Wow, I can't believe were finally on the chapters in my second rough draft document... yes the first one grew so large that i had to open a new one and continue. More impressively I haven't had to fight off assasins from my readers these last two weeks, just the normal ones from other sources, which was a relief.

As a point of interst, for those of you inclined to review or leave a brief note, tell me something you want to see happen somewhere along the lines of the WoW timeline with our characters, anything fron Vanilla to Legion... i may only be fishing for ideas here, but there is simply so much that's coverable and while i have my plans, there are quite a number of characters that nearly anything is possible. meanwhile, enjoy the current chapter! ~F

Chapter Forty Six

Grand Designs

Alastor decided to be present in Albus office after the First Task while the Unspeakable concluded his survey of the 'strange anomalies of magic,' as they had been calling the increase usage of Fel and Arcane magic around Hogwarts.

It was almost amusing to watch them wander the halls of the castle from time to time getting a full view of all the magic that occurred, and with the grand finally of what Potter decided to display to kill, not simply evade and avoid, his dragon.

Most of the judges, Albus included, hadn't had a clue how to score such a performance, as by all rights it had fulfilled the requirements of the task. They simply hadn't expected the boy to be powerful enough to harm, let alone kill, a dragon. In the end they gave the boy scores to put him in the middle of the running, but the young warlock had already left, not caring a whit about the competitive side of the tasks.

Not that Alastor could blame him, even if he didn't like the child there was a sense of unfairness in forcing the boy to compete without his say so, and he would have fought against such a move if not for the threat of the Legion should the boy be allowed to wander free for so long unobserved.

"Headmaster," the Unspeakable, Broderick Bode, stated, just after putting the finishing touches on a roll of parchment, clearly his report for the Ministry, "is it my opinion that there is a great deal more going on at this school than you, or any of the others involved with these happenings are letting on."

The scroll sealed itself and the grey-clad wizard stuffed it into his sleeve for safekeeping, "I believe that this power that you call the 'Arcane,' to be benign, neither good or evil, light nor dark. It is magic in its purest form, and that you along with so many of your students can wield it is impressive. The Ministry will want to learn these techniques as soon as possible to instruct others in its art, for the betterment of all wizard-kind."

Albus nodded appreciatively, but Alastor knew that the Headmaster wanted to do nothing of the sort, not to keep such power from others, but to prevent its misuse by those who would abuse the might of the Arcane for their own ends.

"This other energy, the 'Fel,' on the other hand," Bode continued, growing grave, "it is irrevocably Dark in nature, and I would daresay that its qualifications would land it squarely in the blackest of any magic that I have ever encountered. That… exhibition that young Mr. Potter displayed was wholly sickening and unnatural at best, and those fiendish creatures have no good will toward anything but those that command them."

The red robed Aurors twitched slightly as Bode continued, "It is my advisement that the Ministry immediately take Mr. Potter and his compatriots into custody, for study and imprisonment for practicing such a black art, and for the safety of all others that may come into contact with him."

Alastor snorted loudly, causing everyone in the room to look at him, "Go ahead and try to arrest him," the scarred Auror stated, shrugging as he paced around the Albus' side of the room, "Aurors already came to apprehend him for his brutish bodyguards if you recall, they are mostly dead now…"

The Unspeakable nodded, but spoke again, "That was before, now we are involved, and will see this thing done, for the safety of our world. You yourselves admit that this boy is a great danger, even if you refuse to speak it to us. Otherwise why is he permitted on the grounds but not within the castle? There is something going on that is of a greater matter yet, and we must discover it."

"You must do what you think is best," Albus said, turning back to his desk of paperwork regarding the Tournament, primarily complaints at the death of the Hungarian Horntail that had been brought at great cost for the First Task.

"That we must indeed," Bode said, turning to leave with his Aurors. Alastor waited until they had departed through the Floo to speak again.

"You think the Unspeakables have a chance to stop him now?" he asked, and Albus simply sighed in frustration.

