Hey Everyone! I am sorry this chapter took so long. Unfortunately, this one was a pain, and it took a while before I even liked it enough to do a second and third draft and then edit. But I am finally satisfied, even if it isn't perfect haha. I hope you all enjoy it!
The Training Room in Riddle Manor was an impressive sight for those who were lucky enough to be allowed access. It was the prime location for the training of the Inner Circle Death Eaters, as well as being a large enough space for the Inner Circle to train, test and do initiations with Outer Circle members and new recruits. It was also where many, not-so-friendly practice duels got out of control, usually at the hands of Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr.
Although, today the training room was devoid of the usual training setups; the magical dummies that could fight back at various levels were shrunken down and tucked up in the storage closet. The training platform that usually took up one-half of the room, which looked very much like a muggle wrestling ring, was floating firmly above the room touching the ceiling. Without all of the training equipment spread throughout the room, the first thing to catch anyone's eye was the grandiose window wall opposite the entrance door.
The window spanned the entire way, floor to ceiling and side to side, divided into four columns with black metal panels. Dressed with delicate white lace drapes, which were charmed to lift whenever someone came inside. Allowing the bright sunlight, which poured into the room for most of the day, to illuminate every nook and cranny. Just outside the windows was the most charming sight of the garden, filled with bright colours from both magical and muggle flowers and further into the garden. All four Black sisters looked after the garden, helped by the Muggle groundskeeper, Frank Bryce. Away from the house and in the middle of the garden was a Victorian garden gazebo, hedged by perfectly maintained lavender shrubs.
The wall on the left of the door was a solid built-in dark brown oak bookcase, stretching up to the ceiling and out to each end. Each shelf's backboard and edging were delicately carved into patterns of wand movements for Dark, Neutral, and Light Magic. Of course, this collection wasn't anything in size compared to the Riddle Manor's private library room, which was a maze of bookcases, couches, and an uncountable amount of books of all kinds. No, this was a rather small and modest collection but was filled with almost every published book on defensive and offensive magics, warding, and runes.
Then to the right was a plain wall, painted white, but it was the feature of the entire room. A thin protective glass covered the entire wall; charmed to be unbreakable, as well as dust and smudge-free. Only a select few could open it, even the Heirs of Riddle Manor weren't trusted with it yet. The wall was split into four sections; at the top of each column was a sizable shield, each carefully painted with a family crest. Black. Gaunt. Riddle. Slytherin. The family bloodlines proudly look down on them. Under each crest was an impressive and daunting collection of both Muggle and Magical weapons, having been handed down each line for generations.
There was a second of peace as Tom entered the room, basking in this moment, his children getting their revenge while finally learning a vital part of their education. This room was more than just a training room for him. It was here that he and his family, including the Inner Circle and their families, trained to succeed. It was here they planned how they could better the Wizarding World. It was cheesy, Tom knew, but this was where the change happened for them. He was pulled out of his contentment rather abruptly at a very loud and high-pitched sound.
"Shut up Mione!" Harry shrieked, causing Tom to flinch before blinking. Oh no. Dear Merlin. His son had inherited the Black Screech. He had thought they had avoided it. Yes, he had heard his son yell and scream before, but never a full Black Screech. Oh, they would have to talk about this, but just like any good father would, Tom decided to push it to the side. Cassi was the one who could shriek like that, she could deal with him, it was her family's fault anyway.
"Oh bite me you Banshee!" Hermione snapped back, Tom's eyes went wide, oh shit. You never call a Black a Banshee… to their face! As Harry drew in a breath, cheeks pinking and eyes narrowing in anger, Tom leapt in.
"Okay, that is enough." He ordered firmly. "I know this is a stressful situation, and if you aren't ready for it, that's perfectly fine. You know your Mother and I would never think of you differently if you bowed out. But! I will not have you two taking it all out on each other."
"Yes Father," they chorused, heads down. 'There Tom, that was good parenting' He thought proudly as he hugged them both.
"Now, are you two up to this?" He asked carefully, "We don't have to do your training on them if you aren't feeling up to facing them. But if you also just don't feel ready to learn The Unforgivables, we can push it back until next summer,"
"No!" Harry denied quickly and furiously, "I want this, I need this. They need to pay," he swore.
