Chapter 13

6th of December 2006
Island of Polyphemus

In a military helicopter painted a striking shade of purple and enveloped by vines, stood Medusa, The Queen of Spades. Her curvaceous body was accentuated by a form-fitting latex suit, and behind stylish sunglasses, her gaze held a captivating confidence. Serpents, her living crown, coiled with latent danger in her hair. She was surrounded by twelve satyrs, clad in modern commando outfits and led by Hodge.

Medusa's voice, cool and collected, cut through the air, "It's all good. We have an infrared visual confirmation. The poisoning of his only water source has worked. Polyphemus is dead."

As her command echoed, the satyrs prepared for the next phase. Medusa, with a nod, signaled their descent from the purple-painted helicopter. Hodges, bellowing orders, emphasized the urgency, as the Satyrs started to jump.

"Bring the fleece back as fast as possible! Go! GO! GO!"

Medusa sighed as one Satyr jumped without a parachute. The satyrs were nice and efficient, but sometimes…It was really time to recruit for her Hit Squad.

12th of December 2006
Hogwarts

Fleur was fed up. The eighteen-year-old Veela had scoured the castle from top to bottom looking for Lord Dio Ravenclaw, but had been unable to find him. She intended to invite the man - who must be about ten years her senior - to the Yule Ball. Of course he would accept. Because if she was the one waiting for him to invite her…Well…

Fleur stopped dead in her tracks. She could have sworn there hadn't been a door here the last three times she'd passed through this corridor. Clusters of grapes adorned the door, defying the norms of reality with their perpetually ripe and ever-shifting colors of deep purples and greens. The wood of the door bore carved forms of jaguars who gracefully prowled within the woodwork. They seemed ready to leap into the corridor. What was this door ? And why did she feel attracted to it? As Fleur put her hear on the door, it emitted a soft hum, resonating with a magical energy that seemed to dance with the laughter of unseen satyrs. The air carried a sweet aroma of grapes, as she opened the door.

Fleur turned the handle and stepped through the door.

A garden.

Why was a garden in the middle of Hogwarts ?

The air was thick with the intoxicating scent of exotic blossoms,. The tree formed a graceful canopy overhead. The river that meandered through the heart of the garden contained deep, velvety red wine. Along its banks, fruits emitted a soft, enchanting glow. In the midst of the lush vegetation, jaguars prowled lazily. Turning her attention to the heart of the woods, Fleur's eyes widened at the mesmerizing sight of three tattooed witches engaged in a dance of sensuality. Adorned with intricate luminescent markings, their bodies moved with an otherworldly rhythm as they played, kissed, and explored each other in the middle of the river.

She recognized one of them. The mother of Daphne Greengrass, a cute little witch whom Fleur had considered inviting to the upcoming ball if Dio happened to turn down her proposal.

Her gaze then shifted to a captivating sight at the heart of the garden – a beautiful woman with a corset made of leaves. The woman exuded an irresistible allure, her multicolored hair crowned with a regal headdress. Mesmerized, Fleur felt a magnetic pull. The woman felt like a Veela…but more. So much more.

"Ah, my wayward great great great great great great granddaughter", saluted Angele.

"Are you ready to go back to your roots?"

As the mysterious stranger gracefully rose from her seat, her movements possessed a sensual grace. Approaching Fleur with deliberate intent, she skillfully closed the distance between them. Without the need for spoken words, Angele leaned in, her lips brushing against Fleur's with a tantalizing softness. A surge of energy coursed through Fleur's veins, a potent blend of power and ancient knowledge that transcended the ordinary.

Fleur
Lesser Witch-Maenad

Awakening
Lvl 9/50 → Lvl 9/100

17th of December 2006
Nurmengard

Nurmengard, perched atop a mountain, boasted a formidable stone fortress with a tower crowned by a distinctive cone-shaped top and an adjoining slim building adorned with windows. Dionysos teleported into the so-called "best prison," clad in a striking yellow electric suit that contrasted sharply with the fortress's somber tones.

Uh. The wards were shitty. Fucking wizards.

Dio casually strolled through the dim corridors of Nurmengard, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. With each step, he navigated the labyrinthine passages until he reached the pinnacle – the last floor of the highest tower…by teleporting. Fuck the stairs. And there was not even an elevator. Fucking wizards.

At the end of the corridor, in a dimly lit cell, the aged Grindelwald, worn and disheveled, raised his head in surprise at the unexpected visitor. His once-proud Fedora was now marred by dirt, a stark contrast to the formidable wizard he once was.

"Who... who are you?" Grindelwald questioned, squinting to discern the figure before him. A glimmer of hope flickered in his tired eyes. "You're not Dumbledore! Please! Save me! I must stop him," he implored, desperation evident in his frail voice.

