# The Head of the Snake
The corridors stank of blood and gunpowder.
Alexander Pierce stepped over the wreckage, the corpses of Hydra's finest lying twisted and broken. Some had been shot at close range, their skulls reduced to pulp. Others had their throats slashed as if by an animal.
A few still twitched—not quite dead, but far from alive—gasping for breath that would never come.
The walls were slick with blood.
Sparks still flickered from severed conduits where control panels had been torn apart, their screens displaying nothing but static. Gunfire still echoed in Alexander's ears. This wasn't just an attack. This was a purge.
Pierce felt his stomach tighten as he reached the command chamber.
He was left as the highest-ranking person in charge for the moment until a Head would arrive.
Alexander looked at the body pinned on the wall. Baron von Strucker was barely recognizable. A thick metal rod was driven through his chest, impaling him like an insect in a display case. His monocle dangled uselessly from what remained of his face.
Pierce forced himself to look away.
---
It took a week for the expert in the Asset to arrive.
A weak, rattling cough drew his attention. "Mein Gott," the short man exclaimed. Dr. Arnim Zola, one of the heads of Hydra and now his direct superior, walked in. He stood upright with the help of a cane, his gaunt features illuminated by the flickering emergency lights. His breathing was labored, his skin waxy. His round glasses reflected only the long-since cleaned-up carnage around him. He held a handkerchief to his face to save himself from the stench.
"Herr Pierce, report," Zola demanded, with a unique Swiss accent.
"We don't know, Sir," Pierce responded. "The Asset has gone rogue... tracking him took a while after he went dark on an operation in Sokovia."
Said Asset was currently twitching, strapped to a metal chair and secured with chains. Even with the physical restraints, a combination of experimental tranquilizers, gas, and tasers had been necessary to keep the single greatest Asset of their Organization down.
They had kept the scene as close to untouched as possible, the Forensics running through everything they could while Pierce waited for Arnim Zola to arrive.
"And ze arm?" asked the Doctor, keeping his distance as he observed the one-armed Super Soldier. "Has it been destroyed?"
"We are not sure, sir," responded Pierce, "The Asset was missing an arm when he arrived from his mission."
"Ah, zat explains the lack of trackers. We shall think of subdermal implants in the future. It is still remarkable that he did this much damage despite being a cripple. What was zat mission?" asked Zola, as he started reciting the command words for the control of the Asset once more.
"We do not know, sir," responded Pierce. "It was kept need to know, something about a potential for widening the operational capabilities in the region. Baron Strucker kept a tight ship."
"Too tight, it would appear," said Zola, going through a mix of command words in Russian, as the Asset's twitching stopped.
"The records… were burned, and the Asset was commanded to remove the traces of the mission before anyone could see them," Pierce voiced his investigation. "No trails. No leads. No name."
Another set of commands in a mix of German and French has the Asset's eyes turn glassy.
"The Asset's commands were compromised. I had to use the Primary codes to disable him. Someone who knew the secondary codes had control over the Asset," concluded Zola finally.
Pierce inhaled sharply. That wasn't possible. Hydra *always* had contingencies. There were *always* redundancies.
Except now.
"That narrows down our search for the one responsible," Alexander responded. "It seems to be an internal threat."
"Yes, it would appear so," said Zola, coughing into his handkerchief. "The arm was not damaged either; the socket is intact, unlike that run-in with ze Black Captain America; this was done with time and patience, with the Asset's compliance."
Now, all they had was a rogue element in their midst.
"Then Strucker's role—who takes over?" he asked.
Zola hesitated, "Fortunov will take over in Sokovia. SHIELD and CIA are running on the assumption that he is one of theirs." His gaze flickered upward. "He will oversee the non-scientific operations in the region, creating a new front in ze Cold War that will distract them from our operations."
"With all due respect, sir, General Fortunov is a butcher," Pierce stated simply. His contacts in the State Department had already given him enough intel on the potential assets in the region.
"How unfortunate, at least for the undesirables," said Zola, his hands gliding over the blueprints "I will take over the scientific research, there is a safehouse that can be used for the purpose. The mechanics that Strucker was working on will combine well with my latest project," he said, coughing into his handkerchief.
"What of the Asset?" asked Pierce.
"You will handle the re-education and re-integration of Sergeant Barnes. We shall have Doctor Fennhoff return from his retirement, rework the programming and make it more compartmentalized, ja. Once that is done, limit the exposure of the Asset, at least until we find the one responsible."
He turned back to the Winter Soldier, swallowing his frustration. Something had turned their greatest Asset and made it tear through Hydra.
They had lost control of their most dangerous weapon, and they had no idea why.
A clue, a name... anything.
Buried somewhere in the wreckage, hidden beneath the blood and the corpses, there had to be something.
A piece of burning paper fell on his shoulder, as Alexander quickly swept it away. The word on the paper got his attention before it was burned away, as Alexander could only catch a single word, 'Doom.'
He did not take Strucker to be so dramatic.
Something—someone—had made a move against Hydra.
For the first time, Alexander Pierce felt the unfamiliar crawl of paranoia. Hydra was always the predator. The hand that guided from the shadows. The invisible empire. Now, for the first time, Hydra was prey. And Pierce had no idea who was hunting them.
And when they found that person, Hydra would lead to their doom indeed.
After all, cut off one head, two more shall take its place.
---
# Victor
The Potion class was rather straightforward, as far as pure Witchcraft was concerned, at least.
Slughorn was knowledgeable and thorough, something that I appreciated. I could also feel the hint of calculation and glances in my direction, which probably meant that the Potions Professor was informed about how I had been like in the other classes.
It was a calculated risk, one that was meant to push each Professor to allow me to get a better measure of them.
There was also a method to the madness.
The books on Enchanting that Flitwick recommended were much more theoretical than what I was looking for, but I had something that would work to begin with.
The point of Enchanting that I noted was that function amplified function, just as means amplified means. That meant that a hat meant to preserve one from the sun could be enchanted to cast a shield charm, something that Weasley Twins of the future would prove useful, just as a Light enchantment carved into the object with light working more stably.
Transfiguration, on the other hand, while useful, proved a challenge. My initial goal to create items to protect those under my protection had hit a snag as I was now unable to enchant and transfigure objects.
My goal of crafting Rings of Shielding by carving them out of wood and transfiguring them had hit a snag after all. The precise amount of magic imbued in the enchantment required a more complex set of calculations to allow for stable transfiguration.
Though, what if I took a normal shield, enchanted it before shrinking it, before connecting it to a shield?
In Dungeon and Dragons illustrations, the Ring of Shielding had a shield-shaped head, after all.
Filing that under high priority, I added a Shield Bracelet made from interlocking round disks as an intermediate step, something that could also leverage Sorcery in some form, but also allow me to test the same effect with a larger object first.
Now, however, was not the time for this, as Slughorn concluded a rather remarkable introduction to why Potions were so valuable.
"There are many ways that one can invent spells, one of which is through the use of reverse-engineering the properties of potions. Most healing spells have been made to replicate the effect of potions that have been in use for nearly a century before, if not longer," explained Slughorn, "While I do not expect you to experiment with potions prior to your last two years, as there are many ways they can go wrong, however, you should be aware that the most delicate and tricky spells can be replicated by a potion."
I nodded, liking that idea. While my time was limited and my short-term plans prioritized Enchanting, I could delegate the Potions. Given that Lily seemed to be barely containing her glee at the potential of exploring Potions and Severus seemed to have a similar if more contained reaction, I figured it would be a fine plan, at least until such time that I could apply myself to Potions as well.