"They are more than willing to try, but I don't think it will do much more than slow Nobu'tan down in the long run. Only those with the Arcane or even the Fel can stand up to him and his minions. But it may buy us some much needed time."

"That, or the collateral damage will shake the foundation of our world, and who knows what will happen then…" Alastor countered, "We have the boy here, why can't we do anything?"

"I am working on methods of limiting his powers," Albus declared, something that Alastor did already know, "It just takes time, and attuning it to Fel magic when we have none on our side that wield that magic is difficult."

"Why not just use an inhibitor on all magic?" Alastor suggested, but Albus was already shaking his head. "That only works when the power for magic comes from the individual themselves, whereas the Arcane and the Fel are channeled from without. It's finding that connection to whatever source the Fel is and blocking it that is taking so long to implement."

Alastor grumbled something unintelligible to himself, and turned to leave, "I'll keep watch when the Ministry fools try to make their move, and report what happens." He said as he departed.

"I just hope there are fewer deaths this time than the last…" Albus replied, not moving from behind his desk.

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Hermione was thoroughly disgusted with the display that she had seen at the First Task. Dragons were dangerous beasts, to be sure, but the method of which Harry used to torment and kill his, as opposed to just navigating around it like the other Champions had, had just been cruel.

There was also the fact that the boy had almost solely relied on the dark styled magic of the Slytherins rather than the Arcane, which was concerning in and of itself, but regarding that as well as his constant companions of the massive two-headed trolls, she had no answers, nor had she opportunity to ask such delicate questions of the boy yet.

Although at the moment she was not sure whether she wanted to go and ask him anything every again, with the dark path that the boy seemed to be following… But then again, was he really following it because he wanted to, or because he was forced to? It was all so confusing, and Hermione often over the next week of classes found herself glancing out into the grounds from the high castle windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the boy out and about his massive tent. It was started to get colder, and she wondered if someone had thought to bring him warm things to wear or cast charms around his area to protect the tent from the elements.

That was when the plan formulated in her mind, and with a quick trip to the kitchens, upon recommendation from the Weasley Twins she had all the items she could possibly need to justify her visit, Hermione was off across the chilly grounds, heavy blankets and other items in her arms as she made her way toward Harry's tent.

The massive guards watched her approach, but made no moves to hinder her, although the looks that they were sending her were almost enough to make her reconsider her decision. Gathering her courage, she continued on regardless, and they did however open the flap of the tent for her as she passed.

The inside of the tent was extraordinarily warm, and Hermione immediately knew that her cover of bringing warm blankets and other items was pointless. The air felt heavy, and there was a distinct smell of incense or other things in the air. Many interesting items and other relics that hummed with magic were strewn about, and Harry himself was in the middle of the room, eyes shut in a meditative pose, but within moments he opened them and smiled at her, standing to greet her properly.

"Ah, Hermione, what a pleasant surprise... What can I do for you, here in my humble abode?" he said, gesturing for her to have a seat in one of the small stool-like chairs that were scattered around various tables.

"Well, you see," Hermione started, still somewhat unnerved by the strangeness of the inside of the tent. With all the items and clearly project materials that were here, it seemed less likely that the boy was a prisoner, at least of the two creatures that were outside right that instant, but she had to be sure, "I came to check on you…"

"Ah, you were worried about my performance at the First Task…" Harry finished, moving away toward a small fire pit that had been set into the side of the tent, covered from getting too large and the smoke funneled out of a small protected hole in the ceiling.

Her concern must have show on her face, as Harry turned back and continued speaking, "It wasn't my idea or intention, but I am being watched, and have to play the part I was given to survive for the time being."

The confirmation was gladly accepted by Hermione, and she relaxed almost at once knowing that the boy was not some power driven monster. But there were still nagging questions that she had to have answers for. "Why?" she started, but he held up a hand to forestall her.

"There isn't much I can say without them overhearing, but I can tell you a small amount… namely to not worry about me, I have everything slowly working to my favor, and I will be free of these oppressors soon enough. I simply need to play their game a short time longer before I can make my escape, possibly with one of their great tools, and then all will be right again."

