Chapter 872 - 7

'Dragon in Diagon,' I looked at the title that the Daily Prophet preached. I had made the front page, it would seem.

It was mostly a puff piece that had a long-winded explanation of how difficult the Patronus Charm was and how it likely some sort of a prank gone out of hand, as it was completely harmless. No one actually noticed that the caster was an eleven-year-old, as it was likely something only Olivander and McGonagall had witnessed.

The article went on to retell the story of Andros the Invincible, an Ancient Greek Sorcerer who had been able to cast a Patronus the size of a giant, along with a talent for wandless magic.

That did not justify such a title, however.

I pulled on the same energy as the Patronus Charm, mixing the energy empowered by Determination and Conviction with my Chi as I let the energy sink into my hand in a derivative form of Sagecraft. It was not a full Patronus, as I lacked enough data to determine how much of the process the wand was handling, but I could make use of this.

A thin layer of the white mist clung to the surface of my skin, coating my hand, forming a shield charm that was not a shield charm, one that would be capable of countering most spells if I understood the underlying principles correctly.

And now I had the means to punch a Dementor, in case it became necessary.

It was definitely a better explanation than what the paper gave at least.

I noted the title of Sorcerer before flipping to the other pages, where I found something more of note.

On the eighth page, barely large enough to be a quarter of a column.

A missing person, a Pureblood who was known for speaking up on the rights of the Muggleborn.

I did not like coincidences.

Contrary to what might be expected of me, I did not spend the entire month before Hogwarts consumed by magic.

Alright, I did dedicate a few days to memorizing my textbooks, practicing spells, and constructing a proper ward around the Evans residence—thank you, Agatha, for the foundation in runecraft and methods of blocking the magic of others. With my newfound knowledge from the book the Ancient One had lent me, I refined the ward even further, blocking the Trace and preventing any uninvited magicals from using spells within the block at the same time.

Once that was in place, I turned my attention to something more interesting—technology.

I could study magic at Hogwarts, and science required me to read up on the background information that I was consistently borrowing from the British Library through the use of my Sling Ring. I have been making steady headway on that front as well, having completed my review of Classical Mechanics and starting on Graduate Level Math and Physics.

What I could not do and needed to start working on, however, was more application side of technology.

Leaning over the titanium arm, I carefully disassembled the machine I had acquired from the Winter Soldier. I had sent him back to Hydra with the directive to sow chaos and seek vengeance. No doubt they would eventually take him down non-lethally—he was far too valuable to be discarded. But until then, he would be a thorn in their side, buying me time to master the Runes of Kof-Kol, fully dissociate Victor von Doom from Victor Domashev, and finally claim my true name.

I should probably write down what I needed the runes to do beforehand though.

On the other hand—pun completely intended—the robotic arm would serve as the foundation for my future power armor.

Because Doom would not be Doom without power armor.

The intricacy of its hydraulics and neural interfacing exceeded even my expectations. The design was intuitive, efficient, and easy to repair, providing full articulation with enough speed and strength to match a Super Soldier. Few in this world could craft something of this caliber. In Hydra, the only name that came to mind was Arnim Zola.

Did I mention I hated Nazis?

Yet, despite its advancements, the underlying neural interface was… crude. I had expected proper cybernetic integration but instead found a hard-coded system that made little sense. If I had to guess, Hydra's Hypno-Indoctrination had been used to rewire the brain so that the neural signals to make them machine-readable rather than designing a proper interface to interpret natural neural impulses. No doubt Zola's twisted mind had devised it.

That, of course, required more evidence to support, and I had managed to find a complex bit of circuitry to analyze, noticing microprocessors in the arm with a design that should definitely be beyond the scope of 1971.

I would need to build a computer that can interface with the circuitry, and one that had the processing speed to handle everything.

"I am going to need to speed run my own tech uplift," I sighed, lacking the tools to decipher most of this thing. I would need to get computers to sufficient speed and power that they would not bog me down.

The problem was that 1971's computers were woefully insufficient. I needed faster processing power and more advanced microchips—technology that did not yet exist.

I was going to need to make the tools to make the tools to make the tools for a few more generations before I could get a fully functional armor and some advanced robots.

And the most frustrating part? I couldn't even take credit for any of it.

My ego recoiled at the thought of using stolen knowledge to obtain a PhD. Doom would earn his doctorate through his own brilliance, not by copying another reality's inventions.

…Though there was nothing stopping me from patenting what I could remember. An empire requires funding, after all.

For now, I focused on what I could build—starting with a personal computer, four years before Apple.

The Stark Chip inside was already leagues beyond the MOS 6502 that the Apple II would use six years from now. It allowed me to construct a keyboard and LCD screen, finally letting me write code in ASCII—something I had only learned the basics of in my past life since no one who did not go into some niche areas used them anymore.

I left my PC working tirelessly to decrypt the Winter Soldier's arm, though it would take a year or so to fully extract the data.

Of course, this gave me the time to figure out what I needed to design an operating system and a coding language

DoomOS had a nice ring to it.

While I was at it, I instructed Old Man Harry to invest the majority of what remained of my money into promising stocks—Stark Industries for obvious reasons and IBM because the PC revolution was imminent. Apple and Microsoft were still years away, with Bill and Steve likely suffering through high school at the moment.

I still had a small chunk of it, but that was soon spent on various number of knickknacks, on the assumption that Sling Rings and Apparition worked on similar restrictions and I could not move in and out of Hogwarts with ease.

I would need items that I would be taking to Hogwarts to test the whole 'Magic and Technology do not work together' belief. Given who I was, that sounded like cope than anything else, so I was going to prove them wrong and maybe laugh like a deranged lunatic to the faces.

---

Soon, the summer was over, and we were off to see the Wizard.

Well, we were off to Hogwarts at least.

The metal arm had been reassembled and locked in a lead box and buried in the wilderness of Latveria under wards, the books were all nicely returned to the library, and the notes were organized in the small personal library that I had managed to build with transfiguration.

Severus and Lily, my newly acquired minions-slash-friends, had been insufferable in bugging me to help them with magic.

Lily was simply taken with Potions and Charms, and working with her to uncover the basics of how everything fit together was rather good to refresh and improve my Witchcraft as well, even if I had to stop her from using her mother's garden to blow up the kitchen on accident.

Severus, on the other hand, was a bit more viscous with his magic, something that Lily disliked. That argument ended when I started listing possible ways she could be harmed without even being aware of it, including around a thousand ways to end up wishing you were dead. Once the absolute potential of abuse that Magic provided settled into her eleven-year-old mind, she agreed to learn how to defend herself and just maybe learn a few tricks to disable an attacker for longer than it takes to revive them.

As I stepped into the red train, I noticed a single flaw in my perfect plan.

It involved interacting with children.

Children armed with the nuclear capabilities of a small nation at that, given how any idiot could cast Fiendfyre.

Maybe I should have stuck to training in the Himalayas instead

---

The boy with glasses lifted an invisible sword. "Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad."

Severus made a small, disparaging noise. Who was obviously James Potter turned on him. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," said Severus, though his slight sneer said otherwise. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy —"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" interjected the boy, who was likely to be Sirius Black.

Severus made to move, only to stop when I placed a hand on his shoulder. There was no point in allowing this rivalry to fester before it even began.

"That's enough," I said, my voice calm but firm. "You're making assumptions about people you don't even know, Mister Black. That's ignorance, not intelligence." I smirked slightly. "Then again, I suppose it's easier to rely on shallow first impressions than to actually show empathy."

Sirius Black scowled at the jab, his reaction enough to show that casual cruelty came naturally to him, though I would still give him the benefit of the doubt.

The book version of Sirius Black was impulsive, cruel, and reckless, but I could trace the underlying interaction between his childhood as a Black and the more noble aspects that came from what I assumed to be James Potter's influence.

Not that I really cared.

I was far more concerned about preventing the conflict between the so-called Mauraders and Severus, as the continued escalation of supposed 'pranks' was of no use to me, and if someone started a fight with me, I was going to be the one to end it.

Before Sirius could retort, Lily chimed in, looking at me with an amused smile. "And where do you think you'll end up, Victor?"

"Wherever I choose," I stated simply. "Greatness isn't decided by which dormitory one sleeps in."

Lily rolled her eyes, but James, unfazed, crossed his arms. "Well, mate, Dumbledore was a Gryffindor, and he defeated a Dark Lord, so Gryffindor is the greatest."

"And Merlin was a Slytherin," I countered. "Your argument lacks logic. Dumbledore did those things because he was Dumbledore, not because he wore a red tie. That being said, good luck with your sorting."

