Harry Potter and the Parliament of Dreams - 28. … And Beyond

George reached the door in almost no time. He could hear quiet words being exchanged. He pulled out his wand and listened. He couldn’t hear the exact words for a while, but the tone changed and the words were getting louder.

“I will not! There is nothing you can do to me that will make me help you!”

“We’ll see about that. Imperio!”

George burst into the room at that moment. “Expelliarmus!”

George deftly caught Warrington’s wand. He shoved it in his pocket and sent a “Finite Incantatum!” at Wayne Hopkins who promptly wavered and crashed to the floor.

George yelled out a trip junx as Warrington tried to run out of the room.

His feet stuck to the floor causing him to crash to the floor and break his nose. Blood splashed everywhere.

“Damned Death Eater,” George growled, brandishing his wand at Warrington.

Warrington groaned as he forced himself upright. He faced George defiantly.

“You couldn’t leave well enough alone, huh Weasley? You’re a pureblood! You should be prouder than that.”

“Silence!” George roared.

George cast another spell that caused ropes to appear and tightly bind Warrington’s hands. “Guess who is going to Azkaban?” George asked quietly.

“You can’t prove anything,” the other teen hissed.

“Oh no? I have your wand. You cast an Unforgivable on the Hufflepuff.”

Warrington paled.

“It serves you right. I had come up here for a different reason entirely.”

“Why were you up here?” he replied, sounding confused.

“You mistreated a very good friend of mine earlier.”

He still looked confused. Then it dawned on him. “Zabini.”

“Your problem with him was what?” George asked darkly.

“He was hanging out with Malfoy. I was only following instructions.”

“You’re lucky you’re bound right now. I’d give you some instruction.”

Warrington looked down rather than look into George’s angry face.

“Mr. Weasley, what is going on?” the Headmaster asked, strolling into the room.

“Warrington cast the Imperius Curse on Hopkins,” George replied, handing the wand over to Dumbledore.

The Headmaster looked over his glasses at the Slytherin student as he took the wand. “Is this true, Mr. Warrington?”

“Yes,” was his very quiet response.

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

“I’m going to Azkaban.”

“A very good possibility. Come with me please. Perhaps we can work something out.”

“They’ll kill me.”

“Mr. Weasley, please help Mr. Hopkins down to the Infirmary.”

“Yes sir.”

Dumbledore cast the cancellation spell on Warrington as soon as George was clear. Warrington promptly got up.

“Come to my office. We need to talk.”

“I can’t. They’ll kill me,” he babbled almost incoherently.

Dumbledore stared at him until he started to walk.

Warrington walked along with Dumbledore until they were on the staircase. He then sharply elbowed the old man, catching him by surprise and knocking him back. He then vaulted the hand railing on the stairs and tumbled end over end to the ground, seven and half floors below.

Dumbledore recovered almost immediately but was not in time with his spell to stop Warrington’s descent or sudden sickening stop at the bottom.

He closed his eyes, feeling his age as he slowly walked all the way down the stairs. Most of the professors were there by the time he reached the bottom. George Weasley was there as well with Madam Pomfrey. She looked Warrington over and then met Professor Dumbledore’s eyes and shook her head.

Dumbledore sighed deeply.

George found himself up in the main corridor approaching his little room when he was intercepted by a raven-haired youth. The green-eyed teen looked at George deeply before saying quietly, “Come back to the Flat with me so we can talk for a few minutes.”

George shrugged his shoulders slightly in response and followed Harry back to the Flat.

Harry plopped down onto the couch and gestured for George to do the same.

George sat and looked at Harry but didn’t say anything.

“What happened exactly? My head is full of mixed up images.”

George tilted his head slightly before starting. “Blaise came up to me just after I finished preparing my potion. He was bruised from an attack by Christopher Warrington, one of the Slytherin Chasers.”

Harry nodded.

