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"I am Talking."
'I am Thinking'
Spells
Warning: Character death, and some gore.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
~Code of Hammurabi
INNOVATOR
-Dev Sagittarius Black
~~Chapter 33: The Potter Vengeance~~
.
"Talk."
Harry and Alan stood in the former's room on the fifth floor, where he had invited his younger brother to finally clear out a few issues. He knew that the boy would want to know several things and it was possible that he might not be able to tell his brother anything in the coming months since he'll have to leave in a week.
Alan sighed. This was the first time he had been allowed to enter his brother's extravagant VIP suite, and boy did he love what he saw.
His brother had a full-on suite, which included a bedroom, living room, kitchen, two spare rooms, and a private bathroom all to himself. Not to mention that his brother also had his own house-elf who looked way more regal and learnt than the Hogwarts ones.
There was a large center table that had thick tomes, pens as well as quills and parchments strewn over it. Various charts and diagrams lined the numerous bulletin boards that hung around the living room. Smaller models of his side projects were strewn across the floor where he had been crafting them.
Also there were blank parchments and pens strewn all over the place. He didn't know why it was like this, but he assumed that there might be a reason behind it.
But that was just one part of the living room, other than that the living room was the absolute personification of luxury. It wasn't gaudy or an irritant on the eyes, no, if anything, the entire ensemble looked quite soothing, as well as depicted subtle richness of the owner without screaming it in your face.
And then, there was him, the famous Boy-Who-Lived. A celebrity who lived in a damn tower, and had to share a dorm as well as bathroom with four other boys, and of course, no personal house-elves. Well, he wasn't angry at his brother; it was his right to get special treatment since he was not only a self-made celebrity but also a widely popular one, sometimes in the wrong circles, which have led to three assassination attempts in the past.
"There are many things that I want answers to, Harry." Alan placed the self-inking quill that Harry had on the coffee table. "Where do you think we should start from?"
"I will answer your questions, Alan, no matter what." Harry shrugged. "But they say that in situations where you don't know where to start, the beginning is your best chance to get things going."
Alan nodded. "Then I would like to know where you and mum were taken when you two went missing, and why did mum's body return a week later in a coffin? Who were they?"
Harry looked at his brother for a moment before he turned towards the doors and flicked his wand repeatedly. He locked and protected the door with the highest degree of protection and privacy charms that he knew of, which sealed the complete room from the outside world.
"Alright, Alan, I will tell you everything that you need to know about our past." Harry nodded. "But for that, I want you to swear on your life that whatever we speak of in this room for this meeting won't ever be uttered to a single man out of this room unless you have my express permission to do so."
Alan gulped at the ferocity of his brother's words, but he knew that Harry wouldn't ask this unless he really didn't want the information to get out in any way whatsoever. Therefore, he repeated the oath word-for-word, just like Harry had told him to.
"You know who rules the world, Alan?" Harry asked him as the two boys took a seat.
"The politicians?" Alan frowned. "Sometimes the one who sits on the throne? I don't know, why are you asking me this?"
"To tell you that you're wrong. The world isn't ruled by the politicians, the ruler, or a dictator." Harry shook his head. "It's ruled by the one who is powerful enough to sway the crowd and do his bidding. Although the methods of power did change over the centuries."
"What do you mean?"
"Take this as an example. Who do you think would have been the most powerful during the Stone Age and the Prehistoric Age? Actually, don't answer. It would be a person who hunted best, was strong enough to protect, and was intelligent enough to take the lead. Similarly, came the Time of Tools, so the one who had best control and was better at handling tools would be the leader. Then, came the 'Era of Empires and Enemies'; the one with the best army won the war and ruled the land. You are getting my point?"
Alan nodded. He didn't know why Harry was suddenly giving him history lessons, but he understood what his brother was trying to say.
"What do you think is a measure for power now, Alan? In our current era, which component do you think would be measured if one wanted to know power in today's age?" Harry smiled when he saw the confusion on his brother's face. "The answer is money. The one who has more money can buy more arms, have more men, and have everything the world has to offer. Throw the money and watch the drama; that's how our world works."