"Now, you will find the most basic of potions, Cure for Boils, on page seventeen of your books. I want you to read it carefully before comparing it to the modified version on the board. Your homework will be a comparison of the two recipes and explaining why one is better than the other. Now, pair up. As there are an odd number of you," he said, as I looked at him with narrowed eyes, "why don't I act as an assistant to Miss Puceanu. It shall also provide me with a vantage point to prevent any mishap from the rest of you," he said with a chuckle.
I considered the option before nodding. I suppose Slughorn wanted to walk Meggan through the process, given her inability to read, a problem that we were going to solve prior to Halloween, if I had anything to say about it.
"Mister von Doom, why don't you pair with Miss Black?" he continued, his tone light and jovial.
I cast a glance at Lily and Severus, already deep in whispered conversation over their cauldron. "No, the snake and porcupine are natural enemies," Lily was saying.
"So if we keep it on the heat, it'll explode when we add the quills," Severus muttered back.
I decided to leave them to their experimenting, trusting that the two together would not blow themselves up too bad, hoping that Narcissa was not incompetent.
While my duel with Bellatrix had been a show of strength, I did not have anything against her youngest sister, so a hand in alliance might provide me less of a headache in the future.
"Black," I greeted the girl, who seemed to be in a bad mood, using a small mirror to look at herself.
It made me notice that her black and blonde hair had changed from what I recalled from the Welcome Feast, "Afraid the fumes will mess up your fashion statement?" I asked, not in the mood for the vanity of Purebloods.
Narcissa scoffed. "If only. Bellatrix thought she was being funny—forcing my Black roots to show. I for one have no intention to see how her stupid spellwork interacts with potion fumes. So, unless you have a way to remove the spells, you will have to do the work yourself."
I sighed. That was just inconvenient.
Reaching out to brush a finger along her hair, using the contact to consume the spell that caused it with a small application of Dark Magic to negate the effects of the hex she was put on.
Narcissa's cheeks gained a blush.
The blackness seeped out of her hair, leaving her as a full blonde.
As I consumed the hex, letting it fail against my willpower, just as Narcissa's eyes widened at understanding what I was doing.
"T-that was Da-dark," she stuttered as I gave her a wink.
"Now that your distraction is gone, shall we?" I asked as I pointed at the cauldron before us.
---
I glared at the simple potion, dipping a pinky into the perfectly brewed sample that Slughorn was gushing over.
The Boil Cure Potion was one of the most basic of potions, meant to show the relations and symbology behind each ingredient, the slime of the slugs, the fangs of the snake, and the quill of the porcupine all meant to represent the clearing of the boil in a natural way. The rest of the plant-based materials were the simple ones common in healing scars that helped prevent scarring by injecting magical energy that was meant to provide healing.
Lily and Severus had already made their own version, along with a version that followed the recipe from the book, to compare their properties. The one that was based on Slughorn's modifications seemed to be much closer to the desired result, and I could see it had a stronger magical signature that aligned with something.
Our potion on the other hand, gave me more insight into the nature of the Potions themselves, or rather the healing half of the recipe.
It was Chi.
It was using Natural Energy, absorbing it and infusing it into the skin to force a healing effect.
I looked over similar healing potions, finding that they all had a combination of slug, snake, or toad parts.
"Yes, Mister von Doom?" asked Slughorn, looking at me.
"Sir, do you know if the library has a book on Eastern Influences on the Healing Potions?" I asked, simply cutting to the chase.
"Any specific reason?" asked Slughorn.
"I noticed that healing potions use a combination of Slugs, Snakes, and Toads, and I thought it might be based on some unique effect," I explained, getting a nod from the Professor. "It reminded me of a Japanese story."
"The Tale of the Gallant Jiraiya, yes. It is a rather unique treatise on the properties of the energies that the three creatures can naturally channel. I find the language a bit flowery for my taste, but that is the norm of the source. It has been recorded by the Greeks as well, independently, of course," said Slughorn, passing me a note. "There should be an original and a translation in the Restricted Section, and I think you are a responsible young man if you are interested."
"Thank you, sir," I said, taking the permission, not that I could not subvert those protections on my own.
---
Unlike the other classes, the Defense Against the Dark Arts was a disappointment.
Which, I suppose was the norm with that class.
A few questions to Malfoy had me learn that Professor Merrythought had retired three years ago after working over two decades.
Each of the Defense Professors had only lasted a single year since then.
"Mister von Doom, your questions are irrelevant to the lecture," stated the Professor What-is-his-face. I did not really bother to learn it since he would not last the year. "I do not much care for your arrogance or need to show off. The first years will be specifically learning the theory, identification, and avoidance. I will not have foolish wand-waving from you children," he went on to rant.
So, turns out that asking for the entire set of spells we were supposed to learn for the year was not the way to go.
As the Professor I-don't-care went to sit on his chair, one of its legs broke.
The entire class, being filled with eleven-year-olds, laughed at the man, shattering any thought of authority he might have wished for.
Must be the old wood, rotten on the inside, pity.
I cycled the absorbed mix of Chakra and Natural Energy from the wood in my own body, slowly processing it to convert the entire thing into my own Chi.
That was the trick to higher-level Sorcerers, after all.
Meditation to absorb the Natural Energy, cycle it to create Life Force, trade Life Force in the form of raw worship with Elder Beings and Realm Lords to use their conceptual power.
Seriously, what was I missing that allowed Merlin to add intent-based modifications to the Wizarding spells?
You know what, I might as well make use of this time for my own projects.
I ignored the class, only listening with half an ear, instead using the opportunity to look through Hogwarts, A History.
---
"Ah, Mister Doom," the Ghost said, as we walked out of the Library.
"It is von Doom," I corrected, looking at the Gryffindor House Ghost, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, also unkindly known as Nearly Headless Nick. "Is there a matter you wish to discuss, Sir Nicholas?" I asked, keeping my manners.
"Yes... ah... well," started the Ghost, making me sigh.
"Sir Nicholas, if you are going to waste my time, I can certainly leave," I responded.
"Well, right. Last night, I saw something strange while out on a stroll, you see," spoke the Knight. "It looked to be you, or at least what appeared to be a form of your ghost."
Right, my Astral Projection.
That was an issue.
I liked my unfettered access to Hogwarts Library.
"Are you blackmailing me, Sir?" I asked, folding my arms as my mind went through how to conduct a proper exorcism.
"Oh, my, dear," gasped the Ghost, "No, I would not think of it. Rather, I was going to ask if you had any means to interact with Ghosts."
"Sir Nicholas, are you asking me to complete the removal of your head from your torso?" I asked, taken aback by the request.
"If you would be willing," said the Ghost, "I know you Slytherins do not do it for free, but I can share all the secret passages and what-not of Hogwarts, at least within reason."
"I do not think..." I started, as something interrupted our talk.
"Ugly Maggy, Ugly Maggy," Peeves called out, "Some call her a House Elf, others call her a Goblin."
"Shut it, Peeves, or I will get the Baron," yelled out Lily.
Severus, on the other hand, responded with a hex that passed through the Poltergeist as it became intangible.
"On second thought," I said, walking as I grabbed an axe on the wall, pulling it to me with Telekinesis. "Let us approach your problem scientifically."
The white vapor of the Patronus formed around my hand, slowly coating the entire axe.