“I was very upset that he hurt Blaise. So I put Blaise in bed and gave him a sleeping draft that would allow him to sleep. I then used the resources at my command to find Warrington. He ended up being on the eighth floor with a fifth year Hufflepuff. I went up there planning to confront Warrington when he was through with whatever he was doing with the Hufflepuff. It turned out that he was threatening the boy and he ended up casting Imperius on him. I intervened and detained him. As you know, to cast an Unforgivable on someone will result in a one-way trip to Azkaban. He apparently didn’t want that or the offer that Dumbledore was going to give him. He knocked Dumbledore down and jumped off the stairs to fall over seven floors to his death.”

“That helps me make sense of what I saw then.”

“What did you see?”

“Warrington was trying to make Hopkins spy for Voldemort. Hopkins refused as you heard. I saw flashes of you beating Warrington to a bloody pulp.”

“I would have liked to. I had gone up there fully intending to do so.”

“Ah. I most certainly understand why you feel that way.”

“I feel guilty about it though. I didn’t want him dead. I just wanted him to leave us alone.”

“I understand George. The Death Eaters from this past summer…”

“It’s okay Harry,” George cut him off. “You don’t have to think about it. I know you understand what I’m feeling, even without empathy.”

“What is going to happen tomorrow?”

“Dumbledore will make a few announcements I would guess.”

“Okay. I think I should get back to bed before Draco misses me.”

“It’s too late for that Boy Wonder,” Draco said quietly, stepping out of the shadows.

“Sorry to wake you up Draco,” George said sincerely.

“It wasn’t anything you did George. Perhaps we should spend some time chatting tomorrow?”

“Perhaps we should. Good evening boys,” George stated as he rose.

“Good night George,” Harry replied, giving the older boy a firm hug before joining Draco on the walk back to their room.

George let himself out and went to his own little room. Blaise was sleeping undisturbed. George joined him in the bed and pulled him tightly to him, before covering them both.

The next morning saw the school abuzz with rumors and lies about what had happened the night before. Harry and Draco walked down the stairs entering the main foyer of the school to find it crowded with students all gossiping to each other.

Draco was approached almost immediately by one of the Slytherins. It was a sixth year named Terry Pritchard. The older boy had his wand out. Draco separated from Harry by a little bit so that he was in front.

“Malfoy, rumor has it that you killed Warrington last night,” the boy growled.

“I was in my room all night, I’m afraid,” Draco answered dryly.

The crowd backed up and then formed a ring around both boys. Harry backed up and was to Draco’s left so that he could watch everything. He looked on calmly with his arms crossed on his chest, though the students on his left noted that his wand was drawn and in his right hand.

“Let’s have a real duel right here, right now. I’m more difficult to beat then that red-headed blowhard you beat in Sunday’s Dueling Class.”

A muffled snarl could be heard from within the crowd.

Draco responded coldly, loud enough so that everyone could hear, “Weasley is far better with his wand then you are. Not unexpected really. The Weasleys are one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain. For someone that expounds so frequently on how pure one’s blood is, your family is rather… tainted.”

Terry went a violent shade of red and it looked like he was ready to tear Draco limb from limb. Draco looked as calm and placid as ever. The crowd was dead silent. Ron Weasley and the twins had managed to press their way forward. They had their wands drawn and were giving Terry death glares. Blaise Zabini found himself standing between Crabbe and Goyle. They were both pounding their fists together. Most of the other Slytherins, especially those who reported to Voldemort’s followers were silently slinking away. Pansy was an exception. She watched the whole scene with great interest.

“I’ll… kill you… Malfoy,” Terry managed to spit out.

“I’m waiting for your grand skills,” Draco taunted again.

“Rictusempra!” Terry roared.

Draco waved his wand and muttered something under his breath, sending the spell whirling back at him.

Terry acted fast enough to counter the spell. He then cast his next round, “Furnunculus!”

