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Rise of the Dark Angel	By : isabel88 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 61368 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 12
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does, as such, I am NOT making any money off of this....

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Title: Rise of the Dark Angel

Author: Izzyb09

Beta Reader/Co-Author: Tonks-is-cool.

Chapter: 12: In With the New, Out With the Old

Settings: AU after OOTP: It's canon up to the beginning of the battle at the DOM when they are in the veil room, after that, it's AU and mine and T-i-C’s.

Pairings: HP/DM; LV/SS; LM/RL; NL (CL)/LL; RL/BL

Warnings: This story will contain mentions of Violence, Child Abuse, Adult Language, Alcohol Use, Slash/Het Sexual situations and Death. Please discontinue reading if such scenes or themes are offensive to you.

AN from Tonks-is-cool: Dear readers, I apologize for the appalling long wait, real life got very demanding and I suffered from writers block, a most evil combination, so I wrote something else until I got back to fiddle again with chapter 11 of RDA. Give a heartfelt thank you to my husband; he provided inspiration for the scene dealing with Madam Umbridge. I rewrote this chapter several times and hope it now is good enough to at least get an Average or maybe even Exceed your Expectations. All your fabulous reviews do put a lot of pressure on me, but I am delighted that you enjoy our story so much. Thank you for your enthusiastic response, it means the world to me and Mykkila09. Now enjoy! Ahem, beware the M rating for gore and character death.

Disclaimer: I own nothing…if I did, Ginny would have died in the CoS, Dumbledore would have choked on his lemon drops and Harry would have stood up for himself against Molly and Dumbledore.

Disclaimer 2: this story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

"Talking"

'Thinking'

|Hedwig’s mental speak|

Letter or commentary/introduction and flashback

{Parssseltongue}

~…~ indicates scene change

O.P.D.: Friday 29^thApril, ‘11

Last time on RDA;

“Unbelievable,” Snape’s complexion had paled a little. “To think, I was this close to having not only you two, but Harry in my house as well.”

“Slytherin would have won the House Cup all these years,” Harry laughed, “if all three of us were in Slytherin and on the team.”

“The things you could’ve done,” Snape shook his head, “thank Merlin for small favours. If you three had been sorted into Slytherin, where you no doubt would have developed your abilities even further, the school would not have survived.”

Everyone laughed at that. After that, the talk shifted onto more pleasant matters; Blaise and Pansy had expressed their appreciation for the new looks of the teens, often teasing the boys, delighting in the flushed cheeks. All in all, as far as everyone was concerned, the day—and night—couldn’t have gone better.

On the day after the visit to Diagon Alley, and speaking with Pansy and Blaise, Harry decided to speak to the Dark Lord about his boon. After lunch, he went to his bedroom and scribbled a short letter.

Marvolo,

When are you free, today or tomorrow? I´d like to speak with you about the favour, please.

Harry

He rolled up the parchment and sealed it; then, he tapped it with his wand and cast a simple Parseltongue locking charm on it. Voldemort had suggested establishing this routine for security reasons, regardless if they sent a letter with owl post or Hedwig. If it was routine, a habit, then there was less danger to forget it later when Harry was back at Hogwarts, when it was really necessary to keep their communication private. Finished with this task, he called, "Hedwig." A moment later, the white phoenix flashed into his bedroom.

"Hedwig, please deliver this letter to Lord Voldemort, but don´t flash into his study, you know he doesn´t like that. You can give it to Lucius or one of the house elves as usual. Wait around a bit, maybe he will give you an answer right away, or he´ll send an owl later, I don´t know."

Hedwig took the letter and was gone in a bright flash. Harry decided to wait a bit in the privacy of his bedroom. Although he had lived in Potter Manor nearly all summer, he still enjoyed the fact that it was his bedroom, that he finally had a place of his own and what a gorgeous place it was! After his miserable childhood at Privet Drive, he would never take this comfort and feeling of security for granted. Sighing contently, he stretched out on the coverlet of his bed and drifted off into a pleasant daydream about languorously exploring Draco’s body.

After ten minutes, the phoenix appeared again, startling Harry out of his pleasurable haze as she landed on the headboard all of a sudden.

"Huh, that was fast, thanks Hedwig," Harry sat up and adjusted himself, before petting her soft feathers.

Hedwig thrilled and dropped a small role of parchment into his hand, with no visible seal or address, which instantly unfurled when he hissed {Open}.

Today, four o’clock, MM, back garden terrace.

LV

When he was finished, Harry cast an Incendio to burn the letter. Since the meeting wasn't until this afternoon, he still had some free time, so he decided to spend it with his friends. They had had an outdoor training session earlier with Rastaban and Severus, joined by Blaise and Pansy who were impressed, and everyone was outside relaxing; he decided to join them until his meeting. After mentally calling Sesshomaru, who appeared at his side instantly, the young wizard and his familiars walked through the manor to the garden.

~...~

At a quarter to four, Hedwig flashed Harry right inside the tall dark green hedge and wrought iron gates of Malfoy manor. He took a deep breath of the afternoon summer air, it was pleasantly warm here, a bit warmer compared to Potter Manor in Wales, but not stifling hot.

He preferred this mode of transport to using the floo network, because he was out in the fresh air and did not arrive covered in sooth or stumbling out of some fireplace like a drunken imbecile. With practice, he had learned to exit a fireplace somewhat better compared to his second year, that was true, but still he lacked the grace some other wizards showed. Harry had never seen Draco, Lucius or Severus stumble around or fall to the floor when arriving at a fireplace, they always landed with perfect grace and with only a few grains of sooth or even completely clean. When Harry had grumbled about this no doubt age-old pureblood secret, they always smirked at him, but refused to explain.

Hedwig soared up into the sky to stretch her wings a bit. This part of Wiltshire was beautiful, wide open spaces, and not densely populated, so she could enjoy swooping around an hour, chasing smaller birds and out flying raptors like hawks or falcons just for the fun of flying. He had left Sesshomaru back at Potter Manor with Draco and the others.

Harry walked down the driveway towards the manor house and veered off to the left, walking over the lawn through the fragrant gardens headed to the back of the house and the garden terrace.

He marvelledagain at the difference between this garden and Petunia´s idea of the perfect gardens, where he had slaved countless hours in burning heat or freezing rain to pick weeds or repaint the fence as a child. This manor garden was well kempt too of course, there was also a lawn, flowerbeds, bushes just like at his relatives house. But the Malfoys’ garden was much larger, interspaced with well springs, classical statues or little nooks with a convenient bench enclosed by hedges or bushes. They also had evergreen hedges growing in a spiral maze form on one side, not dangerous and sinister looking like the huge, scary maze from the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but peaceful, serene, to gently walk around at leisure or in meditation. Everything looked more natural, more alive here, there was luxuriant flowing growth, and more plant variation compared to Privet Drive.

Suddenly a house-elf popped in front of him, one hand raised towards him.

"Sir, stop. What is sir guest doing here? Sir must speak to master. Manor door is back there," it commanded.

Harry came to an abrupt stop, he hadn´t met this particular house-elf before; it looked rather young. The elf was clad in a nice, crispy white tea towel with the Malfoy crest on its breast; it looked him up and down critically. Harry was amused; the little bugger obviously took his duty seriously to not only serve his family well, but to protect them also.

"Hello, my name is Harry Potter. I have an appointment with your master´s guest today, the Dark Lord, on the garden terrace. I´m keyed into the wards of the manor, so there should not have been an alarm." Harry explained to the elf in a friendly tone.

The elf stared at him for a moment with huge eyes, then bowed low and started to apologize. "Ooooh, sir is Harry Potter sir. Sorry, sir. Welcome to Malfoy manor. I is Belby. I is a new elf. Belby heard of Harry Potter sir. Sorry, sir. Master said he improved wards. Master ordered Belby to watch for spies in hedge or garden. Master told Belby to always greet guests at gate. Belby felt the wards breached, but wards not give normal alarm. Belby was worried. Harry Potter Sir wants to speak to master´s Lord, sir?"

Harry smiled and nodded at the excited and dedicated little elf. At least this one did not seem to have Dobby´s crazy tendencies of Potter hero worship or of punishing itself needlessly. It was good to know that Lucius had improved the security around the manor, not that it had been lacking before, but one could never be too careful nowadays.

"Oh yes Harry Potter sir, go on, this way, master’s master is near the roses." Belby pointed him in the right direction, before popping away.

Harry reached the terrace right on time. Coming around the last low hedge bordering the garden path, he noticed Voldemort lounging in a blue wickerwork chair besides a yellow rose bush, looking surprisingly peaceful and relaxed as he read a book. There was no one else present.

Harry coughed before ascending the few stairs to the flagged stone platform to announce his presence and walked closer. With a slight bow, he greeted the Dark Lord, "Good afternoon, Marvolo. How are you?"

Voldemort looked up; closing his book, he banished it back to his suite.

"Harry, right on time; I´m fine, thank you," he acknowledged the young man.

Rising from his seat, the Dark Lord gestured towards the garden. "Come, let´s take a walk and tell me about you. Any unusual reactions?” He inquired while stepping down the stairs. He casually twirled his wand to cast Muffliato and a silencing charm bubble around them, to hide their conversation to any hidden listeners.

Falling easy in stride alongside Voldemort, crossing the path and ambling over the soft carpet of lush green grass that composed the Malfoys lawn, Harry smiled and replied exultantly, "I’m OK. I feel better overall, as if a weight I always carried around has been lifted. My magic seems to be getting stronger; there is more power behind my spells when I cast them as I usually do. I’ve had to tone it down in training today. And the reading, you know, memorizing information from textbooks – it seems easier, I read faster and remember more compared to the last weeks."

Harry sniggered, "Snape was astonished when he quizzed me this morning about something he had me read yesterday. I didn´t think it would make this much of a difference, but it does. Snape thinks it´s because now there is a part of my magic that is suddenly free, that was always working in the past on containing and shielding it."

Voldemort smirked at Harry´s exuberance and the way the young man kept his secrets confidential, constantly avoiding the 'H.' word, should there be someone listening despite his precautions.

"This pleases me; it's the best possible outcome of our endeavour. What about your scar, did you feel anything the past two days?"

Harry shook his head; he stopped and turned to Voldemort. He pushed his fringe away and beamed up at the older man. "No sir, everything is ok. No pain. The scar stayed like it was after-ah-you know.”

Voldemort had turned to Harry and stepped close, to better inspect the famous scar on the young man´s forehead. He slowly raised his right hand and reached out towards the fine silver lightningbolt, which to him looked similar to either the rune Sowilo or in Anglo-Saxon Sigel, the power of the sun, or to Eiwahz, in Anglo-Saxon Yr, the symbol for the Yew tree.

“Tell me how it feels,” Voldemort commanded gently.

“Ok,” Harry breathed out, tensing slightly in anticipation as emerald orbs locked with the dark brown, crimson-rimmed orbs above him.

Voldemort firmly took hold of Harry´s right shoulder with his left hand and then carefully touched Harry´s scar with the fingertip of his right index finger. Nothing happened; the contact felt perfectly normal, just like the warm skin of an attractive young man. He could feel the power thrumming in Harry, but there was no negative reaction. No spark or shock, no strange tingling. He quirked an eye-brow and moved his hand over Harry’s forehead through the dark hair to the back of his head, holding the young man in a controlling—but not painful—grip for a moment. Harry’s eyes widened in reaction to the dominating gesture; he felt no shock or pain, only Voldemort’s magic—delicious, alluring, dark power—but he refused to give in to the attraction and to lean into the touch.

"All right?" Voldemort questioned.

"Yeah, I´m ok,” Harry flushed in slight embarrassment, but he continued on. “No throbbing or stinging, no headaches or migraines anymore. And thank Merlin I feel more normal around you sir. I-I don´t completely lose my head anymore this close to you. Thanks for convincing me to do it."

{You're welcome. What about ssspeaking Parsssel, have you tried?}The elder wizard hissed suddenly, while releasing the younger and resuming their walk through the garden heading towards the spiral hedge maze.

Harry slipped his hands into his pockets as he walked beside Voldemort; his face lit up again as another huge smile came on his face. Turning to Voldemort, he started hissing teasingly, {Yesss, of courssse! I mussst sstill be a ssspeaker to help to teach Nagini´s sssnaklingsss the waysss of the world. Can´t leave it all to the elder generation, after all. They have to learn all about pranksss too, not only about ssscaring people to death.}

Voldemort actually laughed at Harry´s words; he too felt better today—rested and calmer—despite his very vivid dreams full of snapshots from Harry’s past, no doubt a reaction to the soul union.

After strolling through the maze in companionable silence for a few minutes, turning to the correct path out of habit, Voldemort asked, "So, tell me, what you have decided to ask from me? I must admit, I´m quite curious what you will chose. Money, fame and power you have in abundance; we have already discussed the people you care about, so I´m sure you won´t ask anything like that, as most other followers would, isn´t it so?"

