And the part that most people were waiting for! R&R and enjoy! ~F
Chapter Sixteen
The Legion's Commands
Nobu'tan listened intently to the Nathrezim that had come in response to his summoning; one whom he knew was called Mephistroth, a high ranking member of the Legion that served the demon lord Kil'jaeden personally.
The rattle of the demonic language was a familiar sound and feel to the young warlock, and he relished the chance to converse in it once again, "I have come as beckoned by the Legion, great Lord. What is the bidding of the masters for this one?" he asked, somewhat trembling with excitement. The power that flowed off the Dreadlord's body was so thick that it was almost manifesting as a fine mist around the demon's figure, and Nobu'tan was supremely impressed.
"Lord Archimonde has commanded that you are to prepare the way of the Burning Legion onto this pitiful world. It is time that we turn our attention from the land of Azeroth for a time, and replenish our forces with a few sets of victories while plans are set in motion for our ultimate goal." The demon replied.
Nobu'tan understood his orders, but the mention of Azeroth, his home, caused his head to snap up, "Azeroth…" he said breathily. Regaining his composure quickly, he bowed again, "My Lord, I will do as the Legion commands, but I have one request…"
The demon paused, interested that a mortal would request something of his demon masters, "Speak then, and we shall see…"
Knowing that he had to be careful with the vampiric demon before him, Nobu'tan took a deep breath to formulate his request properly, "Once I complete this task, and carve open the pathway to this world for the Legion, I would request that my masters make use of me once again, and return me to the world of Azeroth, and whatsoever companions will come with me, to assist in bringing the great prize of that world to its knees as well."
It started as a deep chuckle, and before long the massive bat winged demon was laughing loudly, its voice echoing around the stones, "I had thought as much from you, servant of Gul'dan. You seek to reunite with your old master and return to the magic filled world that we demons so prize over all others. Very well, your request will be granted, upon you success here only. Failure will not be tolerated in this matter, you will succeed or die, do you understand little warlock."
"Yes, Lord Mephistroth," Nobu'tan replied, "What are my instructions for creating such a gateway?" he asked, knowing that the Legion was not foolish enough to make him learn to make a portal on his own.
"As you are still so small and your power is merely beginning to take form, you will need several artifacts from this world to aid you," the demon said, waving a clawed hand through the air and conjuring illusion of several items. Nobu'tan studied each of them intently, a thick tome that glowed with arcane might, a jeweled torque, a strangely familiar looking wand that Nobu'tan couldn't place at the moment, and finally a glittering diadem crested with the form of an eagle. The symbol was extremely familiar to Nobu'tan, having seen that very item etched in stone every day in his common room: the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.
"These items are scatted across the four winds of your world," Mephistroth explained, "You will need to gather them all here, to this place, and upon a winter solstice, when the Light's power is weakest, you will cast the spells that will tear open the fabric of space and open the rift between worlds. Once Lord Archimonde sets foot on this world, you and your followers will be most handsomely rewarded."
"I understand, my Lord," Nobu'tan said again, even as the demon started to turn for the rift once more, "Do not fail us like others have in the past, Nobu'tan," Mephistroth warned, "the consequences are not the kind that can be simply avoided…"
But whatever the Dreadlord meant, Nobu'tan wasn't sure, as he disappeared into the shimmering rift moments later, and the portal closed with a whoosh of displaced air.
Nobu'tan remained where he was for a long time, pondering what the demon lord had ordered him to do, to gather in preparation for ushering in the destruction if this world. The pair of male Malfoys approached cautiously, but the young warlock didn't react as they stood on either side of him.
"Well," Lord Malfoy said, glancing around, "that was something quite… unexpected. Come," he said, beckoning for Nobu'tan to take his arm, "we must go before the Muggles get suspicious about what has occurred here this night."
Numbly, Nobu'tan took the offered arm, and with a loud cracking sound and the uncomfortable squeezing, they apparated back to Malfoy Manor.