Hermione wasn't exactly sure what the boy was referencing, but it sounded like a good thing that he was already devising a method for his freedom, and soon he would be able to return to Hogwarts as a normal student. It would be wonderful, and they would all learn of this earth changing magic once again.

She was broken out of her happy thoughts by several loud cracking sounds from outside, and Harry visibly groaned. "What now…" he said, almost sounding bitter. He strode to the tent flap and peered out, before quickly ducking back inside and turning to her, "You need to leave, now," he said, ushering her to the back of the tent, where another exit awaited, "circle around and double back toward the castle, do not look back, you won't like what you'll see."

"Harry, what? I don't under…" she started, confused at his sudden abruptness, but he interrupted her, "There's no time; you must leave before they arrive."

Her eyes snapped wide, the people who kidnapped him were coming, and she had to get away so they didn't know he was plotting against them. Nodding her understanding, she bolted from the tent, ducking around some of the closer trees and sprinting along the side of the castle without another word or even a glance back at the tent, hoping that she hadn't been spotted. Harry would be all right, he was always all right.

Only when she got back into the castle did it suddenly feel like a fog had lifted from her mind, and she shook her head momentarily trying to recover her senses. What had she been doing? She remembered quite clearly making it down to Harry's tent and entering, but after that it felt something like a blur, and suddenly she was running back into the castle because someone or something else was approaching the tent and she didn't want to be seen there.

But still she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was missing quite a lot of what had gone on, but for some pressing reason she couldn't place, she had no desire to go back and figure it out. So she returned to Gryffindor Tower, although the pressing urge to understand what had happened, although faint, never departed.

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Nobu'tan shook his head at the pathetic girl that he had chosen to lead the Mages here at Hogwarts. She had been so easy to enchant the moment she had entered his tent, preventing her from seeing or feeling anything that would have diminished her perspective of him as great and wonderful and kind, but the apparent arrival of more wizards demanded that she leave as quickly as possible. The spells would fade, leaving only the memories of what she thought she saw and heard in the tent, as well as the pressing need to not return… for his own safety of course.

Once the girl was out of sight, Nobu'tan could focus on the oncoming assailants. More Ministry goons no doubt, led by the grey robed men that had been spying on him since before the First Task. The lows that Dumbledore would sink to were astounding.

"Teg'Ramm, deal with these parasites, do not let them interfere." He ordered, before returning to the project he was in the midst of working on before Granger had arrived.

The deep blood red circle that he had drawn upon the ground was perfect for such a ritual, wherein he had hopes to discover the source of the Goblet of Fire's magic, and with a bit of finesse and strength, shatter it and allow himself to depart without continuing to play the old man's games.

But the ritual was rather in depth and would require much of his attention to even commence, and all these distractions were not conducive to such an environment. Calling upon the powers from beyond as he stepped into the circle, Nobu'tan heard the small amount of chatter outside the tent, likely the Ministry fools making their demands of his servants, but he blocked out their words as he started the orcish chant, calling upon every scrap of Fel knowledge he knew to bend and warp the magic around himself, searching for the anomaly that had to reside therein that allowed the Goblet to take hold with its burning power.

Sifting through the astral vision that he had of the magic surrounding him, Nobu'tan weeded through the connections that he had to the Leylines, the Fel, his minions and many artifacts he had created or gathered over time, seeking for something that did not belong connected to him.

There was something, located deep within himself, but to reach it would potentially allow the Fel to sink its powerful magic just as deeply into him, warping him much like it had many of his servants. It was a cost worth considering the ramifications of. If he took more of the Fel into himself, his abilities in the Arcane would diminish as a result, and he would physically change, growing more demonic in appearance. Not altogether a bad thing, but the further result would allow the Legion to have more direct control over him, as one of them rather than a mortal that used their magic. It was one of the more positive things of being one of the supposed 'lesser' races. They had to give over their will to be controlled, rather than simply being dominated by virtue of what they were.

