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"I am Talking."
'I am Thinking'
Spells
One of the main effects of war, after all, is that people are discouraged from being characters.
~Kurt Vonnegut
INNOVATOR
-Dev Sagittarius Black
~~Chapter 29: The Aftermath~~
.
"There are a million things to talk about, and yet, I don't have the words to express how I feel…" Dumbledore sighed, his watery eyes scanning every face that was present in the Great Hall. None of them had the glimmer of hope or joy that they had when the day had begun, as none had predicted how the day would end.
"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but first, I must acknowledge the loss that we have suffered. Today during the attack on Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, seventeen of our friends, acquaintances, and someone's family left us to venture on their next great adventure."
"Therefore, I would like you all, please, to stand, raise your glasses, and maintain a small silence for their souls to attain peace in the afterlife," the Headmaster raised his goblet, and everyone followed suit.
After a few minutes, everyone settled down once more, and Dumbledore began, "It doesn't matter whether we knew the departed closely or if they were a mere acquaintance in our memories; it has affected all of us in ways that nothing could cure. I think you have the right to know exactly how it came about."
Several members of the Order who were inside Hogwarts tensed at that. This was something that would definitely cause chaos not only in Wizarding Britain but throughout the entire Wizarding World.
Dumbledore only looked at Harry, the boy who sat on the Ravenclaw table with his friends around him. Both the mages shared a look that might not seem much to an outsider, but those who knew about what had happened in Hogsmeade already knew that the venereal Headmaster had made up his mind.
"The attack on Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, which cost us the lives of seventeen of our students as well as rendering many more under the care of our healer, was planned and executed by Dark Lord Voldemort."
Gasps echoed throughout the Great Hall as both students and adults took in the news. There were many who had left the village before the Dark Lord's arrival, and then there were some who hadn't been able to go to Hogsmeade. This news was both a shock and a warning to them.
Everyone had heard the name of the Dark Lord; even the muggleborns who were newly inculcated into the Wizarding World knew about the most evil Dark Lord in a century. Therefore, to even think that such a man had returned from the dead and was actively planning and killing people was most definitely a threat to everyone who didn't support him.
Harry saw the elder Slytherins smirk in response to Dumbledore's announcement. He was sure that most of them would immediately write back to their homes, and by the year's end, they would proudly flex the Dark Mark on their arm. What a disgrace to humanity, the whole lot!
"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "will try to do its level best to suppress this news in the name of maintaining peace and harmony in the country. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies and that any attempt to pretend that he is not back and the deaths of our loved ones were merely an accident, or as an attempt at power by the dark forces on their own, is an insult to their memories."
Every face present in the hall looked at the aged warlock, who stood at the podium with a somber expression on his wrinkled face. Harry, on the other hand, felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned to see Blaise, who was pointing towards someone on the Slytherin table.
The innovator's eyes flashed in anger when he saw Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table talking with Pansy and smirking at the Headmaster, while his girlfriend giggled at something he had said.
'Malfoy sure looks more happy than usual…' Harry knew that the git had been there when Voldemort was reincarnated by Lucius and Bellatrix, which obviously meant that the stuck-up ponce already knew about the Dark Lord and possibly the attack as well.
"There is someone else who must be mentioned in connection with Voldemort's attack." Dumbledore looked at Harry once more. "After a short break of one and a half months for personal reasons, Harry Potter returned to Hogwarts and had been an instrumental figure in not only saving us from the Dementors that were used but also defeating Lord Voldemort in a battle to the death."
Every eye fell on the man of the hour, some with admiration, others with surprise, and a few with wariness. On the other hand, Harry didn't bother to acknowledge any of the reactions that his presence had garnered from the Hogwarts populace; he just gave a single nod to the Headmaster to show his appreciation.
The student population at Hogwarts had been quite surprised when they saw Harry Potter, of all people, enter through the gates. What was even more shocking was the presence of an unconscious Daphne Greengrass that he was carrying in his arms.
