu'tan tried to gather more of his wits and figure out just what had happened. "Be careful," she warned gently, "You've been in constant motion for several hours, and are likely extremely worn out. Rest is what you need right this moment."
The thought of doing anything but getting to Hogwarts sent small threatening waves of warmth through his body, and Nobu'tan weakly tried to stand, his knees buckling only twice before he accomplished it. "I have no time for the luxury of rest, unfortunately."
"What happened?" Lucius asked, clearly sensing that the younger warlock knew.
"Dumbledore…" Nobu'tan seethed the answer, "he used some sort of magical artifact to summon me forcefully back to his blasted school, and it causes that pain whenever I refuse, or have thoughts other than going straight to his fortress. Some sort of wooden chalice I believe."
"The Goblet of Fire…" Lucius supplied, "brown wood, sits atop a stone pillar, blue-white fire…" he described, and Nobu'tan nodded.
"That was a very dangerous and nearly lethal attack on you then," the man surmised, offering his arm for Nobu'tan to walk, "You have no choice but to go, and I daresay you have less than a few days to procrastinate before it will kill you. This means that the old man succeeded in getting you selected."
"Selected for what exactly," Nobu'tan said, angry that he had to actually rely on the man far more than he wished to simply walk. Thankfully his strength was already returning to him, slowly but surely.
"The Triwizard Tournament," Lucius stated, "You recall the letter that my son sent us several weeks ago, detailing this very scenario could happen."
Nobu'tan certainly did, but at the time he had not believed it possible for the old man to succeed in such a feat, or even if he had that Nobu'tan would be able to shrug off whatever happened. "I believe we ought to trust Draco's impressions somewhat more than I clearly did."
Even though there was a plethora of things he wished to grab, including several potions that might relieve the burning pain that shot through him with every step, Nobu'tan felt as though he was compelled, forced even, to move out of the manor, where he could safely travel to Hogwarts and fulfill the prompting commands of the alleged artifact that had summoned him.
Teg'Ramm and his clan's magi were waiting worriedly outside of the manor, and crowded around as Lucius and Nobu'tan exited. The young warlock regained the ability to walk under his own power, and shrugged his way out of Lucius' firm grip, "It seems our enemy, Dumbledore, has used a powerful artifact that will force me to appear at his stronghold. Naturally I presume he thought I would go alone and immediately, but that is not going to be the case. Fetch supplies and whatever else might be needed for a battle that may or may not happen, and return quickly, I do not know how long I can delay the sensation before it cripples me again."
The two headed ogres departed, scrambling for their own items and gear, as Lucius gestured with his hands and a pair of house elves appeared carrying most of the items that Nobu'tan had hoped to collect before departing, including his full set of warlock raiment. If Dumbledore was throwing down the proverbial gauntlet with this challenge, then Nobu'tan would meet him in it, but naturally only because of his lack of choice in the matter.
The burning sensation was only just starting to return when his ogre magi returned, and Nobu'tan quickly set about opening a wide portal to the front of the darkened grounds of Hogwarts. there were no students about on the grounds so close to the evening meal, and Nobu'tan presumed that it had to be some sort of feast, as there was both a boat bobbing in the lake, as well as a massive carriage settled on the grounds, indicating foreign students or other visitors were in attendance.
More audience for him, Nobu'tan supposed as his personal guards surrounded him. He almost thought that their presence had gone unnoticed, and was disappointed that Dumbledore couldn't have witnessed such a thing as a Fel portal opening right in front of Hogwarts itself. Truly a weakness to exploit later on, he thought as the lead pair of Ogres threw their weight into the massive door to the Great Hall.
Whatever chatter the amassed people had within were silenced instantly as the four ogres appeared at the door to the Hall, with Nobu'tan at their head. But the warlock had eyes only for Dumbledore, seated between Alastor Moody and Karkaroff, the Bulgarian Headmaster looking quite pale as those whom he had secretly held at his school reappeared.
But his ire was set, and with a quick set of choice words, Nobu'tan had already launched a spell to attack the man responsible for more insult and injure to his person than any else put together. Dumbledore stood with a swiftness that betrayed the supposed age of his body and conjured a prismatic barrier of arcane energy, which absorbed the flame that would have attempted to burn straight through to his very soul.
Another spell was already on the warlock's tongue, when he felt the magic countered by a gust of arcane winds that the old man summoned. "Cease this madness!" Dumbledore bellowed, his voice magically amplified to where many of the surrounding students covered their ears in fright, many even fainting from the shock of so much so fast.