Would he give up such freedom from a greater and crueler master for the temporary freedom from what Dumbledore had planned? It irritated Nobu'tan to consider it, but yes, he's rather deal with Dumbledore and the old man's plots that be forever bound to the Legion and their vile schemes.

With a grunt of pain he allowed the Fel energy to fade, vaguely aware of the sounds of battle just outside the tent, but he was still busy and would rather focus on more pressing issues that the foolish humans that dared to challenge his ogre magi.

That was the case, until the tent flap was forcefully pulled aside, revealing one of the grey robed men, who was holding some sort of object in his hands and pointing it at Nobu'tan. "You are under arrest, Dark Wizard," the man said, even as a wand joined the object, threateningly pointed directly at the warlock's heart.

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Teg'Ramm heard the command of his master, and in seeing the approaching two dozen robed humans, he stood to his full height, stepping to the edge of the runestone's ward around the tent and blocking their path. "None pass; state your business here, humans." Teg declared, while Ramm and the other ogre mage kept their eyes out for any sign of hostility.

"Stand aside Troll, we will speak with Mr. Potter and none else." The leader, an older human clad in grey said, but Teg'Ramm didn't like the shrouding effect that his robe made over the man's body, preventing him from easily seeing what the man was holding beneath the folds of cloth.

"No," Ramm countered even as the heads switched tasks, and Teg subtle started to pool Fel magic around their immense frame, "None may see the boy, you will explain yourselves or go back, unless you want it to devolve to violence…"

"We are not here to explain ourselves to witless beings with little understanding in the ways of magic or power, your brute strength do not impress or frighten us…" the man said, but both Teg'Ramm and the other ogre mage smiled, all four heads glinting with suppressed magical might.

"So, be it then, wizard…" Teg stated, as he released parts of the Fel magic he had gathered, summoning a small contingent of demons between the tent and these wizards, even as he and Ramm grasped their staff in both of their powerful hands, "Violence it is then… Attack!"

The baying of the Felhounds he had summoned rent the sky as the demonic hounds charged, eager to sink their fangs into the flesh of magic beings, and the wizards leapt back, their wands out and casting jets of magic at the demons, even as the pair of ogre magic slowly fell back toward the tent, unwilling to leave their master undefended.

Teg unleashed bolts of shadow magic, peppering the ground nearest the more nimble humans to keep them on their toes, while Ramm worked to maneuver their bulk around the pathetic jets of magic that the wizards returned, maintaining a Fel shield around the just in case.

Their ally, the other ogre mage was conjuring more demons to join the fray even as they grasped their staff in one hand, looking eager to wade into battle like their brutish cousins, but holding himself restrained for the moment, the intelligence afforded by the dual brains overriding the instinctual urge for bloodshed.

Swarms of imps surged forth, crying sharply for blood and fire, but the wizards seemed to be amazingly holding their own, the handful of grey clad wizards seeming to make up the difference that the red warriors lacked previously in their attempts to take Lord Nobu'tan from the school.

Small devises started to fly out of the grey cloaks, exploding with powerful blasts of magic as they struck the ground or various demons, causing catastrophic damage to the affected areas, and opening pockets of space for the wizards to advance toward the tent, drawing closer to the ward line that surrounded them protectively.

Teg'Ramm smirked as they arrived at the line, but it quickly faded as another object, some sort of metal rod, was used to viciously strike the ward, and it shimmered before fading completely.

Roaring with rage and anger, Teg'Ramm unleashed a spell of madness upon himself and the other ogre, tapping into that primal bloodlust that all ogres possessed, and swinging his powerfully enchanted staff like a club, he strode into battle, his powerful hide shrugging off even the most powerful of spells.

Ramm kept up a steady stream of spells to keep those farther away from the melee swings from getting too close, and the united assault of the two magi seemed to be enough to push the wizards back for a moment, but only when he sent a few other flying with a powerful two-handed swing, did Teg look back and see that one of the grey robed figures had slipped around them and was entering Nobu'tan's tent, against orders of him not being disturbed.