Harry looked over at the Dark Lord, gouging his reaction and nodded. "You’d be right Marvolo; there is something I´d really like to do. I want to kidnap, torture and kill somebody. But the person it concerns is working at the Ministry. She was a senior Undersecretary to Fudge, but I don’t know if she lost this position when Fudge was sacked. I don´t know what her current position is or if this witch is in any way connected to your plans, if she is valuable or expendable in your estimation."

"Hmm, and who might that be?" asked Voldemort, turning around another bend in the patch between the tall evergreen hedges, which opened up to a small circular area. They had reached the middle of the spiral maze. An old, gnarled, huge evergreen tree stood in the middle, like the centre of the universe.

Harry stopped and faced him with a serious, angry expression. "I want to take revenge on Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge. I want to torture and kill her as payback for all the pain that she caused me." He spoke in a harsh, cold voice, "I want her to know it´s me, Potter, the former Golden Boy, before she dies. And I want to involve the werewolves, ripping her to shreds alive, leaving only scraps for the crows."

Voldemort had also stopped and raised both finely sculptured black eye-brows at the complete change of attitude. A few minutes ago, the younger wizard had been so cheerful and happy. Now, Harry looked and sounded as if he really wanted to rip someone apart.

Intrigued, the Dark Lord enquired, "Explain," while crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning his back against the large, old yew tree growing in the middle of the maze. He could feel the elemental power of the earth thrumming through it and intermingling with his own, dark magic. This was a special place of power; the Malfoy ancestors had created this maze around the ancient yew for a reason.

To Voldemort, yew trees had been always special, his interest starting when he bought his yew wand as an eleven year old from Ollivander’s. At Hogwarts, he learned in Herbology and Potions, that yew is associated with immortality, renewal, regeneration, everlasting life, rebirth, transformation, access to the Otherworld and our ancestors and was a symbol of the old magic. The Yew is sacred to Hecate, and the Crone aspect of the Triple Goddess; both are guardians of the Underworld, death and the afterlife. Yew trees in Britain were ancient, up to 4000 years, often found around blind springs, planted as Druid groves, where later muggle churches were built.

The small evergreen leaves are dark green, even in the middle of the coldest, bitter winter, which is a symbol of life, but they were deadly poisonous at the same time. The entire tree is poisonous - wood, bark, needles and seed. They are used in several dark potions, like in abortion potion or an extremely potent poison Severus had created for him during the first war called Ibidem Nex, one drop of instant death. The only part which isn´t poisonous is the bright red, fleshy part of the seed that birds could eat, thereby giving them a chance at life during winter, the time of darkness and death. Even muggles revered Yew for these same reasons as wizard kind throughout the northern world.

Harry paced around the little circular space like an angry panther, his magic swirling around him in a threatening way, while he growled out, "I hate Umbridge. She´s had it out for me all right, she tormented me every way she could. It started last summer. I was still shaken from the trials of the bloody Tri-Wizard tournament and your fucking resurrection party in the graveyard, again stuck at my shitty muggle relatives, without any contact to the wizarding world." Harry sneered, "On orders of Dumbledore of course, for my own fucking good."

Voldemort frowned while watching Harry stalk around him. He was surprised by Harry’s language and realized that the young man must be incredibly angry for a multitude of reasons to lose his composure like that in his presence. He disliked foul language, it was uncouth, but for now, he would wait and listen.

"To top that hellish summer off, two bloody Dementors attacked me and my cousin one evening, completely out of the blue.”

“What?!” exclaimed Voldemort standing up straight at once. This was disturbing. Why hadn’t he known this before?

“Yes, two bloody Dementors,” repeated Harry ardently, holding up two fingers of his right hand while his left was clenched into a fist. “They cornered us in a narrow alleyway not far from Privet Drive and nearly sucked my soul out, it was horrible…dreadful. I barely managed to fend them off with my Patronus, which resulted in a letter from the fucking Ministry, telling me I was expelled from Hogwarts for performing underage magic and that my wand would be snapped in a few minutes. Can you believe it? I nearly escaped a fate worse than death by defending myself with a charm many adult wizards cannot properly cast, I also heroically rescued my worthless muggle cousin along the way, and the British Ministry of Magic wanted to kick me out of the Wizarding World? Fucking Ministry. Last May I learned that this was all Umbitch's doing, which of course I didn´t know back then."

Harry´s fury was rising; all that frustration, fear, confusion, and outrage from the past summer came boiling up again. His black hair and clothes moved as if in an invisible wind. Voldemort watched him prowl around him and relished in the darkness pouring of the young man. It was like watching as a volcano erupted; all that rage and hate the boy had held back for so long came pouring out.

Harry´s power was like the best old red wine, caressing his senses. Salazar, this boy—no young man—was truly worthy of his attention, so powerful and glorious in his wrath. Harry would be a terrible weapon against his foes. Dumbledore was such a fool; well, the Light´s loss was the dark sides gain. He, Voldemort, would only have to direct this weapon skilfully– and take care to ensure it stayed loyal to him.

Which wasn’t too difficult. As starved for affection, friendly touch and reassurance as Harry was from his deprived and neglected childhood and the past years at Hogwarts, a bit of positive attention, understanding and openness did wonders to deepen their bond, that thankfully had not suffered from the very few times he had had to resort to doling out pain as a punishment so far. It was exhilarating to witness that the Harry Potter came to the Dark side and submitted to him of his own free will, as opposed to being forced and tortured into compliance; an idea that he had briefly entertained after their encounter in the graveyard. That the cunning, stubborn and powerful young dark wizard was most eager to learn from, to fight with him and not against him anymore was beyond fortunate. Before this summer, he never would have believed such a development was possible.

Last summer, Voldemort had heard of course from Lucius and Yaxley that Harry Potter was in trouble for performing underage magic, but he had had absolutely no idea of the incredible danger the young man had been in. To think, that this idiotic ministry sycophant had recklessly endangered his Harry, his Horcrux! Regardless of what more Harry would reveal, the Undersecretary´s fate was already sealed.

Lucius had mentioned the woman a few times when reporting about Fudge and his underlings. She was a nasty piece of work; sadistic, ruthless, ambitious and cunning, that fit in well with his Death Eaters—she didn’t know of course that Lucius was one—nevertheless, any potential value this woman had as a Dark side supporter was completely negated by her crimes against the boy. If Harry would not go after her – which he wanted to – Voldemort himself would have ordered her capture and enjoy killing her.

Harry´s angry voice snapped him out of his musings. "Some more letters from Dumbledore and other people followed one after the other during the next half hour. Another letter from the Ministry changed the immediate expulsion threat to a hearing about underage magic in August, where my fate would be decided. But the day of the trial, Lucius was there in the Ministry. I got a glimpse of him in the hallway outside the courtroom talking to Minister Fudge, so he must have told you?”

Voldemort was ready to speak, but it seemed as if Harry didn’t really need his answer, as he rushed to recap the rest of that bizarre evening in Surrey.

"My aunt and uncle of course believed that I had somehow hexed their precious son and were furious at me for all those freaky owls that invaded their perfect muggle kitchen,” Harry sneered. “Didn´t get any chocolate, in case you were wondering. They sent me to my room and locked me in, without food which of course was their usual punishment.

"Ah, and as the icing on the cake,” Harry sneered, “I found out that evening that our neighbour, old batty Mrs. Fig was no muggle, but a squib and a spy for Dumbledore. He had asked her to have an eye on me! Unbelievable, this man. She wasn´t allowed to tell me about the wizarding world when I was a kid. She either never noticed the neglect and abuse going on at number four, or Dumbledore didn´t believe her. Or he believed her, but left me at the Dursleys nevertheless, for the greater good, that bastard!"

Harry was quivering in remembered hate and rage. He could not stand still, but continued to circle around the large evergreen tree and watched Voldemort out of the corner of his eyes. The man´s face wore a dark scowl, the lips pressed together. Was he angry with Harry or did he sympathize with him and feel emphatic anger at Umbridge, the Ministry, Dumbledore and the Dursleys?

"And this was just the start of the trouble Umbitch caused me in fifth year. As you know, she was appointed by Fudge himself to Hogwarts as the new DADA teacher and so called High Inquisitor. She gave me endless detentions, forced me to write hours on end with a cursed blood quill, until the message sunk in, as she called it."

Harry stepped close to the elder wizard and held his hand up. "Here, look, I removed the glamour. How much did you know about all of this, Marvolo?"

Voldemort´s hand shot out quick as a viper to grab Harry’s wrist. He carefully inspected the back of Harry´s right hand. There, he found faded scars, letters etched deeply into the skin; I must not tell lies. Voldemort scowled, locking fierce eyes with the young man.

"Then don´t tell lies Harry, tell me everything. I will not protest any punishment this woman suffers at your hand. Believe me, if I had known about this, I would have tortured and killed her myself! Umbridge was always a supporter of the Dark Side, not a Death Eater of course, but she could have been useful in the Ministry. Nevertheless, she has forfeited the right to live.”

Voldemort’s eyes glowed. {Nobody touchesss what isss mine} he hissed, completely incensed, as he tightened his grip possessively and tugged Harry closer with his left hand on the small of Harry’s back. Harry shuddered and gasped.

“I didn´t know how bad your living conditions were or what happened to you last summer or during fifth year,” Voldemort continued, “Lucius and Yaxley only overheard that you had performed underage magic and got an expulsion hearing for it, but not what exactly you did or why you did magic. Umbridge must have known you were all alone in the muggle world if she got to your relatives’ address. That was attempted murder, nothing else. Most adult wizards can’t defend themselves against Dementors.”

Hugging the young wizard possessively to his chest, Voldemort snarled out, {Ssshe will pay} all the while glaring daggers over Harry’s shoulder, his eyes shining more red than dark brown.

Harry relished in the fierce embrace, the feeling of dark power curling and unfurling over him and leaned his head for a moment on Voldemort’s shoulder. Nodding with a nasty teeth baring grin, he viciously hissed his answer. {Yesss, ssshe will.}

He knew Voldemort’s vice like grip would leave a bruise on his wrist—it hurt quite a bit—and he felt a bit uncomfortable pressed this closely to the older man, to any other man that wasn’t Draco, but he tolerated Voldemort’s possessiveness because it felt absolutely fantastic to be so valued and protected. Here was living proof again that he mattered, that someone cared, that he wasn’t worthless like his relatives had always told him. Harry felt better, seeing that the Dark Lord shared his sentiments against the toad. What would he have given last year to have an adult that believed him and took action against that vile woman!

It was mind boggling that one letter of complaint to Voldemort of all people would have ended Umbridge’s reign at Hogwarts for the simple reason that last year, the Dark Lord had considered Harry as his to hurt and kill—but still, as his—and under his protection against all other threats.

Voldemort loosened his grip again, studying the back of Harry’s hand for a moment longer before asking, “I wonder, did she treat other students the same as you, or were you singled out? Severus never mentioned anything like what you said. He hates Umbridge as she was a nuisance and a menace, but he never reported of her harming students with a blood quill. That´s torture to write hours with one until it scars like this."

Harry answered with a glare and wrenched his hand lose, to take up his agitated pacing around the circular maze centre again. "No. Severus wouldn’t know, at least I don’t think so. No Slytherin children suffered under her regiment at Hogwarts in the last school year, because none of them was so foolish as to provoke her as I did. I was just so angry; I lost control over my mask and because of that, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I knew you were not a figment of my overactive imagination. She gave blood quill detentions to several of the Gryffs, very few Claws and some Puffs who believed my claims that you were back.

"Why was it not reported?" Voldemort wondered. "How is it no teacher knew of it? Did no student complain?"

"I was the first one she used it on." Harry recounted, his insides burning with anger. "After that detention was over, I went directly to McGonagall. When I tried to tell her what happened, she snapped at me to keep my head down and not to get into any more trouble. She didn't even let me tell her how the detention actually was and what it was exactly that Umbitch was using on me, a student.”

He sighed and shook his head. “When she brushed me off without actually hearing what I had to say, I believed that the other teachers wouldn't listen to my complaints either. And when the other students realized that my own Head of House wasn't willing to listen to me, they decided not to say anything either. After all, if the Gryffindor Golden Boy, Dumbledore’s favouritestudent for the past four years, couldn't get his own Head of House to believe him, then what chance did they have?"

"I never knew," Voldemort murmured as his dark eyes narrowed. "To think that the woman would use such a barbaric tool on students to hurt them and that Fudge, incompetent fool that he is, allowed it to happen..."

"Oh, that was not everything that happened," continued Harry his angry tirade. "On the day of the History of Magic exam, after you send me that fucking vision about Sirius, Umbitch wanted to use Veritaserum on me and was this close," Harry lifted his hand and indicated a minimal space between his thumb and index finger, "to use Cruciatus on me, a student. She would have, if Granger and Snape hadn´t intervened. Can you believe that? Bugger, Granger and Snape saved me, again; Severus…my saviour, my hero." Harry grinned, his fury burned out mostly before his face and voice turned resigned and sad. “You know what the worst of it is? Because Umbridge controlled all the mail and had blocked all the fireplaces at Hogwarts, I couldn’t contact Sirius anymore for months. After you sent me that bloody vision, I assumed him to be in mortal danger, but Granger insisted it could be a fake. I wanted to check up on Sirius before jumping to conclusion, that’s why I broke into Umbridge’s office to try and use her Floo. I did manage a short Floo Net connection to Headquarters and spoke briefly to Kreacher, the old house-elf. He said Sirius was out. Later that night, after Sirius was dead, I learned that that wasn’t true, but earlier when it mattered, I couldn’t contact Grimmauld Place again, because Umbridge barged into her office.