Grindenwald
Light Lord
Nice Guy and Wearer of Fedoras
Lvl 80/100

Dio, still in his vibrant yellow electric suit, responded with a casual tone, "I'm just passing through, old man. What's got you in such a state?"

Grindelwald's gravelly voice trembled as he began to unravel a tale of dark revelations. "You must listen! Dumbledore, he is a Dark Lord. He was the one that helped the Nazis, and I was the only one to see the darkness in him. He's not what he seems!"

"Dark Lord Dumbledore? That's a twist. What else you got?", Dio chuckled.

Desperation etched on his worn face, Grindelwald continued, "He sacrificed over a thousand lives in a twisted ritual, altering memories of his nefarious deeds with an enhanced Fidelius spell. And now, he wants to rule the world."

"Well, isn't that a bedtime story for the ages. What's in it for me, old man?"

"I beg you," Grindelwald implored, his voice shaking with a mix of remorse and urgency. "Open this door. I must stop him before his malevolence consumes everything. You hold the key to thwarting his twisted ambitions."

Dionysos sighed, shaking his head. "Well, old man, here I was thinking you were some badass dark wizard I could recruit to my hit squad. But no, turns out you're just a bloody white knight with a sob story."

The air thickened, and the unmistakable sound of liquid pouring filled the space. Suddenly, a torrent of wine cascaded into the cell, swiftly flooding the confined space. Caught off guard, Grindelwald struggled against the rising tide, his desperate pleas becoming indistinguishable amidst the surging flood. With an irreverent smirk, Dio observed as the cell transformed into a crimson chamber, the wine level steadily increasing. Grindelwald, the once-feared wizard, succumbed to the overwhelming tide, his struggles gradually silenced beneath the rising liquid.

"Well…Who the fuck could I recruit for my hit squad? New blood for the Queen of Spades ! Ah ! Luna? No way. I don't want to die. Yet. Fleur is going to join the Maenads, and I think Angele is also going to offer to bring the few Dionysian cult followers to the US...while leaving some here for the cult to spread…Mmmh…Ah! I know!"

20th of December 2006
Wizengamot

His Edginess Lucius Malfoy lounged in his seat within the Wizengamot, an air of calculated indifference veiling his true intentions. Whispers swirled like dark tendrils around him. Today marked a significant juncture – Lord Ravenclaw, an elusive and strange figure, would apparently grace the legislative assembly with his presence for the first time. The atmosphere crackled with intrigue as Lucius, draped in aristocratic disdain, plotted in the shadows. Today was voted the new Bills on Werewolves. And if Lord Ravenclaw came, this was his chance, the opportune moment to weave his web of deceit and beguile him.

Eyes gleaming with cunning, Lucius eagerly anticipated the game. He sought to entice, to ensnare the elusive Lord Ravenclaw in a dance of manipulation. He had heard the man was excentrique but a bit…limited and stupid. Apparently, he dressed himself in Yellow ! Yellow ! Lucius combed back his magnificent curls.

In yellow! A fundamental faux pas!

Dio Ravenclaw had apparently already created a couple of scandals at the Ministry, not least by hitting on old Griselda Marchbank, Governor of the Wizarding Examinations Authority and one of Wizengamot's elders! And he'd bedded the over a hundred and twenty years old woman! And...he wore yellow!

The tranquility of the Wizengamot hall was abruptly shattered by a sudden commotion. Shouts and exclamations erupted as all eyes turned towards the hall door. The cause of the disturbance was none other than Lord Ravenclaw, donned in Wizengamot robes, making an unexpected entrance. However, what truly bewildered the assembly were two distinct anomalies. Firstly, he was flanked by two towering figures, each over two meters tall, dressed in unconventional purple, green, and brown fatigues. Lucius Malfoy, recognizing their distinctive appearance, furrowed his brow as he identified one of them as Remus Lupin, a werewolf.

Adding to the strangeness, Dio was smiling and cordially greeting those around him, despite being entirely drenched in blood. The crimson-stained robe created a stark and unsettling contrast with the god's seemingly jovial demeanor. The Minister of Magic, Fudge, eager to brown nose, approached him.

"Are you hurt, Lord Ravenclaw ? Did these…Werewolves do something to you?"

One of the two tall guy scowled.

"Not at all! On the contrary! From what I understood, today we were dealing with the werewolf problem! So I solved it! I took those who wanted to reconnect with their wild origins to one of my estates in the US. And for the naughty puppies... "

The lord fumbled in his bag, before pulling out the bloody head of Fenrir Greyback. "I punished the bad doggies".

Everyone started screaming again.

21th December
Playboy Mansion

Romain entered the room where his father waited, cradling a stack of books in his arms. Dispensing with the formality of a knock, he interrupted Dionysus mid-Internet-shitpost, prompting the god to divert his attention.

"Ah, Romain. How are you?"

The young man's smile radiated genuine happiness, still unaccustomed to engaging in mundane conversations with his father. Yet, there was a certain joy in it.