Roaring in frustrated disappointment at his failure, Teg'Ramm unleashed a torrent of shadowflame in all directions, staggering back those unfamiliar with the magic, before calling forth a torrent of flaming spheres from the sky, to pelt the ground with a miniature blazing inferno, covering him as he charged at the tent fully intending to reach inside and crush the wizard with his bare hands for interrupting his master in the midst of his rituals.

Teg'Ramm only made it several massive steps, closing a port of the distance to the tent, when there was a massive backlash of magic from within, and the wizard flew backward out of the tent, tearing the flap completely from the rest of the covering. Nobu'tan stood in the doorway, his eyes aflame with rage and burning red from the use of the Fel magic that coursed through his small body.

Teg'Ramm immediately stepped aside in fear as the powerful Lord of the Black Harvest stepped forward toward the fallen wizard, hands glowing green with Felfire, and grasped the front of the wizard's robes, which started to smoke as the cursed Legion fire ate away at the magically imbued cloth.

"I answer to none of your claims," Nobu'tan roared, his voice amplified by the magic coursing through him, and physically threw the wizard back to his fellow, knocking a fair number to the ground as they tried to catch their comrade.

Unfortunately for the two ogres and their master, the appearance of Nobu'tan seemed to only embolden the wizards to new heights of stupidity, and they redoubled their efforts to defeat them, launching a volley of spells directly at the young warlock. Tog'ramm yelled desperately as he imposed himself between the spells and his master, feeling the foul magic strike his hide hard, and the burning pain as his chest was split open in a horrible fashion.

"NO!" Nobu'tan cried, even as Teg'Ramm felt his legs give out, falling heavily to the earth. Blackness quickly obscuring his vision, he saw only a small handfuls of explosions, and knew with a smirk on each head that at the least he would be avenged by his master.

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Sirius was stalking the outskirts of the forbidden forest, keeping a close eye on Harr… no, Nobu'tan, for Albus as the Headmaster took care of things within the castle and in regards to the Tournament. Therefore he was in a prime location to watch as the latest group of Ministry buffoons attacked the massive tent where his godson resided on the grounds like a squatter. It did anger him that Lily and James' son couldn't be allowed within the castle, but it was the boy's own choice to not forsake his guards and allow hospitality to protect him.

He had never before now made the attempt to approach, knowing that the boy in that tent remembered nothing concerning him, and to try and profess his care and love for him was hopeless, and neither was the boy willing to work on new memories to try and have any kinship with his birth parents, so obsessed he was with whatever plan he had forged with the Legion. Sirius had all but given up his ability to fulfill his responsibilities as Godfather to the boy, that all he could do was volunteer time and again to watch the tent for any signs of activity.

Sirius was about to lie down in his animagus form and watch the battle, hoping that none of the wizards would be torn limb from limb this time, but at the same time getting a sick sense of pleasure that this sycophants of Fudge would be eliminated from their duty for a good long time due to their blind loyalty, when the battle broke out in earnest. Demons charged from the sides of the tent even as the wizards tore down the protective barrier that encompassed it.

Sirius had watched time and again as the Ministry failed upon that shield that he wasn't surprised that they managed to find a way to tear it down now, but what he wasn't expecting was for his godson to actually appear, physically throwing a wizard from the tent and back to his group of attackers.

Then the unthinkable occurred. As one the wizards shot many dangerous and quite indeed lethal spells at the boy, and Sirius was aghast as the massive, blue, two-headed troll leapt between Lily's boy and the oncoming tide of death, and took the spells himself on the chest, collapsing to the earth in a small quake.

Harry screamed, and that was when Sirius knew that the game was over. The boy was highly protective of his servants, much in the same way that James' had been overly protective of his friends, and the sky opened up with Felfire, sending a barrage down on the location of the Ministry wizards, making them scatter as the boy advanced.