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Draco was never one to admit when he was frightened, but this, he supposed, was to be one of the exceptions. The demon that Harry had summoned, and conversed with be the looks of what had been going on in the druidic circle, was downright terrifying. The great horned monstrosity seemed like it would just as soon kill and consume your flesh and soul rather than look at you, but Harry had not only faced it and spoken with it, but actually appeared to reverence and respect the creature.
Draco was understandably unnerved by the grit his friend had to do such a thing, but also deeply curious, as was Lucius, as to what was discussed between the Ravenclaw and the demon. When they reappeared in the great hall of the manor, therefore, Draco eagerly helped his father usher Harry to Lucius' private study, a location normally forbidden to guests, expect in situations where they did not want to be disturbed in their business for any reason.
Once inside the heavily decorated room, Lucius bolted and warded the door with everything he could think of, while Draco summoned a House Elf for tea and some food, before practically pushing the clearly lost in thought Harry into one of the wing backed chairs opposite his father's desk.
"Well, Mr. Potter, you are indeed full of surprises yet it seems," Lucius said, as the two Malfoys took their own seats, and Dobby reappeared to pour them all tea. "So, would you care to explain some of what just occurred to us, Mr. Potter?"
But Harry was still muttering to himself, just barely audible, his eyes darting like he was seeing things that neither of the others in the room could, and Draco cautiously put his hand in front of his friend's face, snapping the figures loudly to attract the Ravenclaw's attention. Harry jolted at the loud noise, looking around in surprise.
"Apologies," he said, bowing his head, "I learned quite a bit and there was much to ponder over."
"And that was what we were hoping to discuss as a group," Lucius said, not reacting to the unsophisticated reaction, but pushing for them to hold their conversation. "What did you learn?"
Harry paused a moment, before nodding to himself, as though agreeing internally to include them with his plans. "More or less the demon, a Dreadlord named Mephistroth, told me that I am needed for something great, and that I need to collect several powerful magical items back to Stonehenge as soon as possible."
Lucius sat forward, pondering, "And what items are these supposed to be?" Draco wondered aloud.
"I know what they look like, but little more, aside from the final item, but they are probably lost artifacts that will need to be hunted for and recovered." Harry explained, waving a hand and conjuring several images: a tome, a collar-like necklace, a wand, and a tiara. None of these held any significant value in Draco's mind, but his father's quick intake of breath clearly meant that some, if not all, of these items were rare or valuable, or both.
"That is a tall order that you are asked of, Mr. Potter," he said, before explaining, pointing at each item in turn, "The Grimoire of Merlin, said to be held somewhere deep in the Department of Mysteries, never to be opened or used due to the complex and overly destructive spells contained within." He said, pointing at the book.
"The torque of Morgan le Faye, a powerful jeweled necklace that was said in legend to be lost between this world and Avalon when the witch queen departed from this world just prior to the destruction of Camelot," he said, pointing to the small necklace like object.
Lucius skipped the wand, almost looking somewhat puzzled before refocusing on the tiara, "the lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, stolen by her daughter before she was killed out in Albania. The location is not known where it may yet be hidden."
"What about the wand?" Draco asked, as Lucius looked like he was finished.
"I do not know what wand that is supposed to be," Lucius said, puzzled, "but if I were to guess, I would say the Elder Wand of the legend of the three brothers, but that is also rather presumptuous, even given the other legendary items that you say this demon commanded you to retrieve."
Turning to Harry, Draco released a short breath, "Well, this won't be something easy to accomplish," he said.
"I know, but it will be worth it if we succeed," Harry replied.
Lucius was already nodded, and Draco knew that was a sign that he intended to devote what resources he could toward this goal, "I'll see what my contacts in the Ministry have to say about the Grimoire, it's a long shot, but we may be able to at least confirm that it is there before trying to make any move to retrieve it."
"Thank you," Harry said, "Once we know it's there, I will do anything needed to acquire it, although I think we can all agree that we'd rather that the Ministry remains standing after I'm finished."
