Chapter 15


25th June 2007

Shrieking Shack.

Severus had gone to see Voldemort, and had never returned. This worried Dumbledore. Since he had defeated Grindenwald, Voldemort was the only being in the world capable of challenging him. Once Voldemort was out of the picture, Dumbledore could conquer the world! He would start with Europe, then extend his empire to the East.

"Mouahahahaha"

Mmmh…He'd have to improve his villain laugh. Maybe he could asks Voldemort for advices before he killed him?!

But he'd have to give Voldemort his undivided attention to hunt down his horcruxes. In other words, he had to deal with Dio now, who was certainly stupid, but had been a thorn in his side for a long time.

However, he couldn't ambush Lord Ravenclaw. It was impossible to predict where he was going to be!

So he decided to kidnap his young friend, Luna Lovegood. He hit her with a sleeping spell, then sent an anonymous message to Lord Ravenclaw, telling him to meet him at the Shrieking Shack.

Dumbledore concealed himself within the shadows of the Hogsmead house, a malevolent smirk playing on his lips. The dilapidated house seemed to creak in anticipation of the impending confrontation. The door of creaked open, and Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with anticipation. Dio entered, disguised as a Pirate. To Dumbledore's dismay, there was no sign of worry etched across Lord Ravenclaw's face. Instead, Dio's expression bore a certain nonchalance that unsettled the old wizard.

"Waouh...I've never seen someone so dumb. Capturing Luna?", drawled Lord Ravenclaw, looking in his direction. How? How had he seen him?

Then, Dio snapped his finger and in a flash of light...

"Fawkes!", screamed Dumbledore. Why had his Horcruxe Phoenix appeared?!

"It's rather strange... One might have expected the Phoenix to be associated with me. After all, it is, par excellence, the creature of rebirth. But this is not the case. On the contrary, the Phoenix is the embodiment of the Apollonian, not the Dionysian. For one simple reason: every time it burns, it is reborn the same. I'm more of a Hydra guy : each time it is hurt, it becomes stronger. But the Phoenix ? No change. No dynamism. A Frozen form. No real life. And that...that pisses me off".

Dumbledore felt something…shift into the air, and quickly acted to protect his Horcrux.

"Avada Kedavra", but the green spell harmlessly crashed on Dio Ravenclaw.

"What….Impossible".

Dio smiled.

"I'm all about impossibilities".

He looked at the Phoenix again.

"Too bad I have to destroy it, I had an idea…Mmmh, no worries, I'll hunt another one".

He grabbed barehanded Fawkes - it should have burnt him ! Why wasn't it doing anything? - and squeezed. The Phoenix exploded, and started to regenerate. But…

"Ehe…I'm Dionysos ! Eternal Return is literally one of my domain ! Thus Spoke Zarathustra", he squeezed again, and the flames of the Phoenix died with their host.

Dumbledore falled on his knees. "Fawkes..."

"You should worry more about yourself...who was stupid enough to kidnap Luna."

Dumbledore turned to look at his young hostage! Yes! A hostage! And he could get away with it.

But, instead of the young fill, there were only teeth and eyes.

""̶̨̛̯͈̮̼̙͈͍̜̮͙̠̭̜̙̲̙͇͙̰̫͇̬̣̟͚͕͚̤̻̳͍̲̩̫͐̔̌̍̐̔̋̍̈́̓͂͊̍̒̎̆̆̈́̔̾̆͗̾̓͒̀͛͛͑̕͘̚͜͝ͅỲ̴̜̼̤̼͍̻̯̥̺̩̲͕͕̠̻͌̑̈́͜͠͝͝ͅų̴̡̨̡̙̗͎̙̝̠͔̝̰̰̲̠͎̩͎͍͉̩̩̖̺̻̺͍̖̠̪̩̭̝̰͕̱̭͕̫͚̭̪̀́̊̾̽̌͂͊̿̈́̾̆̓͐̋̑̀̐̈̑͛̉͒̽̽͒́̓̈́́̄̃̔̅̽̅̄̾̋͊̐͗̕̚̚͠͝͠͠ͅͅͅm̴̛̭̘͕̤̣̞̜̦̹̮̪̘̘̈̌̃͑͂̿̒̋͛͆͌̾̏̃̄͌̈́̈̊̊̿̾͗̑̽̅̄̔̌̈́̈́̏̓̈͛̌͛̏͊͑̎̚͠͝͝m̸̧̨̢̦͉̰̱͙̯̬̺̗̩̟̖̫͈͎̬̥͍̝͎̗͍̟̣̱̰̮͌͌̌̒͒̓͒̈́̀̄̈̈̌̀̏̅͂́̌̆̂̏̿̆̐̄̍͗̈́́́̎̓̃̔̇̈́̅̏̇̕͘͘ͅͅỹ̷̢̢͈̣̹̣̅̃̇͆́͆̑͂̌̑̈́́̃́̈̎̂̆̉̿̈͑́͊͊̐̐̀̔̆͘̚̚̕͜͠͝͠ͅ…̷̨̨̧̟͇̙̜̲͔͉̭̯͈̟͕̹̹̲͈̠̖̫̭͕̯̬̠̹͓͕̥̥̬̣̖̩̭͗͌̎̽̀̒͊̔͆͊̓͒̋̉̃̊́́̒̊̋̐̑͋̀̑̅́̎́̔̏̃͘̚̕̕͜͜͜͠ͅ"̷̨̢̨̢̧̼͈͓̠̠̖̪͚̺͈͔̲̮̬̪͎̘͎̯̪͎̲̲̤̏͑"