"Listen, Dad, I'm doing great! We've kicked off filming the first MCU movie, Iron Man. Just like Stan Lee, we've secured a cameo for you in the debauchery party at the film's start. We've also wrapped up acquiring all the video game publishers you suggested. While we're still a minority at YouTube, I'm working on it with Silenus. The board has greenlit the 'creation grants' you mentioned."

Dionysus congratulated his son but redirected the conversation.

"I was asking how you're doing, not about work, my son!"

Romain's smile widened.

"Well, I'm putting on a play! In two months, we'll be staging Edmond de Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac. I'm directing and playing Cyrano!"

Dio expressed his congratulations and promised to attend the play. As he placed the stack of books on his desk, the title—'Thus Spoke Zarathustra' by F. Nietzsche—came into view.

Ehe. His newest plan to become more powerful was going to be so cool.

Christmas Eve, 2006
Three Broomsticks

Dumbeldore fumed. One of Dionysos conditions for letting them use Hogwarts was the Dumbledore could not attend the Yule Ball. What a piece of shit.

Christmas Eve, 2006
Hogwarts

Narcissa Malfoy, accompanied by her esteemed husband, Lucius, made a dignified entrance onto the Hogwarts grounds, where Lord Ravenclaw's grand Yule ball was underway, drawing high society's elite. Clad in resplendent robes, the Malfoys, in all their opulence, were transported to the castle's entrance via a Portkey, where a house elf, attired in a garb provocatively mimicking the style of a certain profession, presented a most peculiar sight.

This elf, despite being dressed as a hooker, extended a welcome with an eloquence that belied the eccentricity of their chosen ensemble.

"Dearest guests of impeccable distinction," the house elf proclaimed with an almost theatrical flourish, bowing in a manner both ceremonious and exaggerated, "pray indulge me in expressing the most sincere salutations. I welcome you in the name of the esteemed Lord Ravenclaw, may he live a long life. Your august presence here at Hogwarts imparts an ineffable grandeur upon this already magnificent evening"

Narcissa, momentarily taken aback by the incongruity between the house elf's absurd outfit and their lofty verbiage, nevertheless offered a genteel nod in acknowledgment, appreciating the unexpected charm beneath the peculiar exterior. As they proceeded towards the entrance, Narcissa's genteel facade momentarily wavered upon encountering the werewolves, stationed in military regalia as vigilant sentinels. Hmph. Creatures like that in such a noble place?

As they entered the magical Great Hall, Narcissa's eyes widened in surprise at the transformation.

The room, had been turned into a breathtaking spectacle. The Christmas decorations were anything but conventional. The hall had been enchanted to resemble a lush and enchanting forest. Narcissa noted the presence of deers and jaguars, creatures that would typically be at odds, coexisting peacefully in this magical manifestation. The sky above, an illusion created by skilled enchanters, mirrored the most stunning evening she had ever witnessed. It was a breathtaking display of celestial beauty, with stars twinkling in a dance that complemented the elegance of the enchanted forest below. It was very befitting of her station.

Yet, as her discerning eyes delved further into the scene, a peculiar sense of confusion and incredulity crept in. The grandeur of the enchanted forest was momentarily overshadowed by the guests themselves.

"Huh?" she exclaimed inwardly.

Her friends, Adrastia Zabini and Evelyn Greengrass, typically paragons of decorum, were dressed in slutty Christmas-themed outfits while giving away candies. The absurdity deepened as her gaze ascended to the very top of the Christmas tree, towering several dozen meters high, where a golden throne awaited. Perched upon it was none other than Hogwarts' champion, Luna Lovegood, incongruously disguised as a Christmas elf, munching on gingerbread. Minister Fudge was talking to a wall, and MadEye Moody was trying to flirt with a statue. A statue of a goat. In a corner of the hall, the champion of Beauxbatons was moaning while heavily kissing a beautiful and multicolor-haired woman that was draped in a dress sewn from leaves. Lord Ravenclaw was nowhere to be seen. He had not arrived yet.

Christmas Eve, 2006, Midnight
Somewhere in the Greek Underworld, ?

Dionysos steeld himself as he heard the horrible screams of agony. He couldn't afford to fail.

Well, he could, but it was better it he did not.

He continued along the winding path, lined with dead shrubs. One last turn, and he came to a large rock, about three meters by three meters. The man tied to it by four large chains immediately stopped screaming as he caught sight of the god. He smiled at him, the smile of an ideal son-in-law.

Dionysus had to admit that the guy had balls of steel. Not screaming and smiling sweetly as a vulture ate his entrails? Badass.

"Good evening, Olympian. To what do I owe the pleasure of this astonishing visit?"

Dionysos smiled, and the tortured man could not help but let a small shudder escape. That smile was too enhoutsiastic. Especially since the one smiling at him was the god of madness.

"Hello, Prometheus. I came to bargain".