"That would indeed be true," Lucius said, "and I also think we'll be hard pressed to actually get you out of Hogwarts before the winter vacation at the very soonest, due to the interference of a certain old Headmaster with some strange need to control you."
Harry huffed back, "That is true as well, I suppose."
They continued their discussion, speculating about some of the other items, but by and large Draco was left forgotten, and although he understood that this was merely because he had no relevant information to contribute, it still irked him that he was being ignored. He was Harry's friend after all, and it was he that planned out getting the boy here, not Lucius, but like always when his father wanted something, all else was pushed aside.
Soon enough, his father called an end to the discussion, "There is only so much we ought to focus on at the present time," he said, waving a hand dismissively, "We need to prepare for when my other associates arrive on the morrow, not to mention recover from this night's events. You both should go off to bed; we can talk more in the morning before our guests arrive."
"Yes Father," Draco said, standing at the same time as Harry. "Of course, Lord Malfoy," he added as they both turned to exit.
With a wave of his wand, Lucius undid all the wards and spells on his office, and the door sprang open for them. Draco knew that he did need sleep, but with all the exciting events, and the thick layer of magic that he had felt while at the stone circle, he found it very hard to feel tired at all.
Thankfully, the house elves seemed to realize this, and a mug of warm milk was waiting for him at his bedside when he finally did part from Harry and enter his own room. Smiling to himself as he got under the covers, Draco decided that it was far better that Harry had entered his life. Comparatively, everything before meeting the black haired Ravenclaw was significantly more boring.
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Lucius was true to his word. His contacts in the Ministry, one Walden Macnair primarily, held a chain of contacts to their old friend in Azkaban, Augustus Rookwood, who once worked in the Department of Mysteries itself, reported that the Grimoire did indeed exist, but getting at it would be more than difficult, as it was under heavy guard in the lowest section of the Department.
According to Rookwood, through Macnair, it would require power on the same level as the Dark Lord at the height of his rein to break through the protections to Merlin's book, and even then they'd have the entire Department breathing down their necks on the way out, as every Unspeakable would be infuriated at the theft of their most powerful, and dangerous, artifact.
But, Lucius could happily report to Potter that it did indeed exist, and was not going anywhere for a long while, so they had something to work with for the time being. Not that Lucius was terribly sure that he wanted to pass on such information to the boy at the present time, with his fellow disillusioned Death Eaters arriving to meet with the boy, as well as other reasons…
Seeing the boy so comfortable in the presence of such a clearly powerful and… even by Lucius' standards, evil being, made the Pureblood somewhat uneasy. That level of chaotic magic was not something that just anyone should be able to throw around on a whim, and it seemed like there was good reason that these artifacts were lost or hidden away. However, at the same time, he wanted to hear what Potter's argument for going through with the plan would be, so he waited with his information on hand just in case he was convinced.
They were set to meet in entrance hall of Malfoy Manor in the early afternoon, Narcissa had gone out to Diagon and Knockturn for the time, not wanting to be present for the 'old club' meeting that was taking place, but Draco had declined to join her, wanting to finally participate.
The first to arrive were the Notts, young Theodore also being included for his study of the fel arts along with Draco, although the boy's father was at a loss as to why Lucius had specifically requested the boy to attend.
Atonin Dolohov arrived next, casting suspicious gazed over the three boys before joining Nott Sr. in some idle chat as Lucius welcomed the next round of guests. Crabbe and Goyle Sr. were the next to arrive, either brooding over something, or just stupidly plodding along as their inbred brains struggled to comprehend what was going on, Lucius didn't know for certain.
Yaxley and Walden Macnair were the last to arrive, the former gazing coldly over the small gathering, while the latter greeted Lucius with a stiff nod of the head. These six, along with Lucius for seven, were the majority of the inner circle of Death Eaters that remained free of Azkaban and wanting nothing more to do with the Dark Lord.
