Harry Potter, Overlord 1. Prologue

**Hello, this is my first time in uploading a fic on this site. I have always been a fan of the Overlord game nad Harry Potter universe so I decided to have my pick at a crossover. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Overlord or Harry Potter. Only my own characters.  
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><p>Domination Anew<p>

Prologue

The Infernal Abyss didn't looks so boring the first time he saw it. It held a tint of mistery to it and kept him at his toes, but now, being the ruler of the god forsaken dimension, it is as dull as a rock that is under his metal boot.

The exploder of Melvin Underbelly, Slayer of the Perverted Paladin, Wielder of Arcanium, The Overlord is the ruler of the Infernal Abyss and has been on the throne for a century now.

Time is of no relevance in the Abyss and thus the Overlord hasn't aged at all.

For several years it was pleasing to torture the Seven Heroes over and over again but it proved monotonus and repeating it would drive him insane.

He sometimes took a peek to see what is happening in his former domain. He was severely distraught as all the land he conquered was reduced to dust and turned into a magical wasteland by a foolish elf. He cursed his idiocity for letting the elven race live.

Along with faint nostalgia for his former domain, he misses Rose and Gnarl's witty comments. He laughed several times at Gnarl's comments as he guided his son through the various challenges the Glorious Empire put up in his way, he could only feel proud for such a son. But after that it pained him to watch as his son slowly aged and to see Rose pass away, while Gnarl looked all the same, a dedicated servant of Darkness. His son decided to prolong the line and concieved a child with Kelda, his childhood friend. He liked Kelda as he saw that she was the only one that really cared about his son and gladly gave his blessing, although they didn't really need one. Krin was the name of his grandchild, and a little scamp from the beggining. While he could watch his family live their lives, it hurt to not be a part of it and see them die of old age while he cannot. After that he refrained from looking back to his former home.

After countless and fruitless attempts in driving away the boredom, from watching wraiths fight to the death and using Wiliam as a golf club to playing bowling with Underbelly, he decided for one last attempt, he searched every nook and crany of his domain. Usually he would order the wraiths to search for something, but searching for it on his own atleast drove away the boredom, also he doesen't even know what he is looking for in paticular. He knew the entire land like the back of his sword

It wasn't in vain. After finding the spot where the Dark Tower should be, instead of the tower he found some sort of a crypt. It didn't take him long to realize that it resembled the spot where he was found by Gnarl. Expecting to enter the Spawning Pit following the stairs down, instead he found a large chamber shrouded in mist. In the middle is a large basin full of black water, above it is a circular skylight, letting in the red light from the crimson sky that was the weather of this hellish dimension. Despite the offered light, the basin is shrouded in eerie darkness, as if the light is too afraid to touch it. Into it's circular walls are chiseled bookshelves which are filled with books.

His fingers laced across the spine of each book as he passed a full circle around the room. One in paticualr caught his attention. It's spine shines molten gold and is richly decorated with strands of silver and gold across it's leather front and back. It had no title and thus intruiged him, he opened it but found the lack of light very annoying.

He brought the book to the basin to have some light. The book's old pages shined a golden hue at the red light and revealed very neat handwriting. The writer must have been someone who was proud of his writing, and it is very detailed.

He skimmed the pages for anything interesting until he found a section about portals, he muttered as he read, the absence of sound almost drove him to madness sometimes and has started to say his thoughts out loud along when he rarely read. Also, he was always interested in portal magic ever since he got stuck in the Abyss.

As he muttered the basin rippled with each illegible word. Only after it splashed that it caught the Overlord's attention.

He narrowed his eyes at the rippling surface. It caught the Overlord by surprise and lunged itself upon him, engulfing him. Slowly it turned into sludge as it dragged the resisting victim back into the basin.

Soon enough the fluid turned back into its former form, without a trace of the Overlord that stood above it several moments ago.

"What in the hell!" The Overlord screamed as he found himself flunged into the air suddenly. His flight was stopped as gravity took control and forced him back onto the ground.

The fall was hard and he could feel his armor shatter, figures, after wearing it for a century in that kind of climate made it frail and weak. He stood back up and rearranged his wicked crown.

"Another one?"


	2. New Life

**I'm so sorry for not updating for so long, school has been a pain. Test after test gave me little time to write, plus they totally shut down my inspiration and willigness to write. I apologize if this chapter is crappy. Also thanks for the faves and all!**

****Disclaimer: I don't own Overlord or Harry Potter. Only my own characters.****

****Poll Open! Check it at my profile!  
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><p>Chapter 1<p>

New Life

Harry lived a life... If you could call it one, full of danger and pain. The sheer amount of constant strain on his mind and body would drive a child his age insane. While Harry resisted only because Ron and Hermione helped, their support faltered as the feelings between them were revealed and started going out, Harry's mental state was the least on their minds.

Needless to say, Harry's mood darkened as each day passed, first he stopped talking to anyone, then it grew into a constant isolation in his dorm, only going out to go to class. The ussual bickering between him and Malfoy became non-existant, which unnerved both the Gryffindors and Slytherins.

Malfoy tried several times to provoke a reaction from The-Boy-Who-Lived, but got nothing. The blank stare that Harry sent him at each comment sent shivers down his spine, the stare looked melancholic and distant. Ron and Hermione felt guilt for letting their friend fall apart at the seams and alerted Dumbledore about it.

The old Headmaster only rubbed his beard in thought and sent them to their classes. It has been only three months since the Triwizard Tournament and the return of the Dark Lord. The Ministry of Magic denied all claims that Voldemort is back and discredited Harry as a fraud and for crying wolf. Only Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore truly believed what Harry saw that day.

Alas, Dumbledore couldn't act. Harry closed himself to everyone and even Snape's attempts to invade Harry's mind failed, the barriers were strong for someone in such depression.

Ron and Hermione one weekend decided to take Harry with them to Hogsmeade. It took them two hours to coerce the raven haired teen to come with them. They thought the winter wonderland that surrounded the small cozy village would lighten him up a bit, it proved fatal.

Nobody knew why he took that step, although they had a good idea why. Hermione kept muttering in gibberish for the last two weeks when she saw what happened, Ron was broken.

It happened when they reached the small village. They followed their routine and went to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer and after that visited Honeydukes to see if any new candy arrived or was invented. While Ron and Hermione were checking out the candy, Harry disappeared. It took them several minutes to track the renegade teen down. They found him in one of the surrounding fields, standing infront of a dark, deep hole. Ron and Hermione approached him until he gave them a blank stare and took a step forward. His form vanished into the hole, several seconds later was heard a sickening crack.

After reporting of what happened and searching the hole, they found no body, only a pool of blood.

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><p>Harry groaned as he opened his eyes and light invaded. He hazily remembers light and that he took a step into darkness and seconds later, again light.<p>

"Ah you are awake, Sire." A gruff voice came from the side.

Harry slowly sat up, his muscles felt weak and was unable to lift himself up, two pairs of hands helped him up. He turned and saw a pair of yellow glowing eyes attached to a goblin-like creature.

"A Goblin?"

"Goblin? We are nothing like them! We are Minions."

"Minions?" Harry could barely keep his eyes open as he was quickly rushed off of the spot he was sitting on.

"Everything will be explained soon enough, Sire." The minion turned and led Harry to a large throne room, although it is in clear dissrepair and is a crumbling ruin. Only a few torches light up the dank place and sounds of some liquid dripping filled the room.

"Your throne."

Harry sat on the stone chair and took a better look at the strange creature before him. Large eyes dominated the face and several sharp teeth protruded from his upper lip. It's skin is a stone gray and is wearing a fur robe.

"My name is Rip, Minion Master and a devoted servant of evil. I do apologize for the mess, but our last Overlord left with that Veela in quite a hurry and left this to be ransacked by animals and looters! That scoundrel of a Veela!"

"Overlord? Wait, scoundrel? Can't Veelas only be female?"

"I thought that so too, it seems I have been wrong. An Overlord is an embodiment of pure evil. Which now are you."

As Rip finished, brown Minions entered the room with pieces of armor in their hands. They dragged the teen out of the throne and strapped the heavy armor onto him, the gauntlet on his right hand glowed bright red as it was placed onto his hand. Finally his face was cloaked with a black garb along with a red loincloth and a crowned helmet shrouded his face. Only his green eyes glowed bright within the darkness.

"Evil is sweeping the land and we don't like it if it isn't us. Dark Lord Voldemort, pah! We will have to do something about that."

Voldemort! It came back to Harry what he did. He tried to kill himself. God, he even fails at killing himself.

"How long have I been asleep?" Harry turned towards Rip.

"Hmm... We found your Highness one year ago. The Castle Heart kept you alive and has linked with you, making you our new Overlord. During your absence, Voldemort rose to power and is now waging a cold war. But first I should introduce you to your domain, Sire."

Harry nodded, expecting to get more information later, and followed the small Minion to a pool that is faced by windows, swaths of seagrass rose from the sandy bottom behind them and is connected to the throne room with a long hall.

"This is your portal, through which you are able to visit other parts of your domain. Below it is the Castle Heart, your power source. Please follow me, a walk will do wonders for your limbs."

The Minion and Harry descended a set of stairs into a cavern, it has four sections at each corner. In the middle is a faintly humming orb slightly larger than Harry.

"This is the Spawning Pit, Master. From here your minions spawn out of lifeforce. Currently only the brown hive is in the castle, others have left as soon as the last Overlord was gone."

Five brown Minions scurried towards Harry. They cheered in gibberish and bowed. Small cudgels in their tiny hands flailed around.

"The browns are your fighters. They can use various objects as weapons, Unlike other Minion tribes, they are the sturdier and crazier of them all."

"Unfortunately, the Heart is severely weakened. Your body was badly damaged and required vast amounts of magic to completely repair the muscles and bone. It took an entire year to finish the job."

Shortly after the Castle Heart suddenly started to hum more loudly and get brighter. Rip quickly noticed the change. A pondering look flashed across the minion's face until he quickly rushed back upstairs. Harry decided to follow him. The five brown minions followed the young overlord close behind.

Since his muscles are still weak, it took Harry a few minutes to climb the numerous stairs. When he reached the final step, Rip was waiting for him by the Portal. The brown minions looked at it curiously.

"It's not me!" One of them exclaimed in defense.

The once clear water turned black and it's surface turned into a sludge-like substance.

Immediately afterwards, a large form was launched out of it. It flew several feet before crashing onto the broken floor. Pieces of metal spilled onto the floor as the armor the figure was wearing shattered.

It stood up and arranged the dark helmet it is wearing back to it's position. It is clad in black clothing, dark as the void, the only pieces of armor remaining is his metal boots, the metal belt with the loincloth, a single shoulder pad along with a glowing gauntlet on his right arm and the crowned helmet.

"Another one? How interesting." Rip rubbed his chin.

"What do you mean another one?" Harry asked.

"See the gauntlet, Sire? It is the sign of an Overlord. His presence must have powered up the Heart."

Harry noticed that the metal glove resembled his in some parts but the rest of the design is totally different.

Meanwhile the Overlord tried to make heads or tails with the situation. He gazed at the many pieces of which his Arcanite armor was comprised. He tensed as the blade he always carried with him proved to be gone and not hanging on his waist. _Me __and __my __stupid __habits, _thought the Overlord. His eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of lighting, it was actually soothing. Was he to face sunlight again, it would surely burn, or remind him of Mellow Hills for that matter. The dank air sweeped up his nostrils and he concluded that he is somewhere underground. Silent sounds reached his ears and turned to see what is behind him, his fists were closed into large balls.

What he saw wasn't what he expected. Infront of him is standing a minion along with what seems to be an Overlord. He gave an appraising look at the smaller being infront of him.

"But, there are no other known Overlords that are still alive."

"What about the last one?"

"He left a century ago."

Harry could see that the large being infront of him is trying to determine what he is and his state. The red eyes bored into the darkness that shelters his face, making him unsettled.

_He __is __weak ,__that __makes __it __even __easier __for __me. _the Overlord thought. While he is an honorable person but the situation he is in poses extreme danger and having been transported to another dimension, if it is, only increased it. By the state of the Overlord's domain, he concluded that he is quite new and probably has only a small group of minions, which are easy to defeat.

The Overlord took a fighting stance and quickly launched his fist, targeting the thin plated abdomen of his opponent.

Harry barely had the time to evade the large fist, his muscles slowly reacted. He managed to gain some distance by moving several steps back. Rip's eyes have gone wide at the sudden action, soon enough his expression took a dark tone.

"Raise your gauntlet, my Lord."

Harry did as it was suggested, a low booming horn sounded and ten brown minions quickly grouped behind him. After that, he pointed at the Overlord and the minions charged like flies.

"You are a natural." Rip commended and watched as the mnions were quickly bashed against the ground and walls with relative ease by the second Overlord. Harry wondered why did Rip have such certainty of their victory.

"I suggest in using one of your spells that paralyze enemies, Sire."

Again Harry done what was suggested, but reluctantly, he has no wand. He remembered the Petrificus Totalus spell and cast it while his opponent was busy having fun with his minions. It was surprising that he managed to cast it so easily, it barely took any concentration.

And fun did he have, the Overlord hasn't fought anything or anyone for a century now. This was refreshing. He enjoyed the feeling that rushed through him as his fists cracked the necks and bones of each minion, they were only but flies to him. His rampage was stopped as his muscles refused to listen to his commands anymore and has been stuck in a towering pose, they were frozen stiff by a spell. If he could move his lips, he would have smirked, Overlords can naturally drain any type of magic or magical source. The Overlord started to drain but it had no effect, the spell didn't let go. He was confused.

Rip approached the stiff juggernaut, a devilish smirk gracing his old lips "Just as I thought. Sire, he won't be moving anytime soon. Now, please, follow me."

Rip slithered back to the Spawning Pit, having Harry following him close behind. Harry took a glance at his restrained enemy, seeing searing anger in the Overlord's eyes before descending down the cracked stairs.

All the things that happened just now and with Rip telling him nothing at all pissed Harry off. Just by trying to kill himself brought him more responsibility, he can't even have a peacefull death. If Rip doesen't explain what is happening, he swore to god that he will rip that minion apart.

"I've had enough of this, Rip. What the hell happened back there! Who is he! Why me!" Harry yelled at his supposed advisor, threathening with his metal plated hands.

Rip, on the other hand, seemed unphased by Harry's sudden outburst. In fact it seems he is quite used to it.

"Have you ever asked yourself why you live?" Rip asked cryptically.

"Because everybody is controling my life! You wouldn't even let me die! Hell! You got yourself an Overlord upstairs!" Harry turned to leave, before being stopped by what Rip said "What about your mother, father?" that was a low blow. Harry rigidly turned, his green eyes glowed with hatred and deep pain. In spite of that, Rip smirked. In respone to that Harry caught Rip by the neck and slamed him against the slick wall of the cavern.

"Kill me, and you will never have your revenge. I am sure that your inability of gaining revenge as Harry Potter was driving you mad."

Harry's eyes have gone wide, in his entire life no one realized that. Why would they? He was their champion against Evil and Voldemort, their saviour. Even after knowing what happened to him and his family, the Magical World kept getting him down and failing him. Rip grinned at his reaction.

Harry's grip slowly released from around the minion's neck and he fell on his two thin legs back on the ground.

Harry started laughing manically before restraining his outburst "You are the first person to have realized that in the entire magical world."

"Glad to be of service, my Lord."

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><p><strong>I'm still not sure should Harry be good and help against Voldemort or be evil and conquer everything.<br>**


	3. Time to Rebuild

******Disclaimer: I don't own Overlord or Harry Potter. Only my own characters.******

**Thank you all for the faves and reviews, it means alot to me. Chapter 2 here and it is quite big. Man, there is so much I want to explain about the Overlords that I have in my head, but that will be in further chapters. Anyway, if you find something that you don't understand, please message or review.**

**The Poll will last one more chapter. Results:**

**Evil: 4**

**Good: 0**

**You guys wanna see Diagon Alley burn, dont ya.**

**Harry will have many aspects of dark but he will be somewhat mercifull in some occasions so...**

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Time to Rebuild

"People and... things that were and will be Overlords are very special. They have an inborn ability to drain any magic they come upon, but they are born without it. Only few magics and spells can bypass that trait and cause damage." Rip paced forward and back as he explained while Harry clearly saw that it will take long and found a pleasant looking rock to sit upon.

"You were lucky and had a large boost of magic, the source I don't know, but since Voldemort wants to kill you, Im preety sure who it is."

_Boost?_Harry thought about the time when Voldemort tried to kill him, but his mother's love saved him.

"By the looks of the scar, it was the Avada Kedavra curse. A very potent spell, you must have drained a large proportion of energy from it and only left that scar."

Harry couldn't help but see Rip act like some potions master he hated so dearly. Rip stopped as he found his Sire's eyes locked upon him like that of an animal stalking prey.

"Am I boring you, Sire?"

Harry snapped out after realizing that he stared and looked away "No... Please continue."

Rip immediately continued in his lecture with the same tone he started with.

"I also must mention that the Heart along with the damage done to your Higness' body, it also repaired the long term damage to your muscles, bones and several other stunted organs. Your eyesight has also been improved and no longer are in need of glasses."

Harry realized that he is very agile and felt slightly taller than he used to, also he hadn't noticed that he had no glasses on.

Harry's revelry was cut short as heavy stomps echoed upstairs. Rip went on about some other things, not even paying attention to the sounds until the noise maker stepped into the Spawning Pit.

It happened to be the Overlord which Harry believed to have petrified just several minutes ago. What changed is that his former opponent is now wearing a heavy suit of armor, fangs and spikes are both drawn in red paint and are protruding out of the many places on it. It looked quite menacing along with his red eyes and intimidating posture, but he still held a noble grace.

"You are quite sharp." Rip turned around, looking quite pleased.

"It took me several minutes to realize what was happening." the Overlord's voice was coarse and deep, signs of little use.

Harry stood up and deducted that a fight won't be happening any time soon, the Overlord's shoulders have sunk for some reason.

"I think a welcome is in order? Welcome to Hogwarts!" Rip slightly cringed at the sound of the castle's name.

Harry's jaw went slack, thankfully the garb shielded his expression from view. While the teen was stunned, the Overlord just leaned back against the cave wall and crossed his arms.

"We are in Hogwarts?" Harry finally got himself back together after several moments.

Rip nodded "Master, an entire year has passed since your 'death' and the Christmas holidays have only but a few days left. Enough time for you to scout out the rest of your domain."

Harry began to trust the small creature but he still had his suspicions about him, many of the suggestions have had wierd effects on him. He turned at the sound of the Overlord stomping away back upstairs.

Rip told Harry how to use the Portal and that it has ancient magical links with the surrounding parts of the castle and beyond. He also mentioned that he will be able to talk to him through the Heart and provide additional advice if needed.

"I recommend aquiring your personal affects first. They should be in your former dorm room."

Harry nodded and faced the old basin infront of him. Rip told him of a link that connects somewhere nearby his old Common Room.

The teleportation was far less hectic than Apparation or the Portkey, which Harry was thankfull for, he was hardly getting used to apparating.

Harry found himself standing on top of a small stone platfrom which glowed with magic. As soon as he got off, it sunk into the stone floor and disappeared. He looked around for any of the proffesors or Filch, he niether wanted to see Snape of Filch after being dead for a year.

He walked down the familiar hallways, his mind strained as he was constantly bumping over blanks of memories in his mind, it seems he wasn't completely repaired. His invisible brows furrowed as he tried to make his way towards the Common Room.

Harry wondered why would his personal things be kept in his dorm room. He crushed the rising questions and put them into the back of his mind, paying more attention to not get spotted.

His metal boots landed on the stone floor so gently it was barely heard, the usual clanks coming from the armor were absent. His slouch posture was gone and his back is straightened, giving him an air of nobility and admiration. Each step looked natural and fluent, despite the thick armor. The gray sunlight shined off of the dark surface of his pauldrons and his green eyes dimmed within the helm.

It didn't take long for Harry to reach his former dorm. Now the problem was that he doesen't know the portrait's password and that his pressence will be known. Rip said that Overlords can drain any sort of magic, maybe he could use that to his advantage.

Harry took several steps forward, moving out of his hiding spot. The portrait quickly noticed her new arrival and stared at him quizzically.

"Let me in." Harry was very brief, his voice was deep and muffled because of the garb across his mouth.

"I am afraid that is not possible." the Fat Lady raised her nose defiantly, no matter who it is, she will protect the Gryffindor Common Room.

Harry without warning touched the portrait's frame and slowly started to drain the very force that kept it alive. The Fat Lady started to move ever slower and her voice started to falter. She waved her white dress as a makeshift white flag of surrender.

Harry was glad that the woman wasn't that stubborn to let herself getting killed over nothing. He returned the magic he drained, restoring the picture's voice and movement.

"I hope you end up in Azkaban." the Fat Lady hissed before swinging open, leaving the portrait hole open for intrusion.

The armored teen stepped in and looked around, trying to remember which way was the boy's dorms. Suddenly, Rip's voice echoed within his mind.

_"Sire, umm... I think I must mention something."_

_"What?"_

_"Well,__your__ dorm__ room__ was__ turned__ into__ something __that __resembles__ a__ shrine.__ In__ short, __you __were__ really__ revered,__ by __your__ housemates__ atleast.__ I__ also__ must__ commend __you__ at__ the __method __used__ to__ make__ that __Fat __Lady __listen."_Harry could hear a snicker come from the old minion.

A shrine? Harry didn't know if he should be sickened or happy about it.

He remembered which way is the dorm and moved up the stairs. He counted the numbers of the dorm rooms before finally reaching the familiar door and oppening it.

Harry could feel that many charms have been placed on the entire room, mainly those to stop from everything aging in it. His former bed was turned into a shrine, candles were lit on all sides and his picture was placed on top of his trunk.

It's him after winning his first Quidditch match. Unfortunately, more blanks turned up at the question, he only remembers swallowing the snitch. It bugged him that amost half of his life of memories was gone, but why would he want to remember? They are all filled with suffering.

Harry moved the picture off the trunk and placed it on his bed. He opened the trunk and found that everything is here, just as he left it that day. His hands first made their way to the Invisibility cloak that Sirius gave him. He gazed at it's shimmering surface and found it very small for him to be under.

Suddenly, the knob of the door started to squeal as it was being turned by someone on the other side. Harry quickly put on the cloak and kneeled by one of the sidebeds, managing to cover his entire form.

The person entering the room is a teenager with platinum blonde hair and piercing gray eyes. He approached the shrine and dug into his pockets, looking for something. Harry was surprised to see Draco Malfoy be allowed the enter the Gryffindor Common Room or for being totally ignorant that someone is stalking around in the vicinity . He was also confused why is Malfoy even in Hogwarts for the Christmas Holidays.

_Probably __will__ desecrate __the__ shrine_ Harry thought with a sneer. It was quite the opposite, Draco took out a beautiful locket and gently placed it on the crisp sheets of Harry's bed. Soon after that act of kindness Malfoy quickly ran out, something glinted in the air after him.

It took Harry several moments to recuperate from what just happened. He rushed to see if that locket really is there. Much to his surprise it is.

_"How__touching."_ Rip mocked within Harry's head.

Harry didn't respond, his glowing green eyes were sucking in every detail on the ornamental locket, it's craftsmanship is so delicate and masterful, it must have taken several years to make it.

_"Everything __alright?__ Sire?"_Rip mentally nudged his Master's mind.

_"Yes...__I'm __fine."_ Harry replied finally.

_Why__ would__ Malfoy __do__ something __like__ this?_ Harry ran that question through his mind as he placed the cloak back into the trunk and shrunk it to fit in one of his leather pouches that were strapped to his loincloth. He also absent mindedly took the locket aswell.

After that, he left the room and threathened the Fat Lady if she told anyone that he was here that she won't be moving anymore.

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><p>"Sirius! You down there?" Lupin called from above into a dark hole surrounded with snow.<p>

After several minutes, finally a reply arrived "Is it you, Lupin?"

"Yes it's me! Sirius, we have searched this entire area for a hundrenth time!"

Sirius and Remus were broken after hearing that Harry commited suicide, of course Sirius couldn't believe that his godson would do such a thing. Remus could still catch a faint scent of blood from the hole even after it has been thoroughly cleaned. He and Sirius have searched for Harry the last year now and with no luck. Remus' hope that Harry is still alive faltered on many occasions during the year, thoughts of not seeing his cub anymore sprung up in his mind every now and then. Only Sirius' unwavering devotion to the search kept him going.

"There must be something here." Remus caught Sirius' whisper easily, all the while he shook his head.

"Remus! Don't just stand there! Help me out!" Sirius called from below. Remus reluctantly descended the ladder that Sirius seemed to have set up, the metal scent increased with each step. Several feet later, Remus once again stands in the small hole where Harry fell or "jumped". His eyes quickly adapted to the darkness and could see Sirius have his back turned to him, he seemed to be picking at something.

"What are you doing?" Remus raised a confused eyebrow at his friend.

Sirius waved for him to come look at it. Remus had to push in the middle of the stone wall and Sirius' body before getting a good look.

"See this?" the man pointed at some jagged cracks in the stone.

"Must'eve been an animal. Possibly a wolf, since there is still a scent of blood in here."

"Yes... you are probably right." Sirius sighed in defeat and stood up. He leaned on the stone wall, putting his entire weight upon it. Suddenly, the stone wall was pushed in and fell to the ground with a loud slam.

Remus stared at the strange occurence with wide eyes and he wasn't the only one, Sirius stood with his eyes beginning to sparkle.

"Harry?" Sirius first whispered before making his voice louder. "Harry!" Sirius called and ran into the passage that was revealed.

"Sirius!" Remus tried to catch the wild man's arm but Sirius' was too fast for his reflexes. He shook his head and followed.

Sirius ran forward through the darkness for several minutes, not even noticing that he can't see anything, the only thing he saw is Harry at the end of some tunnel. Remus was close behind him and kept himself calm enough to cast a lumos.

Sirius stopped as he reached the end of the tunnel as it turned left, revealing the turn is a faint orange light from a distant torch. The man's grin intensified after seeing that torch and quickly moved on.

Both men were panting as they entered a strange long hall, sounds of dripping water filled their ears. Seconds later, the dripping noise was accompanied by a sound of someone skittering down on one of the several staircases that spiral out of the side walls. The two men hid behind a wall that hid the entrance from where they came in. In their view entered a strange small creature in fur robes. It stepped infront of a large basin that is far back and waited for something.

Their curiousity was satisfied as a form seemed to materialize just seconds later. The creature stood high in an intimidating black armor, a crowned helm hides the person's face, only glowing green eyes are the visible facial features.

"Where is..." the towering creature tried to ask but was intercepted by the other, smaller, creature.

"He felt ill. I showed him the temporary quarters until we restore your domain to it's old glory."

"Ill? What happened?"

"I haven't told you before, you both are connected to the Heart, but you are currently empty of any magic, thus you are using his reserves for teleportation and other magical uses."

The taller one seemed to contemplate on what has been said and nodded shortly after. It took something out of one of it's leather pouches and gave it to the other.

"Just put this somewhere. So, how are we going to redecorate?" he couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the mention.

"Hmm... we are in need of a crane, to move the heavy debris from the rest of the rooms and staircases."

"A crane? Where can we find a thing such as that here?"

"I recall that there is one in the Room of Requirement." the smaller creature rubbed it's chin thoughtfully.

"Room of Requirement? Ah yes, Dobby told me about it after Hermione and Ron wanted to form Dumbledore's Army."

"Bring some minions with you, Sire. One of the perks is no need to lift things."

The taller one nodded and raised his left hand that sported a large glowing gauntlet. A low booming horn sounded and yells came from one of the staircases that went down. Small brown gremlins flowed out of the opening and stopped in a rank file.

All of that Remus and Sirius watched and not knowing what was happening. Remus gently pulled Sirius' shoulder so they can go the way they came.

Remus and Sirius dragged themselves to the Three Broomsticks and ordered some drinks. They picked a booth and cast a silencing charm for good measure.

"Did you hear that? It must be Harry!" Sirius couldn't help but fidget in his seat.

"Sirius! Did you have a good look at that thing?" Remus stared at his old companion for several moments before continuing "But... Ron and Hermione? Dobby too? I don't know what to make of this." he shrugged.

"I'm telling you! It's Harry! There can be nobody else." Sirius leaned back into his seat.

"We need to tell Dumbledore."

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><p><strong>I was surprised after seeing how much I wrote. Again, thank you guys and now onward to Chapter 3!<strong>


	4. Coming Back

****Sorry for not updating for so long, I kept coming back to this chapter and wrote a few sentences before I just couldn't do anymore. While not a writers block, my mind was constantly thinking about something else. I would appreciate if you offered some suggestions, it would make my writing easier.****

****Poll Results:****

****Evil - 14 votes****

****Good - 2 votes****

****It is clear which won. While Harry won't be totally evil such as Voldie, he will be dark.  
><strong>**

****Disclaimer: I don't own Overlord or Harry Potter. Only my own characters.****

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

Coming Back

Somewhere in the countryside, nearby Hogwarts, is camping a lonely Death Eater. At first, he was enthusiastic about spying for the Dark Lord, but after a while, it just became a pain and started to piss him off, the wilderness isn't for a pureblood! He didn't even understand why is he in the damnable countryside, and since he was banned from using magic since Dumbledore and his cohort would be on his neck almost immediately, he had to resort to chopping wood for his fires and snuggle under a tree for shelter.

"Stupid Hogwarts, stupid Dark Lord..." the Death Eater muttered to himself while stirring the soup in a cauldron, suspended above the fire.

He could hear the snow crunch as something approached his camp, he had his wand at the ready and quickly turned on the spot in an attempt to surprise the visitor. His plan didn't go so well when he himself was surprised, after he turned, his eyes fell upon a large juggernaut standing a few feet away from him Well, it did look large from his sitting position.

"Who are you?" the Death Eater asked, gripping his wand as hard as he could in his pocket, he couldn't believe that someone as large as this snuck so close to him. After getting a better look, he was as tall as it and it didn't looks so large.

The knight didn't respond, only the green glowing eyes housed within the wicked helmet blinked. It moved slowly and unsheated a very large dagger.

It didn't take much incentive for the Death Eater to cast the Killing Curse at the unknown threat. The strange opponent easily dodged the fast bolt despite the bulky armor and moved quite fast since the Eater could barely follow it's movements with his bolts.

Harry enjoyed playing with the scared wizard and with every movement he added one more cut on the black robe. After a while, Harry grew bored of the game and threw the dagger at the Death Eater who was cornered into a tree.

The large blade lodged itself in the thick wood along with the wizard's robe, making the prey's movement highly limited. He stomped over the wizard and appraised the whimpering man.

"Who are you?" the Death Eater whimpered.

Harry leaned towards the man so his lips were just an inch from his ear. The man shivered as the warm breath carresed his earlobe.

"I lived."

Harry could see the man's eyes widen at the realization and quickly reacted as he, in a last act of desperation, shot one more Avada Kedavra. Harry more or less expected that and caught the bolt with his right hand. He drained the vast amount of power in the spell and could feel his metal glove getting searing hot. His magic latched onto the source and slowly drained it, a sensation washed over him very similar to ecstasy, he shivered from the pleasure and felt complete.

He smirked after seeing the man's terrified face, one of the most dangerous curses was stopped in his hand. Harry got control over the curse and swiftly slammed it into the other man's chest before his gauntlet almost melted. The robes ripped from the man's weight and the man fell limp beneath Harry's feet.

"_I see you like to do things clean, sire?" _Rip asked within Harry's mind.

Harry flexed his fist to make sure the armor didn't get damaged too much, he stared at the vapors that left metal as it cooled.

"_I've never liked bloodshed. But, how did I move so fast in this heavy armor? And the sensation..." _Harry responded in confusion to his unnatural speed and the increase in mood.

"_While you might be weak, the magic that flows through you and the armor amplify your strenght and reflexes. It works like that since we don't know what kind of person we would get. About the sensation, it always feels good."_

Harry understood what the minion meant. He glanced around himself and remembered what he was doing here, he was bored. Since home is being redecorated ever since he brought the crane, he went outside to test out his other new powers. He had to admit that this was fun. Harry had to admit that that dank place was far better than the Dursley residence, he wasn't punished and he had some control over his life, finally.

A groan caught Harry's attention and could hear Rip emit a surprised "Ooooohhh" as the Death Eater slowly got himself in a sitting position. It seems he drained a lot of the magic out of the spell and had enough just to stun him. He kneeled infront of the man and cupped his chin with his left hand.

"Be useful and tell Voldemort that I am coming for him." Harry gruffly gave the message and left, leaving the man sit under the tree in a dazed state.

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><p>Harry readied his ears for a torture as he returned to Hogwarts. But much to the young Overlord's relief, the work places have been abandoned and was eeriely silent and devoid of minions.<p>

He could hear a faint drum coming from a staircase that goes down from his right. Maybe that is the reason why all the minions dissapeared?

The young Overlord stomped down and the sound grew stronger and started to follow a rhythm. The stairs ended in a small chamber with pools of different colours. But the brown one was the only one that rose to it's master's presence. Harry concluded that he needed the other hives to be able to summon other types of minions.

The drumming continued and lured Harry to descend additional stairs until he entered a yet another chamber that is simply enormous. The dirt floor and the benches that lined the tall wall told that this is an arena.

Into Harry's view entered the second Overlord who held a violin in his hands and faced an orchestra. The minions are handling the instruments and the one who is playing the drums kept the rhythm. Now the drum started to quicken the pace and others started to silently follow juntil the trumpets issued the start and the Overlord followed the music with his violin. The music was simply amazing, the violin gave it a sad tone and power while a make-shift chorus of minions produced funny noises when they were on, all the while the Overlord perfectly played the small instrument. His form gracefully swayed like he danced with the violin, he was totally engrossed into his playing.

Harry really enjoyed the music and found it very calming. He stared at the man who handled the violin so gently as if it would break if he gripped to hard.

The trumpets started to escalate in power and the chorus started to interfere into the playing until one of the minions went overboard and fell onto the first row and started a domino effect. The minions fell in sequence and the only one standing was the one with the cymbals smashing them together.

Harry heared a hearty laugh leave the Overlord and couldn't help but laugh aswell to the funny clumsiness of the minions. The Overlord turned to his laugh and made his way towards him.

"I didn't know you were into music." Harry said, slight amazement laced his voice.

"Looks can be deceiving, boy." the Overlord responed and called Harry in very similar manner how a very hated uncle used to call him, boy.

"You don't need to be an asshole, you know." Harry didn't like how he was addresed and retorted back. The Overlord stopped for a second before ascending the stairs.

"My name is Harry by the way."

"Rex, now, did you need something?" Rex sighed in annoyance at the youth.

"Why are you like that?" Harry asked. Rex couldn't understand how could someone this childish wear such threathening armor.

"Like what?"

"That!"

Rex eyed the annoyance and couldn't help but be reminded of Rose, she used to be like this until they got to know each other better. That reminded him how he missed Rose; that crushed his already wavering good mood and he retreated to the temporary quarters Rip showed him, leaving the teen staring at his back in indignation.

"A little domestic missunderstanding, hmm?" Rip walked over with a smirk.

Harry sighed and sat on the still ruined throne. He always wondered why he always got back to sitting in it when his back hurt like a bitch after.

He couldn't figure out why is the man so closed up, even Snape wasn't that closed off. Oh, yes Harry figured Severus Snape out last year, only a glimpse at the man's memories gave him enough to read him like an open book. Most of them were how James, his late father, bullied him all the time.

"I don't get him." Harry responded.

"Master, he has his reasons. When you saw him playing was when he opened himself up. I must remind you, Overlords aren't just people that enjoy carnage and destruction." Rip wisely spoke while keeping an eye out at a minion who was dangerously walking under a piece of pillar suspended above him.

Rip held his gaze before pressing other more important matters; the reclaiming of Hogwarts, "Sire, I think our next step should be to taking over Hogwarts?"

"Well, I guess it's time to pay a visit to good O'l Dumbledore." Harry smirked within his helmet.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore was just ready to pop another lemon drop into his mouth after finished eating lunch in the Great Hall when a silent alarm went off. The old wizard looked at a mirror he used to watch over new visitors and such. He gasped when he saw a heavily armored being approaching moving towards the Great Hall gate.<p>

The tow large doors swung open as something pushed them aside. The students turned their heads to see what interrupted their meal and several of them went pale at what they saw.

Dark smoke rose from the intimidating creature that is clad in heavy armor. The ragged cloak and loincloth looked like a mix of medival knight and a barbarian.

"Dumbledore!" it called as it made it's way towards the teacher's table. Despite the heavy armor, it almost seemingly glided with each step and held it's posture high.

Harry looked around the terrified student's, he could smell fear; and amonia for that matter when passing by first-years. His gaze wandered over the confused teachers and found Remus and Sirius sitting on the far left side of the teacher's table. He didn't expect them to be here, this interfered with his plans along with his emotions. The urge to just strip away this noble posture and to throw himself at his God-fathers was hard to control, but Harry managed. After glarring at Sirius for a second, he saw the man's eyes twinkle maddeningly.

Harry noticed all those things in just the few seconds it took him to arrive at the table and is now standing before the old Headmaster. He was going to enjoy this.

"Dumbledore... How long has it been?"

Harry saw that Dumbledore didn't really understand what he was talking about but it didn't matter.

"Ah, yes. A year. You could say four years if you count tortures during the summer.

Do you remember the Boy?"

Dumbledore stared into the glowing green eyes. It was certainly a mix of emotions but the strange darkness that permits the helmet made it hard to see.

"The boy-who-lived. The destroyer of Voldemort, one of the greatest Dark Lords in history? He was tortured by his own relatives, and still he fended off each and one of Voldemort's attempts to return and kill him. And then came the day, when that stupid tournament started. A few months after Voldemort is revived and they call the boy insane! He may have shrugged off the other menacing lies that THE PEOPLE who DEPEND on him spreaded. But after that; he wasn't the same, didn't he? Oh, by far!" Harry was now turning towards the students.

"His mind was shattered, broken. A deep deppression set in and his own life suffered for it! His two best friends neglected his deterioating state by the order of this PATHETIC man that I stand before. They just shrugged it off; Harry will be okay, he is always okay! I doubt that you people have even seen him as a human! He was just your savior! It was his duty that he saves all of your heads!" Harry accused and pointed at everyone in the room.

"There is no doubt that some of you find his last action an action of a coward. Believe me, you weaklings would have slit your own throats just the first year if you were facing what he had to! Neglect! Lask of respect! NO love! And you expect for a normal human being to function. For this I will bring fire and brimstone to your wretched lives and pull you through everything that he has faced and endured! All will be equal only then when they suffer!" Harry finished his speech. His eyes were almost overflowing with tears. He just now let out all his anger and hatred. His ears buzzed as the silence settled in after his echo left the Hall.

In a response to the speech, all the teachers stood up and pointed their wands at the seemingly rambling intruder.

"Fire... brimstone... That will be your fate old man." Harry smirked towards Dumbledore before unsheating the dagger he has grown a bit fond off and felt himself barraged by stunning spells. HE didn't resist to keep his conciousness and let himself fall on the floor with a heavy thud.

"_I hope you know what you are doing." _Rip said. _"He is a boy, he doesen't know what he's doing."_ Rex's voice cut in before Harry completely fell.

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><p>Harry found that his sleep was dreamless, he didn't know why but he didn't find an issue about it. He noted to ask Rip about it later. Now he had to focus where dear Dumbledore restrained him.<p>

His emerald eyes scanned the surroundings; he is chained to a wall and the dark walls were easily recognized as the dungeons. To be accurate it was the potion's classroom. Harry snickered as Snape must have been very pissed off to be using his classroom as a prison.

Shortly after Snape entered the room and his face showed that he wasn't pleased. Soon he was followed by Minerva and Dumbledore right behind. Snape took out a small vial and moved away the cloth that covers Harry's mouth and poured it in. Harry could see the slight confusion as he didn't resist. Harry knew it was Veritaserum but didn't say anything.

"What is your name?" Dumbledore asked, although he already knew who he is.

"I have no name." Harry blurted out due to the truth serum. To be honest, the boy didn't know that he really thought like that.

"Severus, can you please." Dumbledore asked and Snape nodded. He grasped the helmet and removed it. Minerva started crying after seeing that Harry's face was hiding under the darkness. His pale skin hasn't seen light in a long time but the green eyes shone with power.

"Potter! Stop joking around! What was that speech about!" Snape was losing his patience with the boy; the nerve he has he has been gone for an entire year and now appears in their Great Hall and rambles nonesense, he also has to check that Veritaserum.

"Severus... I wasn't joking. Those were my true feelings." Harry indifferently said that.

What he said only made Minerva cry even more and Dumbledore soothingly rubbed her back.

"Severus..." Dumbledore barely whispered and Snape again nodded and led the crying woman out of the room.

Dumbledore sighed and took one of the chairs and sat down, "What has happened to you, Harry?"

"I repeat, I have no name. I expected something better from you, Dumbledore. Voldemort would have treated me better." Harry said his honest feelings to the man, pain flashed on Dumbledore's face.

"Where have you been all this time?"

"Rip found me and took care of me, he made me stronger." Harry responded and he softly touched the chain with his finger and it burned away. He flexed his wrist as it started to hurt.

"Who is Rip?" Dumbledore asked, he knew the boy wouldn't hurt him right now.

"A minion. My personal advisor since I am his Overlord." Dumbledore felt guilty that he forced the boy to be so truthfull but he had to know.

"I am so sorry..." he hid his face with his hands. He couldn't bare the look Harry was giving him. Suddenly Sirius barged in with Remus trying to hold him back.

"It's him! Oh, Harry!" Sirius fell on his knees in relief to see his godson.

Harry honestly smiled at the two men and hugged Sirius with his free arm. After a full minute of hugging Sirius backed off and stared into the green eyes.

"What were you talking about back there?"

"I told the truth." Harry promptly responded and hugged Remus.

"You didn't mean it, did you?" Both Remus and Sirius asked.

Sirius and Remus were the only people from his life that he truly cared about and didn't want to hurt them but the serum forced him.

"I did." Harry slightly lowered his head.

"Sirius, he is teeling the truth, we gave him the serum." Dumbledore responded from behind.

Sirius went desperate and held onto Harry's head while constantly muttering, "No...no... It can't be."

Remus tried to get the man into his embrace and patted his head, "It's fine, love. Shhh." he dragged Sirius out of the room and Dumbledore sighed before standing up, casting several binds on Harry before leaving aswell.

"It will happen, Dumbledore." Harry called out. He will bring the magical world to his knees and nothing will stop his march of vengeance.

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><p><strong>Again, I am open to suggestions and any would be welcome. My imagination could use a bit of motivation.<strong>** I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	5. A New Family

**Hello guys! I was on the roll from last night and wrote this baby up in no time. I don't know if it seems rushed but if it is, I apologize. This is somewhat a base to which I might set Harry up with Rex, I will put up a poll to see what you guys think.**

****Disclaimer: I don't own Overlord or Harry Potter. Only my own characters.****

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><p>Chapter 4<p>

A Family is Formed

"_You are all the talk around the school, you really shook it's foundation." _Rip sniggered, he enjoyed seeing the terrified and pale faces of the students.

"_Please don't tell me that I will have to break you out just because you wanted to see the look on that old man's face." _Rex hoped that the boy wasn't that childish.

"_C'mon, Rex, I can't believe that I would let myself captured for such a measly reason? Looks can be decieving." _Harry smirked and could hear Rex groan.

"_And what is your next move, sire?"_ Rip asked. He wasn't sure what his young master was doing but he understood that he used his former identity to escape harm.

"_You will see."_ the young Overlord responded and drained the binds of their magic until he felt it crumble. He twitched from the pleasure as he stood up and flexed his sore body as it felt better with an infusion of magic. After Snape removed his helmet, Harry was wondering how much has his face change. After he found the classroom empty of any reflective surface, he managed to conjure a small mirror. His face was pale and his eyes looked like they were emeralds etched into moonstone. His cheekbones were slightly shallow and his hair was a long black with white highlights. Despite his youthfull look, Harry felt quite old.

The amount of experience and pain he endured made him wise beyond his age and form. He has seen his blood more than anyone else. The more he thought about this, the more frustrated he was becoming.

"I have to stop thinking about this!" he scolded himself and shattered the mirror against the table.

He could hear now a lot of movement outside and has realized that he has been making a lot of noise. Harry berated himself for being so careless and sat down on the teacher's table and waited for his supposed guard to come in. The table croaked and Harry refrained from siting so it wouldn't break from his weight.

The teen wasn't surprised to see Snape enter with a wand ready in his hand. Of course it would be him, nobody else really cared about his classroom and office as much as he did.

Snape's mask was broken and let a confused expression slip his control before it fell back into place. "How did you get out of your binds, Potter?" he snapped.

"It's a long story and I have a revenge to enact upon a certain Headmaster. So, move." Harry simply stated and wrapped the garb around his mouth and returned the helmet to it's rightfull place.

"I am afraid you will not be going anywhere." the potion's master growled, his grip tensed.

"What was your nickname again? Greasy git was it? I'm sorry if I'm wrong, my head is a bit messed up after it hit a stone floor from a 10 foot fall."

"What are you playing at?" Snape's growl got even more louder.

Harry dashed to him and grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him up. Because of the suddenes, Snape's wand fell out of his grip and onto the floor. "Don't growl at me like an animal, Severus." he hissed. He inspected the man and saw that he didn't change at all, same smell, same outfit, same everything.

"You know, you are more handsome than you think, Snape. If you washed your hair sometimes you would just be a git, and actually have some students running after you, although you would find them as nuisances. I do not hold a grudge against you and your actions, I remember how James berated you and that you had to act like it to spy on Voldemort. I actually fell in love with you at some point..." Harry spoke softly. It was only fair to come out clean about his past life, he isn't that anymore.

"_For the love of!" _Rex groaned, _"We don't have to listen to your feelings..."_

"_Then don't." _Harry again smirked.

He slowly put down the man who held onto his arm. He stared the man right in the onyx. "You are a man of principle, I respect that but if you get in my way, I will not hesistate to kill you on the spot. The least I can do is make your death painless if it comes to it." Harry finished and walked besides the man towards the stairs.

"I never thought that you would be this unforgiving." Snape retorted, he had to have the last word.

Harry stopped in his tracks at the declaration. He spoke with a bit of anger in his voice, "Unforgiving? I forgave and forgave. I didn't act on my torture, because I forgave the Dursleys. That is what a naïve and hopefull principles I held onto so desperately. I should have listened to the pain and acted, but I didn't."

With that, Harry left. With a move of his hand he closed the door and shortly after he heard shouts of anger and resentement, more directd towards himself than him.

The absence of students in the halls told Harry that the classes are in session so most of the teachers must be in their classrooms. He passed the Transfiguration classroom and heard Minerva trying to calm down the students, her voice betrayed her as tears were threathening to fall. The numerous suits of armor held the large halberds in their hands and Harry took one for good measure.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore looked at the two broken men sitting infront of him. Sirius didn't stop crying ever since Harry admited that he meant all that he said. Remus was barely keeping himself from breaking down, the only reason is that he had to comfort his husband. Yes, Sirius and Remus married last year, giving some light to the dark days of the aftermath. Dumbledore was very happy for them both.<p>

"Calm down, Pad..." Remus held the man close to his chest who in turn burrowed depper with his nose, seeking comfort. Remus sent a look of pleading towards Dumbledore who couldn't reply with only a sad nod.

But the old wizard couldn't help that he felt something missing, he couldn't point it out. He remembered what they were when Severus floed into the office with his face obviously disturbed. Harry.

"Potter has broken through his restraints and is coming for you, Headmaster." Snape warned but it was too late as Dumbledore saw Harry blasting off the gargolye that hides the staircase with a fireball in the mirror he summoned, yet another demonstration of his unknown power.

Sirius stopped crying and looked at the men's worried faces. Suddenly the door behind them was broken and fell of it's hinges. In the doorstep stands the intimidating figure of Harry Potter and his green eyes glew with revenge. The large halberd was nailed into the wooden floor and stood firmly.

Harry took a few steps forward before Snape stepped infront of him.

"Severus, get out of my way... I don't want to hurt you." Harry hissed from within his helmet. Seeing that the man made no effort to move aside, he took matters into his own hands and grabbed the man by the throat and threw him to the side into the wall.

Then Sirius stood infront of him and barred passage. He couldn't hurt Siri, he was his only family member he remembered fondly and didn't wish to hurt him.

"Sirius for the love of your husband, step aside." Harry knew that the two men were married, he saw the rings when he was in the dungeon.

"Harry you don't want to do this!" Sirius pleaded.

"This is the thing I wanted to do ever since I woke up! Now! MOVE!" Harry shouted and pushed Sirius out of the way with his left hand. His sight of the old man he hated so much now clear, he decided that it's best to first disarm him, "Expeliarmus!" he exclaimed when Dumbledore fired a stunning spell. The rays from wand and hand collided and sparks flew all around the colliding point. Harry forced all the magic he has in his reserve and easily overpowered the old wizard and sent his wand flying far back. He prepared in his hands two fireballs, ready to scorch the man beyond recognition.

"_Watch out, mas-" _ Rip's voice echoed a warning in his mind but too late.

Suddenly pain, a stinging pain that ripped through his muscles and into his throat, "Ah!" Harry cried in pain.

He looked to his side and found the halberd lodged in his side; blood thickly flowed down the blade and stained the blue carpet.

"Sectum Sempra!" Snape exclaimed from behind Harry and looked as the sparks that flew as the spell's blades collided with the metal. Soon after blood started to flow from between the metal scales on his back.

His concentration broken, Harry couldn't cast the spells and he started to whimper. "Why! Why didn't you do something! I needed you and you betrayed me!" Harry cried as he fell to his knees and sobbed, the pain made him lose control over his emotions and started crying eratically. Sirius, Remus, Snape and Dumbledore watched as the intimidating and powerful juggernaut was swiftly reduced to a whimpering child that only lacked love.

Sirius and Remus rushed towards the crying teen and hugged him despite the cold metal exterior Snape stared in confusion until he felt a swift jab to the neck and lost consciousness. Dumbledore tried to warn him but was too late as yet another armored being appeared but it was far larger than Harry.

"Get away from him!" the knight shouted and roughly pushed away Remus and Sirius from Harry and picked him up. Harry has already stopped crying and fell limp in the being's hands who glanced at them all before leaving down the stairs, they could hear him mutter, "Foolish boy..."

* * *

><p>"I wonder how will this turn out." Rip said as he nibbled a roasted chicken leg, he has gotten hungry from the drama that unfolded in the basin. Rex crossed his arms at the youth's theatrics but remained to see how will everything unfold. Harry has just passed by a classroom and stood by it for a whle to listen, a woman's voice that resembled the one from the last time sounded like she was just about to cry. After that, Harry took a halberd and Rex smiled to see some carnage.<p>

Rex laughed by the straight forward approach when Harry reached the gargolye. The man had to be honest that he would do the same thing. Now the suspense was building up, they saw that Snape character wanr Dumbledore about Harry coming until the former sent a door off it's hinges. Rex frowned when the young Overlord nailed the halberd to the floor, he was a clean guy when it came to violence it seemed. He again laughed after seeing Snape's frightened face and when his body hit the wall.

The family relations wasn't as that mucmh fun but the husband comment slightly confused Rex, he guessed that in this universe they had sae-sex marriages? The duel was uneventfull, Rex preferred a melee duel with swords, he was a bit more personal in those kinds of things.

"Watch out, mas-" Rip tried to warn as the Snape character took the halberd and swiped with it and hit Harry's side. Rex slightly winced as the weapon remained lodged in the flesh and blood started to profoundedly flow out of it.

Rex quickly turned towards Rip and commanded, "Find me the nearest waygate!"

Rip did as he was commanded and found one right at the hall where the staircase is. Rex commanded the basin to teleport him there and vanished.

He almost stumbled after getting out from the portal and shook his head to recover his navigational senses back. He found the destroyed gargolye and rand as fast as he could. _You won't die! You wont't die on me! _Those thoughts raged in Rex's mind as his lungs burned oxygen from his sprint. He took two steps at a time and reached the office. He saw that Dumbledore saw him and quickly incapacitated Snape.

"Get away from him!" Rex commanded and pushed the two men that were trying to calm Harry down. He scooped up the whimpering and bloody mess of a man off the floor and ran down the stairs.

"Stupid boy! He could have gotten us both killed!" Rex slammed his hand against the stone throne he sat on since it's the only available chair in the whole area, Harry was layed down in the bed in the temporary quarters.

"We should have told him." Rip said calmly. But he was very scared that the boy would die. He didn't want to wait for a new Overlord.

"Of course we should have told him! I could feel the Heart starting to suck the very life out of me!" Rex clenched his teeth, the sensation was all but comfortable, it felt like his veins burned from magic and life being sucked out of him. And since the stupid boy is still in that broken state the sensation pulsed in him with every breath.

"I suggest you go help him."

Rex sighed and stood up, he rubbed his back as it hurt from the hard throne. He loudly entered the room and sat down on the floor by the frail body of the boy. They removed the armor and revealed a lithe young body worthy of admiring. He took the pale hand into his own and deeply connected to the heart to use the magic supply and heal the deep wounds. Rex saw the gaping wound in Harry's side that was roughly bandaged to slowly knit itself and soon disappear. He relaxed when the painful sensation leave his body, the boy was finally stable. He poured more magic to heal some of the slashes on his back that managed to penetrate through the armor.

Rex was utterly annoyed by the stupid actions the boy took, but he didn't think that things could go so wrong in so little time. He knew that the reason he wanted to save the boy were because of himself but it somehow felt when he claimed that to himself that it wasn't totally true. He looked at the sleeping teen's face and wondered what was going through his mind when that halberd sliced him, what did it start in his brain to reduce him to such a state.

He suspected that Harry wouldn't tell him even if he asked. Why did he think about the boy so much? Even he didn't know.

"I saw his memories, sire. If you heard his speech, you could conclude that he was neglected and tortured for many years. He was shown no love, nothing. I can only confirm that it all happened and even my mind couldn't stand another vision." Rip waddled towards the two men and stared at the now peaceful form of one of his masters.

"We are his only family now."

Rex couldn't help but nod.

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><p><strong>This one is a bit short but I think I wrote what I wanted. 2.5 k.<br>**

**The next chapters will have Rex in the leading role a bit and focus more on him, he needs a bit of spotlight aswell. Some parts will focus on Harry's psyche just to give you guys a heads up. Again, I thank you for reading, review and don't be afraid to make a suggestion! Love you guys!**


	6. Bonding

****I apologize for not updating for so long, my mood for writing wasn't so big the last month. I decided to finish this chapter when I wrote it half-way the month ago. Again I apologize, Hope this one is good as the others. Good reading and R&R!****

****Disclaimer: I don't own Overlord or Harry Potter. Only my own characters.****

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><p>Chapter 5<p>

Bonding

"I-I..." Ron tried to make words after he somewhat regained himself from the speech that knight had. He only snapped fully after hearing Hermione cry in her hands. They barely got over Harry's death; Hermione still blames herself for being so uncaring towards their friend and their relationship was tensed to it's limit. But Ron managed to keep himself together for Hermione, if he went down aswell that would become a neverending cycle of pain and sorrow for the both of them.

He wrapped his hands around the crying girl, her body was wracked by sobs, and it took him some time to get a good hold of her. Ron could hear her mutter self-insults to herself and softly whispered anything that came to his head to calm her down.

"It's okay...everything is okay." Ron all the while observed how the knight was being floated away by a very pissed off McGonagall from the Great Hall.

Even though he is a thick-headed person, he couldn't help but totally agree with the intruder; Dumbledore didn't act upon what he was told, they knew that something was wrong everytime Harry went to the Dursleys for the summer but he couldn't believe that something like that was happening. Harry pleaded that he remains in Hogwarts but Dumbledore always politely denied and said that he is more safer there; what irony. Also they totally forgot about him when he and Hermione hooked up. He beated himself for it an entire year until finally he and Mione got somewhat over the death. Hermione had a serious breakdown on Harry's birthday and that was one of the worst breakdowns. She didn't want to eat for an entire week and locked herself in her room, not wanting anyone, not even Ron. Their lives weren't the same without the cheery Boy-Who-Lived.

"What was that all about?" Seamus suddenly asked but only got weak nods and saddened faces.

Ron noticed something strange at the Slytherin table as the two other houses opened a good view from their table to the other. Draco sat there, frozen in a stoic position but his calm demanour and expression felt as if it was made of ice. It unnerved Ron to so easily see the git's emotions, he wasn't so blunt and ignorant as last year, Harry's death forced him to mature; for his and Hermione's sake.

With a last glance he redirected his focus on the girl in his arms that has stopped crying but is still sniffing into his shirt.

"He is right, Ron." Hermione suddenly said, slightly muffled by speaking into Ron's chest.

"Yes...I know." Ron sadly sighed and ran his hand down the girl's hair. "We need to find out who that was."

Hermione sat upright and firmly said, "You took the words right out of my mouth." her eyes were still puffy and wet and it looked sadly comical. Ron smiled as his girl recovered slightly.

Suddenly a girl started screaming. Ron and Hermione knew that it was Ginny. They saw the girl run out of the Hall and Ron soon followed and gave Hermione a sad glance.

Hermione nodded and rubbed the remaining tears away.

* * *

><p>"What the hell were you thinking?" Sirius yelled while Remus tried to hold him back from the still dazed potions master.<p>

"Oh shut up, mut!" Severus snapped and sat down into one of the overstuffed chairs, his head was throbbing. A yelling Black was all that he needed right now.

"Silence!" Dumbledore angrily rose to his feet and the men turned towards the old wizard. "This is not the time to fight each other!"

"Potter lives, and he is out to kill you, may I ask why?" Snape asked while rubbing his temples.

"Harry is out for revenge. I am saddned to acknowledge that but that is what it is." Dumbledore resignedly sighed.

"That can't be!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Face it, mut, your precious godson is gone."

Sirius lost control and pounced at the other man like an animal. He managed to give him a few good ones before Remus stunned his rampaging husband and called for madame Pomfrey. Dumbledore sighed again as they levitated both Sirius and Severus out of the office. For some reason Remus didn't follow and remained.

"Will you not watch over your husband?"

Remus turned and sat down. "We know where Harry is."

Dumbledore's eyebrow rose, "You know where he is?"

"Yes, he is somewhere under Hogwarts, but I don't know where to be exact. There was a tunnel at the spot where he-" the werewolf stopped abruptly and Dumbledore nodded.

"I am afraid of what will happen when we arrive there. He is unstable, I can't even imagine what must be going through his head."

* * *

><p>"Where am I?"Harry's voice echoed throughout a white blank vastness of space. He found himself floating and naked. His body was striped with strange silver lines that looked like tattoos on his skin. They pulsed with power and softly shined.<p>

"You are here, and nowhere." a deep tenor boomed through his body as if the owner was a large speaker.