̵̪͍̓̑̾̓̈́̓̀͐͆̉͌̋̅̐̐̊̇̆̀̈́̀͋͘̚͝͝

Yay! You ate a Yummy Young Boy! You earned 0,1 XP !

Luna Lovegood

Ŝ̴̝̮̲̀̈́̀͝ḷ̸̆͊̄̑è̵̟̝̜͇͍͂̚e̸͚̊̓p̵̛͇̝̺̊̍̀̕ȋ̸̗̎̌͒͝n̸͕̟͙̫͊g̴̼͉͔̬̫̀ ̶̳̝͌̍̒̂̒G̴͍̖̥͔̔̀̿͂̕ͅŗ̷̘̬̊͌̌̓e̴̘̾͐͋̈́̐a̶̩͖̼̳̻͘t̴͖̽͝ ̸̨͓̞̲̳͗̉͒Ö̵͙̠̤́̊̊͝͝ļ̸͓͔͎͈̊̔̿͊d̴͓̅̽̈́ ̵̨̨̮́͑O̸͚̻̙̍̈̕͘ṉ̵̈́͌̾ẻ̶͍̟͖̳̽̒

̶̺͋͑̀Lvl 4/?

Luna looked strangely at the floating screen, and decided to go back to sleep. She had dreamed enough.


28th June 2007

Ministry of Magic

He'd finished his mission! In the end, he hadn't been able to recover his memories, but he'd gained a Queen of Hearts, werewolves, a few witches, warlocks and Veelas to reinforce his teams, and the beginnings of a cult of Dionysus would spread across England!

Strangely enough, Uriel hadn't said a word. Mph. It had to be okay, then.

However, Dionysus was curious. He remembered Harry Potter Volume 5 and The Veil, and he wanted to take a look before returning to the United States of America for good. He remembered - he did not know if it was fanon of canon - stuff about the Rooms of the Department of Mysteries - and he was definitely curious. The Love chamber? Seemed interesting. The Thought Room? He was in!

The elevator journey to the deepest floor of the ministry seemed to stretch into an eternity. As the elevator doors parted, revealing a dimly lit corridor adorned with cryptic symbols on each door, Dio's curiosity heightened.

Selecting a door at random, Dio swung it open to unveil an unsettling sight—an eerie room filled with brains suspended in glowing vats. His usual smirk faded as an empathic wave swept over him, sensing the silent agony emanating from the cerebral entities. Dio opened another door—a room adorned with magical creatures, majestic and imprisoned by chains. He grabbed a Phoenix, and put it in his bad. But as he reached for his domain, intending to free all the creatures at one, an unforeseen obstacle emerged.

What ?

The access to his divine domains remained inexplicably closed, leaving Dio slightly perturbed. Undeterred, Dio ventured forth, opening yet another door to reveal…

As Dio cautiously pushed open the door, a chilling voice cut through the air, "Hello, Dionysos! Congratulations on finishing your mission! However, I'm afraid you cannot visit these parts of the department."

The room revealed a grotesque spectacle, bathed in a sickly, dim light. Amidst the nightmarish tableau, Uriel, with his golden locks gleaming, sat like an otherworldly specter at the epicenter. He calmly sipped tea, his ethereal beauty clashing violently with the grim horror that unfolded around him.

Chained to the walls in macabre positions were over a hundred wizards and witches, a haunting chorus of agonized moans and cries filling the air. Dio's eyes widened in horrified disbelief as he beheld the twisted scene. Children, their innocent faces contorted in pain, were among the tormented souls.

"Wh…What?", Dionysos wasn't used to being speechless.

Uriel smiled.