The Carrows had not been invited, as they were desperately loyal to the madman, and would be eagerly spouting their desires for him to return to power. It was a feat that they had not joined Narcissa's sister, Bellatrix, and her family in the dementor filled prison, but one could not have everything. The other two that had not been invited were Severus Snape and Igor Karkaroff, the former being deep in Albus Dumbledore's pocket, and the latter as a known squealer and traitor. Neither could be trusted to keep their secrets safe.
"Good, we are all in attendance now," Lucius said in greeting to them all.
"Let's get on with this then," Yaxley said briskly, his cold eyes turning on Potter, soon to be followed by the rest of the assembled Death Eaters, "I want to know why I ought to even care about this footnote of a boy that just happened to slay the Dark Lord, or else I'd like to return to my manor and get on with my life…"
Murmurs cycled through the others, and while Lucius had already known that many felt the same way, uncertain and unaware of what powers the boy held, he had wanted to see how Potter handled those who were unsupportive of his claims.
Lucius was not disappointed. "A footnote, am I?" Potter started, smirking deviously. Even the other two boys had stepped back from him, and Lucius, who had also had his senses opened to the powerful magic from the ley lines that flowed through all three boys, could sense the immense amount of power that was being channeled through Potter.
"You seem to have already made up your minds regarding this little meeting, and come to the false conclusion that I am merely a waste of your time, I who was the downfall of Voldemort…" Harry continued, ignoring the hiss and flinches that swept the Death Eaters at the mention of their old master's name. The Dark Mark reacted to the smallest whisper of that name, and caused pain to them at its mention, forcing them to respect it.
"However… you all seemed to easily forget that there is other magic in this world…" Potter continued, even as the magic became palpable and noticeable by even those unawake of the ley lines beneath Malfoy Manor, "Magic far older than your old Lord, and far more powerful…"
Potter raised a single hand, and conjured demonic fire within a fraction of a second, letting the bright green flames crackle and flow between his fingers for a long moment before extinguishing them. Dark energy flared to life behind the emerald green eyes then, and with a small exertion of power, Potter called forth his servants. Having witness these demons before, neither of the other boys seemed to mind, but all the adults, including Lucius, were taken aback as the four demonic creatures appeared in a flash of magical energy.
"The powers I serve are such that any can come and partake of them, for the right price…" Potter said enticingly, allowing the fel magic to waft over and around the room, its pungent and sickly sweet aroma tantalizing to even the thickest of wizards.
"This is my offer, power in its purest form, and the chance to serve new masters, in exchange for loyalty. Not subjugation, as you had with Voldemort, but a true equality between all involved. A Pact, as it was, between Warlocks and the demons of the Burning Legion."
It was a bold, almost Gryffindor-esk move, blunt and to the point, but Lucius was impressed enough to see that it had paid off. The show of his power, along with the strength of the demons he had control over were more than enough to tempt even the strongest willed of these former Death Eaters.
The first to approach with more questions was Dolohov, "and what of the potential return of the Dark Lord, boy? What will you do that would protect us from being branded as traitors to his cause and slain?"
Potter gave the man the slightest of glances, but the withering cold in the boy's eyes made even Lucius shiver slightly under his robes. "If he were to somehow manage to return again… He will have much to answer for…" Potter said, all warmth disappearing from his face as he spoke.
That was when Lucius made the final choice in his own heart. Potter may just be well enough mad like the Dark Lord, but the demonic servant offered them much in return for their loyalty, unlike their previous master. It also stood to reason that they would have opportunity to assist in training and preparing Potter to be the equal of the Dark Lord, sharing their experiences and knowledge to make his just as great and terrible as the other, without him feeling so much superior to the rest of them.
He could see that a few, Macnair and Yaxley for a start, were seeing the same in the boy, and were subtly edging forward. Nott Sr. was already nodding along with Potter, having come to the conclusion earlier, while Crabbe and Goyle Sr. seemed to just like the idea of power, regardless of where it came.