"Facing the demons is the road to recovery," Hermione nodded in agreement with her brother, curly hair flying everywhere. She had read many books on what to expect when faced with your abuser and how confrontation can be therapeutic. Of course, it would also be a plus to see them in pain, she thought with a smirk.
"Alright," Tom nodded, giving in easily. He trusted his children to tell him when they couldn't handle something. This would be difficult enough without them thinking he didn't believe in them. He was incredibly proud of them, they had come a long way from the quivering children he had found at Wool's Orphanage.
"I would like to refresh ourselves on some of the theoretical studies we did over the holidays," Tom continued, laughing when Harry collapsed back into a small cream settee with a groan.
"Do we have to?" the petite teenage boy whined. He pushed his curly messy hair out of his eyes as he lay down on the settee, head and knees on the cushions with his knees bent and one arm hanging off the couch, the other resting over his eyes.
"I would like to," Hermione spoke up, ignoring Harry when he snorted with an "of course you would"
"Excellent." Tom clapped his hands, "Now let's start easy. The Unforgivables were created in the middle ages by seven extremely gifted Magicals."
"Oswyn Abbott, Ismenia Black, Algar and Agatha Burke, Bertram Greengrass, and Winifred Prewett" Hermione rattled off quickly before Tom could finish.
"Why in alphabetical order?" Harry muttered baffled.
"Well done," Tom grinned, ignoring his son. He was pleased to see they were both already starting to calm down.
Hermione was pacing but it wasn't a stressful pace with her hands tugging on her hair, and muttering about nothing under her breath, but instead, just a soft pace silently waiting for the next question. Harry was watching from where he was still on the settee, hair in a messy halo around his head, hands absently playing with something in his pocket.
Tom cracked his neck before he Accioed his favourite chair, the emerald green leather one that he used for his office and Death Eater Meetings. He sat down in it with a soft sigh. It was the most comfortable thing he owned. He shot his children a glare when they hid their faces to laugh at the sight of the chair, they thought it was just as ostentatious as their Mother did. He shook his head when they just snickered at him, sometimes he wished his glare worked on his family.
"They were a powerful coven of friends, all of them had exceptional gifts of magic," Tom said, moving on. "No one ever truly knew just how powerful or talented they were. Together they made their fortune and living by creating many spells of all categories for anyone who had the money and ideas but not the skill. Spell crafting is not something just any Magical can do, it is a long and tedious journey, not only do they have to bend magic to pair the movement, words and intention together, but it can take years of testing and perfecting." Tom took a breath to let his words sink in.
The twins nodded their understanding, spell crafting was notoriously difficult and dangerous. They didn't know many who could spell craft, Their Father could, of course. They also knew their Uncles Severus and Rodolphus, could. Then two Outer Circle members, Augustus Rookwood and Gareth Greengrass could also craft spells, although not as easily as the others.
It was a badly kept secret that the Marauders, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew had all dabbled in crafting magic together back in their school years. Before the split of their friendships at the end of the war. And then the darker side of spell crafting, Harry and Hermione's friend, a sister in all but blood, Luna Lovegood, lost her Mother Pandora to a spell craft gone wrong. Luna had been in the room when Pandora's wand had exploded, her mother had chosen not to protect herself, but her nine-year-old daughter, dying in the process.
"Because of how many years they spent crafting, and how long it took to create and then perfect, the exact date of each Unforgivables creation isn't known." Tom picked back up, "Now do have any questions?" he asked, pausing again to give them a moment. He had encouraged their questions from the time they came home. Even if it had been covered, or they felt like a stupid question. He told them to ask. It's the only way to keep moving forward in any subject of learning.
"Hartford, are you listening or just playing with your koosh ball?" Tom asked as a green blob in the air caught his eye. "What a stupid name for a toy," He muttered, with a shake of his head. He had to suppress his laughter when Harry turned his head to look at his Father, only for the ball to smack his face as it came back down.
"I'm listening," Harry sulked, Hermione had not suppressed her amusement, and let out a belly laugh as tears leaked from her eyes, much to Harry's chagrin.
