"Are you ready?" Hydrus asked, looking his uncle up and down. "You sure you have everything you need?"

"The cloak is already too much," Regulus replied. "This will be my easiest mark yet."

Hydrus was impressed with the man. He might've thrown a bit of a cowardly tantrum when he first had the task pressed on him, but after some needling and doubting of his ability on Hydrus and Bella's account, he'd changed his tune. Now it was like he was the one doing his nephew a favour. Unlike the other three gathered in the foyer, he wasn't dressed to impress.

He had on a snugly-tailored set of black clothes, nothing left loose and hanging to catch on anything. His hair was pulled back into a double banded ponytail that was tucked into the collar of his shirt. Unlike most wizards who kept their wands holstered up their sleeves or in a pocket of their trousers, he had it strapped outside the sleeve of his right arm in plain sight. The cherry on top of it all was that most of him was missing thanks to the loosely bound invisibility cloak draped over his shoulders.

"Remember," Bella said. "You need to wait for Hydrus's signal. He'll—"

"Say that they'll discuss the matter later," Regulus interrupted. "I know what I'm doing, cousin."

The plan was to at least try and talk things out first. Hydrus was more than willing to offer a more than fair offer for the more than stupid cup, but should that fail, Regulus would move. From there it was on Hydrus to stall until the other man returned and tapped him on the shoulder.

Stalling for time was the easy part.

He and the vampire lord had words to share, after all.

"If we're ready, then let's get going," Sirius said. "I hate wearing this stupid thing."

Regulus cocked an eyebrow at his brother. "The sword or the rest of the get up?"

"Both."

Depending on how things were going on the deific front, bringing Sirius and the hill sword or whatever Dumbledore had called it to the meeting might be foolish. Still, it'd make getting in the door in the first place a lot less violent of an affair, and it wasn't like Hydrus was going to back down from a fight if it came to it. It was like his Dumbledore had taught him: avoid bloodshed when possible, but don't fear it.

Never fear it.

"Let's go," Hydrus said. "Regulus, pull up your hood."

Once the technically if not physically youngest one there was invisible, he apparated them away. Regulus was the only one who had been to Lord Arnold's home before, and as soon as they arrived Hydrus shook his head at the sight of it.

Just like the vampire himself, the manor looked like something out of a corny novel. It was an eyesore of bricks and wrought iron, of gargoyles and stained-glass windows. Some sort of enchantment had been cast on the land that darkened the sky and reddened the sun, turning it into a hellishly lit nightmare. If it weren't for the fact that Hydrus had seen what the end of the world actually looked like, he might've even been impressed.

"Let's get this over with," he said, wrapping his arm into Bellatrix's. "Come on, Sirius."

They made their way to the front doors, but just when his father reached out to grab hold of the knocker, they swung open with a creaking screech.

'Fucking hell,' Hydrus thought. 'Could he be any more of a stereotype.'

As it turned out, Lord Arnold could. The interior of the manor was exactly what he'd expected from the outside, no light aside from dimly lit braziers. Suits of armour were lined up along the walls of the oversized foyer. An unlit chandelier hung above the centre of the room. Hydrus wasn't sure what the point of the thing was if they weren't going to even bother stocking it with candles, but he did know he wasn't going to be walking directly under it and finding out.

One of the suits of armour came to life and marched forward until it was standing directly across from them in front of the door leading deeper into the manor. It turned on its heel like a parading soldier and clapped its heels together in a clamorous clang. The visor of its helmet swung open, revealing an empty void.

"Lord Black, Heir Black, Lady Black." It was Arnold's voice, echoing out of the contraption. "Welcome to my home. Your presence is no longer needed."

"Is that right?" Hydrus asked. "Strange, you were making such a scene yesterday."

"I have received revelations," Arnold said. "Lord Black is not to be involved with our work any further, and you are no longer Magic's chosen."

"That doesn't change the past though." He began to slowly pour his magic into the room. "Now, let us in, before I shatter the illusion of control you have over this situation."

"…Very well." The armour turned and opened the door. "You may enter."

As they began making their way down the hall, which was covered in more braziers and had more suits of armour lining the walls, Bella leaned into his ear.