Dolohov seemed more conservative, but in the end he agreed as well, "Well, we all know we will be punished by the Dark Lord even if we didn't outright betray him, so it really doesn't matter either way."
"Good," Potter said, slowly banishing each of his demons one by one. The horned female demon managed to blow Dolohov a kiss before vanishing, to which the older man shuddered visibly.
"Then, at Lord Malfoy's discretion, we shall meet every so often while the summer permits, and exchange information that is relevant to my cause, as well as lessons of knowledge, the Dark Arts from you all in exchange for the power of the Twisted Nether from me." Potter continued the shadows and his magic seeming to gleam off the boy like a dark halo, "and together, we shall lead this world to the perfect position for the coming of the Lords of the Burning Legion."
"How are we to accomplish this?" Nott Sr. asked, tilting his head as he listened.
"I have already been in contact with the messengers of the Legion," Potter explained, citing the trip to Stonehenge, and the objects he was to collect, and everything he had shared with Lucius and Draco concerning the matter. At first Lucius thought it might be somewhat foolish to share everything of their plans with the others, but in time he saw that, in explaining to the them, the boy was more than safe. To an outside observer, who didn't understand the power that the boy possessed, or the beings in which he associated, it seemed ludicrous. Lucius himself, if he had not seen it would not have believed it, and all British wizards universally believed nothing of the sort existed outside their world. Granted that probably was a simple lack of focusing on anything outside of the immediate lives, but that was hardly the point.
However, as Potter began issuing the other's first instructions, Lucius remembered something very important to the Dark Lord, an object that was currently in his possession, trusted to him by his old Master personally. It probably wouldn't be wise for him to hang onto such an item any longer, especially now that he was actively going against what the man had stood for. Potter… Harry… had explained thoroughly that the powers of the Nether were more widely accepting than the wizarding magic that ran in their blood. While they may be stronger than the average sorcerer or warlock that the boy had encountered who knew where, they were still nowhere near unique or special in that regard.
It was somewhat humbling to realize that the pureblood mania of his forefathers truly meant little, and for the misdirection to Dumbledore and the others in the Wizengamot he would have to keep up the front, but Lucius was slowly losing his desire to continue spitefully discriminating against those who had power to harness the Nether and the magic of the world. Granted, muggles were still free game, bur their magical children however simply needed to be removed from their harmful influence, to protect their society and their magical secrets from being exposed.
Returning to the book that the Dark Lord had given him, Lucius decided that he would simply kill two birds with one stone. Arthur Weasley was trying to pass some muggle protection act at the Ministry, last he recalled. That simply would not do, as the world needed to remember that as magical people, they were indeed superior to the mundane filth that polluted their world. Perhaps one of the man's overly many children would be 'accidentally' given an extra book for the coming year at Hogwarts.
It would be all too easy to slip the object into an unsuspecting child's hands, then simply let events play out how they may, which would discredit the foolish dolt and his attempted law for good. Either that, or he could just simply pawn the item off at Borgin and Burke's like a vast amount of his other heavily dark artifacts, to keep prying eyes at the Ministry off of him, but that would be a secondary choice at best.
Arrangements were soon made between the seven Death Eaters and three boys. Nott Sr. would come and tutor all three of them in the Dark Arts, along with other spells and charms during the remainder of the summer, and biweekly the seven of them, and two boys, would join together to practice this new magic under Harry's tutelage. The boy promised that he would see them become proficient, but Lucius wondered how easy that would be accomplished, especially with the likes of Crabbe and Goyle among them.
Then again, perhaps Lucius simply was underestimating the pair of adults based on the oafishness of their children, as the pair seemed quite cognitive when it came to explaining out several fine details of transfiguration and potions, respectively. Strange that…
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Albus was growing nervous regarding Harry Potter. Not that this was highly unusual anymore, but his unease had been building a new ever since he learned that Lucius Malfoy did indeed have the boy in his home. It was now nearly two months from the time that he had deposited the boy with his relatives, and nearly Harry's birthday. Albus had been planning on taking the boy for shopping in Diagon himself, or at the least sending Severus if he was unavailable, but now that was not even possible.