Nobu'tan sneer up at the powerful wizard, but even he started to quake a bit at the terrible sight behind the head table. This was not Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts that he was looking at any longer, but Albus Dumbledore, the defeater of Grindlewald, the only one that Voldemort feared, and champion of the downtrodden, his eyes flaring with arcane power as his presence bore down upon the five warlocks.
Nobu'tan realized that, even with his ogre magi, if he fought here and now, he would lose, even die, against the fury that Dumbledore represented. His title of Archmage, foolishly given so long ago, was thusly proven to be apt. Dumbledore had mastered the arts of the Arcane, far faster than even Nobu'tan had, and with his great knowledge and power from time, he was a match for Nobu'tan. If he challenged the man in anger, here and now, with so many innocents for the man to protect, the righteous fury alone would cause their battle to soar among those of legends, and Nobu'tan was not certain he could achieve victory.
So, he relented from his wrath and cooled the fel fire in his veins. "You had me summoned, Archmage, for some silly child's game…" he said from beneath the deep hood of his warlock's raiment.
Clearly, the announcement of what participants had been already known to all the students in the hall, as they began carefully muttering among themselves, especially those furthest away from the ogre magi and therefore the ones deemed safest.
Dumbledore beckoned for Moody and Snape to join him as they descended from the High Table and crossed the hall toward them. Teg'Ramm moved to block their path from approaching the master warlock, but Nobu'tan prevented it, knowing that if the older wizards decided to get too close, the advantage in combat returned to them with the ogre's physical prowess.
"We shall discuss this elsewhere, out of earshot of the children," Albus said, his voice like stone and his eyes still burning with indignation.
"As you wish…" Nobu'tan said softly, indicating for the Headmaster to lead the way.
"They will wait outside of the castle," he added, gesturing at the four hulking figures.
"I refuse," Nobu'tan countered, matching the iciness of the Headmaster's word "it is clear that you cannot be trusted to keep your word, so I will retain my guards anytime I must be in your presence, just to ensure that I can move about as I please, unhindered by your need to meddle in that which you do not belong…"
"I believe the fate of our world matters a great deal to any who feel that they have the ability to protect it, whether you think it's important or not." Dumbledore impressed again, "Nevertheless, you will not be dissuaded from frightening my staff and students with your unnatural servants, therefore we shall take the discussion outside entirely then."
Nobu'tan shrugged uncaringly as he followed in the midst of his four ogre magi, after the three mages.
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Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing.
At first she had merely suspected some arcane anomaly, as happened occasionally at the castle from time to rare time, but when the powerfully built monsters with two heads forced open the doors to the Great Hall, admitting a much smaller, human-shaped figure, she widened her eyes at the level of magical power that wafted off each of them.
It was the same dark magic that Draco and his friends used, but much more potent and frighteningly intense than any of the Slytherin children had managed. And then the unthinkable happened. With a roar of magic and the deafening sounds of children screaming in fright, the figure had actually outright attack the Headmaster, firing powerful flames that seemed to consume the very air they travelled through at the old man.
And yet, Professor Dumbledore had simply revealed a touch of his true magnificence in regards to the Arcane arts, batting aside the attack as though it was nothing, and bellowing in a manner that make the entire hall quake to silence.
Hermione had never seen the kindly Headmaster so angry before. He strode down, almost stomping as he moved with speed unheard of for a man of his age, with Professors Snape and Moody at his heels, to confront the mysterious figure and his hulking guards.
Only as they turned to leave as a group did Hermione catch a glimpse of the figures face beneath the deep black hood he wore, and she almost gasped aloud at the sight. She had thought that Harry had been kidnapped, but here he was, returned to them at Hogwarts in one of the worst ways imaginable.
But the glowing red eyes of a Dark Wizard were no illusion, this she knew, and with the power that he clearly wielded, it was no doubts as to what those creatures had done with her close friend. Hopefully Professor Dumbledore would sort things out and make it so that the former Ravenclaw was well protected.
If anyone could help him, Hermione trusted that the Headmaster would be able to. Although as she glanced to the far side of the hall to see if Draco had also seen who it was under the hood, she frowned as the Slytherins were all huddled together, muttering imperceptibly about something. For some reason she couldn't quite fathom, Hermione had the feeling that she was being left out of a very important secret, one that the Headmaster had not shared freely with her.