"What a bore," she muttered. "And this decor is a century out of date."

"Just the one?" Hydrus snarked back. "This place looks like something out of the mediaeval era."

"Which came back a century ago," Bella insisted. "You really must learn these things."

"I really musn't."

Sirius snorted and Bella shot him glare. "You stay out of this."

Before any true arguing could begin, they reached another set of double doors which were opened by a maid and butler on the other side. The servile duo were both bowing with an outstretched arm to beckon them into the next room, a sitting parlour where Lord Arnold was waiting.

Just like when Hydrus first saw the vampire he was dressed in an archaic looking outfit. This time it even had one of those silly, frilly collars. Arnold's nose was twitching, but just like when the time-traveller annoyed Lucius, the vampire knew better than to let more than that show.

"Heir Black," the vampire said. "Welcome to my home."

Hydrus smiled back. "I'm so glad to be here."


Regulus slipped away from the others and headed for the way he'd originally delivered the stupid cup to. Hydrus might have thought he had a shot at convincing Lord Arnulf to relinquish his prize, but that was like drawing blood from a stone. The ancient bastard was one of those hoarder types that refused to part with anything they deemed theirs.

Besides, even if somehow he was wrong, and the vampire lord really would part with the thing, it wasn't like him stealing it ahead of time would put them at a disadvantage.

The thralls and guards he 'snuck' past looked on edge, more so than normal. That wasn't too surprising though, the more surprising part was that they weren't all rushing to ambush his nephew. It would've been a stupid thing to do, especially if Sirius was to be believed regarding his son's talents, but it still seemed more in line with the misanthropic vampire's usual methods. When he got to the stairwell that led to the treasury, he began to put some thought into how he'd get past the guard.

Simon was on duty today, a relatively affable vampire as far such creatures went. Few, if any, were as friendly as Zara, but the taupe-haired neophyte had never been particularly rude to him when he was dropping things off for Lord Arnulf. He hadn't exactly been nice either, but that was fine.

The question was, how did he deal with just one hornet in a hive to prevent a swarm?

He almost wished the vampire had been an asshole, it would've made it a lot easier to come to terms with the man's murder. It was much simpler to put down a neophyte vampire than an ancient one like Lord Arnulf, or even the direct descendent of such a being like Zara. Just pop the bloody thing's head, and he'd be done. He sighed, then winced when the sound drew Simon's attention.

"Who's there?!" the vampire called. "Show yourself!"

"It's just me," Regulus said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. "Sorry, forgot I was even wearing this thing."

He pulled back the hood of his cloak, and to his relief it seemed like his impromptu plan was going to work. Simon relaxed and rolled his eyes, not at all suspicious of his presence.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Thought you retired."

"Please," Regulus said with a scoff. "Like I'd let a small setback like that take me out of the game."

"Whatever." Simon folded his arms over his chest. "Whatcha got this time?"

Regulus grinned. "Oh, you've got to see this."

He made a show of biting his lip like he was holding back laughter, and reached for his pocket.

"Wait," the vampire barked. "What is it?"

Regulus froze. "Come on, you don't wanna spoil—"

"What is it?"

The 'former' thief sighed. "You're no fun. It's the eye of a gorgon, supposedly the gorgon, but…"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Just go put it in the organics section."

"Fine, fine." Regulus gave another dramatic sigh, and stepped down into the stairwell. "You're boring!"

Relieved that his improvised ploy had work, he switched from a casual jaunt to a more hurried pace once he was sure that his footsteps wouldn't be heard. When he got to the bottom, he was greeted with the usual glittering labyrinth.

Lord Arnulf believed that the best deterrent for would-be thieves was to give them exactly what they wanted, a profit. A shimmering light filled the room from seemingly nowhere to just such a degree that it would catch on the various glimmering and refractive surfaces of the items on display. There were jewels and golden ingots stacked and piled like knuts across rows of shelves, each individual item worth more than most of the common folk would ever see in their lifetime. Even Regulus was tempted to stuff his pockets since he was burning this bridge anyways.

That wasn't part of the game, though.