"We start with a known fact, Patronus can physically interact with Dementors, which are classified as amortal non-beings," I stated, walking with an axe at hand "Granted, their interaction with a Patronus Charm is on the nature that is used as a source to feed upon, but the spell is known to make contact with them, unlike any other substance."
"I fail to see where this is going?" said Sir Nicholas, as my friends noticed me walking with an axe toward them.
"We cannot jump directly to ghosts, that would be too great of a leap of logic," I stated, "However, a similar non-being, one spreading mischief instead of despair, is a nice point to bridge the gap, for Science of course," I said grinning as I looked at Peeves the Poltergeist, who just noticed me and gulped.
Pity he insulted Meggan.
Now I had to go American Psycho on it.
Let none say Doom is unjust.
AN: Hydra scene for those asking about what happened, followed by the last two important classes. As usual Victor is unable to stay out of trouble.
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 17, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:captainloser, Zombiep1zza123, LightningLogia and 1,640 othersGuldsdoneMar 17, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 009: Challenges of Doom New View contentGuldsdoneWizarding WorksMar 20, 2025Add bookmark#770# Victor
"If your aim was to traumatize the poor poltergeist, you have achieved it, Mister von Doom," said a tired-looking Dumbledore.
"The headless hunt accepted him," muttered Sir Nicholas, floating next to me and somehow emitting an aura of despair that I was not sure a ghost could. "They even rushed his application."
Unfortunately, while the experiment had worked, on the Poltergeist, I was unable to reproduce the effects of the method on Ghosts. This required further research.
"I shall look into alternative solutions," I promised the ghost.
"Sir Nicholas, please leave us; your punishment, I believe, is poetically just enough that anything more would be cruel," said Dumbledore, dismissing the ghost. "As for you, Mister von Doom, may I ask why you chose to attack Peeves? While I understand that he likes to make himself a nuisance, he is not malicious."
"His insults were cruel," I responded simply, "I do not take kindly to insults upon those under my aegis."
Dumbledore had the audacity to chuckle as the golden perch to the side spontaneously combusted, revealing a bird.
The energy I felt was familiar, the small fragment of the Sling Ring around my neck, beneath my robes.
Figured the portals were powered with the Phoenix fire travel. I still needed to test if the Portals worked inside Hogwarts.
My eyes locked on the Phoenix, Fawkes.
In turn, it's eyes locked on mine.
Poke, I sent a mental greeting, getting a thrill of sound in turn.
As I reached, I found myself in a white room with everything on fire, even as the fire did not burn me.
I only had a moment to pull back, realizing that the Phoenix had a direct connection to the White Hot Room, the source of the power of the original Phoenix Force.
That means these must be her embers of the main being.
Peculiar but good to know.
"Yes, Fawkes has that effect on people," Dumbledore chuckled. "As for your punishment, hmm, detention with me once a week for a month."
"Yes, sir," I responded, taking out a notebook. "What about Meggan's condition?" I asked.
"The staff are aware of her current struggles with the written portions of her work and will provide an accommodation for this term until she adjusts," said Dumbledore.
"And her out-of-control Metamorphamagus powers?" I asked, "I am told that she would be expelled if she did not gain control over them by the end of this year."
"And who gave you the idea that such a threat would be carried through?" asked Dumbledore, "If someone were to provide extra motivation for Miss Puceanu, I am sure it was made with her best interest in heart."
"Bullshit, as the Americans say," I responded in turn. "Professor, please look me in the eye and tell me there is not one overzealous pureblood in the Ministry who is looking to be petty for the sake of pettiness."
Dumbledore stood there, his eyes meeting mine with silence. The mental probe was slapped aside with unseen power, after which I responded with a raised eyebrow as the silence stretched.
"How would you handle such a problem, Victor?" asked Dumbledore, leaning back, "May I call you Victor?"
"Hmm..." I said thoughtfully.
I did not trust Dumbledore... not really.
I knew his history, and I knew that he was a Sorcerer of great power in his own right. I did not know how much contact he had with the Ancient One or other Sorcerers or where he learned what he learned.
In every interpretation, be it a man obsessed with the greater good or one who was willing to sacrifice everything for a boy to live, Dumbledore was a man who liked to keep a tight grip on knowledge.
Then again, this Dumbledore was not a caricature of a man that I remember reading about.
And I could respect his academic achievements and intellectual prowess, not to mention his experience.
Then again, it was I who is destined to become Doom, wasn't it?
I considered my options, my eyes landing on the Phoenix.
Most of the Wizarding World considered Phoenixes to be creatures of the Light. I now knew that each one was a mere fragment of the greater whole, a being of Creation and Destruction.
A Being of Balance.
'As all things should be,' the voice echoed as I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
Yes, I did not trust Dumbledore, not when it came to Voldemort. He was too emotionally compromised, his past making his actions limited in scope. But in certain aspects, this was a competent teacher and scholar above anything.
And he was told to go to war against the same students he watched growing up.
The only option that I really had was a test... to see how willing he was to help a student.
A test to see how far he was willing to reveal knowledge or keep it to himself at the cost of others.
"Could you get me a blackboard?" I asked, reaching a hand into my pocket and pulling out a piece of chalk.
As Dresden once said, having a piece of chalk with you comes in handy when you are a wizard. You never know when you will run into a summoning circle linked to Hell or need to correct an equation on a board... or something like that.
"Her current challenge is control and the fact that her shapeshifting is linked to her mood. So, we need to establish a conscious control. You have helped Professor McGonagall with her Animagus Ritual, which is what I have been thinking of in terms of control," I stated more than asking, getting a nod in turn.
"While the Animagus Ritual provided Professor McGonagall with greater control over her form, allowing her to develop multiple methods of new self-transfiguration spells. It is not a fool-proof method," stated Dumbledore.
"Not to mention the potential complications of a Metamorphmagus becoming an Animagus," I agreed. "Now, the idea that I had was to use a modification on the process, granting her proper mental control over her transformation without getting her to become an animal."
"How would you go about doing that?" asked Dumbledore, leaning forward. "Rituals such as this are extremely delicate."
"Well, the anchor of the Animagus Ritual is the Mandrake Root," I responded, "It has anti-transfigurative properties, which is why you have to keep the leaf in your mouth for a whole moon cycle, from full moon to full moon. The saliva, I think, is just an addition that was linked to the werewolf curse, but it is not the priority. Of the other ingredients, the hair represents thought and control, while the Chrysalis, the dew untouched by humans, and the daily spell used at dawn and dusk until the electrical storm are meant to reach out into the inner animal of a person, which is a rather useless skill if I had to be honest. Why would anyone want to be an animal?"
"Indeed," said Dumbledore, patiently listening and not mentioning that he had attempted the process in three different instances. "And the electrical storm?"
"That is for the transfiguration being done in an instant and linking it to the natural order of things," I said, getting a nod from the expert before me. I slowly listed the new materials, taken from the recipe of the Polyjuice Potion, as I slowly assembled my own ritual.
Soon, Dumbledore was next to me as we discussed the different materials.
"You are indeed correct that the Bicorn horn represents duality," he stated, looking over my points.
"So, Unicorn Horn," I stated, scratching out the portion of the ritual. "Individuality and purity."
"The Death's-head Hawk Moth Chrysalis?" asked Dumbledore, turning to me.
"Why Death's-head Hawk Moth?" I asked.
"Links to human form, the skull shape on the body of the moth," explained Dumbledore, "It is more symbolic."