Before anyone could've said anything, Angelina Johnson had taken control of the group and taken all the injured ones to the hospital wing to get treated. Harry had followed them in complete silence while McGonagall removed the lockdown and chatted with Johnson regarding the events that took place after her departure from the battlefield.
After a tense few hours in which Madam Pomfrey treated most of the minor injuries and sent the students back to their dorms, Dumbledore had called everyone to the Great Hall for an important announcement.
"Harry's presence on the battlefield, as well as his victory, is a strong proclamation of the fact that Voldemort is not invincible. A boy, mere fifteen years old, had been able to not only push the Dark Lord on his backfoot but also brutally defeat him. Something that had once been considered impossible," Dumbledore praised Harry, keeping his own role in the entire debacle as small as possible.
"But as the saying goes, alone we can do so little; together we can do so much." The Warlock looked at his Order members and fellow staff for a moment. "I would like to acknowledge the strength and willpower inside each of our protectors who stood in the way of the dark forces and defeated them so that we could live once more. Each and every one of the protectors of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, be it a student, a teacher, or a civilian, has my utmost respect for choosing to do the right thing instead of the easy one."
"Therefore, I would like all of us to once again, please, raise our glasses in the honor of everyone who protected us from harm and danger." With that, Dumbledore raised his goblet, which was followed by three-fourths of the Hogwarts population. The only ones who hadn't done anything were the Slytherins and a few others.
"The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding and the bond between the three schools. In the light of what has happened, such ties are more important than ever before," he continued with a somber expression.
"Every guest in this hall, be it a student of the three schools, a civilian, or a teacher," said Dumbledore as his eyes scanned the public that sat attentively, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come to us. I say to you all, once again — in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as united, as weak as we are divided."
"Therefore," he sighed, "it is prudent and beneficial for us to forget the animosity we once held amongst us and focus on strengthening our relations to support each other in the hard times that are — once again — on our doorsteps."
"Some of you in this hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn apart. It is my belief, for that reason, that we need to remember who we are and what we are facing. Do not forget the loved ones, and always remember the ones who died to protect the ones they loved. Do not pity the dead, children. Pity the living and, above all, those who live without love."
Dumbledore took a last look at the solemn faces in front of him before he canceled the sonorous spell on his throat and stepped down from the podium. As if on cue, the teachers as well as the students broke into whispers. He saw a few of them crying over their losses, a few who supported others.
And then, there were a few who smiled at the former ones in unrestrained glee before they left the Great Hall and moved towards the dungeons.
After Dumbledore left the Great Hall, Harry stood from his seat along with Blaise and Fleur. The part-veela hugged him once more, thanking him repeatedly for what he did today, as she was quite sure that if not for him, her friend and her sister would probably be dead by now.
"You know, she was really worried," Blaise spoke as they watched her leave the Great Hall. "The second task of the tournament is in two days, and Fleur was worried that the task would put her sister in danger. Therefore, instead of going to Hogsmeade, she had spent all her time researching combat spells in the library."
Harry hummed in response as he moved through the crowd with his friend. He knew that, because of all that had happened with him, he had actually forgotten that the rest of Hogwarts was still celebrating the Triwizard Tournament.
"What about you?"
"I, too, had decided to help her out." Blaise blushed a bit. "So, both of us were in the library when the attack happened. It was probably a safe place too, because no one would have expected students to spend their day in a library when they could just enjoy Hogsmeade weekend."
"Probably a good thing; otherwise, your lives would've been in danger," Harry admitted as they left the Great Hall. He was quite aware of all the stares that were sent his way; most of them were still shocked that someone their age had fought and defeated Lord Voldemort.
"Mr. Potter?"
The two were stopped by the squeaky voice of their head of Hogwarts house, Filius Flitwick. The diminutive professor had apparently rushed down the stairs to reach them.
"Yes, sir?"
"The Headmaster has summoned you, and, as your head of house, I have been sent to accompany you till his office," Flitwick admitted with an unreadable expression.