He could only assume that Lucius would be taking both his son and Harry to the wizarding marketplace any day now for the same thing. Perhaps it would be best to have people in place at Diagon on July thirty-first, just in case the aristocratic pureblood had some manner of care and took the boys out on Harry's birthday.
The door opened, and Albus turned to eagerly look at Severus, fresh from his latest attempt to gain entrance to Lucius' Manor and see Harry. "Any sign on him this time Severus?" he asked, wilting slightly as the Potions Master shook his head.
"Lucius has strongly stood against many visitors, wanting the boys to have as much time to relax and unwind without their teachers looming over them or, and I quote, 'prying into their personal lives any more than their professional positions ought to permit.'
Albus flinched slightly at the cruel barb that the blond pureblood had thrown at him. The man was hardly manipulating the boy any less than Albus had been, but at least Albus had Harry's interests at heart, and the boy's survival, as opposed to whatever scheme that Lucius had cooked up.
"It seems we have little choice but to wait for whenever Lucius takes them to Diagon for the school supplies." Albus said, "I'll have some of our people watching the alley and notify me personally when they're spotted, then we will happen by and be able to converse with Harry directly about how he is faring at Malfoy Manor."
"Would it be wise to continue pushing this matter so hard, I wonder?" Severus asked aloud, "I mean to say, won't this course of action further alienate the boy to you?"
Sighing deeply, Albus put his head in his hands, massaging his temples steadily, before speaking, "I lost the boy once, Severus. I do not care if he hates me for it, I will not allow Harry to up and disappear again like that, especially if it has even the remotest chance to be the last time that anyone sees him."
The young Professor seemed to understand the amount of pain and determination in Albus' voice, as he withheld any more protests, simply nodding before taking his leave of the Headmaster of Hogwarts. After a few moments of trying in vain to cause his headache to cease, Albus gave it up as a lost cause and pulled out quill and parchment, quickly penning a simple note to several of his contacts, before multiplying it and summoning a small flock of school owls to take the letters on their way.
He certainly hoped that he was indeed just being as paranoid as Alastor on this one, but the wrenching feeling in his gut told him that something foul was indeed afoot, and he needed to be far more diligent in preventing some terrible disaster, whether it came from Lucius, Voldemort, or another source altogether.
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Nobu'tan awoke on July the thirty-first, feeling rather refreshed and strangely different. He had physically grown, to be sure with his young body, but his magic was feeling somewhat altered as well. It was an odd sensation, but neither uncomfortable nor painful, just different.
Emerging from the bed he casually looked over himself while preparing his things for the day, as Lucius had been hinting that they would go to the wizarding market district, Diagon. Nothing seemed to be amiss, so eventually Nobu'tan just pushed aside the thoughts regarding whatever strange things had occurred with his magic and dressed.
In the end, he did this by rationalizing that he had been learning a great deal of magic lately, and the majority of it being part of the Dark Arts, and that probably had put a great deal of strain upon his magical reserves, along with using more of his fel magic than he had ever before in the majority of the previous year, in teaching the seven adults and two boys the fine arts of becoming a warlock of the Burning Legion.
It seemed to be significantly harder for adults to grasp the altered form of drawing magic to and through them from an outside source than it had for children, or else Nobu'tan had just been lucky to have need drawn to the brightest youths in the castle at the time. But it did not matter, as he had made a solemn oath that they would all succeed in becoming powerful warlocks, and in truth the beginnings of his own Shadow Council on this world, and he would see both goals done.
He had also never once breathed a word on the true goals of the Burning Legion, although he had been asked a few times, predominantly by Doloholv and Yaxley, who seemed the most distrustful of him over the rest. this was actually a good thing, as he wanted servant that could think for themselves, not enough to actually betray him however, so he may in time have to put the pair in their places to establish dominance, but for now he was just a useful child to them, and not worth their effort to try and harm while they were still learning the basics of summoning an imp.