“What followed was her interrogation of me; her attempts to use Veritaserum and Cruciatus. Granger and I lured her into the Forbidden Forest, where we then escaped and rode on Thestrals to London together with the others. So, I put a large part of Sirius’ death on her doorstep. By the way, I haven’t forgiven you for this; I can’t, although I completely understand why you tried to lure me there. I know you tried to get the prophecy by other means first; for example, I had one vision of Rockwood reporting to you before the other one around Christmas when Nagini attacked Arthur Weasley.”

Voldemort nodded his head. Well, he had to believe what Harry told him. He could read the truth in his eyes. And now they had arrived at a most unpleasant topic, again. Better not dwell on that vision and the debacle at the Ministry. Although, it had led to a few positive outcomes in the end; his possession of Harry, the revelation of the prophecy and their new alliance, rescuing his Horcruxes, the regaining of his sanity and his new passionate relationship with Severus.

His mind went over all the information he was just given and knew he would enjoy seeing Harry take revenge, especially considering Umbridge had almost cost him his Horcrux. She had dared to hurt what was his, which was inexcusable. He used to torture and kill people for far less offence.

And, there was of course the issue of the oppressive anti-werewolf regulations this senior Undersecretary was responsible for. Fenrir had ranted and raved about that often enough, and Harry´s god-fatherly friend, Remus Lupin was affected too of course. The law from 1993 made it nearly impossible for known werewolves to get or hold a decent job in the Wizarding world. That explained Harry´s wish to include the werewolves in his revenge on Umbridge.

"Very well then," Voldemort concluded, looking down at the younger wizard. "The favour is granted; Dolores Umbridge is yours to do whatever with. I shall have the necessary information collected so you know when best to abduct her. You should plan her punishment and execution together with Fenrir and Remus. This would be the perfect occasion for us to meet the pack leaders and to show them that I am sincere in my wish to end the repression of the werewolves.”

"Thank you Marvolo. Yes, I will speak with them as soon as they are back. If possible, I want to go through with it on the night of the next full moon, which would be the twenty-eighth." Harry smiled darkly, happy that he was finally getting revenge on the toad that had made his life hell.

Voldemort saw the smile and he relished in the malice in it. 'Yes, Albus Dumbledore should have been more careful with the Saviour. His loss is my gain.'

“Alright Harry, I’ll keep that evening free of any other commitments or meetings,” Voldemort said and he gestured for Harry to continue walking with him. The two walked in comfortable silence for a bit before Voldemort broke it. “Harry, there is something I’d like to speak with you about.”

“Ok,” Harry nodded. “What is it you want to talk about Marvolo?”

“Albus Dumbledore,” Voldemort snarled. (##)

~...~

Albus tuned out the other occupants in his office as his mind wandered. 'Nothing has worked out; the brat refuses to answer any letters sent by the Granger girl and no one has heard from him at all. What is going on? I've spoken to Mrs. Figg and she informed me that the Dursleys had gone on a vacation at the start of summer and had returned at the end of July.'

"I still can't believe the twins did this," Hermione spoke and drew him out of his thoughts.

"Believe what Ms. Granger?" he turned to look at her.

"The twins!" Hermione's eyes blazed. "We saw them today. I knew Mr. Weasley suspected it, but I didn't expect it to be true!"

Albus was confused, through he didn't let that show on his face; had to let them believe he was all knowing. He turned his gaze to Molly.

"Arthur and I were at home when we realized that the twins had disappeared not only from the Family Clock," Molly explained, "but from the Family completely. Arthur felt a shift in the Burrow's wards as well as the Family Clan indicating that the twins had been removed; the Clock only confirmed it."

"It turns out," Arthur spoke up, "the twins disowned themselves from the Weasley Clan."

"What?" This time, Albus could not keep the confusion or shock from his face or voice.

"Yes," Molly scowled, "they are no longer Weasleys. We saw them today and they looked different and they kindly informed us they were no longer Weasleys, but they were now Potters."

"How is that possible?" Albus narrowed his eyes at her. "That means that they had to have had contact with Harry at some point. Did you find anything out?"

"No," Ron shook his head. "Mum went off on them and then they told us off before walking away."

"Professor," Hermione spoke up, "if the twins are now Potters, and that couldn't have happened without them meeting Harry, does that mean they told him about the will meeting?"

Her question made everyone pause and look at her; they had never thought about that.

"It's obvious that they did," Hermione continued, building momentum. "At the reading, they declared they would side with Harry, and based on their new appearances, they were adopted into the Potter Clan, which can only be done by someone of the Potter blood which is Harry. And if I'm right, and I know I am, then that means that Harry knows everything that happened at the will reading, which would explain why he never answered any of my letters and it would make it very difficult to go forward with the plan that we had at the beginning of summer."

"She's right," Ron slumped back into his seat. "With the twins telling Potter everything, he won't be inclined to give us any money."

"And that's not all we have to worry about," Hermione continued; at the looks, she sighed exasperatedly. "Did you forget whose company the twins kept this afternoon?" She turned to Albus. "Malfoy, Parkinson and Zabini were at the store, along with Luna and two other guys."

"Ms. Lovegood," Albus frowned, "why would she be in acquaintance with Mr. Malfoy?"

"I have no idea," Hermione shrugged, "but they all looked pretty cosyto me." Her brows furrowed. "The two boys they were with, there was something familiar about them; it's almost as if I've met them before."

"What were their names?" Albus was slightly worried, though he didn't show it.

"Well," Hermione spoke, "I didn't hear the names clearly, but I think I heard one of the twins call one of the boys Cory."

"What?" Albus' slight worry went into panic; 'It cannot be? It is a mere coincidence. I made sure of it; there is no way my magic was reversed by anybody. No...I would've known.' "How did that boy look?"

"Well," Hermione's brow furrowed as she recalled the appearance of the boy. "He was muscled, but not too muscled; he had shoulder length curly hair, which come to think of it, so did the other boy, but this boy's hair wasn't as dark and he had light brown eyes."

"Hmm," Albus mused. "And what of the other teen? What did he look like?"

"In all honesty," Hermione said, "for a split second, I thought I was looking at Harry, but I dismissed that thought; this boy was far too muscular, he is taller than Harry is and he also carries himself with a confidence that I know Harry doesn't have. In fact, the only reason I thought it was Harry was his eyes; they are almost the exact shade of green as Harry's, except his are darker...almost the same shade of green as the Killing Curse while Harry's are the same shade as emeralds."

Albus went quiet as he thought on the information; 'just who are these teens?'

"You forgot to mention that he's also dating Malfoy," Ron pointed out.

"We don't know that," Hermione fired back.

"Oh come off it 'Mione," Ginny scowled. "Malfoy had his arm wrapped around the guy's waist; that should tell you that they're dating, or at the least that there's something going on between them."

"Then it cannot possibly be Harry," Albus said, "it does not do well for the Saviour of the Wizarding World to be into men."

"He isn't!" Ginny and Molly vehemently denied.

"And we also know of the rivalry between Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter," Albus continued. "So it must've been the son of an acquaintance of Lucius Malfoy."

"But why would Fred and George be so chummy with them?" Hermione asked, refusing to let go of that point. "Why would they willingly put up with Malfoy and the others?"

"I'm afraid to that Ms. Granger," Albus looked at her over the top of his glasses, "I have no answer; however, I would like for you three to keep an eye on both Ms. Lovegood and Mr. Malfoy, as well as Mr. Potter, in the upcoming school year."

"So we should still go ahead with the plan to befriend Harry once again?" Hermione asked. "If the twins have gotten to him, he won't likely want to speak with us."

"He will," Albus waved her concerns away. "Just remind him of what you have been through the past five years for him."

The finality to his tone and statement told them the discussion was over and they got up and headed to the Floo. Just before she stepped through, Hermione turned back to Dumbledore.

"Professor," she said, "I think you should know that the four teens, Malfoy, Luna, the boy and Cory, all had animals." At his look, she continued. "The animals were Japanese; two pups and two kittens, both kittens had twin tails."

The slight widening of his eyes was the only reaction that let Hermione know he heard her. She nodded and stepped through the Floo. When they were gone, Albus dropped his facade and allowed his emotions to show.

From the start of the summer, nothing was going as he had planned. He had thought that with Sirius' demise, his hold over Harry would be strengthened as the boy would be too grief stricken to do anything but comply with his wishes, but it was not to be. First the boy had lashed out at him, refusing to have anything to do with him for the summer and by that, he Dumbledore had lost out on having Horace Slughorn as his potions master. Then Sirius had gone and changed his will without him knowing about it, so all his plans regarding the Black money had gone up in smoke and somehow, his hold over the Potter Vaults had been taken as well, which left him slightly confused as he knew that Harry hadn't known. Add to the fact that Sirius had left Grimmauld Place to the Malfoy brat which left the Order without a Headquarters as they had been booted out.

To add to all that; he had a meeting with the Board of Governors in five days, one which had him apprehensive as he wasn't too sure what it was about. All he knew was that somehow Lucius Malfoy was involved. He couldn't understand how he had lost control of everything so fast; he was Albus Dumbledore, the defeater of Grindelwald, the mentor to Harry Potter, a master manipulator and controller, he wasn't supposed to have everything collapse around him like this. And he now had to worry that his pawn knew of some of his manipulations.

"Who knows exactly what those blasted twins told the boy," Albus frowned. His thoughts drifted back to the Black and Potter vaults. "I should've had control over those two vaults, but once again, the mutt interrupted my plans, and with the clause he placed on it, only the wolf can gain access to them other than Potter."

He got up and walked over to the window, looking at the grounds. "If the twins spoke to Harry, then I can only surmise that Lupin did as well; his wolf was unhappy with me the last time we saw each other and he hasn't answered any of my summons."

His thoughts drifted to the meeting. "I have too much to worry about this blasted meeting. Just what is Lucius up to? What could he have possibly said to the Governors that they want to meet with me? I need to think." He sighed. "It matters not. Soon, Harry shall be in school and he shall be back under my control; this was just a slight rebellion he was going through, he will get over it. I will not lose my most valuable pawn. Speaking of, whatever is going on with Severus? He has never spent the summer away from everyone despite his nature."

He turned and walked back to his seat and laced his fingers together. "The animals that Granger mentioned, well, all children have to abide by the school rules, so they will just have to get rid of them. No animal will enter this school that I cannot monitor."

In his corner on his perch, Fawkes trilled sadly and softly; it was a sad sight to see how much Albus had lost himself to power. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and in the case of Albus Dumbledore, that was true.

~...~

It was now the thirteenth, the day of the Governors' meeting. Lucius had already spoken to the Dark Lord, going over his job and his presentation; he could not fail.

Remus and Fenrir had returned about two days ago with word of success on the two wolf packs joining up with Voldemort. After a resting day, Remus and Lucius had spent the day together yesterday.

"Are you ready?" Remus asked as he walked into Lucius' bedroom from the adjoining bathroom.

"Malfoys are always ready," Lucius smirked.

"They're also full of themselves," Remus rolled his eyes as he walked over to his lover, yes lover.

"I do not recall hearing you complain last night when you were full of me," Lucius murmured as he accepted a kiss from his lover.

"That's because I was too incoherent last night to even remember my own name," Remus grinned as he wound his arms around the taller man's neck. "So, I couldn't very well muster up complaints, now could I?"

"Of course not," Lucius grinned as he dipped his head for another kiss. It turned heated as Remus stepped closer, closing the distance between them and pressing his body against Lucius, feeling the hardening of his cock.

"Remus," Lucius growled out as he pulled back from the kiss, his grey eyes dark with desire.

"I thought I was the animal," Remus shifted against Lucius, rubbing his own cock against the blond. "I want you again; I want to feel you in me, pounding my ass like you did last night."

Lucius snarled and pulled Remus into another heated kiss, walking backwards until he fell on the bed, taking Remus with him. He kept his hold on the sandy-haired man, devouring his mouth even as a moan escaped his lips when Remus shifted until he was straddling him.

With his legs on either side of Lucius' hips, Remus started rocking against the blond, creating mind-numbing friction that had him moaning wantonly. He pulled his lips from Lucius' mouth and started kissing a path down the blond's neck. "Merlin I want you."

Lucius flipped them over, looking down at his love with pure lust and rocked against Remus causing said guy to arch his back, pushing his cock more firmly against his own. He reached for his wand and banished their clothes, leaving them naked; the skin to skin friction caused them to moan loudly as Remus rocked faster.