He was here for one thing and one thing only, so he kept moving. Once he was out of the section dedicated to the more glamorous artefacts, he had to retrace the steps he'd last taken to get to the right location. He passed by scrolls written by literal saints, staves and wands that had belonged to some of the greatest sorcerers and witches the world had known, and on no less than three occasions items that had once belonged to his very own ancestors.

Finally he arrived at his destination, and just like he'd suspected the cup of Helga Hufflepuff was exactly where he'd left it. It sat on the top row of a set of shelves which also held artefacts from several other famous British wizards such as Merlin, Morgana, and even Cathbad himself. He'd put it just to the right of centre, as though it were waiting for three equally-sized compatriots, and it seemed Lord Arnulf hadn't disagreed with his interior design choice. It was almost a shame to take it back.

Almost, but not quite.

He snagged it and after some finagling got it into his pocket. Practically skipping, he made his way back to the stairs, only pausing for a few moments to once again admire the riches left free for the taking near the bottom of the stairwell. Everything was going as smoothly as possible, and it almost made him disappointed that this would be his last job.


Hydrus carved off another bite of his steak, cooked blue to his father's wrinkle-nosed disgust, and didn't bother to chew delicately. The vampire had clearly chosen the undercooked meat as an attempt at a power play, but he'd eaten meat far rawer than this out of desperation and truly instinctual need before. Admittedly, the deer they'd eaten then had been a good deal warmer than this was now.

He was sitting at one end of a table that had apparently been cut from a single tree despite being nearly a hundred feet long. He could hardly fathom the size of the original trunk, but it was certainly impressive. Opposite of him sat Arnold, a stoic frown refusing to budge even as he nibbled on his own food. To his right and left, close enough for him to have to deal with his fiancee's foot running up and down his calf, were Bella and Sirius.

There was also a host of servants standing at attention on either side of the girthy table, but one sweeping stare across the room had left them paralysed and deemed unthreatening.

"So," Arnold started. "What has brought you so unceremoniously onto my doorstep, Heir Black?"

Hydrus took his time chewing through his next bite. He even allowed a small spot of blood-red liquid to dribble out of the corner of his mouth so that he could have an excuse to wipe it away before speaking, and he made sure to dab at it daintily to slow things down even further.

"I had a business matter to discuss," he said. "Regarding the last artefact that my uncle delivered to you, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff."

"There is no business to be had there," Arnold said. "It is mine, and that is final."

"A rental then," Hydrus said. "For the indeterminate lifespan of a rather old, rather overweight witch."

"No." The vampire sneered at him. "What is mine is mine, and just as I am, that is eternal."

"Right, eternal…" He chuckled. "Luckily for me, I have an unending well of patience. We shall discuss the matter later."

With Regulus signalled, he returned to his meal, still deliberately and obviously taking his time with the dishes set before him.


When Regulus got to the stairs, he nodded at Simon. "You know how much longer Lord Arnulf will be in his meeting? Weiss said he couldn't see me yet."

"How should I know?" the vampire said. "The lord will be ready for you when he's ready."

"Right, right." With his last attempt at making things seem 'normal' out of the way, he pulled his hood back up and began to leave. "See y-, argh!"

For a moment there was a hot, white flash of pain along his upper back, but it was quickly swallowed up by adrenaline as he was slammed to the ground. He'd managed to put up his arm quick enough to stop his forehead from smashing against the ground, but that didn't stop it from leaving him seeing stars. It also had the delightful side effect of snapping his wand. He flipped over as his hood fell back once more, and he saw Simon standing over him.

"Sorry you didn't get the memo," the vampire said, not looking in the least bit sorry. "But it's open season on you and yours."

Regulus tried to scoot back by pressing his palms against the ground, but they slipped on the now-wet surface thanks to his own blood. He glared with impotent fury at the being who was about to kill him, but there was nothing he could do with half his wand holstered and the other half laying beside him. How the fuck was he about to die on his very last job?

Then the vampire's throat exploded, sending his head and body to the ground separate from one another.

Regulus blinked. What on earth had—

Like a sharking appearing from seemingly nowhere as it approached you in the ocean, a serpent came into existence before him. It had to be nearly three metres long and was glittering an emerald glow in the light the braziers along the wall provided. Atop its head was a tuft of crimson plumage that made it perfectly clear just what sort of snake it was. Regulus winced when it turned to him; too late to close his eyes in time, but seemingly unpunished for it.