"Why am I naked?" Harry didn't really find being naked while floating mid-air and talking to some person who was speaking nonesense very comfortable.

"You can wear clothes if you want to." the voice simply said. "It would be appreciated" Harry said and a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt formed on his person.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Arthur, King Arthur."

"_THE_ Arthur? With Excalibur?" the teen asked in disbelief. It was ridiculous to be speaking to King Arthur when he is dead, he knew that he lived but to talk to him?

"In the flesh." the voice finaly came from a direction; it came from a large knight that highly resembled Rex. His blue eyes seemed far softer than Rex's aswell. The armor greatly differed from Rex's or his; it looked like it was made out of silver and it glew with a dim light.

Arthur floated to the small teen and stopped only a foot from Harry. "I am glad to see my next descendant, it has been a few centuries since I talked to the last Overlord.

"You were an Overlord?"

"I was the first. Merlin...what an Overlord I was back in the day. While I do differ from the more recent ones, I wasn't such a 'goodly' kind of person either. How's Rip doing?"

"Rip is doing fine, although he is a strange minion. But they say that you were great and good _king_." Harry emphasised on the 'king' part.

Arthur chuckled, the kid was much brighter than he thought, "Merlie decided to spruce up history a bit. I was a good and fair _Overlord_. But we should focus about why _you_ are doing here. Overlords only consult with me when they have been in severe distress."

"I..." Harry cringed after his memories flashed to him, he remembered how he held that speech in the Great Hall then being stunned. Then the memory jumped to the point where he was ready to burn Dumbledore to cinders. And then the intense pain washed over him and wracked his body.

"I see...don't think about it, it will only make it worse. Let me map you." Arthur responded and waved with his hands several times when all of a sudden eight figures appeared in a row beside Harry.

They were Dumbledore, Lily Potter, James Potter, Sirius, Remus, Rex, Ron, Hermione and another that resembled Harry.

"These are your virtues, faults and all things that make you that are in need of checking up. You mind outside is in shambles, Harry. You need to fix it."

Harry stared at the row but he still didn't quite understand. Arthur clearly saw his confusion and floated along with Harry by the long row and briefly stopped at each.

"Dumbledore, he is good. See the broken look on him? That means that you are leaning towards evil. That is expected."

They floated over to Harry's mother. She looked a bit youthfull but was somewhat sad. "Your mother, she is love. While your loving capability is still strong, but it misses the most important part; loved ones. It could be mended with a lot of weak bonds such as friends or a much stronger bond such as a lover."

Then they floated to Harry's father. He boasts a large chest full of strength and power but the look in his eyes shows fear and lack of confidence in his abilities

"Your father, he is courage. Your courage is strong as it always has but you've lost your faith in it and that has led you to your attempt of suicide."

Harry slightly cringed after Arthur said that. They floated over to Sirius. The cheery man felt disconnected and highly depressed.

"Sirius, happiness. It has been ultimately decimated over the years of constant torture, every smile you gave your former friends was a strained one and false."

Harry always tried his best to not keep his friends for worrying, he felt guilty for everything else, he wouldn't stand to have them worry and fret over him.

Next was Remus, his face was hostile and looked very unbecoming of the man and held a sinister posture.

"Remus, loyalty. The hostile look on his face and posture lead that you have lost all loyalty to all the people you knew. Except a few but that isn't enough."

Harry knew what Arthur meant by that, he only felt loyal to Sirius and Remus. Ron and Hermione betrayed him and have become nothing to him but scum. He still couldn't believe how they could betray him like that.

Rex was next on the list. As always, the large knight held himself proudly and had a menacing glint in his red glowing eyes.

"Rex, evil. The sheer power the man demonstrates clearly says that you lean towards the evil side of the two. But I can see that evil is not what is strong in this vision. It seems to be how you really see him, powerful and proud and for some reason quite fond of him."

The teen beside Arthur slightly choked at it and quickly retaliated, "You are wrong, I find the git annoying."

Arthur only nodded and floated over to Ron. Harry sneered at the red head. A cocky grin graced that damned teen's face.

"Ron, ignorance. You are very ignorant to a lot of things but that will quickly receede if you increase the next aspect."

Harry nodded and followed Arthur to Hermione. He didn't totally hate Hermione but found it hard to trust her. She looked very frustrated and her hair is in disarray

"Hermione, knowledge. You still have much to learn, but you are an intelligent and you will learn."

Harry smiled at the commendation and floated over to a replica of himself. While the face was his it is missing some of the features that make his face what it is.

"And finally, you, identity. Due to major blood loss and lack of air, your brain has lost a lot of your memories and has almost entirely rejected what made you call yourself Harry." Arthur faced the teen leveled to be on Harry's eye-level. "You no longer consider yourself Harry, do you?"

The teen nodded in agreement. He realized that when he said it under the veritaserum. His memories have been filled with pain and he was glad that a lot of it was gone forever, a new life.

"A new life deserves a new name, does it not?"

"My name... My name is...Havoc." Havoc nodded smilingly at his new name. He liked it very much. Arthur chuckled and ruffled his hair. "It fits you." He noticed all the aspects somewhat improve. "Just keep going like this. Now, my job is done and I think you should wake up."

"Wait, I want to know more about the Overlords." Havoc gripped onto the the knight's hand, not letting him to float away.

"Well...you body does need more rest so, okay."

Havoc only cheered and followed the knight into a thick white mist.

* * *

><p>"Rex, why can't you rest a bit?"<p>

"Being an Overlord is a busy life. My domain won't run itself."

"Let Gnarl take care of it...you could use a vacation."

"I don't know, Rose. Damn...I can't resist that look. Alright." Rex sighed as he held on his mistress' hand and slowly danced among the pillars entwined in roses. Rex couldn't recognize this as a memory, reality or just a dream; it was all so sureal. He brought Rose closer to him and enjoyed the warmth the woman spread through his thick metal shell. He didn't know how Rose did it but it worked.

"Rex?"

"What, dear?"

"Where did you go?" Rose asked while having her head placed on his chest.

"What do you mean?" Rex asked and could feel a ball form in his throat, it felt like pain.

"You went through that portal and never came back."

Rex softly pulled away to get a look on his mistress' face. It looked aged with worry and fear, with each blink she grew older and Rex began to understand what this was: a nightmare. Rex never had nightmares, that he knew of. His days of being a hero were gone on that day when he fell off the tower along with the Overlord and his childhood laong with it.

He cupped his wife's face in his hands and was afraid to blink. Rose looked at him with sad eyes and Rex struggled not to blink. His eyes itched and watered it's protests.

"I am here, I was never gone..." he whispered and held onto his wife's visage. He knew that he couldn't hold on to her forever. He will either wake up or slowly and painfully blink her away.

"Why didn't you come back?" Rose asked and her voice was slowly betraying her with age. Rex only pressed his finger against her lips and hugged her closely.

Soon after Rex felt the body against him fall limp. He knew that she has come to a point that she can't even support her self.

Then the weight on him disappeared and his hands were empty, Rose was gone. He frantically looked around himself as the scenery started to shift. The marble floor turned into dirt covered in grass, surrounding walls were replaced with large stone block walls with battlements - Castle Spree.

Rex looked infront of him and saw the tombstone reading:

**Here lies Rose of Castle Spree. Wife and mistress of Overlord and mother of Overlad. May she rest in peace.**

**She was a good wench.**

Rex fell on his knees and gripped the stone, trying hard not to cry. He knew that he was only trying to ease the impact of losing a loved one by changing the scenery but it wasn't helping as memories of what happened to the land he once ruled over. It was turned into a wasteland full of rampant magic, turning everything into monsters and corrupting everything it touched.

It was hard to actually see that EVERYTHING he knew was gone.

A thundering rumble reached his ears and made him rise ot his feet and observe the Dark Tower far off in the distance, surrounded by large stone spikes and the neighbouring villages. It's windows were letting through intense light. Shortly after the tower was burst open by a large explosion and a shockwave followed after it that swept up everything below.

The wind whipped against the countryside; trees were torn from the very ground, the strong stone walls were sent flying under the force. Rex stood there and only felt a breeze against his skin and stared at the purple mass that was overflowing from the tower and covering everything in it's path.

"Why are you crying? Rex?" a soft voice flew by Rex along with the breeze and forced him out of the nightmare.

His eyes shot open and felt beads of sweat roll down his forehead. His cheeks felt wet. It took him awhile to realise that a hand was wiping the wet drops that were tears from his face. Rex shoved the hand away from his face and stared into the dark beside him.

A lithe body was turned towards him, stripes of soft white light illuminated it's movements. The boy was on his side and is facing him, the glowing eyes were staring intently at him as his arm returned to his side. The other hand was still in his and for some reason he gripped even more tightly as he slightly shook.

"Rex?" the boy worriedly asked and continued to stare at the stunned knight.

Rex's head fell onto his hands, he felt angry, disgusted, ashamed. Nobody has seen him like this. Nobody! It was a disgrace. He desperately wanted to storm off through the door and put this behind him but it was clear that he had a serious problem and needed help; but he was too proudful to even think of it for a second.

He felt something warm make circles on his back, he tensed at the familiar feeling and tried to move but couldn't. It greatly disturbed him - only Rose could 'touch' him through the armor. He wanted to deny the fact the the only person that is in the room and now comforting him was that blasted boy. His opinion of himself became even more disgusting and hateful.

"How long have you been staring at me like that?" he finally broke the silence.

"I woke up just a few minutes ago, your grunts and, sometimes, sobs woke me up."

Rex sighed and refused to face the boy that was now moving closer to him. He felt the small body press flush against his side and two arms enveloped his haunched form, somewhat.

"You don't have to be closed off, you know." Havoc spoke, "It will only make it worse, plus, it annoys me." he chuckled.

"Why are you doing this?" Rex spoke, his voice laced with disdain and anger. Havoc understood that it was meant for himself and not him, he frowned.

"Because you are the only one I know, currently. Well Rip too but...you know."

"What about the others?"

"Others?" Havoc had to think a bit to realize what Rex meant, "Those bastards, as if I could find any companionship from them." he spat. "Besides, you ain't so bad as company."

The two were like that for a few minutes before finally Rex stood upright, but still refused to meet Havoc's eyes.

"I have to go." Rex simply said and started to stand up but stopped as the boy slid onto his lap. He growled at the insolent teen and got a delighted smirk in return.

"No, you don't. Thank you."

Rex faced the teen because of the sudden gratitude. A bright smile lit up on his face, "For saving me."

Rex nodded and started to speak but a finger was pressed onto his lips, "I know, you would have died if I died. Arthur explained it all to me. But you didn't do it just because of you, did you?" Havoc smiled at the again stunned knight.

"I haven't seen a more insolent brat like you in my entire life...I...I understand what happened to you, my son went through it aswell. Rip only told me bits and pieces but it was enough to understand. I constantly wished that I could be there for him when he was bullied or called a freak." Rex said and sighed. He was now holding the teen in his lap and simply enjoyed the serenity and warmth he provided. Times like these were few when he was ruling over the land, he cherished each time more than the last.

A low rumble interrupted the quiet and the boy in his lap slightly moved.

"Hungry? You haven't eaten in days."

"Really? Hmm..." Havoc curiously replied and got off of Rex and put on the clothes he wore on that 'faithful' day and followed the towering knight out of the room. He cringed at the sudden light but his eyes quickly adapted.

"Ah! Sire, you are awake, and well, I hope." Rip appeared out of nowhere by Havoc's side and looked very pleased.

"Rip! And what happened that made you so happy?" Havoc greeted.

"We've found one of the minion hives, Sires. The reds are in the kitchens."

Rex groaned and sat down on the throne. Havoc's stomach grumbled again and Rip called for food before continuing, "You don't have to worry, the house elves are loyal to the Overlord so they will gladly move the hive here." Rip smiled. Rex clearly sighed in relief, he wasn't really up to attacking the blasted castle and drag the hive all the way back, or going through any kitchens, he had enough by going through the halfling ones.

"We should really install a second throne." Rip added.

"You mentioned someone by the name of Arthur?" Rex inquired.

Havoc piped up at the mention, "Oh yes, King Arthur. He says hi, Rip. He helped me out and I got a new name!" he happily said.

"Well, that calls for a celebration, does it not?" Rip smiled and ordered for the minions to bring out a table and a feast.

Havoc grinned, he felt quite happy and content with the people he was with. He gladly forgot what happened to him the last day and dug into the wide assortment of food.

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><p><strong>The Ron and Hermione part happened right after Harry was stunned. Everything else is after. Just to clean up any misunderstandings.<strong>

**I know that Harry isn't that evil and all, but he will only act like that towards others. Don't worry, he will still burn that Diagon Alley to cinders. Again I apologize for not updating so long. What do you think of Harry's new name? I think it fits him quite well.**


	7. Resistance is Futile

**Chapter 6 is now up! I hate myself for not updating sooner, it isn't easy to write and what I write always looks shitty to me. Meh, once again I hope you will enjoy this chapter.**

****Disclaimer: I don't own Overlord or Harry Potter. Only my own characters.****

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><p>Chapter 6<p>

Resistance is Futile

Havoc scanned the snow-covered ground, he felt a light tug on his chest, to touch the bloodstain and breathe it's scent, to erase every evidence of his former existence. He kneeled and brushed his hand over the rough surface.

Tingles of magic spread over his hand, a strange sensation of knowing washed over him, as if it was only yesterday he fell onto this very ground and died. His heart was now straining to beat and his chest constricted. It was frightening, he fell onto his knees and tried to breathe properly with effort.

His eyesight became hazy and unfocused, as if he lost huge amounts of blood. He looked up and winced at the intense light above him.

"Maybe it would stop when I got some fresh air?" Havoc mumbled to himself and slowly clambered up the steep rock face of the pit. In a couple of seconds he was standing bare-foot on the cold snow and staring at the white yonder. He then remembered the sharp pain of his treatment by his next of kin, his back burned against the invisible lashes of the metal buckle and leather. His hands stung as the hot iron was pressed and scorched them. His throat went numb from non-existent screaming.

In severe pain, Havoc dragged himself through the snow and could feel tears sting his eyes along with slumbering hatred and rage. He leaned against a nearby tree, it crained itself to embrace him, as if on it's own volition; to shield him from the pain and suffering that he is facing once again. Havoc gripped tightly onto the bark and felt it break and fold under his hands. It was rotten, it's branches hollow and weak, it creaked as Havoc leaned even more into it, feeling some amount of empathy for the long-dead tree. He couldn't stop the thought how they weren't so different.

His feet became numb as they were buried in the snow and his knees were losing their integrity. He slowly slid down until only his black hair was visible on the surface.

"_Revenge, isn't that what you are yearning for?"_ Rip's voice cooed evily in Havoc's ears, resonanting in each and every fiber of his being; it was why he moved on, to get revenge on everyone who have hurt him. His eyes flickered over to the far off Hogwarts Castle and slightly grinned.

"Of course, Rip. Tell Rex we shed blood tonight." a series of shouts resonated in his head, plans, soldiers, preparations.

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><p>Rex, of course, was both delighted and infuriated for the sudden plan of storming the fortress above. The main reason is that Havoc wasn't healed enough to wear the bulky armor and engage one, let alone dozens of mages that they are sure to confront and kill. Rip, as always being the sneaky minion master, has been working on a strange 'modern' variant of the Overlord armor.<p>

"The armor is double times thinner but forged that it has almost the same strength! Some of the plates are mirrored to deflect spells and has a huge capacity of minions." Rip was barely keeping himself together as he presented the armor that is hanging beside him.

Rex glanced at the small suit of armor and had to hold back a snort. The armor was designed similar to his but apart from his it looks frail. The plates were strapped onto a black shirt with leather straps , the helmet was smaller and was less intimidating, which was very uneffective when it came to Overlording. The cuirass was a series of leatherstraps and leather plates, thightly pressed against the chest, the loincloth was a bit longer and less-ragged acting as something similar as a skirt. The legguards were just a series of leather straps studded with metal.

"This is unsuitable for a close encounter, Rip. I might suspect you want us both dead." Rex lowly growled. The minion simply smirked and retorted, "Sire, these are civilized times, axes and swords are out of commision, twigs are the hottest weapons there are." Rip barely held back a laughing fit as he saw the red eyes widen by the information. Rip enjoyed to torment the old mannerisms of his Sire.

"This world is...idiotic." Rex simply concluded, he never expected that the twigs the mages and wizards use would actually become mass produced and used as weapons.

"The wizarding world is. You must see the muggle weapons, I have never seen so much destruction in such a bombastic manner." Rip became even more jittery and rex could only think that the minion was remembering what he saw when these 'muggles' used their weapons.

"But we also have to discuss his latent ability."

Rex's eyebrow rose in question, "Ability? Such as?"

"Overlords can drain magic, right? They can manipulate it, change it and dispense it at will. But what is different in wizards is that they can use it on a more deeper level than an Overlord."

Rex intently listened while still staring at the poor excuse for an overlord's armor.

"But our Sire here is capable of using a wand, the wizard's catalyst! I've taken the liberty of integrating it into the gauntlet. With that, he can manipulate the magic 'inside' a wizard. As long if his will and magic is stronger than the victim's"

Rex nodded, his son was capable to do something similar but in a very crude and un-efficient way.

"We shall see if that works as you described it." he simply said and left to tell Havoc about his new armor.

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><p>Havoc, to say the least, was actually very happy for the new suit of armor. He fawned over it like some ten-year-old over a piece of sweetcorn. Rex shook his head from his perch that was usually the frame of a door while Havoc was inspecting each and every piece of the armor he was given, Rip must be happy as hell.<p>

"Havoc, can you stop acting like a child and answer me!"

The teen in question stopped at the shout and faced the Overlord, green staring into red. He shivered when he felt the intensity as if almost their very existence hanged in the balance if this didn't happen right now. He didn't even hear the question.

"I didn't hear." he flatly responded.

Rex sighed and repeated his question, "You will stay near me during the entire battle, no separation. Is that understood?"

Havoc returned back to inspecting the armor and simply responded, "Yeah, sure." Rex was somewhat pleased with the response, even by a little. He once again sighed and left the room and back to the great hall where Rip was telling off some random minion who has seemed to have lodged an axe in his comrade behind him.

"Look at the mess, Mucky! Clean it up!" Rip snapped at the dumb-founded minion and smiled the instant he saw Rex stomp down.

"Ah, Sire! Is the armor up to his standards?"

Rex shook his head, "Unfortunately so." he reluctantly confirmed. His stomach slightly clenched each time he saw that thin, paper-thin, armor. Visions of Havoc's blood flowing freely shook him to the core, his own life ebbing away through his blood. But thought like these drove him to question about his own life, is it worth living when he lost everything he knew? He wasn't sure what still drove him.

"Sire? You alright?" Rip shook him out from his gut-wrenching visions and meaning of life and was glad that he did. He looked at the minion and gave sliver of a smile, "I am."

* * *

><p>"I am afraid that I have grave news." Dumbledore's old voice cracked in the office where Snape, Remus, McGonagall, Sirius and the other faculty have came to attend the meeting. Hogwarts and it's Headmaster has been attacked, and having information that the attacker may have access to the castle anytime called for swift action.<p>

"And what would that be?" Sirius snapped sharply, his mood still venemous since Snape's remark. Even though an entire day passed.

"Sirius!" Remus scolded his husband and directed his attention to their former headmaster. Dumbledore sadly nodded in thank to the werewolf and began, "As you all know, Harry is still alive."

Everybody sadly nodded in confirmation while Snape only frowned.

"I believe that Snape has some suspicions about what I am about to tell you all."

"That Potter is an Overlord." Snape more stated than asked. The only ones who gasped are Remus and Sirius, everybody had confused looks on their faces.

"Severus! I will have you cursed to hell! How dare you call my son a monster!" Sirius almost flew at the potions master but Remus restrained him in time before the two men were once again pummeling eachother.

Dumbledore's face grew older and weathered, sadness. They were slowly losing him as his age started to catch up to him and the grief only catalized the process even more.

"Overlords have been the dark rulers of magic and creatures. They command vast magical powers and have the capability to siphon any type of magic they come across. There is only one Overlord as they go through their bloodline or, by some strange luck, an outsider is given the gift. Harry has obviously gotten the gift and one of the remaining minions have reached him." Dumbledore sighed after his explanation and prepared for a multitude of questions. But they never came. Everyone saw in what a state he was, it almost resembled how Harry grew in power, Dumbledore vained.

"What are you standing around for! We must protect this school and it's students!" McGonagall took iniciative when nobody would and dispersed the meeting with orders. Harry Potter or not, Dumbledore won't be reduced to such a state because of some boy even though she dearly cared for Harry, she couldn't let him ruin everything Dumbledore has tirelessly worked for.

The faculty went back to their duties, but with constant vigilance, looking for any signs of an impending attack. The students could feel the tension in the air and some of them were starting to break under the pressure. The first one was the poor boy Neville. Ron understood what he was going through, it felt as if a knife was pressed against your throat constantly, pressing and releasing.

"C'mon, Dumbledore must be doing something about this." Ron barely believed what he spoke. Hermione tried to ask who that knight was but she was denied of talking to Dumbledore for some unknown reason.

"Ron-" Hermione wanted to say something when the castle shook ever so slightly, it was enough to be felt, fear bled into their bones and their breaths hitched in their throats, the knife they all felt was now closing in for the kill.

* * *

><p>Havoc grinned as he held a minion in his metal grip, eyeing the weakest part of the dungeon walls. The minion looked at the wall and then at him, realization flashed over the minion until he started to manically laugh. Havoc's grin enlarged and poured power into the small gremlin.<p>

"For the Overlord!" was the last testament of Mucky the brown minion before he collided with the wall and exploded in a burst of magic.

Havoc has never seen such an example of power and readied his blade to draw blood. It was actually a large sword that had a jagged break of it's blade.

"_Well done, Sire! You are getting the hang of this very quickly."_ Rip commended. Havoc didn't respond as he focused on the dimly lit halls of the dungeon, his eyes scanning every movement. Wizards did and will reveal themselves so he didn't need to watchout for an ambush.

Rex glided infront of him and stomped while a small battalion of brown minions followed him from behind, leaving Havoc staring at his back in confusion.

"Coming?" Rex simply asked. Havoc nodded and followed. Everything was calm and Havoc concluded that their entry wasn't noticed but that thought flew out of his head as he felt the force of a spell wash over him as it bounced off of his shoulderplate. It was a nasty curse, he could feel the intent inside. His head snapped to face the attacker and saw none other than Snape pointing his wand at him.

Rex stepped infront of Havoc and pointed a large iron sword he was given towards the wizard, "You will pay for that!"

With a wave, the minions went into a full-out assault, not even thinking of the possible enemies upon which they might be charging. Snape simply flicked his wand and the minions were ripped to pieces.

Meanwhile Havoc was powering a minion from behind Rex. He jumped out and almost yelped as the minion was ripped apart just like his brethren.

"I am not that stupid, Potter."

Rex raised his sword in a jousting position and slowly paced into a run, intending to run the offending wizard through. Snape clearly found the tactic to be very reckless and idiotic and simply smiled. He flicked his wand and waited for the cutting to begin.

Rex pushed his shoulder forward and looked intently as sparks flew from the shoulderplates. He felt his shoulder sting as some of the blades got through. Despite the pain he continued to withstand an onslaught of magical blades until he was a few metres away from the man.

Snape wasn't liking how this was unfolding, the large juggernaut wasn't stopping and seemed impervious to his spells. He even tried to slow him but the spells were simply drained. He was virtually unstoppable.

"Blast!" he exclaimed and apparated to the Headmaster's office, glad that Dumbledore still hasn't put up the wards. He appeared before the old man who looked very aware of what was happening.

"They are unstoppable." he said and Dumbledore nodded.

"I know. Severus, I am afraid that I need a favor from you."

Snape's eyebrow rose, this wasn't the time for asking favors.

"Go tell Voldemort of our predicament."

Severus wanted to express his dissagreement but the old headmaster stopped him as he continued, "This is the only thing we can do."

Snape knew that Dumbledore won't say anything else, the very look that the man possesses shook him. With the Apparation spell on the tip of his tongue, he realized what Dumbledore was doing. Two birds with one stone, they will eliminate each other; but at what cost?

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><p>Rex and Havoc reached the hallway that led to the Headmaster's office and were having a tough time reaching it as the faculty has settled there in a last stand, being pushed back by constant charges of minions. The halls were cracked and full of debris but vacant of students. Rex clutched his battered shoulder which looked like swiss cheese from Snape's attacks. Blood steadly dripped down the obisidian armor, forming a small puddle on the ground beside him.<p>

"Let me-" Havoc reached towards Rex but the Overlord backed off. "I am fine." he growled lowly. Havoc sighed and felt a soft rumble echo beside him.

"_Sire, the reds are ready." _Rip said and a small volcano erupted beside him, spewing red fumes and liquid. Havoc grinned and beckoned forth a small battalion of demonic red minions. They cackled madly while spitting live flames into their hands, ready to be sent to their targets and unleash mayhem.

"_Time to do it, Sire."_ Rip hissed with delight.

Havoc took a deep breath and glanced in Rex's direction and then at his glove that shone brightly. He faced the battalion behind him and ordered them to make a diversion. They saluted and skittered off to find a sutable position from where they could attack.

It was the other hallway which lead into the same junction where the office is. Havoc saw that Flitwick, Trellawney and Sprout went to defend while McGonagall stayed with Sirius and Remus, who eyed him down the hallway. At least now he had a chance.

Havoc stepped out and fluently swayed his hand while keeping eye contact with McGonagall. At first the woman swayed ever so slightly, her mind resisting his attempts of control. Her eyes were wide as her body was being taken over and beads of sweat slowly went down her old face.

"Harry! Stop it, at once!" she commanded and broke free of his hold, her wand pointed and a curse at the ready.

"_Hmmm...quite a strong-willed woman. No matter, crush her with your fist as if she were a nut, Sire." _Rip recommended.

Havoc nodded in agreement, nobody will stand in his way, and clenched his fist. It echoed like a gunshot, the blast of magic that washed over everyone dazed them and a solid thump echoed seconds later. All that remained of Minerva McGonagall was a charred skeleton, laying between Sirius and Remus. Sparks of ethereal magic danced around the remains as they left it, dispersing into the air.

They stood there in shock, their ears rung from the blast their favourite god son unleashed. Sirius couldn't believe that Harry was capable of turning on them, or even kill someone in such a manner. His heart broke and tears started to roll down his cheeks.

"Harry?" he whispered to the two knights infront of him, two pairs of glowing eyes trained on him. The red ones were cold and hard, but somewhat sympathetic while the green...they gave a look of someone long gone, hard determination was set into them.

The smaller knight walked over to them in a deafening silence, the metal boots faintly clacked as they touched the stone floor.

"If you resist, you will face her fate." Havoc simply said and passed beside his former godfather. Rex leaned onto his sword and watched over the still-stunned wizards, some of them cried furiously while others were pale with fear. The intense feeling of betrayal and defeat was evident on their features and Rex felt strangely sympathetic towards them.

"Mourn...weep. You better get used to it, you will be doing it a lot when you see your precious world burn." Rex was sympathetic, but with a twist of course. He looked at the staircase where Havoc disappeared into, thinking what would be smart; to follow or stay. He concluded it would be best to stay when he felt anger flare up at him, Havoc was pissed now.

He was scared how in-tune he was with the teenager's emotions, after some time of constant influence even he started to feel like that. It was a roller coaster for him ever since he was bound with the brat. What scared him even more is that he feels his heart-strings pang with each display of power from the boy.

Indeed he was, Havoc stood at the oak table, glaring at the older man behind it. His hands were balled up into fists and the metal gloves creaked from the force. Dumbledore looked at the hate-filled eyes and let out a defeated sigh.

"Revenge isn't the only answer."

Havoc sprung at the words and mauled the table in half, now standing above the older male, ready to rip him apart in an instant.

"You speak of answers, Dumbledore? What about questions? Hasn't that crossed your mind even once when it came to Harry Potter?" Havoc gritted out.

"We can't know what was happening to you, Har-" Dumbledore wanted to say Harry but stopped himself sadly.

"Do you have an idea what pain I withstood? Telling you is pointless, I will have to show you, on a more personal level." Havoc grinned as he started to cut his palm and let blood freely flow from it.

"Magic is interesting, it is everywhere...in us, in our blood. And it remembers, would you know that?" Dumbledore didn't understand what Harry...he isn't sure who the person before him is, the only name he has is Overlord. Havoc violently pressed his bloody palm against Dumbledore's forehead and started pouring the memories that were still contained within his blood.

Dumbledore started to violently shake as his mind was flooded by horrible memories. He felt the pain course through his body as he looked at the writhing form on the floor of a basement. Deep gashes were on it's pale body, blood slowly dripped all over, making the concrete floor crimson.

Sobs vibrated through his head and intense hatred washed over him.

Suddenly Havoc felt his own mind become flooded by Dumbledore's memories. They were mostly the ones where he was filing papers but then one memories appeared even remotely interesting. He is in the Leaky Cauldron and is conversing with a short man who is hidden slightly in the shadows.. The difference between Dumbledore then and now was very evident, the younger version still held a somewhat youthfull look.

"Mr. Pettigrew..."

"Albus Dumbledore. You are lucky that I have agreed to meet you here, these aren't safe times." Pettigrew slured through his two buck teeth. His fingers nervously tapped against the old table, bringing a mug of some alcohol to his lips.

Dumbledore lowered his voice, "I have a favour to ask of you."

The other man stopped drinking and quizzically eyed the older man, trying to determine of what favour will he be asked.

"And what favour can I do for my former Headmaster?"

"A terrible one, but it is for the greater good." Dumbledore's face sunk and looked as if he aged a few decades. Mr. Pettigrew was visibly shaken by the change and was weary to ask.

"I need you to tell where the Potters live to Voldemort. I know you are their Secret Keeper." he looked directly into Pettigrew's eyes, almost pleading. Of course, Mr. Pettigrew couldn't believe what he was being asked to do. He shook his head several times, in hopes that he didn't hear his former Headmaster properly.

"Can you please repeat? Betray the Potters to the Dark Lord? Why?"

"I cannot...the only thing that matters is the greater good."

"And you will have them killed? They trusted you and you ask me to betray them aswell? No...I can't, I have to decline." Pettigrew said in resolution but stiffened as he suddenly felt a spell grip tightly around him. "I am afraid I can't let you leave."

"You are insane, Dumbledore. How can you just give someone to that monster?" Pettigrew hissed.

Dumbledore's grip tightened around the Animagus' body and whispered, "Must I force you? I really don't want to but if it is necessary for your cooperation, I will."

Pettigrew's eyes were gone wide, he didn't recognize his former master that sat infront of him, he was replaced by some zealot that would sacrfice everything for the 'greater good'. He swallowed a lump, his own life comes first, others later.

"No. There won't be a need for that."

Dumbledore visibly relaxed and dispeled the spell he had over his now-co conspirator. Havoc stared in shock, he always believed Pettigrew betrayed his parents because Voldemort threathened him. Dumbledore forced Pettigrew to betray them?

Suddenly he was pulled out of the memory and into the real world by a sudden thundering sound. He pulled out his blade in reflex and glared at the new visitors.

"Death eaters." he grumbled while staring into the eyes Lucius Malfoy.

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><p><strong>I don't think this twist is original, I didn't see ones like these anywhere. Preety cliche isn't it. At any case, to me it sounded revolutionary.<strong>

**I thank you all for your favorites, reviews and alerts! It keeps me going, ever so slowly. Thanks again for sticking so long!**


	8. Scars

**Ladies and Gentlemen, finally I've brought you chapter 7. I have procrastinated for such a long time that it isn't even funny and I apologize.**

**Thank you every one for the reviews. **

**The Dark Dragen****: **Don't worry, Snape won't be having anything with Havoc. I promise you. It won't be an excessive slash but it will have some of it. Never liked those sex-centric fanfics since they lack alot of things I desire. Anyway, thanks alot for giving the time to atleast write a sentence of praise :)

**Phoenixbat: **I hope I will keep up with maintaining your amazement. Thanks for the compliment :)

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><p>Chapter 7<p>

Scars

Clinks and clanks echoed in the lavish bedroom of the Overlord. The source of the metalic noises was a tin plate filled with water, several jagged metal bits relinquished their hold of crimson blood into the water.

"How much longer?" Rex asked, his red eyes twitching with every poke by the minion doctor who was trying to remove the shrapnel from Rex's shoulder. Havoc observed from a armchair neatly placed beside a fireplace which roared with orange flames.

Havoc was surprised when the shredded black cloth Rex wore undernath the armor was removed to reveal alabaster skin. It was rather clear that Rex spent most of his life inside the armor.

"A few more shards, Sire." the minion doctor was far more eloquent than of his other brown brethren, excluding Rip who might not even be considered brown after all these years.

Meanwhile Havoc was in his own world. His mind reeled in rising hatred and anger as his vengeance was ripped out of his hands at the last second. There was a short skirmish with a group of Death Eaters that apparated into the Headmaster's Office. During the onslaught, in which Havoc managed to kill or maim several, Dumbledore was captured and apparated away.

Voldemort was now first on his campaign.

Rip entered the bedroom and shuffled over to Havoc's side and slightly tapped the layed hand of his lord to attract attention. "My Lord," Havoc slightly jittered, "May I ask you for a moment in private?"

Havoc simply shrugged, somewhat greateful to be distracted from his raging thoughts. Rip led Havoc down to the throne room and another set of stairs that spiraled into the earth. The torches that lined the circular wall illuminated the slabs carved out of pure marble. Patterns of scrolls, runes and symbols lined both the floor and walls.

The pattern continued at the end of the staircase and into a dusty library with cobwebs with strands as thick as a finger.

"Ahh. The finest silk a Overlord could wear. Our librarian made these, until Camelot fell and she had been slain in a way not fit even for a dragon." Rip grumbled after that. Havoc hated how Rip constantly sprang new informations and revelations on him from thin air. Now Hogwarts is the only remaining structure from the fabled city of Camelot?

Rip muttered in a strange language that sounded like severely butchered german. His twig-like fingers ran down the shelves full of dusty old leather-bound books and glass casings in which are scrolls that look like made out of papyrus.

How ancient can this castle be?

Havoc almost stomped Rip when the minion stopped at a shelf tittled "Heimat und Familie". Rip's fingers slowly inched towards a peculiar scroll case with a rune finely scratched into the glass. Havoc slid out the case and handed it to the minion who resembled a small child wanting to reach the cookie jar.

"Yes, this one is it." Rip said and led through the dust-induced fog to a halfmoon shaped sitting corner flanked by more bookcases. In the center is a firepit, inside millenia old charcoal. Rip snapped his fingers and the pit burst to flames.

"I still know the trick." Havoc felt like he was hanging out with an old man, than a servant. The flames revealed stools around it and Rip sat on one.

"Please, take a seat, Sire. This shall not be a short story." Havoc glanced at the proffered seat, "I have no time for stories, Rip." his voice let out a trace of rising anger.

"This scroll holds far more information than Arthur has ever known. He may have been an inteligent and powerful Overlord, but his lack of interest in knowledge written by his ancestors cost him dearly. I do this so you can evade your end aswell, Sire."

Havoc thought about what the minion said and sat down. Rip nodded and carefuly opened and handled the ancient scroll.

"The beginning..."

Rex slightly shivered as the wounds on his shoulder slowly knited back together. The shards from his shoulder plates were gone and he was free to use his magic to heal the wound. He flexed and rotated his shoulder to see if everything is alright.

Happy with no pain, Rex went to put on his clothes back on but realized that he actually has no other clothes to wear and his shoulder plate is in the forge being mended. Plus he hasn't cleaned ever since he left his former domain.

Melancholy enveloped him yet again. He couldn't help but feel utter sadness and disconnection to this world. But he felt hope, no matter how hopeless it may be, but to find a friend in his partner. The lad is far more receptive towards him than he expected.

Rex wandered the many halls until he found a chamber with an old large and empty circular basin. It was deep enough to act as a pool of sorts. The overlord called forth a troupe of minions to clean the room and fill the basin.

Thanks to the chaotic effort of the brown minions, the room was spotless and the basin filled within mere minutes. Perks of having huge amounts of servants.

Rex wasn't sure when was the last time he saw his flesh, or how pale it was. He removed his helmet and let a huge mop of brown hair fall down. It was almost a meter long. He proceeded with removing the rest of his tarnished clothes and armor, revealing more and more pale skin.

Rex was a tall man, strong but compact muscles lined his entire body, hardened by constant wear of the armor. He distinctly remembers of being far larger and intimidating than before. Maybe it would be wise to ask Rip of crafting a new set of armor with new additions.

Somewhat happy, Rex lounged in the constantly heated water by red minions. He wasn't aware he fell asleep until he felt something tug at his hair. With a knee-jerk reflex, Rex swiftly reached for his sword layed just beside the heap that is his armor but his head slightly slammed against the edge of the basin and saw stars for a few moments.

"Hold still, I don't want to cut your hair to shreds" it was Havoc's voice. "You have to stop waking me like that." Rex growled. He was indecent and a boy is cutting his hair! He didn't ask for this!

"Well, you're constantly asleep. Besides, your hair really needs to be shortened." Havoc simply replied and continued to cut Rex's hair with an unknown instrument. "Can't a man bathe in peace?" Rex asked with a growl.

Havoc didn't reply for a few minutes before Rex felt almost a pound lighter at the head and heard faint taps on the stone floor. Rex stood up and turned in a flurry of rage and only managed to catch a bare foot disappear through the door.

He hated that child, he mentaly smacked himself for even thinking something positive considering Havoc. Suddenly Rex felt a calm and happy sensation come from the Tower Heart bond.

Maybe...

Havoc was out of breath and splayed over the thrones (one was recently added) and laughing heartily. The minions were carried away by their masters good mood that they stacked food on the large table and started a party.

Havoc didn't even notice the chaos that is taking place around him. On his mind was Rex's face. The noble features, strong yet soft jaw, and the glowing blood red eyes. He was mesmerized even now, Havoc was surprised to have been able to properly cut hair, even when it was his first time at it.

A flagon flew right above Havoc's nose and sent him into the air in fright. Havoc gripped his heart to calm down before taking the same flagon and hitting a minion with it.

"Silence!" Rex bellowed from a staircase. Only his pale shoulder isn't covered in the black armor, making Havoc uncertain what to think. "What is this?! All back to work!"

Compelled by their Sire's order, the minions swiftly cleaned up the mess they created and dissappeared into the various parts of the castle. Rip entered the room with an expression of slight confusion. "Have I missed something?" the yellow orbs switched between a slightly chuckling teen and a clearly exasparated armored juggernaut.

"I do believe we have to decide what to do with the students and teachers in our prison, Sires." Rip reminded the two overlords of their victory and loss just a few hours ago.

Havoc went somber at the mention. Rex sat at the throne beside Havoc, he felt utterly detached to what happens to those wizards. "It's your call, Havoc." Rex said.

Havoc pondered. The entire school was quick to betray him although some of his former house remained rather loyal to him. The Slytherins shall suffer the worst punishment, call it a grudge, but they made Havoc's life hell; they will be sent to the Forbidden Forest and left there. It is a death sentence, but they have a chance due to their numbers.

"Send the Slytherins into the forest. The rest can go home, I have no need for frightened and weak children." Havoc ordered. Rip went to go relay the orders before Havoc stopped him, "Wait, bring that blonde-haired boy from Slytherin to one of the bedrooms and keep him there."

"Yes, Sire." Rip bowed and left the room down a staircase that led to the lower depths.

"Wouldn't it be prudent to eliminate all of them? Our conquest will surely last for possibly decades, that is enough time for them to train and become our enemies. We will need support." Rex said wisely. Havoc had to agree with Rex, they will be outnumbered either way, some support wouldn't hurt.

"What about the teachers?" Rex asked. Havoc shook his head, he didn't really know. "Send them into the woods too." he knew that Remus, Sirius and the others would be okay in the forest. But after that, he won't hesitate on the battlefield.

Havoc stood up and was about to head up a staircase when his knees buckled beneath him. Firm hands caught him mid-fall.

"You have been up an entire day, you are all washed out." Rex simply said. "Why do you feel like that?" Havoc suddenly asked, staring into the polished stone floor. Rex's eyes visibly quirked in confusion inside the dark shroud within the helmet.

"What?" Rex could only ask, puzzled of what the boy was speaking. "That horrible feeling, that feeling I have felt my entire life," Havoc continued on, "The ache of isolation."

It never came to Rex's mind that the bond might go both ways. Has Havoc been feeling his emotions aswell? Intense grief hit him, he has been torturing the boy this whole time?

"I don't belong here... I have lost everything I know within a blink of an eye." Rex whispered. Suddenly he felt the side of his helmet hit his cheek. His hands swiftly covered the assailed spot and backed off. Infront of him stood a glaring force of anger.

"You're not the only one!" Havoc screamed. Rex let his hands fall to his sides. Indeed, Rex wasn't the only one to who this happened, and won't be the last. But that makes it no less painful. Rex had a feeling that two victims have better chances of getting through their wounds than one. He found himself to be amazed how much energy the boy really has once again. He was unnerved by the course his vision as it traveled over the teen.

Speaking of chances was rather foolish of him. It was as certain as that the sun will rise once more over the horizon.

His eyes softened and Havoc was obviously caught off-guard by the unexpected reaction. "Is having me so horrible?" his voice was dropping.

"You are a fool. Have you noticed the times when I felt alone, isolated?" Rex asked with a chuckle. Havoc's rage deflated the second he thought about it.

"Think before action. I wouldn't be here if I didn't." the tall overlord then led the teen to the main bedroom. Havoc buckled couple of times and constantly insisted that he could walk. After the third fall, Rex had enough and carried the boy like a hog and tossed him into the bed.

"Sleep." Rex simply said and shut the door.

Rex spent the night in a bedroom adjoining the main one. Rex could only conclude that the past overlords had more mistresses than he could count. A minion brought him a scroll with spidery writting, it reminded him of Gnarl's handwritting.

**The houses of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw have been released and transported via the Hogwarts Express. The Slytherin house, per Ovelord Havoc's demand, have been left in the deep recesses of the Dark Wood along with the Hogwarts staff.**

Along with the scroll, there was a newspaper. The headlines read in huge bold letters "Hogwarts taken over by dark wizards?". A rag tag group of children were crying and yelling in the picture below the headline.

"Fool." Rex mumbled before setting off to the throne room. As usual, the long table before the two thrones was full of food along with minions from cackling like mad men to juggling axes all around.

"Fool." Rex mumbled before setting off to the throne room. As usual, the long table before the two thrones was full of food along with minions from cackling like mad men to juggling axes all around. Along with torchlight, a curtain of meager sunlight carpeted the portal basin through the submerged windows. The overlord could spot a large sillouete glide within the depths.

"Ah, Sire. Had a good night's sleep?" Rip waddled over to his master, not paying any attention to the axes that are hazardly flying just above him.  
>Rex rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, "Somewhat. Rip, I will need a new set of armor. This one does not suit me."<p>

"As you wish, Sire. Any special demands?" Rip's lips spread into a feral grin. Rex wasn't sure if the minion was in a proper state of mind when talking about equipment anymore, he must have been a smith before.

"Similar to this one, but lighter and more..." Rex was struggling for words. "Sleek, Sire?" Rip asked. Rex nodded, this world has abandoned swords and bows, the need for thick armor is long gone and it is time for him to adapt to it.

"Would it be possible, by any chance, to implement some of the muggle weapons?" as Rex understood it, the muggle's have developed rather powerful weapons and are not to be taken lightly.

"Very good, Sire. I wil have it forged right away. Do not worry, I will make sure the armor will compliment your strengths perfectly. Might I also make another for the young master?" Rip asked. Rex was rather displeased by the last armor but it fufilled it's purpose nonetheless. He nodded his approval. Rip was a skilled artificer, Rex had to give the minion credit.

Rip waddled in the direction of the armory and left Rex to his meal.

Rex was just about to finish his meal when his ears started ringing. His vision was gone when a bright light, or he thought it was, felled him onto the floor. The feeling was back, death was knocking once more, scratching at his very soul, trying to latch on and rip it out of him.

Has Havoc been slain? Were they under attack? What was happening?

Unfortunately Rex wasn't able to get an answer no matter how many times he asked them. His body burned as the Tower Heart drained his life along with his consciousness. The last thing he saw was minions swarming around him; their mouths opening and closing rapidly. Their eyes wide open in shock and utter ignorance of what afflicted their master.

_"Havoc..."_

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><p><strong>And a cliffiy to start with after the vast crevice that is lack of insipiration and will along with a two month gap.<strong>

**I do hope you guys will stick with me and my story. Let's keep going, shall we?**


	9. New Blood

**Chapter 8, the BIG one. It was fun to write this one. Again thank you all for he follows and alerts. They all count, right?**

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><p>Chapter 8<p>

New Blood

Havoc drew breath while clutching at his chest. His heart was in overdrive, pumping blood that felt like it disappeared. But considering the thing he used, he suspected that it was the magic it was pumping back into his body.

Two minions helped Havoc of the floor. The minion doctor from before was pressing it's fingers against a now pale neck of Draco Malfoy who was strapped onto the bed with leather straps. The minion nodded in confirmation and Havoc let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

It worked...for now.

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><p>Heart started to beat. Starved lungs filled with air. Consciousness came in waves.<p>

"You demon!" someone shouted, followed along with sounds of metal scraping against stone. Rex's eyes shot open.

In his view was not the familiar floor of the underground throne room he distinctly remembered he died upon. His body pulsed with strange sensations reminiscent of death's knocking. The overlord mentaly slammed shut the door and ignored the feeling. More yelling came from his right side, down a corridor that looked like it was a part of a castle.

Where in hell was he now?

Rex lifted himself and rocked sideways. His muscles were for the lack of a better word, almost non-existant. He shambled over to a window that showed a blue sky. An expansive city of stone and wooden buildings dominated the view. Yellow patches of straw rooves lined the farthest levels until they stopped before a circle of large stone walls. Was he back in his own world?

His focus then changed to a lifelike blob of black on the farside of the city. Smoke rose from there aswell. Red balls of fire ascended into the sky every second or so before falling somewhere in the city, probably setting a flame some wooden building. The city was under siege.

"Silence!" a booming voice almost shook the entire structure of the castle. Rex shambled in that way. He was rather annoyed by being constantly in the unknown. It was time he got to the bottom of this.

The corridor from which the voices came from soon opened into a throne room with a circular table in the middle of it. The chairs were overturned indicating people left in a hurry.

More voices came from a hall to the far front and Rex with slowly reagining muscles shambled on.

The overlord was not expecting what he saw.

A man of enormous stature stood in white armor, trapped against a balcony that seemed doubtful it would carry his weight. Just inches away from the man was a sword carried by a man that looked like an epitome of manliness and utter beauty that Rex feared his eyes might melt if he looked any longer. Seeking respite he looked at the remaining six men who alos had their swords drawn and pointed in the direction of the obvious overlord. They all wore knights armor that was reasonably crafted rather than Rex's.

"We thought you were a servant of God! You decieved us with your foul trickery!" The manly man spoke with so much spite that the words themselves were venom. Rex then noticed a dead minion laying on the floor not far from him.

"I have decieved you, I confess. And I have a good reason for that." the cornered overlord spoke. The leading knight was about to send yet another volley of accusations but the taller man was quicker, "The enemies are at our gates. Witches and warlock aid our assailants with their magics. I am the only thing standing between them and Camelot's destruction."

"Must you lie still?" one of the other knight asked in righteous anger, his sword raising even higher.

"I tell no lies Sir Galahad. There is a world beyond yours. My world. Magic runs rampant over the world. Witches, wizards, warlocks... Merlin is one himself." The overlord spoke. The knights looked at each other in uncertainty. Their questions were answered but they didn't know how to really go about what they have been told.

Their leader spoke up, "Why would the wizards attack you if you are one of their own?" the men around him nodded in agreement but still keeping their swords up.

"They are afraid of me and my powers. They despise me for leading and upbringing mongrels and weaklings such as you." the overlord felt safe he could move away from the balcony, his former knights were sufficiently distracted for him to move, "They are afraid of what _you_ are capable under my leadership and power. I have disrupted their plans of murder and destruction that was surely to befall all of England, if not maybe even the lands over the sea."

"Aid me. If not for my sake, then for Camelot's sake."

Rex leaned against the stone wall, not quite sure what to think of this. The only thing we was sure of is that this was NOT his world.

"Ah, apologies." someone's voice came from behind Rex. Rex turned as fast as he was allowed to by his muscles to come face-to-face with the same overlord he has just turned his back to.

"I do not know why I torment myself so with the past. Perhaps to remind myself how it was then." the overlord spoke softly, blue eyes that shone within the helmet seemed to glaze over.

"What is going on here!" Rex shouted. His nerves were frayed, he has had enough of meeting weird people and constantly digging information out of them. Suddenly his feet lost their footing and Rex fell into a soft armchair. The whole scene shifted into a study that resembled one of the rooms in Hogwarts.

"Once again, I apologise. My mind sometimes drifts off. It was bound to happen when you reside within the Tower Heart for so long. What you just saw there was a battle after which I never returned. To die on the battlefield was the best thing a warrior could hope for, isn't it?" Arthur asked. Rex could sense a faint smile grace the invisible lips. He nodded in agreement, such was the glory of battle.

"Killed by my own son, would you know it?"

Patricide wasn't uncommon in those times, but even Rex had some standards, "Why am I here?"

"You suffered a whiplash caused by a sudden intrusion of enormous amounts of magic into the Tower Heart. Like a wave, the magic carried your consciousness here. I usually have the power to do such a thing when the current overlord is in need, but this time it was involontary on your part." Arthur explained. Rex shifted in his seat, "Nothing else? Havoc is still alive?"

The blue eyes squinted, "Of course, why wouldn't he be? You have nothing to worry about." Rex sighed and sagged into the armchair, relaxed kowing that he wasn't dead after all.

"It has been several days since Havoc's visit. Ever since then I have been eager to meet you, Rex."

"What for?" Rex's eyebrows rose in question.

"You...are a rarity. The Tower Heart has never accepted two Overlords at the same time. Your link to Havoc and what it entails has never been seen, and believe me, I am the engineer behind the Tower Heart." Arthur summoned a goblet in which swished blood red wine as far as Rex could see.

"You have opened up new possibilities just by being here. I would be fooling myself by saying that the Overlord line would last forever. Eventually the line would dry up and decay." Arthur took a sip from the goblet before continuing, "We were the first magic wielders on the surface of this earth, the originals. I am afraid Havoc would have a better understanding of what I am telling you, but he is occupied at the moment, it seems."

Rex grunted as he adjusted himself in his seat again. He had a profound feeling that Arthur was holding something back. What was Havoc doing?

"Todays magic users are offspring of my kin that melded with the magic less people, transfering their siphoned magic onto their offspring. A griveous mistake. Many generations will pass, yes, but they are heading onto a path that will eradicate them all." Arthur's voice became a one of grief, "They will spend all their magic and...die. Some sooner, others later."

"Rex. I ask of you to help Havoc in his campaign. Havoc may not know of what I have told you now, but he is lead down the path nevertheless. You have possibly saved far more than you are even aware of." Arthur finished with a tone of finality and rose from his seat.

With a wave of his hand, Rex's vision went dark and his thoughts were gone.

* * *

><p>Havoc walked back and forth, back and forth beside the bed Rex was carried onto by a whooping fifty minions. If Rex died now, it would be his fault. He was stupid to not consider the possible consequences that his actions entailed. He was scared out of his mind for Rex, hoping and gripping at each sign of life that came from the other overlord.<p>

Rex could die any minute now and Havoc was having a hard time bracing for that horrible agony that would be sure to come if Rex drew his last breath.

"Hav..." Havoc perked up at the sound and was instantly beside Rex, his face just mere inches away. "Fool." Rex grunted before pushing the teen away so he could sit up properly.

Havoc was smiling even though he was roughly shoved away and enveloped, as far as he could, the man into a hug. Rex sat there in confusion before reciprocating a little by holding the teen's thin waist.

The hug lasted a few seconds before Rex decided he would like to stand up. Havoc was somewhat disappointed. "What have you done?" Rex asked.

Havoc suddenly found the ground rather interesting, fearing those red eyes that he was sure were glowing with fury. Rex's tone was enough to know he was in trouble. The minions around their masters cackled and ooed.

Havoc while still staring intently at the stone floor lead Rex to a room not far from here. The room wasn't any different than the others except that it was occupied. It's occupant was laying on the bed similar to the one Rex just woke up in.

Beside the bed was the minion doctor from before. It was running it's long fingers over the covered form, performing some magic Rex nor Havoc knew of. The minion turned and greeted his masters with a deep bow.

"Sire Havoc. I have been successful of keeping your experiment from escaping from the mortal world. But I am afraid that he would be in a shallow coma for the time being."

"Experiment?" Rex let out a slow growl. It wasn't the fact that Havoc experimented that annoyed him, it was the fact that the experiment included the Tower Heart and him in the process.

The minion doctor, or witch doctor more like it, lifted an eyebrow, "You were unaware, Sire Rex?"

"No, I have not been informed of Havoc's actions." Rex replied with his eyes flashing towards the smaller one beside him. "What kind of experiment, Havoc?" the anger was now channeled into a silky voice. Havoc shivered despite himself.

"While you were having those cuts healed, Rip lead me down to a library and told me about the Overlords that Arthur didn't tell me. There is a way to turn a wizard into one of us. If he survives," Havoc nodded in the direction of the form in the bed, "I then made him one of us."

"The Overlord line is dying, Sire." suddenly Rip spoke and waddled over to the bed. Rex nor Havoc heard the minion come in. "Or to be more precise,the _Pristi_ race. Arthur and his lineage held the position of overlord two generations before being completely eradicated by wizards. England and some other parts of the world still are homes to few of the _Pristi_ but that number is dwindling without their minions."

"Who could blame them when we are evil incarnate?" Rex argued. Some memories flashed before his eyes.

"Darkness does not mean evil, but we do have a knack for it." Havoc added after being silent for the entire time. "But how can you make someone into a _Pristi_?" Rex almost broke his tongue pronouncing the race's name. Be it as it may, the ability to change someone into something that is alot different was beyond him. But he also thought other dimensions didn't really exist...

"To be frank I have no idea." Havoc shrugged, "But it could have something to do with changing their body to act more like a conduit than a container. Like I said, it could be that or I don't know." the teen scratched his head.

"And what made you turn him into one of us?" Rex was getting tired of asking questions. It felt like everything he was doing was asking questions.

"Considering that we have nothing to lose if he died, but if he lives, we gain a potent asset. His love for me will ensure his loyalty." Havoc said with a mischevous smirk, cold calculation quickly replaced youthful naivety that Rex is so used to seeing on his co-ruler.

"Doom for your enemies will then spell upon his lips." Rex said and left the room in search of food, his stomach agreed.

Havoc looked back at Rex leaving. Rip was close behind and the minions that have grouped up dissoolved. He walked over to the bed and leaned over to Malfoy's ear and whispered, "Can't wait for you to wake up, my love."

A smile spread over the sleeping face of Draco Malfoy.

Before leaving aswell, Havoc took Malfoy's hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. Laughs echoed down the halls of the underground Hogwarts.

* * *

><p>"Arthur, my lord?" Lucius Malfoy was caught off-guard by the sudden question sent his way by the most dangerous man in the wizarding world. He was sitting at a table in a corner and lamenting the absence of his son. He wasn't with the rescued Slytherins from the Forbidden Forest and the teachers, no matter how incompetent they were, said that Draco was not with them. Some of the students said that Draco was taken out of their cells by strange gremlinlike creatures and was not seen again.<p>

"Yes, King Arthur to be precise." Voldemort hissed from his armchair. Lucius was not sure what was happening inside his demented lord's mind, "He was one of the greatest muggle kings to have ruled England. He was aided by a wizard Merlin. I apologise my lord, but what does King Arthur have anything to do with my report?"

"It has to do with everything." Voldemort simply said and after that remained silent. Lucius feared to speak further. Voldemort possibly knew what has happened to Draco but refuses to say anything. That knight who almost cut him in half with that jagged blade was still fresh in his mind's eye. He has never seen a creature such as that or what grace and strenght it possesed to be able to cut down several Death Eaters like it was child's play. Lucius could have swore that his spells made contact but had no effect.

Lucius recalled the Death Eater, who was subsequently killed, came from a stake out mission and said he was attacked by a knight. He was not able to hear more when Voldemort sent him out of his room with a fierce shout of anger.

A shiver went down Lucius' spine. He felt that the knight would rival even Voldemort's power just by being virtualy invulnerable to spells. A far bigger war was just around the corner.

* * *

><p>Several days passed with nothing interesting happening in and out of Hogwarts. Rex had taken a liking to the Daily Prophet and the political polemics that were settled in a niche in the nation section. On the other hand Havoc glared at the newspaper like he willed it to burn in the deepest pits of hell imaginable. With surprise, the paper did light up on occasion when Havoc had a strong enough of a desire. Rex also found interest in the library, reading up on the <em>Pristi<em> history.

The only highlight of the week long wait was when Draco Malfoy woke up. Rex concluded that Malfoy was imperative in his current plan and followed the rather happy teen to the room where Malfoy was sleeping in.

Saying that Malfoy took the welcoming commitee well would be an understatement. Items and furniture were thrown around the room by rampant magic fueled with a killer's intent. While Rex was wary and ready to slay the teen on a moments notice, Havoc was enjoying the hectic display.

The second Draco's eyes fell upon the grinning face of Harry Potter did the items fall back to the ground. Every emotion was visible on the teens face from anger to happiness.

"Potter?"

"Draco." Havoc simply answered and walked over to the shocked boy with strange voluptuous steps. Rex's throat constricted and he started to cough. He wasn't used to this, not at all.

"Calm down will you?" Havoc was mere inches away from the shivering blonde. The minion doctor stepped closer, "Sire, It would be prudent that we keep his activities at a minimum."

"Sire? You are the one leading those things?" Draco spoke with a frail voice of disbelief. Havoc sat on the ruined bed and summoned a chair. Draco was further shocked by Havoc's wandless magic. Havoc nodded at the proffered chair and waited until Draco sat down.

"Yes, I am the one leading them, along with that guy. "Havoc pointed his thumb Rex's way who was rubbing his sore throat. Draco was visibly frightened by the tall knight and Havoc placed a reassuring hand on his hand.

"Don't worry, he won't hurt you. Now, I want you to listen carefu-" Draco interrupted, "What the hell is going on? You Potter are supposed to be dead, and for some reason you are here now being friends with a huge knight that would surely kill me?"