"I'll go to the hospital wing," Blaise told him. "Find me there, alright?"
The two shared a nod before the heir to the Zabini fortune left his friend and followed others who were leaving for the hospital wing.
"I heard what you did for us, Mr. Potter," Flitwick said after a few tense moments in their walk. "I am ashamed to admit that I hadn't been able to help you or others in Hogsmeade. The Death Eaters that had infiltrated Hogwarts were a bit too much to handle, even with others' help."
"You were needed here, sir," Harry said with a small smile to encourage the half-goblin. "I am quite sure that if not for you and your prowess, we would've suffered a lot more casualties in the form of Hogwarts students, maybe even a member of the staff as well. So, please, sir, don't underestimate the help that you provided."
"Your words give me relief, Harry – can I call you Harry?" After Harry nodded, Filius continued, "As Albus had said, when the day had begun, I had been quite happy. In fact, I had a small talk with Minerva regarding one of our students who had started to show some improvement lately. And yet, at that time, I didn't even know how things would end up for the student."
Harry didn't know what to say; he knew that it was quite possible that the student Flitwick was talking about was dead by now. What he didn't understand was why the charms professor needed to say something like this. It wasn't like he was the professor's friend or even a close confidant with whom he would want to share such things.
"You are probably wondering why I am telling this to you, right, Harry?" Flitwick smiled at him, though he could see that the smile didn't reach the professor's eyes. "Throughout my Hogwarts tenure — first as a student and then as a professor — only one of my claws had died before today. You might even know her as her ghost haunts the second-floor girls bathroom."
"I do, sir," Harry agreed. "Myrtle, right?"
"Indeed." The half-goblin sighed. "I was heartbroken when I saw her dead body in that stall, the way her parents held her corpse and cried to the heavens. My heart wrenched when I saw that, and through it all, Myrtle stood there, not even able to hug them or tell them that she was there."
"Today, I have lost a few of my claws again, Harry." The two went up the stairs towards the floor that led to Dumbledore's office. "And once more, I had just met all the parents who had arrived at Hogwarts to collect the dead bodies of their children. All of them were muggles, Harry… all of them."
Harry didn't say anything, he just watched as Flitwick spoke his heart out, "These children — especially the Muggleborns — they come to us, so happy and excited to study something life changing like magic, and we failed to protect them against those who judged them on the basis of their blood status."
A single drop of tear rolled down his cheek and fell on the stone floor as Flitwick gulped down his emotions. He was trying his level best to control himself and not break down in front of his prized student. He saw a handkerchief in his field of vision and immediately took it to wipe his wet eyes.
"Thank you," the charms professor released a deep breath as they continued their journey. "My goblin heritage, the one that I have always been proud of, wants me to punish the perpetrator. To kill him, make him suffer for what he did, and torture him before he dies. But, the wizard part, and my position as the professor of Hogwarts, stops me from doing so."
They reached the gargantuan griffin gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. Flitwick gave the password, which was 'Ice Mice', and the two watched as the gargoyle shifted to reveal the staircase leading to the office.
"This is where I take my leave, Harry." Flitwick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "If there's anything that I could do for you, don't hesitate to ask. Alright?"
"I will, sir." Harry nodded before he stopped the man. "And sir… Voldemort will reveal himself once more, and he will keep on doing that repeatedly till he is either destroyed or he destroys those who stand against him, and, even though I don't want you to do so, I am sure you will get another chance to face him."
"That is quite expected of him, Harry," His head of house agreed, "But when I said the 'perpetrator', I hadn't meant the Dark Lord; I had meant someone else."
"But, it was Voldemort who attacked Hogsmeade, these were his Death Eaters that are responsible for all the deaths inside and out of the school, sir."
"Always remember that the damage done by the insider is more severe than the one received from the actual enemy, Harry." Flitwick shook his head.
"You mean someone from inside was involved in the Death Eaters attacks?" Harry narrowed his eyes at the professor who nodded.