"Alright, I get it. But what does this whole discussion have to do with what I asked you?" Alan frowned. "I want to know where you and mum were—"
"I am coming to that, Alan." Harry nodded. "Now, in today's world, we have a selected group of individuals who have all the power in the world because they are practically rulers who pull the strings from the shadows. They have their roots in the underworld, or the criminal area, and yet, they have their hands in legal businesses — for pretending, of course."
He raised his arm when Alan opened his mouth once more, "Now these… creatures. They call themselves 'The Council of Paragons', or 'The Council' for short. They have divided the world into eleven different parts, and each part is ruled by a family. They don't give a damn about anyone else other than their own coffers, and they have the governments in their bloody pockets!"
"During Voldemort's rise—the first one—he had gone to the Council to sign a deal with them so that they would give him money, men and a seat on the table. In return, he would make Britain a part of the council, and Britain would've been a precious addition since it would bring the wealth from around the world with itself. Therefore, the deal was made, and Voldemort got full support of the Council. Unfortunately, on the night of the thirty-first, he was vanquished by you."
Alan blinked. Yes, he knew that he had vanquished Voldemort. Hell, everyone knew that! But he didn't know if it was true or just some made-up story since they couldn't find anything else. The memory realm hadn't worked because even though he had searched all the memories, he had been unable to locate the one that would explain what happened that night.
"The Council was affected, not too deeply–mind you–but it was; they had invested their resources in Voldemort's dream—no matter how foolish it sounded—and now they had been hurt." Harry sighed. "Which meant they wanted retribution from the person who had caused them such a 'grand' loss. Yes, Alan, they wanted to kill you. Maybe even enslave you."
"I- I was barely—"
"It didn't matter to them; like I said, they don't care for anything other than their bloody coffers." Harry shrugged and carried on. "Well, that night, grandma Dorea had taken you out for a walk because you were being especially whiny. The Council had sent its special forces to kidnap you and kill all others, but you weren't there. So, they kidnapped the two who were there in the manor that night—me and mum."
Harry let his words hang in the air for a few moments. He knew that Alan's mind would be going through a lot right now, and he knew exactly what it might be going through at the moment.
"No, Alan," Harry said sternly, "You aren't responsible for our capture or her death. If you are going to be stupid enough to blame yourself for such a thing, then there's no need for this talk. We are done, and you don't need to come to me ever again. Understood?"
"But Harry—"
"No buts." Harry shook his head. "What happened wasn't the fault of a boy who was barely three at that time, no. The only ones at fault are those who pushed the incident to such an extent just to satisfy their fragile ego. So, you will never ever blame yourself for anything regarding that kidnapping or mother's demise. Understood?"
Alan looked down in shame; he knew that Harry was telling the truth; it wasn't his fault that Voldemort came for them and then supposedly died at his hands. It wasn't his fault that this Council he just heard about took it upon themselves to make it their aim to punish him, and it wasn't his fault that his family was kidnapped.
Still, he couldn't stop the nagging voice in the back of his mind that screamed at him for being a coward. Ultimately Alan nodded; he didn't know how long it would take him to get over the news, but for now he would just put it at the back of his mind.
"And they imprisoned you for three years?!" The red-haired boy asked his brother. "Because the government ran search parties for over a year and they couldn't find you. And then… then the Potter Manor was — wait! Was that the doing of the Council too?!"
"Yes." Harry sighed. "The members don't stop at anything, Alan. They would go to any extent, fall down to the lowest pits just to get what they want, and to show their fucking 'might'."
"But then how did you get away from them?"
Harry explained the role of Tim, the one guard who genuinely cared for him. Enough to sacrifice his own life and send him to the Diagon Alley that night. He also told him that he knew it was Alan when the boy had offered him ice cream at that shop.
"Then why did you run away, Harry?" Alan asked him once more. "We could've been together all this time! Throughout my growing years, they called me the last Potter. Do you know how bad it feels to know that everyone in your family died and you are the last living one? I missed you so much, Harry. I missed everyone."