"Well obviously I am not dead," Havoc deadpanned. Rex looked on at how childishly Havoc acted when in the pressence of one of his own age, he was still unsure if it was a ruse or real feelings that Havoc is currently showing.

"I am a what?"

"A _Pristi_." Havoc repeated himself, "Did you see what you did to this room? Without a wand! Magic at your fingertips like never before. We are above the wizards and witches." Havoc lifted Draco up from his seat and stared lovingly into those mercury eyes. "Together we can rule and Voldemort is but a small rock on our path."

Havoc was playing on the 'head over heels in love' card and hoped that Draco would comply. If not, no hard feelings. "I am doing this for you, Draco. When I learned about this power, the possibilities... All I could think was to share it with you, my love."

Rex grunted and slapped his head while being out of sight. He wasn't made for this kind of shit. When it will come to public relations, Havoc will have all the ruses for himself.

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. Harry actually had feelings for him? This was too good to be true. Or was it? For all he knew this can be a dream. But it was his dream to be this close to Harry, to be able to smell him and touch him. His trembling hand rised and Harry leaned into the touch. It was utter bliss. The soft skin under his fingers sent tingles down his spine.

"Come on, let's get you some food." Havoc led Draco by the hand and passed a Rex that was once again having a cough attack. Seems like he is developing an allergy.

Havoc stared at the bewildered Draco as the blonde looked around the throne room. Those minions were really good masons and builders.

"Draco," it was the only thing it took to get Draco's attention. Havoc noticed how unmalfoy-like the blonde was acting. He either did something to Draco's brain or the blonde was just so overwhelmed with life-relevant information that he forgot all about it.

"I saw you put this on my altar in the Gryffindor dorm." Havoc spoke and took out the intricate locket Malfoy left in his room several days ago. Draco's face went blank.

"You were there? How? The Fat Lady didn't say anything."

Meanwhile Rex was observing from his throne and his thoughts about those kinds of tactics were degenerating. He never expected Havoc to be that cruel. Not in the mood to watch anymore he decided to check up on his armor's progress

If you couldn't find Rip in the throne room, he was in the forge. The minions face lit up with each spark that flew from a nearly completed piece of armor. Rex could see clearly that the minion when at the forge he felt at home. A shelf at the back housed the leather armor Rex was so displeased with. Beside the poor excuse were pieces of a suit he didn't notice before.

The shoulder pads were finished along with the breastplate and boots stood beside them. There was no helmet so Rex thought it was still in the making. A girdle with strange fabric attached to the sides sat behind the breastplate. Lines of what looked like to be conduits mesmerized him with their soft glow. All of the pieces had some intricate carvings along with a few small spikes here and there.

"Ah, Sire. Your requested armor will be finished soon. I do think that the design would please you greatly." Rip greeted. Rex shook his head and nodded, his mind still swirling with questions and glow.

"Rip, while I was unconscious Arthur spoke to me." Rex began, "The wizards are hybrids of the _Pristi_ and normal humans. But if that is so. How can Havoc be one when you told me he was a wizard?" Rex noticed a hole in both Arthur's and Rip's logic.

Rip rubbed his chin thoughtfuly, he never really thought about that. "There have been offspring borne of wizards and _Pristi_. Sire Havoc might be one. Considering that wizards are still attuned to magic, the _Pristi_ quality transitioned far better. I have to admit that Havoc summarised the conduit nature of the _Pristi_ was rather good." Rip finished.

"I am ingorant to this world like a child." Rex grumbled to himself. Rip slightly smiled, revealing his fangs, "It will all fit into place, Sire. Your world is not much different from ours."

It dawned on Rex that he hasn't left the castle ever since he got here. The only view of the outside world he saw was the underwater and a few glances outside the windows when they took over the castle, but it was too dark outside for him to see anything. With his curiosity peaked, Rex passed a baffled Draco Malfoy and a utterly mischevous Havoc on his way to the portal. With a wave of his hand he dematerialized and found himself standing in a sharp winter breeze. He stood outside the castle's outer gates with a huge forest spanning in front of him. To his sides were paths, the one to his right had a sign.

It said 'Hogsmeade'.

Rex snorted. He has never heard of more ridiculous names in his life. Maybe not compared to those Empire retards his son fought against.

With desire to see more of this new world, Rex continued down the path. The woods seemed endless to him until he finally spotted a clearing with structures in the middle. It took him a good half hour to get there.

The wind blew fiercly inside the clearing that soon showed it was actually a low land with a tall mountain to it's right. The village looked like it was in the middle of festivities but quickly abandoned. Cups carried by the wind passed him by. Rex noticed a notice board at the entrance to the village.

Rex walked over to it and saw a huge notice with it's tittle written in big bold letters: **Evacuation!**

**By the order of Minister of Magic, the residents of Hogsmeade Village are to leave their homes and shops due to great danger coming from Hogwarts Castle.**

Rex was sure that few came peacefully when he looked at the unruly state of things. Surely this place would be more interesting, Rex's hope dwindled with each step. He passed by many colourful shops and stands, there was even an inn that rivaled that of a true medival tavern filled with both drunkards and rising legends. Rex was dissapointed by the name of it: Three Broomsticks. Who would name their tavern after such sorry tools?

Something caught Rex's eye but when he turned it was gone. He was not alone here. Once again the overlord cursed his stupidity for not carrying any sort of weapon on him. Before he could take another step, a poorly aimed bolt of magic passed him by. It came from behind.

Rex turned on his heel and was greeted by a ragtag gang of wizard, pointing their horribly disfigured sticks at him. The overlord easily spotted the gutless worm that the wizard was who shot at him, and missed. He managed to count ten of them before they all sent spells flying.

They hit but didn't register. Rex sucked in the bolts but they still pushed him back. Before he could regain his balance a spell that felt like he was hit by a mule sent him flying and through a window into one of the shops. He felt blood in his mouth as his head hit the floor boards and his entire body slided into a wall.

The downed overlord was about to drag himself up but two more explosive spells slammed him back into the ground. He could do something if he caught the projectiles, but nothing against their explosions whatsoever. His ears rang and a headache was settling in quite nicely at the back of his brain.

Suddenly in his mind Havoc's voice rang. _"You okay?" _worry perfectly evident. Rex knew that Havoc didn't call him through the portal, it was through the bond they had. He just knew it. Two metal boots that he saw back at the forge stepped into view and a heavy blade with a jagged break clanged against the wood. Rex felt extreme anger, but it wasn't his.

_"I am not a child." _Rex replied through the bond. His tone may have been angry but Rex knew that Havoc won't take it that way. He lifted himself up and almost fell no his back. He held onto a piece of the wall that was still intact while his eyes fell upon a Draco Malfoy who was dressed in atleast a dozen fur coats.

"Who is that?" Rex heard one of his attackers ask. "It's Potter! Harry Potter!" the closest one with the best view started yelling.

Havoc began to walk and drag the huge blade behind him before running out of the store in a full sprint. Two red drapes followed him. He was wearing his new armor, mostly parts of it. He was in such a hurry that he managed to only put on the boots, the two shoulderguards with the girdle and his Overlord gauntlet. He deemed it would give him enough strenght to carry the large blade he has taken a liking to. He was able to swing it if he had momentum, he would have to wear the full armor to be able to swing it proficiently without running.

Rex looked in awe how fast Havoc ran. The gray-green coloured pices of armor fitted his black shirt and pants.

Havoc sprinted through the down-trodden street. He jumped and skidded on the ice like a skilled ice skater when he dodged the bolts of magic the clearly terrified Aurors were casting. His first target sent a stunner at him but he caught it in his hand and threw it back into the wizard. His hand went numb from the elbow down. He needed armor to absorb the negative effects first.

Having knocked out the wizard he sprinted in a beeline for the second closest. The wizards spells were flying at head hight and eventualy he would be hit no matter how fast he may be. He let himself slide down the slippery slush on his back effectively surprising his opponent.

The wizard wasn't fast enough to dodge the blade that bit into stomach and beyond. He was almost cut in half but Havoc quickly pulled the blade out as he passed by. Through the rumble of adrenaline in his ears, Havoc caught gasps. He only laughed and proceeded onto his next victim.

Rex was leaned against the broken window of the shop he demolished by flying into it and watched the carnage. _"He must be having loads of fun," _Rip's voice slightly cackled in Rex's ears. _"Play clean, fight dirty." _Rip added. Rex at the lithe form go in and out of the sprays of blood carried by the huge blade he wielded, his heart skipped a beat. It was a minute after the beginning of the fight and Rex was able to count fourteen deaths and one stunned. Havoc swung his sword to remove the blood and sheated the blade in a scabbard attached to the girdle. It was long and large as his thigh.

A Havoc covered in boths slush and blood dragged over the stunned one to Rex and Draco and let the man fall before Malfoy. "Drain him." Havoc simply said, absent of any emotion. Rex found the scene to look like a mother wolf brought food for it's cub.

Draco visibly hesitated. His eyes darted back and forth from the emotionless and seemingly vacant stare of Harry and the man before him. He was still in shock from how beautiful Harry was when entirely focused in battle, the movements and swings were a display of controled animalistic rage that Draco found himself hot and bothered. Anything for his love.

Havoc slowly got down on his knees and began panting. Adrenaline was finally out of his system and left him breathless. His vision was all blurry and unfocused. "I'm beat..." he gasped out.

"Why are you out of wind now? You ran far more than this." Rex helped Havoc into a chair that was the only thing not broken in the entire shop. "The only reason I can carry this thing is because the armor uses my magic to give me enough strength to lift the bloody thing." Havoc spoke in the middle of deep breaths. The two overlords then looked at the _Pristi_-in-training.

Malfoy was still not sure how he was to go about this and constantly repositioned his hands on the unconscious man's body. He looked at Havoc for a moment and found unusual resolve when he saw the flushed face. He pressed his hand against the chest of the man and felt himself, or rather his magic, latch onto the core. The magic like water started pouring into him. His body shook as it drained energy for the first time. The pleasure was making Draco feel all giddy.

It felt like hours for Draco but it was in reality just a few minutes. The flow then suddenly stopped and Draco found himself fall on his behind, still a few remaining shivers convulsing his body. His eyes glew a soft glow until it vanished along with the afterglow of the drain.

Havoc stood up and gave his hand to help Draco off the floor. The blonde happily took it, although shakily at first. Rex stepped out of the shop and raised his hand. The horn bellowed and minions heeded it's call and seemingly out of nowhere an entire platoon formed up before the overlord.

"I want this village clean of the bodies." Rex simply ordered before following Havoc and Draco who have already departed back to the castle through the portal.

* * *

><p>Draco couldn't sleep. So much happened in one day. Today he woke up as something new. Today he killed a man with his own hands. Today Harry told him he felt the same thing for him. It felt like it was a dream and Draco pinched himself several times to make sure it wasn't. His mind sometimes flashed with memories not his own. It were those Harry transfered to him just after Rex left. It made a lot of things more clear.<p>

When he thought about Rex, he didn't know what to think. The man acted like a knight from the fifteenth century and spoke like one too. Harry told him he was a _Pristi_ too but Draco felt like Harry didn't tell him everything.

He raised his hand into the darkness and illuminated it with magical sparks flying out of his fingertips. With this power...Who knew what he could achieve alongside Harry.

"I'm going to save you, mother, father." He whispered and let sleep take him.

* * *

><p>It felt like there was a war about to go down as Havoc pointed left and right at the slowly amassing platoons of brown minions with two or three squads of red minions forming the core of it. The whole inner courtyard of Hogwarts castle was occupied.<p>

Havoc was wearing his new suit of armor that Rip expertly forged. The sleek design made Havoc look even thiner that ever. Small, almost liquid, canals were etched into the breastplate and greaves that spread down to the soles of the boots. A crest of an eye with emerald encrusted socket was on the chest. The helmet made the armor a whole. Three spikes formed the crown with a T opening infront. Chainmail hanged slightly where the greaves connected to the knee-high metal boots. The two red drapes of fabric attached to the girdle lashed as the winter wind whipped.

Rex stood right beside him wearing his new armor aswell. The helmet was a three-spike crown with the frame of a wolf skull. In one of the sockets was a gear mechanism which flipped over the socket with various glasses. The thick chestplate bore a motif of huge fangs. It was made out of coils that were overlaping eachother with thick panels of steel bolted onto the points where there wasn't any movement. A long torn black cape billowed to his side. A thick girdle was connected to the heavily armored greaves by several strands of chains on both sides. The boots were in the shape of a clawed foot. The entire armor was black with strips of red that looked like clawmarks. Into the armor was also knitted fur pelts of the worg from the Dark Forest. Gauntlets had two compartments on the top and bottom which housed small barrels that are ready to be fed ammunition. Across his back was a scabbard that held his new claymore made of finest steel.

Draco Malfoy, while securely smothered in the vast amounts of coats, observed the preparations from a balcony. Harry told him to stay put and that he was still too fresh to go into battle. Draco knew where their warpath lead the duo. It was Malfoy manor. It was public knowledge that Voldemort has taken residence in the Malfoy home ever since he appeared. And along with Draco's information about the manors defenses and structure, the plan was in motion.

The blonde shivered both from the cold wind and the energy that waved off from the many bodies below. Draco had to admit that the minions, no matter how ugly they may be, were an interesting and strangely efficient bunch. The red minions Draco found out were sociopathic pyromaniacs that a person wouldn't want to have in his home. Draco had a feeling that he won't be seeing his home in the end.

He perked up when he saw Harry wave his hand in a move that meant forward. The front row made out of two platoons of forty composed of the most heavily armored and armed minions followed their masters onto a large stone platform with runes inscribed into the face.

Havoc looked up and found Draco watching them from a balcony. He waved. Draco waved back. Havoc smiled in his helmet and ordered the stone plate to transport them to Malfoy Manor.

Havoc breathed in the darkness. With a flick of his hand light sprung up inside what looked like to be trench of some sort. He felt Rex push him forward further into the row. His boots slishsloshed in ankle deep water. Above them was a thick layer of dirt suspended by thick wooden beams that were visibly rotten.

"So much for an escape tunnel." Havoc said. He expected more out of a escape tunnel out of a wizard's home. "If it serves it's purpouse, why care about the appearance." Rex simply stated and followed Havoc to a dry patch of floor slightly above the puddles of water. The two platoons of forty were pressed into three rows and spanned a good distance back.

Havoc kneeled and drew with his finger a simple schematic of the Malfoy manor. The west and east wing. The north had a garden and north-west of it was the tunnel they are currently in. Havoc drew a line from the tunnel paralel to the garden's border of hedges.

"The plan is that you provide a distraction to get as many Death Eaters riled up and in the garden as possible. I will enter the house through the dungeons and strike from the back. After we have dealt with the most of them, we search the house for Dumbledore and Voldemort. What Draco says that Voldemort spends most of his time in the parlor and the drawing room so we go there first." Havoc drew arrows all around the schematic.

"Isn't the land before the garden flat ground?" Rex asked. If so his job would be a lot harder without any cover. Havoc nodded. "Yeah, so you will have to think of something to make some cover. I'm sure you will think of something." Havoc patted Rex on the shoulder and Rex felt the smile in the dark shroud of Havoc's helmet.

"Tell me when you get all set." Havoc then waved his hand and the first platoon of minions followed suit. It didn't take long for the sounds to of splashing feet to disappear and Rex began cutting a hole in the ceiling. He made a circle with his thumb and lifted the huge chznk like a lid. The tunnel wasn't very deep when Rex only found two to three inches of soil and dirt. No wonder the tunnel was flodded.

The overlord jumped out of the hole a good meter or so before landing with a dull thud. He felt his magic drain slightly as the armor used it to increase his jumping hight. The armor was almost light as air despite it's thickness. The minions quickly followed out of the hole like rats abandoning a sinking ship and formed a formation behind Rex.

Just as Rex expected, The field they were in was as flat as it can possibly be. Behind them was a thick wood so they had a good route if needed to retreat. He considered how will he go about this. He needed something sturdy that would soak up alot of damage. The trees were out of the question because he would be noticed immideatly. Then he got an idea.

He pressed his palms against the snow-covered ground and sent a spike of energy through the ground, willing the energy grapling hooks to tear the ground into the air. He pulled his hands up like he pulled invisible ropes. In response the ground rumbled until two huge masses of soil and rock rose into two ramps four meters tall. Rex then swiped with his hands and tore section after section of the ramps until two staircases were formed in barely a minute. He waved his hand and the minions climbed the artifical hill and took positions.

Spells started to brush and fly above the cliffaces. Rex got their attention alright. _"Everything is ready." _Rex sent the message through the bond and got a satisfied feeling in return.

Havoc sent the door flying into the dungeon walls. His hand crackled with energy. Minions flowed into the room like a flood and stood guard at the door that lead upstairs while two of the minions quickly overpowered a Death Eater that stood guard at what looked like a warden's office. Havoc pulled the man up by his hair and politely asked, "Where is Dumbledore?".

The man only screamed in pain and Havoc was not happy about the answer. He drew a small dagger from a sheath attached to his belt and slammed it into the man's leg. "How about now?" he could have used crucio but it wouldn't be any fun torturing like that. The man's eyes went askew from the pain and could only say one word: dead.

Havoc cursed as his hand slammed the man's head into the wall and sent a spray of blood against the wall. The man must be happy now, no longer suffering. He couldn't be dead. Voldemort would be having too much fun torturing the old man. With a snarl he ordered the minions to search every single cell, every nook and crany. Dumbledore has escaped his grasp far too many times already.

_"Everything alright, Havoc?" _came Rex's voice. Havoc was unaware how much anger he let flow into the bond and quickly snapped his door shut. _"I'm fine."_ he replied. The minions came back empty handed only one had a stripe of blue cloth in his hand. Havoc restrained his anger and decided to continue on with the plan.

He opened the door that lead upstairs and found himself in a corridor. The Malfoy manor was so dull. Black and gray everywhere. Havoc suspected that the reason Draco was blond was the lack of natural light rather than that it was natural. He could hear the sounds of battle dulled by the thick walls. He continued on as he remembered this hall was leading to the ballroom straight ahead. The last door was a huge double door. He opened it and could see through the windows looking at the garden Death Eaters casting spells at what looked like a huge clifface made out of dirt. Rex sure was creative.

Havoc simply lifted his hand and pointed it at the wizards. Manical cries of glee were emited from the minion's throats as they charged through the windows and into the Death Eaters, some with their miniature halberds, some with clubs and a few with their teeth. Havoc found this very similar to a tactic used by some great general, he thinks it's called Hammer and Anvil.

Rex's platoon jumped down the cliffs and joined in the fray. The dar wizards stood no chance in hand-to-hand combat. The carnage was swift and bloody. Their losses were a few reds and about ten browns, mostly from Rex's platoon. It was a total of fifty dead Death Eaters. Havoc doubted that there was more of them in the manor, and if they were, there would be two or three. Havoc noticed that Bellatrix wasn't among the corpses. Good.

Rex walked over to him, crimson blood quite evident on the black surface. He obviously joined the fray. "Well done." Havoc said and returned back inside. Rex followed closely with his platton behind.

* * *

><p>Draco wandered the empty halls of Hogwarts. He met every once in a while a house ghost but they were silent. Sometimes he noticed a minion dressed in a maids outfit sweeping the floors. Draco found himself rather lonely and cold. He thought about how lonely Harry has been his entire life, he didn't tell Harry that he got some memories not intended for him. His body convulsed as a belt buckled flashed before his eyes, he wasn't sure if it was from fear or anger.<p>

_"Master Malfoy." _Draco yelped in fright as Rip's voice echoed inside his mind. He wasn't expecting that.

_"Apologies, master."_ Draco held onto his chest and let himself calm down before replying. _"What?"_

_"There is an intruder in the castle."_ Rip warned. Draco then saw the muddy bootprints that lead down one of the halls. His left hand gripped tightly at the locket in his pocket. His giner passed over the S bulge that looked like a snake on the face of it.

He was in a dillema, should he follow? He observed the bootprints; they were huge. Fitting for a giant. With slight resolve Draco decided to follow. _"Be careful, master. If something happened to you, Sire Harry won't be pleased." _

Draco continued on and followed the prints to the seventh floor and the prints disappeared at the wall opposite of the tapestry depicting Barnabas the barmy's attempt in teaching trolls do the ballet.

Draco yelped once again when the wall spoke, "What is it you require, Master?". Draco stepped back a little before responding, "I want to see where the intruder went."

A door drifted out of the stone wall. Draco grasped the ancient knob and slowly opened the door. He saw a very familiar coat of mole fur along with a huge mop of black hair. It was Hagrid. Then he saw a blade rise high above the half-giant and fell down. Something metal broke.

* * *

><p>Havoc and Rex were running through the manor. Time was of the essence and they must act quickly. Havoc sent Rex to breach into the parlor while Havoc went the other way towards the study. When he reached the study door Rex called, <em>"Empty.".<em>

Havoc pressed his hand against the door. His latches probed the air behind and caught on a small amount of condensed magic. Voldemort was behind this door. The door was blasted open and fell of it's hinges. He expected a barrage of spells to hit him but nothing came.

"A knock would have been sufficient." a familiar hiss came from the darkness. Havoc stepped in and let the minions form a defensive circle around him, even though they only covered his feet.

Lucius observed the knight from his corner. The knight may look different but the green eyes were the same. They housed the same rage and terror like last time. He had the urge to ask the man what did he do to his son. An impossibiliy with the Dark Lord's pressence.

"Thought a grand entrance was in order." Havoc replied. Lucius recognized that voice. The owner of it has been dead for over a year now. Potter?

Voldemort stood up from his chair. Nagini slithered down his robed leg and formed a defensive circle around it's master. Voldemort's blood red eyes flicked as he noticed the small gremlin-like creatures. "I never thought I would live long enough to see one."

Havoc crossed his arms against his chest, "Been a life long dream?" sarcasm dripped like venom. Voldemort smirked, no fear whatsoever. "No, it is an honor to see one, but an even greater to see two."

Havoc noticed Rex came into the room. Lucius was severely distraught by the fact there was more than one of them. Voldemort noticed Lucius' apprehension. "Lucius, have no fear. I doubt there will be a conflict."

"Voldemort," Havoc hissed, "You know for what I came here.". Voldemort nodded and acted perfectly civilized, the snake knew something Havoc didn't. "Yes, I am quite aware of your intentions. You wouldn't have killed a good portion of the manor staff if you didn't. Let's say that you and I are in the same situation." Voldemort sat down in his chair and crossed his legs, entirely relaxed. "Or victims I should say."

"I heard Dumbledore was dead." Havoc supplied. Voldemort's non-existant eyebrow rose. "Dead?". Havoc had the urge to slap himself. What a Dark Lord who had no idea what was happening in his base. "I had the time to interrogate one of your minions, specificaly the warden and he said he was dead." Havoc explained, he didn't even expect that he would have to do something like that to Voldemort.

Havoc didn't envy Lucius when he was stared down by Voldemort. The bony wand appeared in Voldemort's hand and the killing curse was on his lips. Havoc jumped across the room and managed to catch the green projectile that intended to end Lucius' life. The ball of energy scratched the metal glove while the overlord drained it and then slammed it into the ground.

"My, my. Such power." Voldemort almost purred at Havoc. Havoc drew his sword and pointed it at the Dark Lord. "Try that one more time. The only reason I didn't let you kill him was because his son is still alive." Lucius couldn't keep silent. "He is alive? Where is he? Is he alright?" Havoc found himself rather surprised how the Malfoy mask fell in an instant.

The overlord tapped the blonde man on the forehead, petrifying him. Lucius fell on the floor like a statue. All of a sudden Havoc's ears drums hurt in protest as Voldemort started screaming like he was on fire. The pale spidery hands ripped at his chest like he wanted to tear something out of his body. Rex drew his sword and looked back and forth between Havoc and the screaming wizard. Havoc acted first and stunned the Dark Lord. He wasn't sure if it stopped the pain, but it sure as hell stopped the bloody screaming.

The minions were glad to take out the fingers out of their ears and swarmed over the two wizards and lifted them up like pieces of furniture. Havoc lead back to the tunnel while Rex covered the back. A few Death Eaters began to flock in through the floo room. Rex opened the compartment on his gauntlet and fed the small cannon a wooden clip of rounds. He pulled the string and sent a few into the legs of the unknowing wizards.

Screams escorted the retreating force back home.

* * *

><p><strong>This is my longest chapter yet. This is my best one too. Well, I hope the action got you wanting more.<strong>


	10. Please, tell me more

**Hello new and old, followers and, if possible, reviewers! Another huge expansion to my story has arrived! More blood, slight angst and history here to grace your eyes!**

**To be quite honest, I feel very accomplished to write such huge chapters in three or four days time. But of course you don't want to read my rambling. I bid you adieu for now and enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 9<p>

Please, tell me more.

Havoc and Rex observed their two platoons carry the two wizards, Lucius was carried off to the sleeping quarters while Voldemort got a cell for himself. Rip greeted the overlords but his face displayed far from happy emotions.

"Sires. We have noticed an intruder in the castle. It is Hagrid, our former groundskeeper. Also, Master Malfoy followed him." Rip supplied and Havoc was quick to hiss an order at the portal. Rex didn't even notice Havoc left his side before the younger one was gone.

"Why didn't you notice him earlier?" Rex grumbled. Rip shrugged, "I am not omnisicent, my Lord.". Rex sighed and unhooked the heavy gauntlets and put them on the table.

Havoc almost skidded along the stone hallway. Sparks flew from his heels with each turn. Stupid blonde, Havoc cursed in his mind, didn't he say he was supposed to stay out of trouble? Well he didn't think that someone would be able to sneak into the castle unhindered. What was Hagrid even doing here?

Havoc felt the pulse of magic waving off from Draco, a precaution he implanted. He almost tore up the stone floor when he finally stopped to see Hagrid was running towards Draco. The half-giant noticed him and a sword was raised in the man's hand. Havoc recognized it as the Sword of Gryffindor.

Draco backed off as Hagrid passed him by like a train. "For Dumbledore!" Hagrid shouted his battle cry and lunged at Havoc. Havoc dodged aside and felt the blade bounce against his side, sparks flying. Hagrid was surprised how swift his opponent was and wasn't quick enough to regain his footing for another attack. Havoc sent his fist down upon the half-giant's neck and struck home. Hagrid let out a cry of pain and fell on his stomach.

Havoc knew the hit wasn't enough to knock Hagrid unconscious. He pointed his open palm and poured chains to wrap around the former groundskeeper. Hagrid resisted the crushing embrace of the chains but was quickly drained of any strength he had left. Draco ran over to the two fighters.

"Was Hagrid trying to kill me?" Draco asked, slightly panting. Havoc shook his head, "He saw me. He was probably trying to first save you before he decided to try and run me through."

"Damn you..." Hagrid cursed from his position on the floor. Havoc was getting tired of picking up people like stray cats. He took the end of the chain and dragged Hagrid to the portal.

* * *

><p>Rex finished taking off his armor and placing it on the rack he had ordered to be brought to his room. He observed the statue he made and nodded, he liked it very much. He could hear a door slam shut and felt a tinge of annoyance come from Havoc. Hearing his stomach grumble, he deduced that some food would be great.<p>

He went down the staircase and saw Draco sitting at the long table, a locket in his hand. Rex sat down opposite of him and he could see Draco's shock when he was noticed. "Oh." Draco murmured when he regained his composure. Rex observed the teen's reaction, was it his face? He called a minion to bring him a mirror.

The minion brought a large broken piece of a mirror, but it was enough. He was shocked to see he looked young like he was in his thirties. His eyes were a piercing red, surrounded by fair and noble features. There was a scar that marred his handsome visage, it was a crack from his left eyebrow and disappeared in the brown hairline. His nose was not niether small nor big and thin lips were pursed beneath. It dawned on him that he didn't see his face ever since that fall.

"You never saw your face?" Draco asked. Rex put down the shard and absent mindedly ate his food. "No, I have not.". The blonde tapped the locket with his finger, feeling rather awkward.

Rex suddenly stood up. "Follow me." he ordered Draco and went towards the right staircase down. It took Draco a minute or so to realize what just happened and ran down the stairs. He passed through a circular room with a botomless pit in the middle and descended down more steps until he stepped on dirt and sand. He was caught entirely by surprise of how expansive the chamber was. It resembled a roman arena with arches above the stone banks where the spectators would sit and cheer for blood. In the middle of the sand-covered pit Rex awaited him with a sword resting on his shoulder.

"If you want to help him in his revenge, you must learn how to fight," Rex began. "Take a weapon and put on the gloves." Rex pointed at a rack not far from Draco. He walked over to the rack. It had various weapons from a huge hammer with the maul size of his head to a small dagger. He decided to pick the middle and took a bastard sword. It was heavy; too heavy for him to lift it at all.

"I can't lift it, it's too heavy." Draco said in almost a whine but he dared not to admit it. "That's what the gloves are for."

Draco let the sword fall on the ground and put on the gloves. They were simple leather gloves with metal strands woven into the fingers. Draco then atempted to lift the sword up and he did, rather easily even. "Woah," Draco exclaimed despite himself.

"Now come here." Rex yelled from the center. Draco slightly dragged the sword over to Rex. He had a faint idea he would be having a sparing session with Rex. Rex swung his sword with such force yet with good precision that Draco barely managed to block the blade from ending up in his head. "Hey! You trying to kill me!" Draco shouted.

Rex remained silent and swung again now even faster and more brutal. It was heading towards his sides. Draco blocked it with the flat side of his sword and pushed the offending metal away and went in for a counter-attack, lunging and aiming for the soft tissue of the gut. With unparalleled speed Rex hit Draco's sword and sent it flying. Draco slightly yelped as the handle he was so rigidly holding onto disappeared out of his grasp. He was about to fall on his back when Rex caught his hand and held him from falling. "Tha-" Draco was about to thank Rex when the latter let go of his hand and let him fall flat on his back.

Draco angrily picked himself off the floor and started yelling at Rex. The overlord simply stared at the teen, his face impassive and rather blank. After a whole minute of ear-numbing shouting Draco was panting. "You done?"

Draco raised his hand and caught his breath. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Then pick up the sword and let's continue."

After a good half hour of Draco swinging his sword like it was a club and Rex blocking with ease did they decide to stop. Draco was panting on the floor and almost drained a bucket-load of water. Rex looked like he didn't even break a sweat, a faint smile played on his thin lips. He found this experience rather nice.

"What are you smiling at?" Draco growled. Rex saw slight resemblance to Havoc in the blonde. He wondered how will Havoc keep Draco in love with him while not really showing it? Rex doubted that Havoc would actually kiss the boy to keep him happy, or would he? There was so much manipulative potential in Havoc that it made even Rex shiver.

"Just remembering something." Rex answered simply. Draco's brows furrowed in thought. "You aren't from here, are you?"

Rex then looked at the blonde with an impassive face. "No, I am not. I've ruled an entire dimension before I arrived here. I come from a world far different than yours, in technological terms that is.". Rex then noticed a cohort of minions around a utterly confused Lucius Malfoy. "We managed to bring your father from our attack."

Draco instantly stood up and ran towards his father. Lucius wanted to run aswell but the minions held a good grip on him despite being high as his shin. The minions separated like a brown sea when Draco approached and let him come close to his father.

"Draco!" Lucius cried and embraced his son. He felt like he hasn't seen Draco a whole eternity. He was so sick with worry when Hogwarts fell that Voldemort was thinking of rising his spirits up with double the amount of _Crucio_. Hugging his son was the only reason he lived for now.

"Father!" Draco cried aswell. He was so flabbergasted by all that has been happening that he completely forgot Harry and Rex went and attacked his former home. He backed away a bit and saw Lucius' conerned face. "Has been that man hurting you?" Lucius noticed a bruise or two on Draco's pale hands and face. Draco shook his head and smiled at his father,

"No. I have been safe the whole time." Draco said. Rex walked over with his sword still in hand. Lucius quickly put Draco behind him and almost snarled at the approaching man. Rex stopped and raised a noble eyebrow.

"Father, don't. He won't hurt us." Draco said from behind his father. Lucius still didn't move. "If a single hair was out of place on my son's head, I-"

"You will what? Your son is the reason you are still breathing." Rex spoke with a voice absent of emotion. He ordered the minions to leave the two alone and left the arena.

* * *

><p>Havoc was lazily lounging on his throne with his feet splayed over the armrest. He was dressed in one of the black undershirts usually knitted into the inner side of the armor along with jeans and his old shoes. "I assume you are the one who orchestrated the touching reunion od father and son." Rex stated and sat on the throne next to Havoc. Havoc snorted in response. "Saw you trying to teach Draco how to fight."<p>

Rex nodded. "With a little more practice, he would make a competent fighter.". He found a gray strand of hair and felt it in his fingers. It was soft and he picked up another strand and then another until he had a good fistful in his hand. "What are you doing?" Havoc asked. He was practically lying over the throne with his head placed on the armrest. Rex felt the hair once more before letting it fall.

"What will you do about the pale man?" Rex asked evading Havoc's question. He felt embarrased that he actually did something like that. Those feelings were something he shouldn't be harboring, but he did despite that.

"Something has been bugging me when we came back from the manor. Voldemort wasn't aware that Dumbledore was dead. You would think that with such hatred towards Dumbledore, he would have kept a close eye on him. Peculiar." Havoc rubbed his head in slight annoyance.

The two overlords sat there in silence. Rex was listening to Havoc's breathing and Havoc was listening to Rex's breathing. Slowly they started to breathe in unison. Both of them found it relaxing, their bodies softening and forgeting the rigors of battle. It brought fond memories to Rex when he spent his rare moments of comfort with Rose. Havoc on the other hand has never felt this kind of tranquility and was savoring it. Havoc's hand on it's own slithered over to lay on Rex's, their pulses synchronizing aswell.

Rex didn't notice Havoc's hand on his nor that their hearts beat as one. The Tower Heart has created something remarkable. In it's mission to preserve and maintain the _Pristi_ legacy Arthur and older had created it will create a new world.

Draco and Lucius with a guarding squad of minions stumbled upon the scene. Lucius raised an eyebrow while Draco's heart sunk. He was such a fool, of course Harry didn't truly love him. He did suspect it but he was too caught up in the middle of things that he didn't notice the coldness. Now Draco had no clue why did Harry turn him into a _Pristi_, was it because he liked him or... He shook his head. Harry saved his father from certain death and he was grateful for that.

He stamped out his rising anger of being cheated, ridiculed and cast away. They were petty emotions a Malfoy would never consider worthwhile to both show and utilize. Draco understood the pain Harry went through his entire life, he understood why he jumped. The only thing Draco could now feel for Harry is pity.

"Father. I am one of them. Harry turned me into one of them. If the things they told me were true, we could be a part in something great that will change the world for the better." Draco spoke, his eyes on the two hands that are now entwined. "It was Harry that saved me. He actually held the killing curse in his palm. He told me the only reason he saved me because you were still alive. I have to admit that if you were dead, I really would have no reason to live anymore." Lucius said and held Draco's head against his chest and looked at the sleeping _Pristi_. He owed everything to them and would go to the edge of the world to repay that debt. He saw the sad face Draco failed to hide, he knew that his son was in love with Harry which was crystal clear when the boy jumped into that hole. He gave a reassuring smile.

"Let's leave these two alone." Lucius wisely said and followed Draco to what will be his bedroom for the time being. And possibly see Draco demonstrate his new abilities.

* * *

><p>Something poked him. Then nothing. Something poked him again. He slapped the poking object away and returned back to sleep. The blasted thing poked him again and Havoc was forced to open his eyes and see who was disturbing his sleep.<p>

Two familiar yellow eyes held apprehension. Havoc yawned and stretched. He heard a groan come from somewhere behind him. Havoc turned and was an inch away from Rex's face. He yelped and slid down out of Rex's lap, hoping the man wouldn't wake up and see that he was sleeping in his lap.

"Ahem." Rip coughed from behind and Havoc swiftly turned and gave the minion his attention. "The _Dark Lord_ has awakened." Rip spat the tittle like it was poison. Havoc chuckled and followed the minion master to the dungeon.

Havoc expected the dungeon to smell far worse than it did. The lack of occupants has done wonders in the scent department leaving only the annoying smell of dust and old. He also expected that Voldemort would be kept in one of the cells but Rip passed them all and stopped at a door which had glowing runes inscribed into it. Havoc noticed far back the sleeping form of Hagrid.

"You weren't thinking we would incarcerate such a potent wizard in a simple cell?" Rip sounded smug. Havoc wasn't about to admit he was wrong. The minion master opened the door and let Havoc come in first. Voldemort was sitting in what looked like a birdcage hanging by a chain attached to the ceiling Havoc couldn't see from the darkness above. There was atleast twenty birdcages set in rows of four in the chamber. The many rooms in Hogwarts will never cease to amaze him.

Voldemort's face held anger that if Havoc didn't know better would melt him. Havoc rubbed his chin, "You are in quite a situation."

"Unfortunately so. I thought I have seen the last of your face the day you jumped." Voldemort's tone was low and brisk. The red eyes glew with malice. Havoc simply raised an eyebrow. "So. Let's continue from where we left of."

"Victims. Yes. Would it be hard for you to believe we both have been deceived and cheated?" Voldemort hissed and stood up from his chair. "Explain."

"Gladly. There is a prophecy, and the stars of it are you and me." Voldemort raised his hands theatrically. "Hidden deep in the Ministry of Magic. Half of it was enough to send me into a search and destroy mission. My equal would be born as the seventh moon dies."

"I was a fool. To believe something that was conveniently overheard. I was the puppet and Dumbledore was the puppetier. The only reason I can think off for such plans is an ancient feud between your kind and mine." Voldemort finished and sat back down. A smug smirk was on his lips.

"And once again I was played. He fled underneath my nose. I have only realized that after you barged in and said it."

Havoc was flabbergasted by what Voldemort just said. Should he trust what Voldemort said? What Havoc saw in Dumbledore's memory, he did let Voldemort get to him and his parents. That much was certain. But to believe this? Havoc wasn't sure.

Voldemort easily saw the distress he just instigated in the teen and grinned maliciously. But then it faded away as he remembered the reason he was so easily captured. One of his horcruxes has been destroyed and someone out there knows what they are doing. If he didn't get out of this bloody cage soon, he was afraid that his life would be forfeit. Unless he enlisted the aid of Potter which in of itself would mean he was going mental. Death or a life of servitude, no good alternative.

He doubted that his Death Eaters are competent enough to free him of this prison or even aware where he is. He could use the Dark Mark but would send his men into a slaughterhouse. Not that he didn't mind but by doing so he would preety much destroy every chance he has of furthering his plans. Check.

"Mate." Rip said with a grin and Voldemort was having a hard time controling the smug mask he had put on. That gremlin read his mind? Voldemort mentaly slapped himself. He didn't put any shields up at all.

Havoc shook his head to get out of his stupor, "You said something, Rip?". The minion master shook his head. "Close the door on your way out, Sire." Rip left the chamber leaving Havoc and Voldemort alone. Havoc then took one glance at Voldemort before leaving the chamber and closing the door.

Havoc couldn't hear the angry screams that filled the chamber he just left.

Rex gave nary a glance Havoc's way when Havoc entered the throne room. Rex was eating fried eggs and sizzling bacon to which he has taken a liking to. Havoc sat down opposite of Rex on the dining table. Havoc was bursting with the need to tell someone everything he just heard but Rex would simply shrug and give no opinion and Rip wasn't really in the position to discuss it with him, too.

"Sire Rex, I think it would be a smart thing to do to tell Sire Havoc what Arthur told you." Rip recommended and quickly disappeared down a set of stairs. Rex met Havoc's intense gaze.

"Arthur told you something?" Rex expected Havoc to growl or something similar but the teen was calm and Rex didn't catch any negative emotion. He began retelling what he saw and was told when his consciousness was within the Tower Heart.

Havoc listened intently and seemed relived when Rex finished. A small smile graced Havoc's lips and Rex found himself staring. Havoc caught the stare and smiled even brightly. "You like it when I smile?"

Rex was then assailed by a cough attack. "I like no such thing." Rex replied between coughs. Havoc started laughing and almost fell off the bench while holding his stomach. Rex wiped his mouth and suddenly longed for the safety the helmet gave him. Havoc's gaze lingered on the man's for a second or two before concentrating on other matters.

"Dumbledore is still alive and out there. But I have no clue where he might be." Havoc spoke and then rose from his seat with a grin. "Hagrid."

The cell door squealed as it opened and Hagrid snorted and grumbled as he awoke from his uneasy slumber. The half-giant rubbed his neck that is still sore from the hit Havoc dealt him. Havoc snapped his fingers and the torch of the cell lit up, illuminating the rather small room. He decided to wear his gauntlets just in case if Hagrid wanted a rematch. Havoc would gladly indulge him if he did.

Hagrid shook his head and looked at his visitor. His eyes went wide and he smacked himself to make sure he was seeing straight. "Is that you, Harry?"

Havoc sat on the stool which was far too small if the giant ever decided to use it and graced his former friend with a smile. "By Merlin' beard. Yer alive!" Hagrid was so happy that he stood up a bit too fast and hit his head on the ceiling, the cells weren't made for half-giants.

Havoc hissed. "Yes, I'm alive and well.". Hagrid rubbed his head and sat back down on the protesting cot. "What are ye doing here? Everyone thought ye were dead when they couldn't find the body." Hagrid's smile vanished.

"Hagrid, do you know what has been going on for the past three weeks?" Havoc asked. Hagrid's brows furrowed in confusion. "Hogwarts was attacked by som kind of knights. Then them Death Eaters came and kidnapped Dumbledore. I have never seen a more darker time." Hagrid shook his head. "But I can't get through me head of how are you alive?"

"What are you doing here?" Havoc evaded Hagrid's question. Hagrid rubbed his head in a nervous tick, Hagrid always had one when he was keeping a secret when asked about one or anything having any connection to it. "Now, I can't tell you that. Dumbledore's orders.". Havoc had a feeling Hagrid would say that and he had no way of coaxing it out of him. He hated to resort to this method but it proved rather effective.

Hagrid looked as Havoc cut his palm with a dagger and was caught by surprise when the bloody palm slammed into his forehead. Hagrid saw strands of what he deduced where thoughts. Two black strands flowed through his vision and followed one strand of thought. It was the one with his most recent memories. The strands briefly latched on every node before receding back. Hagrid found himself struggling for breath when the contact between him and Havoc was broken.

"What in the hell." Hagrid managed after a good minute. "Sorry to have to do this to you, Hagrid. You've always been a good friend but I can't let you out right now." Havoc softly spoke and left the cell. The minions closed the door behind him. Hagrid's face appeared at the barred window in the door, "Harry! Where are ye goin'? It's dangerous out there!"

"Not as much as it is for you." Havoc whispered.

When Havoc returned back from the dungeons he saw Draco and Lucius eating breakfast while Rex was reading the Daily Prophet. He took off his gloves and put them on the table. The situation was rather peculier. Draco was the first to break the silence, "What's wrong?"

Havoc ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair, "Dumbledore is still alive and he sent Hagrid to destroy a diadem of sorts.".

"Hagrid told you straight up?" Draco said through full mouth and earned a glare from his father who ate with proper etiquete. "Had to search his mind through a blood connection. The problem is that Dumbledore said almost nothing to Hagrid and just told him to use the sword of Gryffindor to break a diadem."

Draco swallowed, "So that must have been it what Hagrid swung at. He did it not long before you two came back.". Havoc perked up at that, his mind's gears whirring. It was morning and Havoc already felt tired and placed his head on the table. "Hey, we didn't see Narcissa back at the manor."

Lucius swallowed. "Narcissa..." Draco stopped short. "Narcissa is dead." Lucius said flatly and Draco glared at his father for being so cold. "Oh." Havoc may be growing up into an evil bastard but death of a mother and wife must be harsh. "Her own sister murdered her in an argument. Such a horrible way to die."

Effectively killing the mood, the three sat in silence. Draco lost his appetite and was playing with his food. Havoc offered his hand but Draco refused it. Havoc's eyebrow went up before he realized what was happening. Well, his charade was over. It was good while it lasted. Draco saw him with Rex when he fell asleep on the throne. But the fact that Draco stuck around said that he was still on his side. Even if he wasn't Havoc would easily find out.

Draco stood up abruptly and went over to Rex. The older man lifted his gaze from the newspaper and nodded a few times before folding the paper and leading Draco down the stairs towards the arena.

Lucius stood up, his eyes flaring with anger. "How dare you use my son's feelings for you like that?!". It was an outrage! Nobody fooled a Malfoy on such a level and gets away with it. Havoc stood up to meet Lucius' gaze. "I will use anyone to achieve my revenge, be it Draco or anyone else. While Draco was growing a spine, I was fending of the Dark Lord; he doesen't deserve my respect or love. Until he joins me on the battlefield and rises with me after it all, then he will earn my respect." with an air of finality Havoc closed the conversation and sat back down with his head slightly spinning.

Lucius sat down aswell. This wasn't Harry Potter a year ago. This is someone who had a determined goal and would do anything to achieve it. He once looked into those eyes, yes, but they were blood-red. Him being a pureblood gave him access to hidden knowledge and the Malfoy library only held small scripts about them; like they were meant to be gone from the world.

Havoc made the connection between Voldemort and the diadem but he knew too little to find out what connected them.

* * *

><p>"Master! Where have you been taken, master!?" it screamed in anguish for it's master. Nagini cursed the knights that have taken her master away. She slithered through the frantic Death Eaters who were searching high and low for the Dark Lord. Stupid humans, Nagini thought.<p>

She slithered out into the garden filled with bodies. The once green grass was now red and the entire garden was destroyed. The attackers layed waste to the whole Malfoy manor. Nagini continued past the artifical cliffs and into the woods. She was hopeless, her master was silent and didn't reply to her calls. Where has he gone?

"Get it!" someone yelled from behind Nagini. She quickly turned and lunged at the owner of the voice. Her fangs bit flesh and drew blood. She quickly retracted and bit again and again. The man's screams were music to her ears. She went on bitting the man until she was stopped by a spell coming from behind. It was a cutting spell and her head flew into the air. In those last moments of her life she only thought about her master.

* * *

><p>Voldemort woke up on the floor of the cage. One more horcrux has been destroyed. Years of study and work were gone with the wind in just two days! What kind of misfortune has befallen him? He was running out of time. He hated to admit it but he was becoming desperate. Even terrified when he thought about it more. He slapped himself, the Dark Lord fears nothing. He transcended death itself!<p>

That fact will soon cease to be true if he remains in this god-forsaken dungeon. The door creaked open and Voldemort quickly stood up, gritting his teeth for being caught in such a position. A tray of food was lifted up to his cage by a long stick with a hook on the end. He may be immortal but that didn't mean he didn't require sustenance. The food was rather good and considering it Voldemort concluded it was breakfast.

The door was about to close when Voldemort swallowed his pride along with the food and called, "I wish to speak with Potter.". The door closed and Voldemort hoped to some degree they didn't hear him.

It didn't take long until Havoc payed a visit to his favourite prisoner. Havoc yawned and stretched, not really caring if it is indecent or not while infront of someone. "It's Havoc."

"What?" Voldemort uncharacteristically asked. Havoc repeated, "Name's Havoc.". How queer. Voldemort was going mental calling for Havoc.

"The reason I called is because I am in a very difficult position." Voldemort couldn't believe this was happening. "I have achieved immortality, as you must have realized, through splitting my soul into pieces and storing those said pieces into artifacts and anchoring my soul to this world without needing a body." He would have felt preety smug if he was explaining this while Havoc was groveling at his feet and that he would then proceed torturing him till death. But such was not the case. Unfortunately.

It took a minute for the information to sink in. "A diadem Hagrid destroyed had a piece of your soul inside?" Havoc asked. He had a feeling the Dark Lord was pulling his leg.

Voldemort was reluctant to nod. Atleast he now knew which one was destroyed but how did Hagrid destroy it? Few spells and objects were powerful enough to destroy a horcrux and he doubted Hagrid was capable of procuring either unless Dumbledore showed him how. That old geezer was a thorn ever since he attended this blasted school.

"So somebody is destroying them? How kind of you to inform me of your predicament." Havoc drawled, enjoying every moment of it. With this information he has Voldemort in his grasp indefinetly. "Dumbledore also knows about the artifacts which I assume you have realised by now. All we have to do now is locate him and finish him off." Havoc finished. He wished it would have been even easier than saying.

"I will keep you in your cage for a little while longer. I have a feeling you are getting used to it." Havoc winked and left the chamber. This time he left the door open just a crack and enjoyed the scream.

Rip met Havoc halfway on the staircase. "Sire, the ministry is at the gates. Lord Rex has already left to meet the officials." Havoc gratefully nodded and went to put his armor on. Havoc sometimes wondered how would this place run itself without Rip. The minion was just amazing.

Rex looked at the fifty or so Aurors standing at the entrance to Hogwarts and their representative, a black Auror of soft speech, was at the head of the coloumn. Rex could see that the man before him was of noble stature, wise mind and great power. If it came to a fight he would be glad to fight with this man.

"By the order of Minister Cornelius Fudge you are under arrest on the accounts of terrorism, murder and violation of sixty magical laws." the black Auror read from a piece of parchment.

"And what if I ressist arrest?" Rex jokingly asked and got a firm response, "Then we would be forced to either incapacitate or, if need be, kill you."

Rex gripped the handle of his claymore on his back when Havoc appeared behind him from a small stone platform that sunk back into the ground. The Aurors were visibly surprised to see another one appear. A wave of slight fear spread over the collumn.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Havoc asked in a joking mood. The Auror was not impressed at the nochalant approach. "Will you come peacefuly?"

"We don't feel like going anywhere. I suggest you go back to the Ministry because I don't really want to cut down fifty of you. Too much work." Havoc yawned, still not fully awake. But he was up for a morning exercise.

The fifty or so Aurors drew their wands and found that the two knights were gone. Kingsley looked around and was horrified to see them at the back of the collumn. He was about to warn them but the slaughter had already begun. Men screamed as they were cut in two or had their arms and legs cut off by huge blades. It was a brutal sight.

Havoc swung his sword and embbeded it in one of the Auror's head and spun to relieve the blade from it's position and decapitated the next one. Rex on the other side cut two men in half at the same time with his long claymore. The collumn was in such a bad position that only the one in front of them could fire spells without risk to hit their comrades and the two overlords were intending to use that advantage to it's fullest. In the first two minutes the collumn was cut down in half.

The front dispersed and was now able to fire spells aswell. Havoc stabbed his sword into the ground and formed a huge ball of fire between his hands and let it loose on the left flank of the front. Body parts and men on fire flew into the air. Another explosion hit the right flank aswell. Then Havoc and Rex continued to cut down everyone in their path like a shredder.

Spells hit Havoc left and right but he managed to keep his focus up to absorb any projectile close to him until he could barely feel it connect. He heard gunshots erupt to his left and saw Rex utilizing his wrist-mounted gun to pick off Aurors on the right flank. Havoc sent rays of energy through the unprepared Aurors.

A few minutes later the collumn was entirely decimated. Wounded men groaned and screamed as they were bleeding out on the blood-covered snow. Kingsley Shacklebolt was holding his wounded arm which sported a gaping hole. Rex and Havoc, both drenched in blood, approached the last man standing of the fifty man force. "No man possesses such power. I fear we have little chance against you, _Pristi_." Kingsley admited. His eyes traveled across the blood-soaked path.

"I have a feeling we've just killed an entire department." Havoc fooed and shook the blood off his hands. It was a dirty job, but he liked it. "You give respect where it is worth, what's your name?" Rex asked.

"Kingsley, Kingsley Shacklebolt." Kingsley strained out. "Well then. What I want you to do is go to the Ministry and tell our good ol' Fudge that his arse is mine." Rex chuckled at that. He enjoyed the colourful expressions Havoc sometimes displayed.

Kingsley nodded. He took one last look at his dying comrades and wished he could help them but it was unlikely the two knights would be merciful enough for him to send healers. Then he reluctantly Apparated to the Ministry.

* * *

><p>Rex sighed as he lounged in the basin. The blood seeped through the holes in the armor and almost drenched him and a bath was and urgent matter. A mist of red spread out around him. He closed his eyes and felt rising giddines in his stomach. He frowned.<p>

That wasn't him. What was Havoc up to? As if sensing his wonder someone started to run straight for him. A shadow past over his closed eyelids and splashed into the center of the basin. A wave slapped Rex in the face and forced him to open his eyes in anger.

The water surface calmed down and was again distrubed by a burst. Rex, unfortunately, saw a lithe naked form that revealed too much jump out of the water. A dazzling smile graced Havoc's face that Rex, if he was not angry right now, would do something very unwise.

"A man can't bathe in peace." Rex grumbled loud enough for Havoc to hear. He grabbed the towel he put on the edge of the basin and hastily wrapped it around his waist, making sure Havoc didn't see anything.

Rex didn't see the smile fade into a frown. He got out of the basin and left the room. In his frustration he failed to see two white eyes watching him from the dark corner of the hall.

Havoc's face was marred by a scowl. He was barely restraining himself from shouting such obscenites that he would make a hooker ashamed. With a growl he waded over to the opposite side and slided into the water, while holding himself up with his hands on the edge. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth.

Draco slowly entered the room and stopped. His eyes quickly found Havoc. A red mist spread around Havoc and made him look like a demon, a smoking hot demon. Wet raven hair stuck to his face and neck, contrast to the pale skin.

He silently walked around the edge until he was right above Havoc. The teen still hasn't noticed him yet. Draco raised his bastard-sword above his head. He has had enough of the suffering he felt since fourth year. When Harry jumped he had come to terms with his feelings and started to live normaly until he came back, and ruined everything. He played with him and his feelings and he was out of strenght to cope with them. It had to end.

He sent the sword down but his grip slackened and the sword fell into the basin with a splash. Havoc's eyes opened and Draco could see confusion in them before realization dawned. Havoc was quickly out of the basin and in a fighting stance. Draco would be blushing along with Havoc if the situation wasn't so horrible.

Draco fell on his knees and covered his face. "Kill me. Please kill me." he pleaded. The pain was too much. The knowledge that his love would never be returned made it unbearable. He shuddered as slender arms wrapped around him. Wet hair tickled his cheeks and brow.

"I can't kill you, your father would have my head." Draco felt the warm breath blow against his ear. He kept his eyes closed tight and held in rising sobs in his throat. "You were such a git to me for so long, I just reacted like that. The resentment and rivalry are still fresh, Draco." Havoc's voice was firm but yet comforting. "If we are gonna fight together I have to be honest with you; I will never love you the way you love me." Draco momentarily lost control and let out a gasp. The arms pulled him closer until he could feel the wet body against him but he kept his eyes shut. "Harsh, isn't it? Not being loved. That's how I've felt every single moment of my life.". The arms disappeared and the body was gone. He felt strangely cold.

"Now c'mon. I don't want to stay here all day with you crying. If getting back taught me anything is not crying over the past. Only taking vengeance." Draco dared to open his eyes and was rewarded with the brightest and devilish smile ever. Havoc extended his hand and was glad when Draco took it. "You emotional git. You're worse than a girl sometimes." Havoc snorted and enjoyed the snarl coming from Draco.

Draco may never get over the fact that he would never have him. But Havoc meant what he said and hoped the blond would find it enough to be comrades with him. It would be foolish to think this conversation solved everything, Havoc knew he would have to work a long way until the blond would feel completely happy again.

"You know you are naked, right?" Draco said with the trademark Malfoy smirk. Havoc's cheeks turned beet red. Havoc slapped Draco and ran off for his clothes he stupidly left on the other end of the room. He felt hungry eyes settle on his backside and shot a glare Draco's way while putting on his boksers. Draco looked away but the blush on his face betrayed him.

"That will be the last you will ever see of my arse, ever again." Havoc hissed. Draco smirked in return. "Reserving it for Rex?"

Havoc almost choked while Draco laughed for the first time in ages. Draco walked over and draped a hand over Havoc's shoulders which was quickly shrugged off. "Can't believe I'm gonna listen to your orders."

* * *

><p>"You really are stupid as you look!" Carlyle exclaimed as he hurried to rebind the bleeding wounds of his comrade. "Shaddap!" came Jorgen's response. The blasted snake took a good chunk out of him before Zoran had the nuts and do something. The three men were illuminated by a campfire. Carlyle was a thin man with fingers that worked so finely they rivaled even the most competent weaver. The long face was set determined to get the bandages and powders on the wounds as best as possible.<p>

Zoran was handing Carlyle the various medical supplies from the first aid kit they always carried with them. The fire was reflected off his smooth bald head and a easy-going expression didn't give way to the feelings of fear for his friend.

Jorgen on the other hand was a man with such a beard that when people saw him thought he had a dwarf ancestor who got lucky with a witch. He was of a slightly below-average stature and untamed hair. A painful expression on his face didn't help his good looks. Carlyle was convinced that Jorgen was indeed half-dwarf, normal men wouldn't survive a poison such as this even with his help for two days.

"What kind of poison is that?" Jorgen croaked, asking the same question Carlyle has been wracking his brain about for these two days. He felt like his entire body was burning. Carlyle worriedly looked at his friend. "Zoran, I think we should get him to St. Mungo's. I can't counteract this kind of poison."

Zoran dropped the stick he was nervously handling. "We can't do that! We are stuck in this forest because we can't show ourselves." the bald man hissed. Carlyle stood up. "Well, we can't leave him like this! If he doesen't get help soon, he will die! Besides! He shouldn't even be involved in this."

"Now, hold on there for one minute!" Jorgen slurred. "Ye ain't gonna leave me in no hospital!". Zoran rubbed his head in frustration. How did it all go so horribly wrong? They were hunting for food when they heard the noises coming from the nearby rich manor. Zoran went over to look but couldn't see much. Coming any close than then felt to Zoran like suicide. Finding that snake slithering around looked like a god send.

Zoran checked the spit over the fire and deemed the meat sufficiently crispy for eating. He ignored Carlyle and brought some food to Jorgen. Jorgen was a fascinating man. He always talked about Norway and how they had six months day and six months night. Sometimes he just wouldn't shut up about it.

Zoran himself was from Croatia and sometimes struggled with English. The rising problems there along with the cause why him and Carlyle and sticking together drove him all the way to England. He was a skilled hunter and knew some magic to be able to survive in the woods which were presumably empty of people up in Scotland.

Carlyle said he came from a family of healers that worked at St. Mungo's for centuries. Carlyle was a proficient Healer in his field when it all started and forced him to go into hiding until he ended up stumbling upon Zoran and Jorgen. What Carlyle understood, Jorgen was helping them despite being a wizard because "For the heck of it!" as Jorgen liked to say.

"Zoran. If you won't do anything, then I will." Carlyle glared at Zoran who was chewing the unsavory meat. Zoran spat out the food and stood up. "I'm gonna leave him at St. Mungo's. You just make sure I have someting to go back to." Zoran said with a heavy accent and helped Jorgen on his feet. The smaller man was slowly drifting to sleep. Zoran was glad he had the time to learn Apparation before leaving the country in a hurry.