"The one who had actually opened the doors from inside Hogwarts," Flitwick replied, his eyes changing from tearful to smoldering infernoes at the mere thought of that person. "The one person who is responsible for letting the Death Eaters inside the school is still unpunished! And Albus isn't doing anything about it!"
Harry frowned at that. He had assumed that the Dark Lord had somehow infiltrated Hogwarts with sheer power, but it seemed like he had been wrong.
"Who?"
"Draco Malfoy."
Harry knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office twice before he heard a muffled 'Come in, Harry' from behind it. The Innovator shook his head at the subtle display of power and control that the headmaster showed with the help of a small charm that was used in the doormat, which sensed the user above it and told the person inside the office.
The office was still the same as he had always remembered it — cluttered and yet somehow organized at the same time. Books, parchments, and various trinkets lined the shelves that surrounded the office, alongside portraits of all the previous headmasters.
"You look well, Potter," Phineas Nigellus said from his portrait.
"Thank you. You as well, great-grandfather." Harry nodded at the former Headmaster, who had taken a liking to Harry once he came to know that the boy was his little Dorea's grandson.
"When are you going to fulfill my request?" Phineas asked him, and the surrounding portraits rolled their eyes. "I need someone to hold an intelligent conversation with me; Albus is boring."
"I heard that, Phineas," Dumbledore responded from his seat while stroking his phoenix's plumage.
"You were meant to," Phineas responded before he fixed his gray eyes at his great-grandson, "Take my portrait to your room as soon as you can."
"I will... see what I can do for you," The Innovator agreed before he left the portrait and went towards Dumbledore, who was waiting for him.
Dumbledore waited for Harry to take a seat. There were more than a few things that he wanted to discuss with the boy, and he also wanted to see how much the training had changed the boy from his past self.
"So, the investigations went well, sir?" Harry asked the old man who nodded.
"Madam Bones has received the detailed account of the attack, as well as memories from the witnesses. I am sure that Voldemort cannot keep hiding anymore, even if Cornelius tries his best to deny it."
"As if he could," The boy scoffed, "Our dear Minister can, at most, agree that Voldemort has indeed returned, or he could resign from his office at once. I will ask Sirius to put a no-confidence motion if the Ministry ends up becoming a nuisance."
"I don't think that will be needed, Harry," Dumbledore told him, "With the unfortunate number of deaths today, and the twelve unconscious Death Eaters that have been taken into the Ministry cell. I am sure that Amelia would force Cornelius into accepting what has been in front of his eyes the whole time."
"If you say so, sir." Harry shrugged. "But if you need any help regarding the Minister, don't hesitate. Another war is at our doorsteps, and we cannot win if the leader of the country is basically an over-glorified ostrich."
Dumbledore couldn't help but smile a bit at the apt description of Cornelius Fudge, he knew that the Minister — no matter how much of a bubbling buffoon — was smart enough to know his limits, and what to do to keep himself in a position of power.
"Now, first of all, let me personally thank you for helping me in the battle against Tom; if it wasn't for you, I am quite sure that I would've died, and it is possible that in our absence, he would've raided the school as well."
"You were holding the fort well, sir." Harry nodded. "Don't sell yourself short; even without the wand, you are still one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world, something that even your enemies respect and fear."
Dumbledore acknowledged the statement with a small smile. "I have a few things that I would like to discuss with you, Harry. Things that have happened in your absence."
"What are they?"
Dumbledore opened the side drawer and pulled out two leather bags from the rack. "Both bags contain a Horcrux each. I have received them from different means and people, but I am sure that they are definitely a part of his soul."
Harry eyed the bags; they were the expensive curse-resistant ones that he had seen Dumbledore use when he had gone to retrieve the Horcrux that was present in the Gaunt's shack. To even think that the psychopath had made seven such abominations was unbelievable, and yet the proof was right in front of his eyes.
"If what you say is true, then this means we only have one Horcrux left to look for, right?" Harry asked the old man as he calculated the Horcruxes once more. "And one that I have been working on to destroy without killing the vessel."