Draco grinned as he deflected the spell. “Are you going to start dueling some time soon Pritchard? I don’t have all day.”

Terry growled and got out one syllable of the Cruciatus Curse.

Draco reacted with deadly precision, “Expelliarmus!”

The spell moved with such speed that it yanked the wand out of Terry’s hand before he could complete the curse and violently threw him through the air. He crashed to the ground directly in front of the Weasley brothers. All three pointed their wands at his face. Terry merely looked up at them and coughed. His will to fight disappeared.

The crowd looked on in silence.

“Is there anyone else fighting for Voldemort?” Draco demanded to the crowd.

Fully three-quarters of them flinched at the Dark Lord’s name.

“This is not some game. Real people are dying.”

“You sound like a bloody Gryffindor,” a young male voice said from inside the crowd. “I suppose that Harry Potter has beaten you into submission.”

“No. I’m just smart enough to see where this is going. I have ambition; I wouldn’t be a Slytherin if I didn’t. That doesn’t mean that I want to see Muggleborn wizard’s dead. Bloodlines mean almost nothing anyway. Look at Hermione Granger. She has muggle parents and is the best student in the fifth year. Look at Neville Longbottom, his family line is strong and proud, but his wand skills are lacking.”

“This from the great Draco Malfoy, who spent the last four years in this school saying that Muggleborns aren’t worth allowing to live,” Ron Weasley said plainly into the crowd.

Draco felt Ron’s thoughts and knew what he had intended by the statement. “I opened my eyes. I saw the lies Lucius told me. I saw the truth. I saw the dried wisp of evil with glinting red eyes that some in this crowd wish to be in charge. It was my father that tried to beat me into submission and he failed. He’ll burn along with the rest of the Death Eaters. Hell can keep him,” Draco growled out.

“Draco?” a female voice asked into the dead silence.

“You can burn with the rest too, Pansy.”

She screeched.

Draco strode forward, tossing Terry’s wand onto the ground behind him. He walked straight up to the Weasleys. “I’m hungry. Care to join me for breakfast?”

Ron snorted, “Yes, I think I will.”

Harry never said anything as he walked past the boy’s wand and his fallen form to join his friends. He felt Terry’s intention though. He paused slightly and then spun around with his wand drawn again. He cast the blasting spell at Terry just as the boy got a hold of his wand.

Terry dropped his wand as he flew through the air to land with a sickening thud right next to Professor Snape. The professors had finally arrived.

Snape looked down at Pritchard coldly. “I suppose we should have those bones mended before you are expelled.”

The boy wasn’t coherent enough to understand him. Someone else heard him though.

Harry hadn’t made it too far into the Great Hall when he heard a shout from behind him. “Stupefy!”

Harry stumbled forward, but was not knocked out, as he should have been. He turned around to see who attacked him. The rest of the school was standing around or sitting at their seats in shock, including the professors.

“How typical of a Slytherin. Attacking from behind. What is it you want, boy?” Harry asked lightly.

The boy, only a second year, flustered. “My brother is going to be expelled because of you bloody Gryffindors!”

Draco supplied the boy’s name to Harry through their connection. “Graham, you’re too young to be throwing your life away on this futile path to doom.”

Harry turned around and continued his walk.

He was struck in the back again by the stupefy spell and he staggered slightly. “Turn around Potter!”

“No,” Harry replied firmly.

“Stupefy!” Graham Pritchard roared once more.

Harry staggered forward again.

“You bloody coward turn and face me!” the boy cried out.

Harry turned around, but did nothing. He was hit in the chest by a fourth knockout charm and he still did not get knocked out. The crowd, including the professors continued to watch the scene, mesmerized by it.

Harry drew out his wand at last. “I believe the proper form is thus,” he said making the appropriate swishing gestures. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

“Stupefy!” Harry roared, making the quick sharp gestures with his wand that were necessary of the spell.