"In me," Remus panted out, tightening his grip in Lucius' hair. "Fuck me Luc...get in me NOW!"

The last part was growled, and Lucius was too far gone in his lust to refuse his lover. Bending down to kiss Remus, he slipped his hand between their bodies, pausing briefly to grasp his lover's cock; his thumb slid over the head, drawing more pre-cum from the already leaking cock and a howl from Remus who bucked into his hand.

"Damnit Luc!" Remus snarled, his eyes flashing amber. "Stop teasing and fuck me!"

"Have to...have to prepare...you," Lucius said between pants; his cock was painfully hard and it twitched with the need to be buried once more inside the wonderfully heated body of his lover. His hair had loosened from the style he had them in, but he didn’t care; his body’s pleasure dominated his mind too much for him to be concerned about that.

Remus muttered a wandless Lubricating and Cleansing Charm, as well as a stretching one and looked up at Lucius. "There...now I'm prepared."

Positioning the head of his cock at the werewolf's entrance, Lucius groaned when he felt the heat radiating from it. He gritted his teeth and fought for control not to slam into the body. He eased the tip of his cock inside, cursing when he felt the internal muscles clamped down viciously around him. Apparently his pace was too slow for his lover as he felt Remus' hands on his ass before the wolf slammed himself backwards, engulfing Lucius in one thrust.

"Fuck!" Lucius swore when he felt the sweltering heat envelop his cock. His hair fell across his face as he leaned forward to look down at Remus and a thin sheen of sweat soon covered his body.

"Yes! Do it!" Remus arched his back and tightened his muscles in reflex around the hard cock inside as it slammed into his sweet spot.

"Stop doing that," Lucius hissed between gritted teeth, trying to control his body's urges. His body was taught with tension and he could feel his control slipping rapidly.

"Move!" Remus demanded as he pulled away, leaving just the tip of Lucius' cock inside him before slamming back, letting out a keening wail as the move sent Lucius’ cock directly into his prostate.

Lucius' control snapped and he shifted one of Remus' legs from his waist to his shoulder and gave him what they both wanted; he started fucking him raw.

"Harder...faster...damnit Luc, I'm not going to break," Remus groaned as he thrust back against his lover.

Lucius growled, but the brutality of his pace increased; his thrusts became harder, more erratic as the two lost themselves in the pleasure of each other's bodies which became slick with sweat as a result of their fast paced coupling.

"So tight...so hot," Lucius looked at Remus, "you should...see how you look..." his gaze shifted to where his cock was entering Remus and he couldn't help but to groan; it was fucking hot.

"You like this don't you?" Remus panted out. "Stuffing me with your big cock...f-fucking me good..."

Lucius dropped Remus' leg and pulled out, drawing a moan of disappointment from his lover, before flipping him over onto his hands and knees before slamming back into him.

"Fuck yes!" Remus shouted as the position sent Lucius deeper, each thrust hitting his pleasure button. "Fuck me like a bitch in heat..." inside, Moony howled in triumph at the dominant taking from his Alpha. Remus dropped down to rest on his forearms, the movement forcing his ass higher and sending Lucius’ cock deeper inside him, drawing a groan from his lover and a desire-filled whine from him. He loved knowing he could make the always-in-control Malfoy, lose his cool. Smirking lustfully, he tightened his muscles around Lucius’ cock, relishing in the pleasure-pain moan that came from him.

The dirty words only fuelled Lucius' lust; when Remus shifted position sending him deeper, he couldn’t help the groan that escaped. And when the minx decided to tighten his muscles around him, he couldn’t stop the pleasure-pain moan from escaping before he grabbed Remus' hips, anchoring himself as he fucked him harder and faster. One hand moved to Remus' chest, lifting the man and pulling him back into his chest, their sweaty bodies slapping against each other in an erotic rhythm. He pressed a kiss against the man's neck before moving to whisper into his ear.

"You feel so tight and hot around my cock," Lucius groaned out. "I love fucking you...the sight of my cock moving in you...touch yourself...wrap your hand around your cock…

"Lucius," Remus moaned out as his hand reached out shakily to grasp his own cock; the feel of his hand on his member was intoxicating and he found himself moving his hand to Lucius' thrusts. "Oh Merlin...harder..." his breathing increased as his balls tightened in anticipation of his rising orgasm.

Lucius complied, pumping furiously in and out of his lover. Moans and groans sounded throughout the room as they two raced towards completion. The pleasure that they were experiencing was all encompassing.

Remus fell over the edge first, howling as his climax ripped through him; cum spurted out of his cock in thick, white ropes, covering his hands, chest and the bed.

Lucius stiffened as he felt Remus' inner muscles clamped down reflexively on his cock, pulling his own orgasm out of him and with a shout of Remus' name, he coated the man's inner walls in jets of cum; his hips pumped a few more times as his cock was milked dry.

Breathing loudly, the two fell forward and Lucius carefully eased himself out of Remus, before falling to his side, pulling his lover to him, not caring about the cum covering his lover’s chest.

"That was...that was amazing," Remus smiled even as he tried to get his breathing back under control.

Lucius said nothing; he grinned, and with a wave of his hand, cleaned the two of them of the sticky mess.

"Thanks love," Remus turned to him, his eyes dancing in joy.

"As much as I detest the idea of leaving you," Lucius caressed Remus' cheek. "I do have that meeting to attend."

"I know," Remus nodded; he snuggled into Lucius' chest before pulling away to press a kiss to his cheek. "You should get ready to go."

Lucius nodded and got up from the bed. He looked down at his lover, satisfaction rolling through him at the sated and dishevelledlook on Remus.

“Go,” Remus smirked when he saw the look in Lucius’ eyes.

Without saying anything else, Lucius smiled and headed to the bathroom. After casting a Charm to adjust the water temperature to the way he wanted it, he took his shower, making sure to clean his body thoroughly…there was only so much a Cleaning Charm could do. When he was done, he stepped out and stepped in front of the mirror; like his son, Lucius prided himself on his hair and so he took extra care as he fixed it to how he wanted. Banishing the towel, with a wave of his hand, he was dressed. Smiling at his reflection, Lucius walked out of the bathroom, dressed in his finest robes, looking as impeccable as always, every inch of the pureblood he was.

"What will you do today?" Lucius asked Remus as walked over to the bed.

"Go see Harry and the others," Remus smiled before he moved closer to where Lucius was standing to press a quick kiss to blond man's lips. "I'll see you when you get back."

"Of that you can be sure," Lucius smirked before walking out the bedroom, his robes swirling around him, leaving Remus to smile and shake his head.

~...~

Walking through the hallway to the room where the meeting was convened, Lucius smiled predatorily at the way people moved out of his way; he heard some wizards squeak in fear and he relished it.

He entered the room where the meeting would be held and walked over to one of the seats situated in front of the Governor's bench; he cast a quick Tempus, and was pleased to note that he was on time, if not a bit early. Malfoys were impeccable on that type of thing. He had just settled into his seat when a side door opened and the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour walked inside, followed by the Board of Governors; some nodded to him, others ignored him as they all took their seats.

"Lord Malfoy." Rufus nodded at him.

"Minister for Magic," Lucius nodded back, keeping his face, and eyes, free of emotion.

The Minister and the Governors talked amongst themselves quietly as they waited for the final party. At about ten after the hour, Albus Dumbledore came through the doors. When he got to his seat, the door closed and was locked and warded by a governor.

"Now that everyone is here," spoke Rufus, and the tone of the Minister of Magic indicated he was displeased at being kept to wait, "this meeting shall commence. This meeting was called to determine the competency of Albus Dumbledore as the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. What say you?"

"It is obvious this is a mistake," Albus smiled almost condescendingly, trying to display a grandfatherly persona. "I have always acted in accordance of what is best for not only the school but for the students as well."

"If I may elaborate your honours?" Lucius spoke politely, allowing the Malfoy manners and prestige to shine through.

"You may Lord Malfoy," a governor spoke, eager to hear if there were only rumoursor tangible accusations against the seeminglyalmighty Headmaster with too many forenames and titles.

"I dispute the Headmaster’s claims," Lucius stood up. "Over the past five years, his actions have not helped the students, but have in fact endangered them on more than one occasion."

"That is not correct," Albus spoke up, "Lucius, perhaps you should offer proof before you commit yourself to slander."

"I am delighted that you said that," Lucius’ smile was predatory. "Let's take a look at the year 1991 to 1992 shall we? Does the Philosopher's Stone summon any memory? You placed a very valuable and very dangerous artefactin a school filled with children, underage students."

"It was for protection," Albus interrupted, "I had removed the stone from Gringotts as I felt it would have been safer at Hogwarts, and I was right; if you recall, Gringotts was broken into."

"Protection you say?" Lucius smirked. "How was it protected when the school was attacked for the stone and a child, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, was injured because someone coveted it? In fact Albus, I would go so far as to say that you deliberately placed the stone at Hogwarts for that very reason. You wanted to entice You-Know-Who himself or one his supporters to come to Hogwarts and to provoke a confrontation between them and the then young Mr. Potter. Was it safe to keep a large aggressive Cerberus on the third floor corridor to guard the stone? It was only by sheer luck that no student was killed."

"You would be wrong and the students were told at the welcoming feast to keep away from that corridor," Albus' eyes lost some of its bluster and he had a small frown on his face.

"Moving on," Lucius said smoothly and so, he detailed for the Minister and the Governors, everything that had been allowed to happen under Albus' tutelage and just how many students were injured because of the man's actions or inactions. Of course, Lucius skilfullyavoided mentioning what really was behind the happenings in Harry’s fourth year or how he Lucius, had been involved in starting the drama that was the Chamber of Secrets; he hoped that Albus would not dare to reveal what really happened because he wanted to keep the depth of his knowledge about the Dark Lord a secret. When he was done, almost all of the Governors, Rufus included, glared at Dumbledore.

"What say you Albus?" Rufus looked down at him.

"I am afraid Lord Malfoy has over exaggerated what has happened," Albus spread his hands. "I would never willingly place a student's life in danger."

"And yet," a governor spoke up, "the facts do speak for themselves. Your actions have endangered more students in the past five years than any other years. And it all coincides with the arrival of Harry Potter in 1991. Perhaps it is time we removed you as Headmaster as you seemed to focus your energy more on him than any other student."

"You cannot do that!" Albus dropped all pretence and frowned outright at the Minister and the governors.

"Actually," Rufus frowned at him, "we can, and we will. Albus—

"Minister Scrimgeour," Lucius interrupted, injecting false innocence into his voice, "I am sorry to interrupt, but I do not think it would be wise to remove Albus from his post."

Everyone, Albus included, looked at him in shock.

"I know it is surprising that I would prohibit that," Lucius continued, "as I am the one that brought these actions to your attention, however, I feel as if you were to outright remove him from his position, it would cause too much discord."

"What do you suggest then Lord Malfoy?" Rufus asked.

"Place someone in Hogwarts," Lucius smiled, "Someone that will not only keep an eye on Albus, but someone who will protect our children as well. It is my understanding that the position for the DefenceAgainst the Dark Arts instructor is available; appoint someone for that position."

"And are we to assume that you have someone in mind?" a governor asked. "You do remember the last person the Ministry had in the school?"

"Yes I do," Lucius nodded, "I wish to be appointed to the post and unlike Madam Undersecretary Umbridge, I will ensure that our children do learn something and are able to defend themselves if they are ever in such a situation where it is needed."

"You cannot allow this to happen!" Albus shot to his feet. "Lucius Malfoy cannot teach those children; he is a Death Eater. He was arrested for it."

"All charges were dropped Albus," Rufus scowled, "And you know that. Add to the fact that there isn't anything that would indicate Lord Malfoy has been a less than upstanding citizen."

"He bears the Dark Mark," Albus argued, "Surely that is grounds for not appointing him that task."

"I assure you Albus," Lucius was reeling with joy and amusement, and he allowed smug satisfaction to be heard in his voice. "I do not bare the Dark Mark. I am a Malfoy and Malfoys do not tarnish their reputation or their skins, no matter the cause."

"I know you are connected to Voldemort," Albus looked over at Lucius, ignoring the scandalized gasp from their audience at hearing that name spoken out loud.

"Albus," a governor frowned. "Do you have proof of such accusations?"

"All he has to do is bare his left arm," Albus said. "You cannot hide such an abomination."

Lucius said nothing and smirked at the man as he shrugged off his outer robe; after folding it, he placed it neatly on his chair. Then he unbuttoned his left shirt cuff and slowly rolled up his silk sleeve, revealing his left arm to the gaze of the room; it was bare.

"You are powerful Lucius," Albus' eyes glinted with anger. "I have no doubt you were able to glamour your arm."

"Perhaps Albus," Lucius' voice was silky, holding a smug undertone. "However, to ensure that I have not done anything to render the supposed Mark invisible or disillusioned, I will allow you to have Alastor Moody scan with that...magical eye of his. Although, I was under the impression that you were more than powerful enough to see through glamour spells." This was a dig at the old man—thought he didn’t know it—as he knew Albus hadn't seen through Harry's glamour for the past five years.

