"Lord Olario," she mumbled, as a looming Antonio Olario came into view.
"The one and only," Antonio remarked with a beaming smile.
"Professor McGonagall," Antonio greeted Minerva as Lily was finally able to stand up and take in her surroundings.
She found herself standing in a clearing inside a dense forest. It was the same spot where Minerva had dueled with Antonio inside the Forbidden Forest.
Antonio turned back toward Lily. "You will get used to magical travel. It happens to everyone for the first few times. Nothing to worry about."
Lily nodded absentmindedly. She was quite confused and was not able to make sense of the situation.
"Lily," Minerva's words drew Lily's attention back to her professor. "Meet your tutor, Lord Antonio Olario."
"He has very generously agreed to train you and turn your potential into talent. He will help you become what you are meant to be. Someone who can stay protected in the outside world."
"It has not really been a matter of generosity on my part," Antonio replied, referring to the price Minerva had agreed to pay. "But the rest of it? I will surely help you accomplish those goals."
Lily, though confused by this sudden development, nodded her head in acknowledgment.
"I guess I will take my leave then," Minerva said with a small smile. Facing Antonio, she continued, "Lord Olario, I will leave Lily in your care then. I will come to pick her up in a few hours."
"Yes, Professor McGonagall," Antonio nodded.
With one final glance and a nod at Lily, Minerva vanished from her spot.
There were a few moments of weird silence before Antonio turned toward Lily.
"So, Miss Evans," he smiled. "I assume you are a bit surprised to see me here."
Lily nodded. "I had not been expecting to see you here."
Antonio chuckled in response.
"I do not know if Professor McGonagall informed you or not," he said, "but every Saturday and Sunday, that is, two days a week, you will train with me here. I will teach you everything that I know and that you are capable of learning."
"There will be no limitations set upon your education. You will learn the so-called Dark Magic just like any other magic. Because when you have to save your life, no one will spare you just because you did not know the Dark Arts."
"I want you to let go of any prejudice you have of any kind," he said firmly. "Every form of magic can be used as dark magic. I can use a Levitation Charm to drop a boulder on someone's head. Only the wizards and witches can be evil, not the magic itself. Am I clear?"
"Yes," Lily nodded.
"Good," Antonio replied.
"Now," he said, "draw your wand. First, show me what you are truly capable of. Fire spells at me with the intention to kill."
Lily nodded as she pulled out her wand.
.
.
.
Voldemort was sitting on a large sofa in the middle of a massive hall of a massive stone castle. The illumination in the hall was very low, the kind of environment a Dark Lord should prefer.
The decorations in the hall and the castle were minimal, only a few pieces of furniture and a couple of magical lanterns. It was obvious that everything had been set up in haste.
Apart from Voldemort himself, it did not seem that anyone lived there or even had been inside the castle. The hall was situated inside an ancient, isolated Muggle castle, situated in the middle of nowhere, that Voldemort had seized and repurposed as his sanctuary.
It felt as if a string of misfortunes had struck him over the past few days. First, the attack on Bones Manor had failed. The biggest setback of his life.
Because of that failure, and the resulting threat, he had been forced to abandon his former base and relocate to this new, secret location.
Then, inspired by his false rhetoric to do as they please, a group of Death Eaters had launched an independent attack on Hogsmeade. What a foolish act it had been. Despite knowing how reckless it was, Voldemort had been left with no choice but to praise and glorify the strike to maintain his image.
He had known that a response from Dumbledore was imminent and certain. The old man could not take this lying down. His dignity had been crossed and his influence and power questioned. And this was not something he would allow to go unanswered. One did not provoke Albus Dumbledore lightly. And the old coot had delivered his response. He had shed his apparent mask of neutrality and declared his intent to slaughter Death Eaters. Soon after, the bodies of two Death Eaters were discovered. Voldemort was certain it was Dumbledore's handiwork.
As if that were not enough, Antonio Olario had dared to challenge him to face Dumbledore. Challenge the Dark Lord?
It was not the first time Voldemort had heard the name of Antonio Olario. He remembered it from when Rodolphus had attacked the man's house and suffered a humiliating defeat. At the time, Voldemort had ignored him.
But now, that man had become courageous enough to utter his name? To call him a coward? Voldemort knew the entire wizarding society was waiting for his response. They were wondering if he would truly march against Albus Dumbledore. And he had to give an answer. Otherwise, all the fear and terror he had created in all these months would vanish.
But No. Not Dumbledore. Not yet. It was too soon. He needed to consolidate more of his power before he challenged the old man.
But someone needed to be taught a lesson, and that someone was Antonio Olario. An example had to be made of the man. The world needed to know that challenging the Dark Lord was nothing short of blasphemy. Even uttering his name should be a crime.
This time, the Dark Lord would move personally. He had to show the world the absolute power he wielded at his fingertips.
"My Lord," the voice of a man echoed through the hall as he emerged from one of the side rooms. "It is done."
The man was a Death Eater and a renowned Potioneer. He was holding a glass flask in his hands, filled to the brim with a shimmering liquid. A wide smile was plastered on his face. He was deeply pleased that the Dark Lord had decided to trust him. Having been given such a great responsibility and being the first privileged enough to know the location of this new base, his chest had swelled with pride.
Voldemort nodded.
"He is no longer required, I presume?" he questioned, gesturing toward a man tied to a wooden chair in an unconscious state.
"No," the Death Eater replied. "Even if the need arose, I have plucked enough hair from his head and preserved it."
"Good," Voldemort replied. A flash of green light left his wand and struck the unconscious man. The Killing Curse. The man was dead instantly.
The Death Eater was stunned for a moment.
"No loose ends," Voldemort remarked with a thin smile.
"Yes," the Death Eater nodded, though before he could process the thought, another spell left Voldemort's wand and struck him square in the chest. Another Killing Curse. Another death.
The flask slipped from his hands as his body fell with a heavy thud. But before the glass could touch the ground, another spell flew from Voldemort's wand, and the flask floated safely into his hand.
"No loose ends," he whispered to the empty room, a cold smile playing on his lips.
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