Harry’s voice was like a lightning strike in the room. It was followed a moment later by the thunder-like roar of the spell slamming hard into the twelve year old Slytherin boy. The boy was knocked backwards fifteen feet. He was quite still when he stopped his flight. He was still breathing though.

“Picking on little kids now Potter?” Adrian Pucey asked. “Are you afraid to face someone older?”

“Fear someone older? Do you have any idea what fear is?” Harry asked derisively.

“Yes. It was what you are showing by not facing someone older.”

Harry snorted loudly. “I have. I’ve dueled with Voldemort and lived. What have you done?” Harry noted how nearly everyone flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name… even Pucey.

“At least I’m not afraid of a Dementor,” Pucey came back weakly.

Harry spun around demanded, “How close have you been to one? What do you see when you’re near one?”

Pucey smirked. “I’ve passed by them several times and I saw nothing.”

“Aren’t you lucky? Aren’t all of you lucky?” Harry sneered at the entire hall. “Do you know what I see?” Harry asked in a quiet voice. Despite the quiet voice, everyone in the Great Hall heard him.

Draco said urgently, “Don’t Potter.”

Harry ignored him. “You want to know what I see? I’ll show you!” he yelled.

Everyone in the Great Hall, nearly one thousand people, saw a vision at that moment. The magical ceiling came to life with a larger than life image and sound. They all saw a red-haired woman pleading for her son’s life. They all heard a scream and saw a flash of green light that cut off that scream. They all saw a hideous face and a cruel smile before a flash of green light flew directly at them. The vision ended.

“That is what I see when I close my eyes. That is what I see when I’m near a Dementor,” Harry said quietly, drained almost completely of energy.

Harry turned and walked slowly out of the room. Everyone watched him go, except Draco, who slowly staggered after him.

Once they were gone, the people in the Great Hall all turned and looked at each other. A great many of them had tears streaking openly down their faces. The students weren’t the only ones. Several of the professors knew the red-haired lady, Lilly Potter.

Snape stood in the doorway. He had seen the vision. He had discretely stepped aside to allow Harry and Draco to leave the room. He then stalked in and glared around at everyone in the room that dared to try to meet his gaze. Then his tirade began.

“I have never been more ashamed to be a Slytherin than I am at this moment. Two hundred points from Slytherin!” he roared. His students looked at him in shock. “A Slytherin student committed suicide this morning and two other Slytherins violently attack other students. What are we coming to here?”

The professors at the head table all sat and let Snape have his say. The students all shuffled to their tables as Snape glared them into their seats.

“And all of the rest of you? What do you have to say for yourselves? Do you think that this is all a game? Those images you saw. Do you know who that was?”

Some students ventured a nod, many students shook their heads and a few remained obstinately taciturn.

“What you all just saw through vision was the death of Lily Potter, Harry Potter’s mother. The end was of the Dark Lord himself sending the death curse at Harry Potter, which left that scar he is so famous for.”

There were gasps and sudden tears from a lot more students.

“No more,” Snape growled before stalking over to Graham and bodily lifting him off the floor and stomping out of the Great Hall.

Dumbledore stood up. There was a profound sadness in his voice as he spoke. “I had intended to tell you all what happened late last night. After such an emotional morning I don’t think that is wise. I’ll therefore cut my remarks short. Christopher Warrington committed suicide this morning. He had been caught performing an illegal spell and he refused an offer of help. I want to tell you that it is a terrible thing indeed to commit suicide. It is a permanent solution to what generally amounts to only a temporary problem. Please approach your head of house, a professor or a friend if you need help. In light of the situation, all classes are canceled today. I suggest you all reflect on what you have seen here this morning. The professors will be available all day for those that wish to talk about anything.”

After a very abbreviated breakfast, Dumbledore returned to his office. Professor McGonagall joined him. They sat across from each other at the desk for a very long time without saying anything.

“I never realized how powerful our Mr. Potter was becoming.”