"So, what are the three Unforgivable Curses?" Tom teased, letting out a laugh when Harry groaned and looked at him, exasperation clear across his face.
"Are you kidding?" Harry sighed with a raised eyebrow, "we knew those before we even started learning about them,"
"So tell me then, you must know?" Tom taunted playfully, snickering when Harry rolled his eyes, fingers tugging on the strands of his koosh ball.
"The Killing Curse, the Torture Curse, and the Imperius Curse." Harry drawled without breaking eye contact, finishing with an awkward sitting half-bow from his spot on the couch.
"Well done Hartford," Tom praised mockingly, with a teasing smirk on his lips as Harry huffed and rolled his green eyes.
"And the incantations?" Tom asked, turning to look at his daughter who had summoned a second settee from near the window to sit in.
"Avada Kedavra. Crucio. Imperio." She rattled off automatically, without even pausing to think. "They are lime green, crimson red, and I would say either arctic or turquoise Blue." She added the colours after a moment of thought.
"Exactly," Tom nodded, "Impressive, I am curious do either of you remember what happens if you use the spells in Parseltongue?" he asked, not surprised when Hermione answered immediately.
"The power behind the spell expands; the pain caused by a Cruciatus will double and the amount of time before those under the curse go insane halves. The Imperius becomes even harder to throw off. Many people can throw off an Imperius with time, practice and willpower. But using Parseltongue and binding Parselmagic to the Imperius would make it so only those accomplished in Occlumency would be able to fight it off."
"Except Avada, obviously," Harry snickered, "You can't truly enhance The Killing Curse, but it does change colour, becoming a sort of garnet red, which can make your opponent mistake it for Expelliarmus. Which obviously can end up being a rather large advantage."
"Colour me, impressed children," Tom praised, smirking when they groaned at his pun. He paused, turning his head to look towards the doorway when he heard a familiar sound of his wife humming and then a small bang and an "Oops" in her chipper voice as the deeper voice belonging to Peter chuckled. Knowing his darling wife, she was most likely levitating the Dursleys and the Grangers and had let one or more hit something, maybe a door frame or one of the many hallway buffet tables.
"I can hear your Mother coming with our guests," Tom said with a smile as he turned back to his children, watching as they stood up straight. Their eyes narrowed in determination, letting the anger they felt overtake any feeling of fear or nervousness, pulling strength from each other and their parents.
They were ready.
Tom smirked at the sight of the four muggles struggling uselessly against the magic binding them, a glowing purple strand of magic coming from Cassi's wand, wrapping around them sort of like a muggle whip. Why his son compared that spell to a whip had been something Tom had had no interest in questioning when he heard it. They also had large black blindfolds over their eyes, you could tell they were magically conjured with the spell 'Obscuro' because of the way they shimmered and rippled. As if space itself had fallen to blind the victim.
And just as he predicted, Mr Granger's face was scrunched in pain with a red irritated area that seemed to already be forming into a lump. Cassi met Tom's eyes with a self-satisfied smile on her cherry lips as she winked at him. As she went to work with Peter to arrange the muggles further down into the room, Tom placed a hand on the shoulder of both Harry and Hermione, crouching down on his knees to be at eye level.
"We can do this however you two wish to," Tom told them, his red eyes darkening in excitement. This was a big moment for his children, not only were they finally trying out the darkest of all curses which he had been waiting for, for years. But they were confronting those who had hurt them, who had seen two toddlers who were different to them and instead of embracing the two, they abused them. He let his eyes drift up to see the disgusting men and women behind Harry and Hermione, they were simply standing there, the whip-like binding gone.
By appearance, it seemed that the Muggles were free, but Tom had worked with the Lestrange brothers and Augustus Rookwood, for the two weeks they had been in the dungeon, to create a set of runes that would work for what he wanted. The four of them would be able to move their limbs and react to magic used on them, even falling over or jumping. But they wouldn't be able to step towards anyone, including each other, nor could they doge the spells thrown at them, or even try to escape. Only magic would be able to move them around, no matter how hard they tried.