He had destroyed the diary in his third year, then there was the ring, the snake had been used in the ritual to strengthen Voldemort's return to his physical self, there was another one in Alandale's scar, and now, there were two of his soul pieces in front of him. That meant there was only one more left.
"About that…" Dumbledore interrupted, "I think we should check Alan's conditions once more because, after you left for the Guild, there were a few things that happened with him, and it's my presumption that they have cleansed the scar."
Harry blinked at that, this was the first time that he learned of something like this. Well, to be honest, Alan's case was something that hadn't been seen anyway. A Horcrux was a rarity as it is; therefore, to have a living one was like a one-in-a-million chance.
So, it wasn't like he had any proof of what should and shouldn't happen to a living Horcrux. Still, the possibility of a soul piece vanishing on its own after thirteen years was almost unbelievable. If Voldemort's soul piece had to vanish, then why did it not happen for the last thirteen years?
"Personally, I think there are two possibilities for that to happen." Dumbledore said, "We know that the last thing Alan did when he was conscious was fight you in the Chamber under the possession of Voldemort, right? So, it's quite possible that Tom has completed the possession and killed Alan's soul. Or—"
" —it's possible that Alan defeated him instead, right?" Harry completed the statement.
"Indeed." The Headmaster nodded. "As much as it seems unbelievable, we have to remember that the Prophecy did say that both Tom and Alan would be equals."
There was a momentary pause as Harry weighed the pros and cons of such a development. He knew that he had asked Highmaster Atticus to devise a ritual that would help them extract the soul piece from Alan's scar. Therefore, if the new development was true, he didn't need to work on the extra project that he had been working on.
"What do you say, Harry?" Dumbledore asked the boy.
"I think we should tie Alan first and keep a vial of Draught of Living Death ready before administering the Wiggenweld potion to counter the effects of the previous draught."
"And when, do you suppose, we should do this?"
Harry thought for some time before another thought struck his mind, "When is the next task of Triwizard? As much as I remember, Alan is still a participant, and not performing in the tournament's task would take his magic away, right?"
"You would be correct, but due to the attack that happened today, the second task has been postponed to the last week of February." Dumbledore sighed. "I had a meeting with the tournament officials, and this is what we agreed to do. I wanted to cancel the tournament completely, but once it has begun, the tournament cannot be canceled until the final task has been completed."
"Alright then, tomorrow I will accompany you, and we will see whether Alandale Potter is actually Alan or if he has lost his body to Voldemort." The two decided before Harry motioned for Dumbledore to continue.
"If Alan has truly defeated Voldemort, then all we need to do is destroy these two Horcruxes and find the last one."
"Any idea where it could be?"
All that Harry received was a knowing smile from the aged warlock, which shouted that yes, Dumbledore did have an idea about where the last Horcrux could be. And now all they needed to do was go to that place and destroy it.
"Now, was there anything else that you needed to discuss, Headmaster?" Harry asked the man, who shook his head.
"There is, but I think we have discussed enough things for now, and the rest of the less important matters could rest for a few more days." Dumbledore admitted, "Now, I have a meeting with a few members of the ministry; they want a detailed account of what happened today."
"Well then, we should wind up this small talk of ours, shouldn't we?" Harry replied. "But before we do, I would like to know something."
"I am all ears."
"I would like to know whether you know how the Death Eaters got inside the school in the first place." Harry asked the old man. "Because if we have to be ready for the upcoming war, then we must make sure that the castle is protected from all sides so that what happened today can't be repeated in the future."
Dumbledore sighed as he removed his spectacles. "I do, Harry. And trust me when I say that what happened today was a one-time mistake that will not be repeated."
"Then, I suppose you plan on taking some sort of action against the perpetrator, sir?"
"Tom always had a method of utilizing the capabilities of all of his followers, Harry," the warlock replied. "Sometimes the followers don't even know what they are doing till it's very late and they can't step back anymore."