Dumbledore looked at Lucius before glancing down at his arm. He pulled out his wand and waved it over the pale skin, murmuring diagnostic spells. Tense minutes passed by before he looked back into the smug eyes of Lucius.

"Well Albus?" a governor asked. "Does Lord Malfoy bear the Dark Mark or not?"

"It appears I was mistaken," Dumbledore admitted reluctantly through gritted teeth. "As I cannot find any trace of magic that would determine that a Charm was used to hide the Mark, I can only surmise that Lord Malfoy does not in fact, bare the Dark Mark."

"Then our business is concluded," the same governor continued. "Lord Malfoy will take the post of the new DefenceAgainst the Dark Arts professor."

"I sincerely thank you your honours," Lucius inclined his head in a slight bow. "You will not be disappointed."

"This meeting has come to a close," Rufus said. "This coming school year, Lord Malfoy is the Defenceprofessor. You are dismissed."

Albus left, but not before he threw a look of hatred towards Lucius, who only smiled.

Lucius turned once again to the Minister and the Governors, bowed again before turning around and walking out the room, smug satisfaction rolling off him waves. He had accomplished what his master wanted.

~...~

After he took the Floo back to his Manor, Lucius quickly made his way to his Lord's wing. Coming to a stop in front of the door, he knocked three times and patiently waited for his Lord to bid him in.

"Enter."

He opened the door and walked in, closing it behind him. The Dark Lord was seated in his wingback chair with Severus sitting close by on the couch. Lucius walked over to them before bowing deeply.

"My Lord."

"Lucius," Voldemort acknowledged him. "I trust you have good news?"

"I have excellent news," Lucius smiled as he looked over at his Lord. "Your plan has been successful. Not fifteen minutes ago, the Minister and the Board of Governors have appointed me as the new DADA professor."

Voldemort smirked slowly and his crimson-brown eyes flashed in pleasure. "Excellent; things are moving along quite nicely." He nodded to Lucius. "Well done Lucius; I am most proud of you."

"Thank you My Lord," Lucius felt pleased at the praise. "If that is everything my Lord needed me for?"

"You may go Lucius," Voldemort nodded, "Be advised; we will meet again after dinner for a debriefing."

"Yes My Lord," Lucius bowed once again before leaving.

"Your plans are coming to fruition," Snape said as he stood up and walked over to his lover.

"Yes," Voldemort leaned back into his chair and looked at his potions master before reaching out to pull him into his lap. "The tides have just gotten stronger."

~…~

After Lucius had left, Remus walked through the stately manor to the main floo and travelled to Potter Manor to visit Harry. He found Harry outside in the garden, reading a book and now and then comparing it with a second one besides him.

"Hello cub, how are you?" Remus greeted his honorary godson.

Harry looked up at the sound of a voice pulling him into reality. With a big smile, he dumped the books on the ground and jumped up, shouting happily, "Moony! You´re back!"

He hugged the older man enthusiastically and then gestured to the chair besides his. "Come, sit down and tell me all about your journey to the wild packs. Do you want tea or something else?"

Remus could only chuckle as he listened to his godson; he was thankful that Harry sometimes acted like the teenager he still was. After he had satisfied Harry´s curiosity about his journey to the werewolf packs, Harry told him about his wish to exact revenge on a certain Undersecretary Dolores Jane Umbridge. When Remus heard for the first time in detail what exactly Umbridge had done to Harry during fifth year, he reacted similar to Voldemort - although for different reasons - with outrageous anger and assuring Harry that he would gladly help him to pay the toad back all the pain she had caused.

Remus had suffered like all other werewolves under the anti-werewolf legislation that was drafted by Umbridge in 1993. These regulations made it very difficult for people with lycanthropy to find legal employment, thereby forcing them like Remus into poverty. So it was a given that all the other werewolves hated the witch with a passion and would need no persuasion to help in chasing her around and tormenting her, on the contrary.

Remus agreed to leave again on the next day to talk to Fenrir on how to best arrange for the werewolf packs to meet on the night of the next full moon, which would be on Wednesday, August 28^th. He was pleased to hear that Voldemort had promised to keep the evening free of any meetings or gatherings, so nothing would interfere with Umbridge’s punishment from the Dark Lord’s end.

Fenrir knew the topography of Britain’s wilderness areas better than Remus did, so he would ask him to choose an adequate spot in a national park; like for example, in Dartmoor, Exmoor, Snowdonia, Brecon Beacons, North Yorkshire Moors, Northumberland, or the Cairnqorns. It had to be a remote place, far from any muggle or wizarding settlement and suitable for chasing the toad around a bit, with some grass, heather or open woodland, not too steep and mountainous. Harry himself preferred a place in England or Wales to Scotland, so that Hedwig would not have to transport him, Draco and a possibly struggling Umbridge too far from London.

Harry planed to talk to Draco to ask if he wanted to participate. With Hedwig´s help it should be relatively easy to sneak up on Umbridge in the early evening after work hours, stun and abduct her to a suitable spot. Voldemort had ordered Lucius to supply Harry with detailed intelligence on Umbridge, like how her day was usually organized and where she lived.

~…~

Albus Dumbledore was not a pleased man. Ever since the start of summer, things had gone bad to worse and he had no idea why or how to stop it or make it better; the will reading, the ring, and now, this latest episode with the Governors and Lucius Malfoy. He looked around the room and knew he had to call the meeting to a start.

Since Sirius had left Grimmauld Place to the Malfoy brat, he had had to find a new place to serve as the Headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix; something he was very displeased about. The only place he felt he could have it, other than his office at Hogwarts, was in his brother’s bar. At first glance, it might not sound like a safe idea, but they used the pub whenever Aberforth would have his day off and the pub would be closed to the public—like now.

Sighing, he knew he had to let the members know the latest news, so he stood up. “Silence.”

Immediately all noise ceased and Albus smirked inwardly at the power he held over them. “Welcome to another Order meeting. Now, before we start, I’m afraid I have some pressing news to pass on.”

“What is it Albus?” Kingsley Shacklebolt asked.

“Two days ago,” Albus started, “I attended a meeting with the Board of Governors, the Minister and Lucius Malfoy.”

“Whatever for?” Minerva McGonagall asked as murmurs broke out amongst the others.

“It was apparent that Lucius had requested a meeting with them to discuss my tenure as Headmaster,” Albus continued on with his explanations. At his words, the murmurs grew louder and angrier.

“They can’t take you from the school!” Molly Weasley screeched out as she moved to her feet, others echoing her statement.

“I am humbled by your faith,” Albus said softly, though inside, he was smirking with delight.

“Albus,” Minerva looked at her long time friend. “They already tried to take you from the school before and we saw how that turned out. They cannot possibly think they will find another Headmaster to rule.”

“Fear not Minerva,” Albus soothed the ruffled feathers. “My position as Headmaster is still very much intact.”

“So the Governors saw reason then?” Arthur asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Albus sighed. “They were well and ready to remove from my post, however they were stopped by Lucius.”

“Are you saying that Lucius Malfoy,” Bill spoke up, “the man that has been out to have you removed from the school for years stood up for you?”

“Yes,” Albus nodded, “however it was not without reason. You see, I was able to retain my position as Headmaster under one condition.”

“And what condition was that?” Molly asked.

“The Governors wanted someone in the school to keep an eye on me,” Albus stated, “They wanted someone they could trust.”

“In what capacity would they be there?” Minerva asked. “And didn’t they learn anything from the deplorable woman Dolores Umbridge?”

“If you recall Minerva,” Albus looked at his friend, “there is but one position at Hogwarts that is open, that of the DADA professor, and yes, they have learned from Dolores.”

“So then,” Minerva started only to blanch as realization hit her. “No, Albus that cannot be.”

“What is it?” Arthur asked as he looked between the two.

“Albus,” Minerva ignored him to stare at her friend. “Tell me I have arrived at the wrong conclusions.”

“I’m afraid I can’t Minerva, for you are right,” Albus looked at her before looking at the room. “As I was saying, they allowed me to remain as Headmaster under the condition they place someone in the school and that someone is none other than Lucius Malfoy.”

“Are you saying,” Bill started.

“Yes William,” Albus nodded, “Lucius Malfoy is the new DADA professor.”

The room fell into a shocked silence. It lasted for a few minutes before once again, Molly Weasley allowed her displeasure to be known.

“They can’t bloody well do that!” Molly screeched. “Lucius Malfoy teaching our children, what were they thinking?!”

Her words were the opening everyone needed to start voicing their own opinions. In a matter of minutes, the room was filled with the loud, overlapping arguments. In the midst of it all, Bill sat with a smirk on his face, listening to everyone; he couldn’t wait to inform his Lord of the reactions to his latest plans.

~...~

It was now the 28^th, the day Harry would take his revenge on Dolores Umbridge for the hell she had put him through. Harry and Draco were watching and waiting for their target.

"How long does it take to buy cat treats? It's been at least fifteen minutes," whined Draco, whispering right into Harry´s ear.

Harry just shrugged one shoulder and leaned a bit more into Draco´s embrace; the years spend at the Dursleys had taught him patience. Some things could not be rushed; the toad would come out eventually.

Clad in black, Death Eater attire with hoods covering their telltale hair, silver masks on their faces and hidden under Harry´s Invisibility Cloak, Harry and Draco were keenly watching the entrance to the Magical Menagerie. They stood, pressed tightly against each other – not that one of them complained - right at the corner of the building, in the narrow gap between the pet shop and the Twillfit & Tattings, the next shop, a few paces beyond the steps that led up to the entrance of Gringotts, a large white marble building.

A disillusioned Hedwig perched on the iron banister around the small balcony atop the portal of the Wizarding bank, waiting for her cue to fly down and land on Harry´s shoulder, ready to transport them to the forest clearing where Fenrir, Remus and the three packs would gather. Umbridge´s punishment would be the perfect celebration and bonding activity for the werewolves packs as the new allies of the Dark Lord.

Lucius, Yaxley, McNair, Travers and Selwyn had taken turns to observe Umbridge´s habits, especially her departure schedule in the evenings after work. On the last two Wednesdays, she had left the Atrium of the Ministry at a quarter to six, travelled through the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron and headed up Diagon Alley for the pet shop to buy food and treats for her cat. After that, she often did some other shopping before heading home.

After asking Voldemort for his opinion whether the operation should better be public or covert, Harry decided to stage her abduction here right in front of Gringotts and the pet shop. Because the kidnapping of Slughorn was so quick and successful, he wanted to repeat that action. If everything went as planned, other people shopping in Diagon Alley or in front of Gringotts would only notice two black clad, masked figures for a moment, before they disappearedin a sudden flash, without the typical crack of Apparation. When the Aurors arrived to investigate the incident, the Magical Menagerie´s shopkeeper would perhaps tell the Aurors and any reporters that Madam Umbridge had visited her shop; at least Harry assumed that she would remember Umbridge, because the woman was a regular customer on Wednesday evenings.

This whole mysterious occurrence should confuse and worry the public and the DMLE. If Umbridge did not turn up at work in the front office of the Minister tomorrow morning, it would put the Ministry in a tizzy and on the next day, the Daily Prophet would speculate about public security and why Umbridge had been abducted.

Finally, the door to the pet shop opened accompanied by a bell chiming, and Umbridge came out, carrying a small paper bag decorated with a lilac paw pattern in her hand. She stepped down the two steps to the sidewalk and turned to her left, walking in the direction of Gringotts and the Leaky Cauldron. As soon as she was a pace away from the corner of the shop, Harry pulled the cloak off. The two young men jumped forward, quickly dodging other pedestrians bustling along the street, wands raised with "Stupefy" and "Petrificus Totalus" on their lips.

The moment Umbridge noticed the two black clad figures to her left appearing out of nowhere she turned her head, blinking in bewilderment. Before she could pull her wand out or say anything, a stunner and the Body-Bind curse hit her in tandem.

Draco grabbed her stiff form before she toppled to the ground, while Harry threw the invisibility cloak over her and took a tight hold of both of them. A second later, Hedwig landed on Harry´s shoulder and flashed all of them away, leaving a shocked, babbling and frightened crowd of evening shoppers behind, standing around a lost bag of cat food spilling its contents to roll around on the cobblestone street.

~...~

They landed in a clearing surrounded by a loose circle of oak, ash, blackthorn and hazel bushes and some conifer trees. Draco and Harry let go of Umbridge the second their feet touched down and jumped away from her, which caused her to crash onto the rocky ground. Both young men managed to stay on their feet, this landing went better compared to the last time, when they had landed in a tangled heap on the floor of the dungeon together with their captive, Horace Slughorn.

"Hedwig?" Harry looked around for his familiar. A rustling of wings, then he felt her claws digging into his shoulder and her soft feathers near his face. He raised his hand to caress her breast; she nipped him lightly on the fingers to show her affection.

"There you are, well done, that was perfect!" he praised the intelligent bird. Carefully he raised his wand to touch her. "Come, let´s get that charm of you. Finite Incantatem." The air besides him seemed to ripple and a moment later, he could see her body again.