In the wake of gore and screams that followed as the small boy went on a rampage over the grounds of Hogwarts, Sirius' gaze was pulled back to the massive troll, lying still on the ground in front of the tent. Was it his imagination, or did the creature stir slightly. Drawn by his own curiosity more than anything else, Sirius padded his way over swiftly, hoping to get to the spot and leave long before Nobu'tan returned.

The flesh covering the creatures massive bare chest was torn and ragged, resembling vaguely a sunburst pattern where the flesh had been flayed open by the spells meant for its master, but even as Sirius approached it still rose and fell slightly, as the creature was clearly breathing its final breaths.

Transforming back and drawing his wand, Sirius wondered if it would be a mercy to put the beast out of its misery. What he didn't expect was for the hulking thing to open its eyes, all three between both heads, and look at him in a mixture of pain and sorrow. Sirius froze, reading all the emotions that poured out of the creature that ought to have none. Grief, loss, anguish all were present, as well as a protective fury that Sirius alone could emphasis with regarding the boy that was out seeking vengeance even now, rather than staying by the side of a loyal protector.

Sirius knew what he had to do, to make sure that his godson was as safe as possible. He had learned healing magic long before, and could easily cauterize these wounds, preventing the creature from dying, although it would be extremely weak for a long time yet.

"Shh," he said, placing a hand on one of the creature's heads, trying to soothe it from struggling, "because you protect my godson, I will save you, but I command you as one who loves that boy, you will forever owe your life to him, far more than any promises that he has given to you, do you understand me?"

The creature turned both heads slightly, looking directly into Sirius' eyes with all the solemnity that it could muster in its state of pain, and nodded both heads. That was all that Sirius needed. from what he had learned, Nobu'tan and his followers were powerfully tied to the oaths that they made, and would never break one, although they may look for every loophole possible to weave around it, but he had never heard of a single one that he had broken to anyone he respected, and he hoped to whatever beings of light and goodness existed that he was respected by this creature as Sirius wove his healing magic, directing it carefully at the rends and tears of the flesh.

There was only minor internal damage, from a wizarding perspecive, and Sirius quickly treated that first, as it was the most lethal of anything the creature had suffered. Pierced lungs and broken bones mostly, but easily repaired with the right spell and careful consideration of the different body type.

The flesh would scar, with how deep the wounds were, but Sirius knew that if this creature thought anything like he did, it would be a badge of honor to him and his kind, that he was willing to sacrifice himself for another, for his leader and master. When he had finished, the troll started to try and sit up, but Sirius place a hand on its shoulder, knowing that if it resisted he had no means of actually preventing it from rising, "No, you need to lie still, you will be very weak for many days after a wound like that."

"But… my Lord…" the creature said, its voice hitching from the pain. Sirius had had no time to administer any sort of painkiller, either potion or charm, but the creature hadn't made a noise or movement when he started.

"He will be fine for a bit, but I must go before he returns. Remember your oath to me, and heal well to protect him forever." Sirius charged the creature, even as he heard the other ogre returning alongside Nobu'tan, and he swiftly transformed and departed back into the trees.

There he watched as the boy returned, presumable to mourn over his dead servant, only to pause when the creature he had healed stirred, and bellowed orders at its fellow to bring the fallen one into the tent, before gesturing at a massive stone near the entrance, which restored the ward that kept out all hostiles to him from approaching the tent.

Sirius wasn't sure what the ramifications of what he had done were, but in his heart he knew he had done all he could, albeit indirectly, to protect his godson from whatever the boy was going to get himself into.

"I love you, Harry," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

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"Yes, Lord Nobu'tan, he will be taken care of as best as we are able," Lucius assured the young warlock for about the tenth time in their conversation through an overlarge portal, after the young man had opened it and sent through his loyal ogre magi servant, which had been direly injured in the protection of their mutual lord.