"I'll keep the fire up." Carlyle said and watched his two friends disappear in a blurr of motion.

* * *

><p>New characters are needed to spice things up. The plot thickens and strangers are hiding in the woods?<p>

I wrote a bit soft Draco at the end but atleast he tried to murder Havoc, that counts for something, right?


	11. Flesh and Blood

**Chapter 10 has arrived! I've been wrestling with this beast for two days, constantly rewriting whole sections at a time until I got it somewhat right.**

**Your lack of any feedback makes me feel I'm doing a horrible job, I hope it isn't like that. Although this chapter isn't my best one in my opinion.**

**Anyway, read on!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 10<p>

Flesh and Blood

"We aren't far now. Just try to walk normal." Zoran held Jorgen as stiffly as he could to make them look inconspicuous in the still busy street of London. Zoran forgoed robes and all because that just screamed 'I am over here!' the whole time and usually wore down-trodden sweatpants and a black winter jacket with a hood.

Carlyle told him about the strange predicament the healing establishment was put in. Having no space to put it in Diagon Alley, they too refused putting it underground because it was unhealthy so they agreed to put it under the muggle's noses.

Zoran was in a dillema should he be happy or scared to be going so near a hotspot of wizards but a glance at Jorgen's face dispelled his doubts. He was glad to see the red-bricked department store with the name Purge and Dowse Ltd.

They stopped at one of the windows with a mannequin inside. The mannequin suddenly sprung to life. "Welcome to St. Mungo's. How can we help you?"

"This man was bit by a large snake. It looked to be venemous and he needs help fast." Zoran spoke with urgency in his tone. "Please enter." the mannequin spoke. "Sorry friend." Zoran said and pushed Jorgen into the window and quickly Apparated back to their camp.

"Hello, brother." came a silky response. Zoran stiffened and turned around. Carlyle was sitting on the ground beside the campfire with a rapier dangerously close to his juggular.

Zoran took a deep breath, "Kristina."

* * *

><p>Havoc spat blood on the sand and bared crimson teeth to the crowd. Minions roared and cheered for their master from their seats around the pit. Rex was watching with feigned weak interest. He wouldn't give Havoc the satisfaction of seeing him actively furthering the bond. Their spontaneous acts of closeness were enough for him.<p>

Like a pet Voldemort was chained to the throne with a collar around his neck. He should consider himself lucky for having a golden one around his neck. His red eyes burned and the ground around him vibrated. How vile, Voldemort thought, must Havoc act like an animal? He thought the boy had more brains than that but seems he was sorely mistaken. He then felt a firm tug on his neck, the damn collar was too tight.

"Calm down, wizard." Rex warned without a glance towards Voldemort. Voldemort scowled at the man. Insolent wretch! The ground vibrated again and got a more stronger tug in return. "You are fiesty for someone your age, wizard." Rex said and removed his eyes from the darting form that is Havoc fighting a gray warthog that faded in and out of view and focused his gaze on the Dark Lord. His gaze was unwavering, cold and stern and made Voldemort unsteady. Nobody has ever met his eyes and held indifference towards him. Voldemort doubted it came from arrogance and that is what scared him.

"Arthur was right, you wizards are such weak and petty creatures. You consider yourselves to be above all else? How foolish. I have learned to respect the very thing you wield. Your kind will dry out and die while 'muggles' will take over." Rex leaned into Voldemort's face and reveled in the fact that the wizard was severly disturbed by what he said. "You are now a slave to Havoc. Since you are immortal, I have a feeling you will be one for an eternity."

Rex then promptly sat down back onto his seat and got back to enjoying Havoc narily dodge the warthog. The chain tightened in his grasp and Rex felt a determined gaze bore into the back of his head. He was starting to like this wizard. He had a semblance of a spine after all.

Voldemort stared at the back of the man's head but soon found his gaze drifting to the ensuing battle. He hated to admit it, but Havoc was a natural in combat. All _Pristi_ are, he scowled. His entire plans have been swept away by this coming of the ancient race, which should have been eradicated a long time ago. He couldn't believe Havoc was as purer of blood as he can possibly be!

"Rex!" someone called for Rex from the side. Voldemort and Rex found Draco heading towards them.

Voldemort never thought the younger Malfoy was here. What was he doing here? Potter was as soft of heart as usual. So predictable. He may be a _Pristi_, but he is still soft hearted. Must be the only reason why Voldemort was still alive and not tortured. Voldemort read many books and some were quite descriptive of the methods ancient wizards used descending from the Ancients. They even made him shiver.

Draco saw Voldemort and fear flashed across his face before the old Malfoy mask fell back in place. He discussed something in relative silence with Rex and Voldemort couldn't hear anything despite his proximity.

The blond's eyes sometimes went to him and showed such hatred that Voldemort started smirking. When the anger rose up inside Draco, his eyes started to glow white. Then he cracked and was upon the pale wizard in a snap.

"WHAT ARE YOU SMIRKING YOU FILTHY BASTARD!" Draco roared into Voldemort's face as he straddled him. His fist rose up and was about to send Voldemort into a world of hurt but a hand gripped it tightly. "Killing him now would be foolish. Havoc has a far worse fate in store for him than your fists." Rex pulled Draco off the man and held him to make sure he didn't pounce again. FIesty aswell.

"I will train you in those, yes. Now go and calm down." the overlord gently pushed Draco in the opposite direction of Voldemort and watched him until he disappeared. He paid no attention to the wizard sprawled on the ground and focused his attention on the squeals coming from below.

Havoc struggled to overturn the hog he managed to impale in the chest. The animal was struggling and blood flowed in gushes from the wound. Finally Havoc used the sword as a lever and flipped the animal onto it's back and twisted the sword inside. The hog stopped moving altogether and the arena resonated with the cheers of the minion crowd.

Havoc looked up and saw Rex clapping from his throne and beside him stood a very distraught Voldemort. He smirked and laughed when Voldemort realised he was showing emotion and returned the blank mask. With a sigh, he left the blood-soaked arena and up the stairs.

When Havoc entered the throne room he saw Draco holding his head in his hands and slightly shaking at the table. A minion brought him a towel and he walked over to the blond. "What happened?"

"Just went ballistic on Voldemort." Draco answered with gritted teeth. He couldn't believe he actually blew up like that. Such rage took over than he found himself pulled by Rex off of none other than the Dark Lord. His hand balled into fists as he remembered that bloody smirk.

"So, that's what the yelling was about. Well you did a fine job of making the bastard wet his pants." Havoc sheepishly spoke with a slight smile. Draco visibly calmed down at that. "Too bad you didn't watch. I think you would have enjoyed the blood shed." Draco's eyes widened. Havoc really was blood thirsty. And when he thought about it, maybe he would be blood thirsty too.

"I guess I would have." Draco silently said. He then noticed how dirty and bloodied Havoc was, his face scrunched up and Havoc looked at him in confusion. "What?"

Draco went with his finger all around him and Havoc looked at himself. Blood and sand has matted onto his shirt, some his and some of the hogs. The sight was enjoyable to say the least. Something about blood just called to him, or more specifically, his _Pristi _heritage. Must be the magic inside the blood. "You really should take a shower."

"Yeah, you're right." Havoc agreed and left Draco alone with a celebrating group of minions. A flaggon full of ale almost hit and splashed him on the head.

* * *

><p>"What is going on, Zoran?" Carlyle asked, his eyes not leaving the blade that is dangerously close to his neck. "Who-"<p>

"Šuti!" Kristina hissed in Croatian. "Why did you have to go to England of all places! You utterly blind of the goings on in this god-forsaken country?"

Zoran was confused. What was happening that his sister was sent to chase him down like a dog. His father said he wouldn't go after him if he decided to leave but to keep silent of what he truly is. Seems he backed out on his promise. It worked at first but suddenly the wizards and witches knew what he was and started chasing him.

"The English branch has turned up again. Rumors say that there are two Ovelords." Kristina spoke like it was a mundane thing to keep a sword just an inch away from someone's throat. "Overlords? Father never said anything about the English branch."

"That's because you didn't stick long enough for him to tell you!" his sister snapped. Her hair a deepest black with a high ponytail tied while leaving a few strands out of the band. She had tanned skin which made her look bronze in the fire light and slightly glowing yellow eyes.

"The entire Auror deprtment was wiped out when they went to arrest them. The wizards may be weak, but fifty or sixty men isn't something so easy to wipe out. One guy was left alive. One of them has some grudge for the Minister." Kristina raised her sword off Carlyle's shoulder and sat down on a log. "If we are lucky, they still haven't noticed you yet. We have to keep our existance secret as long as possible from them."

"Like I knew! I was too busy running away from crazy wizards and witches intent on killing me because I'm a _Pristi_!" Zoran crossed his arms in indignation. How was he supposed to know when being totally isolated from the world.

"You are ignorant, little brother. You always were. This time your ignorance could cause a civil war. As if the systemized genocide of our race caused by the lowborns wasn't enough." Kristina sheated her rapier back into it's sheath and put her elbows on her knees and steepled her fingers. "Father is afraid, Zoran. He is afraid for the continuation of our line, or any other that is currently barely surviving. We have no support from our minions, nor the respect of the magical realm. Now these idiots are putting our lives in jeopardy. The _Concil_ predicts that if this is let to go on, we would follow next." Kristina's tone was solemn. Zoran may be ignorant in many things, but only a braindead person would not be aware of the position their race is. Hidden amongst their prosecutors, hoping they do not find out who they are. That was one of the reasons why Zoran left. The woodlands of Scotland were the first thing Zoran thought about but there were far better places then this.

"I can't go back to living in hiding! Why do you think I left?!" Zoran yelled out his frustration. Kristina stood up. "Then what do you think you are doing now?! You're still living in hiding! With an English _Pristi_ at that!"

Carlyle couldn't hear the accent Kristina should have, but unlike Zoran she expertly hides it and if he didn't know she was Zoran's sister, he would have thought he was talking to an english woman. It was also surprising how people outside his country knew more what was happening than him. He guessed that is one of the cons while living outside the civilized world.

Zoran frowned. When his big sister wanted to level him down, she did it in an instant. "Why didn't we act sooner?". Kristina sat back down, pleased that Zoran calmed down a little, "The _Concil_ is having trouble in making a decision. While the majority wants to eliminate the threat, others think that the English branch must have a good reason, or enough power, to reveal themselves and wage a war. Honestly I think you English men are just insane." Kristina finished with a glance at Carlyle who frowned aswell.

"My family has nothing to do with this. They are all dead. Don't you dare accuse me or my ancestors for this." Carlyle stood up with grim determination. Kristina shrugged and paid no further attention to him.

"And how are they going to go about this?" Zoran never cared much about politics but his interest was piqued. Kristina shrugged again, "Father didn't say." Zoran's eyebrow went up. She may be his big sister, and more devious than him, but he lived long enough with her to learn the body language. The shrug, that glint in her eye and an eyebrow tick. She was lying. "You still think I am blind?"

"Perish the thought!" Kristina's face looked aghast. To think such things of her. "It is for your own good brother. You have a choice, go back home or you will not leave this forest alive."

"Father is threathening me?" Zoran asked. It was unlike for his sister to threathen someone. It was more like his father to do something like that. His fists balled up. He had the audacity to order his own duaghter to threathen his only son? Something Zoran hated about the nature of the _Pristi_.

"Yes." Kristina answerd. Her hand slipped close to her sheated weapon. Zoran saw her use it since she was a little girl. He didn't dare challenge his sister in a sword fight. "You've never been good in close combat. I dare say you are in check.". Like lightning the rapier flashed out of the sheath and into her hand. Carlyle stared flabbergasted at how quickly that sword was drawn.

"You would draw your sword on your own brother?" Carlyle sputtered. Kristina didn't acknowledge the englishman and kept her eye on her brother. "You are right. But if I return to Father, I am afraid I would not be welcome there anymore." Zoran kept that memory of the fight closed tightly in his head. It was the hardest one he had ever fought. He won a small victory that day, he won his life from his Father though he feared that it was only for a short while.

"Our Father really is a snake, isn't he?"

Kristina scowled. It wasn't because Zoran insulted their father, on the contrary, she would have joined in if she wasn't supposed to bring the rebel back home. The scowl was there because their Father was a cruel and the most despicable _Pristi_ that the _Concil_ even fears him somewhat. She wasn't surprised when it was their father to suggest the destruction of the English branch. If she wasn't loyal, she wouldn't even be here and pointing her sword at her sibling.

"True. But my loyalties lie with the family. Please, I don't wish to kill you. I could never forgive myself." The sad look in her eyes was genuine and Zoran couldn't help but stand down. It was pointless. Father knew that he had no chance against Kristina if he resisted, and if he didn't he wouldn't because he loved his sister too much. The manipulative bastard.

"What will happen to Carlyle?" the englishman was silent for the duration of the conversation and now perked up as the attention was directed at him. "You are a healer, am I correct?" Kristina asked politely. Carlyle nodded. "Then he will stay with me. Help me with what I have to do here." She sheathed her sword and her shoulders visibly relaxed. She tossed him an oval stone. "Our new manor is in Zadar. It has a huge beach not far, I hope Father will let you have a swim or two. So long, brother."

"How's in the homeland?

"Like cats and dogs, unfortunately."

Zoran nodded and took the stone which was actually a portkey. He felt a tug on his navel and disappeared. Carlyle looked at the spot where Zoran stood seconds prior. His parent's never told him of how murderous the others could be.

"Let's get a move on. We've wasted enough time here as it is."

* * *

><p>"When you want to do this, you have to be prepared. Set your mind on one purpose only and drive through. Got it?" Havoc asked as he played with a dagger in his hand. He threw it into the air absentmindedly and caught it always at the handle. Draco noticed Havoc was growing more and more into his heritage. Draco was a bit frustrated since there wasn't many books or anything that describe all the abilities of the <em>Pristi<em>. And he wasn't developing much but was starting to.

"Why are you teaching me this again?" Draco never liked the idea of spilling his own blood to achieve something. Havoc sighed but was clearly not of exasparation. "I find it quite handy and I think it's far superior to legilimency and all that crap. Less hassle and easier," Havoc caught the dagger on it's tip now and cut his finger. He ignored it and continued. "Plus I see potential for a mind fuck, literally."

Draco thought he was looking at evil incarnate as Havoc grinned. He hated his reaction to it. Havoc noticed the bothered expression. "Sorry, I shouldn't be wooing you like that."

Draco sputtered and waved his hands in alarm. "No! No!". Havoc laughed and then went back to business.

"We will first try on me, okay?" he gave the dagger to Draco and looked expectantly at the blond. Draco eyed the dagger. With a sigh he slided it several times over his palm until he had the courage to let the blade bite into his skin and draw blood. With a deep breath he pressed his palm against Havoc's warm forehead.

Draco's breath was stolen as he traveled through a vast expanse of strands, all connected to some distant knot. Small knots lined each strand like nodes. Draco could see his magic slither around but quickly retracted back and he found himself back in the real world, heaving.

"You didn't aim at all. If you were connecting with someone that was an enemy, I have no idea what could have happened to you. Try again." Draco regained his breath and found the blood-smeared face of Havoc arousing. He pressed again and let himself be sucked into the connection. This time he attached to the first strand that came his way and was horrified to see disturbing images he never really wanted to see his entire life. He quickly backed out and almost vomited on the floor.

Havoc wiped off the blood and hurried to help Draco up. "I didn't know." Draco managed. Those burns, cuts. That hatred and anger felt like a crushing force. A fire that couldn't be put out. Did they really hate him that much? Just because he was different? What kind of monsters did take care of him?

"How did you survive all that?"

"I just did. At some point my mind shut down and I didn't care what happened to my body. I don't feel like talking about that, okay." Havoc frowned. He didn't like remembering his times at the Dursley's. He saw the discomfort he was causing to Draco. He must be barely restraining himself from trying to hold him and comfort him. Havoc quickly changed the subject. "How do you like being a _Pristi_?"

Draco was glad also for the change of topic. "It's okay. I don't feel any different than before. I've been spending most of my time reading with my father on the history of the _Pristi_." Draco's face scrunched up, "It ain't preety."

"I believe you." Havoc cleaned the dagger with a napkin and put it on the table. "Is your father still angry at me?"

"A bit. But he doesen't understand why you did it. He doesen't know what I know about you. My year of suffering is nothing compared to your lifetime." Draco's eyes were caring although shadowed slightly by pain. That is the problem with the blood connection, the taker adopts those memories and information as their own along with the emotions attached to them.

"That is so mature of you." Havoc said and got a whack at the back of the head and a grin for a reward. He felt better when he hanged out like this, he regained a semblance of normalcy in his life on these moments far in between. "You know, I haven't been living my life until now." Draco began. "Those parties, having friends in high positions, friendships out of mutual benefit never appealed to me. I was disgusted by the attention people gave me just because I was my father's son. I want to people pay attention to me because I'm worth it. I know this life would be far more dangerous, but I will rise with you and be looked upon as someone or die alongside you in a blaze of glory."

Havoc snorted. "Must you be so overly dramatic? We ain't gonna go in a blaze of glory because I will make sure that doesen't happen. Nothing will stop me from exacting my revenge and plan upon England." he stood up and then said, "Get Rip to make you a suit of armor. You will need one."

Draco smiled at that and watched Havoc's back go up the stairs. "Good night." Havoc called. "Good night." Draco whispered. He found himself empowered by what Havoc said and willing. Havoc was a very energetic person for someone who was dead three weeks ago.

Havoc layed on his bed and thought about what has been happening for the last three weeks. It felt like yesterday when he was woken up by Rip and dubbed the Overlord. Beyond the three weeks was bothering him. This was the first night he wasn't angry, sad or any other distracting emotion and without a distraction his thoughts wandered to that. Some things, he realized, he does on reflex which should be impossible since he never fought with a sword nor manipulated magic with such expertise. Some of it could be coming from the activation of the latent abilities his race possesses however it can't be responsible for everything. If it did then Draco would be catching up with him when he activated the traits in Draco. Someone taught him.

Maybe. Havoc suspected of Arthur having a hand in it. It was like he has a guardian angel constantly looking over him. What Rex told him, Arthur would do everything in his power to help him succeed in his endeavor of building the _Pristi_ kingdom back from scratch. Havoc felt the hatred from both sides, from the muggles and the wizarding world. Both tried to murder him and for that there is only vengeance.

He had the next day planned out and fell asleep, his hands longing for contact.

* * *

><p>Diagon Alley was particularly sunny on that day and fairly lively for a nation in cold war. The cautious glances and paranoia was still there like it has been for the past year. Amongst the crowd passed a man who's head rose up amidst the various pointy hats and other horrible headwear. People were quick to get out of his way the second those red eyes fell upon them.<p>

Beside the intimidating man dressed in black regal robes walked a smaller figure wearing a hood which was enchanted to hide the face. A black-green dragonskin jacket and pants reflected the ever present colour of Diagon Alley. The figure drew many stares and some hissed, "Could be one of them?"

Draco observed from the rooftops with a small squad of reds beside him. He whined. He wanted to be down there and get all those stares, they were intimidated and the two below enjoyed it. His eyes followed them until they disappeared inside the crooked confines of the Gringotts bank.

With quick and silent footsteps Draco walked over the rooves and easily jumped over the gaps that sometimes appeared between the buildings. The late afternoon sun's rays shined against the spotless plates covering the leather interior of Draco's armor. His white eyes dimmed inside the helmet that resembled a mix of tiger and dragon. Belts with knives in them are strapped against his thighs and forearms while two shortswords lied in their sheaths on his hips. Inside one of the eyes was put in a mechanism that switched between various lenses just like Rex's helmet has. The leather was black as void while the metal plates were a bleached white. The entire armor followed the same theme ensuring easy movement and sneaking. Small pouches were also strapped onto his thighs with them all enchanted to hold more than it's size.

Draco switched lenses and scanned the street. Nothing strange was happening for now though the path by which Havoc and Rex passed looked like a trail as people evaded it like it was diseased. Such fearful creatures he thought.

Then he spotted something unusual from his perch. He couldn't see if it was a man or a woman from this distance but the figure was running across the rooftops. The sun blinded Draco for a second and made him rub his eyes. By the time he regained proper vision the figure was gone. He doubted he was going insane and made a note of what happened before returning back to looking over the street. He felt like a hawk.

Havoc with Rex by his side walked down the marble hall and when Havoc spotted the familiar face of Griphook did he stop and approach the goblin's desk. Rex eyed all those creatures as they talked to their clients, greed in this place was tangible and with effort Rex didn't scowl.

The goblin observed them intently as they arrived to his desk. He leaned a bit to get a better look at the smaller one and frowned when he couldn't see the face due to the hood. "May I please ask you to remove the hood." Griphook pointed with his taloned finger.

Havoc lifted his hand and opened his palm. Magic burned inside and formed the sign of infinity. Griphook backed away and sent wary glances in every direction possible before leaning back down. "Welcome, _Pristi_. How can I help you today?"

"I wish to see all the Potter vaults." Havoc was brief and was glad that the goblin didn't ask any further questions. Griphook lead the pair through a series of hallways until they reached the very familiar cart on tracks. Havoc still hasn't digested the last ride. Rex uneasily sat into the cart along with Havoc. _"Hold onto something." _ Havoc mentaly spoke to Rex. He could see Rex's grip on the small railing of the cart tighten.

The cart moved forward and soon was moving so fast the wind whistled in their ears. They went left than right and left again. To Havoc and Rex it was all a huge blurr until they arrived at their destination.

Rex stepped uneasily onto the firm ground while Havoc had more luck in keeping his footing. The goblin stopped and faced the two. "It is rare for us to have dead owners returning back for their possessions, Mr. Potter." Griphook said that in a very exasparated tone.

"I'm glad I've made history, Griphook." Havoc removed the hood. "How many are there?"

"Shrewd of you to think there are more vaults than your prior one. I see the _Pristi_ heritage isn't wasted on you. Right this way." Griphook waddled into a cavern that seemed to go on forever. Havoc thought they walked a mile when Griphook stopped infront of a door made out of solid stone. The infinity sign chiseled into the surface with vines and leaves. Beside the door was a pedestal with a small basin on top of it. A sharp stone edge rises above it like a sun dial.

"A test of blood is required." Griphook said and gestured Havoc over to the basin. Havoc walked over and frowned at the stone blade. It was carved out of moonstone and glew with inner light.

Havoc raised his hand over the tip of it and gritted his teeth as he forced his palm into it. Blood slowly dripped onto the basin and Havoc strained not to make a sound. It felt like he would bleed out in a matter of seconds. "That is enough." Griphook then waddled away from the door. Havoc looked at the small puddle of blood being melded with the basin.

The stone door rumbled as the magic that moved it sprung to life. Lichen and all other sorts of cavernous growth creaked and broke as the door has been opened after centuries since it's closure. The three were met with nothing but darkness inside.

"The _Pristi_ have been our most valued clients, being the first ones, actually." Havoc looked at the choking darkness before him. The door looked rather thin for a vault and no protection at all, but he felt the powerful wards around it and he sensed something alive inside the darkness.

"I will leave you to your inspection. I will be waiting by the cart." Griphook started to go back when Havoc spoke, "This is, I assume, private knowledge?". Griphook turned and bowed, "Of course."

Havoc narrowed his eyes and deemed the goblin to speak the truth, something hard to determine in such a race. He stepped forward and he was almost blinded by the sudden light pouring out of the vault. Orbs of light encased in globes of glass floated above in the expansive hallway. Statues of knights lined the sides with doors behind them leading deeper into the vault. The walls are chiseled out of black marble with rich tapestries hanging all around. The marble floor was covered by a long carpet of red and yellow. The vault was decorated more like it was a palace than a vault. In the far back was a yet another knight but who towered above the others. In it's hands tightly gripped is a wide sword with the width of a man.

Inside the helmet two stone orbs watched the new visitors closely.

Havoc would lie if he said he wasn't impressed by all of this. He didn't really expect for his family to have a vault such as this, he went on a bluff and it payed off. Weird. He noticed through the open doors on each side treasures that made his eyes go wide and back into his skull. Most of them were caskets full of gold when he stopped and saw something very interesting in one of the rooms. He went towards it and got a slammed door in return.

"Not before I have met my new masters." the knight statue spoke with a coarse tone. Havoc and Rex quickly spun around and reflexively drew their swords. Havoc enlarged Rex's sword since he couldn't be seen with a claymore on his back and his sword was easy to conceal. The knight laughed heartily which sounded like he had stones crunching inside his throat. "No need for weapons. I mean you no harm."

The two _Pristi_ glared at the statue for a second before putting away their swords. They walked forward and were surprised to see the giant kneel before them. "Welcome to the Crucible, master. I have been awaiting the return of the Potter line for centuries. My wait has is over."

"You guard this vault?" Rex asked, eyeing the tall sword which would be normal for someone the size of the knight. The knight faced Rex. "Yes, I have been guarding the Crucible for almost a millenia. Vigil is my name, and my maker the greatest dwarven artificer, Ironbeard."

The knight then went silent after his short biography and looked at the two _Pristi_ with mild curiosity. He has been given silent and humble master, refreshing. The younger one clearly lacks the proper upbringing of a _Pristi_ while the other's stature and mannerism looked like he came from the fourteenth century. Interesting.

Havoc noticed an amused glint in the knight's eyes. "What is so funny?" The knight was slightly startled by the sudden question and laughed again. "It is an extreme rarity for a _Pristi_ to act so emotionally. I have seen many _Pristi_ during my service here and you are the first to not act like you have a stick up your arse." Sigil chuckled and was surprised again when his master smiled. The only smile he had ever seen was when he first woke up and saw his creator's face. It was amazing how this boy rewarded him so easily and unawares, he was considered alive.

"I can't spend all this gold." Havoc announced with his arms encompassing the entire vault. Rex snorted. "You will have children, will you not? Save the wealth for them.". Havoc sputtered and quickly replied, "Where I'm going, no way."

Vigil observed the interaction and adored it. "I suppose you wish to inspect the Crucible?"

Havoc nodded. All the doors opened wide and Havoc was already at the one he first wanted to see. Havoc would have dragged his jaw on the floor were it anatomically possible. Weapons lined the wall top to bottom. while the opposite side has the largest collection of armors Havoc has ever seen.

"_Pristi_ have been versed in the art of war and have been even considered gods on the battlefield. They led vast armies and enjoyed the slaughter. Many great generals and leaders have had a _Pristi_ heritage. There were exceptions and many _Pristi_ families mated with those lines." Vigil spoke through a levitating eye. Havoc yelped in shock. He glared at the eye in anger until quickly calming down. "Apologies, master. I use my eyes to make sure the Crucible is perfectly safe. If I am disturbing you, I will leave."

Havoc shook his head and patted the floating eye the size of his head. "Nah, I want you to be a guide for me. What is Rex doing?"

"Your companion is currently enjoying the vast art collection. He seems quite refined, if I may notice." Vigil's eye responded. Havoc smirked and saw the amused glint in the magical iris of the stone eye. Then he returned his attention back to the weapons and drooled.

Meanwhile Rex was pretending to look at the picture, but instead he was thinking again, like he has been for the last few days. The thinking also coupled with the subtle evasion of Havoc and keeping to dark corners. They were disturbing, those feelings. The constant teases Havoc sends his way are the things he fears the most. He was loyal to Rose, she was his only love. She couldn't be replaced by someone else! Not by a boy younger than him by two decades! A BOY!

But she was. Rose was slowly becoming a thing of the past that came and went. He cared what happened to Havoc without even knowing the reason. He now had a faint idea of what the Malfoy boy was feeling. The fear of a new connection was staggering and had a vice grip on Rex. In the end he will fall.

"Is everything alright? You have been looking at this painting for a half hour." Vigil spoke and shook Rex out of his stupor. The painting infront of him was a protrait of a red-haired woman sitting in a garden. She resembled Rose in many details but the eyes were cold, unforgiving. All the eyes were on every portrait Rex saw. The _Pristi_ are a cold-natured race.

"Yes, everything is fine." Rex said gravely, wishing to believe what he said. The floating eye scrutinized him before responding, "This is Lady Guinevere, bethrode of Arthur of Camelot. The Potter family has been close with the family until they were both presumed eradicated. The Potters survived."

"A fight for their very lives. Monsters to be hunted down." Rex whispered. Vigil easily heard the man. "Unfortunately so. The perception of the outsiders is false." Vigil's tone was firm and loyalty was dripping in the words like honey. Rex smiled, loyalty is something he valued most. It was something that if maintained kept you breathing and living amidst the deceit and poison.

"If Havoc is anything to go by, you might be right." Rex said and continued to look at the paintings and the many other this room surely possesses.

* * *

><p>Draco sighed as he glanced at the sun as it slowly disappeared behind the tall buildings of London. The sunset was rather beautiful but Draco was too pissed to care really. He gave another sweep down the main street and still saw nothing unusual like the two hours before. Then he returned back to watching the four minions playing what seemed to be a rather twisted version of 'Go fish'. And Draco had to admit that the game was really interesting when it came to the furious accusations of cheating and fist fights, or in this case forcing a fireball down their throat.<p>

He stood up and walked over to the other side of the roof where it overlooked Knockturn Alley. He spotted the black-robed wizards and witches go about their business which will surely swell when the night arrives. Then he saw a witch dressed in black lace which he recognized a mile away, Bellatrix.

Draco's eyes glew so brightly that if one looked up he would think two stars appeared on the setting sky. Draco pulled out a cloak out of one of his pouches and draped it over himself. Then he approached the edge to the right and saw the tight alley below was empty. He jumped down and was too angry to consider the hight nor the possibility of breaking his legs on landing.

The armor absorbed the force and reditributed it into the air around him making it swirl for a second. With quick and cautious steps he entered the larger alley. It didn't take him long to find his query and pick up the pace. His heart beated in his ears and the slowly rising adrenaline blurred everything but the path before him. He broke through knots of wizards and Witches with such force he even knocked down some of them. Angry cries followed his wake.

Bellatrix didn't notice her hunter and continued to walk down the alley like she owned it. Draco growled and was happy when the helmet absorbed most of it. He followed the Death Eater to none other than Borgin and Burke's shop. Draco pressed himself against the wall and saw Borgin, the slimey bastard, greet Bellatrix with a shaking hand. Draco sneered at the man, he is right to be scared of people above him.

Draco pulled the hood further down to hide his helmet and entered the shop. Borgin was wiping his sweaty, or slimy more like it, brow and put on such a fake smile Draco debated should he lodge a dagger in the man's throat or not. "Welcome. Find something that interests you?"

Draco leaned over and let the glow of his eyes penetrate the enchanted darkness his hood provided and enjoyed the terrified expression on Borgin's face. "Yes, I have. I saw you have in stock one Bellatrix LeStrange in the back if my eyes did not deceive me."

Borgin was so afraid that he feared to even swallow. He pointed at the back and it was obvious on his face he was praying to every god he could think off. Draco smirked and passed around the counter and went in the back.

The _Pristi_ almost collided with a partial skeleton dressed in garish jewlery which is cursed with such vile magics that it made Draco sick. He evaded furniture and other artifacts draped in white cloth to prevent dust. The place was a labirinth.

Draco was about to overturn something in his frustration when he saw a Death Eater pass by in a mirror. He ducked and slowly walked to the side of a large draped object he had a feeling was a statue or something. The Death Eater walked around the corner and Draco quickly grabbed the man and held him in a choke hold. Not caring for this particular slob, he drew a knife and slammed it into the man's neck.

"Scum." Draco sneered and continued to search for his prey. He wandered around until he fell upon a door who was slightly ajar. He peeked in and saw a ragtag group of Death Eaters having a meeting. Among them was Macnair, Bellatrix, Dolohov and Rookwood.

"The Dark Lord is gone. We have searched everywhere." Macnair scowled and Bellatrix shot him a heated glare. "But he is not dead," she hissed, "The mark is still here! You people are incompetent to find our Lord."

Bellatrix rose above them and several Death Eaters took a step back. One of them got close enough to the door and Draco sent a large quantitiy of magic into his finger. The tip started to faintly glow and he pressed it into the man's back. The Death Eater froze as he thought a wand was the thing poking him. "Bye," Draco whispered and let the magic go.

A large bang deafened everyone in the room and were horrified to be showered in blood. Draco didn't expect to cut the man in half with his spell, he expected more like sending him flying into a wall or something like that. Oh well, no sense in crying over spilled milk, or blood. Wasting no time Draco ran in and clumsily launched several knives. Some lodged themselves in throats and chests while other in wood and floor. Three Death Eaters fell on the floor and six of them were left in the room.

The remaining Death Eaters slowly drew their wands due to tremendous headaches and were easily dispatched by Draco with his short swords. Only Bellatrix and Rookwood were left on their knees. Draco had the courtesy of binding them in chains and sat down on a blood-spattered chair.

Bellatrix was the only one let awake by Draco. Rookwood was snoring beside her in the most unusual position for a man to sleep in. Bellatrix glared daggers at Draco and hissed, "How dare you attack us!"

Draco cocked his head and let down the hood. The woman's face screwed up in even further anger. "It was you who took my Voldemort away from me! I will torture you and your family until you beg for death!"

Draco leaned down until he was a few inches away from Bellatrix's face. "'Your' Voldemort? You are more stupid than I thought. He has never cared for you, or anyone else in his life." Draco removed his helmet and he couldn't believe that Bellatrix could widen her eyes any further. "You insolent whelp! I will skin you alive and your traitorus father of yours!" she screamed like a madwoman. Draco backhanded her with restraint. "Don't you scream at me. You killed your own sister, my mother. Cherish these moments because this is only the start when you will want to die." Draco seethed and ignited his fingers with magic before pressing them hard into Bellatrix's face. She screamed in pain and the smell of burnt flesh was nauseating. He hit the most ensitive points on ones face which were written in detail in one torture manual.

He removed his fingers and wiped off the almost liquid skin onto the table. Then he kicked the woman onto her back and let the chains unwrap from her hands. With quick actions Bella was unable to fight against he took the two daggers and slammed each into her palms. More screams filled Draco's ears and they were music.

With his prey safely restrained Draco decided he would like to learn about the human anatomy and since Bella was such a eager candidate, who is he to say no?

The knives bit deep into the skin and Draco lifted the patches of skin to reveal twitching muscles beneath. "Bella, you are beutiful." Draco purred and traced his bloodied fingers across her lips. Then curiosity struck and he wanted to see a human bone. With utter disregard he tore apart the muscles enveloped around the bone and grinned when his knife hit solid bone. He parted the crying flesh and tugged at the bone with glee. So strong.

Having his sadistic curiosity satisfied he took the short sword out of the mutilated right arm and started hacking at the bone, deliberately making his swings too weak to cut the bone in half. With agonizing slowness he finaly cut off the entire right hand and cauterized the huge wound to prevent further blood loss. Draco was surprised how resilient Bellatrix was since she was still conscious and screaming her throat raw.

"This is much worse than your petty Crucio, isn't it? Voldemort has never caused you this kind of pain." Draco purred and forced Bellatrix to look at him. "I have to go now, a parting gift.". Draco summoned three spikes and slammed them into Bellatrix's hand and legs. He waved with his finger above her foot and and cast a spell he had the pleasure of finding it while reading in the library.

The leg started to crumble and decay on the point on her ankle and slowly spread. Bellatrix started to scream again even loudly. "I can only hope the flow will accept your vile magic." Draco said and returned his helmet and slid the hood back over and dragged Rookwood behind him, having a feeling another prisoner for torture would be good, maybe even share with Havoc. He licked his lips and passed a petrified Borgin who didn't dare look.

"Good service here." Draco said and left Rookwood in the store where a stone platform erupted beneath him and transported him back to Hogwarts. Draco was pleasantly surprised none of the screaming reached the street and was able to leave the store unnoticed.

"I wonder what Havoc and Rex are doing. Screams erupted like a vulcano inside the alley he was walking in and saw alot of movement going on in Diagon Alley. He rushed over and was stopped by a wall of people. With a bit of effort Draco managed to squeeze in and see someone very hurt run in the middle. "Help me! They've kidnapped me!" Draco stopped in horror. It was Havoc's voice and was quickly in the front row.

"It's Harry! Harry Potter! He is alive!"

* * *

><p><strong>Interesting end, isn't it? I hope you will grace my poor existance with a small review, if even that. I just want to see that people are liking it or not. The traffic graph does little to comfort me :(<strong>


	12. Plans in motion

**Chapter 11! A bit shorter than the last two, I was having quite a hard time writing this one. That's why it took me a good three weeks to write it, add up school and the ever-present procrastination and lack of inspiration.**

**Amak 206: This is what makes writing something worth it and fun. Getting a review that has three or two sentences does wonders to me. I am glad you find it interesting to read and very easy to understand, when ever I write I try to not overcomplicate things so much that even I don't understand what I said. Thank you for the review!**

**Now onward my reviewers, followers and alertists!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 11<p>

Plans in motion

Kingsley nervously toyed with his wand, such an unsavory habit. The cause of his nervousness was the person he was sitting beside in the darkened room with magical windows which had their blinds shut to keep out the light. The room was in the lower parts of the hopsital

Harry Potter was sleeping soundly on the bed right next to Kingsley, black and blue from the bruises that marred his face and body. The healers said they were fairely recent and brutal. It didn't really fit the Death Eater torture MO and Kingsley suspected but wasn't confident enough to entertain the thought of another party acting behind the curtains of this entire cold war.

Strangely though, one of the few remaining Aurors found Borgin when there was a comotion amidst a dozen or so corpses of torn apart Death Eaters. They could have been holding Harry in Borgin's shop hostage. However keeping Harry there wasn't really smart and Kingsley doubted Voldemort would risk to lose Harry Potter so easily, or leave his own wand there.

Harry Potter was an enigma like always, his sudden reappearance which almost caused Scrimgeour a heart attack baffeled them all. The news spread like wildfire and lined the exclusive editions of every newspaper that ever existed in Wizarding Britain with huge headlines. The nation was ecstatic and roaring in renewed mirth and hope.

But that wasn't enough to entirely remove the paranoia that has been spreading like cancer along with it's best friend corruption. The Ministry has been reduced to barely holding any right or power during the last year, and Kingsely hoped Harry Potter's return would repair some of the damage.

Kingsley then remembered what Dumbledore said just the other day when he returned back to Grimmauld Place from the clutches of Voldemort. Harry Potter tried to kill him when he was kidnapped from Hogwarts. A preposterous claim were it somebody else but Dumbledore. He was shocked by the mere fact the old wizard was among them again and was horrified to hear Harry tried to kill him of all people.

He wanted to believe Dumbledore, he really did. But only a glance at the battered face spoke that he couldn't have tried something like that. Just by thinking Harry was alive after that fall was amazing in of itself and had Kingsley's mind boggled.

The boy beside him stirred and Kingsley quickly turned to face the bed. He remembered the Healer-In-Charge shove a Dreamless sleep potion down his throat a day ago and Harry hasn't woken up until now.

Harry's eyes flittered open and a dim glow escaped the confines of his irises and slightly illuminated the dimly lit room. Kingsley stood up so fast the chair fell over behind him.

Those eyes, that glow. The wails of the many widows the knight with those eyes caused was still painfully fresh in the black Auror's mind. His focus shifted then to the shifting knob of the room's door and quickly locked it with a flick of his wand. The silhouette of Arthur Weasley was in the draped window of the door.

"Kingsley? Everything alright?" Arthur fiddled with the knob some more.

"Yes, everything is fine, Arthur. I just fell asleep for a second and fell of the chair." Kingsley responded and hoped that Arthur won't question the fact the door was suddenly locked. Thankfully the silhouete nodded and returned to it's post beside the door.

When Kingsley turned back to the bed he found Harry rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawned, slightly wincing with every move.

"Ouch." Harry groaned. He lifted himself up into a sitting position and inspected his surroundings. Sterile-looking room with white walls and floor along with furniture suprisingly the same colour, he was in a hopsital. St. Mungo's probably.

What Havoc didn't expect though was Kingsley staring death at him. It didn't take long for him to realize in what a dangerous situation he was in and decided to play it cool.

"Umm, hi? Where am I?"

Kingsley didn't reply and flicked his wand all over the room. Havoc slightly winced in a reflex expecting a spell coming his way but was not happy that the man was putting silencing spells all around the room with intensifying degrees of power. Havoc was afraid that Kingsley figured out what he was and was confused how.

He glanced at a green light reflected in the mirror and saw his eyes staring at him.

"Fuck."

"Indeed." Kingsley spoke in a quiet tone that was murderous at best. "Dumbledore's words were true. I never imagined you would become such a potent killer."

"How hypocritical of you, Kingsley. You all expected me to kill Voldemort eventually, didn't you?" Kingsley saw Harry tense up in the shoulders and the sheets were gripped tightly in the small hands.

"Yes. The Minstry doubted Voldemort would listen to reason, and I share that opinion. But, are you aware how many widows you left alone when you murdered the entire Auror office?" Kingsley's voice was betraying anger.

Havoc's stare glanced at Kingsley's hand in the sling. "I was defending myself. If I was arrested they wouldn't even give me a fair trial and execute me because I am a _Pristi_. Few people would submit and I am not one of them, Kingsley."

Havoc now stood up and was glaring up into Kingsley and didn't even blink. Kingsley was having a hard time in maintaining eye contact with the Pristi, some because of the glow, some because of the cold stare which were distinctly described in many books his family owns in their secret library.

Few pureblood families truly knew that the Pristi existed, and those that knew were extremely powerful. Many of them have several creatures in their family tree, ensuring their magical superiority. They cared about the purity of the blood but not to a degree of madness that Voldemort showed.

"You would have done the same thing. Be it right or wrong, I want to live and I will do anything to keep it that way. I will get my revenge on you, wizard. Putting so much expectation on a mere child, a child who was abused and left to be abused and expected to save you all." Havoc broke eye contact and sat onto the bed, slightly relaxed.

"You would never kill me. You wouldn't kill a defenseless boy and it is that you believe in that I shouldn't be summarily executed just because I am. I have a knack for figuring people out, and I don't see a killer here 'cept me." Havoc slightly smiled at the black Auror and was glad to see the shocked expression on the man's face.

"I killed many! And you would be just like one of the dark wizard scum me and my former colleagues have been hunting!" Kingsley roared. He lost it at the smile and was even more frustrated when the teen wasn't phased by his outburst. "Have you ever seen and heard a woman's cries as she tried to claw her way into her husband's coffin?!"

"I am not responsible for their actions." Havoc simply said and expected a bolt of magic fly at him. Nothing came and Havoc was surprised to see the man hold his temper with patience and will of great magnitude. Something rare in a pureblood. "The Ministry has been infiltrated by Voldemort's lakeys, probably alot of them Imperioed and you guys are too blind to notice. With your help, hunting down the traitors would be a breeze."

"And why do you care the Ministry is corrupted?"

"It is in my interest to have no dirt inside my office, or near it." Havoc rubbed his jaw and winced as he passed a particularly sore spot. He was afraid it might have been broken before getting here.

"The happenings back in Diagon Alley was all a charade?" Kingsley calmly asked but it was evident that he was seething. "You guys really bought it."

"Why are you answering all my questions? Wouldn't I be a thorn in your side?" Kingsley was now genuinely curious, unpleasantly surprised by the deviousness the teen possessed.

"If you did, you wouldn't be alive right now. I would rather have you just observing or as an ally." Havoc found it rather strange discussing his plans for the Wizarding world with one of the enemy, in the middle of a wizard hospital, and him being a Pristi.

Of course his status as the BWL defended him from the most wizards now but that didn't stop them from doing something to him from behind the scenes. Havoc had a feeling he will hate those battles led by smart talk and parties. With Voldemort coming into his plan soon enough the only enemy left would be Dumbledore, who is as of yet in an unknown location, and the Ministry which shouldn't pose much of a threat.

"Anyway, you can remove all those wards you put up, I think your partner is getting restless." Havoc slightly yawned and winced again and settled in the sheets before instantly falling asleep.

Kingsley was horrified how confident the teen was. And the problem is that Harry had every right to be so. He is one of the most powerful beings on the planet to which dragons kneel. Kingsley's hands were tied in every way. The Ministry can't execute him because the fact Harry is alive is now public and would cause a massive uproar and total chaos. Voldemort would take the chance and truly take over.

"You planned this very carefully," Kingsley grumbled as he left the room and slightly hit a woman in black robes with her hair tied into a ponytail with his shoulder. She looked like she came from the mediterranean with her tanned skin and a fresh sea scent.

He failed to apologize but the closely following Arthur Weasley gave a low bow "I apologize for my colleague, madam."

"Oh, you needn't worry," the woman flashed him a smile and it took Arthur's brain a second or so to catch up with what just happened. But by that time the woman was already gone.

Arthur soon caught up with his wayward coworker and patted him on the shoulder in worry. Arthur expected Kingsley to cheer up atleast slightly by seeing Harry well and good. It wasn't the result he expected.

KIngsley turned to face Arthur and found an apology to be stuck in his throat by rising anger he hasn't felt since he was a child.

"What is the matter, Kingsley? You are angry at something, and I know it is not those funerals." Arthur looked Kingsley in the eye. He saw within them anger that really terrified the red head and caused him to step back.

"Sorry, my friend. I didn't mean to be rude. I have alot on my mind right now, and this new information is a bit overbearing," Kingsley cradled his arm and averted his gaze. ""But be wary of Harry, Arthur. He is not what he seems, not anymore. I beg you to consider what I said."

Arthur confusedly looked at his superior and was given no explanation for the strange behaviour Kingsley was exhibiting. The pleading look on Kingsley's face was enough to stall any and all questions that quickly rose inside Arthur.

Without a word more Kingsley turned and left Arthur alone in the corridor, confused and slightly terrified because the doubt he was harboring about Dumbledore's words was diminishing rapidly.

* * *

><p>Draco paced back and forth time and time again with his hands in his hair. On the floor beside him was a good portion of his armor which he managed to take off before losing it to the worry. He was glad his father wasn't here to see his reaction because he feared he would die of shame if he was seen.<p>

A brooding Rex sat in his throne, not responding to anything around him. He didn't change clothes and posed a look of a enraged pureblood who was plotting world domination from his throne.

The reason for his brooding was his own doing, his own backlash, lost control. He didn't truly mean to cause that much damage, that much pain and was horrified when he didn't stop at the struggling commands to stop. He caused so much hurt to the only person who really mattered to him in this world. Was it because of Rose? His old self refuses to be snuffed out?

Rex wasn't sure. It was shame and regret that brought him down and was crushing him. He shouldn't have had a reaction such as that. He did say to hurt him but he lost control. He didn't mean it, he didn't mean it.

_"I know you didn't mean it." _Havoc's voice came inside Rex's troubled mind like fresh air that erased the embers of his anger and deepened the regret. _"You are as forgetful of our bond as I am. I didn't feel malice in your punches or cuts. You were sad and simply retaliated on someone."_

_"That does not excuse my actions! I hurt you more than requested and caused unnecesarry suffering to you."_ Rex heard Havoc mentally scoff, _"Please, I asked you to beat me up. I wouldn't have looked good for the press when I made my big unveiling yesterday. How is Draco by the way?"_

Rex glanced at the frustrated blonde. _"Rather worried after seeing you black and blue."_ Havoc cooed. _"My poor Draco. Let him worry a bit and then tell him what happened. I hope you won't have much trouble keeping him off you."_ Havoc sniggered.

Rex slightly chuckled, starting to leave the shell of shame and regret. "Don't worry." Then he wondered where Havoc really is to be so comfortable in contacting him. _"Where are you?"_

_"In St. Mungo's Hospital."_

_"Hospital?"_ Rex frowned in confusion whether Havoc could see him or not.

Havoc didn't respond immedately. _"A place of healing. But they can't heal as good as your touch..."_

Rex coughed and found his face to be burning hot. He hated to have such a reaction when teased by no other than a teenager. To which he was bound to nonetheless.

The bond went quiet, both of them had nothing more to say since their emotions that flew through it like a conduit conveyed the rest of the conversation. Rex found it rather soothing, Havoc was in cozy content and a good portion of it flowed to Rex and the man couldn't help but relax.

* * *

><p>Kristina checked if the robe was inconspicuous enough. You never knew which wizard or witch would notice what on a person and Kristina didn't like unnecessary risks, restricting her apparel to a simply decorated black robe with silver edges and small symbols. She kept her hair in a ponytail, the rubber that held her hair was the only thing keeping it from bursting all around her head.<p>

Carlyle uncomfortably sat in his chair and waited for Kristina to come out of her room which seemed like forever. The pair took up residence in one of the shops deep in Diagon Alley that probably went out of business due to the poor location or the cold war, either way, it didn't make a profit but made a good hideout.

The healer still wasn't over the fact he was having a half-decent relationship with a woman who could easily kill him without any doubt or remorse. How she drew her sword without even blinking told alot about her. Maybe too much.

Finally Kristina entered the small office from the bathroom she declared absolute possession of and spinned. The robes slightly rose up as she spinned.

"What do you think? Will it attract attention?" she asked and caught Carlyle off guard. Carlyle slowly turned his head, not expecting to see Kristina out of her leather jacket obviously taken from a muggle shop along with her jeans and found it a welcoming change. Kristina looked rather harmless, if you stayed away from her line-of-sight.

"Y-yes. I don't think you will rise any suspicion." Carlyle said, a bit shakily. Kristina frowned at him and leaned forward. "You still scared of me?"

Carlyle averted his eye. He hated for being such a coward, he wasn't made for combat or physical action. He felt strangely nostalgic of the good old days when the only thing he needed to care about was his patients. This kind of constant adrenaline pumping was wearing him out.

"Good." Kristina spoke coldly and set off for the backdoor leading to the back of the shop. Before leaving she shot a glare towards Carlyle. "You stay here."

Carlyle nodded. Kristina didn't even look at him a second longer and slammed the door shut. Carlyle felt various locking spells and silencing wards surround the room. Carlyle could siphon the wards, easy. But dared not to and also found them a bit comforting.

He ran a hand through his spiky hair that for some reason always was like that. In what a mess he stumbled into. All because he was clumsy and stupid not to hide his residue after doing experiments.

Carlyle was trying to find a way to bring someone to life, probably because of his late mother, and he saw remarkable potential in the magic he wielded without a restriction such as a wand. He has one but rarely used it since he can do all of those things wandless.

The research ended up in a dead end. He had no way of manipulating the magic within someone except draining them, and that had the opposite effect of dramatically reducing lifespan or outright killing them. And Carlyle had no intention of killing anybody.

That was the problem. He needed subjects, people or creatures on who he could experiment in finding that one object or spell with which he could achieve something like that. If he found one, it would be a breakthrough the world would ever see.

Carlyle was quite sure that the wizarding community would find it a great discovery. The medical and ethical societies, however, will consider it an act against nature. But who gave a shit for nature when you had a set in stone goal that you would pursue until you died?

Healing people was a goal for Carlyle at first. To keep the tradition going. Carlyle did go in his fathers, and his grand-fathers footsteps and graduated to become a Healer. Being a Pristi made it alot easier to heal curses and other longlasting effects from spells.

When his mother died from an ailment neither his father nor him could heal did Carlyle vow to his father to bring back his father's wife and his mother. How their race was close to extinction made his cause all the more important. His father told him even though they were the first, they weren't omnipotent.

Carlyle was a young lad when he promised, when he scoffed at his father for saying such foolishness. Now he was smarter and had a bigger picture of the world that you couldn't learn in the sheltered life in a manor. Living in the manor and leaving the house into their personal small wood did little to strenghthen him.

The room was silent and Carlyle found himself wishing Kristina had stayed.

* * *

><p>Kristina apparated to the front of an abandoned warehouse and causally spoke with the manequinn before entering into the lobby. The strong energy she felt yesterday in Diagon alley radiated from this hospital. She managed to pin-point it in the middle of the hospital just below. The source was meshed by various other magical energies she reocgnized as protective wards.<p>

It is going to be a bit of a problem getting in there, that amount of wards surely meant good security. Did the man, or woman, have the alliegence of some wizards? Maybe.

The nurse behind the reception desk was reading a long scroll of parchment and if anything her frown had to say, it looked like she hated it. Kristina saw the two doors on each side and read the directions. The source was a floor down and that meant she needed to go to the 'Shock rooms'.

The Pristi glanced at the nurse to see if she wasn't looking, she wasn't due to the impossibly long scroll and seemed that she won't be rising her head anytime soon to see if anyone is here.

Kristina slowly opened the double-doors and snuck into the stairwell. It was empty and Kristina descended down to the first double door that had 'Shock rooms' written above. Behind them was a long hall that resembled muggle hospitals. Kristina remembered the look when she visited one once.

She started down the corridor, zeroing in on the magical source as she rounded a corner and was roughly hit in the shoulder by a passing man. If Kristina didn't have to keep a low-profile, the man would have been slain on the spot.

"I apologize for my colleague, madam." a redheaded man dressed in worn robes slightly bowed before her in an apology. Kristina gave the man a fake smile and replied, "Oh, you needn't worry.". The man was stunned and Kristina took the opportunity to quickly walk to the next corner and disappear.

The two men were talking and soon after dispersed with the red-head standing there for a minute before he left, too. With the hall empty, Kristina could see who was this powerful England Pristi she has been sent to stalk, and possibly assassinate if ordered.

The door was firmly closed and had more spells on it than her paranoid father put up around his own door. These were weak wizard wards that didn't have the protection from siphoning and were easily drained. Pristi were actually much like wizards and witches when it came to fighting against other Pristi. They easily died.

The door slightly creaked as Kristina opened it and slowly entered the dark room. She used her magic to make her footsteps absolutely silent and walked over to the front of the bed. They always had a patient record or something like that attached there and Kristina hoped wizarding hospitals had those too.

Her eyes glew yellow in the darkness and she easily saw in the dark. The hoped patient record was indeed attached to the front of the bed and Kristina almost dropped it when she saw the name.

Harry Potter

It wouldn't have been so shocking if the person before her didn't radiate such a large amount of power. Coupled with the fact this person's surname is Potter... No. It couldn't be true. The Potters were dead for half a millenia. And if they did, they couldn't be Pristi and still live with such a surname.

Potters the Immortals. A ridiculous name, sure, but it sowed fear in every Pristi that was raised properly by their parents. They were almost legendary even among the Pristi, thanks to their resilience and tenacity. In the _Ritus Regulae_ tournament every ten years, the Potters were the last standing. The English branch of the Pristi nation was the strongest one, only rivaled by the ferocious Skandinavian branch.

The rulers, the Immortals. Figulus Immortales.

The person on the bed shifted in the covers and rolled to it's other side and revealed a young face. Kristina gasped. It was just a child. It was obvious that this was one of the last descendants of the Potter line.

A dillema has sprung up in Kristina's mind. It was between cutting the sleeping boy's throat or leaving him be, which her father would surely find the biggest mistake of her life. But did she really want to listen to her horrible father? She didn't really care what he had to say nor would say.

The Pristi numbers are dwindling, the Concil is failing to keep the nations together and sooner or later, without a firm rule, they would disperse and be divided. A ruler. An Immortal.

The _Ritus_ _Regulae_ hadn't been respected ever since the Great Hunt that decimated the Pristi population to a mere half milion across the globe. The number has fallen ever lower since then.

If this Harry was a true Potter, he would win in the _Ritus_ and possibly ensure that the Pristi race survives. A lot would be at stake if she spared the child and gave her support for him to renew the tradition of _Ritus Regulae_. And Kristina wasn't certain if she could decide right now, she needed time to think things through, she needed to tell Zoran and ask what he thought of it.

Then will she make a decision.

As silently as she came, silently she left and Havoc woke up with a strange trace of magic fill his room like a scent. "Someone was here." Havoc mumbled, slightly confused and a bit scared.

* * *

><p>Zoran grabbed and pulled onto the seabed as he inspected the sandy floor. Shells and various debris from ships, animals and other things littered the seabed. Stripes of soft white moved like waves on the surface as the sun shined from above.<p>

Soft and regular breathing filled the bubble Zoran was keeping up around his mouth to breathe. Zoran felt like he was alone with only his breathing to hear. That was the reason why Zoran ever dived, to get away from things, especially his father. When his sister forced him to come back 'home' two days ago Hrvoje, their father, was gloating constantly how he returned despite his promises to never see them again.

"Gad jedan." Zoran muttered to himself and looked at the shell which caught his interest. It was as colourful as it could get and was large as Zoran's fist. He tapped it and it opened, leaving the huge pearl inside vulnerable. Zoran easily took out the pearl and closed the shell.

Last one.

Feeling the need to get out of the water, Zoran swam in diagonals upwards and after a minute or so was on the surface of the water. He was surrounded by a vast expanse of water with two land masses on either side while he faced the open sea. He turned and spotted the mansion he so dearly didn't want to go back to. Zoran felt like prolonging as much as possible before facing his father again and decided to swim there. It took him a good hour to reach the beach right below the small cliff on which the mansion was settled upon. The beach was made out of fine sand and slowly turned into round stones.

Stone steps flanked by reed on each side and it led up to the driveway far above. On them sat the familiar forms of his sister and mother, chatting. Zoran approached them and Kristina didn't smile at him. Something was wrong.

_"Hello Zoran"_ Kristina greeted and gave a faint smile. Zoran raised his eyebrows when he saw his mother was solemn aswell. Her name was Vedrana and had long flowing blonde hair. The hair framed a very young face with lines that told her true age. She was a very beutiful woman and Zoran didn't have to ask his father why did he marry her.

Too bad he was such a bastard.

_"Hello, Kristina." _Zoran replied with an equal smile. _"Kristina has told me something disturbing, my son,"_ Vedrana spoke softly, _"But equally heartening. An Immortal has survived."_

Zoran didn't at first react, he had to shift through his memory and knowledge to understand what his mother meant by Immortal and realized when he finally found it. _"An Immortal?!"_

Kristina and her mother shushed like snakes, _"Quiet! We are keeping this from your father. He is too brash and impulsive to be confided in with this kind of information. Kristina has proposed something that could benefit us all."_

Zoran had few memories when his mother showed her Pristi side. It disturbed him immensly. He expectantly looked at Kristina.

_"Ritus Regulae."_ Kristina said. Zoran frowned. _"Who is he? Or she?"_

_"Harry Potter. A sixteen-year-old." _Kristina said, doubt was obvious in her words. She wasn't even sure anymore if the boy would be able to win the rite at all.

_"A sixteen-year-old? You've got to be kidding me. He won't last a second against either of the opponents." _Zoran looked at his sister incredeously, baffled that she would recommend something like that.