"I was a kid, Alan." Harry looked to the side. "And I had just been told that I was declared dead. If I had announced myself to you, I would have either been labeled a liar by the public or they would have taken me to the ministry for a 'thorough' investigation, which would have made me visible to The Council, an organization that was hunting me at that time. So the only thing I could do was run away from you, and then you yourself vanished from the public eye."
The two brothers kept on talking as the younger asked more and more and the older told his tales. Alan learnt that Harry worked in Diagon Alley for the next four years and that he had even tried to locate his brother, but due to the tough times, security was tight and no one other than the Weasleys or Dumbledore knew where Alan was.
He also learnt that Harry had met most of their classmates while he worked in the Alley and therefore, already knew about his batchmates. There were a few things missing from the Innovator's stories, but Alan didn't mind them. He knew that still there were things that troubled Harry and shouldn't be shared so soon.
"Anything else you want to know?" Harry asked as he looked at the time. There was another place where he needed to be now.
"Yes, I want to know what you're going to do with these Council bastards."
Harry blinked at the sudden query. "What?"
"I mean, I know you. I know that you aren't someone who is going to leave them alone for what they have done, right? You won't; it's just isn't you to take bullshit from anyone and let it go." Alan raised his hands when he saw Harry glare at him. "Peace, brother, I meant that as a compliment. It means there has to be something you will do about the Council."
"You don't have to worry about it." Harry stood up. "I told you about it only because you needed to know certain things, not because I wanted you to know. The information about the Council of Paragons and everything else is to be kept secret and never to be talked about or even thought of ever again. With Voldemort back in the game, it's not safe for you as it is, and I have promised mum to keep you safe."
"But I want to do something too, Harry!" Alan said firmly. "She wasn't just your mum; she was mine too. Also, you're forgetting that, being the stupid Boy-Who-Lived, I am already on Voldemort's hit list."
"I am surprised that you can finally speak his name without stuttering or flinching; what brought this on?" Harry raised an eyebrow, trying to change the topic of conversation as he didn't like the way it was going.
"Dumbledore used to say that fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself; I didn't get it back then, but after defeating him in my mind, I am more confident in saying his name out loud," Alan explained to him.
"Ah, so this is where the deluded confidence is coming from." Harry smiled. "You defeated a fragment of his soul in your own mindscape; that's like kicking an old man while he is down. Of course, you won, you were in an area where you have full control over what happens."
"But I didn't! In fact, he had more control over my magic than I did," Alan screamed. "And not only him, Harry; the Council has more control on my life than myself. I want those Council idiots to suffer too. I hate them; I hate that they broke our family because of fucking ego."
"And what will you do to avenge that?" Harry spat. "What can you do to avenge mum and grandma's deaths?" Nothing, that's what."
"Not alone; I want to join you, Harry. I want you to destroy them; I know you will." The boy nodded. "And for that, I am with you; I want to torture them, to kill them, and to make them beg for mercy!"
"That's just your anger talking, idiot." Harry shook his head and turned to leave. "You're not ready for it. Just go back to your old life and forget about this."
"But I am ready! I have trained, and I don't care what you say; I did fight Voldemort of all people in my own damn mind, and I won!" Alan screamed after him. "Don't turn your back on me, Harry! You know that I can fight as well; just tell me who is first, a- and I'll kill them. I- I swear."
Harry stopped and turned to glare at Alan. "Kill, eh? Kill? You want to spill some blood, Alan?"
Alan nodded. "Yeah, I am ready to help you, Harry."
"Alright then, get ready." That's the only warning Alan got before Harry started throwing curses at his brother.
Alan's eyes widened in shock, and he took the first curse head-on, a simple flipendo which got him before he ducked behind the table that was blasted by the next one. The force was strong enough to knock him back.
"Protego Maxima!" Alan raised his shield, but again, it only took two blasting hexes from Harry for the shield to shatter, and Alan was thrown off again.
"I think that the fact you won over Voldemort's soul in your mind is getting to your head," Harry told him. Alan growled as he got up and threw two stunners at Harry, who dodged it and simply threw a chair at the boy before kicking him on his solar plexus.