The basilisk hissed at him, blood and gore dripping from its fangs, and Regulus winced.

"Th-, thank you?" he offered.

The snake slowly closed its mouth, the feathers atop its head standing just a bit taller now, and the thing actually nodded at him.


"On to more important matters," Hydrus said, pushing his third plate aside. "I would like to discuss what your plans are for the future."

Bella was staring at her nails, having finished her own meal already, while Sirius had left his unfinished. Arnold was still scowling on the opposite end of the enchanted table which allowed their voices to carry to one another. The servants hadn't moved an inch aside from when Hydrus required refills or re-plates.

"I don't see what business that is of yours," Arnold said. "As I have already said, I'm well aware that you've removed yourself from the game."

"See, you say you're aware of it, but what does that really mean?" Hydrus pressed. "Cus I might've been a touch rude when I had that chit-chat with your god, so for all I know you could've just futilely tried to poison me."

The vampire sneered at him. "Please, if I had poisoned your dish, you would be dead by now."

"Mm," Hydrus hummed. "You might be surprised."

"Either way," Arnold said through gritted teeth. "I have no intentions, ill or otherwise, towards you, Heir Black."

"Alright, fair enough." He was casually spinning his fork in the air with a slow twirl of his finger, paying no direct attention to the other man. "But what about the rest of your cohorts? The other vampire lords, the goblin cult, what are their intentions?"

After all, Arnold was just one cog in a massive machine. Even if what he was saying was true, that didn't mean there wasn't a horde of other Death cultists just waiting for Hydrus to let his guard down.

"How am I to know the intentions of others?" Arnold asked. "I have received no portents besides the one which informed me of what I told you of."

"Make an educated guess."

Hydrus finally made eye contact with the vampire, and hoped his expression carried the severity of his words despite his lackadaisical tone. Although he agreed with Remus's notion that they should play defence, not offence, that didn't mean he could allow any room for their potential foes to doubt him. He couldn't appear weak. He couldn't let them think for even a moment that they stood a chance against him in any way, shape, or form.

"There are many—"

The doors they'd come through slammed open, and Regulus staggered in. There was a trail of blood in his wake, and an odd twisting to his clothes, like there was an invisible… Apophis appeared, tightly wrapped around the man's shoulders, drenched in so much blood he was more red than green above his 'neck'. Hydrus stood and caught the duo as Regulus practically collapsed into his arms.

"It's alright," he muttered, beginning to pour his magic into the man. "I've got you."

It didn't take long to find the wound, and thankfully it was as clean as it was deep. The muscles were a bit tricky, he had to give his uncle credit for putting so much work into his shoulders, but once they were stretched back into place and knitted together, sealing the wound was easy. He patted his uncle on the back when he was done and pulled back slightly as Apophis slithered onto his own shoulders.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Heir Black!" Arnold shouted. "What—!"

Then the vampire began to scream. Hydrus spared him a glance and saw blisters and boils sprouting from every inch of exposed skin he had. It was like he was being boiled alive, and when he turned to Sirius he saw the man's wand drawn and madness in his eyes.

"What happened?" he repeated to Regulus. "Come on, you're alright, just dizzy from the blood loss. What happened?"

"Said… They said…" The other man's eyelids were fluttering. "Open season on us. Attacked me."

"Open season, huh?" Hydrus gently guided Regulus into Bella's arms. "Take him outside, would you, dear?"

"Of course." She manoeuvred him so that one of his arms were draped over her shoulder, and she was carrying him more than he was leaning on her. "And if there's any…?"

"Kill anyone who gets in your way." He placed a kiss on her cheek as she began to giggle. "Sirius, are you done yet?"

His father was holding his own against the vampire lord. More than holding his own in fact, Arnold was clearly on the back foot and was already out of servants to throw in the way of his opponent's curses. The poor fools had apparently been literally frozen in place by their master until he needed any of them as fodder. It was a prodigal strategy, one that held no regard for their lives, and even from the coldest perspective that was wasteful.

Sentient beings were a dreadfully important resource in war.