Before they could respond, I turned away, far too bored with that particular conversation. A smirk appeared on my face at hearing Severus and Lily follow behind me.

As we made our way through the Hogwarts Express, looking for an empty compartment to sit in, we ran into something that seemed to be a systematic problem at this point.

"Look at her ears, are you sure she is not part-House Elf, Evan?" an older boy said, pointing into a compartment.

"I reckon the bitch is part-Goblin. Is that it, little Goblin Princess?" another bookend spoke.

"Hah, Goblin Princess, nice one, Rudy," said the blond boy in the middle, who was likely named Evan, "I suppose we should give her a proper Hogwarts greeting," he said before reaching out, likely to pull out his wand.

"Victor," started Lily, but I was already moving forward.

My conversation with Black had already annoyed me enough but seeing the bullying and the lack of reaction from others have caused something in me to just snap.

My hand wrapped around the boy's hand, noting the wand he was trying to draw out.

He was older, stronger, taller, and likely weighed twice as I was.

The sound of bones creaking, however, proved who was superior as I reinforced my body using my new trick before meeting the eyes of the vermin before me.

What I saw really did not bother me. While I was not a natural Legilimens, I was already in the process of siphoning the Ecocentric Energies that made up the Six Dimensions of Infinity. It meant that my Occlumency and Legilimency talents were empowered by Sorcery instead of the innate magic that came from Witchcraft.

A probe let me see the insecurities of the boy, locking onto jealousy.

"Isn't it funny," I spoke, seeing the silver serpent and green coloring of the Slytherin, "that those who have nothing to contribute are the ones who extol the virtues of who they are related to instead of what they have accomplished. It is almost like they are leeches that need to attach themselves to their betters?"

"Wot?" stated the unnamed boy, reaching for his wand. "You got some big words, aren't you Firsty?"

I pulled Evan's hand, causing him to groan as I felt the bones snap properly. It was easy to acquire his wand and easier still to cast a Shield with merely a thought of 'Protego.'

Granted, it was one of the few silent spells that I could cast reliably, as I had made an effort to master how to shield myself until it became second nature to me, and a shield could appear with a thought, but it was enough to understand how Silent Casting worked.

Silent Casting was, as the name implied, silent. It was not Wordless Casting, as that was just Wild Magic that was far too inefficient. No, as most wizarding spells relied on Evocation of the Incantation to pull on the energies linked, it was all Low-level Evocation that required the caster to think the incantation at the least.

And, annoyingly enough, it was actually more powerful to yell your spells out loud than not speaking them up... because, of course, it was.

The curse and that was certainly a curse, uselessly splashed against the shield as I pointed my wand at the caster and thought, 'Brackium Emendo,' causing the boy's hand to flop down, the wand slipping from his now useless fingers.

"Oh, I appeared to have missed and it seemed to have been miscast," I said, my tone far too flat to be sincere.

It was not really a proper spell, funny enough.

The proper first aid spell, according to the book I borrowed from the bookshop before returning it, was a series of spells called Ossus Emendo to fix the bone and cause it to repair itself, though you could somehow use the precise name of the bones to repair as well, one at a time.

That was where the spell that allowed Gilderoy Lockhart to vanish the arm bones of Harry came in. Brackium Emendo, was not a legitimate spell, mostly because trying to heal the entire forearm, the braccium, at once was a very bad idea that ended with vanished forearm bones.

While the man himself had been a useless buffoon, the misfired spell he used was far more efficient than a simple disarming spell, mostly because it would take professional medical help to get fixed and it was definitely not a fast fix.

Just because stunning an opponent was a stupid idea did not mean that there were options that could be used efficiently.

I was of the opinion that the Wizards did not really deserve such a versatile method of magic.

I sent the same spell again, this time to the one named Rudy, causing his wand to flop down onto the floor and another to Evan's hand to remove the bones that I had broken.

A quick Priori Incantato formed the shadow of the spells I cast from the wand, followed by Deletrius that cleared out them.

Both spells were ones that were not known by the majority, as they were technically Forensic Spells only thought to Aurors.

I, however, already knew the incantations from reading the books, and it had taken me an hour to recompute the Arithmancy behind it before I could reverse engineer the wand movement and spell properties, especially when casting the two spells in order could be done only once, removing the previous spell and preventing it from being learned again.

I pulled the older boy close, using the opportunity to stuff the wand back in his pocket.

"Next time you pick on someone who cannot defend themselves," I whispered into Evan's ear, "I will take your hand, and the one after that, your head, do you understand me, Mister..."

Evan looked at me with fear.

"Rosier," a voice cut through the tension.

The boy who walked was tall, broad-shouldered, with a Head Boy badge. His sharp gaze took in the scene, lingering on the two boys groaning on the floor, their limbs flopping unnaturally.

"What is going on here, Longbottom?" came the voice of another figure, almost running up behind who I now knew to be Frank Longbottom.

"That is what I am going to find out," said Frank, turning to me.

"Oh, Evan here broke his hand trying to show off and then tried to heal it," I said smoothly, my face the picture of innocent concern. "He missed the first few tries, but at least now he doesn't have a broken bone."

"Right," said Frank, a twitch on the corner of his mouth suggested that he did not really buy it. "Malfoy, get those three to a compartment. They can head to the infirmary when the train arrives."

The blonde, Lucius Malfoy, had an expression that was either constipated or calculating, though it was hard to tell which as he looked between the open compartment and the three Slytherins before the older ones.

"Can we find a compartment now, hopefully before we arrive or before Victor here decides to pick another fight?" asked Severus, clearly not pleased with the fact that I was making enemies.

"Well, that depends on Lady Galadriel over here," I said, turning to face the blonde girl.

She was a waif of a girl, thin, with bright blue eyes, and far too young looking to be a first year.

The most prominent feature of hers, however, was her ears... which tapered to a point, like an actual elf. She had an otherworldly feel to it.

The only thing that marred her features were the puffy eyes that were caused by her crying.

She had backed into the far end of the compartment, probably in an effort to avoid whatever the older years might have wanted to do.

The girl squeaked, her eyes growing bigger in a way that pushed at sanity. "Wait, you watched the Lord of the Rings?"

I was confused for a moment, before recalling that there was a cartoon version in the late 70s. Accounting for the variables like different people with the resources, those who would be interested in protecting the common people from cursed artifacts, like Kamar Taj and other potential events, it made sense that some events might be slightly different.

I also noted how she seemed to have grown taller, looking closer to eleven than before, proving that she was, in fact, a Metamorphmagus.

"I read the books, but then again, which self respecting Wizard does not know about Lord of the Rings, right?" I asked, realizing that the girl was likely a Muggleborn.

"I haven't read it," said Lily sounding annoyed, piping in. "I am Lily, by the way; this is Severus, and the so-called self-respecting Wizard over there is Victor."

"Oh, I am Meggan," the girl said, "and I haven't read the books either."

"You can borrow my copy if you want, I brought it with me," I responded, having fully intended to get them signed before the Professor passed while I was in the same country.

"Oh, I am sorry, would you guys like to sit down?" asked Meggan, after a moment of silence.

"Well, at least we found a compartment," piped Severus, seeing Lily simply plop herself next to Meggan.

I sat down across from them as Severus dragged his trunk.

"A hand," said Severus.

"What are the magic words?" I asked.

"Please?" suggested Meggan, eager to keep talking.

"They are actually Wingardium Leviosa, with a wand movement of a swish and flick," I said, moving my finger to demonstrate. "You are a wizard, Severus, act like it."

Severus rolled his eyes, taking out his wand.

"Victor, shield," snapped Lily, getting a betrayed look from Severus.

I took out my wand and cast a shield between him and the rest of us.

"Just in case," I said with a smile that had Lily giggle. Let's just say that getting Severus to cast non-destructive spells was a challenge. "We believe in you," I added.

"Shut up," snapped Snape, looking like he was utterly done with our antics, as he cast it, causing the trunk to float up into place without any trouble. "Hah, take that."

Meggan clapped, "So, are you guys second year?" she asked, clearly impressed by the magic.

"Starting our First Year," responded Lily,

"Oh, well, you seem to know so much," she said, her hair darkening and looking far less confident than before.

"And none of us are a Metamorphmagus," I responded. "Do not compare yourself to others, but to yourself," I stated, my perspective giving me something that even original Doom lacked on that front. Granted, the Multiverse had enough Dooms to make any grudge match I might have against Richards look insignificant, so there was also that.

"What is a Metamorphagus?" asked Lily.

"Metamorph-magus," I said clearly, splitting the words. "A wizard... or a witch, in this case, who is able to change their shape at will. It is a form of at-will self-transformation, though it is different from the structured spells that we would be taught," I explained.