“Just so Minerva. Let’s set aside his remarkable resistance to the stupefy spell for the moment. In all of my experience, I have never seen anything quite like the display today. I’ve read of several accounts from a very very long time ago that somewhat fit what we experienced, but I can’t begin to put to words today’s event.”

“There is no spell that I know of that would allow so many people to experience the attack from fourteen years ago. There are a few that could show us, but from the talking I heard and my own experience, it was like I was feeling things as baby Harry did.”

“I think most people did. As I said, the only other accounting of such an event goes back more than fourteen hundred years. A little renowned wizard of the time documented a display of Merlin himself. Merlin was said to prophesize about King Arthur’s whole life. He did so in front of a crowd of many people; wizard and muggle alike experienced it much like we did.”

“Are you saying that Harry Potter is another Merlin?” Minerva barked in surprise.

“Fate seems to keep good and evil balanced with each other Minerva. Please remember that it is not Harry Potter alone in this. It is Harry Potter’s connection with Draco Malfoy that allows him to have so much power. It is Harry’s largest weak point.”

“I think that they are good for each other now that I’ve seen them spending time together.”

“That’s not what I meant by weakness. I think that if something were to happen to either boy, we would lose the other as well.”

“We’ll have to be extra careful to prevent that then.”

“I have already given George Weasley a room near the Gryffindor Flat so that he can help guard them. I’m thinking that it would be prudent to move him there permanently and perhaps move Mr. Zabini as well.”

“I keep feeling as if we are turning our school into a brothel,” Minerva grumbled.

“We are doing nothing of the sort. It helps Harry and Draco to develop their skills to have others close to them. From everything I’ve observed and from what the twins have reported, both Harry and Draco go out of their way to help others. It is not unreasonable to allow boys to live together, even if they are having sex. We are about to enter a long and drawn out war and we are going to start losing more people. I think that we should give everybody a chance to love and be loved in case something horrible happens.”

“I’m not so much as a cold-hearted prude that I disagree with that. I just didn’t want to give our tacit approval of such activity by blatantly assigning rooms to the boys.”

“We need to keep Harry and Draco protected at all costs. Fred and George Weasley have volunteered to be the front line of defense for the boys. They made that choice five years ago when Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor and became best friends with Ron Weasley. They have done a superb job protecting him. It was inevitable that the twins would fall in love with someone at some point. It so happens that the boys they fell in love with also wish to help in the war that is coming. We will provide a small flat to the Weasley’s next door to the Gryffindor Flat. I think it would be best to give them one larger flat instead of two smaller ones. Two bedrooms, a common room and a bathroom should be sufficient. What do you think Minerva?”

“As you wish Albus. I can do that immediately and have it ready for them by dinnertime.”

“Excellent. How do you propose we deal with the inevitable letters from parents about the event that Harry Potter perpetrated upon us?”

“Letters Albus?”

“It will get out that Harry Potter induced a vision on the entire population of Hogwarts. What do you think we should say?”

“I think we should have no comment at all.”

“I think you might be right for now. What should we do with the students that have a change of heart because of this?”

“Everything we can to help them Albus.”

“Agreed. I’m going to go walk around in public in case someone wishes to talk with me.”

“I’ll do the same as soon as I’m doing preparing the new flat.”

Severus Snape stormed into the infirmary with his bundle of Slytherin boy. He placed him onto an empty bed. His entry attracted the attention of Madam Pomfrey.

“What is this, Severus?”

“This foolish boy attacked Harry Potter and Harry Potter eventually returned fire.”

“What was he hit with?”

“Stupefy. Potter cast it on him after he hit Potter four times.”

“Potter was hit with four spells and did not go down?” Poppy demanded.

“That’s not even touching on it Poppy. I suspect that you will have a lot of traumatized patients later. I need to talk to this boy. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me.”

“Severus this is my infirmary and I’ll not have you…”

“Now. Poppy,” Severus said in a quiet, deadly voice.