"Linked to the relation between the slug and caterpillar," I stated, recalling the potion class and getting a thoughtful nod from Dumbledore. "We are not revealing what is inside, but we are still pulling on an innate power... something like butterfly wings... no, fairy wings."
"It would bring out the full potential," stated Dumbledore, "Gold spoon, not silver. It fits Alchemy, and the Unicorn Horn should handle the purification already," he added as I started deconstructing the Arithmantic Requirements for the amount of each material.
---
# Dumbledore:
"You know, Albus, when you summoned me to your office, I assumed it had something to do with the ghosts spending four hours chasing a panicked Peeves as he pursued his own rolling head," Minerva said dryly, staring at the blackboard. "On that note—how, exactly, does one behead a poltergeist?"
"It seems young Mister von Doom possesses an exceptional degree of control over his Fighting Spirit," said Albus with an amused tone, "There are only a handful of methods capable of affecting non-beings in such a manner. I must admit, it has been quite some time since I have seen that particular phenomenon outside of certain Eastern traditions." He folded his hands atop his desk. "Not to worry, I have asked Seraphina to contact a friend of hers. We will get an expert in Voodoo from Haiti to fix Peeves in no time."
"Of course, it was von Doom," muttered Minerva, "And to think all we needed was a Patronus to drive away Peeves. I think every teacher in Hogwarts who learns that detail will wish to thank him."
A beat of silence passed.
"Sometimes I wonder if this is what your teachers felt," Minerva added, her tone a little softer.
"Oh, Minerva, you give me far too much credit," Albus replied with a chuckle.
"And here I am, in your office, looking at what is likely the full breakdown of Morgan's Anti-Transmogrification Ritual derived from the Animagus Ritual, or re-derive it, I suppose," said Minerva, recovering from her shock.
"Did you get so bored with your three full-time jobs that you decided to reinvent a lost ritual on the side?" she asked sarcastically. "or did Mister von Doom manage to get out of discipline by distracting you as well?"
Albus gave a sheepish grin to his friend.
The Animagus Ritual, like most rituals, was based on a previous version. Said version was Morgan's Anti-Transmogrification Ritual, a process that had been developed by Morgan Le Fey in response to Circe's obsession with transfiguring men into animals.
The older Ritual had been lost to time, unfortunately, only the name and effect remained of it. The lack of need and the rather obscurity, even in the Transfiguration Circles, marked attempts at recreating the process moot.
"How much did you help?" asked Minerva.
And an eleven-year-old simply reconstructed it from a basic understanding of the building blocks.
"Just a touch with the Alchemy," Albus said with a proud smile. "He seemed well informed on the Animagus Ritual, along with some rather obscure potions."
This was why he had become an educator, after all. The job of guiding the youth as they discovered more about magic than any knew.
"He seemed to be determined to help Miss Puceanu control her powers," said Albus, looking over his half-moon glasses. "Apparently, someone told her that she would be expelled if she did not gain control over her powers."
The Deputy Headmistress and the Transfiguration Mistress of Hogwarts for more than a decade looked away like a scolded student. "I assumed that it would allow her to apply herself to learn to keep a tighter control over her powers."
"Yes," Albus responded, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "However, Victor also pointed out something else—a possibility I hate to admit is all too real."
"The Ministry," Minerva said, her voice controlled. "or something else?"
"I have to admit that I find the idea of both young Meggan and Victor being courted by other parties a cause for concern, should one or the other find themselves expelled," explained Dumbledore.
"Is it that bad?" asked Minerva, pursing her lips.
"There is a rising faction in the Wizengamot. Harrold's election and subsequent scandals have not helped the circumstances. These Knights of Walpurgis are proving to be a challenge that I find myself barely able to counter," responded Albus, "not to mention at least three suspicious deaths in the last year. There is a rise in the number of Vampire attacks in the country, Giants are becoming more aggressive, and the Department of Mysteries just cut off contact apart from the bare minimum as they are compartmentalizing. They only do that if they are expecting a conflict that the Wizarding World has to figure out themselves." said Albus, knowing that they had greater problems to deal with, problems that he himself avoided for multiple reasons.
"I am afraid that a War is coming, Minerva," he said, hand hovering over his wand of Elder.
"What do we do, Albus?" asked Minerva, concerned. "This is... he reassembled it from principles available to a First Year. Not to mention the ritual itself... it is far too dangerous. This would attract attention."
"Publishing it is out of the question," stated Albus simply. "Something that Victor agreed on the condition that we provide him help to complete the work after I explained the reasoning."
There was also a darker reason for the Ritual to remain lost after all.
There were a lot of rituals that had either minor or major transformative effects, as his former student's current form demonstrated. It made those who used such rituals easier to identify. Those side effects required expertise in Alchemy to fully account for and counter effects that the Lost Ritual could perfectly counter.
With the loss of Morgan's Ritual, those same rituals of empowerment had gone out of fashion, and those who had knowledge of how to conduct the original ritual kept it to themselves.
Albus disliked the idea of distributing this knowledge... yet he disliked the idea of a student of his suffering without it.
"As we have talked before, we guide young Victor as best as we can." said Albus, "We do not reveal this to anyone who does not know; we keep it buried. It is our duty to ensure their safety while they remain as students of Hogwarts. Could I ask you to work with Victor and Meggan on their little project?" asked Albus finally. "I managed to help him with the materials involved, but they will need someone who has a personal experience with the process."
"Like you have to ask, Albus," said Minerva, pursing her lips.
Albus smiled at his friend's response. He could always trust Minerva, after all.
---
# Victor
I inspected the broom in my hand.
Magic sometimes had a weird effect, especially when it came to Witchcraft like Brooms.
Were the enchantments so stable for flight because a broom meant for sweeping was, therefore, able to sweep you off your feet?
Also, why did ownership of a broom only work if it was gifted? A subtle rule that Hooch has instructed us in, but one that was kept from the books I read.
I made a mental note to see if a copper penny amplified Mental Magics as well.
"Come on, Victor," said Lily, only wobbling slightly. "It will be fine."
Meanwhile, Meggan was whirling around, swooping on the broomstick while laughing.
At least one person was enjoying themselves.
"Hah, maybe Doom is just afraid," said Sirius Black, causing James to chuckle as he whooped around. Pettigrew, it would seem, had already joined their group and sniffled despite the fact that he himself was only barely hovering about two feet off the ground.
"It is merely humiliating and archaic. No one uses Brooms in this age," I countered, instead using a Wandless Levitation charm to 'Lift myself by my bootstraps.' I rose, ending up level with Evans, my arms crossed as I looked at her smugly. "As I said, Doom does not need a broom to fly."
"Mister von Doom, while your spell is impressive," said Madam Hooch. "The class is meant to teach you broom flight.
"The class specifies flight, Professor, not the means," I countered.
"Fair enough," said Madam Hooch, who was effectively volunteering as the flight instructor during the Quidditch off-season
"Doom needs to get his ego checked," Lily muttered, looking away before jumping off the broom.
I sighed, watching as the redhead slowly floated down to the ground in an impressive application of Wandless Magic.
I lowered myself to the ground, landing on my feet.
"Show me how," said Lily, not caring that her broom descended to the ground without her.
"Lift by the bootstraps," I instructed.
A minute later, Lily yelped, flipping mid-air.
"And clench your core," I added, holding my hand. "Having two points to lift from is something you have to get the hang of."
Granted, I used my Chi control to balance with precision, but I was able to float while meditating since I was eight, so there was a difference.
"I thought the Magical Core Theory was disproven by Waffling a century ago," asked Lily, scrunching her eyebrows. "You ranted about that for three hours just after reading the theory book."