"Yeah, Professor Kitty said as much," said Meggan, turning her hair the same shade as Lily's. "She also said that it will be a problem with Underage Magic laws?"

"Do you mean McGonnagal?" Lily giggled, "Wait, there are underage magic laws?" asked Lily, shocked, as she turned to me. "Victor, did you know that?"

"Rules are for the masses to follow and wise to ignore," I responded with a shrug, "I put up a hex to divert any detection wards at your place, along with a few other spells that will make any unwanted visitor wish they did not wake up that day."

It was not hard to put up some serious Runic Wards that were based on what Agatha had shown Wanda, along with additions from the book that the Ancient One had given me.

"The Professor said we would be expelled for using magic outside and that I would have to work hard to learn control this year if I did not want to get thrown out," responded Meggan.

"That is ridiculous," said Snape, "They cannot just have us expelled for something that we have no control over."

I did not say a word. That did sound like something that Purebloods would use as an excuse to pressure the Ministry... which would make this problem more political than judicial.

"Victor is very good with magic, you know?" piped in Lily, "I bet he can help you control your powers. He has been showing us some Wandless magic."

"Really?" asked Meggan, giving me the puppy dog eyes.

"What are the magic words?" I asked.

"Uh... Wingardium Leviosa?" spoke Meggan, making me snort. "Please?"

"Fine," I responded. "I will help."

For Doom was Magnanimous, after all

---

Soon, the train had arrived and the first years were placed on boats.

"Bow," said the Hagrid, the half-giant in the lead boat, who was three times the height of an average eleven-year-old as we passed through some moss.

I, of course, did not listen. While I was not Doom yet, I still would not bow to anyone, much less to shrubbery.

I did, however, cast a shield charm to make sure I did not fall into the lake but also to prevent any other tricks. I expected some sort of a spell, an act of submission that would allow the Ministry to put up observation charms on each student, only for nothing to happen.

Soon, we were made to walk through the Great Hall, nearly two hundred students starting their first year.

'Harry Potter's year had forty students, ' a part of me reminded me, showing the utter devastation that Riddle would cause to this society.

I, like any fan of the books, chose to take in the atmosphere and marvel at the enchanted ceiling while humming a particular tune from the moment I lay eyes on the castle.

'Note to self, steal construction information of this place,' I thought as we were all gathered for the sorting.

The Hat sang a tune that was off-key, making me question if that was the best it could get with a year of preparation, but then again, doing it every year for the last millennia was likely hard without repeating your own rhymes.

McGonnagal stood in her tartan robes, unfurling a scroll, and started reading.

"Black, Narcissa" she called out, as a girl with part blond and part black hair walked up in that way that children might walk to emulate adults.

I was not sure about the age of the Black Sisters, but it turned out that the youngest was in our year, meaning that it was likely that the other two were also in the hall.

The Hat immediately called out "Slytherin," which was predictable.

"Black, Sirius," came next, this one taking nearly three minutes as the boy beneath the Hat was slowly getting redder and redder before the Hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" which led to silence.

Tell what you will about James Potter, but the boy was loyal to any friend he made, as he started clapping, breaking the silence. I saw the sheer relief beneath the smug look of Sirius as he looked at his new best friend.

It was sort of adorable.

On a whim, more than anything, I flicked the wand up my sleeve in the direction of the scroll with a whispered "Confundo," willing the order of the names to shift.

Like all good lies that had a hint of truth, the spell I cast leveraged the fact that my name was 'Victor von Doom' instead of 'Victor Domashev' to get my name closer to the last, allowing me time to watch and make sure my interference did not cause any more trouble.

Then came the first of our group.

"Evans, Lily," the Deputy Headmistress called.

Lily walked up with determination as the Hat descended.

A minute passed.

And then another.

And another.

After nearly five minutes, the Hat called out...

"SLYTHERIN!!!"

Oh... fuck.

AN: Cliffhanger, because reasons. Let us just say that Doom had some influence on Lily and not in the way that he thought.

I am motivated by discussions, feedback, and criticism. If you wish to enable my coffee addiction, I made a ko-fi account here if you wish to support my work. I can only promise to spend the time drinking coffee writing my stories, and you get absolutely nothing else in return.Last edited: Mar 25, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:captainloser, Zombiep1zza123, LightningLogia and 1,657 othersGuldsdoneFeb 26, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 006: Under the Heel of Doom New View contentGuldsdoneWizarding WorksMar 4, 2025Add bookmark#442Previously:

After nearly five minutes, the Hat called out...

"SLYTHERIN!!!"

Oh, fuck.

"Severus," I said to the boy next to me, "Please tell me I just misheard it."

"You did not," said Severus, similarly dazed.

Alright, the original plan of a peaceful... well, relatively peaceful, seven years went out the window; time for a new plan.

I could grab the girl and dash through the Mirror Dimension, but I recalled Dumbledore being able to do something similar with mirrors, so that was probably not an option.

Could I kill the entire Slytherin House and chalk it up to poison? Too extreme, and Dumbledore would probably see through it.

What about killing Slytherin's Basilisk and reviving it as an Inferi to kill off the entire House? I could even put the blame on Tom or Slytherin. That had promise, but it was too complicated and involved figuring out a way to enter the Chamber when I was not a Parselmouth.

Right, let's not go for the Nuclear options first... these were teenagers, not Death Eaters... not yet, at least.

Right, these were teenagers. That meant that prison rules applied... right?

I just needed to do some show of force, maybe find the meanest Slytherin and go Palpatine on them.

My eyes found the Headmaster looking at Lily with deliberation and a hit of concern from the frown of his lips.

I sighed, waving my hand with a muttered "Revelio," that shifted the ink that spelled out 'Domashev,' to 'von Doom' while stretching the use of that particular spell. The option of hiding was out the window now. I did not need the orphan refugee from the USSR puppet; I needed to be the Beast of the Balkans, the mailed fist that ruled all he surveyed.

"Lupin, Remus," took two minutes before heading to Gryffindor.

"New plan, Severus," I said to the boy next to me. "We take over Slytherin."

"Are you..." hissed Severus, before sighing. "of course you are serious."

I held back the response that Sirius was already sorted.

"Pettigrew, Peter," went to Gryffindor after three minutes, followed by a "Potter, James," who also to Gryffindor, his eyes occasionally drifting to Lily with confusion.

Meggan watched our exchange next to us, not saying a thing as her name was called.

"Puceanu, Meggan," echoed her name.

Wait... where did I hear that name before?

She seemed nervous, her hair cycling through the colors of the rainbow and what I was sure was something on the Ultraviolet spectrum that pinged my senses, but she seemed to have a look of concentration on her face.

"Slytherin," the Hat called, as Meggan slumped in relief, even as she gave us a nod.

Huh. Well, the girl had guts.

"McKinnon, Marlene," the Professor called out, followed by a call of "Gryffindor" as I ignored the sorting of the NPCs.

"Snape, Severus," McGonnagal came down to.

"Right," said Severus, his eyes sharpening as he walked up stiffly, less nervous and more determined than I had seen from him before. It looked to have the dignity of a man who was walking to face his shooting squad.

"SLYTHERIN!" let it not be said that Severus Snape was not a brave boy.

"von Doom, Victor," McGonagall finally called out after a while as the sorting was reaching its end. I did not care for her reaction.

My eyes met Dumbledore, who leaned forward, utterly focused on me.

'Hello, Victor,' started the Hat, as I felt a presence reach through my protections. It was an attack that was far too subtle before I pushed it back out.

'Zip it, Slytherin,' I stated simply, threatening to feed the Hat to some tentacled horror I could conjure from the abyss if it revealed what it had seen.

'Now, is that any way to talk to someone in your head?' asked the Hat. 'A Sorcerer at your age, and with such a strong mental shield. I am going to ask you to let me in again. I assure you that I can only see what I need to sort you.'

'Not happening,' I said, especially now that I knew how it reached into my mind.

'It is noble, you know, in the way of a knight defending a maiden, you would do well in Gryffindor. But tell you what, you promise to hold back from killing them all so that Slytherin will have more than four graduates in the next thirteen years, and I will sort you to where you desire,' said the Hat, probably afraid that I would go with my initial options of keeping the entire House empty for the next seven years.

'Deal,' I thought in turn, 'And I am borrowing you for practice, and I want the Sword,' I added, as the Hat had still managed to get past the initial defenses I had.