_"But if he is an Immortal then he will win. They always win." _Vedrana nodded in agreement at her daughters words._ "I am still skeptical about all this. What if father finds out?"_

_"When he finds out, it will be too late. You have my full support in this, Kristina. If our race is to survive it needs someone with a firm fist, we are too wild without it."_ Vedrana wisely said and her age was apparent. It would be hard to believe she was 100 years old. Pristi aged alot slower than normal humans and wizards.

Vedrana stood up and looked at her daugher and son, feeling a mother's pride in her children. She had a good feeling about this, and hoped her senses held true. _"Now go, help the Immortal onto the throne."_

Zoran and Kristina looked at eachother and then at their mother before nodding and small confident smiles fell on their faces. Kristina was already heading up the steps. _"Oh, here's that last pearl for your necklace."_ Zoran said and put the pearl he had almost forgoten about and put it in his mother's hands. Vedrana smiled and held his hand for a second before letting her son go.

Vedrana followed them with her gaze until they went out of sight. Maybe this was the chance to redeem the family's honor they have been waiting for. This was now beyond the family, this now encompassed the entire Pristi race if an Immortal has been found.

* * *

><p><em>"Now."<em> Rex woke up to Havoc's voice in his head with a start. His mind was still steeped inside the confines of dreams and had a hard time thinking straight. With a shake of his head he cleared his mind and finally understood what Havoc said. 'Now'. The plan was to be set in motion now.

Rex stood up out of his bed and put on his armor, the evil visage back in place. He left the room and banged a door as he passed to wake up Draco, and descended into the throne room. Rip was there inspecting yet another mess that looked like fried meat on the floor with a shrugging Red minion close by.

"Rip, bring out the prisoner and put some armor on him." Rex said. He had his helmet under his arm and put it down on the table so he could eat properly. Rip was quizzical at first before nodding, "As you wish, Sire."

Draco entered the throne room with a annoyed expression on his pinched face. The teen sat opposite of Rex and wondered why was Rex dressed in his armor, and realized only now how big and intimidating the armor made him.

"We going somewhere?" Draco asked disdainfully. "We are going to St. Mungo's, and give our prisoner a surprise."

Then Rex fell silent and Draco doubted Rex would say anything else. He was pissed, not by Rex's lack of explanation but because of yesterday. Rex told him that Havoc was okay after knowing it for a good hour and left him frett over it. The bastard.

They finished their breakfast when an imposing knight walked into the room from the dungeons. Chains rattled as it was pushed forward by a group of minions. Draco stood up in alarm but Rex placated him.

"What is this?!" Voldemort's familiar hissing voice bellowed from within the helmet. It was a rather polished suit of armor. Draco asked the same question.

"Sire Havoc had a bright idea to use Voldemort as a patsy, master Malfoy." Rip was quick to connect the dots and that is what made him such a good advisor and servant. Draco's eyes widened in surprise and then delight. He ran off upstairs to put on his armor following Rex's example.

Rex stood up and put on his helmet. With a flick of his hand chains erupted out of his gauntlet and attached themselves to the chains that tie Voldemort's hands. With a forceful pull Voldemort was made to follow to the basin. His eyes couldn't be seen inside the helmet and he was happy for that. They couldn't see the fear in his eyes.

Draco ran to their side and transported with them into what seemed to be a rather large closet filled with potions and other assortment of ingridients. Draco and Rex took of the chains and pushed Voldemort through the door.

The door fell of it's hinges from the force of a body of metal could exert on one surface. The were in an empty hallway with doors on each side. Draco saw Rex nod and push Voldemort to one of the doors.

"Go and wait in one of the empty rooms there." Rex pointed in the direction of the exit while he went to a room two doors away from Havoc's. The door to Havoc's room clicked opened and a rather happy Havoc greeted the armor-clad Voldemort. The second they made eye-contact, Voldemort lost all control and found his body to invouluntarily step into the room.

What was happening? Why is my body moving out of control? Voldemort now stank of fear and was returned to the orphanage where his expressed his fear through harm and evil. He never wanted to feel that emotion ever again.

"You must be getting used to being used like a puppet, aren't you? Either way, you are done for." Havoc stated and pointed his open palm to the wall beside Voldemort. The wall was destroyed by a pulse of energy and sent shards flying all around.

"I will kill you Harry Potter! You can't escape from me for long!" Voldemort roared despite himself, his lips moved on their own and his voice which was his; wasn't his. Two more walls burst into shards. Voldemort saw Havoc put on a terrified face but he knew it was fake. He couldn't do anything about this, he has been used, and he will be discarded. Ironic.

Both of them heard the hall outside fill with footsteps from hurrying mediwizards and witches. Voldemort felt his hand reach out for his wand and shoot Avada Kedavra at Havoc who was ready with his trademark spell Expeliarmus with his wand.

The green and red beams connected and formed a huge ball of golden energy that sprayed sparks and what seemed to me molten magic. A crowd appeared around the demolished room and gasped at the display.

"Surrender, Potter! You are no match for me." Voldemort exclaimed. "No!" Havoc theatrically shouted with his face scrunched up. Voldemort put every fiber of his being that he could control to resist the strange control Havoc had over him, however it was a losing fight. The Pristi was too strong for him. This was the end and Havoc could clearly see it in his eyes.

"Check mate." Havoc whispered loudly enough so only Voldemort could hear it. Then his hand slackened and the golden ball of energy started to slide down his beam. The heat was unbearable and soon would destroy his body, confining him back to the tormenting form that was undeath.

The ball reached him and engulfed him. The armor around him squealed as it was being melted and torn to shreds until it left his body at the mercy of the rampant energy. It was excruciating pain as his flesh was being peeled layer by layer. When it reached his most lower level of muscle and sinew did his body lose every sensation.

Voldemort felt his consciousness leave the confines of the now-destroyed body and was about to flee when the energy latched onto him. He wanted to scream in indignation but had no mouth with which to do so. Then he felt himself being sucked by a vacuum out of the ball and saw his body fall limply onto the floor. His vision was then obstructed by a flesh hand and the magic hooks held him in place inside the fist.

"That was...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" one of the wizards struck up the courage to make a sound after this duel of seemingly epic proportions. Havoc panted and fell onto bed and covered his face. The room was silent when the Aurors decided the body should be removed and Harry Potter left alone.

The destroyed walls were repaired and back in place, leaving Havoc in the darkness. Alone with a still alive Voldemort enclosed in his fist. Havoc started laughing into his hand and laughed like that for a full minute.

The plan worked out splendidly. Havoc didn't expect it to go so well. Another victory, and a big one at that. Now he had the path to the ministry and Dumbledore open. It will finally begin.

"What do you think about the name Slithery, Voldy?"

* * *

><p><strong>I am afraid if I did Kingsley's reaction okay, it felt a bit lame. And you know, I can't just simply kill Voldemort. He is too big of a charatcer, honestly.<strong>

**Sorry for it being shorter than the last ones, if you forgot the reason go back to the top. With this one I preety have a whooping two or three chapters settled in.**

**Thank you for reading and I will await you guys in chapter 12!**


	13. Magic's Touch

**Welcome my reviewers, followers and alertists to Chapter 12 of my Domination Anew saga. Thank you all for your favorites, makes the brain juices flowing too.**

**I apologize the description doesen't say slash but the old letter limit wouldn't let me and I completely forgot about it. If you don't like slash but still like the story then scroll down. Plus I put up a warning that you can surely see from here.**

**Anyway. Thank you again for keeping with me and have a good read :)**

* * *

><p>Chapter 13<p>

Magic's Touch

WARNING! SLASH INCOMING!

Later that evening...

This was wrong.

Emerald eyes glazed with lust locked with ruby reflecting the same barely contained wanting.

This was wrong. On so many levels. Rex was sure what he intended to do was horrible.

Rex buried his face in the crook of Havoc's neck and breathed in the musky scent. Havoc moaned as his member was pressed against both their stomachs. Rex's erection rubbed between Havoc's buttocks and elicited yet another moan of pleasure. The moans were driving Rex over the edge. It felt like an eternity when he made love to someone, and he didn't expect to do it with Havoc of all people.

Havoc straddled him by the waist, pressing their bodies together and kissed and nipped Rex's throat. Rex slightly gasped at the tingling sensation and started to pass his hands over Havoc's entire body that wasn't covered by him. Havoc felt his skin burn as tingles of what he could only explain as rampant magic spark from Rex's fingers and member.

Not wasting any time, Rex positioned his member over Havoc's entrance and saw Havoc's blush with embarrassment and made Rex wonder how it was possible for him to blush anymore. By the heat on his face, he was blushing aswell. Both of them were really new at this and had no idea how to proceed. He has never slept with a male before. Considering how hard and horny he was, he didn't mind.

"I'm going in." Rex huskily whispered and softly pressed inside. Rex saw Havoc slightly wince but the wanting expression quickly replaced it. Rex pressed in at a slower pace until his full length was inside Havoc. Havoc moaned in pleasure, his lips searching for Rex's and were burning when they connected. He clawed at Rex's back from the pleasure. Rex's mouth licked and bit onto his lip, begging it to open. Rex's fangs let out sparks and scarred the flush lips, leaving two cute dots on them. Havoc was happy to oblige. The second he opened Rex's tongue darted in and touched every surface of Havoc's mouth until it started dancing a sensual dance with Havoc's tongue.

Both of them felt the electric sparks as their very magic found their equal and mate, intensifying the sensation tenfold. They kissed and Rex started to pump into Havoc. Their need for air broke the kiss and let them look into each other's eyes. Havoc's eyes were slightly watering from the pain but the pleasure outweighed it by far.

Havoc nipped and sucked on Rex's pale neck, leaving red teeth marks all over. Magic sparked off his fangs as they put their own mark on Rex's flesh. Rex groaned when Havoc decided to focus on his earlobe. The mark on his throat throbbed and turned into a scar with magic seeping out of it.

Rex's thrusts were beginning to become quicker and harder. Havoc buried his face in Rex's chest and moaned with each thrust. Rex took Havoc's member and started to pump it in unison with his thrusts, getting gasps and even more moans from Havoc. Rex grinned.

Rex felt the sensation deep down that he was near. He bent his head to lick the lobe of Havoc's ear and breathed out, "I'm coming.". Havoc locked eyes with Rex, they were full of lust and Havoc claimed Rex's lips.

Their tongues swirled around, exploring and commiting every detail to memory. Rex sped up his thrusts, feeling it coming. With a sexy grunt Rex spilled into Havoc while Havoc's member sprayed their stomachs and chests.

Rex's body quivered from the orgasm along with Havoc's. They relaxed and rolled over with Havoc on top of Rex, gazing lovingly into his lover's eyes. "I love you." Havoc hoarsely whispered.

Rex woke up with a start in his bed, drenched in sweat and soiled underpants. Those green eyes lingered in his peripheral vision in the darkness. A moan vibrated through the bond.

The only explanation Rex could come up with was: they made love through the bond. Rex involuntarily shivered and dazedly went to the bathroom to clean himself and cool his head. He pressed it against the cold stone and opened the ancient-version of a shower. It felt good as the water-cooled his burning flesh.

It was so real, he felt every tiny touch that Havoc placed on him, the mixing of their energies. The end was the thing that disturbed him the most. Rex knew that Havoc was more than fond of him but being told so suddenly and earnestly had Rex without words and scared. Those three words were true, Havoc did indeed love him, and Rex loved him... But how is Havoc feeling now, rejected? Angry? He couldn't know since the bond was now closed. Havoc must be feeling horrible, when Rex left the second he heard those words.

However that didn't mean Rex would admit it to himself, let alone to Havoc. "I love you." Rex repeated Havoc's words and liked how it sounded. He repeated those words over and over until they became strange to him. He felt like a child having his first love, maybe he was one when it came to relationships. Rose was his wife and their relationship was very straightforward which developed out of simple necessity, they only started to care about each other after his long campaign to conquer everything.

Rex still missed Rose, his son, Rex knew that if Rose knew where he was and what was happening, she would have probably beat him to death for even thinking about it or hesitating. Rose would always do what was best for him, she was like that.

In a far better mood, Rex left the bathroom and slumped back into bed and quickly fell asleep with Havoc's name on his lips, and hoped Havoc wasn't grieving his sudden disappearance.

* * *

><p>Havoc woke up in hopes of being in bed with Rex, seeing those red eyes again after such a wonderful experience. Unfortunately it wasn't the case and Havoc woke up in his room back in St. Mungo's. He frowned and felt sticky in his trousers. Needless to say, he enjoyed it a lot. Rex's lustful touches and stares. Havoc's stupored mind could only explain it as electric. He didn't expect to declare his love at that moment, but he did and will stand by it. What scared Havoc was when Rex disappeared from the dream, as if he ran away from him. Rex was probably scared out of his mind when he heard it and could only flee.<p>

Havoc hoped Rex didn't take his declaration too badly.

He groaned and, finding no bathroom in his vicinity, he had to make do with a cleaning spell. A proper shower would have been better.

Havoc started to get bored. How long would they keep him in here? He defeated the Dark Lord for Pete's sake! Nobody gonna congratulate him or something? Then Havoc remembered why his right hand was clenched tightly. Within it beated life, Voldemort's very soul is enclosed and kept there by Havoc's magic. Amazing. To have someone's soul literally at his fingertips. He couldn't see it but the magic it radiated was enough to know it's there. Voldemort's soul was still anchored to this world and Havoc realized that only when he did it.

Amazing.

"And what cruel fate have you in store for me now, Potter." Voldemort's voice echoed like it came from a distance, it phased in and out of existence, high and low. Havoc opened his palm and looked at it. He could see waves of magic fluctuate around an invisible center. The waves looked like the space around it bended, the same effect air did over a fire. He wondered how Voldemort knew what was happening around him without any senses or a body.

"Uh-uh, no questions. It will be a surprise." Havoc then moved Voldemort's soul from his palm to the hollow between his clavicles, enjoying the warm and electric feeling Voldemort exudes. Maybe he could put him in a necklace? A collar, maybe?

"If you put me into a necklace, I will rip you apart!" Voldemort roared. The lack of consistency and force made it less than intimidating and amusing at best. Havoc snorted, "All you could do is give me a rash. I'm thinking about a snake, would fit your personality."

Voldemort didn't reply, Havoc felt angry sparks tickle his throat. He smirked. And then Havoc decided he has had enough of sitting in the bloody room with nothing to do and the constant pain those bruises and cuts gave him. He healed them easily and jumped out of bed.

A frown marred his face as he was only wearing a patient's robe and nothing else undernath. He was about to take off the robe when a very angry and embarrased jolt shocked him. Havoc forgot all about Voldemort being here. A slight blush crept on his face.

"Spare me of your fantasies and appearances, Potter."

"Yeah, yeah." Havoc grumbled in embarrassment and pushed Voldemort into his throat before putting on clean clothes that were in a cabinet. When he was done dressing he pulled Voldemort out and got a very irritated response, "I didn't say I wanted to see the inside of your throat."

"Well, you did. Wanna argue about it?" Havoc grinned as he inspected himself in the mirror. There wasn't much to see, a plain white T-shirt, new jeans and some shoes Havoc worried that the person getting them knew shoe numbers. They were a tight fit, but a fit nonetheless. It was a surprise that there were muggle clothes in the closet. They must know his preferences to muggle clothing than robes and all that ridiculous crap.

Havoc then walked over to the door and felt the spells on it. Locking spells, wards. There was a good portion of spells that would fill half a book about defenses. They really wanted to protect him.

He knocked and hoped there wasn't a ward to keep sounds from coming out of the room. Havoc's hope was answered as a silhouette appeared at the door's window and Arthur's voice came through, "You awake, Harry?"

"Yeah, can you please let me out? I want to stretch my legs."

The door was unlocked with a key with the wards intact. Arthur opened it slightly and a grin spread over his tired face with bags under his eyes. "How are you doing?" Arthur asked, sounding the same as always, cheery.

Havoc nodded, "I feel fine, Mr. Weasley. Can I take a walk? The potions the healers gave me took care of the bruises." He showed his arm was back to its normal tone, if pale was normal at any rate. Arthur looked at the offered arm and opened the door wider. "Sure, but only inside the hospital. We could have breakfast, I'm starving."

Havoc nodded. He didn't really think that Arthur could have been one of those fifty Aurors. It was a disturbing possibility he could have cut him down without even noticing and just step over his dead body. If it was at all possible, Havoc felt a pang of remorse for the man, losing his colleagues like that. Arthur's face didn't show the pain he must be surely suffering from the loss and Havoc was glad for it, he didn't want to feel anything more than that little pang.

Arthur ate voraciously until he noticed Havoc's stare and started to eat a lot slower. He mumbled an apology with full mouth, such a Weasley characteristic. If Molly was here she would whack Arthur across the head with a rolling-pin for having bad manners. Havoc ate the eggs and bacon with far less enthusiasm than his guardian.

Arthur looked at him worriedly and swallowed, "You must be still shaken after Voldemort attacked you in your sleep. Bloody hell, I never expected he would sneak in here." yet another hit would have descended upon Arthur's head.

Havoc slightly nodded, "Guess so." Arthur was finished with his plate when Havoc barely ate anything. Suprisingly, Havoc wasn't that hungry like he used to.

_"Your magic sustains you, Sire. That is why the Pristi have been the greatest soldiers on all battlefields. They didn't need food to function until they have spent a great amount of magic." _Rip explained and Havoc slightly jumped. He mentally hissed at his advisor but welcomed the explanation. The minion was an encyclopedia of everything.

Arthur noticed the twitch. He solemnly shook his head. "Life has really been hard on you. Getting your family killed, escaped death each year at Hogwarts. I can't blame you for taking that way. Sorry, I shouldn't be saying that, it's rude."

Havoc shook his head, "It's in the past, all I can do now is move on. Voldemort is finally dead and I will, hopefully, lead a normal life." Arthur smiled at the wise words, the fights with Voldemort have really made Harry into a wise young man.

"But you really should be eating something, put some meat on those bones." Arthur sounded more like Molly at that moment. Havoc remembered the Weasleys fondly by the scraps he still had of his time with them. A family he never had. They will be the first to be saved.

"How are things at the Ministry, I was isolated from the world for an entire year." Havoc wanted to know what Arthur thought about the goings on in the ministry. Maybe even some info about some corrupted officials.

"It's a disaster! First there was the utter destruction of the Auror office, now there are ten of them left. Kingsley was the only one to survive in an attempt to arrest of, who we now know, Voldemort out of fifty men. There are also strange arrests on who knows what grounds, money going somewhere it shouldn't. I suspect one of the Unspeakables is smuggling artefacts but I can't find any evidence to prove it."

"An Unspeakable?" Havoc wasn't aware of such a position in the ministry. Arthur nodded, "They work in the Department of Mysteries and are not allowed to talk about what they are doing there. There is probably a section with artefacts, and if they are in that department, they are very dangerous."

"Look at me, boring you with ministry stuff, you should be outside, living. Not holed up here with nothing to do. What do you say I get Ron and Hermione to come visit you?"

Havoc smiled a fake smile, "I would like that." Havoc lied. He didn't despise the two but he sure as hell didn't like him. They did nothing to comfort him or pull him out of the choking depression that finally led to a lethal outcome. Sometimes Havoc wished he died on that day. Although those thoughts were diminishing day by day.

Arthur led Havoc back to his room and said goodbye. Arthur's post was filled by an Auror who had a big scar on his cheek. It must have hung back when he got it. The Auror slightly bowed and greeted with a gravely voice, "Potter."

Havoc returned the greeting. The Potter thing bugged him. He didn't expect it to have such an effect on him but it did, it sent irritating memories back each time he heard it.

"You are one sly little vixen, Potter. Lying to your former friends? How quaint." Voldemort hissed in delight from his perch on Havoc's throat. "Former." Havoc stressed the word and slightly blushed at the vixen part. He did consider himself more on the wild side. He sat down on the bed and layed on it, his now longer hair splayed over the white covers. Black striped with gray.

Boredom soon settled in the room like dust. Havoc's eyebrow twitched in response to the faint microscopic cracks of energy coming from Voldemort who seemed to be inert. What a strange person Voldemort was. Cold and calculative, with outbursts of hot emotion. He was as unreadable like the sea and air, a soft wave or breeze suddenly becoming a violent storm that would destroy anything in its path. Havoc knew little of Voldemort's past or the reasons for such a character and felt like he should know it.

You're an idiot Havoc. Not the time in being sentimental about the fucker who tried to murder you six years straight.

Then Havoc felt the atmosphere change, just like when he woke up just after someone left his room. There were two pulses somewhere above him and were distinct from the small dots that were closed cores of the wizards and witches. Conduits moved left and right and were inside the hospital. His eyes were wide like saucers.

Rip talked about the other Pristi but Havoc didn't expect to meet some here, England was supposed to be barren of them. And now two of them were in the hospital and Havoc knew he was here, he doubted they would be here because they needed medical aid.

How strong where they? It was hard to determine due to their conductive nature, magic flowed in and out of them. Would he be able to beat them? How the heck do they mean to get to him? There is a whole hospital to go through without being seen.

If that was so, how did someone get into his room without anyone noticing?

Havoc jumped off the bed and searched around the room for anything metal that would be of use. He settled with a tray made of inox and with his own hand as his only weapon. While he was searching for anything else, the two balls in Havoc's mind were now on the same level.

Surely that Auror would deter them, right? Havoc hopefully thought and that hope was shattered as he heard someone fall onto the floor beside his door. The wards on the door were shattered but wasn't opened. They must be expecting that he will burn them to cinders the second the door opened.

Clever bastards.

The door creaked open ever so slightly and a hand was presented in a placating manner. Not the smartest of ideas. Havoc eyed the hand in suspicion until the door was opened even more to reveal that the owner of the hand was a bald man taller than him a few inches dressed in muggle clothes. Havoc could see the other ball was still hidden behind the wall.

"Hey," the man swaggered in with a calm face that showed only that the man was feeling fine. "You Harry Potter, right?"

Now, when someone knew Havoc's former name that meant two things: a Death Eater - which was unlikely - since the man was dressed in muggle clothing and two: he worked for Dumbledore, maybe. Havoc must have also looked stupid with that tray in his hand.

"What does it mean to you?" Havoc defensively asked, not lowering the inox tray an inch.

The bald man pulled the chair beside the bed and straddled it, putting his hand on the back. He turned to the door, "Oi! You gonna sit there and be pissed off, or what? This was your idea."

Havoc noticed that the man's accent was far from british. Through the door walked in a very peeved woman of striking beauty with her tan and orderly hair put into a high ponytail. She glared death at her companion. "I wouldn't be pissed if you didn't just stun that man outside and then put your hand through the door without even knowing what the kid would do!"

The man playfuly scoffed, they acted like brother and sister. "My hand is still here, init'?"

The woman sighed in exasperation and directed her attention at the reason they were here in the first place.

"You know we are like you, you wouldn't have expected us if you didn't. Will you please answer my brother's question." The woman said with strict english tones and mannerisms a drill sergeant would be proud of.

Seeing not much harm in telling them, Havoc answered, "Yes. But what do I have to do with anything?"

"You aren't really aware of what kind of shitstorm you could cause, are you? Well, let us explain. You have endangered our already dying out race with your not so subtle actions. Keep doing it and a good part of Europe would clean house, including ours. But we didn't come to warn you, we have come to ask you for your help." The woman was visibly uncomfortable in asking for help. All the while the man's joking face was gone and in its place was an expression of extreme seriousness.

"Yeah, quite a shocker eh? Who would have thought, the mighty Pristi calling for help."

"Shut up. As I-" she began but stopped as two plates erupted on either side of Havoc. The air above then was replaced with Draco and Rex in their respective armors. White and black, the dragon and the wolf. Havoc couldn't help but send a lustful glance Rex's way who didn't catch it while glaring at the two intruders.

Rex did catch it. He didn't meet it, though. He was too scared to see the resentment and rejection in Havoc's eyes. It would be too much for him.

"Where were you two?" Havoc asked in restrained anger. Did he have to ask for them to come and help him, or what? "Turns out it takes time for the connection to open depending on the distance and defences a location has put on it." Draco said, not caring to conceal he wasn't pissed off. Havoc knew Draco was still pissed off for not knowing he was fine.

"Ajme meni," Kristina spoke in her native language out of habit. "There is three of you? Fully armored and armed? The Concil has right to fear you."

Rex lowered his claymore, feeling no hostility in either of the two strangers. Draco didn't share Rex's instinct and didn't sheath his daggers nor did he let up his scrutinizing gaze. Rex will have to train some restraint into the blonde, he is doing okay now but how would he react to a more stressful situation? Rex considered how fragile Draco really was when it came to the well-being of Havoc and the little time it took for Draco to drop every sensible action to worry if Havoc was okay.

Havoc felt a lot safer now that Draco and Rex were here, armored and ready to jump any moment on these two Pristi if they so much as looked at him wrong. It was evident in their eyes that they were aware of their situation but pressed on. "As I was saying. We are practically asking you to lead us."

"Lead you?" Havoc really didn't understand but was happy to hear what they had to say. The hospital wasn't the best place for having covert discussions with other Pristi, though. As if Rex sensed what Havoc was feeling, which he probably did. "We should continue this conversation later, this place isn't safe. Someone will stumble upon the knocked out guard outside the room and cause a commotion." He gestured to the stone plates just behind him.

The two Pristi looked increduously at them, "You can't be serious."

Oh, but Rex was serious. He didn't take kindly to anyone endangering Havoc in any way, and he will make sure if they did they would pay dearly. He nodded and didn't take no for an answer.

"I suggest you listen to him." Havoc recommended. The man whispered something urgently to his partner before reluctantly passed by the juggernaut that was Rex and disappeared the second he stepped onto the plate. The woman followed close second. Rex followed them while Draco stayed a while longer.

"We have some unfinished business," Draco growled and stalked over to Havoc. Draco looked intimidating with his hungry eyes glowing in his helmet and how his footsteps were utterly silent. Havoc backed away a bit until he had his back to the wall. Draco slammed his hands on each side of Havoc's head on the wall. "Never make me worry like that, ever."

Havoc let out a breath in relief, he thought Draco meant something else or was back for revenge like that time at the basin. "I didn't know you cared, Draco." He turned his relieved face into a mischevous one.

Draco's hands balled into fists and his eyes narrowed. "Of course I care, you git. How couldn't I?" Havoc felt pity for Draco. To love someone so much it hurt and not have them, but Havoc's heart beated for another. "Draco... You know we can't be together. You hurt me too much that I can't feel for you, I just can't after what you've done to me." Regret washed over Draco, he was stupid, fearing those feelings and acting upon them with anger. Only did he realize it was love when Harry was gone and would never come back. Harry was gone and Havoc took his place. Havoc despite his cold exterior still held a fragment of Harry's feelings but that wasn't enough and never will for Draco.

Draco backed away slowly from Havoc and stepped onto the plate behind and disappeared. Havoc sighed and ran his hand through his hair in habit. He wanted to follow Draco but had no idea what to say anymore. He also didn't want to have a chat with Ron or Hermione when there were far more important things needing his attention.

"Everything keeps falling in your lap." Voldemort stated in a disgruntled tone. "A welcome change, Voldemort." Havoc replied as he left the room and enervated the stuned Auror and wiped his memory. Then he returned to his room and replaced most and if not all the wards that were placed upon it. Having magic made life alot easier, but having the ability that makes it so malleable to your wishes and not needing incantations made it even more easier.

Havoc breathed in deeply and braced himself mentally for the barrage of questions Ron and Hermione would surely assault him with.

* * *

><p>Zoran stumbled into the throne room. This manner of transportation was far more comfortable than Apparition that made you feel like you were sucked through a tube and made your retch. Wizards had alot of their spells going against the flow of magic and whenever Zoran used one of them he felt dirty. This mode felt like his very body became magic in that split second until materializing at the exit point.<p>

He looked in awe at the rich decor and Kristina joined him in the gawking. Original castle walls and drapes hanging above them. The long rustic long table looked like it dated back to the 14th century and beyond. These guys were going full on old school. Blue light pulsing from behind him caught his attention, it was coming from the depths of the pool. He leaned forward and could see deep below a large orb of white.

Kristina stepped over to her brother, curious what distracted him. She felt the intense glare at the back of her neck of the huge black knight. It wasn't hard to notice the glowing outline of an orb in the pool and she stiffled a gasp with her hand. "Do you think that is what I think it is?"

"Impossible." Kristina managed out with disbelief in her voice. Rex had to cough really loud to distract the pair who seemed to find the depths of the pool very interesting, for some strange reason. Kristina and Zoran reluctantly looked away and faced their host, and possible warden.

Rex said nothing but simply gestured them to have a seat on the bench which had probably been sat upon by countless warriors, and in this case, minions. Strangely enough, there weren't any since they were usually all over the place. "Rip." Rex called. Like clockwork Rip came from one of the many stairways that led into other mostly unknown parts of Hogwarts depths. Rex smirked inside his helmet when he heard the gasps come from his visitors.

Rip waddled over and bowed to his SIre. "Yes, Sire? What do you require?"

"Where are all the minions?" Rex asked. The absence of them was chilling, the atmosphere was cold without their manical laughter and chaos.

"It is the annual Minion Carnage, Sire." Rip replied and then leaned over to see the two who are now in heated discussion.

"You just left him there?" Zoran glared at his horrible sister. She didn't even feel guilty for leaving Carlyle alone in an abandoned store for two days. Zoran thought his sister would do better than that. "He is a nuisance." Kristina defended herself. Zoran shook his head.

"Guests, or prisoners, Sire?" Rip asked. Rex looked at them and deemed them to not be dangerous or hostile, for now. "Guests." he replied. Kristina and Zoran put their discussion on hold, focusing on the matters at hand.

"We haven't introduced ourselves. Kristina and Zoran Gotal, Brand dynasty." She and Zoran put their fists forward and let the minion and Overlord see burnt skin on their fingers and knuckles. The scars connected into a shape of what looked like a wicked trident. Their movements were practiced, ingrained in reflex for doing it every morning and evening bowing to their father and to others during the numerous parties father managed to organize. Rip's face went dark and menacing.

"Were my old master still alive, you two would be hanging by your entrails on the front gates." Rex was stunned by the sudden change is Rip's demeanour, he must be holding an age old grudge, or feud more like it. Kristina's and Zoran's faces portrayed intense fear and worry.

"A grudge?" Rex sat down in his throne and saw Draco appear far back, he was even more pissed considering his tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. "More than a grudge, Sire. The former Brand Vanguard frequently betrayed the English branch, each causing death except the Potter family." The expressions on the two Brand Pristi told that they had no knowledge of any feuds the English had with their family. So much for teaching your children history.

The Minion master grumbled and finally removed his eyes from his hated enemies and faced his lord. "You require anything else?" he asked, anger absent in his voice. Everyone in the room was disturbed by it, and even made Draco pause and look at the minion.

"No." Rex was brief and was glad that the minion left the room in the direction of the arena. Maybe the tournament will lift his spirits. Draco grumbled something Rex couldn't catch and left the throne room up the stairs. Rex was then left alone with two pale Pristi who were speechless in their seats. Rex leaned foward and gave an audible sigh. "You were saying." He was getting annoyed by the constant interruptions.

Kristina found her voice and composure first so she was the one to explain. "You are aware of how few of our race still lives. Over the years we have grown apart and soon we will start fighting eachother for supremacy. I have thought of a way to stop us from tumbling into our extinction. _Ritus Regulae_, the Rite of Rule. It was a tournament created when Arthur of Camelot's line was wiped out that decided which family will rule for the next ten years." Kristina stopped to let it sink in for Rex."Do not insult my intelligence." Rex rumbled from his throne.

Kristina slightly yelped and continued. "We are here because the Potter family has been undefeated in the Rite until they disappeared couple of centuries ago. We hope that kid would win again and unite all the families and clans under one banner."

"All of the families will attend?" Rex asked. He was new to tournaments even though they were popular where he lived. Also there was a distinct lack of memories or knowledge that have anything to do with tournaments, although Rex did understand the basics. Him and Havoc are two amnesiacs stumbling down a dark path which bellies many outcomes. It was ridiculous.

"Yes, but the strongest families would compete only. It will be held in the Alps, if you agree." Kristina nodded warily. Both she and Zoran knew that they were treading on thin ice. They have no knowledge of how this man could react. They wisely kept silent, waiting for the man to finish pondering their explanation.

Faint echoes came from behind them in the direction of the staircase leading down to the arena. They were cheers, Kristina recognized them despite how low it was. The silence was only briefly interrupted by the said echoes and nervous shuffling from Zoran. Rex looked to the two like a set of armor frozen in time, the red eyes didn't move from their focus on something on the floor while rays of light coming from a shaft behind the thrones revealed dust falling on him like snow.

Kristina wondered who really was under that armor. It was a fascination of hers, to find out what was hiding beneath the mask and helmet. She recorded every move and gesture the knight has shown and found them to be from a very medieval upbringing. It was also a survival habit, Kristina needed to know from where and who a person was just by looking at them, it proved numerous times to be a good skill to have. Zoran wasn't far from her, too, but he was far more trusting than his older sister. Young naiveté.

"It is for Havoc to agree to this, since this revolves around him. I will tell him as soon as I can." Little did they know, Rex told Havoc everything during his long pause. He, of course, kept his tone as indifferent as possible and evaded any and all connections to their dream. Havoc was surely sore about it but the boy didn't give any clue if he felt rejected or angry. Rex was puzzled at best, scared at worst. "You know you are not leaving here until Havoc returns."

Kristina would have scoffed if she was dealing with someone less threatening, of course they knew that leaving now was out of the question. They wouldn't be here if they didn't. Both of them nodded even though Rex stated more than asked.

Yet another, now much louder, cheer found it's way to the Throne room. The event must be reaching or has already reached it's climax. Rex spotted a very hungry and slightly sad glint in Kristina's yellow eyes - a strange eye colour. Zoran on the other hand looked drained and pale. His hand constantly rubbed his bald head like he had an invisible mop of hair. Then his face frowned. "May I have a request?"

His sister instantly lost the regretful look and glared at her brother. "What are you doing?" She hissed. Zoran ignored her. Rex entertained his guest. "Yes?"

"There is a guy we left back. Could you bring him here? He is alone and can't defend himself properly." Zoran hoped he didn't pull the wrong string in the man, and hoped Carlyle wasn't dumb enough to not listen to his sister's order to stay put. Rex felt merciful today, how queer with all the conflict raging inside him. "Lizard's Tail. That's the store's name." Kristina perked up.

Rex raised his hand and the horn boomed. He called forth a select platoon of heavily armored browns. Leading them was a minion who's helmet is the shape of a skull with a golden insignia branded onto its forehead. The minions saluted rather mockingly except their leader who seemed to find his job leaving no room for jokes. "Sire."

Rex was pleasantly surprised to see such a serious minion except that doctor or Rip, and wondered how many of these specimens still existed. But that was for another time. "Go to Lizard's Tail and retrieve the Pristi there." Rex ordered. The minion commander nodded and lead the heavily armored and armed platoon to the pool. He ignored the incredulous expressions on the two Pristi's faces while his subordinates provoked with raspberries and sticking out their rather colourful tongues.

Kristina and Zoran were too engrossed in seeing the true servants of the Pristi people who have been with them from the beginning to react to their insults and provocation. Unfortunately ever since the Pristi civilization was effectively eradicated by the pursuing wizard kind they have lost their minions and respect from most of the magical world.

Minion Commander Krin was the first to appear in a dusty closet full of glass jars with questionable organic materials inside. Shortly after his arrival the first row of three minions from his platoon bumped into his back, their armor rattled like pots and pans. Krin grumbled and slowly opened the door leading out of the closet.

More dust invaded his wide nostrils and made him cough. The room they entered seemed to be the backroom of the shop. Silence hung like a drape all over it with quiet snickers coming from behind him. This kind of silence wasn't the good kind, it was the deathly kind of silence that made your guts go cold and in knots. Something wasn't right.

Krin ordered with a simply hand gesture for the minions to spread around the room. The minions knew this kind of silence, too, and made sure not to disturb it with any needless noise. Contrary to popular belief, Minions actually were serious in their job as much as the next guy and were extremely professional, even though their appearance bellies no such thing.

The room was clear and had to doors on either side. Old chairs and tables with strange instruments lined the once-white walls that are now brown and black. One of the minions to the door on Krin's left peeked through the peep-hole and whispered, "Back alley."

Sire Rex said their quarry was inside the shop so they didn't go outside. Krin walked over to remaining door and slowly opened it. The room behind them was in disarray, tracks on the dusty floor along with a big puddle of blood told that a fight sprung up here. Shattered wood littered the floor along with a good amount of scorch marks. Right next to the congealed bloodpool was a severed arm. Krin and his comrades saw much worse in their day and didn't react to it and entered the room.

There was no sign of the Pristi they have been sent to find.

"Search around the shop." Krin ordered and went to inspect the room in further detail. Like all magical creatures, he had an affinity to magic and recognized the magic ebbing from the severed arm to be of Pristi origin. While the scorch marks and splintered wood stank of filthy wizard magic. Krin was a veteran from many wars his masters lead both against the usurping wizardkind and their own kin. His own hatred towards the wizards had grown immense over his lifespan of 400 years and rivaled even the hate of his own masters. A very distracting quality.

There was nothing more to divine from the scene and his subordinates haven't found anything outside. Krin nodded and requested for a portal.

* * *

><p>Havoc blankly stared into the mirror opposite of him from his bed. He was thinking, envisioning all the possibilities his future might hold. Rex told him what those two Pristi said, about the Rite of Rule. If he won, WHEN he won, he would be king to a race of fearsome and powerful beings that everyone fears and respects. It was mind-boggling how it passed only a month when he was brought back from the dead and now he was being offered to what seemed to amount to unlimited power and complete rule of the world. Few people had the opportunity to even reach something like that, and like those people, he had no idea what to do.<p>

He could bet even Voldemort didn't plan too far ahead or even had a faint glimpse of the future he was working towards. Maybe he did, but noone could truly look into the future. Now Havoc wondered what plans did Voldemort have, hopes and life. Ironic to wonder what kind of person was your personal killer with a god complex.

Then the door opened and a bushy mop of hair peeked in. Havoc wanted to feel resentment and hatred towards them but found it half-hearted at best. They were that line that held him in place all those years before his suicide, the glue that unfortunately couldn't keep him together anymore. Havoc felt that it was for the better, if he didn't jump in that hole, he wouldn't have met Rex. That man made it worth it.

A small smile creased on Havoc's face and an encouraged Hermione entered with Ron Weasley close behind with his twin brothers and younger sister. Havoc could remember that Ginny had some feelings for him but that was as far as he could get. More than half of his life was taken by his attempt. Atleast he remembered very well his former close friends.

Ginny stayed back from the group, holding a hand over her mouth to keep the rising sobs inside. The person her brothers and friend were hugging wasn't Harry. There was no physical distinction between him and Harry, but this impostor felt a lot different to Ginny and was mortified to feel it.

"He is not Harry. "Ginny mumbled to herself and left the room. Her escape wasn't unnoticed and George went after her, worry on his face. Fred, Ron and Hermione frowned. Ginny still hasn't gotten over Harry's jump and they thought it would do her good to see him alive. Havoc frowned, too, but for a different reason.

"Oh, Harry. We missed you. I'm so glad you are okay." Hermione hugged Harry one more time. "You're not the only one, Mione." Ron grumbled and gave a reassuring pat on Havoc's shoulder. "You sure you missed me?" Havoc asked with a low tone. Few of his memories of Ron and Hermione's neglect of him will be forever etched into his mind. And the hatred and loneliness along with it.

Everyone was shocked to hear Harry say something like that. "Of course we did, Harry. What we did to you is unforgivable, we deserve it if you hate us." Hermione's eyes were starting to brim with tears. Ron was instantly to provide bodily comfort to his girlfriend and wanted to glare at Harry for hurting her but he had no right to do that and knew better.

"We should have been there for you. We should have been more observant..." Hermione choked and stopped before she started crying. Ron rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, it was expected that Hermione would open the water works when they would meet Harry again. He himself had a tear in his eye and felt crushing regret well up inside him. Yes, what they did to him was unforgivable. Yes, they should have been there for him. They were too ignorant to their friend's suffering despite going through Voldemort's schemes together. They had families to comfort him while Harry's own relatives tortured him. Why didn't Dumbledore do something about it? Why did he let it happen?

"You should have, " Havoc stared them down, "What's done is done." Hermione wiped her tears, a question rolled up in her mind 'You forgive us?'. Of course he didn't, only a fool would think that he would ever forgive them. Keeping their neglect of him out of his mind, Harry opened an avenue that would someday lead back to friendship. Fred patted Hermione on the back, "I will go check on George and Ginny. Don't kidnap him while I'm gone." Fred joked in an attempt to lighten the mood and left in search of his brother and sister.

Hermione took a chair and sat down while Ron took a spot behind her. With their feelings out of the way, for now, they could discuss about the happenings at Hogwarts. "Harry. Hogwarts was attacked. There was this knight who declared vendetta upon Dumbledore and the Wizarding world for mistreating you. He went as far as to kill McGonagall." More tears sprung up in Hermione's eyes. She missed her old Headmistress, it was painful to think she was killed.

"I know. Voldemort was kind enough to pay me a visit, too." Havoc answered sarcastically. Ron's and Hermione's face became even sadder. "I'm so sorry..." Hermione sobbed out. "Ron's dad didn't say anything about what happened..." She looked at her boyfriend and saw Ron shrug, he wasn't told too.

"Can I trust you?" Havoc asked narrowing his eyes and the threats inside them was easily read by Ron and Hermione.

"Sure you can, mate."

* * *

><p><strong>I do hope not a lot of you have been put off by Rex's little sexual fantasy. Slash will not be as frequent as it is in some other fanfictions so have no fear of suddenly stumbling upon one. That's what warning signs are for :)<strong>


	14. Breathe For Me

**Hello and welcome to Chapter 13 my Reviewers, Favorites and Alertist! Today I give you a shorter installation to my DA story. Testing out a bit of my writing to see how it goes and so far its somewhat meh TBH. Hope I don't hurt your eyes with this one.**

**Now onward!**

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><p>Chapter 13<p>

Breathe For Me

Deep within the confines of Elethea Manor Carlyle found refuge amongst his family that sleeps the eternal dream. The Elethea family is drawing it's last hitched breaths as Carlyle dressed his cauterised stub that was once connected to a forearm and hand.

Dust poured down as the ceiling of the catacombs and everything above it was disturbed by still futile attempts from a small army of Pristi hunters who have somehow found him and cut off half his arm. Carlyle hissed his discomfort and grief; it was enough for the pain to knock him out were he a human, but his Pristi instincts and base needs screamed at him to keep awake and take - if possible - as many of them with him.

Carlyle would gladly listen to them if he had guts, which he had none. He was never hurt this bad in his entire life and didn't know how to deal with it. He was on the verge of panic and crying. Begging to his ancestors came to him at one point but Carlyle refrained from it to preserve a bit of dignity he had left.

He was resting on the floor with his back against the coffin of his father, by heart-ache he joined the flow with three centuries to his name. It was ironic for his son who declared he would cheat death and bring back his mother from it's clutches. "Sorry, Mother. Sorry, Father. I can't go on. I'm too scared and too weak. Please forgive me." Tears were starting to well up and run down his face. What a fool he was. He never truly considered himself a god, far from it but he was naive to attempt anything close to defying the laws of nature. It may not have caused his end, however the hunters above will.

"Don't give up, little brother." Carlyle's second nature sparked as it always did somewhere in the back of his mind. It was the beast, blood lust and such deviance that Carlyle has never shown it ever since he slaughtered a hunter that dared to stray in their woods. The blood was still fresh in his mind and urged his older brother out until his left eye turned from the soft gray into feral yet calculating cobalt.

"I'm bleeding, brother. Half of my arm is gone." Carlyle roughly spoke, his throat raw from both screaming and dust. "You are damaged. I can't let that stand. Move, brother. Blood must be spilled in compensation." Carlyle didn't order his body to stand up, Revant now had control over it and the magic it could conduct. Carlyle and his separate personality shared one body and each could take control, but little brother had keywords to restrain his wayward killing instinct that has a will of it's own. Revant looked at the left missing forearm with a look of anger.

"Last time I had to resort to twigs, teeth and nails. Time to use your healing expertise," Revant was all giddy as he passed the sleeping statues that flanked him down the dusty and unlit hallway. Carlyle was now simply an observer, his view still where he had it but now his left eye caught motions with pinpoint accuracy of a trained eye. Everything looked far more detailed than Carlyle thought possible. Revant activated their body to it's peak of killing and surviving proficiency.

Revant then turned a corner and made Carlyle wonder what his 'older brother' had in mind instead of bloodshed. Surely if they went out there they would meet their demise and Carlyle felt like that might not be a bad thing, after all. "But we need to pick something uo first. Our father had it made for us." Revant continued and stopped before what seemed to be a tall, stone closet. He opened it and looked at what seemed to be a robe and how it hanged on the holder it weighed a lot.

Thanks to Revant's good eyesight Carlyle could recognize that the robe was made out of scales that could have only come from a dragon. They reflected light that came from nowhere. Beneath the scales was a layer of leather reinforced with metal strands and rings, many pockets dotted it aswell. Just beneath the robe was a set of metal plates along with greaves, boots, bracers and gloves that had no signs of dust on them.

Revant donned the armor and hood. The Elethea simbol was burnt into a scale on the chest and gleamed bright green as it was fed magic from it's wearer. Revant slightly slouched under the weight until the robe adjusted. He tugged on his glove with his teeth and whispered. "It will be their blood I will utilize. Close your eyes, brother. You are not ready for what I am about to do."

Carlyle nodded even though Revant couldn't truly see him since he had no control of his own body, but knew his brother felt it and went into the blissful state of hibernation until Revant fulfilled his purpose.

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><p>The hallway was silent as Rex walked down it, only disturbance of the silence being the faint clanks of metal against stone. Like silent and obedient shadows Zoran and Kristina followed their host - or captor more like it. Rex stopped as he reached the residential part of the castle's underbelly and pointed at one door to his right. "Your room. A guard will be outside."<p>

On que, a minion appeared from out of nowhere as they tended to do and stopped beside the door with a halberd in his hand.

The two behind Rex nodded a bit reluctantly which was to be expected when being in the presence of someone who wouldn't hesitate to kill them if they tried anything. Their faces were hopeful and looked like they would burst into questions but they held their tongues. Rex was glad for that because he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of two young people with his ignorance of their own world. He then continued down the hall to his own bedroom, or was it his? Havoc would certainly have something to say about it when the boy returned.

Bemused, Rex entered his room and failed to notice the shift in atmosphere of the room. The ingrained senses of danger activated only when Rex already felt something hit his thigh and scrape it. He looked down and saw a sword's blade being deflected by his greaves. Instinctively Rex spun around and brought around his fist upon the malice he felt from behind. His fist collided with something metal and sent the said metal object flying across the room.

It was a metal mask. Rex hoped he managed to decapitate his assassin or atleast break his or hers neck but he was not that lucky. The assassin - a man as Rex could now see - ducked in time to evade the deadly force, although his helmet did get caught in the swing. surprisingly so, the man was nimble enough to send yet another swing at Rex's side. Rex doubted the long sword could penetrate his armor but this man obviously knew what he was doing and dodging the swing seemed like a good idea.

Rex stepped back and sparks flew of his chest as the sword's tip streaked across it. Rex would have used his claymore if he had time to unsheath it from it's scabbard across his back so he had to resort to hand-to-hand against a blade, or use the gun so conveniently placed inside his gauntlet. He pulled a set of strings to open the compartment and then the string that fired it. His hand erupted into flame and smoke as the primitive firearm fired it's load into the clearly unsuspecting assassin.

The man jerked as the large bullet hit him in the chest and fell on his back, motionless. Rex waved away the smoke. There was a marble-sized hole in the man's chest and seemed to have easily went through the ribcage and into the organs beneath, sending his body into a system shutdown while he was still alive. Rex could only guess in what pain the man must be if he was even aware of it, Rex was never impaled or shot in his life and wanted to keep it that way as long as he could.

How did the man get inside the castle unnoticed was now the question that bothered Rex. This man knew what he was going up against and was very skilled, but sorely uneducated to the wonders of muggle weaponry as it seemed so Rex concluded that he was probably a wizard. A short scream came from the hall and shook Rex out of his thought. He drew his claymore and ran into the corridor.

If it was possible for them to sneak into Hogwarts, then they would have no problems getting into St. Mungo's. Havoc was in danger!

_"Havoc!" _Rex mentally blurted out his emotion without noticing and he didn't really care if he did. _"Get out of the hospital! Now! Hogwarts is under attack."_

Three hundred miles away in London Havoc shook when his head started ringing with Rex's worried voice. Havoc nodded and didn't ask any questions, he had a feeling Rex had no idea what or who was attacking them only that they did and that Havoc was in danger.

Were he not a bit scared he would have grumbled in anger for being disturbed. He was enjoying the pale, motionless faces of his two former friends. The only thing of warm colour was Ron's hair and the blood smears on their foreheads from Havoc's palm. Their mouths wide open in shock, pain and fear. Havoc showed Ron and Hermione everything that happened to him, what he felt and endured his entire life. His emotions and feelings were transferred along with them and made themselves welcome in the recipients mind.

Havoc got out of bed and gently shook them until their eyes returned to focus. Hermione choked on sobs, Ron on the other hand was angry. Ron felt rage, anger and betrayed, some of them were from Havoc but the rest was his own. He and Hermione relived Havoc's life and all the pain he endured. "Har-" Ron started. "Havoc. What I, Hermione, Dumbledore, Voldemort...what we did to you is unforgivable. If there is anything me and Hermione can do for you, ask. Just ask." Havoc was ecstatic, he was surprised and shocked at how maturely Ron was taking it all in his stride. Hermione was still hiccuping when she nodded. That's all it took for Havoc to feel that lost camaraderie he shared with those two.

"C'mon, we have to get out of here." Havoc kept his tone level to hide his raging emotions. Ron and Hermione looked at him with cocked eyebrows that looked extremely funny since they both still have visible traces of shock on their faces. "Go? Har-" Hermione began and then stopped, more tears sprung in her eyes before she continued. "Havoc, you can't leave the hospital yet, although I think you are well and good to leave."

"Will explain when we get out of here." Havoc felt a cluster of dots fill the back of his mind and they were rushing to their location. He had to hurry. A low rumble and sounds of stone rubbing against stone filled the room as a plate erupted in the middle of the room, magic shining around it. Ron and Hermione eye-balled the plate due to it's sudden appearance and were reluctant to approach it. Havoc motioned that it was safe and that they needed to hurry.

"Just step on it, it's safe. Mione you first." Hermione slightly smiled when Havoc used her nickname, and felt a bit more comfortable in stepping onto it. If Havoc says it safe, then it's safe. The moment she stepped onto the plate Hermione had a curious sensation. It was like she became one with everything and everyone at the precise moment and felt at peace until she found herself stumbling back on her two legs she completely forgot about a moment ago into a long hall lined with suits of armor and royal banners.

"Where am I?" she asked into the air. Her eye caught movement. She spun around and faced a huge statue of a knight tall as three of her and wielding a sword as thick as a person. A glint of hidden intelligence came from it's glowing blue eyes. Hermione was about to back away when she bumped into Ron as he materialized behind her on yet another plate. "Man, that is weird." Ron wobbled just like Hermione did. "Bloody hell." he continued and got a smack for it from Hermione. "No cursing."

Close third Havoc appeared and simply walked forward towards the statue like nothing happened. The plate lowered into the floor and became one with it. Hermione watched Havoc approach the obviously alive statue, her gut was sinking rapidly.

"Master. Welcome back to Crucible." the statue boomed and kneeled before Havoc. Ron's mouth fell open while Hermione looked in both wonder and apprehension. "Hello, Vigil. Meet my friends: Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger." Havoc gestured his friends way to come over there. Both of them warily walked over to Havoc under the expectant gaze of the stone knight.

"This is Vigil. A golem made to protect this vault," Havoc said. "Vigil, are there any bedrooms or such here?" Vigil first stared at his master for a moment before responding. "Oh yes, Master. There are many more rooms available, they are just closed since there was no use for them." As Vigil finished, behind him the long stone wall shifted and moved backwards until it seemed to reach it's end and left at least five dozen rooms at a first glance. Havoc feared that Ron's jaw would be permanently stuck in the hanging position. Hermione's face was that of surprise and sudden anxiety.

"I think it's too much for you for one day. Could you find them a room?" Havoc knew he didn't have to ask and simply demand, but he felt that Vigil didn't deserve such harsh treatment. Vigil nodded and one of his eyes left it's socket and levitated over to Ron and Hermione. "If you would, please, follow me."

Havoc waved as Ron and Hermione followed the floating eyeball to their quarters. _"Havoc, you safe?" _Rex asked through the bond. _"Yeah, I'm back at the Crucible. You were right, a group of Wizards almost got to us."_

_"Us?"_ Rex's tone was all but pleased at that point. _"Nevermind. You will tell me when I get back. We killed them all but I doubt they will give up easily. I've decided to evacuate the castle and bring everything and everyone over there." _Havoc sent a wave of comfort and pleasure Rex's way as he constantly picked up fear and anxiety coming from Rex. _"How nice of you." _Rex slightly slurred back. Havoc grinned and asked Vigil to find him the most extravagant and spacious bedroom with a pool. For him and Rex.

"You ain't running away from me." Havoc whispered.

* * *

><p>He spun, pivoted and twisted with his robe barely keeping up with him. Or was he moving so fast their eyes could barely keep up with him? Revant spinned amongst the hunters and sprayed the ground with blood with each spin, a glint of steel tightly held in his only hand. The robe billowed behind him when he turned and the hem was so heavy it kept up the momentum and knocked down any attacker coming from the side. The hunters despite their dwindling numbers still attacked when the opportunity presented itself as Revant either stopped spinning or slowed down. Most of the attacks were countered with deadly proficiency.<p>

Revant slowed and then stopped, bringing his arm up to guard from attack. As expected the predictable hunters lunged at him with their swords. There was five of them remaining out of a group of fifteen and in the first two seconds of the attack, two of them were decapitated promptly by one swing of Revant's arm. The other three continued their zealous assault and swung the down to try and hit the shoulders and head. The first two didn't reach their target as Revant stepped back while the third managed to hit Revant on the shoulder. Revant dropped to his knees to reduce the blow, and shoved the third attacker away with his shoulder.

It hurt, a lot. The sword didn't even get through the armor, but the magic inside it did and reaped havoc in his shoulder that felt like it was tearing itself apart. Thankfully Revant could use the healing expertise and knowledge that Carlyle has been amassing to reduce the effects until he could take care of them after the battle.

With angry retaliation, Revant slammed his right hand into the third man's stomach and sent magical blades through the abdomen and beyond. The hunter was split in two, the legs fell while the upper body flew a few metres before landing in a bloody heap on the ground. The two other attackers ignored the brutal death of their comrade and swung their swords with even more force and anger. By then they were utterly silent when one of them roared in blood-curdling rage. "I will rip you apart!"

Revant smirked inside his cowl and responded in a lunge at the two staggered hunters. The one who yelled was more than eager to meet Revant's lunge with his own. Revant's smirk grew into a grin and stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the tip of the sword that would have been lodged in his chest if he didn't move aside. The man passed him with his lunge and realized too late that he was duped. Revant slammed his fist into the side of the man's helmet and ran a spike of metal through it, killing him instantly.

Now there was only one man left standing of the hunting party. Revant banished the summoned spike and smelled the scent of fear waving off the man. That was the scent Revant was eager to smell once again, it sent tingles down his spine and made his pupils dilate into hungry saucers. His body moved on impulse to come closer to the source, to lick the very special form of frantic magic that powered every living being. Vitae as it was called by many healers and witch doctors across the ages and lands. This was the second time Revant could savor the taste, but somehow he always knew how it tasted and why he yearned for it. Too bad father is dead to explain it.

The man started turning to apparate away but Revant had other plans for the man and summoned a spray of metal shards that lodged themselves in the back of the man when he turned. With a cry he fell onto his stomach and tried to crawl away in an agonizing pace. Revant slowly walked with a pose reminiscent of a hungry wolf and straddled the man's back. He tore away the man's mask and hood to grab hold of the black hair beneath. The waist he was sitting on was far more thin than he expected. He brought the head up to see his prey's face.

It was that of a woman, and of remarkable beauty. Strange how a woman such as this could handle the profession such as hunting Pristi, she lacked muscle mass to overpower one even remotely, but her small form must give her an advantage over a male combatant. However it is not an advantage when against a Pristi.

"Well, well. A woman. And of such beauty, aswell. Why does such a fair lady dabble in swords and hunting of endangered species?" Revant purred next to the woman's ear. The woman cringed and started to signal even more fear. Her jaw stiffened as she tried hard not to gasp. This only indulged Revant to grin even wider. "A silent one, too. How quaint. I hope you wouldn't mind me asking who sent you?"

She didn't respond. Revant didn't expect her to say anything, either. Attempting to coax any information out of her through words would be a waste of time. He had to resort to a tactic he didn't like, the blood connection. With his teeth he pulled off the glove and bit into his hand to draw blood. Not wanting the woman to struggle too much he slammed his palm on her forehead quickly.

Revant's mind entered her own. His strands slithered through the empty space and searched for the memory nodes he wanted. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for and took it. He returned to his position on the woman's back and promptly twisted her neck with his one hand. She died with only a faint gasp leaving her lips. "What a shame."

With that done, Revant stood up and returned Carlyle the control of the body. Carlyle stared blankly at the noon sun and ignored the bodies that are likely to be strewn about the front garden of the manor. How ironic for his place of both solitude and safety was turned into a battleground. With a sigh, Carlyle sat down an thought what to do next with the information Revant has acquired.

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><p>The exodus of Hogwarts castle was done in a matter of hours. Rex was the last one to go to the Crucible, making sure they weren't followed. He entered into a sight of hustle ands bustle that usually accompanied the moving of furniture and the such. Minions carrying crates and boxes ran around in every direction imaginable. On hte first glance it looked like it was chaotic at best, but was actually organized. Yes, some bumped into each other and sent things flying, but often they reached their destination without problems. Rex then noticed a trail of blood leading to the side. He followed it with his gaze until it settled onto a group of three, with Draco in his white blood-stained armor in the middle.<p>

Lucius and Havoc were fretting over Draco while he was bent forward in clear pain. He was holding his right hand over his side and Havoc was pressing his hands over it. Rex could see that Draco was more in pain because his pride was severely damaged by being hit when he was distracted than the wound itself, although it must be painful. Rex walked over to them.

Havoc was wearing what seemed to be a bath robe. His hair was matted to his neck and face and he didn't notice Rex approach, he was too focused in stopping magic from degenerating Draco's entire side and knit it back together. Rex didn't dare to interrupt his work and decided to see how Lucius was holding up.