"Beautiful as ever," he cooed. "Do you want to fly around for a while, or do you want to wait here, Hedwig?" She flapped her wings, cuffing him over the head with the tip of her wing while taking to the air.

|I will explore this area, and you should too; prepare yourself for the hunt later!|Hedwig told Harry.

While Harry was busy with Hedwig, Draco cast a summoning charm and deftly caught Madam Umbridge’s wand—which sailed through the air—with his seeker reflexes. Draco smirked at Harry, "That went well, absolutely perfect. Where are we?"

"Yes, that was fun. Hmm, Fenrir said this clearing is somewhere in the middle of Exmoor National Park, when he described the coordinates to Hedwig," Harry answered, while picking up his invisibility cloak from besides Umbridge and folding it into a small package, which he stuffed into a robe pocket.

"Ah, ok, I know where that is. So, where is everybody?" Draco looked around the clearing; they were alone, apart from the witch lying stiff as a board on the partly moss and fern covered ground.

Harry chucked. "We are quite early; it will take almost two hours until the moon rises, shortly before eight o´clock and sunset is also at seven past eight. Then the werewolves will start to gather here. We can leave her lying there until we come back. Hmm, perhaps better tie her up. Incarcerous!"

Ropes shot out of his wand, wrapping tightly all around the witch. With a swish and flick of his wand, he levitated Umbridge through the fern into a small furrow, half way underneath a blackthorn bush, effectively hiding her from view, scratching her face and clothes quite a bit in the process. Draco noticed a vicious smirk on Harry´s face.

For good measure, he cast silencing and sleeping spells on her, should the stunner or the Body-Bind curse wear of before they were back and a muggle repelling and Notice-me-not charm on the fern surrounding the blackthorn bush, should somebody wander around this forest who was not invited to the later 'celebration'. Satisfied with his preparations, Harry slipped his wand back into the wand holster that was hidden underneath the right sleeve of his black robe.

"So, whatever shall we do to pass the time?" Draco asked him in a teasing voice, stuffing his mask into a pocket.

With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, Harry walked backwards while also taking of his mask and stuffing it in another pocket. Then he turned around and started to walk down a narrow path through the trees.

“We could always go back to the manor,” he said over his shoulder, his face telling that he didn’t prefer that option. "Or better, let's explore, get a feel for this area! Fenrir said there are woodlands and heaths and little clearings full of grass, moss and fern, really quite cosy, if one wants to rest and take a nap..." While talking, he had started to jog.

"Ohhh, I didn´t have so much resting in mind. Hey, wait for me!" With a happy shout, Draco followed Harry racing down the path.

~...~

Dolores Umbridge suddenly woke up and had no idea where she was. She felt cold, sore, stiff and battered; her hands and face hurt, as if a cat had scratched her. Touching her face, she felt small cuts and abrasions. How come?

Blinking her eyes and slowly sitting up, she noticed first that she was on a hard, rough, cold surface and that it was getting dark. In the twilight, she noticed some ferns, bushes and tree trunks a couple of yards away. Wherever she was, it was completely silent apart from the sound of leaves rustling. So, she wasn´t in London anymore. But no birdsong sounded above her, weren't there usually some birds chirping during the twilight hour? Strange.

She sniffed and smelled forest, leaves, moss, nature, but also something else. What was that? It smelled similar to wet dog fur?

Confused, she scrambled to her feet and looked around, while quickly patting down her pockets and checking her sleeve. No wand. Her wand was gone!

What happened and where was she?

A memory surfaced abruptly; she had just walked out of the Magical Menagerie, when two black clad men with silver masks accosted her, a bright red light had hit her at the same time she felt all her muscles size up and her body stiffen, then darkness – they must have stunned and bound her. Why?

Turning in a full circle, Umbridge´s panicked gaze took in her predicament. She stood in an overgrown clearing in a forest. The sun must have set as the full moon was rising and sending shafts of bright silver light through gaps in the clouds between the trees. A fine drizzle fell down from the sky, it was getting colder and damper by the minute.

Scared, she called out, "Hello? Is there anybody here?"

A movement near the ground between the bushes caught her attention. Shapes moved about, dark shapes, quite large with glowing eyes. Many eyes, and then a low growl resonated all around her.

Her frenzied mind put the facts together in a second, because dim or naive she was not. This was a forest, today was a night of the full moon, the growling shapes, that dog like smell – werewolves! A circle of angry werewolves surrounded her! Hear heart couldn't decide whether it should stop beating or jump out of her throat in horror. Terrible memories of the centaur´s assault froze her. This was worse! She tried to Apparate, but nothing happened. Dolores struggled to breathe and find a way out of her rising panic. She decided to do what she always did, demand respect, and try to get back control over the situation.

So she stood straight and prim, raised her chin and took a deep breath before speaking in an imposing tone. "How dare you to take me hostage? Release me at once, you filthy half-breed creatures!”

The words evoked a chorus of hisses and snarls from the trees around her.

“I am Dolores Jane Umbridge from the Ministry of Magic!” She called out towards her audience; perhaps they didn’t know how important she was? “I demand respect! The Department for the Control of Magical Creatures will punish you all harshly for this act of treason. Let me go! Hand over those criminals responsible for abducting me from London to the Ministry to avoid severe punishment for all werewolves. If you let me go at once, I will speak in your favour."

Loud growls, yelps and snarls answered her as the circle of wolves became clearly visible in the moonlight, as they all stepped forward out of the shade of the trees and bushes onto the clearing. Dolores backed up, but there was nowhere to run; she was surrounded by werewolves.

“You are quite delusional witch, aren’t you?” a gravelly voice called out. “Encircled by all the werewolves of Britain and still you dare to insult us?”

At the same moment, someone pushed from behind, she stumbled to the right.

“How dare you! Let me go!” she screamed hysterically, trying to turn around.

Another shove came out of nowhere; she heard vicious snarling behind, this time though, claws ripped her robe open and deeply scratch her shoulder. It hurt like fire. Blood splattered in a wide arc. A shadow jumped lightning fast towards her from the other side, slashing at her hip, ripping open her robe on that side as well, followed instantly by more burning pain when the claws tore skin and muscle away.

The twin attacks caused her to screech in fear. “Ahh! No! Stop it! How dare you to hurt me, you filth! Go away!”

The incensed werewolves roared and growled at her from all sides, a cacophony of angry voices. They were staring at her, some jumping forward and giving false charges, their jaws open in a sinister way that promised more blood and pain. She stumbled back and forth, trying to evade the sharp teeth snapping at her.

“Shut up!”

“How dare you to call us filth!”

“Fucking Ministry bitch!”

“Now you’ll get your just desserts!”

“You’re the reason I lost my work and now live in a dump!”

“Yeah, it’s her, bloody Umbridge!”

Panic overwhelmed her. They knew who she was and didn’t cower? What should she do? What could she do? Trembling from head to foot, she stood still her as her eyes darted around wildly, trying to find a breech in the circle of wolves, a means of escape. She tried again to Apparate, but again, nothing happened. And where was her wand?

“Tsk, tsk, now, where do you plan to go?” the gravelly, growling voice addressed her again from behind. “Our moonlight party has just started.”

Turning around towards the voice, she could barely make out the shape of a tall, broad shouldered man with shaggy hair. His silhouette was half bathed in moonlight, half hidden by the dancing shadows of the trees. How was there suddenly a man among the werewolves? A moment ago there were only werewolves milling around her. Could he change his shape at will? Was that possible?

“Who are you?” she asked the man.

“My name is Fenrir,” he answered smugly.

Dolores gasped in terror. “F-Fen-Fenrir G-G-Greyback?”

He bowed with a sweeping gesture, “The one and only! Can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you though.”

She gulped and stuttered, shaking like a leaf, “W-what d-d-d-do you w-want?”

Fenrir laughed and the other wolves growled. “What do we want, she asks?”

He grinned at her, flashing his teeth. “Not very sharp are you, Umbitch? Let me remind you; what kind of law did you instigate back in 1993, hmm? Does that ring any bells? No? What about anti-werewolf regulations?”

She blustered back. “That was a very necessary law! Foul half-breed creatures like yourself cannot be allowed—Ahhh…no!”

Fenrir had enough of her foolish words. He jumped at her and punched her in the face and gut.

Dolores wheezed, flew back several yards and hit the ground. She doubled over her face scratched, her hands clutching her stomach, blood drenching her robes from the previous shoulder and hip wounds.

“Silence you fucking bitch!” Fenrir snarled, towering over her hunched form and delivering a kick into her side, causing a rib to crack. Dolores shrieked in pain.

“That law of yours caused nothing but trouble; more prejudice and injustice. All weres and their families suffered and still suffer because of you. You pushed us into poverty,” he explained the obvious to the stupid witch.

She shook her head, eyes wide in fright and stunned disbelief. Never, ever, had she considered that the stupid, smelly werewolves would dare to attack her, to pay her back. Outrageous! She had only wished to protect all the upstanding citizens of the Wizarding World from the foul creatures. Cornelius himself had signed the law!

Fenrir glared at her and snarled, “You know very well that your law made it almost impossible for registered werewolves to find a job and earn a living in a legal way. No more! You’ll get your punishment now and when the Dark wins this way—and make no mistake, we will win—we’ll be free again and can rightfully earn a living like any other witch or wizard. Now get up!”

The plump witch had managed to regain her footing by now, though not without difficulty, totally shell-shocked by the situation.

“W-what…but I-I-” she stammered, wiping the blood off her cheeks and nose with a pink handkerchief she had fumbled out of her pocket.

Fenrir stepped closer and Dolores recoiled in mortal fear; she felt dizzy from lack of air and blood loss.

“Now, you run,” he told her in a low voice that dripped with menace, sharp canines bared. All the other werewolves were silent and listened.

“If you manage to reach the border of the forest before midnight, perhaps we’ll let you escape.”

“What? Where am I? How far away is that border? How late is it?” she asked shrilly, shaking with fear as the blood continued dripping from her wounds. “B-but-but I have no wand to defend myself. Give it back!”

“That’s your problem. Run. Now! Take your chance, or we’ll rip you to shreds right here!” Fenrir snarled into her face.

Dolores swallowed, nodded and looked around; to her left, several werewolves backed up and opened up a break, a small gateway in their circle. She started walking in that direction, looking anxiously over her shoulder, just in time to witness Fenrir crouching down and transforming into a mighty, tall wolf once again. Scared, she looked forward and started to jog; she couldn’t run very fast with her high heeled shoes, torn robes and grievous wounds encumbering her movement. The laughter, growling and snarling of the werewolves rose again behind and in front of her.

She stumbled and caught herself before trying to run faster. There were so many! Everywhere, right and left between the trees, stood more and more of the dreadful, filthy animals! She had to get away! There was a patch winding through the trees, so she followed it. Gradually, silence fell around her.

The werewolves didn’t follow her at once, so she dared to feel a tiny flame of hope that she could and would find her way to the end of the trees. The light in the forest was shifting; the moon was bright and full, but sometimes, clouds moved in front of it. A faint drizzle fell on her, which she hadn’t noticed before in her panic. After a few minutes of stumbling and jogging, the trees thinned. Was this already the end of the forest? No…it was only another clearing, so she stumbled on, desperately searching for a new path through the dark trees in front of her.

Suddenly, she heard a howl rising far behind into the otherwise quiet night. Another howl answered from her left, then one from her right. She couldn’t see them, but all at once, she was certain that they would find her, as she was leaving a bloody trail. It was common knowledge that wolves had an excellent sense of smell. If only she had her wand, then she could heal her wounds and clean up the blasted blood!

Now more than desperate, she stopped for a second and flung her high heeled pink pumps away. She would try to run faster in her stockings. Looking back over her shoulder for a second, she could make out several dark shapes followed behind her. ‘Oh no, there they come again!’ flashed across her mind. They howled and growled and then, they divided; some broke off to the side and some continued on after her, snarling and snapping at her feet.

Dolores shrieked and tried to run faster, taking the next path towards the right where, not only did the spaces between the trees seem a bit wider, but more light from the moon shone down between them. The wolves behind herfell back as they slowed down, but she was too panicked to wonder about their unusual behaviour; she just kept running as fast as she could.

All of a sudden, there was another wolf on her right—snarling, snapping at her right hand and leg—and she realized that it had overtaken her to cut off her path. She veered to the left again, only to crash into a branch, but she didn’t let it slow her down.

The werewolves herded her this way and that way, until she was completely out of breath, heart racing like it would burst out of her aching chest any second. She often crashed into bushes and trees in the dark, though it alternated with brightly lit patches in the clearings. The wolves that came close only made false chargers or nipped and scratched at her, creating superficial injuries, but they didn’t try to bring her down in earnest. She was too terrified to realize that they were just playing with their prey—her.