Both Theodore and Draco had accomplished this feat, and could not call on a whim their personal, fire throwing servants. As the nature of how the warlock controlled their minion, a strict usage of fel energy and the true name of the creature, he had specifically not learned the names of their imps, not wanting to undermine his servants in their growth by stealing their own minions right out from under them.
He himself had demonic servants and to spare, as his power had grown to where imps flocked to him whenever he used the power of the Twisted Nether. These never stayed long, disappointed that they could not bond with such a powerful warlock as he, but they were nevertheless useful for added damage and chaos for as long as they remained.
Heading down from the personal rooms on the top floor of Malfoy Manor, Nobu'tan wasn't surprised to find the rest of the household up and starting their morning meal. Lord and Lady Malfoy glanced up at him as he entered the small, intimate dining room, before returning to their own meals and Lord Malfoy to his copy of the Daily Prophet. Draco on the other hand, smiled as Nobu'tan approached and sat beside him; happily taking a toast and spreading some butter and jam over it while his cup was filled with tea by a house elf.
Scoffing to himself, Lord Malfoy set aside the paper and turned to address the young warlock, "Are you ready for our visit to Diagon Alley today?" he asked.
Nobu'tan understood that the pureblood noble was refer to the potential backlash as he reentered the rest of the wizarding world, where Dumbledore would have access to approach and possible start causing problems in his life again. The orc raised human had had a wonderful time away from the manipulative old man, safe within the walls of the Malfoy's Manor house, but all good things ended, he supposed.
"I am prepared," he replied with equal solemnity, and Lucius nodded to himself, satisfied.
After he had had his fill of food, despite the small roils of anxiety in his stomach from quite likely facing Dumbledore again, Nobu'tan rose with the family, and together the four of them made their way out past the front gates of the Manor. Narcissa took hold of Draco's hand, and together the pair disappeared with a loud cracking sound of apparition. Lucius held out his arm for Nobu'tan, and sighing at the inefficiency of the system, the warlock uncomfortably took hold, wincing at the unpleasant squeezing as they traveled to the marketplace.
They appeared just inside the Alley, which was already crowded with shoppers despite the early hour. Making their way quickly through the throngs, the Malfoys led Nobu'tan to the large white building of Gringotts, where he knew the goblins would be expecting him to make another appearance soon. Nobu'tan wasn't sure exactly what it was about himself that so intrigued the goblins.
Perhaps it was the fact that he was raised so differently from the wizards they were used to dealing with, that they were shocked when one showed them the courtesies of a warrior race. But somehow that didn't quite sit right as the whole of the matter. There had to be something that Nobu'tan was missing, something clear and obvious to the goblins about him, which he was either missing or taking for granted about himself.
Entering the large building, Nobu'tan was surprised to note that there were a slight few more goblins present about the main lobby, casually hiding weapons as though they expected trouble to arise. The Malfoys, along with all the other wizards were less than oblivious, even as Lord Malfoy took the young warlock to wait in the line to meet with a teller.
It was rather amusing, for Nobu'tan, to see the haughty and rather full of himself Lucius all but ignored by the goblin teller as he demanded access to his vault, only for the teller to wave over a lesser goblin to take the man down, which insult was all but ignored by the aristocrat as typical goblin behavior. Once he had departed however, all pretenses fell as the goblin addressed Nobu'tan. "You've returned, I presume you wish to meet with Manager Badrod as soon as possible, as well as another withdrawal from your trust vault?"
"That would be correct…" Nobu'tan replied, smiling toothily at the goblin, who nodded and called for another goblin, politer this time, to escort the young warlock to his conniving bank manager. It was only a few moments before he was called inside, and sat across from the smirking goblin once more.