"What a fool I am." Lucius muttered when Rex stopped beside him, they both looked at the two teens. "How so?" Rex asked, he saw no reason for the man to call himself a fool. Lucius sighed, "I should be the one protecting my son, not the other way around. He is hurt now because he wanted to protect me even though he knows I can protect myself." he tapped his cane which housed his wand nervously.

"Your son did well. Those weren't wizards you are used to fighting, far from it. They used enchanted swords that, if you have been struck even once, would kill you instantly. I have no doubt they could easily reach you if Draco wasn't there to stop them." Rex said. Lucius' face scrunched in both regret and anger. He would have retaliated at Rex's words but saw reason in them and decided against it. "I guess you are right. But seeing your son hurt and not being able to help him is..." Lucius didn't continue. Rex only nodded, he knew the feeling quite well.

While the two watched Havoc drained the malignant magic out of Draco's wound. It felt corrupted, restrained and sickening. The magic was so twisted it made Havoc nauseous and slightly gag. After a whole horrible minute he drained all of it and then went to knit it back together. Havoc was glad to hear Draco's breathing ease up and became deep. The wound was swiftly closed and only left blood-smeared and irritated flesh behind.

"There, all done. Draco groaned and muttered a 'thank you' before Lucius helped him up and were led by one of Vigil's eyes to their bedrooms. Havoc sighed and shivered slightly. Rex felt the need for warmth come from the teen, and he, reluctantly, stepped beside him and put a assuring hand on Havoc's shoulder. This was the first time they had contact after they shared that dream, and Rex felt rather uncomfortable. "You okay?" Havoc asked even though Rex should be the one asking.

"You look far worse than me, "Rex pointed out Havoc's face was looking worse for wear. "Something happen in the hospital?" Havoc shook his head with his brows furrowed in thought. "It all went fine. It's the magic that was hurting Draco that makes me worried. It felt so wrong, sick and twisted. It was unnatural." Rex felt it, too when the blade scraped his leg and chest. He knew little of this world's history but was much acquainted with the possibility of magic becoming corrupted if kept far from it's original source or made do what it is not supposed to do.

Havoc then took Rex's hand and pulled towards their bedroom. Rex followed, "We are we going?" Havoc looked at him with a mischievous expression before continuing. "Our bedroom." Rex groaned but didn't resist, that encouraged Havoc even more. They reached a lavish double door. They opened on their own and led into a huge chamber with a huge bed in the middle that was slightly sunken into the ground while in the far back was a huge drape behind which came the sound of a waterfall. The circular walls were covered with paintings of what looked like distant lands with castles on mountains and woods with silhouettes of lithe forms amongst the trees, or drapes of royal purple and red. Also there were columns that looked like they were moulded by water rising to the ceiling in intervals in the walls.

The bed in the middle had sheets of both velvet and cotton, with a rich selection of colourful pillows pilled on it. Havoc let go of Rex's hand and let himself fall into the bed. Pillows flew when he fell and Havoc let out a giggle of genuine delight. Rex chuckled, his eyes spotting the naked legs Havoc's bathrobe failed to hide. He turned his gaze away, his face heating up; good thing he has a helmet to hide it but doubted that would hide his feeling of embarrassment from Havoc for long. "Take off your armor." Havoc demanded with a soft tone. The room filled with tension, but not the bad kind of tension.

Rex felt awkward as he started to unlatch his pauldrons and chestplate slowly. He felt a ball grow in his throat. He put down the chestplate and the pauldrons down and began removing his bracers and gauntlets. He was stripping for a minute or so when all he was left wearing were his boots, the black tight shirt and pants and his helmet. Rex didn't want to take off his helmet, he was too scared of what he or Havoc might do.

"Your helmet isn't armor?" Havoc cocked an eyebrow at Rex. "The helmet stays." Rex said, he felt safe with it on. Nobody could see his face, nobody could read his expressions and emotions he knew were flashing across his face. It was his identity, the overlord's helmet. Only Rose called him Rex, and even that name wasn't his true name he had as the hero who sought to slay the evil Overlord with his band of friends. Then he realized how childish and scared he was, hiding behind a mask like some coward.

Rex lifted his helmet and ceremoniously placed it on the chestplate on the floor. Havoc's eyes darted to every point on Rex's face, not caring if he would be seen staring or not. Rex returned the gaze and they locked. Emerald and ruby and both held the same need to be closer, together. Havoc was the first one to get up and started to walk towards Rex. Rex stood still until he stopped denying his body and met Havoc halfway. He stood two heads taller than Havoc, his hands eager to touch Havoc's pale skin, to kiss his slightly red lips.

Havoc put his hands on Rex's chest and stood up on his toes, his mouth half open and wanting and eyelids half closed. Rex restrained himself from slamming his lips against Havoc's like a horny animal so he gently dipped his head and hovered an inch above Havoc's face. The boy was willing, wanting and seemed to know what he wanted. Havoc's mind may have been controlled by raging emotions, but he wanted this. Rex tried to find any traces of reluctance on Havoc's face to see if the boy didn't want their bond, and relationship, to go on. He found none and his own mind didn't fight against the notion of spending his life with the boy as his lover.

With his mind set, Rex held Havoc's head gently and bent down slightly into a kiss. Havoc closed his eyes and leaned into it before his knees buckled. Rex bent even more to scoop up Havoc, all the while looking at the soft, no longer frowning features. He sat down and enveloped Havoc into a warm hug with the teen in his lap while not breaking the kiss. Now in the real world their magic connected and in their kiss they exchanged more than just saliva, they traded magic aswell. Rex's tongue wandered around Havoc's mouth and was surprised to find it the same as it was in the dream to every detail.

Their biological need for air broke their kiss. Rex slightly bit Havoc's lower lip on the way out and magic poked two small dots on his lip. Havoc gasped for air and from the tickling sensation from Rex's bite. He looked at Rex mischievously and went to lick at Rex's neck before biting it and leaving his own magical mark on his lover's flesh. Rex grunted instead of gasped, he was too manly for that but enjoyed it nonetheless. He looked into Havoc's eyes and, without being aware of it, said: "I love you."

Havoc's breathing stopped and he looked at Rex with wide and huge green eyes. They betrayed nothing else but surprise. Rex felt nothing coming from the bond and he started to panic. Why wasn't Havoc responding? "Havoc...Havoc! Havoc!" Rex cried and shook Havoc in fear, in fear of losing him when he just got someone he could trust and love. What was the blasted Tower Heart doing now!? Can't it see he is happy?

"Help! I need help!" Rex bellowed as he stormed out of the room with Havoc in his arms who wasn't breathing and didn't respond. The minions turned to look at the new addition to the moving chaos and were quick to heed their master's calls. Ron and Hermione peeked through the door of their bedroom but had a poor view of the situation. neither of them dared go out without Havoc's permission or presence so they stayed put, hoping for the shouting man to move into a better view.

"He isn't breathing! He isn't breathing!"

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><p>It was a warm room, it's old polished wood floor gave the room a homely quality and the fireplace with its slowly burning-out embers in the fireplace flanked by huge bookcases completed the study, or more like a library. High above were floors upon floors of balconies and more bookcases that were home to many epics, collections and novels. Carlyle's most trusted friend was wealthy, indeed. Carlyle was sitting in one of the armchairs facing a small coffee table and the fireplace, his hood drawn back and a wine glass with blood-red wine swishing in it.<p>

"Thank you for waiting, my good friend." Russell Thorn of the Alvin Dynasty was a man of both exquisite tastes and looks. His face wasn't marred by age despite him being four centuries old and his blonde hair remained a coppery hue that Carlyle recognized from very old portraits. A carefully groomed beard and moustache gave him a older and serious look. He was wearing a lavish robe used to wear when the person didn't care to put on more proper clothing. Carlyle didn't mind, he did wake the man up in the middle of the night.

Russell sat in the armchair opposite of Carlyle, in his hand a glass of water. The happiness on his face for seeing a friend visit disappeared immediately the moment he saw how armored Carlyle was, and the distinct lack of a left hand. "My god, Carlyle! What has happened to you?"

"Haven't you read the Daily Oracle?" Carlyle asked, his gaze focused on the patterns the wine made in his glass. "I'm sorry to say that I haven't." Russell answered and put his glass down onto the table. "I was discovered while working at St. Mungo's. Had to get out of London. Somehow they found me and here I am." Carlyle left out that he met Zoran and Kristina, Russell didn't have to know about them, for now. "Oh my. First your mother, than your father and now this? And with that rising Overlord rumours going about, I dare say we are in quite a pickle." The use of euphemism on Russell's part was understating it, but the man was well-mannered and frowned upon cursing if it was not completely required.

"They took your arm, too?" Russell grumbled, his glass of water forgotten on the table. "There is little I can do for you, Carlyle except offer a safe haven." Carlyle gulped the rest of the wine in his glass and was relieved when his stump of an arm went slightly numb. "I have no need of a safe haven right now, thank you. The reason I am here is because you and your family are in danger."

The already serious face Russell had now turned dark, his warm brown eyes went cold. "In danger?" he repeated. Carlyle nodded, "Yes. I managed to extract delicate information out of one of my pursuers who happened to be a bit too curious in her own ranks and eavesdropped a meeting she shouldn't have even been aware of. The main topic was the attack on Hogwarts while the less pressing matters were your family. Somehow they know you are a Pristi and will not take long to take action against you." Russell was silent as he clearly pondered about what Carlyle said. Russell was a great strategist in his day when the Pristi Empire was at an end. He would dig out a victory out of nothing and the Alvin family was eternally loyal to the Immortal rulers.

"How long?" Russell broke the silence. Carlyle regretted he had to shrug, the woman didn't manage to overhear a time or date. Russell somberly nodded, "You have done more than others could, Carlyle. Thank you. I will go wake Maria up and the kids." The man started towards the door and stopped in front of it. "You sure you don't need anything?"

Carlyle stood up and shook his head. "No, thank you. Well, maybe any painkillers or such?" Thorn slightly smiled and nodded.

"Coming right up."

Carlyle returned a smile and slumped into the armchair. He stared into the embers and, against his own will, fell asleep.

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><p><strong>Okay then, hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I like writing it. Now onto Chapter 14.<strong>


	15. Breaking and Mending

**Chapter 14, my dear Reviewers, Followers, Favorites and Alertists!**

**I have been thinking about it all, about where the story is heading. And I came to a conclusion that it would be best if it was**** 25 chapters long. And continue it on the second book. I just feel too much is going to happen in the upcoming chapters and a second book sounds good.**

**Please tell me what you think, every thought is appreciated!**

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><p>Chapter 14<p>

Breaking and Mending

The vast white expanse was oppressing as much it was terrifying. It seemed to have no end and Voldemort had no doubts of it being a possibility. He wondered how has he come about to be in such a peculiar place and recalled his soul being dragged along with blasted Potter when he, as much as Voldemort could conclude, fainted. The kissing part, he was not warned about, made him close every sense possible to evade the sickening kissing. The spot on which he appeared at had nothing distinguishable to determine if this place was something special in the dimension or like any other.

One plus to this situation is because he had his old body back. The handsome visage of Tom Riddle. With slick hair and a dominating yet encouraging face. Although this was likely a temporary thing while he spent a disturbingly undetermined amount of time in this empty space.

"Havoc sure is full of surprises." Voldemort spun and instinctively reached for his wand that he found that it was missing. He would have cursed were he alone, but he was not and he was standing in front of what looked like an opposite of that man Rex and his armor.

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><p>"I can do nothing, Sire. But what I can say is that Sire Havoc is not in danger. His body is being sustained by magic only, why I can only guess." Doctor Julius, the brown minion doctor was annoyed that he could only report so much to his other Sire. He would have done more if it was possible but it was out of his hands, or claws. Rex gave a nod that was barely noticeable and dismissed the minion. The doctor bowed and walked backwards out of the room closing the doors of Rex's and Havoc's bedroom.<p>

Rex looked at the door for a few seconds before returning back to Havoc's side peacefully sleeping in a coma in their huge circular bed. Rex wanted for those huge emerald eyes to open, to look at him with that want, passion and love. He took Havoc's hand into his own, bridging the gap their bond usually had to traverse and now it opened completely like the last time. Rex could feel what was going on in Havoc and wondered what the Tower Heart was doing with such an influx of magic he could feel swirling in Havoc. With a deeper prod into the magic he felt it to have the primary function of change, but what did it change?

The bond soothed Rex's frayed nerves and gave him much needed peace. His shoulders relaxed and Rex kneeled beside his lover, hoping and begging for Havoc to come back okay. The Tower Heart was changing him, it was changing Rex's beautiful Havoc and if it hurt Havoc in any way, he would not hesitate to destroy it.

A knock came from the doors and made Rex break the contact because he couldn't focus while in sync with Havoc. "Yes." Rex grumbled, annoyed. The doors opened ever so slightly and Rip waddled in through a gap. Rex hadn't seen the minion master when he led the treasure trove of information from Hogwarts with the Tower Heart to far off rooms Rex hadn't inspected yet. Rip's face was neutral like always but small details told Rex he, too, was worried.

"My apologies to disturb you, Sire. I have heard just now that Sire Havoc has collapsed. The Tower Heart reacted strangely to it." Rip moved to stand closer. "Yes," Rex was brief. "It is changing him, into what I do not know." Rex was worried what is going to happen to Havoc and again sought the bliss and ignorance the bond gave him when he opened fully to it. "The Tower Heart? Hmmm." Rip hummed thoughtfully, thinking of the many reasons why the Tower Heart would do something like this. Master Arthur, it's engineer, never said anything about this and it never happened in his tenure of service.

"Anything more?" Rex asked with steel in his voice. It wasn't intended but the boiling anger in Rex was starting to seep out. Rip shook his head, his ears flapping around and quickly left his Sires alone.

"What are you doing, Arthur?" Rip mumbled to himself as he went off to oversee the moving. It will be revealed in time, he hoped. His old Sire may have been noble and honorable, but he still was a Pristi and an Overlord. Many didn't plan too much ahead, however Rip couldn't find the thought of Arthur having a longterm plan impossible.

It was a nice surprise for Rip when he saw the newcomers, Zoran and Kristina, helping the minions in their moving efforts. They were both sweaty and dirty from carrying ancient dusty boxes full of crumbling scrolls and extravagant items stockpiled by various Overlords over the ages. Zoran let a minion take his box when he looked like he would collapse. Kristina was already sitting and drinking water out of a flask greedily. Zoran walked over and slumped beside his sister, pulling out a flask of his own out of a crate behind him.

Kristina felt like they were watched and spotted Rip looking at them. She was on her feet in an instant. Rip's threat was still fresh in her mind and she didn't want to provoke the minion into trying to go through with the threat. Rip walked over to them but still kept a scowl on his face,

"We just thought we could help a bit, with you guys saving us from those attackers." Kristina blurted out and Zoran looked at her with a confused face until he spotted Rip and stood up even faster than his sister. Rip glared at them for a long moment before continuing his inspection. Perhaps Vigil could keep an eye on them.

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><p>The tall windows let in little light due to them being covered by long and thick drapes. Down the corridor with the wooden floor went Carlyle who looked like a monk in his armor while Russell walked beside him in his own armor painted dark red. Both of them looked like a monk was talking with a knight with eccentric tastes in armor design. Russell's armor was inspired by the muggle Templar knights with a few customizations.<p>

Russell limped thanks to an age old wound he got when the Pristi Empire fought it's last battle. It was him who lead their remaining forces into a last-ditch effort to fight back the armies of the wizards and their allies. A burden he will have to bear for the rest of his life, he failed the empire and his family.

Carlyle looked at his friend in concern when Russell stopped, his brown eyes glowing out of the helmet were glazed over in thought. Moments later Russell got back to the real world and apologized before continuing on. "Sorry, I went somewhere else. As I was saying, we are moving to Egypt. There is our other estate there." Carlyle nodded, he saw the patches of clean wall and floor where paintings and statues had once been and had to commend the house elves for their effective and quick effort.

Suddenly the two men were joined by a third, armored and thin, resident of the manor. It was Maria in her own armor of slick design and a helmet that narrowed into a spike pointing down with two slits that let her purple eyes show. "The kids are already there," Maria continued on her husbands sentence, "Thank you, Carlyle for warning us." Carlyle nodded absently. "You will always be welcome, you know that." Russell said. Carlyle smiled at that. "Thank you, hopefully I will not have so many pressing matters to attend to and visit you sometime."

The trio reached the door, and Russell and his wife turned to look at the house, for the last time maybe. They spent a century living here, their entire lide was imprinted in every board of this mansion and both of them felt a pang of hurt. "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to it." Carlyle said and the couple turned to stare at him in surprise. He couldn't see their expressions but their eyes said everything. "You can't!" Maria almost cried, "You will get killed."

Maria looked at her husband for support and got none. "Sorry, honey. His mind is pretty much made up, I know that look or I haven't spent half a century with this guy as my friend." Maria kept staring at Russell but sighed, seeing that trying to convince Carlyle to not stay would be a waste of time which they could not afford to lose. Russell clasped Carlyle's forearm in a warrior's shake. "You sure you want to stay? I know you have that look when there is something you want to know, but I never considered you the guy to go physical."

"People change, unlike you old fossils." Carlyle retorted and chuckled. Russell could take a joke even though he was old as hell. He broke the shake and opened the door to let the couple out, perhaps forever leaving this house. Carlyle found it a rather depressing thought and suddenly wished his friends would leave, envy and anger sprung up in him. They had a family and home to come back to. He did not.

Carlyle hoped he would bring back his parents, no matter how childish it may be. It actually wasn't a matter of would, but when. After all, he has an millenia to do it.

Russell and Maria were already gone when Carlyle wrenched himself out of his musings and said, "Come, brother. We have work to do."

. . . . .

The Alvin mansion was dark. Outside it the last vestiges of snow fell and covered the surrounding flats of Scottish green. Imprints appeared all around as ghosts treaded their way towards the mansion under the full moon. Their masks reflected it's soft glow when they removed their cloaks and sprang into a loping run through the barriers. The silence hung and was not disturbed by the very warm and very alive beings that are storming the large mansion.

Cobalt eyes softly glew in the darkness, they patiently waited and noted every change and the faint shadows coming from the draped windows. They were good at sneaking for wizards, Revant had to give them that. But their sneaking was needless now that he knew they would attack. He considered how many of them are out there and came to a conclusion that there would be more than those fifteen that hunted him when he was only one and these expected two grown and two young Pristi.

Revant could feel Carlyle slightly squirm, this Carlyle didn't think on. Revant soothed his brother, he had an advantage with the knowledge of the layout of the mansion and superior abilities. He just had to keep himself hard to notice and pick them off one by one. A door creaked behind him that led to a hallway going right beside the study.

Revant closed his eyes and used his sense to feel the distinct ball of magic wandered around the study. The robe's black scales made him nigh impossible to spot when motionless and the assassin hadn't noticed him. He turned his back to Revant and the latter used it to his advantage. Revant stood up and snuck over to the man who was trying to find something, probably a child wandering around the manor in clandestine activities? You bastard, Revant thought. How ironic.

Irony has become rather frequent in both Carlyle's and his own life. Revant guessed it gave a distinct flavor to his existance and didn't bother to think about it, just feeling it. With little reluctance Revant summoned a sharp metal blade the length of a short sword and swept it across the assassin's neck from behind.

The head rolled with a faint clang from it's metal mask across the floor and stopped against the small coffee table Carlyle was sipping wine yesterday night. One down, forty-nine to go. Optimistic thinking coming from a killer. Revant ignored the oxymoron and made the body disintegrate that was usually used to make a Pristi join the Flow much easier. It was convenient enough to use in spying missions with it's lack of evidence left behind.

With the body disposed of, Revant slid out the open door and spotted three shadows sneaking down the hallway, their backs towards him. They wouldn't see him, they would only see a pair of blue orbs floating in darkness. Revant was surprised that they were so foolish as to not drink a potion or use a spell that provides vision in darkness. These so-called Pristi hunters are far more amateurish than he initially expected. Though they are dedicated.

Revant followed them and was mere meters away from the last one in the column of three. Revant deemed it necessary to kill all three of them at the same time to prevent any of them to make a commotion. He stepped sideways and rolled until he was beside the middle of the small line of assassins. The robe's scales slightly clacked on the wooden floor but made no other sound. With dexterity of a gymnast, Revant stood up and swung his short blade laterally.

Only the sound of blood spraying across the wall and gurgling could be heard as the three assassins found their throats slit with one swift motion. Revant left the three choking on their own blood and continued his hunt.

"This will be a long night."

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><p>It was horrible to watch. The buckle seemed to tear flesh and send it flying while in fact those were only globs of blood that stuck onto it. The man's face was contorted in such anger that he didn't look human, he looked like a blood-thirsty beast that couldn't sate it's hunger by just flaying it's victim, it had to hurt it emotionally, too.<p>

"Don't you ever speak my name, vermin!" Vernon kept bringing down the belt buckle onto already ravaged back of Harry Potter who was intently focused on the floor, not letting a single syllable leave his lips. The boy's silence seemed to make Vernon pick up the pace, he wanted the boy to scream his lungs out, to show that this 'magical' monster was beneath him.

Rex watched from a corner, horrified. The torture went on for what seemed to Rex an eternity. He touched his cheeks and found them to be moist from tears he hadn't noticed he was crying. This boy didn't deserve to endure this, to be hated for what he was. Rex wanted to intervene but he knew he couldn't change the past and this was but a dream, not his own.

He averted his eyes, he had enough. He closed his eyes and suddenly a jolt like somebody bit his neck woke him up.

He felt sparks of magic tickle his neck and through a blur that was his vision he could only see two green orbs facing him. Rex's mind reeled itself out of the sleeping state and tried to apply the two green eyes with a person. after a few moment he finally remembered the face and eyes: Havoc was splayed all over him with his chin propped on Rex's chest.

"Wake up, you were sleeping more than I did." Havoc remarked with a soft voice, not meaning to tease. Rex believed Havoc when the teen slept to ten into the morning. Then he realized he was feeling tight in his pants where Havoc thankfully wasn't touching, the teen's legs and arms were splayed over his sides.

"You've had me worried." Rex threw his silent exterior out the window, he didn't need to conceal his feelings to Havoc anymore when they finally knew where they stood. Or maybe Rex finally knew. It was both refreshing and relaxing in not having to hold a rigid and expressionless facade, he wasn't used to it and had been making him bitter.

"Sorry." Havoc frowned for having scared Rex and making him worried. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Rex's lips and smiled. Rex couldn't do anything against the expression his face made, it was a mix of confusion and mild surprise. He wasn't used to sudden expressions of love, Rose wasn't of such character. But she knew when he needed her touch.

Havoc rolled off Rex and fell onto the bed beside him. Rex grunted as the weight was gone of his chest. "It hurts a little," Havoc spoke as he stared into the intricate carvings of a strange landscape carved into the ceiling. Rex shifted to his side and looked at Havoc, his hand on it's own accord wandered over to Havoc's head and buried it's fingers in the hair. Havoc seemed to relax at the contact. "Something inside me. Can't tell what, though." Rex's other first clenched in anger, the Tower Heart was causing Havoc pain, and he won't let Havoc suffer anymore, he had suffered enough.

Havoc senses Rex's rising anger through the bond and shifted to his side and faced Rex. He didn't say anything but held Rex's head and scooted over to get closer, and engaged a long kiss that melted Rex and made his mind go blank with bliss and instantly forgot why he was so angry. It looked so petty now that he looked at it. Havoc had that effect on him, to soothe his impulses and anger, to rein him in when it was needed. Rose did that, too, in her on way, of course.

They broke the kiss and simply stared at each other. "I've brought two of my former friends from the hospital. I mean to turn them." Rex nodded, he would respect every Havoc's decision until he found them to be harmful to both him and Havoc. A pragmatic view that Rex had developed over the years of ruling. "Ah, that warning I didn't get the last time." Rex playfully scolded and enjoyed the pout he got in return. "Anyhow, I think you should first finally talk to those two kids about the tournament they mentioned."

Havoc thought about it then remembered, "Oh yeah. We should first do that, yes." Havoc took in a deep breath and his face scrunched up in slight disgust. He sniffed and his nose reached Rex where Havoc's face gave a look of both amusement and disgust. "You need to shower, you smell of blood and sweat."

Rex arched a delicate eyebrow and then smelled himself now, the smell was wretched. The metal tingling scent didn't go with the stuffy and strong smell of sweat, at all. Havoc smiled in ever rising amusement and watched Rex clamber up the two steps and disappeared behind the curtains where a pool was situated. Havoc would have joined Rex if he had the time, he had wasted enough of it in the hospital.

He put on a silk shirt and pants that fitted him well, as if the previous male Potter who slept here was the same size as he. When he left the room, Draco was the first one to notice him and was by his side almost immediately. Draco didn't show he cared about Havoc, but he did, immensely so, and Havoc was grateful for that. He doubted such loyalty will be frequent in the days to come.

Draco had the Daily Oracle in his hands and Havoc was about to burn it to a crisp when Draco started citing a entry in it. "'Harry Potter gone missing! After the swift destruction of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Harry Potter seems to have vanished out of St. Mungo's hospital. Chief Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt claims the room where Potter resided was heavily warded against anyone trying to go inside, or trying to get young Potter out. Many speculate the Death Eaters may have a hand in the disappearance while others claim Harry Potter was indeed dead, but his spirit came to save them from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Which is true, we cannot say.'" Draco finished the lengthy entry. Havoc snorted, how pompous and self-deserving those wizards were. He would rather burn in hell than save those ingrates.

"You sure hit the headlines, again. When will you get off the stage?" Draco teased as they walked. Havoc spotted Draco's father, Lucius, sitting at the table they brought from Hogwarts, his face bore a bored expression. "Lucius!" Havoc called and got the older man's attention.

Lucius' eyebrow went into his hairline. "Yes?" Havoc stopped beside the man, "I need you to do something."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?" Lucius asked with thinly veiled indignation like a petulant child. He must be still pissed at Havoc for deceiving Draco. Havoc was about to retort on the tone when Draco said, "Some common courtesy, father? You owe him at least that." Lucius looked at his son in shock and then gave him that we-will-talk-later look which Havoc remembered as I-will-beat-you-to-an-inch-of-your-life look that Vernon frequently sent him when he lived under his roof. Strangely Havoc couldn't remember tonights dream, he usually had nightmares every night but today is different.

Draco knew he would have a hiding from his father when they will be alone, but chastising his father was too good to pass up. Lucius then focused on Havoc. "Apologies." the man's throat must've constricted because the apology sounded strangled somewhere halfway through his throat. Havoc accepted it, not in the mood to argue. "You got Death Eaters in the Ministry, correct?"

Lucius nodded, his eyes had that confused look as to what Havoc was aiming at. "I want you to tell them to continue what they are doing, just that they did it for us, not Voldemort." Havoc felt Voldemort's soul stir at the mention of his name. Lucius was momentarily surprised how easily Voldemort rolled of Havoc's tongue. The boy truly was powerful, he confirmed. Havoc manipulated Voldemort with such ease it looked like child's play. It was disturbing to see this being act as a normal teenager and fight with such brutality like he was trained to kill since he was born.

"Umm, I will give you a few minions to fix up Malfoy Manor, we left it in a mess. Better that you operate from there, it would be easier." Havoc added. Lucius was once again surprised, Havoc had the makings of an expert tactician if he didn't let it stagnate. He also wondered what world did Havoc envision, it will be rather interesting to see it happen, with Draco helping making it happen. Lucius felt a rising sense of pride for Draco, and Havoc.

"Then I will go now." Havoc nodded in agreement and summoned a small platoon of brown minions and ordered them to listen to every Lucius' order. He then looked at Draco expectantly. "Nothing is really keeping you here. I am safe here and Lucius could use some help."

Draco raised an eyebrow and looked at his father who was already picking his things up he needed for the manor. "I could use some help, Draco." Lucius said. Havoc smiled when Draco turned to stare at Havoc. "You sure?"

Havoc nodded. A trace of disappointment flashed across Draco's face and the emotionless mask was back in place. Havoc felt a pang of guilt and pushed it away. He had no time for that. He looked at Draco and Lucius' backs as they disappeared back to their home. He also sent Draco's trunk with the armor and weapons to the manor, Havoc didn't want Draco helpless and found only having a wand with him a bit feeble a defense.

One of Vigil's eyes floated over to him, "I am glad you are awake, SIre." Havoc gave him a smile, "Yeah, got a bit tired, 'is all." Vigil scrutinized Havoc, looking for signs if anything was wrong and seemed to settle on Havoc's belly. The magical blue iris narrowed as it focused on something it could see. Havoc felt strange under the focused gaze.

"You are experiencing abdominal pains." Vigil said suddenly. "The Heart has put something in motion I haven't yet seen." Vigil went silent, saying nothing else and was still staring at Havoc's belly. "Umm, yeah. It hurts a bit. But I have a feeling it isn't something dangerous. I just have this feeling." Havoc said. The eye looked his Sire in the eye, "I concur." The strange conversation was over, Havoc was thankful for that. "The two Brand seek your audience, Sire." Vigil informed.

Havoc nodded and followed the eye to a bedroom not much different from his and Rex's while it lacked a pool and the sinking bed. Kristina and Zoran were lounging in the sofas on one side and were on their feet when they saw Havoc enter. Vigil's eye remained where it was, by Havoc's side, the blue iris locked onto Kristina and Zoran.

Both of them bowed with a mechanical quality that said they'd done it all their lives. They wore the clothes when they first met and were bedraggled. "Sire Havoc," Kristina spoke, "We have been awaiting your return. I assume you are here to hear our proposal."

Havoc hated the formalities that nobility entitled, he was more of an on-hands kind of person. But he could play this game easily enough. "I am." Kristina nodded and marshaled her thoughts as to how it would be best to present her plan. "_Ritus Regulae_. The Rite of Rule is a tournament where the major and the most powerful Pristi families compete in a series of challenges to determine who is to rule for the next ten years. The tradition was neglected ever since the Empire fell and the Immortal line is considered extinguished." Kristina's eyes turned hard. "You are the remaining member of the Immortal line. The Immortals have always won the Rite when Arthur's line was wiped out. What I am asking of you is to participate in the Rite and win. If we do not get a steady leadership the Pristi will cease to exist as the wizards slowly hunt us down one by one."

Kristina stopped and waited to hear what Havoc thought. Havoc knew little of the Pristi culture and traditions, but felt like he would like to know his birthright, it was actually the only thing he can cling onto as part of his new identity. He did have plans in turning half the populace into Pristi in the first place and this went hand in hand with it. Of course he will take part, although it brought many memories from the Triwizard Tournament he rather not remember. "Where will it take place?"

Kristina smiled, the question was enough to know Havoc was interested, only a fool would not take his chance at ruling a nation of such powerful beings. "In the Alps, like it always has been. Although we have to declare it first and provide reason. I hope you will accompany me and my brother to the _Concil_." Havoc eyed her, he didn't like going somewhere they knew and he didn't. He will need to make necessary precautions. "I will, if your brother stays here. Do not consider me a fool."

"Of course." Kristina said and got a baleful stare at her back from Zoran. "And I have no say in the matter?" Kristina turned towards him, "It is a small price to pay. After all, they won't kill you, if everything goes as planned. We can only hope father won't be stubborn." Havoc was both surprised and shocked at how cold Kristina could act even when her brother's life was at stake, or it she could be acting. Either way, he had insurance things will go smothly, if it didn't work out. He will plan on it there.

"We will go tomorrow." Havoc said and left the room, Vigil's eye close behind him. Rex was towelling his hair and sitting on a far more comfortable throne that was installed yesterday along with another one for Havoc. Rex dried his hair with one hand and was reading the Daily Oracle Draco left on the table. Havoc wondered how did the man find anything interesting in that waste of ink and paper.

Ron and Hermione must be confused and scared out of their minds by now. Havoc once again followed Vigil to yet another bedroom, Havoc wondered how many were there, but that was beside the point. He slowly opened the door and walked in. Hermione was laying in the bed with a very old tome in her hands while Ron looked like he was bored out of his mind. Both of them perked up on the sound of their door being opened. Ron gave a sigh of relief when he saw it was only Havoc.

"You almost scared me to death." Ron said and stood up from his sofa. Havoc walked over to them. Hermione had an accusing look that meant she knew Havoc did something wrong. It was only a matter of which she knew. "I need to ask you something," Havoc put steel in his voice to make sure they knew this is serious. "You are free to go back home. Your families will not be harmed and will be left alone. Or you can join me. Vigil, please get the parchment I keep in my trunk, please." The eye floated out of the room. "What do you mean not harm our families, Havoc?" Hermione used Havoc's true name. "I mean to take revenge on the Wizarding world, for the crimes against me and my species. That you must know already. I don't wish to hurt you or your families, they did nothing to me. Others, however, won't be so lucky."

Ron was slightly taken aback, the shift between the Harry they knew into Havoc iss still new to both him and Hermione. They could still see Harry in his body language and character. The years of torture were the things that made Havoc who he was now. He was now only managing to express himself more freely, and Hermione was happy for him. She didn't know about Ron, though.

Vigil finally arrived with a scroll levitating in front of it and it deposited in Havoc's open palm. Havoc rolled it open and splayed it on a nearby table. Hermione and Ron edged forward to look at the scroll. Havoc moved so they could see. Ron knew he wouldn't understand what the scroll meant, but Hermione seemed to be understanding it. "This is...core manipulation?" it sounded foreign to her, she never stumbled upon any literature in Hogwart's library, even in the restricted section.

"Pristi don't have a magical core, instead we conduct magic and manipulate it more easily without the need of a wand. I have noticed, though, that my wand makes magic more direct." Hermione's thirst for knowledge was peaked by Havoc's explanation, she also noted his usage of we.

Hermione realized why Havoc brought the scroll. By joining, he meant making them Pristi. It was something you didn't know what to think about it. She had never heard of the Pristi and has no knowledge of them, but Havoc looked normal and seemed to have only become very proficient in magic. "But this spell is extremely dangerous. Destroying a core could kill me and Ron." she now sounded worried.

"I've already done it once. It was successful." if you can consider successful in almost killing Draco after the ritual. But now he knew what he had to do and they would have a more easier transition. "If you want." Havoc offered his hand.

"I don't think I can do it, Havoc." Ron said, looking at the proffered hand. "I want to help you, I really do, but it isn't-"

"Right? What is right, Ron? Is it right to exterminate an entire race because you were scared? Because you wanted power that you couldn't reach?" Havoc interrupted and barraged Ron with questions. Ron glanced at Hermione for support, Hermione was listening intently. "We obviously know too little about the affairs of the Pristi and the Wizarding world to have your point of view, Havoc." Havoc shrugged, "It is easily fixed. Me and Rex know enough. Dumbledore's motives tell me plenty of what wizards think of me and my kind. Just ask one of the pureblood who is deep enough." Havoc sighed and sat down. "I will try to take over England without war, but war is unavoidable. The wizards hunt us even as we speak. Besides, I am offering you a far longer future for both you and your families. The wizardkind will go extinct, not because of war and disease, but because their cores will run out. I only want you and anyone who is willing to avoid that fate,"

Hermione was relieved to see Havoc truly hasn't changed, it was his true side that was now showing, it wasn't restrained anymore. How it came to that, she wondered. Ron was obviously having a hard time seeing a different side to his former best friend. Hermione worried that she is far more dedicated to Havoc than Ron was. Ron was tittering on the edge, he needed only a nudge, they could lose him. Now this isn't the time for Ron to be so stubborn. "Ron, you saw what his uncle did to him. How we all neglected him. We owe him our support." Hermione said. "Support? To help him kill people? How is that support?"

"War is inevitable, Ron." Havoc began, "Either way people will die sooner or later. I won't lie to you and say that things would be settled without bloodshed. Dumbledore and the others were preparing me to kill Voldemort. To kill, Ron. I was never meant to scold him and say he shouldn't try to exterminate muggles and muggleborns." Voldemort silently chuckled at that.

"We live in a world that is ruthless, cruel. I have felt it on my own skin. I will kill anyone who dares kill me or my kind. everyone else will be left alone. Ron, you can go back to your family, I won't touch you, your friendship is worth a lot to me." Ron scoffed, "Yeah, right. If it was worth as much as you say it does, you would listen to me." Havoc frowned, this conversation was going nowhere and got annoyed and sad. "I do listen to you. What would you do if your family was attacked? What if Ginny was killed in front of your eyes? You would kill the person who did it, without a second thought."

Ron was now being visibly annoyed, his fists were clenched by his sides. Hermione looked on the brink of crying. Havoc knew this could be the end of their relationship. Hermione was bound by her own ideals to help him, she saw what he saw, but Ron didn't and that hurt the most. Ron was too stubborn. "Hermione, you can't be seriously believing him." Ron looked in surprise at his girlfriend. "Ron, you can't be thinking you can condone an extermination of a race, we are nothing better than them. Havoc speaks the truth, out cores will run out. Our families will die, whole of wizardkind will die. This is the best alternative." Hermione thought how they started a conversation that could well decide the fate of two races, it sent her mind spinning. The pain of losing Ron was making her heart strain and made her think.

"How can you know that?" Ron asked with a harsh tone, his temper was rising to a boiling point. "Are you daft? I've read so much that I have atleast a figment of knowledge. Ron, you, Havoc and me, we went through everything together, we beat Voldemort several times. We know Havoc better than anyone else and you can't see that he would try and do the right thing, every time he left us behind because he didn't want us to get hurt, or killed." Hermione sometimes felt like Ron really didn't know with who he was best friends with. Ron certainly didn't see anything in Havoc that was Harry. Ron looked at him like he stared at a monster. Havoc's face was impassive, but his green orbs housed pain that only someone close to him could notice.

"I can't demand of you to join me. I can't make you choose sides. You know what Rex and I know, I transferred it to you when we were in St. Mungo's. You know my parents were killed because of Dumbledore. I deserve my vengeance. I lost everything once, I lost everything twice. I will not lose my birthright because you are squeamish when it mattered." Havoc said with such force Ron flinched. Hermione gasped, "Havoc!" Havoc raised his hand, "No. Ron you abandoned me when I needed you the most. You were jealous of me just because I got to go and get beaten up in a fancy tournament. You did stick through, but when it truly mattered, you gave up and ran," He turned to Vigil's eye, "Please get Master Ron back to his home, Vigil."

Vigil looked at Ron, Ron didn't need much coercing to start walking. He stopped at the doorway, Hermione didn't follow him. "Hermione?"

Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears. She couldn't leave Havoc, they were the best of friends, the Golden Trio. They were inseparable and when there was one of them, the others were close too. "Ron, I can't leave. Can't you see he is doing this to bring a future to hi- Our kind?" Resignation and sorrow settled on Ron's face. "No. All I can see is an impostor who is mad with revenge. Hermione, do you really want to follow him?" Ron's lack of storming out of the room like he used to was different to Havoc, he never saw Ron in this light.

"We have families, Ron. Havoc has no one except me and that guy. You have brothers and a sister, mother and father. Havoc was raised to be a weapon by a manipulative old bastard and then to be discarded when used. You bet I will stay with him." Hermione wiped tears from her eyes, she was firm in her belief and Havoc was glad for her. Ron averted his gaze and disappeared around the corner. Both Havoc and Hermione felt like a piece of their souls was ripped out of them. Hermione slumped onto the bed and laid down. "Do it."

Havoc looked at her in confusion. "Do what?" "Cast the spell. Make me a Pristi." Hermione herself didn't know from where this resolve came from, this cold decision making, but she went with it, it made her numb. She heard rustle of old parchment and saw Havoc walk over to her. He sat beside her with the scroll in his lap. "I will have to put my hand on your chest, it is where the core is and I need to be as close to it as possible." Hermione nodded her approval and Havoc put his hand slightly above her breasts, Havoc noted they were a good size.

"Close your eyes and relax. Try to visualize your core seeping out magic, it could help." Havoc found those tips scrawled into the parchment. Hermione relaxed under Havoc's hand and they proceeded. Havoc buried his threads of magic down into her chest and felt the core as if he touched a hard surface. The core was blinding white, pulsing with restrained magic. The strands started to cut the core piece by piece. Small bursts of magic shook Havoc as it flooded through the strands and through him. It was like last time but with less resistance, Hermione gave herself to Havoc's ministrations, her breathing was shallow and began to pick up pace.

That was what made the procedure dangerous, a person in the hands of someone who wasn't observant enough would bleed out magic too quickly and die. Havoc concluded that most of the deaths were during the procedure while the core was halfway done. Havoc won't let Hermione die, he wouldn't.

The core bled and started to go dim in Havoc's mind's eye, it didn't have much magic left inside. He detached one of his strands and slid it into the large crevice he created. He restrained his body and magic from draining Hermione dry and started to pour magic into the core, like an IV bag to keep her alive until her core was gone and reshapen into a conduit. Hermione gasped when her body started to relax from the slight spasms of a body shutting down.

Havoc's upper lip perspired as his body was using a lot of energy to remodel something as a core that looked like it was set in stone. Figures when you go against nature's own design. The process went on for almost an hour when the core was deconstructed and Havoc was left with pieces of it, malleable like clay. Another half hour took him to shape the pieces into a blindingly white tube which pulsed when magic flowed through it. Hermione was sound asleep, much better than when Draco fell into a short-term coma for his troubles.

"Vigil, please send the doctor here, to keep an eye on her." Vigil returned after escorting Ron to the pool where the Tower Heart submerged and watched his SIre at work when Havoc spoke. WIth a slight shift meaning understanding, he floated away in search of the minion doctor. Havoc sighed, rubbed his forehead in exhaustion and wandered out of the room in search of Rex, wondering how did Rex cope during the spell.

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><p>Potter has gone missing. Did they succeed? It was a possibility, they were trained for something like that, after all. It has been a month since Potter returned and taken over Hogwarts. Dumbledore was silent to what was going on and the entire Order was ignorant except Snape who was privy to, but not all, information. Unlike most, Snape wasn't a fool to not see what is happening and what is to come. He could only hope that Potter was either dead or changed his mind about his vengeance, which was unlikely.<p>

He was about to pour himself a glass of whiskey and lounge in the sofa, the lack of work and annoyance from students this early made Snape agitated. For the school year to be cut so short felt unnatural, even though a much longer break was welcome. But how could he relax with nothing to do? He wasn't a type to lay around the house all day.

His pouring was disturbed by the recognizable pop of Apparition, someone has come to visit. It was probably Dumbledore, but the old man has refrained from visiting Snape in his home at Spinner's End long ago. It must be someone else, then.

With a wand in his pocket and easy reach, Snape opened his door. He didn't expect to see Lucius with Draco by his side to come by. Draco was missing as far as Lucius dared to inform him. He let them in without a word. Lucius entered with Draco behind.

"What is the occasion?" Snape drawled when he poured yet another glass of whiskey when they were back in the saloon. Lucius took the glass and sipped, Draco was silent and sat on the couch. "As you may know, the Dark Lord is dead. Killed at the hands of Potter, surprisingly."

Snape glanced towards Draco. "He is involved, Severus." Lucius said. Snape still looked at Draco, finding it unwise to include the boy in their Death Eater conversations, he didn't want him to be scarred for life. "How so?"

Lucius frowned, "The Dark lord hadn't told you? He wanted to put the Dark Mark on Draco." Snape then remembered that he still had the Dark Mark, despite Voldemort's death, it was still there. That brought many questions to Snape's mind, and worry aswell.

"The Death Eaters are almost entirely wiped out. The Overlord attacked our manor and captured the Dark Lord." Snape raised an eyebrow, not quite believing Lucius' recount of happenings. "Surely the Dark Lord couldn't have been bested?" He was getting even more worried now. "He was, I don't know how he did it, it caused the Dark Lord extreme pain."

Now Snape blanched. Voldemort stood no chance against a Pristi, after all. If the Dark Lord couldn't best Potter, than neither could Dumbledore without help. The help would be to somehow ally with the strongest magical creatures known to man. Giants, dragons...and more. A war will soon break out, the pressure on the back of his neck made him perspire and he just knew it was a tell tale sign of a storm brewing. He knew, he went through two of them already.

He poured himself another glass of whiskey and tried to not let his actions reveal his shock. It failed miserably. "Sev..." Draco spoke for the first time they got here. He looked to be in a dillema and looked at his father to convey something Snape couldn't catch. Lucius nodded. "Sev, me and father agreed that we would not keep you in the dark. You are my Godfather after all and family." Draco faintly smiled, however his mercury eyes portrayed worry and reluctance.

"Keep me in the dark about what?" Severus asked with a tight grip on his glass, expecting yet another shock to hit him. "I am a Pristi." Draco said, his eyes darting all over Snape's face looking for signs of rejection or hate. Severus' face was impassive like always. His mind reeled with the possibilities of how it could have come to that. Lucius nor Narcissa, rest her soul, displayed the typical characteristics of one. What was Draco babbling about? It was impossible, Snape confirmed.

"You are a what? Please say that again, a little more loudly." Snape felt his knees slightly shake. "I am a Pristi, Sev." Draco repeated, now fearful that Severus would have an outburst. Draco rarely saw Snape lose it, and was scared even more because of it. Snape turned to face Lucius. "You are one, aswell?" Lucius shook his head. "It isn't in the family, I assure you."

Then Snape focused back on Draco, trying to keep his voice calm and steady to not frighten Draco any further with an outburst. "Please explain." Draco gulped and began, "It was Havoc. He made me one of them." Snape raised his hand, this Havoc person, was it Potter? "Havoc?"

"Harry Potter. He has a way of turning wizards into Pristi. Sev, he gave me the power to keep father safe, and you. He even saved father when Voldemort wanted to kill him." Lucius nodded in agreement. "Harry stopped the killing curse from hitting me. The reason because Draco was alive." Snape couldn't believe what he was hearing. Potter beat Voldemort, turned his godson into a Pristi and saved Lucius who tried to kill him many times over - directly or indirectly - just because Draco, the person Potter hated the most, was alive? Had he stumbled upon an alternate dimension? Or was the whiskey drugged?

"You obviously don't believe me." Draco sighed and then looked around the room for something. Snape followed Draco's gaze when it settled on something and it was an empty bottle he forgot to remove. The bottle floated on it's own accord, but it was actually being carried by magic from Draco. Wandless magic. The bottle floated over to Snape and into his hand. Then it instantly froze, icicles and frost hung on it. Snape dropped it in surprise and it tumbled down onto the carpet.

"This is only a small part of what I can do, Sev. Havoc is the one who gave this to me." Snape understood what Draco meant but was still too shocked to respond. Has he been blinded by his own hatred towards James to see the true Harry Potter? It was incredibly hard to like Draco due to his snide character, but Harry actually wanted to bridge the rift even though they were arch rivals. He was wrong...

"Incredible, isn't it. He really is a bag of surprises sometimes." Draco noted with a smile. All three of them thought Potter was some spoiled little prick who had everything and fame was just there as a bonus. Neither of them knew what was happening to Harry back home. Draco now knew what happened and he suddenly had the urge to go to that muggle and break every bone in his body. Then he also remembered the day when he tore apart Bellatrix.

"Father, I killed Bellatrix, though you might want to know." Draco added. Lucius and Snape looked at him, incredulity written on their faces. Lucius' face slightly relaxed. "You should have left some of her for me." Snape shook his head in annoyance, too much information in so little time. The two were starting to give him a headache. "Where are you staying?" he asked. "We are back at the manor. Visit us sometime." Snape smirked, a half-hearted one. "Perhaps. You wouldn't mind letting yourselves out? I feel slightly under the weather."

Lucius and Draco nodded, and started toward the door. Draco stopped at the doorway leading out of the saloon and looked at Snape. "You hate me, Sev?" The incredulous look returned to Snape's face, "Of course not! You are my godson for crying out loud. Just keep Lucius safe, these are dangerous times." Draco smiled at his godfather, his spirit no longer weighed by fear and felt happy when Snape let go of his mask saying that. It meant a lot.

Draco then went to follow his father outside the wards around the house and they disappeared.

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><p><strong>There you go, Chapter 14. 11 more chapters to go.<strong>


	16. Meet Destiny

**'Ello my dear Reviewers, Favorites, Alertists and more to the 15th chapter of Domination Anew! Been on and off this chapter but I constantly went back thinking 'I gotta write atleast a sentence!' but then I just said nah and closed the document. That is one of the reasons why it took me this long to dish it out here for you guys.**

**On other news. One day I wandered through the accounts of my Reviewers and so on and stumbled upon this interesting and somewhat familar name. I thought 'Wait? Haven't I seen that author before?'. Exaigon is the name and when I went to see who it was. Bam! Emerald Servant right of the bat. I am obliged to say that I really enjoyed that piece of work and I feel privileged to have my own story reviewed by someone like that.**

**Small world, eh?**

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><p>Chapter 15<p>

Meet Destiny

It was over in a matter of seconds. Havoc expected more resistance, both from the metal and Voldemort. It vibrated as Voldemort's rage coursed through the blade, heated up until the lines in the blade started to glow red and soft blue. Havoc was relieved to remove Voldemort's presence that was starting to press upon his heart.

The metal was surprisingly resilient to Voldemort's attempts of breaking out, but Havoc made sure the blade was more than strong enough to contain the Dark Lord. His powers were growing at a much faster rate than normal, the knowledge of how to manipulate metals through magic and change them came to him as if he knew it already.

That made Havoc wonder how many more skills and information was in his head still locked. He was sure Arthur was preparing him, giving him the knowledge he would need during that year he was asleep. He could help and feel that Arthur expected something from him, but what? The pain in his lower abdomen distracted him from his thoughts and made him focus on the simmering blade in his hands.

Voldemort's attempts rolled magic out of the blade along with faint sparks. Havoc chuckled in amusement. Then he felt Rex approach from behind. Their connection was becoming more and more pronounced, now they could feel where they were when separated.

Rex placed a hand on Havoc's shoulder and he stepped to the side to see at what his lover was chuckling. The sizzling blade before them made quite a light show in the lowly lit bedroom. Sparks of many colours fizzled out of existence when launched from the boiling lanes in the sword. "Interesting."

"How are you feeling?" Havoc absently asked while staring at the blade, curious how long will Voldemort struggle.

"Fine, considering the circumstances. The shift was so miniscule I barely felt it. An improvement." Rex answered and sat next to Havoc, he too seemed to be engaged by the sparking sword. Havoc let his head fall on Rex's shoulder and let out a content sigh. "Today sure was tiring." he said with a slight wince. Rex frowned, he didn't like how Havoc was now in constant pain. It worried him.

Havoc easily read the worried frown and the emotions through the bond to know Rex started to fret again about him being in pain. "It hurts only a little, don't worry." Rex grunted his discontent but said nothing more, only draped his hand over Havoc's shoulders. The sword slowly cooled as Voldemort stopped fighting. "Will you be able to keep him from controling the sword?"

Havoc seemed to have fallen asleep and had to shake his head to wake up. "Yeah. Without a body and wand, Voldemort can't do much. Even if he did, I made the material to be resistant to foreign magic."

Both of them went silent, enjoying the moments of peace they had together, knowing they will be far in between and short. Tomorrow they must meet the _Concil_, a council of sorts set up by the Pristi remnants in an attempt to have some semblance of authority and government for a race in abysmal circumstances. The meeting could end in a disaster easily, a new authority coming in in such a disarray could provoke heated arguments and in worst case scenario, a fight.

Seeing that Havoc is hardly keeping himself awake, Rex took the sword and put it as far away from the bed as possible without moving from his spot. Deeming the sword far enough from them, he wrapped Havoc in his arms and placed a kiss on the teen's forehead before laying him on the bed.

Havoc didn't struggle since he was fast asleep already. Rex couldn't help but smile. The two laid in bed and Rex intertwined their fingers together, thinking he was mad for being in such an intimate position with someone other than Rose. And Rex still didn't care. He was here and now with Havoc and that is all he cared about.

"Sweet dreams." Rex whispered, prepared to suffer Havoc's nightmares in exchange for Havoc to have a good night's sleep. It would be worth it.

. . . .

The residents of the Crucible wasted no time preparing. Havoc was already in his armor and waiting for the others, specifically Kristina and Zoran who are yet to exit their room. The sword imbued with Voldemort's soul was in it's sheath across his thigh. Havoc thought it a fitting punishment for Voldemort; to serve his killer until the end. Maybe he could pass it on to his kids, too.

Then Havoc thought about how are they gonna have kids, Rex and him.

Speaking of the devil, Rex entered the throne room and stopped beside Havoc, armored in his menacing and thick armor. His red eyes wairly glanced at the sheathed sword, obviously concerned to have an object with such a malicious being residing in it close to his loved one. Havoc snorted in response.

"What is taking them so long?" Havoc grumbled to himself, eager to go. Rex walked down the long hall and banged on the door leading to the bedroom of the two siblings. He could hear shouting from beyond the door but nevertheless banged again until the door opened, and a furious looking Kristina stared down at Rex until she realized who she was glaring at.

"Oh, sorry. It's my brother, he is stubborn."

"Am not!" came Zoran's indignant reply. Rex tapped his foot in mock frustration, the clack unnerved the woman before him. "I'll be out in a minute." she said and closed the door. Rex then walked over back to Havoc to wait. "You are so persuasive." Havoc purred and slid a hand around Rex's waist and pulled him closer.

Rex didn't struggle and let himself be pulled into a strangely warm embrace. Despite their cold hard shells of armor, their bodies felt like were pressed together, feel each other's skin. Havoc failed to stop a throaty purr from leaving his mouth. Rex laid his head on top of Havoc's in a pseudo kiss, as a kiss could be with helmets on.

The pair parted when Kristina and Zoran finally left their room. Kristina had the decency to not intrude on them with such confused looks Zoran was giving them. She was about to smack her brother for acting like a fool, but Havoc stopped her. "Your brother stays here, as per our agreement." Havoc said. Kristina couldn't believe that a kid was within that armor, or acting so mature.

"Yes." Zoran didn't even try to protest, knowing that it would get him nowhere. Kristina was glad her brother had no outburst. "I think we will have to apparate the to location."

Havoc shook his head. "Not until I know where it is." Havoc drives a hard bargain, Kristina thought. He might aswell, a strong leader is what they needed, after all. "Austria, Vienna, in fact. It is underground."

"If we see anything wrong, your brother's life is forfeit." Havoc's voice was ice and chilled Kristina's spine while made Rex just the opposite. "O-of course," Kristina gave a reluctant answer. "You may apparate now." Vigil spoke from his spot from the middle of the room in his standard pose.

Havoc offered his armored hand to Rex and his other to Kristina. She took it and spun around, feeling her body twist until the sensation stopped and she could see a circular room with chairs all around with only one door. She remembered that door since she and her father passed through it several times.

"Unfortunately we will have to intrude on their daily meeting." Kristina said, her tone far from ashamed. Havoc spread his palm and put it in front of him, aimed at the floor. The floor cracked as a mound seeping brown-yellow energy burst out of the fine marble. Kristina blanched as the priceless floor was demolished.

"Why did you do that?" she hissed in distress. Rex thought her face couldn't get any paler, he was wrong, as when minions started to pour out of the mound heeding Havoc's bid. In a matter of seconds a dozen minions filled the already small apparition room. "Just in case." Havoc said with a sly grin.

Kristina shook her head and opened the door. Havoc could hear murmurs abruptly stop at the sudden intrusion. As if the minions have done it all their lives, the gremlins spread out into a defensive semi-circle and left Havoc and Rex space to come into the lengthy chamber with it a circular table in the middle.

Mostly middle-aged men and women were in the motion of rising or simply sitting in their chairs. A man with charcoal hair and long beard with yellow eyes was the first to speak. _"What is this? Kristina? Who are these people?"_

Havoc couldn't understand because the man spoke in croatian, but judging from the tone it was bordering on shouting. _"Havoc and Rex. The thin one is an Immortal."_ Kristina said. Exclamations of outrage and collective gasps filled the room. The men were yelling for the most part while the women either gasped or remained silent. Twenty council members in all.

"An Immortal? Kristina, if you are lying..." the one Rex and Havoc concluded to be her father - the similarity is staggering . said, his tone dangerously low. Havoc did the trick he used with Griphook and was slightly underwhelmed by their lack of reaction, or maybe they were too shocked to react properly.

The white symbol of infinity floated over his palm, every eye was upon it. After a whole minute of silent staring, a woman decided to break it. She had short blonde hair with deep blue eyes. She wore a regal suit that was borderline military, all she was missing was medals on her chest. "You must be the one causing trouble in England." her accent german, her elegant yet disciplined exterior was complete.

"I did what I had to," Havoc said. Now that the symbol was gone, the council member's eyes shifted from looking at the minions to Havoc, Rex and back again. "And what has made you come and interrupt our meeting?"

"Since you sent your spy, or assassin to keep an eye on me. I was curious to see who was watching me. Also Kristina here was helpful enough in mentioning Ritus Regulae, an event I would like to participate in." Havoc said. The council members then turned to stare at Kristina and seemed to be attempting to burn her to a crisp. And they might even actually do that, considering the many abilities of a Pristi, let alone twenty of them.

"Kristina, you've told him far too much." Kristina's father scolded. The look in his eye told Havoc the man had a far more brutal punishment than simple chastising in front of important people. "Hold on, Hrvoje." this time a man spoke. Dressed in a brown tunic with many modern details and shaggy hair with a wild beard to complement it, the man looked wild. "Every Pristi has the right to know of the rite."

"Even if that one could be very well the end of us all?" Hrvoje persisted. "Surely you are not crazy enough to challenge all of England." the german woman asked with a critical eyebrow.

"The wizards have gone soft. I've eliminated their specialized police with ease through preety basic tactics. Also I highly doubt many of the wizard populace is trained to fight against us." Havoc reasoned. "There is 200000 of us left spread around the world, and that number is dwindling at an alarming rate." the blonde woman said, now seated in her chair with her pose stiff as a pole.

"Do you think giving him that piece of information was wise,Louise." Hrvoje scowled. Havoc was starting to get agitated by the man's constant interruptions and the need-to-know. Louise gave him a scowl back, she too had little patience for the man. "Now that he is here, keeping information from him would only ruin the potential." she retorted. "Speaking of the rite we haven't had the chance of seeing in over five centuries, you wish to attempt and win the throne? A bold move, I admit. But what do you wish to accomplish?"

"Now I would have to reveal too much," Havoc said. They didn't need to know the full extent of his plan. "Let's just say I am ambitious sort. I am a patriot, though."

Louise's face showed she didn't trust a word he said, but she seemed to not reject them either. On the other hand, Hrvoje seethed and hadn't taken his eyes of his daughter for the whole time. Kristina exuded fear like she was on death row. Perhaps he should keep her close to him, that fear is note borne out of simple anxiety and the fear of parents, far from it. A hint of hatred tinged her face.

"Perhaps it would be best if we continued the discussion after the meeting." Louise gestured towards a door opposite her. In awkward silence, Havoc, Rex and Kristina followed by the minion cohort left the chamber.