'You may borrow me as you wish, not like I have anything better to do whole year round but come up with a new song. As for the sword, only one who is sorted to Gryffindor can pull it from me, yet I shall tell you to seek it out where it is hidden, pull it from where it rests. Alas, those four would have fought over each other to teach you, you know,' said the Hat, 'With your intellect and hard work, your cunning and bravery. It would have been utterly hilarious to see them try and tempt you. But then again, with your fashion sense, it could only be...'

"SLYTHERIN!!!" the Hat echoed.

The Hat lifted, and I stood up.

I walked forward, glaring at a grinning Lily sitting next to one Narcissa Black, who looked like she had just eaten an entire lemon.

Right, prison rules.

I raised my left hand, drawing upon my power, and made a pushing gesture with it.

Psionics, which involved both the Mental Arts of Telepathy and Telekinesis, were a specific branch of Sorcery that most Magicals had access to, as it was energy from within that governed their mechanics.

What most Magicals could not do was pull just enough from the Power Dimension to amplify the effects. While it did not compare to holding Infinity in my palm, Equivalent Exchange that governed the Alchemical Laws of Magic meant I could exchange my Chi with raw Power.

The entire bench filled with Slytherin Students slid, starting with Narcissa, causing the unfortunate idiot at the other end of it to fall off with a yelp.

Some girl cackled with laughter, 'Meanest one found. Hello, Bella.'

I sat down next to Lily, across from the same blonde fifth-year Prefect I had met on the train.

"I am Lucius Malfoy," said the blonde, "Prefect."

"Yes, we have met," I said, "How are the three idiots. Do you think I will need to repeat the message, Mister Malfoy?"

Lucius gulped, eye switching between Lily and me before looking along the entire bench of people that I had wandlessly shoved. "I think some might need a few extra reminders," he added, once more proving that the guy had the only survival instinct in the entire House of Snakes.

"I am Narcissa of House Black. How did you do that?" asked the blonde girl next to me.

"I am Victor," I responded in turn, as the sorting was concluded.

"That does not explain how you did what you did; that was Wandless Magic and a powerful one at that," said Narcissa, clearly annoyed at being ignored.

"That is the answer," Lily piped in, "It is annoying, but he is, as he said, Victor. I have given up asking how long ago."

"No one asked you, mudblood," came the quick response from somewhere.

Lily's smile dropped, as she flushed as Meggan gasped.

Severus was gripping his fork like he was a minute from stabbing someone.

I gave an exaggerated roll of my eyes before they landed on the culprit, who had volunteered to become an example.

I just looked at him, meeting his eyes.

I could have used the Mind Arts, used the eye contact to strike with the full power of a mental attack as I ripped through his mind, uncarring of collateral. It would have been simple, subtle, and deadly, as I would leave nothing but a drooling mess behind. as just his mind against mine, and as anything against an unstoppable force, his mind gave in first.

Instead, I simply said, "You are going to fall from the Moving Stairs," with a smile on my face.

"Was that supposed to be a threat, foreigner?" asked the boy.

"No," I said, "though, for context, I am Romani."

The boy paled as I heard Lucius whisper and "Oh... shit."

I also overheard someone ask, "What the fuck is a Romani?"

"He meant he is Gypsy, dumbass," came another response.

"Oh... bugger," the first one spoke.

Honestly, your people invent a few clever curses and may have played around with bloodline maledictions a bit, and suddenly, they treat you like you are the boogeymen.

I mean, they were not wrong, the nomadic nature of the tribes meant that they got their hands on some nasty stuff, like an entire chest full of work by Cogliostro, who streamlined Dark Magic of the Outer Planes, so they were right to be afraid.

It was still racist, though. Not everyone played to the hands of the stereotypes.

"Wait, what is wrong with being Roma?" asked Meggan, "and don't call us that," she yelled out to whoever

"Absolutely nothing," I responded with a smile, "though we are usually left alone for being too scary, something about curses that stick around. It makes people more respectful."

"I am going to fall from the Staircase," the boy who insulted kept repeating while pale as bone.

"Oh, I am also Roma," said Meggan, causing Lucius to straighten right next to her. "Does that mean they have to be nice to me as well?"

"Yes, but not because of your heritage, but because you are Meggan. I will teach you how to do what I did, later. You know, Mister Malfoy, you just might be right," I said with a smile, as Malfoy was looking with wide eyes.

"I don't want to fall from the Moving Stairs!" the boy kept muttering, now having a full-blown panic attack.

---

The rest of the feast went on without much trouble. Our group, unlike the rest of the First year Slytherins, which included the likes of Mulciber and Avery, were rather focused on chatting with each other.

"This is going to be a long seven years, won't it?" asked Severus, looking depressed.

"It is not that bad, is it?" chirped Meggan. "I mean, the hat said I should be in Hufflepuff, but it would have been rather lonely, and we have each other."

"Yes, Meggan is right," said Lily, giving the girl next to her a side hug. "We are now all Slytherin. What happened to greatness does not depend on which dormitory one sleeps in?"

"It still applies, but now I have to account for the logistics of figuring out how to make sure the racist elements in this house behave civilized," I muttered, "Malfoy, tell me, how many of them have to vanish before they stop being morons?"

Malfoy looked at me like I had grown a few heads.

"Victor, no killing," said Lily, "It is probably against the rules."

"Red, my non-lethal options are rather limited at this point, so you are not making it easy" I responded to Lily in turn, with a glare. "What happened to Ravenclaw might be nice?"

"He is joking, right?" whispered Meggan to Severus.

"Knowing him, I am not sure," Severus responded.

---

The feast soon ended as Malfoy and the female Prefect, whose name I did not catch, guided us through the hallways into the dungeons, where the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room was.

I considered how fast I could put on one of the plate armors that decorated the hallways, but I did not think I could catch up to the group if I split off.

"Pureblood," Malfoy spoke the password. The rest of the first years rushed to enter while the four of us held back.

"Victor?" asked Meggan, a hint of concern. "Do you think we should find somewhere else to sleep?"

"Let us not get to that from the start. Whatever happens next," I said with a sigh, "I need you to trust me and do as I say. If I say run, you run. Severus, drag those two if I tell you lot to run for it."

"It cannot be that bad, can it?" asked Lily, looking concerned.

"Well, on the bright side, It could not be worse," I said with a sigh. "If all else fails, kick the male ones in the balls."

Lily rolled her eyes.

"Please don't start a fight," whispered Meggan, making me give her a confident grin. "I don't want to get expelled."

"I do not intend to do anything but finish any fight," I stated, stepping into the Great Hall and coming face to face with a large number of upper years.

"Right," said Lily, taking a deep breath.

"This is a terrible idea," Severus piped in, turning to Lily, "I blame you for this."

"I suppose they have not gathered here to give us a welcome speech?" Meggan spoke with hope.

"If it was not obvious, subtlety is lost on these lot," I commented, holding out my wand, as I spoke, "Before we do this, does anyone want to get out?"

Pure silence was all the response I got.

Some of the first years seemed to be intimidated enough to actually leave the Common Room, along with the second years.

Upper years, on the other hand, stood their ground, forming a loose semi-circle, their expressions ranging from disinterest to barely concealed amusement. Most wanted to see how this was going, some were here to satisfy their sadism.

The flickering green flames in the hearth cast long shadows, illuminating polished silver and emerald tapestries, but my attention was focused on the girl who stepped forward.

"Oh, come on, everyone, is this how we welcome the ickle-firsties?" a girl spoke up.

Untamed curls framed her sharp cheekbones and aristocratic features that could be called beautiful. Her grey eyes shimmered with amusement as they lacked the madness that I would expect from her.

Bellatrix Black.

Future left fist of Voldemort.

Well, I fucked over one future, why not another one, right?

She was obviously the one who ruled this House in all but name, holding court over the so-called court through a mix of pedigree, skill, and sheer madness.

She smiled, the expression more predatory than welcoming.

"Well, well. A little surprise in our midst." Her eyes flickered between Lily, Severus, Meggan, and finally, me. "And here I thought this batch of firsties would be as unimpressive as the last... except for Cissy, anyone touches my baby sisters, losses their bits, that includes you, Lucy. But you…" She took a step forward, her gaze locking onto me with a glint of curiosity. "You are something different."

I didn't respond, simply tilting my head as I listened, pulling a bit of Time to give me the warning I needed.

"You see, little ones," she continued, addressing the crowd rather than us. "There are certain traditions in this House. We must know where everyone stands. Who is at the top… and who should learn their place." Her smirk widened. "It's only fair, don't you think?"

I sighed. "You can just ask, you know. I am sure I can find a good use for you, maybe as a footrest at first," I added, with a smirk.

Bellatrix's smile didn't falter. If anything, it sharpened.