"Right," Hydrus said as Sirius 'ignored' him. He drew his wand and pointed it at Arnold. "Crucio."

But rather than going towards his spell, the magic he'd summoned from inside himself was immediately taken. It was like his father was the drain of a tub, sucking up any Black magic it could but not directly vacuuming it in.

"Greedy bastard," he muttered. "Doesn't even know what he's doing."


Sirius flung another bone dusting curse at the vampire. Then a gut ripper. Then a skin melter, a heart popper, and a skull shredder in rapid succession. The first was blocked, the second hit but the spill it caused was immediately regenerated. The skin melter and heart popper both did their jobs, but again the first was quickly healed and he could only assume the second was too. Like the first curse, the skull shredder was shielded, this time with a more literal shield conjured from the remnants of the vampire's stupid table.

Just as he took a breath to begin a new stream of dark magic that had been beaten into him as a child, someone slapped his ass.

"Good game," Hydrus said, casually stepping up beside him. "Tag out."

"What?" Sirius blinked, and then it was like a cement-filled cauldron being dropped on his head. "Oh, shit."

It was a rare thing for him to experience magical exhaustion, though thinking about it more rationally now it was a miracle he had lasted as long as he had. He stumbled to the side so that he could lean against the wall. He hadn't felt this tired since the time he and James had caught the illegal dragon eggs smugglers and their very illegal dragon mother. At least then he'd remembered how he wound up in such a position.

"This could stop now, Black!" the vampire, whatever his name was, roared. "Walk away and—!"

"Tornado."

Sirius was nearly jerked away from the wall as a cyclone appeared in front of Hydrus, tearing through stone and deceased flesh alike on its way to his opponent. Just like before the vampire threw up a shield, but unlike Sirius's one-and-done spells, the tornado didn't stop when it met the glowing wall of magic. Instead it continued to press down on it, lighting the whole room up in a neon-scarlet radiance as the shield began to buckle, then break.

The Black Sheep put a hand up too late to stop the blood from splattering across his face. The cyclone was shredding the vampire like a blender, eviscerating his entire body just as fast as he was regenerating. It was like watching the most horrific training memory at the auror academy on a never ending loop as the vampire continued to heal and be torn to shreds over and over again.

"Now we wait," Hydrus said. "It'd be a lot easier to just kill him with some fiend fyre and be done with it, but he didn't answer my last question."

Sirius turned to his son, and saw something even more terrifying than the gorey whirlpool he'd been watching.

Nothing.

There was no madness in Hydrus's eyes, no snarl of passion, no… Anything to suggest this was beyond the scope of the norm. He was just watching the vampire get turned into a slurry of fleshy goo like it was the third day of a quidditch match. When the time traveller turned his own gaze back on Sirius, he shivered.

"Don't look at me like that," Hydrus said, his face stoic but his tone soft. "Not you."

Not sure how else he was supposed to look at him, Sirius instead turned back to the horrific display. The longest minute of his life passed, exactly sixty-two seconds by his disturbed count, and slowly the tornado faded away into nothing.

What was left of the vampire was a pile of slop and a mostly disfigured skull, apparently the last thing the creature's healing could save. Hydrus walked over to it, and with his bare hand picked it up. He was looking into what might've once housed its eyes.

"Death," he began. "You started this, but you can end it too. Do not make me repeat what I'm about to do."

'What he's about to do?'

Sirius blinked, and suddenly he wasn't in a mansion anymore. He was just standing on the floor of one, with everything besides him, Hydrus and the head he was carrying, and the space between them, completely gone. It was like a spherical bite had been taken out of the world, leaving a drop at least dozen feet deep on every side of them. Standing in the distance, just a few steps shy of the massive and perfectly round pit, were his cousin and brother.

"Still need to come up with a proper name for that spell…" he heard Hydrus mutter. "Don't get why Bella won't just let me call it black hole and be done with it."


Stefanos Stellavigil smiled down at the list of applicants. There was still another month to go before election day, and he'd started campaigning with a project inspired by Hydrus Black's words, a fact that he'd told to everyone and anyone who would listen.

It was to be a youth home, a place for muggleborn children who weren't satisfied with living mundane lives outside of whatever time they could spend on education. For now he could only invest in those who had already reached the age of eleven and been introduced to the magical world properly, but once those were shown to be a viable product, he was certain the government would allow him to begin picking them off even younger.