Dolores didn’t know where to turn anymore—crazy with panic—but she kept moving. Abruptly the trees fell back and she stumbled into a moonlit bathed, open landscape. She was outside! New and stronger hope flared in her still frantically beating heart. Would they stop pursuing her? She looked over her shoulder for a moment while she kept stumbling over the heather and stone littered ground. Her feet hurt so much; they were bleeding from numerous cuts and her stockings were shredded. She wanted to stop but she couldn’t; why? There were several wolves racing after her out of the trees.

She could see them much better under the unobstructed moonlight and she couldn’t help but to wish they would stay under the canopy of the trees. Four of the werewolves that she had spotted were already bounding their way towards her, crossing fierce distances with each powerful leap, their sharp maws growling, snarling and snapping. Their ears were flat against their heads, their snouts crinkled with barely contained fury, their eyes dark with bloodlust.

The terrible sight gave her one last burst of adrenaline. She turned and scrambled up a slope as fast as she could. The werewolves chased her over the rising ground. Wheezing for breath, she stopped in the middle of the flat space on the hilltop. Her chest ached, her heart beat furiously against her cracked ribs, and it hurt so much everywhere; inside, outside and her feet. Her knees buckled as she just couldn’t stand or move anymore. She was dirty, bruised and bloodied. Any second now, she expected to feel the sharp bites of their jaws and their foul breath. She closed her eyes and crouched low on the ground, her arms over head, whimpering in fright.

After what seemed like hours, she realized that nothing was happening. Confused and scared, she looked up again. The werewolves had stopped a few meters away from her and sat down on their haunches, their yellow eyes fixed on her and tongues lolling out of their mouths. Watching in horror, she observed as the rest of the werewolves ran out of the shelter of the forest. Strangely, they didn’t attack straightforward, despite the fact that she was completely helpless, instead, they formed a wide circle—several rows thick—around her, keeping their distance, yet effectively cornering her in that spot.

It was terrifying and horrific sight. She had had no idea that there were so many werewolves in Britain; it looked like hundreds of them—much more than the number the Ministry had registered. She was drawn out of her musings when the wolves started howling again. It was a swelling and ebbing of sound all around her which caused every hair on her neck to stand up and her skin to wrinkle like gooseflesh. She shivered, trembled and whimpered from fear and exhaustion. She just couldn’t figure out what exactly they were waiting for. As if they heard her thoughts, the howling ceased abruptly.

A movement below the clouds and a soft, rushing, flapping sound from above had her looking towards the sky. Dark shapes flew from the forest towards her; they hovered a moment and then swooped around the hill she was kneeling on. Something glittered amongst the darkness, but she couldn’t make out whether or not it was a knife or a badge. After a few seconds, she did.

‘Brooms; these are humans, wizards, on brooms!’ the thought was exhilarating. ‘Perhaps they’re Aurors, surely they will help me?’

“Help! Help me, please! They are werewolves! Help me!” she called out.

The dark shadows rushed through the air and landed at the foot of the hill she was kneeling on.

‘Hmm, that looks like two cloaked wizards with brooms,’ she thought. ‘But, what about the third? I can’t see any broom. Perhaps he shrunk it real fast?’

Dolores was confused; nobody could fly like that without a broom…could they?

Again, she cried out as loud as she could. “Take heed, there are werewolves! A lot of them! Help me! I can’t get away! I lost my wand…please! Help me!”

She squinted and tried to see the dark shapes clearly, but it was difficult to make them out, although the moon was hanging high in the sky by now and bathing the heath covered ground in white light. The drizzle had stopped and there were much fewer clouds in the sky.

She didn’t understand. What were the wizards doing? Why didn’t they draw their wands and start hexing and cursing the werewolves? Dolores had caught her breath halfway by now and struggled to stand up so that she could see the circle of werewolves, and the advancing wizards below, better. In her mind, they had to be men, wizards, what else could the human shapes be?

The three men in black cloaks were walking, no, gliding, up the hill towards her. The werewolves moved to the side on their own, opening up a straight path towards the hilltop. It was very strange. It almost seemed as if the werewolves ducked down in submission when the wizards moved passed them. Dolores couldn’t make sense of what her eyes told her and she gaped at them.

When they came closer to her, she noticed that the taller one was walking in front and the other two smaller ones were positioned a step behind and to the left and right of him like guards or escorts. They all were black cloaks with a hood; the two behind had silver masks on their faces while the one in front wore just a cowl, so that his face was also hidden.

Dolores did not want to acknowledge who they seemed to be. Her frenzied mind supplied the answer still. ‘Death Eaters!’ Hooded black cloaks, white or silver masks, disguising all identifying features—these were the outfit of the Death Eaters, You Know Who’s followers; the terrifying, cruel soldiers of the Dark side.

‘No…that’s not possible…or is it?’ the thought whispered in her mind. She remembered that someone in clothes and silver masks just like these two had attacked her in Diagon Alley. But, if they were Death Eaters, then why would they kidnap her? She was not known as a supporter of Dumbledore. Wouldn’t purebloods despise werewolves and help a fellow wizard or witch?

The cloaked men had reached the hilltop during her mental raving and had stopped a few paces from her. Dolores still couldn’t make out their features, but she did notice how utterly silent the night had become; the wolves weren’t snarling, howling, barking or making any of the noises they had made earlier. She stared up at the tall man in front and red eyes gleamed at her from under the cowl.

“Please, please help me,” she begged him. “You…you are wizards, are you not? Please, have mercy!”

A sudden burst of magic hit her and her legs instantly gave out, causing her to drop to her knees; she barely caught herself with her wound-filled hands. She winced in pain and looked up.

The smaller man on the right stepped forward and spoke. “We are wizards indeed, but why should we help you? Did you show mercy when you had the power to humiliate and hurt me and others?”

Dolores gaped at him; the voice sounded male and young and yet, she couldn’t figure out who it was.

“No, you enjoyed torturing me,” the young man snarled. “You vicious, bloody toad!”

“W-what?” she stammered out, utterly confused and taken aback by the accusation. “What are you talking about? I didn’t torture anybody. This must be a misunderstanding. You are obviously confusing me with someone else. I am Dolores Jan Umbridge from the Ministry of Magic. Who are you, sir?”

The man chuckled, but it wasn’t in a friendly manner.

“Oh, I know exactly who you are alright. I’m Harry Potter. It’s a pleasure to meet you again Madam Umbridge,” he sneered in a mocking tone.

“Potter? That’s impossible, you are lying!”

Harry stepped closer to her and removed his hood and mask, revealing his face to her. She was shocked at his appearance; he no longer wore glasses and he wasn’t as scrawny and thin faced as when she had last seen him. But the trademark raven-colouredhair and green eyes—that narrowed at her—left no doubt that this truly was the face of Harry Potter.

“P-Potter, Potter, no, but--” the confused witch on the ground choked out. Panic seized her heart and throat and seemed to squeeze her like an iron fist. ‘What is Potter doing here, in these clothes? It’s impossible.’ She thought frantically. ‘Am I dreaming? Did one of them cast a Confundus charm on me?’

“I always get even Umbitch,” Harry spat at her. “I haven’t forgotten you. How could I ever forget what you did? You sent Dementors after me last summer; they almost killed me and my cousin. Fortunately, I can cast a Patronus! Because you didn’t believe that the Dark Lord was back, you forced me to write hours on end with a blood quill in detention. That amounts to torture, alright. You wanted to cast Crucioon me and use Veritaserumon me…a student! You kept me from my godfather until it was too late and now, now he is dead! So, you will pay and you’ll pay today!”

The short speech scared and bewildered her even more; Dolores didn’t want to believe her eyes and ears. Potter wanted revenge for last year? Was he the one that abducted her from Diagon Alley? How was this possible? Harry Potter was supposed to live in the muggle world during the summer; he couldn’t do any magic without alerting the Ministry. And, did he just talk about You-Know-Who by the very name only the Death Eaters and Dark side supporters used? She had to have misheard him; Potter was Dumbledore’s man, that’s what everyone in the Ministry of Magic believed.

“But Potter, how-what are you…?” she started to ask. Then, righteous anger overwhelmed her and she cried out, “You little brat! You deserved every one of your punishments last year. You always disrupted my classes with your cock and bull stories!”

Harry’s face looked murderous. “Shut up, you fucking bitch!” he growled at her.

But, Dolores was so shocked and confused that she didn’t heed him. Instead, her attention turned to how Potter and the other two figures looked and felt like. She couldn’t sense any magical aura from them and it never once occurred to her deluded mind that they were hiding their powers. Instead, she concluded that the Boy-Who-Lived had come with his two sidekicks, all of them mediocre, weak students who disguised themselves as Death Eaters to frighten her. She had already forgotten about how the werewolves had acted a few minutes before.

“What are you doing here in this getup, posing as Death Eaters? Is this a Gryffindor or Weasley prank? It’s not funny at all!” she screeched.

Harry grinned to himself, wondering if she was really that dumb. He could feel that Voldemort and Draco had bristled in anger for several minutes, but seeing as how they had previously planned this encounter, they kept it hidden. For the moment, the show was all Harry’s.

“Now, stop this masquerade and help me to get away from these werewolves,” Dolores suddenly demanded in her prim High Inquisitor voice that Harry and Draco remembered from last year. “You’re supposed to be the Golden Boy; the Chosen One; the Saviour. Not consorting with filthy animals.”

Harry and the other two men smirked at each other and then they started to sneer and laugh at her, the woman was out of her mind; this was beyond hilarious. The werewolves though, fell into a chorus of low growls and snarls upon hearing her call them filthy animals.

“Now you see me as the Saviour?” Harry snorted in amusement before he turned deadly serious in the blink of an eye. “Well guess what Umbitch? You’re too late. I’m no longer anyone’s saviour, but you, you can think of me as the Dark Angel.”

The declaration was done proudly, with the promise of pain and death blazing in his Slytherin green eyes and a vicious snarl showing his eyeteeth. Then, he stepped back two paces until he was at the side of the taller man again.

Dolores shuddered, gulped, blinked and even rubbed her eyes, as if all this was a hallucination or a bad dream. It couldn’t be reality as that concept was far too horrible for her mind to grasp. Potter couldn’t simply have power over her like this! She tried to stand up, but her legs still were like jelly.

‘Ooh, perhaps one of them cast the Jelly-Legs hex on me? No matter, I’ll get out of here and then, Potter will end up in Azkaban…where he should’ve been all along!” The triumphant thought echoed through her mind

She looked at the taller, heavily cloaked person standing next to Potter. She wondered if it was one of his friends, one of the red heads—a Weasley. Whoever this was, the man or boy hadn’t spoken so far. The face was indiscernible, hidden in deep shadows, only gleaming red eyes watched her.

‘No doubt some glamour or some trick of those Weasley twins,’ she assumed mentally.

“Who are you? Weasley, right?” the plump witch yelled at him. “You’ll be in so much trouble boy, for helping Potter!”

This finally caused a reaction, but it was not the one she had wished for.

A wave of fierce, dark magic slammed into her, crushing her mercilessly to the ground. She knew for certain now that the man was no Weasley, but a Dark wizard—for it could only be a dark wizard wielding such power that glided towards her. A second later, she was forcefully pulled up into the air by invisible manacles around her wrists. Dolores shrieked in pure terror, kicking out with her legs as she tried to find a purchase on the ground below, but it was useless; she was dangling helplessly in the air. Just who was this man?

Harry watched the scene unfolding before him cackling with glee inside his mind. Oh Umbitch would get the shock of her life. Voldemort had decided to use a glamour for this occasion as nearly all British werewolves were assembled here.

The cloaked and hooded man reached up and pulled his cowl down with one hand, while the other pointed a wand at her.

“You foolisssh woman!” a high, cold voice hissed at her.

Dolores was petrified from horror; her eyes and mouth bulging open but she couldn’t make a sound. Before her stood a tall man, cloaked in swirling, moving darkness, with white skin, a bald head and a face that was barely human with snakelike features; a flat nose, slits for nostrils and red eyes, whose pupils were slits—like a cat’s—gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. Dark power was rolling off of him in waves, shaking and suffocating her.

‘This must be Him; He-Who-Must-Not-B-Named! Oh Merlin and Morgana, I’m such a fool!’ Dolores realized in a flash of clarity within her confusion. She was really in deep, deep trouble.

“Formica Innumerusss!” Voldemort hissed with a vicious smirk, deliberately speaking the incantation out loud for the benefit of his two young companions so that they could learn a new dark curse and observe its effects over time.

“Ahhhh! No, get them off me! Nooo!” Dolores wailed when her skin was suddenly swarmed by black and red ants. They were everywhere, biting, stinging, and crawling over her body. How disgusting! They thronged between her breasts and legs; they climbed over each other from her shoulders up her neck, onto her head and scrambled into her hair, eyes, ears, nostrils and mouth.

She shook like crazy, jerking and twisting her body, in a desperate attempt to get them away or to shake them off, all the while shrieking incoherently, only to find that the ants would crawl into her open mouth every time they could. She spat some out, sneezing and coughing; they were already clogging the insides of her nasal passages and wandering down her throat. Wherever they clambered or ran over her skin, their acid burned like fire.