Last night the elves had placed a sleeping potion in their waters and Augustus had carved the runes into the base of their necks. Runes could be extremely dangerous if done improperly, so Tom was more than happy to let Rookwood, who had a Mastery in them, do all the work. He had even been smart enough to allow the cell to be a key of sorts, making it so while they were inside their cells they could move as usual with no restrictions.
Tom could feel his fury bubbling in his magic, as he looked at them. It had been a test of his temper and patience having the monsters of Harry and Hermione's childhood nightmares in his cells. He had wanted to kill the fuckers who had dared to lay their filthy hands on his loved ones. He wanted to make them scream, break their bones, rip off their skin, and boil them alive from the inside for what they did. But he held back, Harry and Hermione deserved the chance to make them themselves first. Although that hadn't stopped him and Cassi from a few painful hexes and curses the night they bought them home.
"What do you mean?" Harry's curious voice grounded Tom, immediately he lowered his eyes to meet theirs. Confused for a moment, before remembering what he had said before he got lost in his thoughts.
"Your Mother and I agreed, you can choose how this goes. We can start with any of The Unforgivables you wish and just fly right into it, or your Mother and I can do some demonstrations for you of each spell with some coaching points before you try."
Harry and Hermione shared a look, Avada green eyes locking onto each other, and the rest of the room faded away. They may not have been able to communicate telepathically, but it was a damn near thing. Much like any other set of Magical twins, they were closer to each other than anyone else, their twin came before anyone, even soulmates. They were even able to know exactly how the other feels or thinks with a simple connection of their eyes.
Hermione was very methodical when it came to learning magic. She preferred letting others go first, watching their failures and successes, all the while taking notes. Listening to those who could teach her, absorbed their knowledge, and then compared it to what she knew from her beloved books. Then she would go over the wand movements and the pronunciation, again and again until she felt she had a good hang of it, only then would she cast the spell. Once she was happily competent with her casting, she would let herself feel the magic, letting her core bond with it, before starting to experiment. Adjusting in any which way she could, her patience and determination meant she had unbelieve control over her spells and the power. She hoped to be a Master of at least five spells before she was seventeen like her Father, and maybe even someday create her own.
Harry was almost the exact opposite of his twin, preferring to haphazardly throw himself into the deep end. He could feel his Magic guiding him, teaching him, all he had to do was listen to it. So instead of watching others, he would be the first to cast, learning from his failures and successes. Focussing on how right or wrong every move he made felt, from how the words felt on his tongue and how the movements flowed from his wrist. To the swiftness or stiffness in his posture, and how his core either soared or resisted the magic and spell as he thought of his intent and what he needed from himself. Despite how different his methods were from Hermione's, he also was incredibly adept at magic. His control and power were just as strong and precise as his twin sister. He had a few spells he knew he wanted to Master, but didn't plan on working his way through as many as Hermione wanted to, nor did he have much interest in creating magic.
They nodded at the same time, knowing exactly what they wanted to do.
"You know, as much as I love your bond with each other," Tom mused, "It is creepy when you just stare at each other, not blinking or talking for five minutes,"
"Did you just call my children creepy Tom?," Cassiopeia asked threateningly, eying him with a frown and pointing her wand at him.
"Absolutely not," He denied quickly, standing up straight and stiff, shaking his head. She narrowed her eyes before turning to her laughing children.
"So have you decided what you want to do?" She asked. "I would hope your Father at least managed to cover that it was up to you."
"Of course, I did my darling," Tom scoffed with a false offence, "Do you think so little of me?"
"Yes," she deadpanned, much to the amusement of Harry and Hermione, but she softened it with a wink and grin. "Now, even though I told Peter he could stay, he said he didn't want to intrude on this family's revenge moment, so he had made plans and it is just us,"
"What?" Tom asked startled, "With who?" he frowned, after everything that had happened, he still felt protective of the man even years later. It was a miracle Peter wasn't a permanent resident of the Janus Thickey Ward, that he hadn't ended up lost inside himself, a shell, like Tom's Father and Grandparents. They had only been under The Imperius compared to Peter under Imperium Summa and Tom hadn't been able to save them, locked inside themselves.