And even if the rest of his people weren't on board, by then he would certainly be in a high enough office that their opinions wouldn't matter.

The students he was most interested in were those who held apprenticeships. It was an archaic system of education that had fallen by the wayside in most of Europe where schools like Hogwarts or Durmstrang took in such youths, but further south the large schools' influence faltered. There, many children apprenticed under their parents if they had at least one with magical talent, and for the full-muggleborns there were programs to match them with someone relatively suitable.

It had been a touch disappointing when only most of such children signed up for his program, but it was their loss. The others would continue to receive tutelage from their masters, who would in turn receive additional financial compensation for tutoring one of his wards, thus endearing them to the program as well.

Two birds, one stone.

Once the tutors, as well as any others who were initially impassioned by his speeches regarding a wizard's duty to the magical community, retired and moved on, their former students would in turn help raise and educate more children. By then, he'd be able to snag them even younger, get them started even earlier on the various roads to financial success that would all end in his pocketbook.

All it had taken on his part was repurposing one of his old family manners on the coast into a place where all the little investments could live, a few hired staff to cook and clean up after them, and a friendly smile to get them to sign on the dotted line. Soon he would be the proud adopter of thirty-two magical children, aged eleven to fifteen, all of whom would owe their success to him.

And if they knew what was good for them, they would repay his generosity and kindness in turn.

It was a pain having to have all their parents, those that had any, obliviated, but that was mainly because of how much the bribes cost in the first place. Adopting muggleborn children for the purpose of protecting them wasn't unheard of, but he'd really had to stretch the definition of abuse in some of their cases. Some so far there was no way he could've gotten away with it without the sizable donations the Black family had made in recompense for his past assistance.

In a compromise he'd made with a disinterested Sirius Black, all it had cost was that he had to name the facility after his grandfather.

Soon, the Arcturus Black House would stand as the world's largest home of muggleborn witches and wizards, and the most profitable investment that the Greek lord had ever made.


Albus sighed as Hydrus finished explaining what he had done. He'd been hoping to spend the evening continuing his work on the portrait that had been belittling him, both in words and in its refusal to bend to his will, but instead now he was trying to come up with something to say to the broken man that he himself had been responsible for breaking. What words could one say to someone who picked fights with gods? It was like trying to comfort a dragon.

"So yeah." Hydrus ran a hand through his hair. "Might've let my temper get the best of me."

"Quite," Albus agreed. "I thought the plan was to lay low?"

"He was plotting Sirius's murder!"

The warlock sighed again. Dealing with his apprentice was impossible at times. The man wanted to whinge about the mistakes he'd made, but when you agreed with him he took it as an attack. If you tried saying it wasn't a mistake, he'd argue with you about that too. There was no reasoning or winning with him.

"You could have tried talking with him further," Albus said. "I know his denial of the facts made him seem untrustworthy, but perhaps it was a small allowance you should have made to keep the peace."

"That's—!"

He held up his palm. "Please, allow me to finish.

"Allow him to think you a fool who believes it was just his men plotting your family's demise, and in turn, based on the dinner conversation you'd just had, he might've made that the truth." Albus leaned forward to take one of his candies. "You were raised to be a leader, not a politician, and it shows."

"And what if he didn't 'make that the truth'?" Hydrus demanded. "What if it did nothing and he turned around and killed Sirius?"

"Why do you place so little faith in your capabilities?" Albus asked. "Considering what you did to end the vampire's… Well, not life or lack there or, but certainly you put him out of commission."

"I can't always be there to protect Sirius," Hydrus whispered. "Something could happen to him."

"True," the warlock agreed. "He could be struck by the Knight Bus or a bolt of lightning. He could catch a fatal disease. He could simply drop dead without the slightest clue as to why.

"Yes, Sirius faces, and could have faced greater, dangers than your average man," he continued. "But he is also a far, far greater man than average as well."