Lucius was personally very grateful to the massive blue creature, knowing that it had very well saved the warlock's life, and their one surefire chance to escape the enslavement that the Dark Lord's return had all but promised. He would be true to his word, and the two-headed magi would receive the very best of their healing materials, and be given every comfort needed to return it to full strength as speedily as possible.

"I want weekly reports of his condition," Nobu'tan demanded, sounding still very much enraged that such a thing had happened to one of his followers, a concept that had not gone unnoticed by the pureblood noble. Lucius wondered if the boy would feel the same bout of righteous indignation if it was he, or Draco, that had been gravely wounded, and not the creature that the boy himself had all but raised in the magical arts.

"We will do so, and for your continued protection, I am sending through the other ogre magi, to make sure that such an event does not happen again," Lucius replied, signaling for the other two hulking brutes to move through the portal and join their remaining fellow on Nobu'tan's side, inside the Hogwarts grounds.

Clearly the only reason that this fourth one, their leader named Teg'Ramm, was injured was due to a surprise mass attack aimed directly at Nobu'tan, as there typically was little that wizard magic could do against the hardened and quite powerful hide of these creatures, aside from powerful Dark Arts that the Aurors would not normally be using. They must have considered the boy quite the threat for such wanton attempts at murder.

"Also, Lucius," Nobu'tan added, growing more direct with his speech and leaning forward until his face almost crossed the dimensional boundary separating Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts. "I am putting you in charge of seeing to the taking and defense of the location we discussed previously, all my forces are known to you, and I want them evenly distributed to make absolutely certain that when our objects are gathered together that none can stop us in time before the ritual is completed."

"I understand my Lord, and will see to it by the end of the Tournament." Lucius complied, knowing the gravity of what he had just been assigned. It only made sense, with all the other major players of the Council of the Black Harvest trapped at Hogwarts, indeed most of their members, due to age or other circumstances. Lucius alone had the clout to order around the creatures that Nobu'tan had gathered in preparing the area surrounding Stonehenge, and making sure that it was well fortified from potential attack while they opened the portal for the Legion.

"I trust that this means you will be seeking the last object in earnest then?" Lucius added, hinting at the Elder Wand while keeping to the code that Nobu'tan had already used, clearly growing paranoid that he might be being observed at all times, even within the privacy of his warded tent.

"I will have it soon enough, so just make sure that the location is prepared, as I will travel straight there once this farce of a competition is completed." He declared strictly, frowning at the insinuation that he might not be able to fulfill his part of the necessary arrangement.

"Understood, we will be prepared for your arrival by that time," Lucius said, stepping away as Nobu'tan prepared silently to close the portal. "Until then, or if you have some update to fill me on, good evening Lucius…" Nobu'tan stated, and the tear in space sealed itself.

Lucius exhaled slowly, knowing that there was now an incomprehensible amount of things to do, and little less than a year to accomplish it all. Foremost, drafts of their inevitable plans would be needed; as there was no way that he would plot out a suitable defense for that open location on the fly.

Tearing through what maps of the area that were in the family's possession, Lucius magically copied a quite detailed geographical of the surrounding area of the ancient druidic stones, noting the lack of real defensible features, and possible locations for them to plant shrunken walls or towers, all of which Nobu'tan had supplied before and had been used limitedly during their breach of Avalon.

Decidedly simply really, with all the wide open spaces to plan out a reasonable defense, but the problem was that they all operated with a two dimensional attack plan. The moment that the wizards attempted to attack via air, all their plans were ruined. That was unless there was some sort of air-born demon that Nobu'tan had yet to notify them of its existence.

Still, Lucius had to make do with what he had, and setting aside a large contingent for anti-air attacks if needed, he would plan out their defenses to the letter, and make it so that once they arrived on the plains around Stonehenge; they would be erected within moments.

He had most of the year for them to prepare, which would include the ability to learn if he was to expect air defenses to come from beyond the Great Dark or not, and adjust his plan accordingly. However, even for what they had, it would take a great deal from the Ministry and Dumbledore's order to break their lines once they had set up everything, and would they be able to pierce through to where Nobu'tan would be opening the portal by then? Only time would be able to tell.