"This is one of the scenarios where what has happened can't be undone, professor." Harry narrowed his eyes. "And the perpetrator is roaming freely, laughing at those who have lost their loved ones today. I don't think you should use Voldemort's ideals and methods as a defense for what he knowingly did."
"He is a misguided child, Harry. Nothing more." Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, "He was being used as a tool by Tom, and I don't think he even understood the consequences of his actions."
"Then, you do know who he is, and yet, I suppose, you are planning on letting him live unpunished?" The Innovator's blood started to boil when Dumbledore agreed.
"It is not our job to punish people, Harry," Dumbledore told him. "In times like these, we need to strengthen our bonds, so that the weak ones can be saved from falling completely to the Dark side."
"Draco Malfoy is responsible for letting the Death Eaters inside Hogwarts, professor," Harry hissed. "That boy was laughing in the Great Hall when everyone else was crying for their friends. He doesn't care about others, sir; when will you see that he has already succumbed?!"
"He is a victim of Voldemort's manipulation, Harry." Dumbledore shook his head. "He is nothing more than a misguided child who—"
"That 'misguided' child is responsible for the deaths of thirteen muggleborn children, sir. Not to mention all those who were sent to Madam Pomfrey to be healed," Harry interrupted him. "I don't suppose this deserves a punishment, right? After all, he's just a 'misguided' child."
Dumbledore looked down in shame. He knew that Harry was right; the young Malfoy was indeed responsible for all the muggleborn deaths that had happened inside Hogwarts today and all the ones who had been tortured in the common room, but there was nothing he could do regarding that.
"I am afraid I can't do anything, Harry." Dumbledore confessed, "Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, lives inside the castle, and I have given her my word that both she and her son would stay safe throughout the war. Therefore, all I can do for you is restrict Mr. Malfoy's movements inside the castle."
"As if that had helped before," Harry sneered. "He would just find a loophole or wait for an opportune moment to escape unnoticed, and we would not be able to do anything to stop him from reaching Malfoy Manor."
"Then, you already know that my hands are bound," the elder man said softly. "I am sorry, my boy."
"...I see…" Harry sighed before he abruptly stood up from his seat. "Then, we don't have anything else to talk about, sir. I will join you tomorrow morning when we have to check on Alan."
Dumbledore didn't say anything. He knew that the boy was angry, and when Harry was angry, it was quite a well-known fact to just let him do what he wanted to.
"If there is anything else?" Harry asked from the doorway.
"Nothing for now," the Headmaster said, shaking his head. "I will tell you when I am about to embark in search of the last Horcrux. I hope that you will accompany me."
Harry just gave a single nod before he left the office. After all, there was no real need to stay there anymore. He had work to do, people to meet, and a certain boy to punish.
The cold stone floor and metal around his wrists were the first things Lucius Malfoy felt when he slowly regained consciousness. He raised his hand to rub the crust from his eyes, only to feel the clanking of metal chains.
"Wha—" Lucius slowly opened his eyes, and in the dim light of the torches, he took a look at his hand.
There was definitely an iron handcuff on his wrist, attached to a thick metal chain that went inside the wall behind him. He slowly rose from his prone position on the ground as he examined the chain and the handcuff.
Only to find that his other hand was tied similarly and that he didn't have his wand with him.
"What the…"
'How did this happen?' Malfoy thought as he examined the metal chains. He looked around himself, only to see that he was somewhere in a dungeon with iron bars in front of him, a small door, and nothing else. There was also a dimly lit corridor in front of his cell, where the flickering light from the torches cast shadows on the ground.
Malfoy groaned when he remembered the last thing that he did when he was conscious. He had been tasked with locating his wife, Narcissa, and then beating the location of the Dark Lord's prized artifact out of her before taking her to Malfoy Manor so that his master could punish her himself.
But then, on the way to his wife's residence, he encountered Peeves, who had halted him enough for Sirius bloody Black to sneak up on him and...