"It was your own damn mind, Alan," Harry said. "And that was just a fucking piece of the original monster. You think you are ready to face an entire army of wizards? No, you are not! You'll die pitifully against two decent death eaters, much less a fucking army!"
Alan glared at his brother, who looked down at him.
"I am not your enemy, Alan," he told his brother. "It's your stupidity and arrogance that I am afraid of. So, listen to me and go back to being the poster boy of the light side; Merlin knows they'll need someone to look up to in the days that are coming."
"What good a 'poster boy' would I be if I died against two death eaters?"
"Two was an exaggeration; you'll die against one." Harry turned to move out.
"Then, train me."
"What?" Harry asked as he looked at the boy.
"Train me so that not only I can survive against one but two and, maybe, one day, an army," Alan told him as he approached Harry and pleaded, "I don't want to be a burden anymore, Harry. I don't want to be seen as a useless wizard, and I don't want to be remembered just as a 'Poster Boy for the Light Side'."
"I am not going to teach you how to kill, you shithead," Harry told him in frustration. "I don't want to turn you into a demon; I don't want to rip that stupid innocence you hold in you."
"You didn't, but someone else did," Alan told him, and he continued before Harry could speak again, "And before you say that, I know nothing about the world. I admit it; yes, I don't. I have never killed even a fly by my hand, much less a human. That's why I want you to train me to protect myself first."
"Protecting yourself is the first step in gaining a power that might harm others one day," Harry pointed out.
"I knew that you won't let that happen to me," Alan shrugged. "You can always punch me in the stupid face and knock me down a peg or a thousand."
Harry shook his head and released a tired and angry breath, trying to control himself. "You don't understand what you're asking of me, Alan, and don't give me that 'protect myself' bullshit; I am way more intelligent than that idiot best friend of yours; you should know that by now." Alan snapped his mouth at that. "You are literally asking me to train you how to protect yourself and kill others in the process; you want to learn how to kill from me, not how to defend. And that's against what I had promised our mother."
"But, if I learn that, I'll be able to protect myself, which means you helped me keep myself safe," Alan pointed out.
"No, teaching you how to kill means that I am preparing you for a war, and wars are anything but 'safe'," Harry shook his head, "I can't teach you, Alan. I will not teach you that."
"I promise to not go on a killing spree or become a vigilante or something, I swear," Alan promised. "I am ready to swear on my magic that I won't kill someone unless they harm me."
"Do it."
"What?"
"Go on, do it." Harry pointed at Alan's wand. "Give me the oath that you won't kill someone unless they harm you first, and I'll teach you how to 'defend' yourself."
Alan halted for a moment, and the Innovator sighed at the clear signs of hesitation on his brother's face. But just before he could have said anything, his brother went ahead and gave the oath. He swore on his magic that he wouldn't use whatever Harry's taught to kill someone unless it was to defend himself.
Harry thought for some time before he went to his personal book shelf and picked up three leather-bound books. "Take these."
"What are these?"
"Books on defense; these aren't your conventional school methods, so they aren't taught." He shrugged. "Learn the spells before the month ends; if you fail, I'll stop the training immediately."
Alan grinned. "Thanks, Harry."
The Innovator nodded, but before he left, he turned to look at Alan once more. "By the way, do try swimming for an extended amount of time, and look about Gillyweed in library books.
Lucius Malfoy heard the footsteps once more. Smacking of thick boots on the cold stone floor of the dungeons of Black Manor. The footsteps gave him a sense of Deja Vu these days because they were always followed by pain and misery. Usually some mocking about his life presented itself first.
"Came to mock me again, Black? Didn't get enough last time, did you?" He mumbled; his throat was dry, but that blasted house-elf gave him water only three times a day. Enough to keep him alive but weak enough that he wouldn't be able to do much against the torture.
The footsteps stopped in front of his cell, and Malfoy opened his eyes to meet his captor's boots.
"It seems that Sirius has been visiting you regularly," a smooth voice, totally unlike said Black's, made him shiver. He looked up from the boots and came face to face with the cold emerald glare of the monster whom he had hated and feared his whole life.