Hydrus rolled his eyes, but at least he wasn't arguing. He was staring at the ground with a scowl, looking so much like his father used to when he was a mischievous youth. What wouldn't Albus give to have to deal with such mundane problems again…

He wondered what his other self must've felt in that time, when Hydrus's parents were still under his charge and the new dark lord was on the rise. Did he dismiss such childish games with wanton disregard due to the much larger problems on the horizon? Did he punish them more harshly with misdirected frustration? If only he really could reflect the soul of Hydrus's version of himself in that cantankerous portrait.

"When I was a young man," Albus said. "I had this… I suppose you could call it a flight of fancy. I always envisioned myself as a modern Diognes."

Hydrus cocked his head to the side. "Who?"

"Diogenes the Cynic." He ignored the snort Hydrus gave at the man's epithet. "He was an ancient philosopher, and one who revelled in shirking societal norms."

"Sounds about right," his apprentice said. "Not too cynical though, are you?"

"Not as much as I once was," Albus said quietly. "But I was once standing beside Gellert, decrying the state of the world and of a mind to burn it all down and start anew, designed in the image of my own ideals.

"I stood beside him as we flared the hearts and minds of men and women towards revolution, promising them glory and grace in equal measures." He let out a bitter scoff. "All it would require was for them to fall in line behind the modern-day Alexander the Great, and his partner, the modern-day Diogenes."

Back then it had been so 'obvious' that they were right, that their way was the only way forward for wizarding kind. Every decision they made was the right one, even if they had to work twice as hard to make it so. Gellert the face of their movement, Albus the brains behind it all.

"In truth, Hydrus, I have no idea if what you did was the correct decision." He shook his head. "Perhaps you really have saved your family's lives by putting an end to their would be assassins. There is, however, the chance that you're wrong; that you've set into motion things which will have consequences that affect us all."

"I know," Hydrus whispered. "I know that already."

"You say you know that, but I don't believe you've truly internalised the lesson." Albus knew he was being harsh, but it was what Hydrus needed to hear. "In your own time, your actions and thus their consequences were all a part of a long chain of events that you had no part in starting.

"Now? Now you are the architect of your own fate."

"Right," Hydrus muttered. "If everyone ends up dead it's all my fault."

Albus took a deep breath. "Yes, yes it would be."

The 'teen' sagged his shoulders down so low that it nearly broke Albus's heart. He wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, that he could protect him from the consequences of his actions. But he couldn't. The only protective measures one could take when playing games of such high stakes were preventative, and Hydrus had potentially ruined the ones they had come up with.

"Fuck," Hydrus said. "Fuck."

Albus just continued to watch over him, not sure what else he could do with his pity.

"I'll…" Hydrus started. "I'll pray to Magic, and tell her if she leaves me alone I won't strike her next. That I'll keep my third bargain in place for now, so long as she doesn't make this a two-front war. And who knows, maybe Death will take this lying down."

"I believe Remus said it best," Albus replied. "Don't count on it."

"I know, but what the fuck else can I do." His apprentice ran his hand through his hair again, a nervous tick he'd somehow inherited from his biological father. "Depending on his next move, if it isn't too much, maybe I'll be the one to just take it on the chin and move on."

"And if even that isn't enough to satiate him?" the warlock asked. "Or if the retaliation is too much?"

Hydrus stood and sighed. "Then we go with Bella's plan.

"And I find a way to kill them all."


Bellatrix hummed as she took one last moment to simply enjoy her bath. It would've been a simple thing to use magic to clean herself off after the affairs at that Arnold fellow's castle, but a bath was one of the few things she preferred to handle herself. Time permitting, of course.

Kreacher was standing beside the tub, arm outstretched with a towel hanging off of it, as he had been for the past hour while she made sure there wasn't a speck of dirt remaining on her person. Hydrus had gone off to make battle plans with the old coot, for whatever good that would do him, and so she was free to enjoy the steaming-hot water that the house elf regularly replaced. Just as she was about to finally give in to the pruning of her fingers and get out of the tub, her little water snake entered the room.

"Hello there," Bellatrix said, pushing herself up slightly to reveal more of her skin. "Back already?"

Hydrus grunted and began to disrobe.

She pouted.

He wasn't even looking at her, which was the exact opposite of what she'd grown accustomed to with her flaunting. He was just staring downward at nothing, even as he slipped into the tub across from her, pressing his legs against the outside of hers.