"That would explain why I am here." Lucius frowned a bit. He knew that he was in some sort of dungeon, probably one that was used by the Black Family in the nineteenth century for torturing their enemies, given the state it was in.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the corridor ahead of his cell, and Lucius knew that it was time to get answers for his current condition. He sat up straighter in the cell; the chains didn't provide much mobility, but whatever they allowed, it was enough to at least sit comfortably.
Soon enough, Sirius Black's face came into his view, and Lucius narrowed his eyes at the grin of the Cheshire cat that graced Lord Black's face.
"It seems that you were doing something fun, Black," Lucius sneered.
"Yeah, I was busy with a few women that wanted a happy time." Sirius smirked at the pissed-off Malfoy. "Now, I didn't know what you expected after you woke up, but I am sure that whatever you want or need can be found here in this cell."
"I don't want anything from this… place; what I—"
"Well, that's good; you aren't getting anything either." Sirius shrugged.
" —want is for you to tell me why I am here?" Lucius narrowed his eyes.
"Hmm, I guess I could tell you that much…" Sirius made a thinking posture before he grinned, "You're here because my employer wanted me to capture you."
"...your employer?" Lucius blinked. "The Black of the Blacks, Lord Sirius Black, is doing a fucking job under someone?! And that too — kidnapping?! Is this what has happened to the once noble house of the Blacks?!"
"You talk too much for someone who just realized that he has been captured by his enemies." Sirius shook his head as if he were disappointed. "And no, this isn't a job — as you put it — call it a gift. You are a gift for my employer."
"Your master, Dumbledore, is too soft and good-hearted to ask you to do something like this, Black." he smirked. "I'll be free before you know it."
"I am confused, Lucy." Sirius frowned. "Who told you that my employer is Albus Dumbledore? I don't follow the old man because I have to; I follow him because he's at least working against scum like you, but no, he's not my employer."
"Then who is it?"
"Don't worry, you'll meet him soon." Sirius smirked. "He has waited for quite some time to meet you, Malfoy. I am sure you can also spare a few hours."
"At least tell me what you want; if you think you could get the location of the Dark Lord or anything else, then you're mistaken because I am not going to—"
"Tell us anything? Yeah, we know that." Sirius nodded. "Well, it's a good thing that we don't need it then. To be honest, there isn't anything that a useless piece of scum could give us anyway."
"Then why not release me?" Lucius smirked. "If you already know that I won't be of any use to you, especially since people will start searching for me soon enough, Then how long do you think you can keep me trapped here?"
"Well, that's not for me to decide, Malfoy." Sirius smirked back. "You are here on the orders of my employer, and you will be released once he deems you worthy enough. And as for people missing you… DOBBY!"
There was a small 'pop' sound, and the summoned elf stood in the dimly lit corridor. He looked around himself before his eyes focused on his former master, who was chained to a wall.
"What can Dobby do for the youthful and most handsome Master Black?"
"I am happy that you remembered how you should address me, Dobby." Sirius chuckled a bit before he pointed towards the trapped Malfoy. "You remember that guy? Here's what you have to do."
At first, Lucius was intrigued as to what Sirius had ordered his former elf to do, but when he saw the maniacal glint in the already crazy house-elf's eyes, something inside him screamed in fear.
The door to his cell opened, and his captors entered the cell. The mad glint in Dobby's eyes worried him more than the glare in Black's. There was definitely something planned for him — something that would cause him pain.
"Wh-what are you two doing?!" Lucius involuntarily slid a bit back. "You know you can't do anything to me. I will be free soon, and then, yo-you will be punished by the Dark Lord. I will personally see to it! I will!"
"Yeah? Then maybe we should make our probable punishments worth it, right, Dobby?" Sirius clenched his fingers into a fist as he came near Lucius.
"Dobby thinks Master Black is absolutely correct." Dobby nodded, snapped his fingers, and conjured a small wooden stool that was placed near Lucius.
"What do you mean?! No!" Lucius shrieked, "Stay away from me!"
The first punch that came from Sirius shook the Malfoy Lord to the core. What was more worrying was that he was obviously not done yet.