They only had theories for why Peter hadn't been more affected by the Imperium Summa. But among them was because Dumbledore had not used it as frequently as he should have, underestimating how powerful Peter was. Believing him weak, just because he wasn't as flamboyant as his friends with their magic, despite knowing Peter had become an illegal animagus with them at fifteen. Also, Dumbledore hadn't realised how much Peter had to fight for. Yes, he hadn't been a smooth talker, being single for most of his life, but he had had a family. He fought and kept his hopes up for James, Sirius and Remus, for Lily, and for Harry and Henry. Severus had also proposed that the blood bond the four Marauders had done at fifteen had worked better than they had thought. That his friends' magic helped him survive, and even helped with his recovery after the ordeal.
"He has a date with Alecto Carrow," Cassi revealed with relish, giving a little clap of excitement.
"Good for him," the Dark Lord uttered, his lips curling into a half-smile, he looked almost delighted.
"Isn't she sleeping with her twin brother?" Harry asked, looking green and nauseated.
"That's what I heard," Hermione nodded, looking just as sick. Tom stared at his children dumbstruck, while Cassi let out a gurgle from beside him.
"Where did you hear that?!" She finally screeched, grey eyes narrowing.
"Uncle Rabastan," Harry answered, immediately throwing his Uncle under the broom.
"Uncle Barty," Hermione shrugged nonchalantly.
"Maybe we should be teaching you two loyalty instead of the Unforgivables." Tom snorted looking at Harry and Hermione who had no remorse judging by the widening grins on their faces.
"Those two, honestly," Cassi hissed, "maybe they need a reminder about watching what they say around my children."
"Don't break them, my love," Tom sighed, "I still have use for them,"
"Just a little bit," Cassi promised, waving off his concerns.
"But, no," she continued, turning to Harry and Hermione, "She is not in a relationship with Amycus, that is absolutely ridiculous and disgusting."
"Besides, Amycus is gay and never moved on after Evan died," Tom added helpfully.
"Yes, because THAT'S the only thing wrong with this scenario," Cassi sighed in exasperation, adding an eye-roll at her husband, "Alecto has been sweet on Peter since they met in The White Wyvern when he was trying to infiltrate us."
"Oh I do love that pub," Tom sighed with a smile, "It has great food and I love the dark atmosphere. It just adds to the fun on Inner Circle night."
"Anyway," Cassi interjected with a judging glance at her husband, who appeared to be lost in memories of his nights out with the inner circle. "She struggled a bit with her emotions with Peter. She was devastated when he showed up half dead and she thought she was going to lose him. Then she was furious and heartbroken when he admitted to being a spy when they had met. Of course, she was too happy with him surviving and recovering to stay mad,"
"I am just surprised it took this long," Tom commented, "She has been by his side through all his recovery, and it's been, what? Six years since he showed up at the Malfoy Manor?"
"Yes it is long after due," Cassi nodded. "They both deserve to be happy, so no meddling Tom,"
"I don't meddle," Tom huffed, ignoring that he had had thoughts of how to help ensure they stay happy. Also ignoring how he had meddled with many of the Inner Circle before. A loud muffled grunt had the Riddles jump and turn around with their wands out.
"Oh dear, I forgot we had company," Cassi giggled lightly as they watched Vernon trying to move his body and struggling against the magic. John seemed to be moving his head fruitlessly, perhaps trying to dislodge the magical blindfold. While Petunia and Jean were in a state of shock, they were frozen, afraid to even try and move. Why had they been moved out of their cells? Their captors had promised revenge and pain, but they had no idea what these insane freaks had planned for them.
"So, I know we got distracted there," Tom chucked, "But you have decided how you would like to start?"
"I want to go first," Harry grinned, vibrating in excitement, shaking enough to drop his wand. "Oops," he muttered.
"I am happy to watch him and learn from his inevitable mistakes," Hermione chuckled as Harry picked his wand up with a muffled "Hey!" at her jab.
"Alright, let's just fly right in then?" Tom grinned.
"Do you know which Unforgivable you want to try first?" Cassi asked as she watched proudly.
"The Cruciatus!" Harry said quickly, before frowning, "no, the Imperius," but yet again he frowned, "nope, the Cruciatus," he declared with a grin.
"You sure?" Tom asked with a grin. Hermione snorted when Harry frowned again to think. Tapping his chin with his finger.