"Oh, very funny, aren't you, Icky-Vicky, thinking you can come here and make demands of the House of Slytherin?" she said, twirling her wand between her fingers.

She turned, addressing the others. "We all saw what our dear Victor von Doom did at dinner." Her tone dripped with amusement. "Very impressive, by the way. Shoving an entire bench like that. And that bit with Nott the Lesser? Inspired."

"Lady, it has been a long day," I responded with a lazy yawn. "So I am going to ask you lot if you want to do this one by one, or all against one?"

Bellatrix laughed at that, thinking it to be the most amusing joke ever made, even as I was mentally calculating the required power for a Bolt of Baltrakk that could bounce through the entire room.

This would have been much easier if I could use Sorcery, to be honest.

"Oh, they will not be doing any fighting, Icky-Vicky," said Bellatrix. "If you think you can come here and make threats with curses?"

"Fine," I said, catching onto her plan about having some stray curses hit Lily and Meggan, who were both behind me. "Let's do this properly, though. Protego Maxima."

The energy that came was similar enough to the Shield of the Seraphim that my knowledge of Sorcery made up for my lack of experience in Wizardry, as a blue-tinted shield formed behind me. Three more casting of the same spell formed an arena in the middle of the Common Room, determining the boundaries of the Duelling Arena.

Bellatrix watched, her smile becoming a full-blown grin as she seemed to be enjoying the show of power.

"Impressive," Bellatrix whispered, eyes narrowing as she ran a finger over the barrier.

"I know," I responded.

The crowd around us stirred, uncertain. Bellatrix, however, looked absolutely delighted.

"Oh, this will be fun," she purred, bringing her wand to the side of her face and nodding.

She struck first. A jet of red light shot toward me—Stupefy—quick, precise. I flicked my wand to cast a shield that absorbed the spell.

I responded with a flick and a "Flippendo" that sent a bolt of magic, as I used the First Year Spell that I had practiced casting.

Bellatrix tried to cast a shield, waving her wand like a tennis player as she intended to send the spell back at me, only for the spell to shatter her shield instead.

I may not be allowed to use Overt Sorcery, but the practice boosted my normal spells to be significantly more powerful than those who did not use it.

Unfortunately, the exchange of spells went on pretty much the same way for a few moments. Bellatrix sent spells that I shielded perfectly, I sent a Flippendo because I had focused far too much on shields instead of learning offensive spells, and the one spell I knew how to cast, Sectumsempra, mainly because it had no wand movements, but it would leave a bloody mess behind.

After the third Confringo, I decided to respond with my own, having seen the wand movement, only for it not to be as impressive as the one sent by Bellatrix and bounced uselessly against her shield.

It did, however, make her pause for a moment.

"Did you just learn from me?" she asked, sounding impressed. "Fine," she added, now starting to send a lot of curses in my direction... the kind that would be very uncomfortable.

Luckily, my shield charm held, as I replenished it after every casting while sinking just a bit of Dimensional Energy into it, just to be certain. The added power from the silent prayer to Raggadorr caused the shield to gain a near-solid silvery blue color.

"Lumos," I added, sending a mono-phase wavelength in a single direction, casting what was effectively a Laser.

Bellatrix dodged the beam of Laser at the last moment, eyes widening as the beam burned through some of her hair, leaving a single scorch mark on the wall, past the shield charm.

"What was that?" she asked, eyes wide.

'Overkill,' I did not say. Let's keep that one for when I actually want to kill someone.

Our exchange continued, with Bellatrix taking the offensive and me being an immovable wall.

I then noticed something in the corner of my eye, as I pointed my wand and cast "Protego" to the side instead of in front of me.

The shield shattered at the spell sent by one of the older Slytherins, who had been watching our duel. It was aimed at Lily, and I had a feeling that it would have been extremely unpleasant, given how my shield shattered at the power it contained.

Severus was the one who responded, even as I clamped down on my instinct to see how many layers of skin I could peel from the boy. His cutting curse, of which he had made his mission over the summer to learn forty-seven different variations, met a shield before the same soon-to-be roadkill responded with a "Furnunculus," causing Severus to give a scream as boils started appearing on his face.

Before I could respond, an "Expelliarmus" from Bellatrix ripped my wand from my hand.

I turned to look at her and found her grinning as I let the shields around the arena fall, allowing the whispers and jeers to slowly reach my ears.

"Shall we end this now, Ickle-Vicky? So everyone knows their place," asked Bellatrix, raising her wand and sending a spell.

Not being in the mood to play along, I slapped the spell away, my hand coated with a white mist of the Patronus-Chi that ran on Determination that I had figured out during the summer.

"Funny, you mention everyone's place," I said, as I held up my hand, an invisible force field grasping Bellatrix despite her rather pitiful resistance, before slamming her to the ceiling, back down to the floor, and back to the ceiling before I let go, causing her to fall once more to the floor.

I then slashed my right arm with a wave and a roar, channeling my anger into the act, as the Telekinetic push sent the rest of the students to the wall even as it washed over my friends, at the cost of leaving me emotionally drained.

Still, I had enough power left to reach out with the same hand and pull the one who had decided it was a good idea to attack my friends.

As I caught the boy by the skull, I flipped him over, using his entire momentum to push his head directly into the ground with enough force to crack the enchanted stone.

I raised my left hand instead, holding it a now kneeling and clearly dazed. Bellatrix flew towards me, her lower lip bleeding. Her body stopped before me such that I now held her by the throat.

"This is your place," I snarled, anger wafting from me, "On your knees before Doom."

I felt her bob her throat as she swallowed, though her eyes looked at me with revelation.

"What is this one's name?" I asked, my feet coming to crush onto the head of the boy who attacked Lily and cursed Severus. A groan from the boy implied that he was still alive, at least.

"That is Rabasdan... Rabastan Lestrange, Seventh Year," said Lucius, being able to get up where he had fallen. "You sent his brother to the hospital wing."

"Ah, the limp-wristed one," I said, stomping once more for good measure, before vanishing his wrists as well. "Alright, you lot, listen up. I am Victor von Doom, and these," I said, pointing at the two girls and Severus, who was barely standing up with their help, "are my... Acquaintances? Associates? Minions?"

"Friends, you arse!" spoke out Lily, actually stomping, while Meggan giggled.

"Right, friends," I said with a nod and a grin.

"I really wish I wasn't," Severus complained.

"Well, you do not get a choice," I responded before turning back to the crowd, "Anyway, here is the deal, you want to mess with them, you go through me, and by that, I mean I go through you. Now, do the smart thing, the cunning thing, the safe thing... and let someone else have a go first."

The silenced jeers became whispers at my display of power.

That seemed to have passed the message across, at least.

Just to be certain, I pushed a single command into their minds in the meantime, using my mind to make sure that it stuck.

"Oh, and one last thing," I said, leaning over the older girl still on her knees so that my lips were right next to her ear, "If little Bella ever needs to play rough again," I murmured, patting her cheek. "you know where to find me."

That, to my luck, is when the door to my back opened.

"What is going on here?" spoke the portly Professor with a walrus mustache, that I knew to be Horace Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin.

I met the eyes of the Professor, the remnants of the mental power I projected, allowing me to form a link.

'Please, do not let them be hurt,' I caught the thought that for a moment shocked me. Horace Slughorn was genuine in his wish to prevent 'the new students' from getting harmed. 'It would get me in too much trouble'... never mind that.

"Well, Professor Slughorn..." started Malfoy.

"The students were establishing their pecking order, as they are wont to do," said the portrait by the fire, causing everyone to start whispering. "It has been a while since one rose to take the reins of my house from the start," said the Portrait of Salazar Slytherin.

The Head of Slytherin looked between the portrait that never spoke and us, making a distinct imitation of a fish. "I welcome you, young Victor von Doom, and your retinue to my House," said Salazar Slytherin, welcoming us to his House and ending the discussion.

AN: Victor let's Doom out to play.

I am motivated by discussions, feedback, and criticism. If you wish to enable my coffee addiction, I made a ko-fi account here if you wish to support my work. I can only promise to spend the time drinking coffee writing my stories, and you get absolutely nothing else in return.Last edited: Mar 25, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:captainloser, Zombiep1zza123, Drakukeo and 1,825 othersGuldsdoneMar 4, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 007: In the Shadow of Doom New View contentGuldsdoneWizarding WorksMar 13, 2025Add bookmark#602The first night went without any trouble after my display of power.

In hindsight, maybe I had lost control a bit. Maybe... just maybe... I could have been more subtle, and less Doctor Doom about it, but something in me simply snapped at the potential threat to those that I cared about.

For a moment, I was back on that snowy mountain, facing against the Winter Soldier.