"Your abs, Evans, you are effectively standing on top of two sticks," I said in frustration, holding myself back from starting another rant.
---
"VON DOOM! FIGHT ME!" came the shrill voice of my ambusher.
I looked at Bellatrix Black while holding a cup of glorious coffee that I got from the Kitchen after threatening the House Elves with hiding clothing in all common rooms and organizing them to raid a Muggle Grocery Store with some of my own funding.
The spell caused my coffee to fly off my hand. The sacred liquid splashed against the stone wall.
Alright, war it is.
---
"Mister von Doom?" asked Dumbledore, appearing next to me for the first time since our little talk. "May I ask why Miss Black was found hanging by the rafters of the Clock Tower in what I can only describe as a marvelous application of the Traditional Japanese Art of Shibari?"
"Incarcerous practice," I said honestly, mentally bringing my respect for the old man up a notch. Granted, I really did not want to know what he and Grindelwald got up to during that summer in Godrics Hallow, but the man had depth, it would seem.
On the other hand, Bellatrix seemed to be proud, with her head held upright, as she walked with the ropes still intact, peaking beneath the collar of her robes as though it was some fashion statement.
Yeah, that was a bag of cats waiting to be unleashed, I suppose.
I turned to look at the Headmaster.
"Let me guess, sir..." I started, taking a guess "Detention?"
"Indeed, report to Professor McGonagall after class on Mondays every week for the next three months," he added with a smile.
I blinked. That sounded like it was already scheduled and this was just an excuse. Was I missing something?
AN: Honestly, most of this wrote itself. This concludes the introduction to Hogwarts. Next will be the Halloween chapter, with the start of this year's conflict as per tradition.
And Victor is not even that into Transfiguration.
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 20, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:captainloser, Zombiep1zza123, LightningLogia and 1,610 othersGuldsdoneMar 20, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 010: On the Eve of Doom New View contentGuldsdoneWizarding WorksMar 30, 2025Add bookmark#949# Victor
Time seemed to pass, with lessons and experiments interspaced with detentions, interspaced with more detentions for making random rooms explode while experimenting.
I blamed the detentions on whatever trick prevented me from entering the Undercroft. Someone had locked that place up really well, and I was unable to access my future lab space, forcing me to use random abandoned classrooms for my tests.
Which led to explosions, which led to more detentions.
Alas, the ability to casually send bolts of lightning around still evaded me without relying on Sorcery. I had at least found that rubber-soled shoes were essential for that branch of magic after accidentally knocking myself out for the third time in a row.
The good part was that it gave me a chance to get one-on-one lessons with the staff, not that they seemed to mind, most of the time at least.
Even if they did, Filch was easy to convince, so he would refuse any detention given to me. Call it a personal favor for terrorizing the Poltergeist, even after someone had managed to reattach Peeves' detached head.
It made my detentions more informative as I used the chance to pick the brains of the experts in Magic since the Defense Professor now had to either administer the detentions himself or have one of the other professors pick it up, and he was lazy enough to force the more competent staff to handle them.
Flitwick was helping out with my Enchanting, McGonagall evaluating my analysis of the Animagus Ritual, while she also got me in contact with a group of Transfiguration Enthusiasts willing to conduct my experiments in the Arctic and the Equator through ICW-approved portkeys.
It meant that my primary project took a few weeks to complete, as I dropped the three rings in front of my friends.
"Victor, what are these?" asked Lily.
"The more important question is, what are you wearing?" asked Severus, noticing what was beneath my green open robe.
"It is the prototype," I said, tapping at the chest plate I borrowed from one of the suits of armor lying around and showing off the blue shield that formed, rippling through the point of my strike, showing a shield that covered my entire body, "it is protection."
There were a lot of suits of armor in Hogwarts for a reason, though few that fit my size.
Luckily, Shrinking Charm was a thing.
"Victor, why are you giving us rings?" asked Lily, her gaze flickered over me again, a slight flush on her cheeks. Given her hair color, it could've been the wind. Meggan, on the other hand, wasn't looking anywhere but at me.
"They're Rings of Protection," I continued, ignoring whatever thoughts were brewing in their heads. "Took me a week to get them right, but they'll block a spell or two if you're caught unaware. Now, stop asking questions and put them on."
Severus, ever the skeptic, cast a Curse Detection Charm over his ring before slipping it onto his finger.
I didn't ask where he learned it, nor did I take offense. If I had truly wanted to harm them, I wouldn't need cursed jewelry to do it.
Only an idiot would die to cursed jewelry... ah... no offense to Dumbledore.
At least now, I wouldn't have to constantly babysit them, worrying whether they'd get ambushed the second I turned my back.
It was not the final form of my work; however, that was on my wrist.
The Shield Bracelet, the first proper Relic that I had created, lay hidden beneath my sleeves.
The design was relatively simple, seven round bronze plates etched with silver in the form of the Shield of the Seraphim, and each plate's back was etched with scripts praising Raggadorr in seven different runic languages.
Taking a page out of Dresden's book, I made a Shield Bracelet, combining the two strongest shield spells that I knew, The Shield of the Seraphim and Seven Rings of Raggadorr.
The Relic I crafted allowed for the creation of a seven-layered magical shield at the speed of thought with the energy that I had already invested into it as the power source. In turn, the seven shields would hold a mix of the two different Dimensional Energies, making it far more resilient than individual elements through Magical Resonance Theory.
Unfortunately, it was not complete yet, and came with a single drawback. Unlike the rings and the breastplate, which could be recharged with a shield charm cast on them, the bracelet could not recharge yet, at least not without spending a few hours tinkering with it.
With the breastplate delaying any explosion and the bracelet to call upon, it made the likelihood of blowing myself up while working on experiments with magic nearly zero.
With the problem of the safety of both my friends and me addressed, now I could focus on my real problem—getting past that bloody clock in the Undercroft.
Our morning, unfortunately, was interrupted by the Village Idiot... or the closest approximation of one.
"Mister von Doom, take off that ridiculous thing," Defense Professor called his tone a mix of haughty and self-entitled.
I ignored He-Whose-Name-I-did-not-care-to-learn. He was a subpar teacher who refused anything but the propagation of the obvious. 'Oh, Vampires are afraid of the sunlight; I don't know if Lumos Solem could harm them,' 'Oh, you cannot conjure silver, you stupid child, so conjuration is not a valid method of countering Werewolves,' as though a nine-inch railroad spike through the brainstem would not even inconvenience a Werewolf.
Fucking moron.
"Pick it up with Professor McGonagall, she is the one who made me write the ridiculous number of ways I might die while experimenting with spells," I responded, ignoring the man, "I am just being proactive."
"It is just being proactive, sir," corrected the man with a death timer.
"There is no need to call me sir, professor," I responded, unable to resist the temptation, as I gave the 'teacher' a shit-eating grin.
Severus hid his face behind Lily, his shoulders spasming, indicating that he was barely holding himself from laughing out loud like a lunatic.
"What is going on?" McGonagall walked in, her feline senses fine-tuned to notice a fellow teacher losing an argument... or losing it altogether.
"Professor here was mentioning how my last detention on writing lines has no bearing," I responded to the Deputy Headmistress.
"It was meant to discourage you from blowing yourself up," McGonagall responded, approaching us. "I thought lines would make it stick, Mister von Doom."
"It did, ma'am," I said, tapping the breastplate to show off the enchantment. "Personalized Shield Enchantment added protections to survive any accidental explosions. Also, as you have said, professor, safety first."