The group didn't wait long for the meeting to end an Louise with a feminine-looking man enter the waiting room. "Apologies for the lack of respect from Brand. The situation in his country is rather dire and has left his nerves more frayed than usual. Kristina, dear, your father wants to speak with you."

Kristina simply bowed her head and left the room. "Clever girl, Kristina," Louise said. "The only good thing her father gave her was the eye for opportunity."

The man beside her coughed. Havoc at first thought the man was an elf of some sort. The long hair tied into a ponytail and extravagant robes screamed elf. "We have been so rude. Welcome to Vienna. I am Adair, representative of Austria in the council." the man didn't offer his hand but kept a benign smile.

"Austria has a very intimate relationship with a small elven community." Louise explained, she too seemed to find the man insufferable. Neighbourly squabbles, Havoc thought. "A pleasure." Havoc said, feeling far older than he is, being on the brink of death did that to people. Adair looked impressed by the manner of their uninvited visitor.

"Alas, I have to take my leave of you, gentlemen." Adair rolled his eyes and went to another door and disappeared. "Artificial." Louise grumbled. "I do not know if you coming is a godsend or a tragedy. We have grown docile after the Great Hunt, and will be stirred out of their comfortable spots into action, something they don't like." Louise said. "Believe me, I'm all for the rite, if you are a true Immortal. Hrvoje will be an obstacle, the Brand's always were when Immortals were on the scene."

"Why are you so supportive of me?" Havoc asked, the willingness from the woman was unnerving. Louise gave him a small smile. "Let's just say I'm a patriot. Old habits die hard, also I miss leading troops."

"A former general?" Rex finally said something. "Been alive since the late Empire, I rivaled even Russell, the english general who lead the main army. The Immortals really have the right stuff in creating and maintaining an empire. After half of a millenia of being hunted down and eradicated, it is high time we proved we were the true rulers of this world." Louise didn't radiate the fanatic vibe such patriots usually had, she did believe in what she just said, and she was right.

"If we are so powerful, how did the wizardkind beat us?" Havoc was truly confused by that fact. "The wizards were far more powerful than now, why their power is declining I do not know, but despite their weakness, they managed to wipe enough of us out to prevent any proper retaliation and have kept our numbers low. Perhaps we will be roused into a big enough frenzy by the rite to actually start something." Louise sat, feeling completely comfortable in their presence. The way Havoc was asking, she knew the boy was serious about this, and had a good feeling, her gut was telling her so.

"The council has agreed to meet tomorrow to discuss _Ritus_. Half of the council thinks it would be prudent to consider it because an appearance of an Immortal changes everything. The Immortals are legends, winning the tournament every decade. It will inspire all of the Pristi." Louise said. Havoc understood what she meant but still couldn't feel the weight of it, not really.

Louise vacated the chair and took a small stone out of her pocket, it was a regular every day stone you could find in your backyard and offered it to Havoc. "Means of communication. I will contact you when a decision has been made."

Havoc took the stone and felt nothing that would give a clue that the stone had tracking magic on it, he even extended his magic into it and still detected nothing except the communicative capabilities. "I'm not interested in ruling, my lord." Louise said. "And I'm not interested in keeping docile, either."

Rex leaned down to whisper in Havoc's ear, "Having her as an ally would be make your ascent much easier and faster." "Knew you liked her." Havoc replied with a smirk and felt Rex's amusement flow through their bond. "The only one i like is you, vixen." Rex whispered with a sultry tone that sent tingles down Havoc's spine and into his crotch. "Unfair."

"All is fair in love and war." Louise said, her face composed but her blue eyes showed surprise. She didn't expect for the teen to have a lover, that took her by surprise. This made her worry if the man was using Havoc to get to the throne in some way, she will have to be cautious around the man.

"Glad to have a chat with you, my lord." Louise said with an air of finality about her. "I have pressing matters to attend to. Stay in touch." she gave a slight bow and went through the door leading to the council chamber, probably going to the apparition room.

"Do you think we scared her off?" Havoc asked, a little worried but too aroused to care too much. "Maybe." Rex answered, "Let's go home."

Havoc nodded and led the way.

* * *

><p>The sleep was vacant of dreams, no memories were there to haunt Hermione, no regret or pain, and for the first time since Havoc's jump she slept peacefully. It, however, didn't feel long and Hermione found herself waking up in a fetal position on the bed she vaguely remembered laying on when Havoc transformed her.<p>

She didn't feel any different than before. All she could feel were subtle flows, like an air current but far more intangible. Curious if she wasn't under the influence of placebo, she made a testing wave and was surprised to see the table shift to the side a few meters.

It was an uncontrolled yelp that left Hermione's throat and attracted a minion dressed in a light gray robe to open the door and enter. "Ah, you are awake," the minion said and looked at the desk, "Seems the transformation was successful."

A pulse distracted Hermione from the minion, it was beneath her. Magic pulsed like a heart and Hermione felt dwarfed by the enormity of it. She started to open her body to it, to the magic surrounding her, and felt her body become almost one with it. A gnarled clawed hand gripped her wrist and shook her out of her trance.

"I advise you refrain from doing that yet. Your core is still too fragile, Mistress." Hermione felt like she was violently torn from the world at that moment and winced slightly. The minion before her watched her, the bulging yellow eyes inspected her whole as if looking for injuries.

"Mistress?" Hermione was confued as to how she got that title. "You are now one of our master's, Mistress. How should we call you then?" the minion answered. Hermione then felt uncomfortable, she didn't want to burden them and remembered Dobby and the house elves. "What happened to the house elves?"

A loud pop distracted the minion before responding. Dobby with his huge tennis ball eyes looked first at the minion and then at Hermione. "You called?" he asked with his squeaky voice.

"Dobby!" Hermione was happy to see the elf, she worried what had happened to him and the others in the kitchen and was about to walk over to him when her legs betrayed her and she fell down. "Oh my," the minion said. "You shouldn't move yet. Let me help you up." Dobby had a worried frown on his small face and helped Hermione up with the minion.

Hermione felt so exhausted suddenly and just wanted to go back to bed. Slight guilt hit her when Dobby appeared in her field of vision, she was too tired to even ask Dobby how he was. "We are fine, Mistress." Dobby said. "Don't worry." Hermione wanted to say something or even move, but her body didn't answer to her orders.

"Exhaustion is normal, though the last one was in a coma, a visible improvement." the minion doctor said. A cold ball formed in her stomach, the last one was in a coma? Who was it? But she was to tired to keep that train of thought and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>The television spewed the news that nobody cared about like everyday, and Vernon Dursley cared the least about what happened in the world. It would only needlessly frustrate him.<p>

Dudley should come home in an hour from school, Vernon thought. Petunia was in the garden despite the horrible weather outside that looked like it would pour rain or snow, and that made Vernon cringe.

His mind wandered to the previous year and to the day when he learned that the freak he was forced to take care of was dead and will never come back here. That day became a holiday in the Dursley family, to Vernon at least. Petunia and Dudley lacked enthusiasm in the matter, but Vernon didn't care.

That has been happening a lot lately. Vernon had stopped caring about lots of things and has been living the life a normal person should. His job was doing fine and was steady, everything was as it should be. At that moment Vernon felt like nothing could go wrong.

Then a knock on the door shook him out of his musing. It was afternoon so it was not an unreasonable time to come visit. He went to the door and opened it.

It was one of those rare moments when a person asks themselves if they were losing their minds, but Vernon had no doubt his mind was perfectly there due to his knowledge of the strange side of Petunia's family.

Even with that kind of knowledge, nothing could have prepared him for what has now standing on his doorstep. Two knights, one small and the other large. Their size made him take a few steps back, the Fight or Flight kicked in and he decided Fight.

"Who are you?"

"Uncle Vernon, I've missed you." the smaller knight said with that familiar voice Vernon has heard scream countless times. The freak was back, to haunt him? To exact revenge? Either way he won't let whatever that creature was into his home. Two pairs of eyes: red and green, bore into him as he slowly backed away to the closet behind him.

Inside was his shotgun he decided to buy for the occasions when freaks came knocking on his door, he wouldn't stand for those things to even be on his doorstep, let alone enter the house. Petunia and Dudley didn't know about it.

With speed fueled by adrenaline he opened the closet and took the shotgun, kept loaded allways. He whirled around and pointed it at the chest of the smaller knight. Havoc raised his hand, "Put that down before you hurt yourself, maggot." his voice hard.

"Get out of my house, vermin." Vernon said, matching Havoc's tone. Havoc had no reaction except that his eyes went slightly more wide. After a long silent moment he started toward Vernon. Vernon pulled the trigger and his eyes rang from both the shot and and loud clang that erupted from Havoc's chestplate.

Havoc was lifted from his feet for a meter and doubled-over on his knees. Rex was about to cut the man down when Havoc stopped him with a hand on his side. "Didn't know you had the guts to pull the trigger." his voice was hoarse, the blast hit him hard into the chest but that was it, the pellets weren't even close in penetrating the thin armor. Rip really was a master smith.

Rex helped Havoc up and looked at the blasted chestplate. Not even a dent but a bit black from the burst from the shotgun. "Vernon! What is going on! Vernon!" Petunia called from the kitchen. "Stay where you are, Petunia! Stay in the kitchen!" Vernon shouted, not moving his shotgun out of line with Havoc's chest. It was one of those that hold about eight patrones and Vernon wasn't afraid to use it.

"Oh, Petunia! Please come in. I was about to say hello to Vernon when he just went and shot me." Havoc called. "Shot!" Petunia almost screeched and appeared in the hallway. A hand flew to her mouth in shock. "Harry? Is that you?"

"Petunia, would you mind if I took your husband for a chat in the basement?" Havoc didn't wait for Petunia's approval and walked toward Vernon who pulled the trigger again. He expected the shot and his armor redirected the force of the pellets in all directions away from his chestplate, only soot clung to it.

The pellets ricochet and one went dangerously close to Vernon. Havoc slapped the shotgun out of the man's arms and took him by collar, and started dragging him towards the basement. The place where he was tortured time and time again when he lived here, in this accursed house.

Vernon fell with a dull thud onto the concrete floor that - despite it being clean - Havoc remembered every speck and drop of his blood that was on spilled on it.

"Rex, lock the door."

Havoc could hear the familiar shunk of the door being locked, something Vernon always did before one of their sessions and it has imbedded that horrible feeling of helpless terror so deep in his psyche that he even now was struggling against the wiring in his head that screamed at him to shut up, lay on the floor and resign to his fate.

Vernon turned onto his back and glared at Havoc in both animalistic rage and terror. Havoc would have gloated at the irony of his uncle's position, but was too frayed by the memories that he would be never able to let go of. He wasn't even aware that Rex gave a firm and reassuring hand on his shoulder, his emotions were layed bare by their bond, and Havoc felt ashamed of exposing Rex to them.

"Don't let it fester." Rex grimly said, his gaze upon Vernon who struggled up to his feet. With a sudden burst of released rage, Havoc sent a metal boot into Vernon's side and the man collapsed back to the floor clutching his ribs. Rex felt the rage hit him as if a physical blow hit his chestplate.

"That is nothing, you sick fuck!" Havoc screamed raising his foot, and smashing it down onto his uncle's ankle. The sick crack of bone and cartilage made Havoc cringe but he pressed his foot even more to cause as much pain as possible. Vernon screamed.

Both Rex's and Havoc's ears rang with the man's screaming, and both enjoyed them. Havoc reached for Vernon's pants and violently tore the belt, almost lifting Vernon off the ground. "Let's see how the buckle works on you?"

Vernon's eyes went wide as the buckle flew with a snap. The sharp edge hit his thigh while the round tip that went into the belt hole tore into flesh like a bullet. His throat was horse from the screaming and could only cough his pain. The rest of the leather sent blazing pain through his entire leg.

The oblivion of unconsciousness edged around his vision and Vernon was happy to heed it's call. His eyes started dropping, and as they closed a jolt of pain made him reel. "Oh no, you won't get off so easy." Havoc growled. Vernon heaved as he held his chest, he desperately wanted this to end, to fall asleep out of this nightmare.

Maybe that was it? He must've fell asleep on the sofa and is having a nightmare. Of course it is! It couldn't be real, the freak was dead. But why was the pain so real?

Havoc stopped his punishment and looked at his uncle in confusion. The look of both wonder and enlightenment upon the man's face was the last thing he expected to see. Has Vernon turned into a masochist? Havoc hoped not, that would ruin the entire concept of torturing his heart out filled with agony and anguish.

With a testing whack, Vernon's eyes closed in pain. The pain was real, this wasn't a figment of his imagination. Havoc could see Vernon's eyes turn back to him in that same trepidation and horror when he saw Hagrid, but with even more intensity.

The sadistic urge to hurt the man who tortured him flared up in Havoc and he didn't need to order his hands to start yet another onslaught. The buckle shifted from one leg to the other and back until with such ferocity it lunged towards the wrist of Vernon's hand and destroyed it.

"How does it feel? The pain is unbearable, isn't it!? I faced this with not even a cry, you sick bastard!" Havoc shook with rage, tears rolled down his cheeks that only he could feel. Vernon's voice was now drowned out as his arm worked the belt, but his mind was not there to enjoy it. He wandered through the broken avenues of lost childhood.

Where are you mother? Father? I didn't deserve this, did I? Why? I haven't done anything wrong! How dare Dumbledore take from him his life!? His family!

A hand stopped his from striking again. Havoc turned his head, on the brink of crying and saw Rex look into his eyes. "He is dead." Rex said. Havoc couldn't understand Rex's words at first and turned to see Vernon lying in a puddle of his own blood, his eyes rolled back into his head and a small stream of blood poured from a torn juggular.

"How?" Havoc asked with a meek voice. "You've been hitting him a whole minute. One of your strike hit his throat and he bled out." Rex gently took the blood-soaked belt from Havoc's hand and threw it across the room. Havoc slowly turned and feverishly enveloped Rex, his head pressed into Rex's chest.

Their armors clacked as they touched in silence. Rex could feel Havoc as a small furnace in his arms, warm. "Rex, do you love me?" Havoc asked in a voice that made Rex's heart break. "Of course I love you." it was an automatic reaction for Rex, he had no doubt in his mind that would be in the way. "Or is it the Heart that is making you love me?"

"The Heart? What does it have to do with my love for you, Havoc?" Rex didn't understand and got Havoc at an arms-lenght to see into those green eyes he was in love with. "When I was unconscious when you said you loved me, the Heart reacted to it, it put something in motion. Is your love for me true, or is the Heart making you love me."

Silence fell upon the pair. Havoc waited with caught breath while Rex looked at him with a stumped expression in his eyes. The possibilty of Rex saying it was true made Havoc's chest constrict and heart flare with anger fueled by betrayal, but kept himself in check, waiting.

After a heavy minute Rex finally spoke. "The Heart...it hasn't made me love you, Havoc. I was a broken man when I came here. Magic can't mend a broken heart, only a person can, and you healed me. I love you because...you deserve it. It will sound stupid but I believe we are connected by something more than just the bond." Rex said, taking Havoc's hand and pressing it against his chest. "Do you feel it? My warm skin even though all you are touching is my cold armor? This is something I've only felt once, and that was when my wife was alive."

Havoc could indeed feel Rex, his warmth as if the armor was skin. He felt it on separate occasions, but now that he was fully aware of it's existance, it was strong. "Who was she?" he asked, wondering who was before him.

"Her name was Rose. She was very much like you, but less hectic. Come, this room will only hurt you." Rex said and led Havoc up the stairs and through the door. Petunia, white as a sheet, sat on the floor with her hands shaking in front of her. "He is dead, isn't he?" she looked at the pair with glassy bulging eyes.

"He is, Aunt Petunia. He deserved it much worse. Let's go Rex." Havoc started for the door when Petunia rose up and caught his hand on the knob, it was shaking. "Harry...I-I...Where have you been? They said you were dead..."

"Harry is dead. Havoc is what remains." Havoc said and started turning the knob. Petunia let her hand fall and just stared at Havoc, his shaking form made Petnuia's eyes water with grief. She knew what her husband was doing to him, but she was too weak to do anything about it. All she could do is prevent their son Dudley in becoming Vernon.

In silence the two knights left the house and were glad to leave it's pain-saturated confines.

* * *

><p>"I expected Lord Thorn. It is shocking that the hunters were aware of his true identity." Rip said from his seat opposite of Carlyle Elethea dressed in the traditional armor of a battlemage. With the <em>Ritus<em> almost certainly going under way, Rip deemed it prudent to assemble as much support as possible in England. His first was the old general Lord Thorn who led the main host of the Pristi Empire. Eleathea's presence here was not suprising.

"You and me both." Carlyle said. "Thankfully I managed to get such information from one of them. Lord Thorn is in his residence with the family back in Egypt. But an Immortal? Hard to believe."

"True, true. I remember the Alvin dynasty being rather close with the Elethea, I'm glad that my memory still serves me well." Carlyle chuckled, he was no stranger to minions, he had met some of them and had an opportunity to get acquainted with them in the short time when even Elethea lost their right to minions. "My condolences to you, such a tragedy to be the last one. I guess you will find common ground with Sire Havoc."

"Being last of your kind seems like a sore topic to make friends." Carlyle retorted and sipped at the whiskey in his glass, since Russell was so kind to leave him a bottle, why waste it? He winced as the strong alcohol burned his throat and finally settled in his stomach with a warm sensation.

"Perhaps. Might I suggest you return with me? I'm sure Havoc will appreciate your talents as a healer, few of your caste remain." Rip went to jump out of the chair and Carlyle followed him in motion. "Well, I have nowhere to go honestly. Bodies will start piling if I stay."

Rip looked at Carlyle and gave him a shar-toothed smile. "Indeed."

It was first time for Carlyle to use a teleportation method such as that. The mesmerizing sensation of almost getting lost in the ebbs and flows of magic and being himself again was puzzling and his head reeled with explanations, it was something he wanted to dissect and see how it worked.

Even his extensive knowledge of the Pristi homes detailed in their old ledgers and tomes of the old Empire hasn't been able to prepare him for the grandeur of the hall before him. He felt as if he went back in time a millenia and that time here had no meaning. Perhaps it didn't, magic was strong enough to fend of the teeth of time.

"Grand isn't it. Although a bit too well lit." Rip cringed at the chandelier that utilized not torches or candles but the crystals themselves to produce light. Carlyle looked at the chandelier with childish curiosity. Truly this place was a treasure trove of knowledge just by glancing at it.

"Master Rip, glad to see your return to be unscathed." Vigil's eye floated over to them. Vigil had his eyes everywhere but his head, Rip thought. Carlyle couldn't contain his surprise at seeing the eye. "Welcome to the Crucible...There seems to be something wrong with your eye."

Carlyle reached for his left eye. It remained the cobalt colour of Revant, after that night he couldn't revert it back. Though Revant remained to be inactive most of the time. He shook his head. "Not to worry. May I ask for your name?"

The eye gazed at his face for a long moment, seemingly surprised by the kind manner he was asked. Vigil still hasn't gotten used to the new generation of Pristi. "Vigil, my name is Vigil. Will you be staying long?" Vigil looked at Rip for the answer while Carlyle didn't turn in the act of proper etiquette of not demanding something such as a lodging from his host.

"He will be here for an indefinite time. Find him a room." Rip said and was about to leave when he said, "We will discuss this later." Carlyle nodded and followed the floating eye of Vigil.

As he passed the rows of armors on each side he spotted the many alcoves housing doors. All of them were closed. He had a feeling very few people lived here, if any. As if someone read his thought, laughter burst from somewhere behind the large statue of Vigil who dominated the scenery to prove him wrong.

Minions sat in two rows, objects ranging from chicken to goblet in their hands and all of them either spilling or falling onto the table. Carlyle has never seen such a chaotic mealtime and had the instinctive urge to give the group a wide berth. Vigil's eye seemed to think that, too, and floated beside the walls, well enough away from any projectiles.

As they neared the far end of the long table, Carlyle noticed a girl with a plate in her hand with a quite an assortment of food on it, but her face was scrunched up in annoyance. Perhaps the food wasn't to her liking, Carlyle thought, but the minions made him draw a different conclusion.

"Good afternoon, Mistress Granger." Vigil said when he passed by. The girl smiled at the eye and when she saw Carlyle, the radiant yet slack smile disappeared. Carlyle felt the potency of the girl, she radiated visibly, but he did not let it intimidate him. Far from it, it made him curious. "Hello, Vigil. Who's this?"

Her tone was far from polite, but who could blame her. Carlyle certainly didn't, he looked imposing in his armored robes. "Master Carlyle of the Elethea, Mistress. He will be staying per Minion master Rip's orders."

Mistress Granger's eyes narrowed in scrutiny, her reaction told very much to Carlyle that she was new to this enviroment, the tense shoulders and the inescapable feel of not belonging that rolled off her was almost palpable. "A pleasure to meet you, Mistress." Carlyle bowed as per his upbringing.

"Uhh...a pleasure." she went along with it, clearly not used to such manners. With a warm smile Carlyle followed the eyeball to his room.

Hermione finished her rather hefty meal when upon a meek question the minions gave her room at the table, keeping their flagons and pieces of meat not flying her way. She glanced two forms darting and disappearing in the direction of Havoc and Rex's bedroom. She came to a conclusion Havoc was back from wherever he had gone.

They managed only to remove their helmets before they were in the bed kissing. Havoc couldn't keep his attention on Rex's lips and needily switched all across Rex's face, nipping and kissing. Rex could feel the desperation and need for comforting even without their bond. Their armors scraped against each other and have crushed the pillows beneath them.

He could feel beside Havoc's mouth kissing his face a pair od hands struggling to find the many hooks that kept the chestplate together. With gentle pushes he pushed away the arms and went to remove the chestplate. With skilled fingers the chestplate was off Rex in a matter of seconds and was left forgotten beside the bed.

Havoc removed most of his upper armor and was upon Rex immediately after, making worried noises. He needed Rex's touch, to feel every part of the man's body lest he start crying and breaking down. Rex grunted under his weight. During their kissing the rest of their armors were removed until they were in their body gloves serving to make the armor more comfortable and even those were removed with haste.

Both of them finally realized that they were naked and in close proximity of each other. Havoc's green eyes glew with grief and need while Rex was simply stunned. Their bodies pressed together was far more sensational than the dream and could feel the electric jolts of magic sparking between them. Havoc's lips were full and slightly bruised from the force with which the teen kissed, two dots where Rex bit him and left a mark stood out on Havoc's bottom lip.

Rex pressed his hands on Havoc's sides and went up and down, feeling the soft skin under his fingers. Havoc closed his eyes and moaned, Rex could feel the teens member twitch against his belly. Havoc yelped as Rex wrapped his hand around him and suddenly found himself on his back with Rex on top of him. The big warmth of the man's body disappeared but Rex started to plant kisses all over his chest, his tongue trailing until he reached one of the nipples.

Havoc gasped as he felt the tongue swirl around the sensitive spot. The trail of hot saliva lead then down to his belly button. He was giddy from the spasms his muscles made as Rex tickled his belly button with his tongue. The magic sparks went rampant from Rex's tongue. Soon Rex's mouth reached it's destination. Rex looked at the twitching member and found it beautiful.

Yet another gasp left Havoc's lips when he felt his member become enveloped by Rex's mouth, and the jolts of magic were making his entire body burn with ecstasy. The grief that constricted his heart dissolved as if Rex's ministrations were the cure for the tumor growth. His mind swirled and was barely cognizant of what was happening, his entire body running on instinct. His hands clenched and gripped the mangled pillows on his sides while his hips slightly bucked upwards as Rex's head bobbed up and down his erection.

What Rex's tongue did to him made his teeth clench and eyes twist from feelings he would have never dreamed of feeling. The pressure inside him steadily rose until his own resolve broke.

Rex felt hot liquid burst into his mouth and throat. In surprise his throat swallowed half of it in reflex while the rest filled his mouth. It was salty and had that arousing scent. He let Havoc's member go from his mouth and looked at Havoc who looked at him with eyes misty with lust. He swallowed and felt some of Havoc's seed still slip out as he moved to kiss those wanting lips.

Their mouths opened and let their tongues to touch, swirl and twist in an attempt to engage every centimeter of surface. Havoc's tongue went to wander around Rex's while the latter wandered the formers. The ever-present magic sparked within. Havoc felt Rex's erection grind against his spent member and found himself hard again. Rex broke the kiss and let Havoc's mouth to explore his neck.

Rex was a very silent man, Havoc feverishly thought in those rare moments he could think properly. Rex only expressed his pleasure with grunts and faint exhalations while Havoc was on the brink of squealing and moaning. The he felt his lover shift and the neck suddenly became a distant proposition to kiss. He looked at what Rex was up to and saw Rex doing something with glazed eyes around his crotch. Then he felt the tip of Rex's finger at his entrance.

With a concerned yet lustful look Rex slowly pressed in, delighting in the moan it elicited out of Havoc. The warm walls spasmed to his intrusion. With a probing thrust or two he wiggled it around and pressed a second finger when he felt it stretched enough. With the increasing tightness Havoc moaned and rolled his head. Rex grinned, enjoying in making his lover squirm under his touch.

Feeling the tightness around his finger's lessen, he slowly pulled out and conjured lube, something Rose taught him when they wanted to get kinky. He took the gel and dipped his fingers in it and rubbed them against Havoc's entrance. Soon after he pushed in to lube the inside and then coated his member in the gel.

Rex moved to be above Havoc and pressed a kiss before saying, "I'm going in. Ready?" Havoc looked at him and gave a slight nod. Rex gave him a reassuring smile and enveloped the teen before softly pressing in. Havoc gasped, he hadn't expected for Rex to be so large as it slid into him. His walls adapted to it's large form and Havoc felt comfortable with Rex inside him.

Then it started to move, in and out, in and out when Rex's hips worked back and forth. Havoc moaned and groaned as each thrust sent jolts of pleasure through his spine. At first Rex went slow, almost grinding until he started to pick up the pace, shaking Havoc with the force of his thrusts. Havoc's hands raked at his back while the teen's teeth nibbled at his earlobe. Rex shifted and then struck something within Havoc that made his entire body spasm, wracked with nerves frayed by pleasure. "AH! There! There!" Havoc moaned and desperately positioned his hips so Rex could easily hit that spot again.

Rex grinned as he started to slowly pound into Havoc with each second thrust hitting the point that felt like a soft bulge, Havoc's body shook in his arms and he too had to moan from the sheer act of pleasing his lover, and soul mate, he added.

Their bond seemed to spiral with the mutual wild emotions of lust and pleasure. Rex had to increase the pace or he thought he would burst if he didn't. He pressed his mouth to Havoc's ear. "I'm coming..." he said hoarsely, sweat beading on his forehead. Actually both of them were sweating and sticked together, but that only served to make them even more aroused. With three last thrusts Rex burst into Havoc, glad it was reality and not a dream. The concept of Havoc being filled with his seed made him grin and now that it was realized he was content.

Havoc quivered under him, the nipping stopped and Rex craned his neck backwards to see if Havoc was awake. The teen was awake but was caught up in the afterglow that he simply layed there, staring at the ceiling. "Love you." Rex whispered and got a beautiful smile as a reward.

With a dual content sigh and a soft pop as Rex slid out of Havoc they fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

><p><strong>I find my writing of a sexual scene rather lack luster, wouldn't you say? I do hope I will improve somewhat and that you enjoyed this chapter. Do Review, let me know what you guys think! :)<strong>


	17. Final Wish

**Chapter 16 Ladies and Gentlement, Reviewer, Favoritist and alike! This particular piece has been hard on me. It twisted and turned, stubborn to not be written, or was it just me any my characteristic lazyness?** **Whatever the case, all it matters is that it's here, now and that you guys can enjoy it!**

**R&R everybody and enjoy the show!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 16<p>

Final Wish

The dunes looked like mountains to Commander Krin and his troupe of elite minions. Before them was a long stone path draped with jungle foliage that was out of place with the dunes surrounding it. It looked like a secret jungle sprung up in a primordial crater.

This time they wore white and beige armor draped with white cloth, to prevent from heating up in their black armor. Still the golden insignia had it's place on Commander Krin's helmet. With a silent motion with his hand they ventured into the thick jungle.

In a few spots here and there they had to utilize their uniform halberds to clear the almost ancient stone path that was overgrown with moss. All around the positively glowing troupe were sounds of birds and insects; the whole place was a world of it's own.

They marched for half an hour before reaching the border of the jungle and where an iron-wrought fence started. Posts of stone with iron lanterns flanked the double wrought-iron gates. They were tightly closed and pent-up with protective wards. The troupe stopped meters away from the gates and Krin pondered.

They must've been detected the moment they entered the crater by the inhabitants, or in this case, the Alvin's. It was doubtful that they didn't recognize the distinct imprint a minion left in magic and would've opened the gates if everything was proper. Minions stood no chance against their masters, a troupe had little chances of overpowering one, let alone kill.

Considering it, Krin came to a conclusion that bothered him. There was a possibility that either nobody was here or were attacked. With that scenario in mind, he ordered his minions to be on guard before approaching the gates.

"Commander Krin, servant of the Overlord Immortal, requests an audience." he spoke, his voice commanding yet respectful. The voice that greeted him was more than disturbing, it was that of a woman who sounded to be badly injured. "Get in here, now!"

The gates swung open sharply with force. Krin signaled for the minions to get ready and to move in. Their armor creaked as they swiftly moved down the path and towards an Arabian mansion. In a matter of minutes they reached an extravagant large porch framed by creepers with purple flowers. A set of mahogany double-doors led into the mansion.

Like a squad of professional soldiers, the minions flanked the doors and burst in with every part of the room in sight. Lightning-stricken furniture and large pieces of tile floor littered the ground. Some parts of the walls were blown apart by what seemed a fireball. Krin spotted pieces of armor, too, but couldn't divine of who it was.

Sounds of battle came from up the huge staircase before them that led up to the first floor. A squad of minions remained bottom to search out while the rest of the twenty minions went up. The mansion itself felt like a maze and Krin was relying on his hearing to lead them to aid the Alvin's. After a minute of running they stumbled upon chaos that engulfed the hallway. Stray bolts of energy and flame darted in every direction imaginable.

Krin had to pull in one of his men back when a molten shard of metal sizzled right where the minion's head was a moment prior. He looked around the corner. The towering from of a Pristi swung his sword left and right with a desperate quality while his shield slammed into a cloaked figure. Actually he was surrounding by the cloaked assailants who swung seemingly normal long swords. They hit every now and then but hadn't penetrated the carapace.

With each swing the Pristi got lower, even though the weapons looked like they were ineffective. Seeing that time is short, Krin ordered a full charge. He was infront with his metal buckler and a wicked machete, and his subordinates made a sollid wall of halberds pointed forward.

Sickening sounds of flesh being sliced open and bones breaking filled the hallway when the wall of halberds reached the group. Just with that attack the enemy number fell rapidly with barely ten of them remaining, battering upon a prone Pristi who was barely blocking the attacks with a sword. The appearance of reprieve and space let the Pristi in crusader armor to charge at the last ten, impaling two on his sword. The rest was killed by the minions.

The aftermath was stomach-churning. The iron smell of blood and spilt viscera was nauseating. Smoke filled the hallway as clothes and the walls were slowly burning. The crusader helped the alien looking Pristi to it's feet. They both looked haggard with soot and their slouching posture.

"Get Jason over here." the crusader grounded out through gritted teeth. Krin approached them, sheathing his machete. "Master Thorn?"

The dull red eyes set upon him, they looked tired and in pain. "How nice of the Overlord to come visit." his tone was sarcastic. Krin shook his head, "I've come under the orders of Minion Master Rip, sir."

Before Thorn could say anything, a boy how looked to be thirteen years old came into the hallway, his eyes wide in fear. "We will talk later. Jason, help your mother,will you?" Jason didn't even nod and went to help his mother into the room he just left. Krin stationed his troupe around the hallway and the room before following Master Thorn inside.

Thorn and his wife were sitting against the wall, their breaths were rapid and shallow. Jason - their son, Krin presumed - was tending to his mother with what looked like healing magic. There was also a young girl who was a year older of her brother who was healing her father.

"Who were those people, father?" the girl asked, her face scrunched up in disgust that had nothing to do with the smell. That expression was also on her brother's face.

"Wizards, Lis." Thorn's answer was brief and strained. Krin walked over. "Me and my men will keep watch around the perimeter until you are better." With that he left the room and started making preparations for any possible attack.

* * *

><p>She stared into her reflection, she looked the same, acted the same, but something inside her snapped on that day. Or was it the fact Havoc was still alive and changed her? Ron's reaction was justified, Hermione reasoned, what Havoc asked of him is a bit radical...but that's how the world works, right?<p>

Both of them had to grow up into the harsh reality that death had no favorites and that, especially now, death is everywhere. She managed to read up on some Pristi history and found that they were a warrior race with heavy emphasis on bonds and family, the many dynasties might be the product of such culture. The warrior part did little to comfort her, but family got her hopes up, she could be family to Havoc - if he ever forgave her.

Someone knocked on her door. Hermione had to rip away her gaze from the mirror in her bathroom and went to the door. It was Havoc who's cheeks were flushed, lips full and green eyes glowed.

"Oh." he said, "Did I wake you?"

Hermione shook her head, the bushy mess of her hair swinged left and right. "Come in." she said and closed the door when Havoc came in. He was wearing a red bath robe and his hair was slightly wet and curled into black and white tendrils.

"You look great." Hermione pointed out. Havoc turned and smiled at her fondly. "How are you? Feeling okay?" He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder without an ounce of shame. She didn't shrug it off when she felt Havoc's magic seep into her and prod at her core. "I feel fine, though now I can feel myself smothered by magic around me." Sometimes Hermione found it hard to breathe.

"You'll get used to it. Look, I'm sorry for making you choose, I shouldn't have." Hermione hurriedly took his hand into her own and rubbed it. "Oh no no no. It's not your fault. We should be here for you, me and Ron. We owe you and because we are friends, and friends stick together through thick and thin."

Havoc looked unconvinced and Hermione continued, "Ron...Ron wasn't the same after your fall, none of us were. After a year, we started to heal and now that you are back, it's confusing. We don't know what to think. Havoc, you deserve far more than you were given. I can only hope to be a small part in your life." Havoc looked at her and Hermione enveloped him in a hug.

"You're awesome, Mione." Havoc said into her shoulder. Hermione chuckled, "That's what friends are for." They stood like that until both of them separated. "So, what's got you so chirpy?" Hermione asked.

Havoc blushed as he remembered what Rex did to him yesterday. "Rex..." that was as far as he would go. Hermione first looked at him then said, "That big guy?" It took a second later for her to realize. "Oh...I'm so happy for you."

Havoc blushed even more. "Anyway, just wanted to see how you were doing. I'll teach you some things when you want, also I'll ask Rex if he could teach you how to fight."

"Fight?" Hermione said with incredulity in her voice. "As in with wands?"

Havoc grinned and shook his head. "No. Swords and knives." Without waiting for Hermione's response Havoc left the room.

Just as he left his gaping friend did the stone in his pocket softly vibrate and send a spike into his body to signal someone was waiting to have their call answered. He took out the stone and opened the channel. The familiar german accent of Louise, a former Pristi general and now a member of the _Concil_.

"My lord, I'm informing you that the _Ritus Regulae_ will be attended. The council was divided almost equally with only one vote more. As a candidate you will be present on the next meeting tomorrow." Her tone was solid and slightly mechanical. "I will be there." Havoc said and felt the connection break. He pocketed the stone and went to cuddle with a still sleeping Rex.

* * *

><p>Commander Krin was inspecting the perimeter when one of his subordinates informed him that Master Thorn requested his presence. With a slight nod he started to the lobby, jumping across destroyed furniture and debris and up the stairs. Soon he reached the now cleaned hallway that housed two room on each side. One of them was the master bedroom while the other one was the bedroom for the children.<p>

"Yes, master." Krin answered with a bow. The crusader, Master Thorn was upright but still had a slouched posture, his wounds haven't been completely healed. "Commander Krin, I am afraid to fathom what would have happened to me and my family if you were not here. You have my gratitude."

"No need, Master Thorn. We've come under the orders of Minion Master Rip, he requests an audience with you." Krin said, taking out a small orb with a soft light glowing within it's blue lattices. "This must be ancient." Thorn said. "I haven't seen these in a long time. Communication orbs, very handy if you weren't properly connected with the general, which you mostly weren't." he took the orb and saw it light up to the touch.

"Ah, master Thorn." Rip's voice was ethereal and seemed to flow back and forth through the orb. " By the great Divine, Rip, you old sod! You still live?"

"Strangely so. I do believe the personal guard of the Immortal is behaving well?" Rip said. Thorn tried to laugh but his entire body hurt to much. "It's a good thing you sent them here. We were in dire straits."

"The assassins are growing bolder by the day. Soon they might even consider attacking one of the higher and more connected families." Rip agreed. "I've noticed you mention the Immortals, Rip. But they have been dead for centuries...I myself saw their deaths with my own eyes." Russell recalled the fall of his lord as vividly like it happened yesterday. The strong pulse of air that knock him flat onto the ground tore Victor Immortal off the ground and into the air. The heavy gray armor that shined twisted around him from the force and soon after, blood seeped out of the many deadly wounds.

"A descendant survived. And now it is time you regained your position as High General, Master Thorn. If my words do not convince you, perhaps your friend will." Russell waited when the orb went silent.

"Russell?" came Carlyle's voice from the orb. Thorn felt great relief when he heard his friend's voice. The kid was still alive and kicking. "Here, Carl. You okay?"

"I should be the one asking you that. Everything is fine. Rip is right, too. Saw the Immortal just now." Carlyle said. His tone was amused when he mentioned the Immortal. Russell had a feeling he would be surprised when he got there with his family. He didn't like surprises.

* * *

><p>Anger, betrayal, Happiness and love. Those are just the few emotions that Rex's music encompassed as he played. With deft moves he ran the bow's ribbon across the strings of the fine instrument. His face changed along with the music as he turned his life into music. Anger flashed in his eyes and cooled into simmering calculation. Highs and lows interspersed and changed with such frequency that matched the hectic life Rex led.<p>

Havoc sat entranced. Rex was tight-lipped about his life before arriving to this world. Havoc understood that Rex didn't know how to really say it. He could feel the hurt Rex felt as he played, their bond vibrated with Rex's ups and downs. Havoc struggled with the need to comfort his lover both physically and mentally.

The end was quiet, monotone and dull. Rex stopped and slowly lowered the instrument onto the grass and he sat back into his chair. His red eyes were clouded, his entire body was stiff. They were in a huge garden underground with a large globe of light that felt like the sun itself. To Havoc all those colourful flowerbeds became dull when he heard Rex play. Their vibrant colour was nothing compared to the shades of his lover's life.

He stood up and walked over to Rex, putting his hand over Rex's own. Rex's eyes became focused and he looked at Havoc, he wasn't aware Havoc was even here. Caught again in his own wallowing, he thought. "That was beautiful, Rex." Havoc whispered and slid into the man's lap and embraced him. Despite the experience they shared yesterday, Rex was still unprepared for the shows of affection from Havoc.

Life truly is a marvel." Rex responded, returning the embrace. He hadn't realized that an unearthy chill went through him and felt cold. Havoc's warmth was welcome and distracting. "How did you find me?" he asked. Havoc leaned back out of the hug and gave him a knowing look. "Like you don't know."

Rex let out a chuckle. Havoc laughed and suddenly both of them were caught laughing until their eyes watered and stomachs ached. During the laughter, Havoc fell out of Rex's lap and they couldn't help it and continued laughing. Their mirth was observed by Rip with Hermione, Carlyle and Russell behind him. Due to the huge growth of hedge and vines, they had a position from where to look but not get spotted. Even if they were out in the open, the two lovers were too distracted to notice them.

"This is a surprise." Russell said, running down his beard with his hand. Carlyle's description didn't do justice to the scene he was now witnessing. A teenager was undignifiyingly sprawled across the grass, clutching his stomach from an emotional outburst. Perhaps the need for restrainment was gone, but Russell was a traditionalist and was having a hard time in admitting that that boy was an Immortal.

A glint of light reached him and it took him to realize that the light from the orb above them was reflected off of the green gems that were the boy's eyes. He spotted them.

Suddenly the boy was upon them with unnatural speed, a small dagger appeared in his hand. The blade was inches away from Russell's eye. "Oh, Rip. Didn't know we had visitors." Havoc growled at his advisor. Rip ignored his master's indignation. "Introducing Master Thorn and Master Elethea, Sire." the Minion Master introduced the two men behind him.

Russell kept a regal posture and presented his hand in a warrior's shake. Havoc gripped the man's forearm and gave a strong tug. The man's copper-red eyes had an amused glint in them and the edge of the man's mouth quirked. "Former High General of the Pristi Empire." Thorn was brief. "Havoc."

Then he turned towards Carlyle and gave a simple handshake. "I'm a friend of Thorn's. Carlyle Elethea, a pleasure." The cobalt eye was intensly focused on Havoc's features as if soaking in every possible detail it could find on his face, it made Havoc feel naked. Carlyle caught himself, "Apologies."

It was a habit, Havoc smiled. "No need."

"I do believe you will be interested in what Master Thorn has to say, Sire." Rip piped in. The group began walking through the garden. Hermione and Rex conversed at the back of the group.

"The _Ritus_ will be held? That will shake up the little bubble the Concil has put up around it." Russell said from his seat at the longtable. This brought memories when he was but a simple soldier who happened to be the best friend of one of the greatest rulers ever known in Pristi history.

"It was long overdue." Carlyle added, he crossed his legs. His missing left forearm was evident to everyone in the room, but he didn't mind.

"How long have you served under...whom of my ancestors?" Havoc was intrigued to actually speak to someone more than a couple of centuries old, and someone who knew his grand grand grandfather.

"Victor was the name. A great man and hell of a leader. Ruled the Empire for four centuries and won every single _Ritus_ until, in the end, nobody dared fight him. He was a juggernaut on the battlefield, sent men, mer, beast and creature alike into the air. Prince of Armageddon they called him." Russell said, an expression of fond reminiscence on his face. "I promised him that I would protect the Immortal line, and I intend to uphold that promise." Russell sat up and walked over to the two thrones where Rex and Havoc sat.

He kneeled before Havoc. "I pledge my allegiance to you, my lord."

Havoc had the impression that he would have to work hard to prove himself to be of Immortal blood to the old man, maybe he still had and Thorn was simply bound by honor and uphold it even if he might not like it.

"Thank you, Lord Thorn. I accept."

* * *

><p>He was tense, and the white apparition with blindingly white eyes wasn't helping in the matter. His foot tapped against the wood floor in anxiousness, awaiting Dumbledore's Patronus to arrive with his reply. A bloody napkin was bundled in his fist.<p>

It was stained by Draco's blood he had to wipe off his forehead when he agreed to the ritual. What he saw sent his mind spiraling into both despair and unbridled rage that was simmering inside him for years, and it was directed at the wrong man all that time.

Snape cursed in his mind, hating himself for being deceived for so long and that he learned something he didn't want to know. He didn't want to know that Lily was killed because of an ancient feud! He didn't want to switch his anger at his oldest friend who seemed to have spared him because he saw light within him.

"We've all been betrayed, uncle." Draco began, his voice ethereal and floated slowly from the confines of his helmet, but to Severus it sounded like Draco spoke into his ear. "I don't know how Dumbledore has betrayed you, but he obviously did and I will make sure he pays."

Severus really wanted to let go of his restraint and storm to Dumbledore and eviscerate the old man. No. Dumbledore wasn't an old man, he was a deceitful monster who was prepared to sacrifice Lily's child to kill Voldemort and then kill him. Snape did indeed care for Potter when he wasn't under the influence of the past.

"I should be reprimanding you for that."

The armor softly cracked as it's joints moved when Draco walked in front of Snape. "True, but we are not in school." the Pristi stopped and looked at Snape's face. It was hard to focus on anything except those bright white eyes. "Dumbledore will get what is coming to him."

Before Severus could reprimand his godson, even if it did little, Dumbledore's Patronus in the shape of a phoenix swooped into the room through the open window Snape's own Patronus trotted out. Draco was already behind the room's door and away from the bird's vision.

"I will be right there." Snape said, hearing Dumbledore's message clearly in his mind. The voice has become one of the most horrible things Snape has ever heard, his anger flared in him and was fighting his own hand from striking the window frame. The ethereal bird looked at Snape for a split second then turned and burst through the window.

"Let's go." Snape ground out, brushing past Draco.

Snape hadn't told Draco anything to where they might be going or why. But he had a feeling that it involved Dumbledore. The fact Snape made Draco go with him told of a possible action against the old bastard? Draco wasn't sure.

The two appeared at an old subway that Draco had no knowledge of. He felt Snape grip on his shoulder tighten into a death-like vice. "Tonight he dies."

With that Snape started forward and went around the tiled corner. Draco pressed against the wall and willed his magic to amplify the sounds coming around the corner.

"So good for you to come in such short notice, Severus." Dumbledore said. He was dressed in his standard star-speckled blue robe and hat. Snape had to admit the man looked much younger then the last time they talked face to face. And that made anger once again flare up in him.

Draco waited, not really hearing what the two men said, his mind was too occupied in coming up with a plan to assassinate the wizard before he could react. Perhaps his speed would be enough? He had to expect spells he couldn't even fathom, but he was a Pristi. Hard to kill something that sucks in magic like a sponge.

With a set mind, Draco sprung around the corner and darted towards the two wizards. Time seemed to slow down, his footsteps sounded like clicking. He passed Snape who was in the motion of turning while Dumbledore seemed to be blind to Draco. Nevermind that, the only thing that mattered is that the man died.

He drew one of the short swords and lunged. He heard the fabric tear, but also metal scraping. From what? Did he hit the belt buckle? He didn't, but then from where was the noise coming from? He looked down and saw the sword lodged not in Dumbledore, but his own abdomen. It tore through the thin plating and the leather beneath it.

Blood poured in slow gushes out of his abdomen. Draco's knees buckled when the pain finally reached him.

"I hadn't expected for you to bring company, Severus." Dumbledore said, the twinkle in his eye was gone and replaced with something Snape couldn't determine. Then his gaze shifted to the prone form of his godson who appeared there in a blurr of motion. Already there a small pool of blood appeared on the dirty tiled floor of the underground subway.

"Bringing Mr. Malfoy here was highly irregular."

* * *

><p>"You were a healer? That seemed a bit odd, with all the hunting going on." Hermione said. "My family has a tradition of having at least one member be a healer. My father was one and I decided I liked doing it too. We are by ourselves natural healers, but my family has the greatest potential." Carlyle thrived on Hermione's curiosity, and was bursting with the need to lay down his entire research because he knew the glint of vast knowledge in the girl's eye. But he restrained himself.<p>

To the right of them Havoc and Rex were discussing the history of the Pristi Empire with Russell and Rip. Rip was silent most of the time, piping in to correct Russell's slightly faulty memory. Suddenly Havoc stood up out of his throne with manic speed. Rex was pummeled with distraught shouts coming from Havoc.

"_Draco! Draco! He is injured! We've gotta save him!" _Rex would've rubbed his brain if he could to relieve the sudden headache. With a sense of urgency that was more of Havoc's than his own, he stood up and excused them both from the conversation, and trying to keep it quiet.

When they got into their room, Havoc was already taking out his suit of armor and Rex followed suit. In a matter of minutes the two were armored and ready to go. Hermione called after them when she saw them head out towards the basin at the far end.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Draco is in trouble, we have to get him out." Havoc tried to keep his tone level but failed miserably. Hermione stared at them before nodding. "Shall I accompany you?" Russell said but it was too late, Havoc and Rex had already dematerialized. Rip snickered and got a glare from the man. "Who is this Draco?"

"A kid his age. That's all I care to say." Rip chuckled again and waddled away.

Havoc cursed as he stumbled out into an alley miles away from Draco's location. He forgot that it took time for the teleporter to reach the destination. Rex appeared beside him, remembering the same thing. "Let's wait for a few seconds."

Havoc couldn't believe how calm Rex was, he didn't show any concern at all, the man was a cold stone. Even the bond was empty of any strong emotion. The seconds passed and both of them lunged into the portal.

In a second they found themselves looking at an old subway panel. Havoc was first to hear speech coming down the stairs that led deeper into the subway. With all stealth and finesse thrown out the window. Havoc stormed through the hall while Rex followed with a slow trot.

Havoc knew it was a good idea in linking them together, even though it was for a much different purpose back then. He screeched to a stop when he reached the location where Draco was. He hadn't expected to see Draco lying in a puddle of his own blood, the white armor streaked with it was disturbing. Snape stood in shock before Havoc.

"Harry, so good to see you." Dumbledore appeared from behind Snape. Both Havoc's and Voldemort's souls roared for the man's blood. The soul-infused blade was in Havoc's hands in a blinding flash of steel. Rex finally reached his reckless lover and stopped when he saw Dumbledore and Draco who was still showing signs of life with feeble struggles.

Dumbledore...why do you have to hurt me? What did I ever do to you?" Rex slid out the heavy claymore and placed it defensively to cover Havoc and him. "You would never understand, Harry." Dumbledore said, his eyes lost their glimmer.

"What is there not to understand?!" Havoc shouted, no longer restraining himself. "It was really easy for you, kill two birds with one stone! If I survived, all the better...you sacrificed my parents for your own personal gain."

"Personal gain? Far from it. You've only seen a piece that is out of context. For the greater good, we are but pieces." Havoc shook with anger, not believing what nonsense the man was spewing about the greater good. The man was insane.

"I've had enough of your madness! It ends today!" Not waiting for Dumbledore to speak, Havoc ran with his sword poised to run through. "I am deeply saddened by your decision, Harry."

"It is not Harry!" Havoc screamed. They were only a meter apart when Havoc found himself running into the tiled wall. The blade sunk into it as if it was made out of butter with a loud thrum as it tore through the concrete. With equal ease, he pulled it out and was about to lunge again when he felt himself be smashed into the wall behind him.

He saw Snape lying on the ground, stunned, and Rex was battling with the same forces he was enduring. Dumbledore had his wand pointed towards him and the other hand towards Rex. Havoc wanted to laugh for the old man's stupidity.

His magic latched onto the strings of magic that poured towards him and started to drain them of their power. The effects were beginning to lessen and Havoc managed to move his sword arm to try and send it flying at Dumbledore. "You have set in motion things that are far beyond our control. When the time comes, you will be the one to decide. I meant to prevent many deaths, now it is impossible. I am truly sorry, Harry. But I did what had to be done."

The force stopped on it's own accord and Havoc rushed at Dumbledore, his thirst for vengeance was too strong to stop. "I have failed." Dumbledore spoke softly when the blade bit into him and through. He only let out a grunt of pain as he was lifted off the ground by a furious Havoc and sent flying onto the tiled floor.

The once powerful Albus Dumbledore lay on the floor, defeated and bleeding. Havoc stood above him, green eyes cold and menacing. "Your sadness is lost on me, old man. There is little I can take as compensation for your actions against my family and kin. Back to the flow." He kneeled beside the old man and cast the spell for burial. The flesh decayed and crumbled into ash, and it spread like a wild fire.

Dumbledore was silent until his entire body was turned to ash and his core dissolved back into the flow of magic. It was a fate he didn't deserve. But he got it.

Havoc felt his eyes burn with unshed tears, something he hadn't expected to exist especially at this time. With a blurred vision, he went over to the deathly still form of Draco Malfoy, a tight ball rose up in his throat. Has Dumbledore managed to take Draco away from him?

He shook his head. It wasn't possible. He fell to his knees into the crimson pool and turned Draco over. Dim white eyes looked at him, they were out of focus and threateningly close to closing. "Don't worry, Draco. I'm here. Everything is going to be fine." Havoc cooed despite himself and letting his tears hit the blood-red armor plates below.

* * *

><p><strong>Was Dumbledore a mad man? Or a misunderstood man? Can be both, really. Depends on what you guys think. Some would be shocked, some would say 'I saw it coming'<strong>

**Now onward to chapter 17 (who will be longer than this).**


	18. The Rite Begins

**Welcome my Reviwers, favorites and alertists! At Long last chapter 18 is out. Lack of inspiration and procrastination has hit me hard for the summer. The war of attrition is getting to me with this story, my writing is becoming stale (or so I think) and am anxious to have a little longer break and renew my juices and start my second book.**

**Thank you everyone who has stuck with me on this, the end is near, but not yet time to say goodbyes!**

**Anyway, without further ado, Chapter 18!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 18<p>

The Rites Begin

"Aye, thanks for getting me to that hospital when you did. They said I was close to death." Zoran kept looking around with scrutiny. "Calm yerself down. As if anyone here would know who ye are. Besides, you guys have been good friends to the goblins and dwarves alike." Jorgen said and muttered something under his breath about wizards and Zoran didn't have the need to ask what.

The pristi and the dwarf have set forth to a isolated community of both goblins and dwarves that may or may not have to do with the enchanted weapons the wizards use against them. Zoran shivered when Havoc seemed to be on the verge of impaling him with his sword when he got the idea of tracing the weapons origin. Zoran knew it was suggested more by his bright friend Hermione Granger, but nevertheless it was a valid idea.

Zoran had expected for the community to be in some far-off place but in fact they are in one that has alot of people going through it, wizards and muggles alike.

Jorgen pointed towards an inconspicuous alley that went unnoticed by everyone. The pair went in and Zoran felt the enchantment on the entrance brush against him. It was a invisibility charm that sheltered a small door made out of poured steel with a slit inside.

The air around it smelled of metal shavings and smoke. Wisps of it came through the borders of the door. Zoran worried something might've happened in there. The dwarf beside him took a deep breath and let out a content sigh.

"Ah...that's more like it!"

He knocked on the door and they waited. After a minute when Zoran felt like they should knock again did the slit open and two black and viscious eyes glared at them. "What do you want." the goblin croaked.

"We be needing information." Jorgen said, glaring back at the goblin. "Tell Uther Jorgen has come a callin' for payback."

The goblin glanced at Zoran before closing the slit and left them to wait for a few more minutes. Jorgen had a small smile on his lips, visible due to his rather small beard.

Finally the door clacked and whirrled. It slowly swung open and let them in. The many wizzing and hissing instruments, gizmos and machines that lined the already cramped cobblestone pathway seemed to be of little interest to Jorgen. Zoran felt like he traveled back in time two centuries and was expecting to see dwarves and goblins dressed in Victorian fashion.

It was not to be. Many goblins wore 20th century suits and shirts along with the dwarves. Either way they seemed to be stuck in time. Zoran could hear clanking and hissing coming from every direction. Above him rails went through the windows of the adjacent buildings and through the alley. There were more open sections where massive machinery of who's purpose couldn't be seen by it's shape.

He had stopped a few times in wonder and Jorgen had to drag him through the maze of machinery and history. They reached the heart of the entire complex, a tall fountain with a wrench and pickaxe on either side rose up. The water was red, green, blue. depending on the direction someone looked at it.

Goblins and dwarves went about their business, some covered in soot and oil from head to toe while others were spotless, an amazing feat with so many machines around. A dwarf with graying hair and a dirty apron waved at them.

"Uther! How ya been?"

Uther gave Jorgen a wry smile. "Good, good. You know, you could've visited once in a while without asking my due."

The two dwarves shook hands and Jorgen introduced Zoran. They left out Zoran's race for until they were safe within Uther's home.

It was an first-floor apartment that looked like Uther rarely used it. Only the bed showed any usage, everywhere else a fine layer of dust had accumulated. Concern set on Jorgen's face.

"Where is Lucy?"

By the reaction visible on Uther's old face, it was a tender topic. Zoran thought that it would be best to not open old wounds, it was obvious Uther was trying to forget about Lucy. He dragged out one of the swords Havoc gave him for the dwarf to inspect.

Relief was palpable when he offered the sword to Uther. "Do you know who makes these swords?"

Wisely the dwarf took the sword by the hilt, aware of the malignant enchantments on the blade. His face scrunched up in both worry and disgust. "Evil stuff on here sword. I've seen such on very few weapons in my life. All of them were from 'demons', I might add."

"Demons?" Both Jorgen and Zoran asked. Uther gave a bit of a shrug. "Ya know. Them queer-looking things that live underground."

"Goblins look queer and live underground." Jorgen deadpanned. "With them horns...I would've said that if you hadn't interrupted. The human Christian Church loved to display the evil bastards back in the day."

"Wait, aren't 'demons' like that fake?" Zoran raised an eyebrow.

"There is always a grain of truth in a lie." Uther wisely said and returned to inspecting the sword. "But this one ain't of that making. This looks like a simple long sword, although I have found an emblem of sorts. I've never seen one like this before."

The emblem was on the hilt, burnt into the leather handle was an insignia of two swords crossed with a roman numeral one in the background. "I would say it was human-made. The metal is all wrong for the enchantment and isn't even made to keep magic inside it. The properties of the magic within it will slowly degrade and become chaotic. One day it will either blow or simply break."

"Made by humans? I guess yer right. Humans only know how to make wands." Jorgen said. Uther placed the sword onto the table and rubbed his hand in which he held it. "But you have no idea who could've made it?" Zoran asked, feeling that they had little to go for.

Uther's brows furrowed in thought, his jaw worked and low grumbling came from his throat. The old dwarf sounded like a grinder. "I know of a goblin that has dealings with some shady humans, steel and the like, just like the sword. He sometimes comes here to sell. I think his name is Fruck? Fruck Nomok, yes thats it."

"Thats all you know?"

"Yep, never talked to him but sometimes I saw him with couple of humans talkin' not far from the communion." Zoran and Uther shook hands. "Who are you looking for, pristi?"

Shock was evident on Zoran's face and his hand slowly slid to his hip where a dagger was hidden. Jorgen stayed his hand. "How did ye know?"

Yet another wry smile on Uther's face. "My grandfather spoke of you lot with high regards and told me a lot about your race. Your reaction tells me my gut is still working properly. But you needn't worry, I won't say a word. But let me give you some advice."

Zoran relaxed his hand out of Jorgen's grasp. "Someone, or something, that put that enchantment on that sword, is malicious and incredibly powerful. Whoever you re going after, do be careful. Jorgen, I suppose you will accompany this lad in his fool-hardy adventure?"

Jorgen chuckled. "Indeed I am, Uther. I owe this man me life and I intend to pay it back."

"Then my words would fall on deaf ears. Take care, Jorgen. I do hope we will see each other again Zoran."

Zoran bowed. "Me as well. Goodbye."

Once again they shook hands and were escorted back to that small iron door. When Jorgen and Zoran were on the other side did Zoran speak. "We can trust him?"

"Of course, we've been friends for a long time. Since childhood really."

"You know, you don't owe me anything."