"Po- Potter!" Malfoy gasped. "What are you doing here?"
"It is my godfather's manor, and you are my prisoner; I hope you do remember that?" Harry smiled. "But today's special; do you know why? Today's a happy day, Malfoy."
"A… happy day?" The man asked him, worried that the monster might do some permanent damage today.
"Indeed. But I think watching it would be better than telling you." The Innovator pointed towards his side and summoned a wide white screen with a small metal ball placed atop it. "I hope you remember this little invention of mine."
"The Showballs?" Lucius muttered, "W- what… what are you going to do, Potter?"
Harry just chuckled. "Something that you might not like, but don't worry, this is a private show. So whatever happens won't be shown to the rest of them that are being established elsewhere. You see, this showball is an upgraded version that includes sound and has the ability of one-on-one conversation. I'll launch it later, but it'll work for us."
The fact gave him some amount of relief, but then he realized that this meant whatever was going to happen would show the Potter heir in a bad way, which is why the boy wasn't showing this to the public.
Harry clicked a few runes and switched on the showball. Rays of bright light streamed from the metal ball and fell on the white screen. The Malfoy Lord's eyes widened when he saw the first thing that was displayed.
It was his son.
Unconscious and tied to a chair.
"Remember your dear son, Malfoy?" Harry smiled. "Yeah, that's him. He's not anywhere near us, so don't bother screaming. He's in a separate place where Sirius is with him." Harry turned to look at the screen. "Sirius, you there?"
The Lord of the Blacks came into view instantly. He wore a dark black suit, his hair tied in a ponytail, and a disarming smile on his face. "HEY HARRY! I WAS WAITING FOR YOU! HOW ARE YOU?! THIS THING IS BRILLIANT!."
"Yes, I can hear you, Sirius; don't shout." Harry scrunched his face. "Do you have all the things that I told you to take with you?"
"I do. Which one should I start with?"
"Potter—"
"Start with the pincers; they're good for—"
"Potter, please—"
" —removing nails. And start with the toe nails." Harry ignored Malfoy. "You have put a silencing charm on that idiot, right? We don't want any—"
"POTTER!"
Harry stopped and turned to look at the tied and helpless form of the Malfoy lord. "Yes, Malfoy? Can't you see I am busy? Whatever it is will have to wait."
"Please Potter, release my son!" Malfoy cried. "He hasn't done anything. H- he isn't even marked yet! He doesn't know anything about the Dark Lord, Potter. Please release him. Yo-You lot are the 'good guys, aren't you? You don't do these things! THAT'S NOT YOU!"
Harry just smiled at the frantic idiot, "But that's where you are wrong, Lucius." The younger mage's eyes glowed. "Your son, Draco, is responsible for opening the gates from inside Hogwarts, is he not? He's the one who led the Death Eaters inside Hogwarts, right? Isn't that shithead the reason why thirteen muggleborn children died?!"
"Th- that was the Dark Lord's bidding, Pot- Harry. Please." He gulped. "Draco didn't know anything; he was—"
"Told to open the gate when he got the signal, eh?" Harry narrowed his eyes. "Malfoy was safe under Dumbledore's protection. Your wife had asked for his safety, and Voldemort would be a fool to actually try to penetrate Hogwarts while Dumbledore was alive and functioning. What your son did isn't a mistake, you fool. He just lusted after power and chaos… just like his father. And now he pays for it."
"Please, Potter, take whatever you want; I- I can pay you, Potter. Anything that you want, I'll give you. Just… just release my son."
"Anything, Malfoy?" Harry smirked and looked towards the screen where Sirius had pulled out the pincers and was going to pull the toenail.
"YES! I- I mean, yes, Harry. Anything!" The man nodded feverishly.
"Stop, Sirius. It seems Malfoy has some brain." Harry stopped the man, and, from within his robes, he pulled out a blood quill as well as Gringotts papers. He opened the cell and stepped inside the small room.
"Sign these papers, Malfoy." Harry placed the papers and the quill in front of the Malfoy lord. "I promise that neither I nor Sirius would harm your son in any way."
Lucius frowned at the papers. "What are these?"