Harry and Draco watched interested and chuckled at the vile woman’s predicament.

Voldemort ended the curse after a few minutes when Dolores’ face had turned from red to blue; it appeared she was choking on the flood of tiny insects. The hysterical woman was in no state to listen or understand anything.

He looked over to Harry and commanded. “Clean her up.”

Harry hurried to comply; a few Scourgifies got rid of the remaining ants on her head and torso, while Anapneo cleared her airway from blockage, so she could breathe again. Looking closely at her, he noted that she was quite a mess; her clothes were torn and hanging in tatters, the exposed skin was inflamed, her face was swollen red and blotchy, her eyes were nearly swollen shut from the ants’ acid, blood was dripping down from the previous scratches and wounds, and through all that, she was still sobbing and hiccupping.

‘The ugly toad, she deserves this,’ thought Harry when he went a few paces back to stand again next to Draco.

“Madam Umbridge?” Voldemort spoke. “Stop the snivellingand listen, would you?”

She didn’t stop her crying or look up towards Voldemort, which was a big mistake; he hated people who cried, especially for no reason. A quick and voiceless ‘Crucio’ from him got her attention as she screamed like a slaughtered pig, even though he only held her under the curse for a mere thirty seconds. What a disgustingly weak witch.

With difficulty, she addressed him in a quivering voice. “Y-Yes sir?”

“Madam Umbridge, this is no Weasley prank at all,” he started, “Do you know who I am? Do you understand why you are in this position?”

Dolores shuddered and quaked uncontrollably, hanging with her arms pulled above her in invisible chains, breathing with difficulty due to the constriction of her chest. She struggled to formulate a response.

“I-I apologize. You must be…He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I’m so, so sorry I did…not…recognize your Lordship…as I should have,” Dolores croaked out in between gasps for air.

“Your apology is too late and meaningless. Lord Voldemort does not allow anyone to hurt or touch what is his. Precisely what did you think you were doing last year, hmm?” he growled at her, stalking in a circle to inspect her pitiful, unattractive form. Harry and Draco stayed a few paces away and waited.

“What do you mean? H-How did I offend your Lordship?” she asked, ending in a whimper of fear. “W-w-whatever it was, I didn’t-I didn’t mean to!”

“Do not lie to me!” Voldemort snarled, incensed at her. “You meant it! You dared to attack the Boy-Who-Lived!”

Dolores recoiled as if he had punched her, her eyes widening as far as possible. Her face paled dramatically. She was scared and confused; she didn’t understand why he would speak that way. After all, he hated Harry Potter, didn’t he? But then, what was Potter doing there and with him?

Her meandering thoughts were rudely interrupted when a burning hex slashed across her abdomen. She screamed and fixed her eyes once more on the darkest wizard of them all, showing him that she was eager to listen.

“You sent those Dementors to Little Whinging. They could have killed him! You tortured him last year under the pretence of detentions! Harry Potter was always under my protection. He was always mine—enemy or ally—and you dared to endanger and hurt him,” Voldemort spoke. “You tried to kill him when he was MINE to kill!”

Dolores gaped at him; this was madness!

Voldemort looked at her calculatingly. “You did not believe him when he said I was back, didn’t you? Why should Harry lie about something like that? Foolish woman. Your time is up, now you will pay for you crimes!”

Taking a few steps back towards Draco and Harry, Voldemort cast a wandless ‘Sonorus’ on himself before addressing Umbridge and their audience.

“My friends, the werewolves,” he turned around with a sweeping gesture, indicating the circles of werewolves surrounding the hilltop, “they have an old, justified grudge against you. That Werewolf Regulation Act from 1993 has caused them much difficulties and suffering. When we overtake the Ministry, this law will be declared naught and void, so that these wizards and witches can return to their old homes and lives, work their crafts and reopen their shops.”

At this declaration, a loud cheer went up; a cacophony of howls, barks and joyous shouts, because some of the werewolves had changed back to human form.

Voldemort, Harry and Draco looked around and smiled viciously.

Dolores whimpered in fear as she realized she would not get away anymore; she would die this late summer’s night under the bright white light of the full moon. The werewolves wanted her blood and they had allied themselves to You-Know-Who. Harry Potter, the Chosen One, was standing beside Him and Potter was not a prisoner of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name, but rather, the young man was clothed like a Death Eater and he had his wand.

It was the end of the Light side, of the Ministry and Dumbledore. But neither knew it and she couldn’t tell anyone because she was hanging here helpless in invisible chains. Trembling like a leaf in the storm, she looked over to the three wizards and realized that they were suddenly farther away. Why had they backed up so much during You-Know-Who’s short speech to the Werewolves? They were now standing nearly at the brink of the steep slope, leaving a lot of free space between her and them.

A howl rent the night air.

Voldemort nodded at Harry, who raised his arm high up in the air.

The werewolves of Britain fixed their yellow eyes on the Boy-Who-Lived standing next to the Dark Lord on the lonely heath covered hilltop in the midst of Exmoor Park under the velvety moon and starlit late summer night sky. This was a special night for all of them; the night of celebration of the new alliance between them. Nothing would stand in their path. They were many, and they were strong.

Harry looked at Umbridge, smirking and enjoying the terror in her face and in her voice as she screamed shrilly. “No! Potter! Please! Don’t!” it was the purest music to his ears. Letting his dark magic flare around him, he slashed his arm down, his wand shooting out a shower of red, gold, silver and green sparks.

Draco shivered in awe from Harry’s display of dark power; his lover looked gorgeous.

Dolores shook in dread, screeching a last, “Nooo!” towards the heavens.

Upon this signal, the mass of werewolves surged forwards, racing upwards; jumping, snarling, snapping, biting and clawing at the bound witch. Umbridge was torn to pieces alive and her frenzied shrieks rent the air.

After a while, Voldemort let his Dark magic surge forward. When they felt that, the werewolves cowered and reluctantly let go of Umbridge. Barely alive, she opened and closed her eyes, moaning and wheezing, bloody foam gurgling out of her mouth, rivers of blood spurting out of the shredded, torn stumps of her arms and legs. She was a complete and utter mess, lying on the blood, piss and shit soaked ground. The remainder of her shivering body covered in blood and gore, dripping out of the deep gashes in her chest and abdomen, entrails sloshing and curling half inside, half outside, ripped apart.

Voldemort, Harry and Draco stepped forward to inspect her, but Draco shuddered and quickly turned around, fighting not to vomit as he hurried away; he didn’t need to look any closer.

Harry shook his head at his boyfriend’s squeamishness and shared a look with Voldemort. It was truly a gruesome sight, the barest remains of the once human woman. The werewolves had drawn and quartered her alright; it was quite a medieval form of execution, which Harry and Voldemort found totally appropriate for the vile witch. She would be dead in a minute from the blood loss.

With a quick ‘Petrificus Totalus’ Harry rendered her torso and head unable to move. Another flick, levitated her up into a comfortable height for what he intended to do next. He moved the torso a few feet to the side, so that they would not have to step into the mess on the ground.

The Dark Lord stepped up besides Harry and tapped his wand onto Umbridge’s forehead for a moment, while hissing an incantation under his breath. A moment later, a smaller, simpler version of the Dark Mark was branded into her skin, the skull covering her forehead and the snake slithering down out of its mouth, down her nose and into her bloody mouth and back again to form the symbol of infinity.

Harry admired the snake; it looked quite realistic for a tattoo. It undulated in a disturbing fashion on the ruined face, which appeared frozen in a grimace of terror and agony.

He glanced at Voldemort and asked, “Will the tattoo continue to move even when she’s dead?”

“No, this is no true Dark Mark, only a copy,” explained the Dark Lord.

“Oh,” Harry nodded, “ok.”

Voldemort nodded to him and stepped back; his part in the preparation was finished. He intended to use the opportunity to speak with Fenrir and the other werewolf clan leaders.

Out of a pocket of his robe, Harry pulled a quill. Careful to not get any of her disgusting blood or intestines on his clothes if he could avoid it, he bent over Umbridge’s hovering form. On her face, from left chin up over her cheek, nose and over the right cheek, he wrote a short message to the wizarding world using her blood:

This vile woman was punished because of her crimes against children and werewolves.

While Harry mentally maintained control of the levitation spell, he used his wand to change the thin bloody letters into thicker lines with a few taps, shimmering in dark red, black and green, so that they were better to read upon the injured, flaky skin. Another tap with a burst of magic fixed them permanently.

The journalists and Aurors were supposed to be able to read it in a few days. Voldemort and he had planned that Umbridge’s head should still be recognizable, to be found in the early morning on September second in the front of the Daily Prophet in Diagon Alley—a Death Eater would deliver it on time—branded with the Dark Mark and inscribed with their message.

Umbridge’s frozen, panicked eyes were duller now, rapidly losing any expression. She didn’t wheeze so loud anymore. The blood and bloody foam was not gushing, merely dripping down from her many wounds. She was dying in agony, just like they had wished.

Harry took a half step back and aimed his wand at her neck. He gathered his magic and with a brisk, slashing motion—as if he wielded a sword—he incanted, “Sectumsempra!” effectively beheading her. The severed head would have fallen to the ground had he not quickly grabbed it by the hair with his left hand.

“Ugh, that’s so gross,” Harry said before he levitated the corpse a few feet away and let it hit the ground with a loud, squelching sound in the middle of the pool of blood. Then, he twirled his wand around to conjure up a black sack into which he gingerly stuffed the toad’s head. An Impervius Charm later and he had an effective means of transportation, one which wouldn’t leave blood dripping all over his robes.

While Voldemort was standing down at the foot of the hill, still talking with Fenrir and the other clan leaders, Harry looked around in search of Draco. He was looking forward to a nice shower, a glass of something stronger than butterbeer and then a comfortable rest wrapped around his boyfriend; but first, he needed to find him. A moment later, he spotted the blond standing a couple of yards away on the side of the hill with his own mask removed and looking out over the moonlit moor. Fortunately for Draco—and the wolves—he was left alone as the werewolves paid him no mind. Carefully placing the sack on the ground, Harry made his way over to his boyfriend.

“Are you ok?” he asked when he was standing in front of him.

“I’m fine,” Draco nodded, “I’ve never seen anything so gruesome in my life, so I was understandably caught off guard.”

“Fancy way for saying you puked ‘cause you were squeamish,” Harry grinned.

“I am not squeamish!” Draco straightened up and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“You were just caught off guard,” Harry teased.

“Exactly,” Draco huffed, slightly frustrated at the dark haired teen’s teasing.

“I’m just messing with you,” Harry smiled and placed his arms around Draco’s waist, drawing the boy closer. “How do you really feel?”

“I know,” Draco rested his head on Harry’s shoulder. “If you’re asking if I’m bothered by what you did tonight, then no, I’m not. If the way you tortured Gibbons at the beginning of summer didn’t turn my mind from you, what makes you think what happened here tonight would? Besides, the bitch deserved it for how she treated you. If it wasn’t the fact that this was your revenge, I would’ve helped you curse her.” He lifted his head and looked at Harry, his grey eyes searching the green ones. “I had no idea she had done all those things to you.”

“I know you didn’t,” Harry replied. “I never blamed you for it; not even when you joined her squad.”

“Good,” Draco smiled in relief. “I’m glad.”

Harry kissed him and it was full with so much passion and heat that when they pulled back, both boys’ eyes had darkened slightly and they were panting a bit.

“Let’s go before I take you here and now,” Harry whispered against Draco’s lips before capturing them in another kiss, this one shorter.

“Ok,” Draco nodded.

Harry stepped back before grabbing Draco’s hand in his and walking over to where Umbridge’s body and head were. Casting a levitation charm, the head floated in front of the two wizards as they made their way to where the Dark Lord and everyone else were.

“I trust it finished,” Voldemort said when they stopped a few feet away.

“Yes My Lord,” Harry inclined his head in a slight bow.

“Very well,” Voldemort nodded before turning back to Fenrir and the other leaders. “We will continue with our discussion at a more appropriate time. This is your night, so enjoy it.”

“Thank you my Lord,” Fenrir bowed. “And we will.”

Voldemort nodded once more before turning back to Harry and Draco. “Let us depart.”

Voldemort apparated away while Harry and Draco summoned and mounted their brooms once more, before the two young wizards took off into the sky. They didn’t want to disclose the secret that Hedwig, a white phoenix, had bonded to Harry to all these werewolves, so the boys planned to fly until they were about a mile away, before Hedwig would meet them and flash them back to Potter Manor. There, they would spend the rest of the night relaxing and relishing in the success of their mission.

A/N 2: before I say anything else; (##) is to tell you that the conversation is continued on in SIOS on Tonks-is-Cool’s page; the conversation in kind of long, so she will break it down into about seven chapters. You have to read those chapters to understand the upcoming Hogwarts chapters and to get more insight into the workings of Voldemort’s and Harry’s mind and relationship. With that said, we really hope you guys loved this chapter, especially the final scene with Umbridge. Remember to review so we know what you think.

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Rise of the Dark Angel