McGonagall sighed. "It was meant to stop you from trying to experiment, but small victories, I suppose."
I think I was getting the Deputy Headmistress to see things from my end.
---
I took a sip from the tea from the gain cup as I soaked up the warmth from the fire.
Scotland in the Fall was beautiful and wet.
While I would have preferred to spend the time experimenting, we needed help from the Groundskeeper on materials.
"Could you tell us about the Magical Creatures in the Forest, Mister Hagrid," said Meggan, as we all sat in the rather spacious hut at the edge of the forest.
We needed to acquire Unicorn Horns for the ritual, or at least the tests that McGonagall was having us conduct on rats.
I regret ranting about the lack of Scientific Progress to McGonagall. Now, she was having me design "a better method."
That meant that we were supposed to test our ritual on Anti-Transmogrification Ritual on rats beforehand.
Meggan simply bit into the rock cake in her hand, sounds of crunching coming from her mouth closer to the sound of stones grinding. If not for her unconscious self-transfiguration that made her strong enough to chew through actual rock, I would be worried.
Lily glared at hers while Severus seemed to be testing if he could strategically make it vanish without a wand.
"Spongify," I cast simply before biting into the now much more acceptable rock cake.
Lily turned to me, giving me a glare. "What happens if the spell fails after you chew it?"
"By that time, it will already be mechanically processed. Read it on Thirteen uses of Softening Charm outside the Bedroom," I repeated the title of the book, which was closer to a brochure in size, that was in the Forbidden Section... for obvious reasons. "Before that, Mister Hagrid," I said, interrupting the Groundskeeper, "Do you think your half-giant nature makes anything you cook naturally reinforced and harder?" I asked, causing the man to flush.
Silence stretched.
"Did I say something?" I asked, making sure to sound as confused as possible.
I honestly respected Mister Hagrid for figuring out the mechanics of bedding a giant and somehow conceiving Rubeus. That spoke of proper attitude for a Magus. Not so much a Wizard, though. As far as I could figure out, the only difference was wisdom, with Sorcerers being closer to the maniacs who willingly made unwise decisions... I think. The mechanics of this world were vexing.
"Victor, you can't call someone a half-giant like that," said Severus, of all things, digging his elbow through my unfortunately unarmored side.
"Why, it is not like it is incorrect. As for being a half-giant, I think it is brilliant. I think it is a proper Mage-like attitude to seek magical bloodlines to optimize your magic," I stated, acting innocently.
To be honest, I did not really care about whatever problem Hagrid or anyone else had with his heritage as a half-giant. The Purebloods were morons, while the Muggle-borns simply got too attached to their morals when it came to magic. The best option, I found, is to just rip off that particular band-aid and move past it.
Doom did not care for such irrelevant factors, like race or heritage. Doom was an equal-opportunity tyrant, after all.
"So Hagrid, have you experienced something where an item you made is naturally more resilient?" I asked instead, turning to the now flustered Keeper of Keys.
Hagrid looked confused now.
----
By my calculations, my disregard for Hagrid's parentage accelerated our timetable by a week.
It meant that we could complete our task of collecting Unicorn Horns before the snow made it impossible.
Which is how we ended up in the Forbidden Forest, guided by Hagrid, with both Lily and Meggan taking point.
Turns out, Unicorns really did not like hormonal teenagers, or adults. It sort of put in context that one detention that the Golden Trio got in their first year, trying to figure out who killed the Unicorns since they were pretty much the only people capable of approaching a wild Unicorn that did not know you.
Unfortunately, we got caught in the middle of a three-way war between the Unicorns, giant spiders, and another type of giant spiders.
Well, more of a territory war between the two spider types, with the Unicorn entangled in it, quite literally at that.
"Back, back," Hagrid yelled back, waving his arms to stop the two of the largest spiders from fighting or going after the Unicorn.
"Lacero," cast Severus, causing some of the legs to fall off the spiders. But not really managing to do much damage to the yellow spiders with spotted backs.
"Arania Exumai," I yelled out, pointing my wand and hoping the Incantation to carry me. The spell, courtesy of a teenaged would-be-Dark Lord, banished a black spider from the rival group, but it was not enough to end the creature.
"Don't know the wand movement?" Severus asked sarcastically.
"Not really," I responded, "try holding the wand with only your middle and ring finger if you want to test it."
Lily had managed to cast a Shield Charm that covered our backs while Meggan was shrieking as she set fire to anything with too many legs.
"This is getting nowhere," I muttered, seeing that Hagrid was distracted enough.
"Burn by the Bouncing Bolt of Balthakk," I muttered, waving my wand to trace the required glyphs in the air instead of conjuring them with raw chi manipulation in the form of a Magical Circle.
It was the only Sorcery that I knew that could safely be channeled through a wand. The result was a stream of lightning, according to the Ancient One after I sent her a report of my findings on the close relationship between Sorcery and Wizardry, safe enough to not cause the wand to blow up in my hand.
Also, Ancient One's last letter pretty much confirmed that Balthakk was pretty chill on modifying lightning spells, so long as you put the proper alliteration into it.
The bolt of lightning leaped from one spider to the next, using the spider webs to travel along and fry most of the spiders.
The entire spell effect would have made more sense if Spider Silk was not an insulator, but that specific spell used some weird mechanics to bypass the conventional laws of physics, which was also the reason it was safe to use with a wand as a focus.
Also, Chain Lightning goes brrr.
"I fucking love that spell," I whispered with a smile as the air itself smelled of ozone.
"Language, Victor," chided Lily, rolling her eyes before muttering, "Sometimes, I am concerned about you."
"Red, if you are only sometimes concerned, there is a problem with you," I joked, getting a huff of annoyance at the smell of fried spiders.
But Meggan's panicked voice cut through our moment of relief.
"Victor, help!"
She was crouched beside the Unicorn, hands hovering over its side, unsure what to do. Given that she had carved a fiery path through the smaller spiders with pure fire, her current panic was out of place.
I approached, observing the state of the Unicorn.
A spider bite. Deep, swollen, dark veins creeping outward from the wound.
Acramantula venom.
The Unicorn's magic fought back, but I could see it—feel it—losing.
I hesitated.
I knew what I could do. I knew how to do it. I had already done it before, even if not with the living.
Unicorns were creatures of magic, but the Acramantula venom, too, had its own magic. It meant that I could unravel the Acramantula venom easily enough.
But the means I had... if I used it—if I truly embraced that kind of power—where did that leave me?
A cold pit settled in my stomach.
"Victor?" Lily's voice was tight with worry.
I could let the Unicorn die.
I met the eyes of the Unicorns, causing a sigh to escape my lips.
Or I could do what needed to be done.
My hand hovered over the wound.
Then, I placed it down and let my will take hold.
In a moment, I felt the blood flowing through the body of the mare, feeling the poison clashing against her blood.
I suffused my Chi through the venom, letting its magic wash against my willpower as I made it mine and left it to degenerate.
Without the magic to empower the venom, I could feel how the Unicorn's magic burned it away into nothing, a stream of light suffusing through my life force.
"What was that?" Lily asked, staring at me like she didn't recognize me for a second.
I exhaled, flexing my fingers as if I could still feel the venom crawling over them.
"Dark Magic," I admitted.
Lily recoiled. "What—Victor, that makes no sense. You healed it."
"Because I took the poison away," I countered.
"But Dark Magic is—it's evil! Professor Thimblewood said—" started Lily, leaving me confused.