"Yes, the Cruciatus," he confirmed with a sharp nod.
"The torture curse, and the hardest of the three to cast, I should have known" Tom grinned, "Now, you know the incantation, Crucio. There is no wand movement, you just point your wand at your victim and focus your magic."
Tom moved to stand behind Harry, hands on his shoulders as Harry squared up, his narrowed eyes glaring at Vernon Dursley who was still trying to escape. The runes were doing their jobs flawlessly, he couldn't move beyond the wriggling and his legs wouldn't let him move in any direction.
"Please, please," John Granger started begging. "Don't hurt us," he had stayed quiet while the people he couldn't see talked, hoping they would forget them. But they sounded like they were preparing to go to torture them! He didn't understand many of the words they used, Cruciatus? Imperius? Unforgivables? But he could hear the glee in their voices when they said torture. Two were young, perhaps just older than his two children, the other two seemed to be their parents. He knew they were freaks like the blasted girl they had left at the orphanage, and some of the things the blonde woman had said sounded like it was revenge for it. But why she would care still baffled him.
Vernon was in a similar state of mind. Angry that these freaks dared to talk so breezily about harming him and his wife, they had only done what they needed to! They had to protect their son! It was obvious they were pissed about how they had treated the freak before abandoning him. He had wondered once or twice about what had happened to the freak, but always brushed it aside, he wasn't worth the thoughts. Petunia even confided in him one night about fearing repercussions for it, but he had told her it was fine, no one was looking for the boy. He didn't know if these people knew him, but from the way the family talked, he was starting to think the parents were freakish serial killers and now they were passing the torch!
"Shut up," Harry sneered, "You deserve everything coming to you."
"Please," Petunia finally spoke, pleading as she sobbed tearlessly. "I just want to go home, I am sorry for whatever you think we did, I am sorry if you have us mistaken for someone else, and I am sorry that you are angry. But please, my son, my Dudders. I just want to go home to him."
"Stop that Pet!" Vernon thundered, sounding much like his old self. "We do not grovel at the feet of freaks! I was right all along, they are dangerous monsters! They will be sorry for even daring to breathe our air. Chester and Quentin will find us and shoot these kidnapping fuckers on sight!"
Tom erupted into laughter. "I am sorry, do you honestly think anyone has any inkling of where you are?" He had to stop to take a breath, "This house cannot be found by Muggles, nor anyone who wishes my family harm. The wards protecting this Manor are far stronger than any pretend magic you have in your stories."
"Now, Harry," Tom turned to his son, "are you ready?" Harry grinned, his Avada green eyes twinkling as he raised his wand in place of answering. He looked at Vernon and with a quick 'Finite Incantatem' the blindfold slipped off his eyes. The muggle man blinked furiously as he adjusted to the bright light of the room. He could see Petunia to his left, ramrod straight, blindfold still on. To his right was John, and then his wife next to him. They all appeared to be stuck the same way as he was. Hesitantly he looked up to see the family before him.
They were all captivating, the blonde woman and brunette man who had kidnapped them still looking as beautiful as the first time he saw them. Surely it was part of their freakishness, to help lure unsuspecting honest and decent people to their death. Once as a teenager, he had heard myths of demons who used their power and alluring looks to suck the life out of humans. Incubus and Succubus, he wondered if that was what this family was. The only other freaks he had had the displeasure of meeting, his wife's sister Lily, her husband James and their friends Sirius, Remus and Peter had all been just as bewitching.
It was then his eyes focused on the young girl and boy, standing in front of their parents. They were young, maybe around the same age as his son Dudley. Although it made sense the freaks would train their spawn young, if you wanted to be the most dangerous animal in the world, it must take practice and training. Both children had soft chestnut brown hair, the perfect combination of their Mothers blonde and father's dark brown. They also both had striking green eyes, glinting dangerously in the sunlight. But the boy seemed to have his mother's soft face, while his sister had their father's sharpness. No matter how hard he racked his brain, he just couldn't place them. The mother mentioned earlier that he had abused her child, which was preposterous, he had never met these freaks, of that he was sure. It was an embarrassingly long time before he noticed the wood in the boy's hand, pointed at him. Fuck.
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