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Albus was pleased with his finalized version of the Arcane suppressor spell. It should work in preventing at least Hermione's mages from causing unwanted damages when fighting broke out between them and Draco's warlocks. Only a subtle tweak was further needed to allow it to capture and negate Fel magic as well, and that was a simple charge of the magic, able to be placed anywhere like a trap, and prepared.

Alastor and Sirius had both already reported in that the Ministry attack was a horrendous failure, although one of Nobu'tan large guards had been severely injured. Sirius admitted to healing the creature of most of its injuries, in exchange for a vow to protect his godson forever, which Albus understood immediately the man's reasoning behind his action, even if it still granted their enemy a now utterly loyal tool at his disposal. Still, the hulking creature was out of commission for the time, and of the four towering blue troll-like abominations, it had been the most senior, and most powerful.

Granted, the boy had simply summoned all three of the others to serve in its place, while shuttling the injured one off to places unknown, likely Malfoy Manor for all that Albus suspected. Truly, he felt that Lucius' claws were involved somewhere in this madness from the beginning, and how to find out was beyond his skill to pry at the moment, with all that was going on at Hogwarts and the Ministry breathing down everyone's necks.

The only thing that prevented Albus from setting his arcane traps even now was that words had reached him via owl that the Divination Professor, Madam Trelawney, wished to speak with him, which was a rarity in and of itself, as the woman rarely sent word out, let alone left in person, her tower.

Climbing the last of the stairs up to the North Tower and ascending the rope ladder that was a symbolic feature that she had added herself, unwilling to lower the last set of stairs that quite well existed for the tower attic that she taught and dwelled in.

Something about a heightening of thinking or something, but Albus hadn't paid enough attention to Divination during his schooling to truly see the difference it made.

"Ah, Professor Dumbledore, you answered my summons," Sybill said airily from behind her small table where a crystal ball rested.

"Naturally," Albus replied, "I highly value my staff, if you have a concern or simply wish to chat; I am more than willing to set time aside to hear you."

"I have detected something moving in the shadows of the future," Sybill said seriously, without a single trace of her usual mysterious air that she attempts to convince others of her abilities with, which made Albus paused as he crossed the room toward her. "I believe I have had a vision of late, and left myself a message regarding it. Who knew that I am indeed as gifted as my ancestors, albeit in such a deep trance that I myself cannot behold what I see and interpret it?"

Albus seated himself across from her, subtly using the Arcane to brush away some of the intoxicating incense and smiled pleasantly, "and what was it that you told yourself?" he asked.

In answer, Sybill used some of her magic to illuminate the ball between them, and an image of herself appeared chanting in the rough hoarse voice that Albus recognized marked a true prophecy from the woman, "Darkness and Flame descends upon the world, as midnight comes upon the eve of the sixth month. Terrors of sky and earth and stars beyond shall rise, and great shall be their heinous cries. Yet singing the Light shall come to claim her own and save them from flame. And in time he who brings great Darkness shall return to rescue those of the Light, and defeat the fiery villains for all time."

"From what I can tell, Professor," Sybill said as the vision closed from the ball, "there are dark times ahead of us, and a great enemy shall arise, more deadly and powerful than even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and any caught in the middle of this battle between the forces of Light and this engulfing shadow will be lost. I have never asked much of you Headmaster, but I must know if you are prepared to stand once more as the leader of the Light on this world, and protect those who will flock to you for aid?"

Albus had to think soundly for a moment, as he understood much more than what was expressed in the prophecy alone. the Legion had indeed set their sights on his world, and only those who understood the depths of the Arcane had any chance of fighting against them. Their wands and the magic they expressed from them, while a powerful tool once long ago, would be all but useless against this enemy, to whom magic was a source of food.

"I will," he said at last, accepting far more than the simple role that Sybill had insinuated. The great work he had prevented thus far needed to begin. The wizarding world needed to change. And to even hope to begin, they needed to know the power of the Arcane.