"THIS IS FOR MY GODSON, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Sirius shouted as he punched Malfoy's nose again. "Dobby! Start pulling his hair one by one, make it so that he feels it repeatedly."
"Wha—" Lucius shook his head, trying his best to remove the dizziness, when he felt a sharp pain in his scalp. "What the… why are you doing this?"
"The punch was for my screwing with my godson, and the hairs are obviously for polyjuice potion. After all, we do need to get you to make public appearances every now and then."
Sirius laughed harder as Dobby kept on pulling Lucius' luscious blonde hair one by one. Now all he needed to do was wait for his employer to come and receive the gift that he had wanted for the last five years.
'Well… I am sure I can have fun with my favorite punch bag till then…' Sirius smirked and punched the elder Malfoy once more.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
(Because of such a cruel and saddening chapter, here's a small fun Omake for you, requested by one of my readers.)
.
The manor was silent and peaceful, and the master, who had taken a residence in the manor, was sleeping peacefully in the master bedroom, dreaming about the Potter brothers and the day he would kill them both to secure his victory.
Both of them had been a nuisance to him, much like an annoying fly that just wouldn't die. What a shame it was that he had to kill them, because he knew that one of the brothers, Alandale, was a Parselmouth like him, and the other one was Harry Potter, the most powerful mage of his generation.
Unfortunately, his happy dream broke when he felt cold hands crawling on his body. At first, he presumed it to be some sort of illusion because he knew that no one could enter the room until he gave permission. But then the hands started moving from side to side and then around his chest.
"What the…" Voldemort opened his eyes and glared at the being that stood in front of him. "Who are you?! HOW DID YOU EVEN GET HERE?!"
The being chuckled, "Who am I? Ah, Tom, you know me quite well already; I never thought I would have to give an introduction."
Voldemort frowned a bit; he didn't know anyone who looked like the person who stood near his bed. In fact, he didn't know anyone who could trespass on all the security measures and sneak up on him like this. And they also knew his real name?!
"Well, you're dumb, Tom." The entity shook its head as if it were disappointed. "I am the one being that you've been running away from."
Volde– Tom's eyes widened in shock. "De-Death?"
"BINGO!" Death chuckled. "Now, stay still and let me finish my work in peace," Death muttered and started moving its cold hands along Voldemort's body once more.
"HEY! Get away from me!" Tom shrieked, "What are you doing here?"
"I am doing my work, of course." The entity sighed once more. "You cute little Dark Lords think that all I do is reap souls, but... well, yeah, I do that, but it's a process, you see."
"Process?"
"Yes! A process." Death smiled. "I need to make a coffin for the special souls who have given me trouble, and to make sure that the coffin fits you, I will need measurements."
"..."
"..."
"...What?"
"What? You want to go in a coffin that's too small? And don't get me started on a large coffin; the souls rock too much inside it." Death shook its head sadly.
"BUT I AM NOT DYING! I AM LORD VOLDEMORT! IMMORTAL LORD—"
*Smack!*
Voldemort blinked in absolute shock as he rubbed his cheek. This was the first time that someone had actually slapped him in the face.
"Immortal, my ass, your time is coming closer, you delusional freak." Death bonked him again. "Now, just shut up and let me get the measurements. I don't want to spend extra time on you, I have better people waiting in line."
Voldemort didn't even know what was happening. All he knew was that Death was taking measurements for his coffin… and… what again?
Ending Note:Thank-you for not reviewing my story. Glad that I don't have to worry about reviews, flames and what not.
Also, if you actually want to read the next three chapters (where we have entered pre-finale arc) and see all the character sketches...they are available on my p -treon.
www. p a treon .c-o-m / DevSagittariusBlack
(Remove the spaces and delete the '-', obviously) Link is also present on my profile.
To get access to the chapters, sneak peeks and all the character sketches, you can also join my discord server:
Beware: Loads of NSFW (Yes, Porn, and lots of it. Lol)
discord . gg / Gcbcv4dxGx (remove the spaces)
Name: Dev Black's Empire