Poppy squeaked lightly before stomping off to her office.

“Enervate!” Snape commanded.

The boy barely stirred.

“Enervate!” Snape commanded again.

The boy groaned, a little, but did not wake up.

Severus gathered all the strength he could and willed it through his wand as he cast again. This time the boy woke up and sat up slowly, a look of confusion on his face.

“What happened?” Graham asked quietly, not yet noticing the intense angry stare from his head of house.

Snape didn’t answer.

Graham rubbed his eyes and shook his head a little before he focused on Professor Snape again. He started to shake when he met the man’s gaze. “What happened Professor Snape?” The boy looked absolutely terrified.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Snape asked quietly.

“I was in my dorm getting dressed.”

“What is today?”

“October 30^th . I’m looking forward to the big Halloween Ball.”

Snape felt absolutely disgusted but he didn’t let it show. His face softened somewhat. He reached down under his robe and extracted a small vile from his potion case on his hip. He handed it to the boy and asked him to drink it. As soon as he did, the boy’s aura appeared around the boy and it showed some strong contaminations. The boy had been controlled for some time now. Potter’s extra strong spell must have broken the control over the boy.

“Do you remember anyone casting a spell on you?” Snape asked calmly.

“Only my brother Terry. He said it was a protection spell. I don’t remember the command he used.”

“Thank you. You are to stay here to recover for the rest of the day. Ask Madam Pomfrey if you need something.”

“Yes sir,” the boy replied quietly.

Snape stalked over to the far end of the infirmary where there was a door. He stepped through it and walked all the way to the end where their one secure hospital room was. Terry Pritchard was locked inside.

Snape unlocked the door and entered. He withdrew his wand and cast a complex detection spell. Terry also showed signs of being controlled. He was no longer however.

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“I don’t know. What am I doing here sir?”

“You were in a duel and you lost badly. You are currently scheduled to be expelled.”

“I didn’t!” Terry shouted. “I would never! I want to get my education.”

“You did and you did it in front of a lot of people. You publicly attacked Draco Malfoy. When he left you were down and everything probably would have been left there. However, you tried to attack him from behind, and Harry Potter once again demonstrated his mastery of the blasting spell. Madam Pomfrey spent some time mending your broken bones.”

Terry had totally uncharacteristic tears rolling down his face. “I don’t remember doing anything like that! I wouldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that!”

“You also cast the Imperious curse on your brother. Professor Dumbledore is not aware of this yet, but when he is made aware of it, you will be given a short trial and then sent to Azkaban.”

Terry broke down completely. He kept repeating, “I didn’t do it.”

Snape listened to him do so for a few minutes before saying gently, “What is the last thing you remember?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you remember having anything cast on you?”

“No. It feels like I’m waking up from a long nightmare. Honestly professor, I would never hurt my brother. He may be a pain sometimes, but I love him.”

Snape saw the sincerity in his eyes. “Why did you get sorted into Slytherin?”

“I really wanted to be the Minister of Magic.”

“That sounds like a nice ambitious goal. And now?”

“I want to make it safely out of school and set up a nice business.”

“What about the Dark Lord?”

“The sooner he’s gone, the better off we will all be.”

“You’ve been under Imperious. We will try to work something out for you.”

“Is my brother okay? You said I cast Imperious on him?”

“He’s okay.”

“Good,” Terry said, leaning back against the pillows.

Snape left the room with his anger smoldering underneath his clam façade.

He stalked straight out into the main hall. It was eerily quiet. There were almost no students at all in the halls. He decided to check on Harry and Draco to make sure they made it back to their flat.

He walked the direct route from the Great Hall to the Gryffindor Flat and found them at the top of the stairs on the fourth floor. They were walking along very slowly as if they were very old men.

“Are you two okay?” he asked quietly.

“Just very tired, sir,” Harry replied as he trudged slowly forward.

Snape grunted and then conjured a stretcher. “Get on this you two.”