I had reservations about the whole thing. Channeling DOOM! was all fun and games, but it seemed I was somehow being influenced by the same thing that made Doctor Doom who he was. After all, the hardware was the same, and the software... I was not sure anymore. Was I... me? Or was I just Doom but with added bits of memories of a previous life?

In the end, it did not really matter.

Still, I left a hex on Lily, Meggan, or Severus that would notify me if they felt any distress as I simply lay in my bed, letting my body rest.

While my body rested, my mind was at work... literally. Taking a page out of Strange's book, I used my Astral Projection to take a stroll into the Hogwarts Library, careful to avoid any of the ghosts for the simple fact that I did not know what and how they would react to the Astral Projection.

I was, as Bellatrix has shown, lacking in regard to both versatility and non-lethal spell selections for self-defense.

I was also going to have to spend some time looking up counter-curses and enchanting to make sure that we would be prepared for any ambush.

Eight hours of mind-numbing theory later, I started my day.

---

The first lesson of Charms was rather straightforward. Flitwick taught the Wand Lighting Charm, which I had long since started using to practice my fine control.

There was a part of Wizardry that was built around intent and visualization, something that was not the case for Sorcery. With Sorcery, there was simple math of Equivalent Exchange, with the power equaling the effect you wanted, often working at a conceptual level that allowed for a mechanism that was closer to rock-paper-scissors in practicality.

Lumos could be used to create a light spell, but if one had the precision, they could control both the wavelength and the direction, like that Laser trick that I had pulled. Modification of the Incantation into Lumos Orbis Similarly, one could modify it so it could form a floating ball that cycled through the color spectrum with merely the intent and some visualization.

I was not the only one exploring, as Lily's wand was making the best impression of Christmas Lights, and Severus was trying to narrow the light into a single beam, only to get stuck at what effectively worked like a flashlight.

"Wonderful, Mister Doom," said Flitwick, clapping at the display. "Take a point to Slytherin."

"It is von Doom, sir," I repeated with a sigh.

It did give me some time to play around with Introductory Enchanting. I read up from the Library, at least, as I used the tip of my wand to carve a rune of Sowilo on a piece of branch I summoned from the grounds. Using the Lumos Solem spell as a precise laser cutter, it took me less than a minute to mark the wood as I watched the rune slowly gain a glow.

"Impressive work, Mister von Doom," exclaimed Flitwick, "utilizing the resonance between how the enchantment was etched with the enchantment itself. Why, I believe this will make for an interesting demonstration in your Defense Class for use against Vampires."

Needless to say, the lesson involved a lot of glares from Ravenclaws.

Clearly, they were jealous of DOOM!... and his friends.

---

The second lesson was Transfiguration, a subject that I was looking forward to for the simple fact that Transfiguration would boost my manufacturing capabilities and using Magic to solve problems with Technology was just step one.

As the cat transformed into the Professor, I got an idea that might help Meggan with her trouble of control, placing it at the back of my mind to handle after I got through my current task of creating an enchantment that can protect us.

What followed was a casual warning to not mess up in the class, which was promptly ignored, and McGonagall started on the theory.

"Remember, the power required for the Transfiguration is proportional to the wand power and concentration and inversely proportional to the viciousness of the initial material and the weight. The unknown factor..." McGonagall explained before stopping, "yes, Mister von Doom?"

"Is it the weight or the mass of the object?" I asked.

"Aren't they the same thing?" someone asked.

"Well, the mass of the object is a constant, while the weight is directly proportional to the gravitational attraction. So, a kilo of marble will weigh differently on Earth, compared to a kilo of marble on the Moon."

"Who cares, like anyone would set foot on the Moon," said someone.

"Nonmagicals did that four years ago," Lily piped in.

"Thank you, Miss Evans, for that particular information. However, on Earth, it does not matter, Mister von Doom," said McGonagall.

"Actually, ma'am, it matters as the shape of the planet means that the gravity on the poles differ from the the gravity on the Equator," I corrected. "Would you like me to design an experiment to see if the actual variable is mass or weight, ma'am?"

"Well, Mister von Doom, yes... that would be well," said McGonnagal, clearly surprised. "A foot-long essay would do for now, and I have someone from Transfiguration Today look into it if your method is shown to be thorough enough."

I blinked. That was like a single page of homework, which was rather tame considering what I was used to from my old life. Given that Transfiguration Today was the journal on the topic, I found the idea of publishing my findings rather exciting.

"Now, as I was saying, the z value is an unknown factor that has yet to be... yes, Mister von Doom?" sighed McGonagall.

"Is the unknown factor related to the phases of the Moon, as the moon is representative of change and already linked to rituals linked to Transfiguration?" I asked, lowering my hand.

"Why, yes, Mister von Doom, as the full derivation of the unknown factor is linked directly to the phase of the Moon, the closest electrical storm, along with the repetition of the caster, along with other factors that you will get into in your NEWTs," explained McGonagall, "now, as I was saying, the transfiguration power is something that you will have to get a feel of yourselves. Too little power and your Transfiguration will only be partial. In this case, I recommend you start over to get a feel of the right amount. Too much power and the process will lead to an explosion. The primary factors you can control are visualization and willpower, as I want each and every one of you to try it by turning Matchsticks into Needles," she said, waving her wand and passing a book of matches to each of us. "Matchsticks are ideal for this as you will get immediate feedback on whether or not you have used too much power, as it will cause the match to ignite. The base incantation for Transfiguration is Verto with a single clockwise circle, with the specific incantation being Ferro Verto with a clockwise wand movement."

A pause.

"Yes, Mister von Doom, it is anti-clockwise south of the equator," said McGonagall as I lowered my hand. "In case you ever travel to Australia or a similar location."

I suppose that was a valid question. I lowered my hand.

"Now, the counter to transfiguration is Reparifarge, with an anti-clockwise rotation," finished McGonagall, passing everyone a book of matches.

It took me five minutes to get the needle, keeping a perfect image of the sewing needle itself. Next, I turned another into a pinning needle and another into a syringe needle.

Once that was done, I started truly experimenting.

By the time I was checking how to bend the needle before returning it back to a matchstick with a "Reparifarge" only to get a bent matchstick.

I used the tip of my wand to carve a simple Sowilo on the wood of the match before transforming it into a needle. "Lumos" I cast, using the method of enchanting that I had learned from my late-night readings.

The needle glowed for a moment before the tip caught on fire, as the burning iron released a flash of light in the next minute, leaving behind nothing but a needle-shaped pile of rust in a hole made on the wooden desk.

I heard a stiff, "Mister von Doom, if you wish to mess around with Transfiguration so much, you may do so in Detention!" from the Professor. "Five points from Slytherin."

Everyone gasped, which was stupid. A chance to get one-on-one instruction from an expert in Transfiguration sounded like a fun idea.

The points lost, I would have protested against; however, that is if I really cared about something as superficial as House Points.

Instead, I turned to help my friends, finding that Meggan was already done as she seemed to be glaring at her nails, which were pointier and now sported a metal glint. Lily, on the other hand, was mostly done with needles that looked to have some grainy pattern that could be argued to be Damascus Pattern. Severus was the worst of our bunch, with a lot of burned matchsticks, with a few that looked to be on the way to becoming matchsticks made of metal.

"The reason you should not try to do it in stages is that once the first transfiguration takes place, it becomes harder to add another layer," I explained to Severus, who was sitting next to me.

"That is indeed correct, Mister von Doom. Take five points," said the Professor, again, not that I cared.

---

I piled the books in three groups as we sat on a desk in the Library.

"This pile is Defensive Spells, this is offensive spells that are not immediately lethal, and the last one is on Counter-curses. Pick one, and start mastering them until you are confident enough to teach the other two," I said, pointing at my three... minions.

"What about you, Victor?" asked Meggan as she frowned, as Lily reached the Defensive Spells and Severus to grab the Counter-curses.

"These are the books I already read," I said, pulling a book on elemental spells from Meggan's pile and placing it in front of her. I had a feeling that she would like that one, given her talent for Transfiguration.

Meggan frowned, glaring at the book.

"Meggan?" asked Lily, sensing something was wrong.

"I don't know how to read," said Meggan, hands clutching her robes, has her features sharpened. She did not say anything else, and we did not press.

"Lily, Severus, get to working," I said, clenching my teeth. This was not something I could tolerate. "I am going to work with Meggan to fix that issue."

"Don't you have detention?" asked Severus, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," I said, "Meggan, why don't you join me. This is something that the Professors should be aware of anyways, until you get the hang of it at least."

"Oh," said Meggan, shocked, her face returning back to her usual elven self. "Do I get to call you Professor von Doom?"