Nobu'tan was decidedly sick of the games that these goblins were playing with him, and decided to change the rules of the game somewhat. "So, I cannot help but notice that this is not the method which you treat others who come to the bank," Nobu'tan commented casually, figuring the upholstery of the chair upon which he sat, "Why is that, not that I am ungrateful for the courtesy, nor the respect that I've been received with, but I am curious as to what I did to merit it?"
"One would have thought that to be obvious, Mr. Potter," Badrod replied, eyes shimmering with the game that had begun, "there are so few that remember that we goblins are a proud race of warriors, and given us the respect to actually treat us as such."
"This is true, and what I had originally thought," Nobu'tan countered, "but I am starting to think it is something more than just returning simple respect, not that I intend to offend, but goblins from what I've encountered, are more complicated than that, and do not care for wizards no matter how they try to learn of the other races of this world."
It was a small bluff, but as the similarities between these goblins and those of Azeroth were so very close, Nobu'tan was willing to take the chance that the two groups were far closer than he had previously guessed.
"And what do you think our motives would actually be, then?" the manager said, leaning forward eagerly, while sharing a wide smile of sharp teeth.
Recognizing the return of his challenge, Nobu'tan mirrored the stance. "Well, it's clear that you have many questions about me, everyone does. Where I've been, and who raised me, but I think you are less interested in the who as the where, but only just. Warrior races are few and far between, and you may feel concerned that if another was on the rise and had influence to take in a wizard of fame like myself, that they may be something of a threat to you, regardless of where or how many there were."
The nail struck directly upon the head, judging from the gleam of desire in the goblin's eyes, Nobu'tan pressed on, "continued from that, you would want, personally, to be the goblin of note that made contact with this hypothetical race, and made absolutely certain that the Gringotts goblins were either stronger, or could have peace with them, perhaps even freedom from the wizard's oppression by lending assistance… Am I close?"
Sadly, Badrod was less shocked and surprised by this than eager that Nobu'tan was leveling with him openly. Smiling widely he spoke, "And if that were exactly what we at Gringotts had in mind, what would your reaction be, Mr. Potter?"
"I would be remiss," Nobu'tan replied, turning slightly and smirking, "to have the unfortunate need to inform you that the race of warriors which you seek is not remotely within access to neither help nor harm you or this bank, nor even the wizards of Britain for that matter, so your hopes are baseless."
The goblin looked less than pleased by the news, but before he could continue, Nobu'tan help up a hand, "I have been wisely advised to not disclose their identity or location at this present time, however, means are being seen to that would bring me back into contact with them. It is possible that a working agreement between us, myself and the Goblin Nation, could see to the contact of these two warrior races. And I assure you that they will indeed find a great use for and respect toward the goblins of Gringotts, aside from their close contact with humans."
"And how could we trust you alone with that kind of deal, without reassurances?" Badrod said sternly, revealing to Nobu'tan how quickly the talk could degrade into enmity between himself and the goblins if he did not act quickly.
"I will not demand any such deal to be made between us, not yet at any rate," he said quickly, to buy himself time, "but as for assurances, I will give you places of research that may lead to answers that you seek, or at least prepare your people for the tale of my whereabouts for the beginning part of my life. Seek out information regarding the Burning Legion, and then we shall have a long discussion."
The goblin watched him for a long moment, before nodding grimly, pushing across his desk a sack of gold, and gesturing that Nobu'tan was free to go.
As he left the bank with the Malfoys, Nobu'tan hoped that his little gamble had paid off. The Burning Legion, and demons in general, couldn't be completely unheard of in this world, especially if he had already found dark material that depicted the summoning of their servants. If the goblins were wise at all, they would do what he requested, which would give them the ideas necessary to accept his travel across worlds to the land of Azeroth, and the existence of such a race as the orcs of Draenor, and how they fit into the designs of the demonic lords of the Legion.
"Until our next meeting then," he muttered to himself as he followed behind Lucius and Narcissa, descending the steps of the bank and into the throngs that flooded around the wizarding marketplace. It would prove to be interesting how his interaction with these creatures may change after this day, for better or worse.