"These are legal Gringotts papers that proclaim that you, Lucius Malfoy, Lord of the Noble House of Malfoys, are hereby giving up your vault, your lands, and everything that you hold dear to 'Lily Potter Fund for the Needy'. Of course, I am not completely cruel; therefore, your ancestral manor is exempt from this."
Malfoy blinked in shock. His mind couldn't grasp exactly how he was giving up everything to some random fund. He knew about the Lily Potter fund that his captors had started a few years ago; he had even made a small contribution of five thousand galleons for the show and to raise his standing, but to give everything?
His estates throughout the world, the lands he owned, his winery, the shares he held in different wizarding businesses, the Malfoy vault at Gringotts… everything flashed before his eyes. And the brat was daring enough to ask him to sign up for every damn thing to a fucking fund?!
"Are you insane, Potter?!" He shouted. "HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK THAT I WOULD– HOW… how could you even think that any sane wizard would do that?!"
"Well, then, all we need to do is make you insane for you to sign it, right?" Harry smiled. "That's easy, Lucius. Actually, I am glad that you denied it; this makes things more interesting for me."
"What?"
But the Master of the Hallows ignored the fool and turned towards the screen. "Alright, Sirius, Malfoy is being a bitch. Ennervate that idiot and start plucking out his toenails. Use as much force as you want; I am sure he can withstand it."
At first, Lucius thought that Sirius wouldn't do it; he knew that the Black Lord was a bit insane; it was the Black family madness, and he could say that he had been the unfortunate victim of three of those Blacks. But to torture a kid? That wasn't what he would do, right? RIGHT?!
Unfortunately, Lucius found it the hard way when he saw that Sirius Black was indeed cruel enough to do it. Draco's nails were plucked one at a time, his mouth wide open in a silent scream as tears streamed down his face and blood poured from the wound.
Lucius tried to stop them; he repeatedly asked Harry to stop it all. He was even willing to pay half of what the boy had asked for, but it seemed that the boy didn't want anything like that. Harry just watched the entire thing with a stoic mask as both the Malfoys cried.
"So, Lucius, are you ready to sign it?" Harry smiled pleasantly. "Or shall we show you how much chopping a finger hurts? Especially when it's done to each of the twenty fingers?"
"A monster…"
"What?"
Malfoy glared at Harry with as much hatred as he could. "You are a monster, Potter. Both, you and Black. You are torturing a child, a kid your age, and making his father watch that."
Harry bent down to Malfoy's level and slapped him hard in the face before kicking him in the gut. "You fool. How much of a hypocrite could you be, you fucking piece of shit! You have tortured lots of children and raped women and daughters while their families watched helpless. You have done an uncountable number of the same deeds that you are witnessing, and, now, you dare claim that we are the monsters?! Today, the monster weeps before the man."
Harry pulled Lucius by his hair and made him look at the screen. "Remember, Malfoy, this is how all those helpless fathers felt when your merry band tortured and raped their children right before their eyes. Feel it. Feel the pain, you fucker. FEEL IT!" Harry slapped him once more. "You and your child are responsible for the deaths of thirteen of those same children who were our age; where did this morality go when you were torturing and killing those, huh?"
"They deserved it, Potter." Malfoy bit back through gritted teeth. "They were filth! Mudbloods and filthy muggles at that! They deserved every bit of the things we did with them and more. I spit on those fools for being born in this world with inferior capabilities and an overestimated ego."
"You disgust me, Malfoy." Harry clenched his fist and turned towards the screen. "Sirius, chop off each of his fingers, and make the fucker feel every single bit of it. If he faints, push a bloody replenisher in his mouth and ennervate him."
The next half hour was absolute torture for both the Malfoys; one suffered as his fingers were chopped off while the other cried as his son was being tortured ruthlessly by their captors.
"Still thinking of worth, Malfoy?" Harry said after the ordeal. "You have the Un-Vie curse, Malfoy. Your wife doesn't like you and will never be with you; hell, it's probable that you won't be able to leave this place and die here. Why do you want to end the Malfoy line like this? Just sign the papers, and I promise that neither I nor Sirius would harm the boy."