"Please," I said, with a grin, "I prefer Doctor Doom."

Lily snorted as we checked out the books. They were as good as any for reading practice, after all.

---

By midnight, I moved through the halls of Hogwarts.

It took me an hour to get the hang of the Disillusionment Charm, which I found in the Forbidden Section the night before, and ten minutes to cast a Silencing Charm on my feet, and another that made me scentless in case I needed it.

I was looking for a long-term Lab Space.

Finding the entrance was the most complex part of the location that I dedicated as my new lab space in Hogwarts.

There were many options, some good, others less so.

The first that came to mind was the Room of Requirement, the Come and Go Room, located on the Seventh Floor.

To anyone else, it might have sounded ideal. It was, after all, able to create anything you need, apart from food.

Those people were idiots.

The Diadem of Ravenclaw, a Horcrux of Voldemort, was located in the Room of Requirement. Being a semi-sentient item, it meant that it's presence and magic was an unknown factor one had to account for if they utilized the Room of Requirement for long term.

I did not know the full extent of the capabilities of the Horcrux nor how it might be able to interact with the Room itself. It was on the list of materials that I would need to research, as my knowledge of the Horcrux was limited to extremely evil because it required murder, extremely stupid because it required you to split your soul, and extremely shortsighted not just because the destruction of the pieces would mean getting permanently stuck in between life and death, but it also likely pissed off Death herself.

I did not know what a Horcrux could do on its own. Could it impose its own changes to the space? What would happen if I tried an extremely complex and dangerous Potion or Ritual and the Horcrux decided to spontaneously add something to the potion, change a component of the ritual?

To a Scientist like me, having an unknown, malicious actor in the location where you are conducting experiments sounded like an overly complex method for suicide.

My other options were rather limited.

A random room could not do, as it would have similar problems of anyone being able to enter.

The ideal option was the Chamber of Secrets itself, once I took care of the Basilisk in the Basement, at least. It was out of the way, locked behind an esoteric method, and spacious enough for me to utilize without any fear. It was also a place that only one other person could enter, the same person who did not have the balls to set foot on Hogwarts so long as Dumbledore lived.

Hopefully, I could somehow bribe or convince the Portrait of Slytherin to teach me how to speak Parseltongue since it was a language that could be learned and spoken by anyone, as Dumbledore and Ronald Weasley have shown.

If that did not work, I needed to spend time learning about Magic Portraits and how to extract their knowledge without their consent.

That left one option for a lab, at least for now... the Undercroft.

I looked at the large wall right next to the stairs that led up the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor.

That walls should not be here, at least according to what I recalled from the game. Everything else was a pretty decent match, apart from some shifts that could be considered a result of a century difference, but it was close enough that I was fairly confident this was the right place.

As I approached the Wall, I realized that it was not really a Wall.

I could feel something within the Wall itself.

Then it clicked. This was Magic, pretending to be a Wall.

I needed to do something that I did not necessarily enjoy doing... I used Dark Magic.

True and Proper Dark Magic, and not that puritan bullshit that Wizards crowed on about.

I released my Chakra into the wall, before letting it mix with the energy and pulling it back, consuming the external energy, using the method that Cogliostro had explained and one that I had perfected, inspired by how Sagecraft worked in Naruto.

Stealing Magic, aka Dark Magic.

Yes, it was possible. Yes, I was really good at it. And no, I did not really like doing it.

Absorbing some of the Ancient Magic into my own internal energies triggered something, as the wall started to clear away until I was looking at what appeared to be a mirror of some sort.

A mirror that started to crack before the cracks spread out into space itself.

I found myself in another space.

"This is the Mirror Dimension," I observed, looking around, being familiar with the environment. "Or at least a close parallel," I noted the differences and the subtle buzzing in my ears.

I took a step forward, though only after making sure that I had my Sling Ring on the chain around my neck. The cracked pieces of mirror made way to me, as I passed through the Wall itself, walking through the Mirrored Reality to the solid surface in front of me once more.

I looked around, finding that the Mirror Hogwarts was something entirely unique. There were parts of the walls that were still solid, parts that were moving and shifting, while parts of the castle itself unfurled as though I was looking at the form of a tesseract.

I took a few steps forward, finding another wall of similar structure, one that similarly shattered and let me through, this time back into Real Space into a dark corridor.

"Lumos Orbis," I muttered as a ball of light flew out of my wand and suspended in mid-air over my shoulder.

There, before me, was a large Grandfather Clock.

Now, how to unlock it.

---

# Dumbledore

Albus Dumbledore was, by nature, a patient man. He had learned long ago that the world rarely adhered to one's expectations and that change often arrived in the form of the most unexpected and extraordinary individuals.

Such was the case when he heard the name of Victor von Doom announced during the Sorting Ceremony.

"Doom of Man walks these lands, indeed," he repeated to his companion, Fawkes, as he indulged in another piece of candy.

It was a better interpretation than the alternative, at least.

Albus had thought that Prophecy was talking about his old student at first, with the way that Tom and his friends were starting to make noise until he heard the boy's name. Oh, how hilarious it was to find a Prophecy taking place in the most amusing ways.

Now, how to set it up so young Victor is the one to be the one that the Prophecy spoke of, instead of Tom.

Granted, he was not sure that was a better idea. He had some concerns regarding Mister von Doom's actions.

The boy looked far too self-assured for an eleven-year-old, the type of confidence that could easily turn into arrogance. It was however what Albus had heard through the Supersensory Charm, of the boy's decision to simply take over Slytherin, combined with the subtle hint from the Hat that got his attention.

And all that so he can protect his friend... young Miss Evans.

A part of Albus admired the decisiveness of the boy, the same part that left him without sleep thinking of his sister, Arianna. If only he had been as principled in his youth as young von Doom.

Alas, the past was in the past, and the present had its own challenges.

His problem, in this case, was how to help Miss Evans.

He was, after all, the Headmaster, and letting the protection of a student of his in the hands of a first year was the height of irresponsibility. Albus would just have to be more subtle about it, maybe support Mister von Doom on his actions, should they prove effective.

With the children of Tom's so-called Knights of Walpurgis attending Hogwarts and slowly pushing their beliefs on others, Albus was glad that he had managed to keep Tom from the Professorship he desired, though it was still not a complete victory with the way events were unfolding.

A Muggleborn in Slytherin was going to be a recipe for disaster... especially in this political climate... Albus could feel it in his bones.

Then again, it appeared that Victor von Doom might be the solution to the problem that Albus was able to foresee, a hand to balance the scales in the House of Snakes to a more reasonable end.

It still left a sour note on his tongue.

While Albus found the determination of young-Victor admirable, he would much rather not subject a child to have such responsibility as worry about the well-being of a friend over enjoying his child.

"Ah, Horace," Dumbledore greeted, eyes twinkling as the portly Professor entered his office. "Right on time. How are your new students fairing?" he asked, not putting to words the hidden meaning 'Is Miss Evans safe?'

Slughorn let out a breath, plopping into the chair opposite him. "I am surprised you have not heard, Albus," he said, smoothing his emerald-green waistcoat.

"I have heard many stories. You know better than me how the portraits tend to gossip. I would like to hear it from your mouth, Horace," said Albus, leaning back. "Tea?"

"I would much rather have something stronger," Horace responded as he sat down on the comfy sofa. Two crystal glasses moved through the air, filling from a tumbler of amber liquid.

"It is the von Doom boy. Salazar's portrait greeted them," said Horace after a minute as he took a sip of the alcohol.

"Heh," came the reaction of the Hat. "I knew it."

"And Miss Evans?" asked Albus, raising an eyebrow as he ignored the Hat.

"von Doom had already taken care of everything by the time I arrived," responded Horace. "From what I learned, the boy walked in and challenged Miss Black to a duel."

"I am sure whatever mutual animosity he has with young Narcissa in the Feast ought not to have escalated so," said Albus, dismissing the idea.

"Bellatrix Black," Horace corrected, confirming the portraits. "And the funny part is that he won... after he was disarmed."

"Oh, how fascinating," said Albus, not letting his surprise show, "Do you, perchance, manage to get a memory?"

"What do you take me for?" Horace huffed, pulling out a while. "Mister Malfoy was quite eager to show that I was right to choose him as a Prefect."

---

"How extraordinary," mumbled Albus after watching the way the boy had shown an obvious mastery over Wandless Force Spells at a level that was significantly beyond most Wizards.

It was also not impossible.

Students from Ugadau were good with Wandless Magic. Though most did not have such raw power, it was still possible for a diligent Wizard or Witch to gain such mastery over moving things.

He and Gellert had done it on their own over a Summer, after all.