The boys looked at each other before climbing on. They sat back to back with Harry facing forward and Draco facing back. Snape levitated the stretcher and they made pretty good time the rest of the way to the Flat. The portrait opened up allowing them in.

Snape sent the boys to bed after extracting a promise from them that they would sleep. As soon as he was sure they were safely abed, he went straight to the Headmaster to discuss what he found out.

Fred was sitting on his new bed in the flat next to the Gryffindor Flat. It was a very comfortable bed. McGonagall had showed the place to them just after dinner. She told the twins that she had spent most of the day making sure that it was ready for them. She also dropped the bombshell that they were to live here now and that if they wanted to, they could have their boyfriends move in with them. She blushed when she said it and blamed the headmaster.

Fred thought back on the conversation.

“Professor, are you uncomfortable with us having boyfriends?” George asked.

“Of course not Mr. Weasley. I’m uncomfortable with the idea that we are tacitly, if not explicitly giving our blessing to whatever personal activities you choose to engage in.”

“She means that she doesn’t condone us having sex,” Fred translated in sotto voce to his twin.

“I assure you Professor, that any personal activities I may or may not decide to engage will not be frivolous,” George replied calmly.

“That is at least mildly comforting,” McGonagall replied dryly.

She had left at that point. George was now in his own room talking with Blaise. Zavien was due to arrive any moment. Fred hopped up when he heard a knock on the hidden door.

Zavien stepped in when Fred opened the door. Fred greeted him with a smile.

Zavien smiled back. “So this is your new home, huh?”

“Yes. It can be yours as well, if you’d like?” Fred asked, batting his eyelashes at him.

Zavien’s eyes widened. “You mean that the professors would allow it?”

“Professor Dumbledore suggested it. It is really up to you. It’ll most certainly give away your spying position in Ravenclaw. There are other ways to help of course. If you don’t, you are still more then welcome to stay the night whenever you wish,” Fred replied with a devilish smile.

“It would probably be best if I stayed in Ravenclaw and just visited here.”

Fred raised an eyebrow.

“Frequently,” Zavien smirked.

Fred smiled fully.

The man hissed as he threw the parchment into the fire. “Wormtail, get me Lucius Malfoy immediately.”

The man stared into the fire and brooded as he waited for his dimwitted lackey to perform his task. It didn’t take too long. It was a fact that saved Wormtail’s miserable life.

“Leave us Wormtail.”

The beady-eyed man bowed and shuffled out, closing the door behind him.

Lucius bowed deeply. “You wanted to see me my Lord?”

“We have a number of problems Luciussss,” Voldemort said deliberately hissing out his lackey’s name.

“Yes my Lord.”

“The new Minister of Magic has routed out almost all of my informants. Not only that, he has recruited the American Magical Government. There are a lot of annoyingly strong wizards in the American Auror Society and I’m informed that some will be arriving here for consultations.”

“I’ve been informed that there has been some strange events going on at Hogwarts as well.”

Voldemort sighed. “Yes. Your son, who had so much potential, is quite entangled with Harry Potter. They need to be eliminated, but it is not possible at this time. I think it is time that we regrouped and overtake a weaker target.”

“Weaker target sir?”

“We are going to topple the French Wizard Government. They were the first to fall under Grindelwald sixty years ago, and I don’t see any indication that the French have grown backbones. We should be able to take out Beauxbaton fairly easily as well. We will gather our forces there and then attack others.”

“If that’s what you wish, Lord Voldemort.”

“It is. Fake your death Lucius and kill your wife. She has always been too soft for me.”

Lucius blanched. “That will leave my fortune and the manor to Draco.”

“It will. You won’t need it. Neither will he,” Voldemort scowled deeply.

“Yes my Lord,” Lucius replied as he bowed.

Lucius left quickly leaving Voldemort alone.

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” Voldemort sighed.

End of Chapter 28