"I'm not going to give a vulgar explanatory monologue like a common villain...but I admit it would amuse me. You might as well know why you came. You see, with the advent of digital technology, it's becoming increasingly difficult for the greater supernatural world to remain hidden...but this problem goes back centuries. However, unlike demons, angels can't lie. They can't alter the consciousness and memories of human beings without falling. So, a few centuries ago, I gave a helping hand to some sorcerers who wished to rule over others. I helped them, in every country, to create a "ministry" of magic. I helped them subdue magical creatures - how else could they dominate creatures stronger and more powerful than themselves? And in exchange, for their reign over their society, they simply had to, spontaneously, do me a small favor. A very small favor. A large-scale fidelius, spanning thousands of kilometers, helping to separate the mundane world from its supernatural counterpart," explained Uriel.

He made a gesture with his hand, pointing to the witches and wizards bound to the walls.

"Obviously...you have to resort to unconventional solutions to power a spell of this magnitude. But you can't make omelettes without breaking eggs. And it's the wizards who do it, not the Church or the Angels. I don't intervene much anymore. Everything runs like clockwork. However, with digital technology making us require a strengthening of the spell...and the two previous wars, we were running out...of wizard children and fresh blood to replace the soon-to-be-dying happy batteries of this spell. But we certainly didn't want to decrease the wizard population - we need them for the future! And what do you do when you want to increase outflows without reducing stocks? Simple accounting problem! We increase the inflow".

Uriel smiled at him. Again. This fucking smile…

"And to increase the inflow of children in a society where contraception is culturally frowned upon, as an angel that cannot directly encourage sinning, there's nothing better than the passage of a little fertility god who, thinking he's smarter than me, will take advantage of the situation to spread his little cult".

Paralyzed and mad with rage, Dionysus glared hatefully at the archangel, who was approaching him.

"What are you going to do, Dionysus? Cut off from your domains after entering a place infused with my presence for over five hundred years?"

Uriel patted his cheek, humiliating the greek god.

"The answer is: absolutely nothing. Since there's nothing you can do. Go back to the US, and thanks for the future children!"

Uriel touched Dionysus, and the god found himself propelled into a garbage can in New York.

Luna was nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!", he screamed - not knowing if it was because he was a bit hurt or because, for the first time, he could not free people and his domain backlashed. Or because has was so…angry.

He had to get stronger. Much, much, stronger.


26th June 2007

Halfblood Camp

Inside the lively Bouleuterion, the buzz of concerned voices filled the air, echoing the worries about Dionysus' mysterious absence and, above all, the poisoning of Thalia trees. Chiron, attempting to restore order, found himself amidst the chaotic symphony of fretful campers.

"Everyone, please, we must address the issues at hand!" Chiron's voice cut through the din as campers turned their attention to the centaur.

In the midst of the anxious crowd, the Strategoï, deliberated on a solution. One to the other Strategoï, Beckendorf, son of Hephaestus, took a confident step forward. "Listen up, folks. We've been working tirelessly on the defensive walls for over a year. I'm not worried – our defenses are prepared for anything."

Silena, the Strategos representing Aphrodite, a note of skepticism in her voice, challenged him, "Even if the tree falls? Can your walls handle the continuous waves and waves of monsters?"

Beckendorf, undeterred, replied, "Trust me. Those walls are impenetrable. We've got it under control."

Amid the murmurs of uncertainty, Luke, seizing the moment with charismatic flair, stepped forward and dressed the whole Bouleuterion. "My friends, let's not allow fear to divide us. Beckendorf is right; our defenses are strong. But we must be prepared for any eventuality. That's why I propose the anticipated election of the three Archons. We cannot afford to wait for Dionysos to return!"

His words carried a certain magnetism, and campers leaned in, captivated by his presence. "If you need your memory refreshed…The eponymous Archon will oversee civil administration and public justice, managing the theater and day-to-day affairs. This role will make them the third-highest authority in the camp, following only Dionysos and Chiron. The Archon-King will maintain discipline and order, ensuring our unity. Lastly, the Polemarch will take charge of military affairs, overseeing camp protection and training."

Luke's gaze swept across the room, emphasizing the gravity of their situation. "If, by some unfortunate turn, the Thalia tree falters, these positions will become crucial. We need strong leaders in place to help us navigate through the incoming challenges. We must stand together, united in the face of adversity!"

His charismatic appeal resonated within the Bouleuterion, momentarily quieting the anxious murmurs as campers considered the proposed solution. The true challenge lay beneath the surface—the vulnerability of the camp's magical defenses. The fluidity of Luke's words and the urgency of the situation hung in the air, binding the campers in a shared sense of purpose.

Clarisse, the Strategoï of Ares, was the first to break the silence. "I'm running for Polemarch!

A murmur of approval ran through the camp.

And, just like that, after the shortest election in history - crises have always been good for demagogues - Luke, traitor to the boot of Kronos, found himself propelled as eponymous Archon, seconded by Clarisse as Polemarch and Pollux as Archon-King.

End of Arc 2