Who the fuck was Thimblewood?
"He is an idiot," Snape spoke simply.
"Wait, who is Thimblewood?" I repeated my question out loud.
"Professor Dumbass," Severus said, far too amused.
Ah, Defense Idiot.
Wait, was that his name... anyway.
"Well, yeah, Professor What-is-his-Face is an idiot," I interrupted, as my hands patted the Unicorn, "Dark Magic, is not inherently evil, just more likely to be evil."
"That makes no sense," Lily defended.
"Yes, it does," Severus responded.
"Define Dark Magic," I stated simply.
"It is Magic that hurts," responded Lily.
"It is Magic that takes," I corrected. "Transfiguration changes the form, Charms add to function. Potions leverage what is there for a different purpose. Dark Magic, proper Dark Magic, takes something."
"Like what?" asked Meggan, still hugging the Unicorn.
"Relief, Autonomy, Life, for the Unforgivable Curses" I responded, having come to the conclusion on the nature of the Three most notorious ones. "Dignity, for most weak curses," I added. "Even Rituals are often considered Dark Magic with few exceptions because you are giving something up in return for something else. That is what I did, I took the magic from the poison."
The Unicorn looked at me and huffed, her breath washing over my brow.
"She likes you," said Meggan, her hands roaming through the mare's mane.
"So, Dark Magic is what, selfish?" asked Lily.
"You have to be pretty selfish to be good at Dark Magic," I agreed.
I was also very good at it.
Told you a lot about how close I was to good old Doctor Doom, huh.
"That is stupid," Meggan piped in instead. "Clearly, your reasoning was not selfish."
The Unicorn approached me, giving a huff of agreement to Meggan's statement, before turning and walking away.
I ended up getting hit in the face by the beast's tail.
I sputtered, spitting out the piece of Tail Hair before catching it and putting it away.
I recognized a gift when I saw one.
'You are welcome, I suppose,' I thought but did not say anything. I had an image to maintain, after all.
I made a mental note to learn Flames of the Faltine next.
Eight legs was just far too many.
---
# Lily
It was the night of Halloween, and Lily was on a mission.
Her mission was to find Victor and celebrate the publication of his paper that came from his challenge to McGonagall in their very first class.
They had all gotten roped into the work, along with some Transfiguration Experts to measure the effect of transfiguration and gravity, concluding that the complexity was a factor of mass and not weight.
For an eleven-year-old, this was a great accomplishment and meant proper celebration.
Not to mention that it was Halloween, and there was candy everywhere.
"Sev, have you seen Victor?" asked Lily, approaching her friend. "I have looked through the abandoned rooms one through twelve, but he was not in any one of them."
The Rooms, ten through twelve, were, in fact, untouched, apart from some ominous burn marks that magic could not remove from the experiments that Victor conducted during his first two months at Hogwarts. But, there were no new marks on the walls either, so he had not been in any one of them.
"You know how Victor is," responded Severus, "he has probably disappeared off to wherever he disappears again."
"What are you not telling me?" Lily demanded, looking at his friend.
"Fine, he looked, weird this morning. He kept talking about brewing. He is probably trying to make a potion or something," responded Severus.
"He was not with Sluggy," Meggan piped in, blushing at her outburst. "I was scrubbing cauldrons for the last hour after melting the cauldron of a Forgetfulness Potion because I forgot to add the Jabberknoll feather on time."
"Who would know where he is?" asked Severus, now interested.
"Avery, maybe?" suggested Lily, "He has been keeping track of where Victor is all the time so he can avoid those places. What did happen to make Victor put a hex on that idiot?"
Severus looked away, a shudder running through him. "Avery does not know; he only does that when he does not have to be in the same room with him for classes or feasts," he explained. "He even moved to the upper-year dorm."
"Black might know," suggested Meggan.
"I don't know or care what you think I know," came the blonde sitting close to them.
"We meant the Eldest Black," the three spoke at once. Bellatrix Black had gotten into the habit of stalking after Victor, randomly challenging him to a rematch, only to be defeated every time.
"Meggan, she is sort of nice to you, so you ask Black," said Lily without hesitation.
"She is only nice because she thinks I am a Black for some reason," defended the Metamorphamagus. "And because Victor threatened to skin her alive if she so much as looked at me wrong after she said I am probably a bastard."
"Exactly," said Severus, as Meggan's hair shifted down to brunette. "That is nicer than she is to anyone."
"No need," Lily spoke, her eyes catching two Gryffindors who looked to be sulking as they entered the Great Hall. "Check out Black and Potter."
Meggan sighed in relief, before seeing the state of the boys.
Potter sported a massive pair of antlers, while Black seemed to be hiding what appeared to be a black fluffy tail behind him.
"McGonagall is going to be pissed," muttered Severus, "He is not allowed to use human transfiguration on students."
"Come on," said Lily, grabbing her friends.
"You sure about that? Those two behave weirdly around us," said Meggan.
"Either that or the crazy fifth year, so choose," Lily said with a sigh.
"The fifth year is less annoying and self righteous, though," Severus not really liking the idea.
The trio made their way to the Gryffindor table.
"Oh, look who it is, a couple of slimy snakes making their way to the table of lions," someone jeered.
"Snakes aren't slimy, Starling," an older girl spoke up, "Then again if you knew that, you would not be failing Potions in your OWLs."
"Ignoring the Peanut Gallery," Lily said dismissively, channeling Victor. "Potter, Black."
"Evans," said Potter, turning his head and nearly poking Lupin in the eye. "Finally decided to ask for a resorting to get to the House of the Noble and Brave?"
"I am fine, thanks," Lily responded, "Where is Victor?"
"Why should we know where that Git is?" Black asked, offended.
"Victor is not here," Severus said, "Clearly, these lots do not know."
"Shut up, Snivellus," spoke up Black, making Severus glare in turn.
"Yeah, shut up, Snivellus," a chubby boy piped in, giggling to himself.
"Severus, you are not allowed to curse Pettigrew," Lily simply dictated, not letting Severus reach for his wand. "Victor says it is wrong to attack the differently abled."
"Oi," defended Pettigrew, before being promptly ignored.
"Right, like Sirius said, what makes you lot think we know where that git is?" Potter spoke up.
Lily shifted her gaze to the tail and the antlers.
"I could reverse the spell that was on you, I know the counterspell," said Meggan piped in with a smile, only to blush at her own outburst, "What? I am good at Transfiguration."
"Meg, you are the best at Transfiguration," Lily said, encouraging her friend.
"Fine... he is in the kitchens," Remus Lupin spoke out.
"How can you tell?" asked Severus.
"These two were heading to kitchens for a... ahem," started Lupin, only to cough and look away.
"A prank," Lily concluded. "Of course. Meggan, fix the two. Make it hurt if you can."
"Right," said Meggan, taking out her wand, "I did not try this spell before, so it might take a while, Reparifargo Homorphum."
It took a few more tries before the spell fixed both the antlers and the tail, long enough for McGonagall to come in and give them a few points for being proactive.
"Establishing a baseline for the process is important, Meggan," spoke Meggan, her tone haughty and stiff. Overall, it was a very close approximation of what Victor sounded like when lecturing. "Then the jerk pulled out the Homorphus spell just to prove it was possible, and messed with my ears," she added, reaching out and rubbing her pointy ear.
"We all love that it is pointy," Lily said immediately, making Meggan cheer up. "I am sure Victor did not mean to change it permanently."