"Swear on it…"
Harry raised his eyebrow at his audacity, but then he shrugged, "Alright."
He flicked his wand out and pointed it towards the ceiling. "I, Harry James Potter, heir apparent of Houses Potter and Peverel, under no compulsions, swear on my magic that if Lucius Malfoy of House Malfoy signs the papers from Gringotts wizarding bank, which releases the hold the Malfoy family has on the mentioned properties to the Lily Potter Fund for the Needy, then neither I, nor Sirius Black of house Black, would harm Draco Malfoy of house Malfoy. So mote it be."
There was a flash of magic, and the oath was sealed. Lucius picked up the blood quill and signed his name. He winced when he felt his blood being sucked, but he endured it and signed his name on three more places before the parchment glowed golden and vanished.
"That wasn't hard, was it?" Harry smiled and turned to look at the screen once more. "Alright, Sirius. Papers have been signed and delivered. Now, you have to make sure that each of the muggleborn's families received fifty thousand galleons. It's not enough to repay for the lives of their children, but it's the least we could do for them."
Sirius nodded. He felt bad for torturing someone like this, but Harry was right; this wasn't torture; this was them avenging the deaths of the thirteen children who had lost their lives that day. And if it had been left to the ministry and aurors, then they would have done absolutely nothing, and the case would have been shut down.
This outcome was much better than that.
"So, what do we do with this kid, Harry?" Sirius asked his godson.
The Innovator looked at the fallen form of now completely poor Lucius Malfoy….and he smiled, "You know what to do, Sirius. Initiate plan 'A' by inviting them; make sure to turn off the screen from your side so they don't see us."
"Are we still going through with it?" Sirius asked, a bit hesitant. "I mean, we got what we wanted, right?"
"We did, Sirius, but there are others who are starved for something more." Harry shrugged. "And trust me, this will be the most poetic justice to someone like Draco Malfoy."
Sirius nodded and drank the bottle of polyjuice potion. His appearance changed on his way as he turned off the screen from his side so that only Harry and Lucius could see what happened in the cell and not the other way around.
"Wh- what's going to happen?" Lucius asked. "Why haven't you released Draco yet?
"Who said anything about releasing him?" Harry gave a mock frown. "Your son is responsible for the deaths, Malfoy. And I once read something called 'The Code of Hammurabi'; do you know what it says?"
Lucius didn't say anything; he was too busy watching the screen where the newly transformed Sirius opened a door in that room, and through that door entered ten men. Each with a knife or a hammer in their hands as they glared at his son with unadulterated fury.
"A bone for a bone, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth…" Harry picked the blood quill and started moving out of the cell. "...and a soul for a soul. You see, Malfoy, these are the muggle parents of the children who died during that raid; three of them refused, but ten have agreed."
"Agreed for what?" Malfoy muttered even though he somehow knew what it was that they had agreed for.
"Tonight, your pureblood son will die the muggle way, and his pure magical blood will be spilled on 'filthy' muggle hands."
"But- but you said—"
"That neither I nor Sirius would harm your son? Yes, and see, we aren't; Sirius has already left the building. Now, if your son isn't fast enough to escape the place, he will die. If he can escape, then he lives and no one will go after him. The choice is his."
Harry gave a simple shrug and closed the door behind him. "Enjoy the show, Malfoy. I hope you always remember it."
And with that, he left the place; he would still hear Malfoy scream at him, curse him, and hear Draco's screams. Malfoy was even shouting at those men and telling Draco to apparate out or run away; sadly, he didn't know that since Sirius had turned off the showball from the other side, not only the visuals but also the audible parts have been turned off, which meant that no one could hear the blonde's panicked shouts.
'And that is the end of the Malfoy line…' Harry thought as he walked out of the Black Manor and apparated back to Hogwarts.
Ending Note: I am actually sad with the lack of reviews. Maybe you guys stopped reading? Or maybe you just don't like the story anymore? Who knows. I guess writing just a simple 'Good work Dev' is too much these days.
The next four chapters and all the character sketches... 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 next chapter for free, 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
Thanks!