"Come here."

And like that, the sun rose once more.

Bellatrix giggled and turned so that she could slide back into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and setting his head beside hers, inadvertently nuzzling her cheek as he settled. She gave a contented sigh at the feeling of his chest rising behind and almost beneath her then slowly settling back down as he let loose his own, much less contented sigh.

"Don't get mad," he said. Suddenly Bellatrix realised he had his arms around hers in a hug that made certain she couldn't escape. "But there's going to be a delay on the breaking of my third bargain."

Her eye twitched. "Why?"

"Because we're almost certainly going to have to deal with Death now," he said. "And if I can keep Magic off our backs until that's settled, then I need to do so."

"That's not fair!" Bellatrix whined. "You promised—!"

"I know, I know." Her love squeezed her tight. "But I promise again that I still don't want to keep the bargain. You don't need to try and convince me any more. We just have to hold out until this potential war blows over."

She let out a dramatic, cascading groan. Hydrus had promised her that he would break his bond with Magic as soon as they could figure out a way to rationalise it to the world at large, and now…

"I'm sorry, Bella," he said. "If it were just you and me I wouldn't hesitate. Unfortunately, I have to worry about our family, everyone from your father to Giannis."

She glanced down as the bathwater turned a murky shade of brown, a side effect from his magic reacting to even the partial acknowledgement of Giannis as their child. Her love's arm was already repairing itself, but that didn't stop the twisted feelings inside of her from clawing at her soul.

"I hate this."

"I know," he said before placing a kiss on the nape of her neck. "I know, and I'm sorry. I promise, I'll do everything I can to make sure there aren't any further delays."

She sank down deeper into the tub, so that just the edge of her nostrils were above the water if she leaned her head back. Why couldn't Hydrus just kill the two stupid things. He was the one who said they weren't really gods, just mortals that had become strong enough to become worthy of the forces they took dominion over.

Except for Fate, apparently.

'Stupid gods,' she thought. 'There's only one man I worship.'

And right now she wasn't feeling particularly pious.

She stood, sending a shower of 'rain' down on Hydrus and giving him a view only half of her was still in the mood to hope he enjoyed. She stepped out of the tub and finally took the towel off Kreacher's arm, wrapping it around her body and folding it tight.

"I'm going to go do some research," she said. "About how to properly deal with this problem."

"Okay, dear," Hydrus said. "I love you."

She couldn't stop herself.

"I love you too."


Some years ago.

Gregory Herschel held up his hand when Professor Boarmouth called his name. The wrinkled old divination professor glanced down at the roll of parchment he was holding, then back at Gregory, then the parchment again, then Gregory again. Eventually the man gave a shrug.

"Come on up!"

There was a smattering of applause as Gregory stood and approached the front of the classroom, though it was almost entirely drowned out by Agatha Smith's applause. His only friend, and seemingly the only person who could ever remember him, was hooping and hollering without a care for the confused stares the other Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws were giving her for the cheers.

Professor Boarmouth pinned the small medal to his chest, the award for coming in first place of the Divination Class's rankings. The way the results were determined was by making a list of everyone in the class's names, and seeing how closely it lined up with the order they were drawn from a hat just before now. His list had been just one off, he'd put Agatha's name first on the list before anyone else's.

It would've been an embarrassing mistake if it hadn't made her blush so much.

When he retook his seat beside her, she gave him another hug. "Congratulations, Greggy!"

"Thanks," he mumbled. "It was just luck."

He said that, but he was rather talented with divination. He was middling in almost all of their other classes; Charms was the lone black mark on his record where he just couldn't seem to get anything right. Divination, though? When it came to Divination, he was head and shoulders above the rest of the students who were actually having to squint at the bottoms of their tea-mugs.

"Luck, skill, it doesn't matter." Agatha bumped her shoulder into him. "Congratulations."

He couldn't stop himself from smiling. "Thank you."


BBaRtS


Whooo 57! That's new years, baby. I ain't gogt time for reviews or nothing, but just know I love y'all. You're the best, thank you fo r the reviews and follows and comments and kudos and whatever the fuck else. Thank you all so much, see ya when I seey ea less than three!