"I know, and he apologized, so we are good," piped in Meggan.
"To the kitchens, I suppose?" asked Severus, taking the lead.
---
The kitchens were one of the first places that Victor had shown them in the castle. Hogwarts had a lot of passages, and Victor somehow knew most.
Tickling the pear to gain entry, though, it sounded like some sort of a joke. Lily wasn't sure, and Victor refused to elaborate.
"There he is," Meggan said, jumping forward, only to get rushed by small... somethings.
"House Elves," whispered Severus, as if that explained everything. "They are the help."
Meggan seemed to be enjoying the little helpers, as her ears became pointier, and she looked less like another student and more a royalty being attended by her people.
It also explained the whole Half-Elf comments that she got, Lily had to admit. They were still an arse for making those comments, but at least it made sense now.
"What exactly is a House Elf?" muttered Lily.
It was Victor, who spoke up. His eyes did not move from the large pot he was stirring.
"They are a crossbreed of Lares, Roman House Spirits, and Brownies, with a dash of what I think is Light Elves. They are not technically Fae, but still, be careful with how you talk to them," Victor spoke up, his tone somber. "I would still not thank them, or say that you will give them anything, or make a promise to them.... just speak your demand and don't give them your name or firstborn if they ask for it. They might just keep it."
"You repeated yourself," Lily said with a grin.
"Because it bears repeating," responded Victor, "Next thing you know, you are wandering around addled, unable to recall your name."
"Oh, nos, sir, that would be mighty rude to a guest," spoke one of the Elves.
"I am watching you," snarled Victor, causing the House Elf to meep and duck under cover.
"What is this?" asked Lily, approaching the pot. "Some sort of strengthening potion?"
"It is Paprikash," Victor said, adding some cream to it. "It is something Mother used to make on All Hollow's Eve. It is... tradition. The House Elves allowed me to use the kitchens since they did not know how to cook one."
Lily hummed, while Meggan distracted the Elves.
"This is the first time I am making Paprikash without them," Victor whispered, causing Lily to freeze before she made up her mind.
Reaching to get some plates, she held them up, "Come on, we can all eat together."
"Thanks, Red," Victor said with a smile, his mood much lighter.
---
"VON DOOM!" came the voice of a frustrated McGonagall.
"What did you do?" whispered Lily, more amused than frustrated.
"Not me, this time," said Victor, his eyes roaming over the hallway filled with ice that was blocking the way. "This appears to be some form of Cursed Ice."
The ice grew an inch when someone cast a spell on it.
"Yeap, definitely Cursed Ice," Victor said, eyes gleaming with interest.
---
# The Empress
Augusta walked through the hallways, her usual vulture hat replaced by the non-descript robes of the Unspeakables, her hood covering her face.
"Empress," her peer greeted.
'Tch, typical of Algernon to be so stiff,' Augusta thought to herself.
"Croaker," she replied still.
"Is it true?" Algernon asked, making Augusta's eye twitch in annoyance.
"Let us wait for others," she responded.
They did not need to wait, as soon, the other members of the Department of Mysteries entered the meeting room.
"The Artifact was lost," Augusta finally reported with a sigh.
"How did it happen?" asked Python, his tone sharp with concern.
"We had to recruit an outside expert to complete the mission. She was being scouted as a potential recruit to the department," Augusta explained. "The expert provided essential contacts within the Underworld, through her family contacts. Experimentation proved fruitful. However, we were betrayed."
"Tch. That is what happens when you trust devils," Algernon said, venom dripping from his voice.
"It was the expert who betrayed us, not the demons," Augusta countered, rolling up her sleeve to reveal a burned scar—a sigil scorched into her skin, only partially healed even as it looked to be fresh. "The Artifact proved fickle, both in control and in mastery. We believe Dark Magic was involved."
Python narrowed his eyes. "The fact that you're alive after an artifact forcibly changed ownership is a miracle."
"It was a calculated risk," Augusta corrected him. "We sought this particular artifact for its tendency to shift possession at arbitrary intervals. We haven't figured out the rhyme or reason. However, the nature that it could change hands made the Artifact our best chance at studying one of those cursed things."
"How did it happen?" asked the fourth member of the group, Eidolon.
"We believe the expert leveraged the power of the new Dark Lord to claim it. Rumors stated that his experimentations into Necromancy and Soul Magic are proven to be dangerous, making claims to have gone beyond anyone along the path that leads to immortality."
Eidolon snorted at that, a high claim given what they were sworn never to speak of. He spoke up, his voice like a whisper from the Veil itself that Eidolon spent too much time around. "Do you expect the Artifact to be deployed?"
"No," Augusta said, shaking her head. "The Expert is violent and willing to resort to violence without provocation. She is, however, still a coward at heart. She will likely remain behind her family's protection or in public enough events that any interference would lead to collateral. Should she emerge, we are ordered not to engage. The Artifact is beyond our level."
Algernon's frown deepened. "That order—did it come from the Master of the Sanctum?"
"No. It came from higher up."
A ripple passed through the chamber as the fifth voice entered the conversation—calm, measured, and commanding.
"Master Rama," the four bowed in respect.
Sol Rama, Master of the London Sanctum, stepped forward, his aura suffused with Ancient Magic. "You are not to engage the Dark Lord," he said simply. "A specialist has been assigned to the problem."
Python's curiosity got the better of him. "And we don't know who this specialist is?"
"No," Rama answered. "You are to enact War Protocols to the fullest."
Eidolon let out a soft chuckle. "So we have a spy among us." He tilted his head slightly. "I'd wager it's that Rookwood boy. His offer of the Ancient Magic Repository was far too convenient."
Python exhaled sharply. "Didn't Empress suggest he withheld part of the repository? That would mean the Dark Lord has access to a reserve of Sorcery. The loss of the Artifact—combined with that little fact—makes me uneasy."
"Your personal concerns are irrelevant," Rama said, his voice unwavering. "The state of the Wizarding World must resolve itself. The specialist will handle it. This situation requires a delicate balance."
With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a portal, the air shimmering with cosmic energy.
Eidolon's smirk barely shifted. "What do we call this specialist?"
Rama smirked. "You may refer to them as the Doctor in any official capacity. You are to not make contact and run interference with the Ministry should it come to this."
Python snorted at the name, "You lot and your references. Isn't that from that show" Fleamont, who went by Monty during the time he got his codename.
"You expect us to figure out this person?" asked Eidolon, confusion apparent in his voice.
"You will figure out who it is if he draws the attention of the Ministry," responded Sol, "Your task is to ensure that the Ministry does not act to raise his ire, only to be fully deconstructed for tickling the sleeping dragon."
Without another word, the Master of the Mystic Arts vanished into the portal.
The remaining four stood in silence for a moment before dispersing.
Python, Fleamont Potter, returned to refining his experimental Luck Potion—attempting once again to align Felix Felicis with Divination principles.
Eidolon, Cassius Greengrass, made his way back to the Death Chamber, already mentally drafting his twenty-fifth proposal of the year—this time to pluck an eye out and throw it into the Veil from the stray thoughts that Augusta managed to catch. It would be rejected, of course, just like every proposal he had written for the past twenty-two years.
"I am off. The brains need tending to," said Augusta.
Algernon Crouch, finally rid of his formal robes, turned to his sister. "Who was the expert, Augusta?"
Augusta Longbottom clenched her fists.
"Black," she snarled. "Walburga Black."
AN: And the plot thickens, DxD elements slowly making their way, and the adults are playing their own games.
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