An: Welcome to the last reworked chapter before we move on to new ones.

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(Hogwarts Great Hall – Breakfast Under Umbridge's Tyranny)

Breakfast was its usual dystopian affair. Students hunched over their porridge, whispering like prisoners plotting a jailbreak. Umbridge prowled the High Table, her pink cardigan clashing violently with the atmosphere of existential dread. Ron glared at his toast, fantasizing about smashing her smug face into the marmalade. If Harry were here…

His thought vaporized as a portal tore open above the Gryffindor table. Light seared their retinas. Wands snapped toward the anomaly—some in defense, others by reflex.

When the glare faded, a thing stood in the hall.

It was vaguely humanoid—if humans were built from spare cauldron parts and existential crises. Two meters of clanking metal, draped in a tattered robe the color of green and black. Silver lion heads snarled from its shoulders, and its legs… Merlin's pants, its legs were spider limbs.

"INQUIRY,"it intoned, its voice a blender full of gravel."WHAT IS THIS PLACE?"

Its "head" swiveled toward a first-year Slytherin, who paled like he'd just been volunteered for a Snape pop quiz."H-h-hogwarts,"the boy squeaked.

"ADDITIONAL INQUIRY. DATE REQUIRED."

"1996…?"

The creature's eyes flickered like faulty Lumos spells."SPONTANEOUS TIME TRAVEL IMPROBABLE. SUSPECTING CHAOS INFLUENCE. SCANNING FOR SCRAP CODE."

No one moved. No one breathed. Even the enchanted ceiling seemed to pause mid-cloud.

"SCAN COMPLETE. SYSTEMS CLEAN." The abomination clanked toward Umbridge."ARE YOU THE FLESH-BAG IN CHARGE?"

Umbridge's toad-like face purpled."HOW DARE YOU! I AM DOLORES UMBRIDGE, UNDERSECRETARY—"

SCHLUCK.

A mechadendrite speared through her skull, pinning her to her "Happiness Is Compliance!" banner."INSULT NOT TOLERATED. WITCH TERMINATED. PRAISE THE OMNISSIAH."

Ron gaped. On one hand, holy shit. On the other… "D'you think we could've borrowed that tentacle before she banned Quidditch?"

Hermione stared at Umbridge's twitching heels."I think… we're in a lot of trouble."

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The battle had been a masterpiece of carnage—until it wasn't.

Voldemort's forces had swept through Hogwarts like a scythe through wheat. With Dumbledore absent and Potter vanished, the Dark Lord had expected little more than token resistance. His werewolves and giants had butchered their way to the Great Hall, leaving trails of viscera and shattered wands. The defenders' morale crumbled faster than a transfigured sandcastle. Victory, he'd thought, was inevitable.

Then the coughing started.

Werewolves dropped first, clawing at their throats as blood frothed from their muzzles. Death Eaters followed, collapsing mid-hex, their faces bloated purple. Voldemort's mind raced—poison? Here?—as he conjured an air bubble around his head. Around him, only a handful of quick-thinking followers survived, their wide eyes darting between corpses and the Great Hall's doors.

They creaked open.

A thing clanked into the moonlight, its silhouette a blasphemy of gears and spindly limbs. Behind it, the pale faces of surviving students peered out, their horror mirrored by Professor McGonagall's scream:

"YOU CALL THIS A PLAN? YOU'VE KILLED THEM ALL—OUR STUDENTS, YOUR OWN!"

The machine didn't turn."CLARIFICATION: STUDENT FATALITY RATE 16.7%. ENEMY FATALITY RATE 93.8%. EFFICIENCY: OPTIMAL. PRAISE THE OMNISSIAH." (Translation:"Skill issue")

Voldemort's wand rose—Avada Kedavra on his lips—when a needle pricked his stomach. He stared at the tiny dart, then at the machine now aiming a weapon that crackled with lightning.

"Protego!"he croaked.

The green light flared—then vaporized, along with his body, most of his remaining Death Eaters, and Umbridge's favorite "Educational Decree" plaque.

Voldemort seethed. Again—reduced to a wraith, forced to haunt Albanian forests until some idiot stumbled into his diary. Not that he'd checked on the thing since his resurrection. Why bother? Lucius was too loyal to ever let it fall into danger.

"ANALYSIS: SOUL-BINDING DETECTED. HERESY. INITIATING CONTAINMENT PROTOCOL."

A staff glowed. Chains of ethereal code snared Voldemort's essence, dragging him toward the machine's chest—a hollow chamber stenciled with:

"RELIC STORAGE – FRAGILE (LIKE YOUR EGO)"

"NO! YOU CAN'T—!"

"CORRECTION: CAN. WILL. DID."

The latch closed with a click.

"EXCITEMENT: NEW RESEARCH PROJECT. LABORATORY REQUIRED."

Lucius Malfoy—opportunist, survivor, and connoisseur of self-preservation—stepped forward, his tone butter-smooth. "If I might interject… Lucius Malfoy, at your service. As the…unfortunate head of Britain's wealthiest wizarding family, I'm uniquely positioned to fund your endeavors."

The machine's optics whirred, focusing on him."PATRONAGE OF HIGH NOBLE APPRECIATED. COMPENSATION?"

Lucius stifled a smirk. Perfect. "A mere exchange of favors. Share fragments of your research, and perhaps… assist in resolving the occasional complication for my enterprises."

The machine stood motionless. Lucius held his breath, his pulse a drumroll beneath his robes.

"TERMS ACCEPTABLE. RESEARCH ACCESS: LIMITED. ASSISTANCE: OCCASIONAL."

Relief warmed Lucius's veins. He extended a hand, the picture of aristocratic grace. "To a mutually beneficial partnership."

The machine stared at his palm, then extruded a clawed, yet eerily humanoid, appendage. Lucius shook it, ignoring that it had too many fingers.

"COMPANIONSHIP OFFER: ACKNOWLEDGED. FRIENDLY RELATIONSHIP STATUS: UNDER CONSIDERATION. FURTHER DATA REQUIRED."

"Shall we depart?" Lucius gestured to the castle gates, already mentally drafting how to explain this to Narcissa. (He wouldn't.)

"AS THE OMNISSIAH WILLS IT."

They strode past the carnage, Lucius plotting profit margins, the machine calculating how many House-Elves would fit in a test chamber.

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And there we have it, from now on new chapters... though that will take longer than just reworking old ones. Yes, I know one is missing but I wasn't really happy with it so it's gone for this version.

Fun info of the day. Snarling Lion head + Green and Black attire would be the Ordo Sinister (yes really). They have the stuff that is secret even by Mechanicus standards. Like Psi Titans who's weapons are, btw, powered by literal suffering (of a psyker).