"Obviously. When a portrait that has not spoken in recorded history welcomes a person to his house, you take note," Slughorn exhaled sharply. "Albus, I must ask—where did this boy come from?" He leaned forward, voice dropping. "By the time I made it to the common room, he had already fought and won against Miss Black in a duel. And he had Rodolphus Lestrange knocked out beneath his feet for cursing one of his friends, apparently. Albus he sent Mister Lestrange to the hospital wing. Vanished bones, Albus. Not broken. Vanished."

Dumbledore's expression didn't change, but the glint in his eyes sharpened. "That would not be the first case of such an injury this year, would it?"

Slughorn gave a slow nod, understanding the implication. "No… Rosier and the other Lestrange boy as well. On the train, yes? Their parents will be insufferable."

"A rather peculiar coincidence accident, wouldn't you say?" Dumbledore mused.

Slughorn hesitated before shaking his head. "You and I both know that this was no mere coincidence, Albus."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Slughorn sighed. "He is… peculiar, von Doom. I had a chance to talk with him. He is... different, not like... my other students." he said, not naming Tom Riddle, though they both knew who he was talking about. "Most of my students like to play games, rumors, whispers, manipulations like they are some sort of politicians. It is adorable most of the time, really, but it is a good skill to have, one that becomes useful in the future. von Doom did not play their games. He went for a demonstration of power that a Wizard could not counter equally."

"Magical Power," Dumbledore nodded.

Wasn't that the main problem in their world. In the muggle world, everyone was equal, while in the Magical World, some people were just more equal, as the saying went. Magical Power, something that was a mix of knowledge, intuition, and luck of the draw, made it so a select few were simply stronger than others. Those people played by different rules in their society and often found that there were not many people willing to enforce certain rules on them out of a mix of fear, admiration, and wish to ingrain themselves into power.

"Yet, his statement certainly seemed to resonate well with your other students," Dumbledore gave a thoughtful hum. Maybe his hope that Victor von Doom could be a good balance in the House of Snakes might not be that far-fetched after all. "Do you think Miss Evans is in immediate danger anymore?"

"Oh, no, my Snakes are not suicidal, and, well, Victor has shown that he is willing to escalate if placed in a position. I am much more afraid for the safety of my other students," responded Horace Slughorn, ever the politician.

"Then it is fortunate that they have landed themselves in the House that excels in self-preservation," Albus barbed, taking a sip of his drink.

Before Dumbledore could respond, the door to his office swung open again, revealing a stern-faced Minerva McGonagall, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Albus," she said, not even acknowledging Slughorn as she strode to his desk. "Something must be done about that boy."

Dumbledore smiled, "I take it you are referring to young Victor?" he asked, knowing that it was around this time that the first detention of the year would be done.

Victor von Doom seemed to be showing an effort to be the first in everything.

Minerva let out a sharp breath. "What gave it away?"

Slughorn chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "I imagine this has to do with their first Transfiguration class?"

"Indeed," Minerva said, crossing her arms. "The boy has no concept of restraint. In his very first lesson, he demonstrated mastery over first-year Transfiguration with infuriating ease. He turned his matchstick into a needle so quickly that I might have thought he'd swapped it beforehand. But then, instead of waiting for further instruction, he immediately began pushing the boundaries."

Slughorn raised an eyebrow. "Pushing the boundaries, you say?"

Minerva pressed her lips together. "He attempted to transfigure an enchanted object."

Dumbledore set down his teacup. "Ah," he said trying not to wince. He had done the exact thing in his second year, a mistake that left at least one scar to always remind him to Transfigure then Animate unless it was through Alchemy.

"Yes, ah," she echoed, irritated. "You and I both know what happens when one tries such a thing. The backlash was immediate—the poor boy incinerated his desk as the enchantment was mixed with the Transfiguration."

Slughorn coughed. "I assume he's alright?"

"Oh, he is perfectly fine. His desk, on the other hand, has a rather sizable hole. And as for his punishment…" She exhaled sharply. "I assigned him detention, of course."

Slughorn's amusement deepened. "And how did he take to that?"

Minerva's fingers tapped against the edge of her sleeve. "He turned it into a lesson for another student."

Dumbledore's brows lifted.

"He brought Miss Puceanu with him," Minerva said, her voice quieter now. "And instead of treating detention as a punishment, he spent the first half-hour teaching her how to read and write. She was copying lines, but only because he was showing her how. She wasn't just learning penmanship—she was learning literacy, Albus."

That gave even Slughorn pause.

"I decided that it was best for Miss Puceanu that I did not stop him," Minerva continued, "it was not a detail I was aware of, Horace."

"Neither was I," said Slughorn, wringing his hands. "I suppose I do not need to assign a Prefect for the task. Mister von Doom seemed to have the hang of it."

"How was his teaching?" asked Albus curiously.

"Decent, patient, everything that one would expect from a competent teacher," said Minerva, then shook her head. "That is not the point. The point is that once the lesson was over, he spent the rest of his detention debating me. He questioned fundamental transfiguration laws, Albus. He demanded to know why certain limitations exist, and—Merlin helps me—he wasn't wrong to ask."

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "And you indulged him."

McGonagall's cheeks flushed. "I did not indulge him. I corrected him. Or at least, I tried to. But he's—" She exhaled. "He's brilliant, Albus. And reckless. And utterly without fear. He does not recognize boundaries, and I worry what will happen if he does not learn them."

"I suppose I should prepare to give a more in-depth introduction in my first class this year," muttered Horace, causing Dumbledore to chuckle.

The moment lingered. Then, before Dumbledore could respond, the door creaked open once more.

"Ah! Am I interrupting?" Filius Flitwick's cheerful voice filled the room. He practically bounced inside, eyes alight with excitement.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Let me guess. This is about young Victor as well?"

It was not usual that his staff visited him on the first day, something reserved only in the case of troublesome students, be they for good or bad.

Flitwick's eyes widened. "Why, yes! How did you—oh, never mind—Albus, the boy is extraordinary!"

McGonagall muttered something under her breath, but Flitwick pressed on.

"His control over the Wand Lightning Charm is unlike anything I have ever seen in a first-year! Not only did he cast it effortlessly, but he adjusted brightness and color temperature on the fly! I watched him flicker the light to match his own heartbeat, narrow it to a beam. Do you know how much control that requires?"

McGonagall frowned. "Precise, certainly, but—"

"He asked me for recommendations on enchanting books after class," Flitwick continued, his enthusiasm undeterred. "And not in the way that most first-years do, either."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "And what do you suggest?"

Flitwick hesitated, then straightened. "I want to mentor him."

That caught McGonagall off guard. "Mentor him?"

Flitwick nodded. "A student like him needs structured challenges. If we do not give him proper guidance, he will experiment on his own, and we do not want him experimenting on his own, that is just a recipe for disaster."

"I rather agree," Slughorn mused, finally setting down his drink. "But my concerns are somewhat different from yours, Filius."

McGonagall scoffed. "Oh? You aren't here to gush about his talent?"

"I will defer my judgment until our first class, thank you very much" Horace huffed, lying as smoothly as he breathed. Knowing him, Albus was certain the boy would get an invitation to Horace's little club soon enough. "My concern is in guiding him in a way to prevent conflict, especially in Slytherin. I find the idea of diverting his aggression more of a necessity. As he has won against Bellatrix Black without a wand, Filius, I think your mentorship can be broader than merely enchanting."

Albus considered the idea... his mind going to the four students with vanished forearms.

It was certainly an esoteric choice for a spell but rather useful and, if Albus dared to say, efficient. It suggested something more than a bully; it suggested an iron self-control, a methodical mind, and a reasonable yet principled stance. It spoke of a maturity that Albus found curious from an eleven-year-old.

McGonagall turned to him. "And what do you think, Albus?"

Dumbledore exhaled slowly, gazing into the flickering candlelight. His mind, ever restless, had already made and discarded comparisons. Not like Tom Riddle. Tom had concealed his brilliance behind charm and deception. Victor did not hide. Not like Gellert either. Gellert had believed himself above others. Victor's actions were testament to the fact that he cared more than he let on.

No, Victor von Doom was unlike any student Dumbledore had ever seen. And that was both comforting and terrifying.

"I think," Dumbledore said at last, "that we should observe, guide, and hope."

"Hope?" McGonagall repeated.

Dumbledore's smile was distant. "Yes. Hope that this boy, who walks so easily between power and principle, does not lose himself along the way."

He did not voice the deeper fear that gnawed at his soul.

That he, Albus Dumbledore, might once again fail to see the darkness before it was too late.

Not again.

Not this time.