Jorgen looked at him seriously. "My honor as a dwarf binds me to one day repay you for my life, until that day I shall accompany you to the deepest depths of the world if I have to." Zoran attempted to make the dwarf reconsider but Jorgen wouldn't listen. Zoran sighed and thought about how will they find Fruck Nomok.

Grimauld's Place looked even more grim and dreary than Snape's own estate at Spinner's End. It, however, resembeled the dark mood that had fell upon him. Worry clenched his gut, anger burned his heart, and a piercing headache was coming.

Somebody softly knocked on the door of the bedroom in which Severus had woken after being stunned by Dumbledore. "Severus? You awake?"

It was Remus' voice. Snape had no patience to look at anyone, let alone talk to. Despite himself he answered. "May I come in?" the werewolf was persistent. "I've got breakfast for you." Snape didn't respond.

"I will leave this here on the table. Me and Sirius are downstairs." the floorboards creaked as the werewolf left. Remus had become quite the housewife. It was to be expected how soft-hearted the man really is. And Sirius is filling up the husband who is a major hazard to his own family.

The Potion Master opened the door and took the food inside. A hearty meal of bacon, sausages and eggs. Envisioning Sirius cooking was humoring, and highly unlikely. The bedroom quickly became stuffy and Snape looked for a window.

There was none to be found. It was most certainly Remus' plan to get him out of the room, rather obvious how the werewolf hadn't made much effort to coax him out. In the end, Remus would be more of a bother than the blasted mutt.

He tried to think, and make ends with what had happened back in that subway, but the lack of air was starting to be too much.

Everything around him groaned and creaked. The wood was ancient and looked to be on its last legs. Were it not for its many charms keeping it intact, the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black would be homeless.

Perhaps they deserved such a punishment.

"Sirius, please calm down." said Remus from the lounge. "I will not tolerate how that git is acting! He is lucky that I even agreed to keep him here." Snape stopped beside the door, out of sight.

"Technically you didn't, but that is beside the point. We both know he was supposed to be meeting with Dumbledore. Something happened before we came and we have to know what." Remus retorted mildly. Phump noise came from the lounge.

If it were for Snape, he would've stayed out of sight and eavesdrop. Unfortunately a werewolf's senses were hard to evade. "Want some tea, Severus?" Remus called.

Now Snape had no choice but to reveal himself. Sirius' face was remarkably calm, probably due to the fact that Remus was giving him a glare. The firm face abruptly turned into a warm smile when he turned towards Snape. "Please, please. Sit down and have some tea."

Severus opted for the chair with equal distance from both men. Sirius looked to be barely holding himself in check while Remus had shown a very disturbing side of his, and Snape had no intention of seeing it further.

"As you have already heard, we found you unconscious in the abandoned subway where you were supposed to meet with Dumbledore. We are guilty of meaning to eavesdrop your meeting, but instead we found you unconscious with two puddles of blood and signs of struggle. I hope you would be able to shed some light on what happened." Remus poured tea into the cup in front of Snape.

"I was unconscious before anything happened. Have you managed to contact Dumbledore?" his skills in lying are superb, few could see through his words. He could also only hope that Potter managed to save Draco, the amount of blood was intimidating.

"I had the blood sent to Pompfrey to check of who it was. She said that one of Draco Malfoy and the other Albus Dumbledore. The biggest one was from Malfoy. It is easy to believe that the young Malfoy had died of blood loss. Dumbledore on the other hand still might be alive."

Both Snape and Remus sipped at their tea while Sirius glared the other way. "We've tried with every mean possible to contact him. What doesen't bode well is that neither mine or Sirius' Patronus has managed to track him down. As I said, Dumbledore has very good chances of still being alive, but this confirms otherwise."

A silence fell. All three men were slowly becoming aware that if Dumbledore had indeed been killed, the future of England and potentially the entire world is draped in shadow.

* * *

><p>"Has anyone seen Carlyle?" Russell trotted down the long hall and one of Vigil's eyes floated to meet him. "He has used the portal a few hours ago, Master Thorn. Unfortunately he had teleported inside London and am unable to track him." Russell's fists clenched. He very well knew where his friend had gone, it was only a matter of time when he would start questioning.<p>

"Perhaps it's the best..." he muttered to himself. "Go after him." came the order from behind him. He turned to face his lord, to whom he had sworn an oath of service and loyalty. It was the least he could do to honor the pact between the Immortals and the Alvin dynasty.

"Is it an order?" even thought it was pointless to ask, the teen's tone was very much commanding. "Indeed it is, Mr. Thorn. He is endangering everyone of us here if he were caught by our enemies. Bring him here alive, if not, kill him."

"As you wish." the old general bowed, and left to prepare for departure. "Be well, Carlyle."

Havoc just left his private chambers and headed straight for the bedroom where Draco was recovering. Luckily the renegade healer first stabilized Malfoy before escaping. Beside the bed Hermione sat, ancient tomes levitated around her open. She was startled when Havoc suddenly appeared in her field of view, and the books dropped to the floor.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack..." she composed herself and picked up the books, inspecting each one for any damage. "Sorry. How is he doing?"

Hermione looked at Draco. "Carlyle said he should be fine if looked after. He even taught me how to help Malfoy if something goes wrong."

"Good. I need to go prepare for the tournament. At the last meeting they said it will begin tomorrow morning and today are the celebrations. You should pack up too, we leave in a couple of hours." Havoc said and was about to leave when Hermione caught his hand.

"Something is troubling you." she said matter-of-factly. " I recognize that look on your face anywhere."

She pulled a chair and Havoc sat in it, all the while rubbing her friend's hand. Harry was sitting in front of her, the same troubled boy she has known for five years. Harry may have changed his name, to escape from the bondage set upon him, but he was still in heart and soul the same. No longer is he restrained by the narrow-minded wizards and witches.

Hermione blamed herself for not noticing how the people raised him to something he truly wasn't, and were quick to turn him into a victim without a moments notice. It was all their fault for letting Harry get hurt so badly.

"I didn't tell you everything yesterday, when Draco got hurt. Snape and Dumbledore were there, too. I just lost it...Dumbledore had me against the wall, told me he was sorry, but that he did what had to be done. I thought he finally went mental." Havoc's eyes intently focused on something on the floor.

"What makes you think he wasn't?" Hermione asked. "He said he tried to stop something by killing me. Because I survived, it will happen. And...he let me run him through..."

"He is dead? You killed him?" Hermione's voice shook. It was not everyday that you hear your Headmaster was killed. Be it as it may that Dumbledore had used Havoc, they did have something akin to a father-son relationship.

"He didn't say anything. He didn't even get angry...as if he resigned himself to die." was I wrong, Havoc finished inside. "We've never truly known Dumbledore to understand his actions. You were the closest to him. But I think that you should go pack, I have little clothing so I will pack at the last minute." Hermione brushed Havoc's cheek.

They both gave sorry smiles. "I will take you shopping one day. We should also tell your parents that you are okay."

"Thanks. I've already mailed them, but a visit would be great."

Only when Havoc left the room did Hermione let a tear fall.

"I am still baffled why he still lets you into his life." suddenly Draco spoke. Hermione furiously rubbed her eye to ward off anymore tears before turning to face her charge.

"I realize that." she tersely said. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel like my entire abdomen is gone. What did you do to me?"

"If you weren't numb, then you would be in major pain, so I suggest you deal with it for the time being."

"It's your own fault, you know. Along with that weasel. But I've never heard the whole story, what really happened?" Hermione sighed. "Havoc only had me and Ronm we stuck together through thick and thin. With Voldemort attacking every year, threatening everyone around him, he was going down real fast. When Cedric died, and when the entire wizarding world mocked him for saying Voldemort is back...it was only a matter of time really."

"You and Weasley started dating then. And Potter fell into a depression soon after." it dawned on Draco and he fumed inside. "You let him jump?" he grounded out and tried to lift himself into a sitting position but was unable.

"We told Dumbledore, but he did nothing. There was little we could do, Malfoy." Hermione retorted defensively, sitting up and carrying the books close to her chest to a bookshelf at the back of the room. "Besides, your weak attempts to get something out of Harry back then, hadn't helped the matters."

. . . .

The inhabitants of the Crucible converged in the long hall of the treasury. In Havoc's hands was a silver disc that has several knobs sticking out on it's sides. "This will transport us to the Alps, everyone hold on one of the knobs."

There were knobs a plenty for everyone to hold onto. Krin and his troupe latched on aswell. Hermione brought Draco in a wheelchair despite the blonde's protests and took hold on the disc. Finally everyone who was going held their respective knobs.

"May the gods favour you, Sire." Rip gave a wave.

Havoc nodded and ordered the disc to do it's thing. Everyone that held onto the disc felt their bodies disappear and become one with everything and everyone. Their thoughts flowed in and out in a fraction of a second when their bodies were their own again. A chill wind cut across everyone's faces that hadn't covered them properly.

Hermione cast a warming spell on herself and Draco. The minions wore their regular black armor with an addition of thick fur insulation. Havoc and Rex on the other hand were safe within their respective suits of armor.

All of a sudden someone passed beside Havoc and wrenched the disc from his hand. "Yes, yes. I will be taking that, thank you." dressed in a thick coat and boots, the small figure stopped and typed on the disc with his back turned to the group.

"Blasted Alps. Blasted cold." he muttered. Havoc walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. "What?" the little man turned and snapped. His vision was then filled with a gray-green helmet, darkness and two dots of burning green. "And who might you be?"

"Umm...Connor Gotfried's t-the name." those two eyes glared at him. At one point Connor actually thought they were burning. Havoc let the man out of his grip and the man fell onto his bottom in the thick snow.

"Excuse me for my brashness, my lord. But these discs are very fragile and we only have a set amount of them." the man was unusually fast. "Now if you will excuse me, I have to be somewhere."

Despite the man's size, the group felt like a tornado passed by. Someone coughed to get their attention.

It's sex was undistinguishable. The armor is black with orange stripes down the chest and calves. It looked like to be made out of carbon-fibre plates along with metal-laced kevlar. The glass front of the helmet was tinged black and hid the wearer's identity. The entire armor softly hummed with internal machinery.

"Please, follow me."

The group followed the soldier to a large encampment surrounded by ancient and crumbling walls. Many tall, colourful tents rose and cobblestone pathways snaked through the tight corridors. Braziers with enchanted flames stood at every corner. People in modern winter clothing went by, interspersed with the soldiers wearing the same armor they are following, the only difference being flags of their nations and heraldic colours to show their lineage.

Many of the soldiers stuck to themselves in tight little groups, conversing over the warm fire of the braziers. The soldier they were following led them through the hustle and bustle of the encampment and towards a orange-black striped tent. The group got many stares, mainly because of the minions.

The interior seemed to be far larger than it physically should be, and to belong to a modernized castle. Servants went about their business and made sure to stay clear of the soldier's path that bee-lined to the next room which seemed to be a battle-room.

Around the round table littered with maps of the Alps stood Louise in full armor that is much more colourful and rustic than her soldier's, The shaggy norwegian and austrian, both in their own colourful and diverse armors.

"My Lady." the soldier bowed and left the room. Louise raised her gaze from the maps. "It is most fortunate that you have arrived early. You will see our first demonstration of power by bashing in some giant skulls."

"It's been ages since I did battle with a Jotun." the norwegian seemed to be happily regaling past duels with the massive creatures. "Melee?" Adair sounded appalled, " I would rather kill them from the distance, saves me from the smell."he scoffed, shouldering a 50. cal sniper rifle.

"Hmm, you all want to come?" Louise asked the group. No one said no. She nodded and continued outside the tent and they were soon on a long expanse of white surrounded by mountain peaks. Out in the distance there were several dots that had tendrils of smoke rising from them, and a small black mass off to the side that is becoming steadily larger.

"About time they got along long enough to decide to visit us." Adair blandly said, looking at the approaching mass through his scope. "How many do you count?" the norwegian asked, his hands eagerly held a heavy battle-ax.

"About ten, Jarl Riotar." Adair responded. "reinforcements, perhaps?"

Louise nodded and pressed a small switch on her neck-defender. She said something in german, got a response and nodded again. "Got two squads of snipers on the towers covering us. Should be enough."

"I think it would be best that me and Malfoy went a little further back." Hermione said and dragged Draco off in his wheelchair, who looked relieved, although still concerned about Havoc.

"This your first time, young Immortal?" Riotar asked, his face was positively livid. "Not really, I beat a troll when I was eleven." Riotar whooped at that. "I killed a god, how hard could this be?" Rex grumbled.

"A god? How is that possible?" Havoc asked, being surprised for Rex saying something so ridiculous. "If there are separate dimensions, what are the chances of a god-like being existing?" Rex countered. Havoc shrugged, not fancying himself a scientist in physics.

The ground shook as the now visible giants trod across the snowy plane towards them. Necklaces of skulls hanged round their necks, big clubs in their hands could crush anyone with a single swing. Twenty feet tall, they cast a large shadow in the weak midday sun.

Even being twenty meters away from the group of pristi, their stench traveled and Havoc almost gagged. Adair put on his helmet that hissed, expelling the odor.

"Who...are...you?" the first one, who leads the giant group asked in butchered english.

"We are Pristi!" Louise announced with authority. "Lords and masters of the first world, once again we hold our Ritus Regulae on this sacred ground. We request you to not interfere."

Louise's words turned out to be far too complex for the giant to understand, but he tried to puzzle out what he had just heard but in the end he became angry. "Stupid humans! Smash!" he bellowed and raised his club.

Adair kneeled and quickly popped a shot in the giant's forehead. The giant's behind him were sprayed with blood of their leader and stood in confusion how their leader was slain so quickly. Unfortunately, they still thought that they stood a chance and started toward the five Pristi and the minions.

Rex and Havoc sped to the side with the minions right behind them while Adair, Riotar and Louise went to the right, evading the massive stampede of giants. Even with their hulking size, the large humanoids were agile enough to turn and split to chase either flank.

Shots thundered from the encampment and two giants fell flat onto the ground, their foreheads blown apart by massive ammunition. Riotar roared and charged into the remaining two that headed their way.

Rex and Havoc unsheathed their swords and used their speed to circle around the giants. Krin ordered the minions to climb onto the backs of the distracted giants. One giant had his brain blown apart by Adair across the field. Havoc cut through one of the giant's ankles and let it fall like a felled tree.

Rex had jumped and slammed his claymore down to the shaft into his opponent's chest and fell along with him to the ground. Riotar off to the side hacked at his giant, all the while laughing. Louise, on the other hand, utilized her assault rifle, sending short bursts into the critical points such as Achilles heel and throat. Flesh flew as the rounds seemed to explode inside.

The utter massacre was done in a minute. The people in the encampment only managed to see the end of the brutal conflict. The virgin snow was now tainted with giant's blood and will do so for quite some time.

The entire camp cheered in their own medivalish-yet-restrained way. Jarl Riotar had a hell of a time retelling his many conflicts with the giants he constantly calls Jotun, even though Adair had corrected him a hundred times over. The rest of the council had arrived in the evening and were celebrating, though some of them reluctantly.

Many soldiers and normal folk that iss there for the tournament assailed Havoc when he decided to not wear his armor to the celebrations. Louise watched in amusement as Rex tried to preserve some remaining space that Havoc had left. Brand glared from his spot at the long table, utterly silent and seething.

Draco constantly had to tell people that he isn't disabled and was recovering, but his efforts were in vain. Hermione and Havoc had great laughs at his anguish.

Ale and wine spread around and Havoc managed to steal a goblet and sipped it from his safe haven of a hidden alcove in the tent. Rex easily found him and joined in on the wine and much more exquisite pleasures.

Their tongues wrapped around each other, sending sparks in their mouths. Rex savored the delightful textures his lover's tongue and mouth have, and found himself erect. Havoc pressed himself onto Rex, struggling not to tear his or Rex's clothes off. They snogged for several minutes and stopped when they felt their desires would get the best of them.

It wasn't mutual. Havoc stopped but Rex wanted. "You really are a pervert." Havoc teasingly said. "Oi! Young Immortal! You in here?" it was Riotar, and he opened the curtains where Rex and Havoc holed up. "So you swing that way, eh. But nevermind that, you gotta go see the old hag."

"Old hag!? You call my grand mother a hag?" Adair appeared and was not impressed when he saw Rex and Havoc in such a compromising position. Riotar looked at the pewish austrian. "Well of course she's an old hag! I mean look at 'er! Anyway, let's go kid."

"No. I will lead him there, and you barbarian stay here and talk about your Jotuns." Havoc clambered off Rex and followed Adair who was muttering to himself. He was led outside to a much smaller tent off to the side.

"Be respectful." the faux elf said and raised the tent flap to let Havoc in. Unlike most tents in the encampment, this one is a normal tent with one of those enchanted braziers in the middle. Behind it sits an olderly woman who seemed to be on the verge of death.

"Please, sit, child." her frail voice was so low that Havoc at first doubted she said anything, but still did what he heard. "And you are the heir of the Immortals, yes? Tell me your name."

"Havoc."

The old woman shook her head. "Your true name, child."

"But that is my name." Havoc frowned. He had rejected his past life as Harry Potter and has no intention of going back.

"Perhaps you are still far too young. As tradition goes, every contestant in the rite must have their omens read by the Matron. Give me your hand." she outstretched her withered hand from within her robe that covered her form.

Havoc gave her his hand, expecting her to read his palm like those gypsies or Trelawney back in the Astronomy Tower. The second his hand fell into the woman's, he felt the tendrils of energy latch onto him in a vice grip.

At first he panicked, believing that the woman would try to drain him, but it went on for too long for the woman to be attempting anything as such. BY the features on the woman's face Havoc could see, she looked indifferent.

"The Immortal line flows strong through you. Your blood gives you immense power. Sadly, my old eyes will not be able to see your inheritance, Harry Potter." Havoc felt his body flare up at the mention of his former name and tried to move his hand but the woman's grip was too strong. She pulled him closer and gripped his face with her other hand.

"Your name gives you purpose, purpose gives power, and power means life. I see many dark omens in your future, Mr. Potter. Ash and brimstone from the west, lives that had been lost return. Inside you beats life anew, both for you, and for the world."

She let go of him and he stumbled back. "It is your choice! Give birth to the world, or abandon it to the chaos!"

Adair rushed into the tent and looked around, both shocked and afraid. His fell on Havoc and quickly dragged him out of the tent. "What did you say?" the austrian hissed.

"I didn't say anything." Havoc retorted angrily, slapping away the man's hand. "If you didn't...oh my."

"What?"

"She...she only reacted like that with Victor." Adair twirled a lock of his hair before setting off somewhere, leaving Havoc alone with two confused soldiers.

"So, what's got you all hooked up on that little vixen? To be quite honest, if I didn't know better, I would say he's a girl." Riotar chuckled as he took one of the goblets off a table and passed it to Rex.

"Have you ever felt that terror when in that moment you realize you will never see your wife and children. I was physically unable to reach them, talk to them. All I could od is watch them grow old, have families while I remained the same in my prison for years." Rex stared in the swishing yellow of the wine.

Riotar frowned, he himself had never faced such tribulations. "How old are you?"

"I lost count, a hundred? A thousand? I should have died ages ago, but instead I remained in my forsaken throne alone."

Riotar had met many strange men in his long life of five centuries, but this one took the cake. There was something about the man that didn't add up, his manners. Riotar himself was old fashioned but he did get on with the times.

"How about another drink?" he suggested and took a pitcher of ale to pour in Rex's glass. The depressed man welcomed the warmth of alcohol, although it was a negligible source when he had already felt his lover.

Both of the men's goblets flew out of their hands when Adair stormed into the closed alcove, his face was worrisome. "Get over here, drunkard. We are having a emergency meeting." and with that the faux elf left. Riotar took a few moments to regain himself and followed.

"Sorry, I have to go see that. Say, what's your name?" Riotar stopped at the exit. "The name's Rex."

"King, eh. Well, I do wish you well." as the norwegian left, Havoc entered, looking at Riotar's back. "What's going on?"

"They've got some emergency meeting." Rex answered, leaning into the couch. Havoc sat into his lap and put his head in crook of Rex's neck. "I wasn't asking about them. What got you so sad? Were you thinking about the past again?"

"Indeed I have, I never learn."

The celebrations went long into the night, as did Havoc and Rex in their own personal tent.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18 everyone! The end is a bit lame, but what can you do? So how do you guys like Adair, Riotar and Louise? You will be seeing them a lot in the next chapters and the second book.<strong>

**As always, thanks for reading and review!**


	19. On The Sands

**Welcome Readers, alerstists, favorites and reviwers! To Chapter 18 of the Domination Anew saga that now spans the size of a whole novel. I am so happy to see it had reached this point, makes me feel accomplished.**

**As the work on this first book keeps grinding in a painful pace, ideas for the second are constantly getting in the way and making me eager to get to work. Two chapters and the epilogue are left, there isn't enough to fit into four more.**

**As always! Enjoy and R&R! Taa Taa!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 18<p>

On The Sands

The yesterday's festivities had left the entire encampment in a groggy stupor and it was already ten o'clock when the first woke up.

Draco had insisted on walking by himself. Hermione indulged him but still followed closely when they sat down to eat along with Havoc and Rex in their shared tent. Krin and his troupe had left for the massive tent in the center of the camp to eat along with the rest of the camp.

"Are you sure you can walk on your own?" Havoc asked with skepticism. Draco scoffed and Hermione looked at him briefly before starting to eat her breakfast.

For some reason there was much more commotion going outside their tent and Havoc was wondering what could be the cause. He stood up and glanced through a gap between the tent wall and flap. A menagerie of races went back and forth; dwarves, pixies, elves, and even some he hadn't seen in his entire life.

Through the bustling crowd came one of the soldiers, this time red and white stripes down his chest and calves along with smaller blue stripes interspersed on the armor. The only difference was that there was no national flag on the breast.

By the looks of it the soldier was heading their way.

Seconds later came a knock, which was rather strange since the 'door' was a normal cloth flap. Rex softly pushed Havoc away and he himself opened the flap. "Sire Immortal?" came the resounding question.

When Havoc could have a closer look of the soldier, he was indeed more intimidating than from afar.

"That would be me. What is it?"

"By default you have personal levy, unfortunately only a small platoon has remained in your service. And I'm the highest ranking."

"Levys?" Havoc never really heard of that expression. "Levys were the amounts of one lord's army in the medieval ages. Seems like you have retained some of your ancestor when he ruled, Havoc." Hermione explained.

"We were a militia back in Victor's day, your ancestor, but we vowed to uphold our oath of fealty to our lord. Many had deserted over the centuries, but we remained, the Sentinels."

In mere moments the expansive tent was filled with soldiers coming out of teleportation, all of them looking the same and kneeling. Havoc could only groan, feeling that he was amassing too much in too short a time span. Soon he would be so encumbered by everything that he wouldn't even know what to do.

"Perhaps I should take leadership of this force?" Rex asked, lowering himself to Havoc's ear so only he could hear. "Yeah, sure, whatever. What do you think about marriage?"

Havoc sometimes hated how Rex could easily spot his discomfort and intrude upon it, so he decided to make Rex uncomfortable in return. "I have no qualms about that topic. Although I do think it would be prudent to hold the wedding after the rite." Rex answered with an amused tone.

"militia? In Pristi military? You were actually peasants?" Draco asked. The soldier at the entrance nodded. "Yes, every empire needs a working class and we accepted that duty. Unlike the muggles, we lived happy lives, but I do believe this is not the time to discuss such matters. We've come here to meet our liege and will be going now until you call upon us again." he took out a glass orb and handed it to Havoc. "You can contact us with this."

The soldier stepped away and vanished along with the rest of his platoon.

"They are a really silent bunch." Hermione said. Everyone agreed and Rex spent most of his breakfast inspecting the orb Havoc had haphazardly tossed in his hands. "You really shouldn't be disrespectful of them, Havoc. We do not know who they are and should be careful."

When they finished their breakfast, the group ventured outside. Hermione and Draco were confused how there were far more races than they could count in the camp. Many of them glanced at them in curiosity, obviously aware that Havoc was of the Immortal bloodline.

Two large cohorts surrounded them, on one side were elves with alabaster hair and on the other lizards that walked on two legs, dressed in heavy armor made out of, what Havoc presumed, were their own scales.

"You have ssstirred the balance of the world, young one." the most lavishly addorned and painted lizardman hissed. "And the balance of power has shifted." said an elf.

It was morning and already was there a headache steadily growing. Had Rex not intervened, the two groups would have been swept away by the power Rex could feel rise in Havoc. "It is early in the morning, the tournament is a pressing matter and we just don't have time for more diversions."

Both of the cohorts nodded. "Our apologiesss, young one. The rite is indeed a great event for all our kind and we were anxiouss to see the Immortal. May you go with the Flow." the lizardmen then walked away in their own direction.

Havoc remembered when Rip said that anyone and anything can be the Overlord. So the Pristi race wasn't just restricted to human-like but to every single life form on earth. Were it not for the headache, Havoc would be much happier with the revelation.

"Yes, the Kota clan is right. We should leave you until the tournament is over. May you go with the Flow."

Rex shook his head. "By the looks of things, you are the single-most known person in this world. Don't know if I could stand that kind of attention."

"Yeah, lucky you."

"Sir Havoc." Louise's voice came from Havoc's pocket. Havoc took out the stone Louise gave him. The headache was getting worse. "What?"

"You are required to go get your equipment checked by our armorer. She is in the red and yellow tent on the south side of the encampment."

Havoc sighed. Rex looked at Draco and Hermione. "Perhaps you two would like to look around? There were shops and stands and the like."

"What do you think Draco?" Hermione asked, still eyeing Draco carefully. "Yeah, sure."

They split up and headed their own way. Havoc said they would summon his equipment when they got there. The encampment seemed to have become larger, the former central plaza was now large as a forum with a lot more stands and colourful tents.

"Your world is very impressive. One race united despite their large differences and species. A commendable effort." Rex said.

"My world? It's as much as mine as it's yours. You belong here now, Rex and nothing will change it."

"Oh, but you are my world."

Havoc both groaned and blushed, and Rex chuckled. He ruffled Havoc's shoulder-length hair. "I will never tire of your crimson cheeks."

"Which ones?" Havoc retorted and this time Rex blushed.

There are a lot of tents that are red and yellow, but the one they needed was like a sore thumb in the crowd with it's chimney and anvil signs.

The inside was also far larger than the outside and filled with racks, strange machinery and all sorts of things a working smith would need. The smith, a woman by the name of Daria, greeted them.

"'ello, what brings you to my smithy? Well, it's not actually a proper smithy, being that I work mostly with nano fiber and such, gotta go with the times, but sometimes people like to go old school and use ol' fashioned steel."

"Louise told me to get my equipment checked up on by you." Havoc said, snapping his fingers and his entire armor and weapon materialized on the table between them. At first Daria wasn't much impressed with the armor but then she seemed to have realized something.

"This...this is minion-infused? Like actually used minions during the casting process? This is the first time in four centuries that a minion-infused equipment that is brand new. Was it made by minions?" she spoke in frightful, yet excited voice.

"Yes, it is."

"Steel that had been infused with minion life force is one of the most powerful alloys ever known, resistant to heat and cold. Though it works like any other metal, it is incredibly durable and hard to penetrate, nano fiber is barely second in this."

She then gingerly put the pieces of the armor down. "So, you are the Overlord, huh? Only them have had minions after the Great Hunt." the wicked sword was next.

"This used to be a zwei-hander, at least the version mostly carried by the Overlords in history but was broken by something." Daria inspected the sword when she dropped it in surprise. She looked at it like she saw a ghost.

"Okay...wow. You certainly are a bag of tricks, sir. Could've told me you got some wicked things up in that sword. Weapons with souls inside are incredibly rare and have qualities that depend on the soul in question. It was a good thing I didn't touch the edge or I could wave my hand goodbye." she glanced at Havoc in annoyance.

"Seeing that everyone in the tournament will have their own weird assortment of weapons and armor, your equipment checks out. Though I hope you keep the sword under control. They can be very troublesome."

Havoc smirked, Voldemort could only hope in gaining control over blade. He sent away the armor and sword back to his tent and left with Rex following. "The opening ceremony starts at noon and now is ten o'clock so we have an hour left to do something." Rex reminded.

"Maybe we could find an apothecary? This headache is getting worse."

Rex hadn't said anything so Havoc took it as a yes and they went in search of any medicinal shop. They passed the tent Havoc remembered from yesterday for it to be of the Matron. She didn't necessarily annoy him, but like worried him. He hadn't even thought of what he had heard yesterday, and how Adair said that it was similar to when his ancestor, Victor, had his omens read.

Ash and brimstone from the west, giving birth to the world. Havoc couldn't place those things in any context that would prove logical. But even so they gave his gut an ominous feeling he would rather go without. Something was missing in his current knowledge that he would at least crack the first part.

Perhaps Voldemort would have something smart to add?

"He was a potent wizard, he might know something." Rex added. "And you knew of the omens how?"

"You are an open book in bed, my love. Anyway you were having trouble sleeping so I went to check on what was bothering you."

Havoc was used to having Rex in his mind most of the time, but he didn't know what to feel about rex going into his mind while asleep or during sex. "Keep away from my thoughts when I'm asleep." Havoc snapped and Rex gave an apologetic bow. "As you wish."

"Damn right it is."

In half an hour Havoc and Rex found a herbalist that wasn't shady and gave Havoc a simple salve that would ease up the headache. Unfortunately the salve came with it's own set of problems such as itching.

Havoc was about to return to the herbalist and dip him in all sorts of salves so he would be itching for weeks but Rex promptly stopped him. "Such actions are not befit a ruler."

"Who said I was going to be one?"

"Then what are we doing here, then?"

Havoc stopped and simmered down. Rex was again starting to annoy him, and the itching wasn't helping.

Louise's voice announced through the entire encampment that the ceremony would begin in half hour, and the people started to move in one direction. Havoc and Rex hurried back to their tent where Draco, Hermione and Krin with his troupe were waiting.

Krin approached Havoc and bowed. "Sire. During our meal and patrol of the camp, we've discovered something rather unusual."

"Of what importance?"

"Vital, Sire."

Havoc waved for the minion to go ahead, at least the headache was gone. "It pertains to the omens of Sire Havoc. Many leaders of the strong dynasties have argued were it prudent to let the rite continue."

"But the ceremony is in half an hour, they can't just stop it now, can they?" Draco said.

"Wait, what omens?"

"Ash and brimstone would come from the west, lives that had been lost return, inside me beats life anew for me and the world. It's my choice to give birth to the world or let it fall to the chaos." Havoc repeated, and only now did he realize that those words were permanently etched into his mind.

The more he pondered them, the more resounding they became. Their meaning still eluded him, though. Hermione's face showed she was thinking hard about it.

"I will need to do more research. Heard there was a librarian here, too. So I might go see there."

"Draco, what about you? You've been silent."

Draco lounged in his seat. "Well, with my wound and all I'm not much use. I think it would be best that I go back to the Crucible, see if your knight caught that healer."

"Good idea. Want to go now or?" Havoc felt that Draco was becoming rather annoyed with being useless. Sending him back to the Crucible would be far beneficial, and let the blonde keep away from the source that brings him pain.

At some times Havoc thought about letting Draco go, out of the cause and somehow make Draco not love him, or even hate him. He had no feelings for the blonde except some strange form of platonic love that is bordering on utter hostility.

"Better now, you need to go soon. I'll have Krin escort me. See you, Granger. Havoc, Rex."

Krin ordered a couple of his minions to escort Draco and they disappeared in the crowd. "Also, they've mentioned something of America waking up, though for what I know is that America has zero Pristi population."

"No Pristi? How come?" All of them were baffled as to how an entire continent could be absent of such a spread out race. "For some reason every Pristi that went there didn't come back. Even a whole colony had disappeared in sixteenth century. The Pristi Empire four centuries ago attempted to see what was happening over there but nobody came back."

What Krin was saying was harrowing. Whatever was in America obviously didn't like Pristi that much since muggles and wizards can come and go. "Some have speculated that it is forbidden for Pristi to go there and some say that there is no flow of magic in those lands. But their conversation was not over, they mentioned your old adversary, Albus Dumbledore, saying he was trying to stop something and that they might have been wrong for not helping him."

Havoc's eyes went wide while Rex grumbled something to himself. "They were in contact with Dumbledore..." hands on Havoc's sides balled up into fists. Rex looked at him worryingly. "What are you going to do, Havoc."

When Havoc heard Rex say that his entire rage evaporated. Giving in to his emotions would only be detrimental to his own cause and plans. He locked eyes with Rex and answered. "I will win the tournament."

Surprise lit up Rex's face and it was quickly replaced with both amusement and pride. Havoc went off to dress in his armor and was soon walking down the paved streets of the encampment to the large crumbling coliseum that hadn't been there the previous day.

Now everyone looked as he passed and made way from him. With his hand lazily lounging on his sword's hilt and swagger, Havoc was the epitome of confidence. Many of bystanders whispered "That is the Immortal?"

Some even asked if he was a girl or a man.

The soldiers let him in and led him down a special path that lead down into the gladiator chambers. Inside sat twenty or so people and only one lizardman whom Havoc remembers to be the leader of the cohort, but this time wearing much heavier armor.

Riotar's hand felt like a landslide when it fell on Havoc's shoulder. "Ready for battle?"

Riotar's enthusiasm was rather off-putting for Havoc and it took him to respond. "A bit, yes."

"A bit? This might be the greatest fight of your life, and you are a bit ready? Boy...kids these days."

"Few people can match your enthusiasm for combat, Jarl Riotar." hissed the lizardman from his perch. He held a grinding stone and went up and down the blade of his hunting spear. Riotar shrugged and went back to his stool, continuing to huff and puff on his pipe.

Havoc and the lizardman were the sore thumbs in the entire group, all of the other were wearing the nano fiber armor although some of them had some additions added, and some even wore heavy versions. Brand glared at Havoc with intense fury that made his eyes glow blue in the dark gladiator hall.

An old trumpet boomed through the hall and Riotar jumped to his feet with passion of a berserker. "How I fondly remember the sound! The call to battle!"

Havoc saw Adair and the others roll their eyes as they put on their helmets. Bright light burst from the ceiling and revealed that the floor was actually a platform that was to be raised along with the combatants.

"Glory in battle is not all." Adair whispered to himself.

The coliseum looked the same like the one in Rome, as if somebody copied it and put it here. The circular banisters were full of people who were unusually silent. Havoc and the other contestants were facing a tall stone platform where a woman with fair hair stood up and stepped in front of a lectern.

"On this day, we have all gathered to bear witness to our most sacred tradition," her voice resonated throughout the entire building. "Ritus Regulae has been held since the dawn of time. When the mountains were small and the seas were greater. It is this rite that had kept us strong and united under one banner." she stopped to let it sink in, many of the today's spectators were first timers and never had the experience.

"For four centuries we have been prosecuted, the Great Hunt was one of the most devastating events that had ever happened to our race along with the fall of Emperor Victor the Immortal. Since then we have been fragments of fragments, hunted down like animals by our children we gave birth to four millenia ago." again the woman stopped. She was giving a history lesson, but it was important for the people so they could understand the gravity the rite holds.

"Today the most powerful of our kind will do battle as their ancestors did to prove who is worthy of ruling. The right to rule and bring forth rise of the race that had seen mountains ise and fall, civilizations burn and prevented it's own extinction. We were the first, we saw the dawn of this world, and we will see it's dusk!"

The coliseum roared with applause and cheering that it was absolutely deafening. Havoc had to cast a muffling spell to prevent going deaf and made a list of improvements and enchantments Rip would have to add to his armor.

It went on for what seemed to be an eternity when they finally lowered down, probably from their hands being too hurt to continue and their voices going hoarse. "Twenty-two contestants will be competing in the next month."

The woman listed the twenty-two countries; Japan was Atsuko, China Bao rui Kong... At some point Havoc stopped listening until he was saved for the end.

"England. Harry Potter, heir to the Immortal bloodline." Havoc growled inside his helmet at the woman for using his former name but stepped forward nonetheless and bowed as all of the other did before him.

There were cheers coming from a select group to the side. It was Rex along with Hermione, Krin with his troupe and about thirty people wearing nano fiber armor. Those were the Sentinels from before. The rest didn't know Havoc well enough to cheer and support him.

"These are the matches and roster, the first match will begin in an hour."

And everything was over for the next hour. Havoc looked around, hoping for something to happen next but nothing did. "This is it?"

"What a disappointment!" Riotar roared, "That was it? We are talking about the future ruler over here!"

Adair walked over and whacked Riotar on the top of the head with his fist. "What did you expect? We are a civilized people with traditions that make rock bands and fireworks seem out of place."

Dejectedly Riotar looked at the noon sun, Havoc sensed a deep feeling of betrayal in the norwegian jarl. The platform lowered them back into the dark halls. Havoc approached the man, becoming rather fond of him even though he had only met him yesterday. "How was it back in your day?"

Riotar perked up at Havoc's question. He removed his helmet and revealed an old man with a big toothy grin that was so much like Sirius'. "1720 was the year, the last Ritus. Of course Victor was the favorite, being a ruler for a couple of centuries and doin' it well, but who wouldn't want to take a chance at glory? performers of all kinds, spectacles of duels. It was astounding to see a whole world converge for this one event every ten years. Back then people knew the true purpose of the Ritus Regulae, yes it is to appoint a ruler, but it was also made to differentiate us from the rest." Riotar started for his stool and sat down.

"Our race was spread all over the world in every shape and form. Elf, dwarf, human...anything. It was the rite, our armor and the service of the world that we have long since lost, that power came in form of minions, our most loyal servants and companions." sadness creeped into his tone. "Ever since the Great Hunt did our servants abandon us, a once proud race was reduced to shambles. Was it our hubris? Nobody can say it did or didn't. We've never went against the Flow or the world."

"The Flow..." Havoc murmured to himself. He himself had mentioned it once when he killed Dumbledore, but he never understood it properly. "What is the Flow? I presume the flow of magic?"

"Yeah, the flow of magic that has been there ever since we have existed. It's what keeps us Pristi living and breathing, being that we depend on it as much as we depend on air. One would say the wizards would be one step forward, but in my opinion that is a step down. Cutting oneself out of the flow is killing yourself, a Pristi can live for a millenia if he didn't die of something else."

Riotar took out his pipe again and lit it up, his scruffy beard and hard face were now much more visible. "In some parts people worship the Flow, giving it sentience and all that. If you ask me, it's like gravity, it's there and we depend on it. Though we do believe in a maker, who created us, the maker of magic I guess although I do not pursue much of that belief."

In front of them appeared two sets of papers. They picked them up and looked at them. "Guess we are first." Riotar looked at Havoc and grinned.

* * *

><p>He had managed to track his wayward friend back to the Elethea mansion. He didn't even actually track him, more like going where he would go.<p>

The ancestral home was abandoned, decorative vines were growing out of control and covered most of the brown facade that Russell knew the mansion had. Stagnation was in the air and it was stifling. Guilt grabbed his throat and sorrow took hold around his heart.

I could have done something, thought Russell as he approached the open doors and stepped inside. The interior was silent and still, the stale air made it hard to breathe and itched his throat. A fine layer of dust has accumulated on the marble floor of the lobby.

A double door and two doors on either side were closed, but the double door had signs of use. Russell drew his sword and slowly opened the doors. The dinning room was also absent of any life. To remember how lively even with only three people in the mansion was heart breaking. Seeing it all just made the guilt-trip even harder.

On the floor there were footprints and they led to what Russell remembered it to be the cellar. Russell was never down there so he was going into unknown territory. He looked down at the sword in his hand and thought why had he even unsheathed it. Carlyle was like a son to him.

Feeling both stupid and guilty, he sheathed his sword and opened the door. Just like the rest of the dreary, abandoned mansion, it was dark. The little light from the dinning room did little to penetrate the darkness. At first Russell thought that nobody went down there but the trail said otherwise.

A distant shriek found it's way to the entrance. Despite it's weakness, the emotion inside it, the rage and despair, was palpable. It was too weak, however, to know if it was Carlyle or somebody else.

He slammed into a wall of reluctance, but soon broke through it, he wasn't five centuries old to be scared of some screams. While the many battles were fresh in his mind like it was yesterday, he still found himself overly cautious.

From his hand sprung a ethereal ball of light that lit up the moist and ancient hallway. It was made out of bricks that could date centuries back, and by the looks of it, Russell deduced it was a ancient complex which the mansion was built upon.

The Elethea dynasty was a great line of healers and sorcerers and had ample time to expand their coven.

In the back of Russell's mind throbbed the familiar dot that Carlyle spilled into the Flow, and he followed it through the maze that was the complex until stumbling into a study that hadn't been used in years.

It was soon forgotten by Russell when he spotted a figure that thrummed with the essence of Carlyle. The soft light in his hand cast the light short of revealing Carlyle's face, but it did reveal papers strewn about the oak desk. From where he stood, Russell could see diagrams on them but that was it.

One deep blue and one gray eye stared at him through the darkness, and only now did Russell realize why they looked so familiar. Deep blue of the father, soft gray of the mother. A resounding tremor of shock rumbled through him. It couldn't be!

"My god..." was all that Russell could say, the epiphany he had experienced had left him paralyzed. In the gray eye there floated misery and doubt, while in the cobalt was murdering intent.

"Hopefully the two halves wouldn't come to a conflict even with the weak bond we had created between them." said Carlyle, reading from a parchment in his hand. "What did you know, Russell, my good friend?"

The sarcastic tone felt like a cold edge to Russell, and the wall of grief threatened to overtake him. "I knew you were a homunculus. I tried to make your life as normal as possible, believe me. But I have never known that...that they did something like this."

Russell would have never believed that Joachim and Clara would go so far as to tear their souls apart for material. In the end they had fooled him with their fake assurances and smiles, that they were okay with not being able to have a baby. The very human-like nature of Carlyle was different from a homunculus, but he didn't pay attention to it.

"It's tearing me apart. They are fighting and would soon kill me." Carlyle spoke so flatly that it was disturbing. He walked along the desk and entered the light. His face was no longer what it was before. The left side of his face was very masculine while the right seemed to be borderline feminine.

"My mother died first and her full soul had maintained dominance until father died. And you know what? I am still going to bring them back."

This time flashed a sinister glint in both of Carlyle's eyes. The programing of a homunculus. Russell had seen more of the horror and depravity of the people he had called friends in the last minute than his whole life. What more horrid secrets does the depths of Elethea household contain.

"How? To bring back the dead is impossible."

Carlyle seemed undettered. "Carlyle, I am sorry. I thought that it was best you didn't know what you truly were, I wanted to provide you a normal life." Russell couldn't regret his actions, Carlyle's smiles made the pain of lies worth it.

"What's done is done. Now leave, I have work to do." the last vestiges of Carlyle suddenly vanished and something else entirely replaced it. It was the programing embedded deep into the alchemical construct. What the program contained could only reveal that it was something sinister, a plan in the making that must have spanned centuries.

The nature of Elethea dynasty was finally revealed. And Russell was horrified, destroyed and shocked by it.

With a wave of his hand, Carlyle swept away Russell out of the room, through the underground complex, into the dinning room and out the door where Russell fell flat on his arse.

In moments Russell tried to go back in but a barrier of immense power blasted him away, sending shocks of white-hot pain through the pristi's body. When they stopped Russell could only howl for Carlyle, for a friend and son he had sop much cared about, because of duty that he had to him.

* * *

><p>What the youngest Weasley spoke of was more than troubling. What Lupin and Severus had speculated was not even close to the gravity of the situation at hand. The absence of Albus had left the rest of the Order in shambles, and Severus was the only one who had managed to gather the pieces.<p>

"Is it possible?" Remus asked. Sirius rubbed his forehead, obviously formulating a plan of reaching Potter. Severus thought the man was a moron for even thinking of Potter as saveable. He had taken the liberty of extracting the memories from the Weasley and had inspected them thoroughly.

What surprised Severus the most was the vast amount of memories that were Potter's. Almost half of them were damaged beyond repair, but some were repairable. Useless memories of quidditch and schoolwork, although there were some such as Tom Riddle, the philosopher's stone and more of Potter's clandestine adventures.

The memory Severus focused the most was the conversation between Granger, Weasley and Potter. Potter had even offered them to join him, talking about turning every wizard into a pristi. On that thought returned Severus to Remus' question.

"Lucius and Draco had paid a visit a week ago." Severus started but was unable to continue when Sirius turned his attention towards him.

"And when did you mean to tell us?" Sirius asked in restrained fury. Remus shot a disapproving glare towards his husband before facing Severus. "That is beside the point." he said.

Severus couldn't agree more. It's not like he owned any explanation to Sirius of all people. "What did they say?"

"Nothing that we don't already know. Draco, however, is still alive and well," there Severus hoped. "But he did show abilities he couldn't have ever had. Wandless magic, and he said that Potter gave them to him."

The looks on Sirius' and Remus' faces were expected. The three men were well aware of the rivalry between the two teens was tittering on the edge of hatred, and how Severus' grandson spoke so earnestly, it was unexpected to say the least.

"Then it is." Remus said, his graying eyebrows furrowed in thought. It was for a fact that Potter was hounding for a war sooner or later, but with the sincerity he spoke of turning everybody into a pristi if they so desired couldn't be swept away as a ruse.

If anything, Potter was always so bloody honest that Snape didn't even have to be an accomplished legilimens to know.

"Perhaps Dumbledore had judged wrongly? I have never heard of Overlords, or the reason they were dangerous." Remus said.

Even Sirius, who was from one of the oldest wizard families had little knowledge of these Overlords, but what he had read was that they were evil lords vowed to rule most if not all of the world. Something similar to Voldemort.

"Albus may have been wise, but he was still human."

* * *

><p>The coliseum thrummed with barely restrained energy. The crowd held their breath, awaiting for the first blow to fall. On the snow-speckled sand below Havoc leaned on his sword and watched his opponents, Riotar's, every move.<p>

Riotar was motionless and utterly silent except for the soft hum of machinery inside his armor that made his movements possible, his fingers tightly wound around the handle of his ancestral heirloom: an black axe made out of minionsteel that would withstand ages upon ages.

Havoc wished he could see the man's eyes, but the visor was so opaque no light penetrated it. If he could see the man's eyes, he could anticipate his moves far easily. The armor was also so static that no motion was visible, bereft of yet another visible clue of planned assault.

The axe was undoubtedly heavy, and by the armor that Riotar wears means that Riotar would have a hard time differing between the weight of the armor and the axe. Havoc had a hunch that this would go on for a long time if somebody didn't go first.

Well, I'm going to start then. Havoc's magic slowly creeped and Riotar wasn't showing any signs of noticing, but that was just because of the armor. He surrounded him as quickly as possible and kept his body relaxed, to stay as it is to avoid showing any signs.

In a split second he sent four dirt walls up into the sky and slammed them together to encase Riotar. It would buy him a few seconds, but that was enough for one charging lunge to end the duel before it even started.

In three long strides Havoc traversed the ten meter distance and thrust his sword into the impromptu cage. The soul-infused blade slid through the dirt and abruptly stopped. Havoc quickly realized it was blocked, he pulled out and was almost hit by the ball tip of the axe as it burst through the dirt barrier.

Dust and sand rose as Havoc rolled aside, creating as much distance as he could between them. Havoc was barely on his feet when Riotar burst from the cage and headed straight for him. In mere moments the norwegian was upon Havoc, sending quick jabs with the tip of his axe, aimed at the knees and ribs.

Havoc blocked with swipes of his sword but soon he would miss one and get hit. With each swing Havoc stepped backward, and if it continued Havoc would be against the wall and easy to beat.

He found a pattern to Riotar's attacks, knee, rib, knee. When aiming at the ribs, his hold on the axe was weaker and the axe head was high enough. When the axe was where Havoc wanted it, he brought up yet another wall into the axe and almost sent it flying into the air.

Havoc sidestepped and swung at Riotar's side but a dirt wall suddenly appeared and covered Riotar's side, giving the man the moment to back away. Only the tip of Havoc's sword hit the left legging and split it in half, revealing machinery and the bodyglove within.

With half of it's internal mechanisms destroyed, Riotar was crippled. Havoc dodged the proceeding retaliation and pressed his advantage, savagely sending blow after blow against the head and handle of Riotar's axe, frequently almost chopping off the man's fingers.

What intrigued Havoc the most was how silent Riotar was in battle, so unlike from before during their battle with the giants. But it could most certainly be that the helmet was soundproofed if need-be, Riotar could be laughing, roaring and nobody would be the wiser. Havoc was gasping for air even though his lungs filled with air and magic so he could sustain his barrage.

The power that flowed through his entire body made Havoc feel like he could go on forever until both his sword and Riotar's axe were nothing more but shapeless lumps of metal. But he didn't have time for that, he needed to win this tournament and take what was rightfully his.

While Havoc was mindlessly attacking, Riotar caught the sword between the handle and his arm plating. Havoc couldn't pull out the sword and screamed when his knee burst into flames and bended sideways. Riotar had slammed his heavy boot into his knee and Havoc could no longer walk on it.

The kicking would have continued if Havoc didn't let go of the sword and fell backward, out of range. Riotar flunged the sword as far as possible and walked over to Havoc. Havoc glared with searing tears in his eyes.

It couldn't end like this, it just couldn't. He was an Immortal, the ones who always came out on top, the ones who could never be beaten; and here he is, a possibly broken knee and on the ground. As the axe slowly rose and cut the sun in half, Havoc remembered.

If he lost here, what would Rex think? Just thinking about it was so demoralizing that thought of letting Riotar finish him off seemed great. Havoc searched in the crowd for Rex and found him like a beacon. Even from this distance Havoc could see the encouraging glare, how he held his breath in anticipation.

Hermione was sitting beside him along with the leader of the Sentinels who looked grimly determined with his helmet. In the end Havoc had too many people he would disappoint if he lost now, and losing suddenly stopped being an option.

Cursing his stupidity for not using any of his other spells and powers, Havoc raised his hand and cast the petrification spell and poured a steady amount of power into the spell so Riotar wouldn't be able to break through it in an unopportune time.

Riotar looked like a statue of some futuristic warrior fighting on some far-off planet who knows what, But Havoc didn't have time for that. He limped as fast as he possibly could to his sword and returned back to the still norwegian.

The silence was all-encompassing now. The stranger from England has very possibly beaten the Berserker of the North, using wizard tricks. Whether they like it or not, Havoc didn't particularly care. He used what he had, and soon everyone would be using everythign they had.

Havoc raised his sword with the blade pointing into Riotar's chest and sent it downward in a stabbing motion. Havoc really didn't want to kill Riotar, but what had to be done had to be done. The blade screeched into the nano fiber and suddenly hit something impenetrable beneath.

"FIRST BLOOD!" the announcer declared and the crowd lowly cheered. Havoc blinked a couple of times in confusion before extracting his sword and dispelling his paralyzing spell. Finally Riotar's voice came through the helmet's speaker, and it was that of roaring laughter.

"Oh my god, oh by the Flow, you should have seen the look on your face! It was priceless!" what Riotar was saying didn't make sense, he couldn't see Havoc's face through the shroud of darkness that permeated the inside of his helmet. He guessed the eyes were enough.

Feeling ashamed for thinking the tournament was mortal combat, Havoc helped Riotar over to the platform that would lower them back down into the gladiator pits. Riotar''s leg wasn't functioning anymore and was too heavy to move without hopping.

"Victor! Harry Potter of England!"

* * *

><p><strong>Writing emotions is very hard for me, and will need a lot of practice. Blast my objective focus. I also feel like very little happened in like 6.5k words, I mean a shitload of things should have happened in that span, wouldn't it?<strong>

**Well, the best way to improve yourself is if someone told you how. Review, critisize and whatever.**

**Also, with the school year going, I won't be so quick to post new chapters, so I hope you have stayed with me this far to be able to wait a month or two.**

**Thank you all for reading, visiting, reviewing and all in all giving the time of your life to read my story. It means a lot to me. **


	20. A Change of Hands

**After a couple of months, the Domination Anew saga had been updated! A wonder of epic proportions! School had been a pain, my imagination and manpower was thrown at my own personal take at an original work of my own and had been met with rather dubious results. Plus this chapter was a doozy to write to the end.**

**Anyway, let the saga continue!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 19<p>

A Change of Hands

"Somebody told him we were coming" shouted Jorgen over the dust and noise. Zoran thought he had gone deaf, since he couldn't hear what the dwarf was saying even though he was sitting right next to him.

"What?!" Zoran asked, squinting to prevent the century-old dust and possibly bone from getting into his eyes. "I said-" the corner of the brick wall burst to pieces, sending lethal shards of both brick and metal into the opposite wall but luckily too far to deal any significant harm.

Zoran wished he had some proper protection right now. Sooner or later his shield he had put up around himself and Jorgen would miss one of the projectiles and somebody would be dead. What neither of them expected was for the goblin to have such heavy weaponry or dared to use it underground.

The pair had tracked he goblin trader to the more safer regions of London underground, more specifically the underground since the victorian era. Now the barrage that showed no sign of stopping threathened to bury them alive if they just sat there on their arses.

Seeing that Zoran was putting all of his effort in maintaining the shield that had saved their lives, Jorgen took initiative and peeked around the now demolished corner to properly look at the goblin's position.

The tunnel was completely blocked off with rotten boards, chains, and water-logged furniture; an improv barricade. In the only opening was a goblin cannon along with muggle rifles. Four or five goblins and what looked to be gnomes were laying down continous fire that made Jorgen back off even though Zoran's barrier extended to him far enough to keep him moderately safe.

As to who told they were coming made Jorgen's stomach clench. The only one who knew they were searching for the goblin trader was Uther. When they asked for the trader they were careful not to reveal their intentions.

How Fruck's bodyguards greeted them, he was obviously told Jorgen and Zoran were out to get him. Whoever owns that sword is somebody incredibly influental and powerful, and Jorgen found himself worried into what he had got himself into.

But debts are debts and Jorgen Ironbeard will never back down from paying one.

A dozen bricks fell out of the ceiling. The superstructure can't take much more of this. Jorgen prayed to his ancestors and drew his wand. He crawled over to the rubble that was once a corner and slowly lifted his wand to aim at the barricade.

The rifles spewed forth a continous flow of amunition and had reduced the wall opposite of the tunnel to dirt. "Confringo." Jorgen whispered and a ball of flame erupted beneath the barricade, resulting in an inferno that roared down the ancient tunnel.

Zoran's shield saved Jorgen from frying, but the dwarf felt the intense heat on his face for a moment when moist and cold air poured back in to replace the air burned by the fireball.

Both of the men waited in sudden silence, their ears painfully ringing. Hurting was better than being dead.

Jorgen lifted himself up and dusted off his coat, looking at his handiwork. From the rotten boards only remain splinters that are imbedded in both flesh and brick. Furniture lay in pieces and slowly burning and only the thin barrel of the cannon remained on the floor. Far behind the bodies of the ambushers lay motionless.

Zoran lifted himself off the ground and stumbled to stand beside Jorgen. He had never channeled that much power for so long, he was drained. Every bullet and piece of debris that was deflected felt like they hit him instead, never had he felt like that and hopes to feel it as little as possible in the future.

Through the gaping hole, with a blaze trail going through it, Jorgen and Zoran entered into what seemed to be a warehouse of sorts. Crates upon crates were stacked haphazardly and some seemed to be on the verge of faling off their prospective heap.

Their contents are unknown, there is no label on them and the smell was stale just like everywhere. If anything else, they muet be illegal otherwise they wouldn't be here. One of the crates must've fallen as sword litered the ground next to one of the crate towers.

They bore the same coat of arms on the hilt that left little doubt if the goblin trader had ties with the secret organization bent to destroy every pristi they found.

Behind one of the crate spires that reached high into the darkness above where the torchlight couldn't reach was a heavy wooden door. Rats scurried through the large cracks in the walls, away from the interlopers.

Surely whoever was hiding behind thta door was well aware that their comrades had been slain or badly wounded. Jorgen first listened at the door but heard nothing. "Let me try something." Zoran whispered and pressed himself softly against the door.

Being a pristi had it's advantages. He felt his magic slowly slither under the door like a tendril, feeling the area around and getting a vague glimpse in short spurts of how the room looked like. It looked like a makeshift office with yet another door leading somewhere. He also felt two presences on opposite sides beside the door.

They certainly weren't there to give them a warm welcome. Zoran slowly backed away from the door. "One on either side of the door, you take the left, me the right." Zoran whispered. Zoran had never killed before, but for some reason he felt prepared to take a life, prepared to defend his race.

He guessed that was racial pride.

Jorgen nodded and grasped tightly around his wand. He looked at Zoran. "Your weapon, lad?"

Even though Zoran had never really carried weapons with him, the comfortable weight of the dagger he had taken was comforting. He drew it out of it's small sheath and steeled himself.

Jorgen must've deemed the dagger to be enough and tapped his wand against the door. Behidn the door came out a loud deafening pop, followed by screeches of anger and pain. He opened the door and sent a dozen spells into the corner where a form writhed in pain until slumping as a mutilated corpse.

Zoran had passed beside Jorgen and lunged in the corner covered by the door. Warm blood poured in steady streams as the dagger went in and out of the soft flesh. The screams were harrowing, so desperate. Hands swiped at Zoran, trying to grab him, but Zoran just kept on stabbing until the man was dead.

After the hectic ordeal, Jorgen and Zoran inspected whom they killed. The one Jorgen killed was no longer recognizable except that he or she was an humanoid. The stabbed one was dressed in pristi hunter uniform and mask.

No grieving for me, Zoran thought hopefully.

The desk looked like somebody was taking as many documents as possible before leaving a trail of them going through the side door. Fruck must've been so scared that he fled without paying attention to the fact he was leaving a trail.

The office was empty of anything worthwhile, and smelled of decompossed wood. Jorgen and Zoran then ran through the door in pursuit of the renegade goblin.

They would have lost themselves in the dark maze that was the London underground if it weren't for the paper trail and Jorgen's lumos light. However they had to catch up to the goblin, sooner or later the trail would stop because he realized he was making a trail or ran out of documents.

Let's make sure we don't let him, both Jorgen and Zoran thought and quickened their pace.

Left, left, right, left, right. By how twisting the trail went, it was easy to conclude the goblin was too terrified to make a sensible route. The entire underground looked forboding, shafts of faint light far apart gave it more of an condeming feel. As if they were in some dungeon that showed the outside, but made it unreachable.

It was a harrowing to even think of being stuck in this place and Zorna pushed it out of his mind. Soon both of them heard hurried steps coming from farther away. Jorgen dimmed the light on his wand into darkness.

"Hold me by the shoulder, lad, we dwarves can see better in the dark."

Zoran grasped the dwarf's shoulder and looked into the darkness, feeling uncomfortable to be blind. He had faith in Jorgen to lead them to the very likely prospect of capturing Fruck Nomok and get this over with.

He had risked his life for Havoc's cause enough times, but he had a feeling that the count would only go up preety soon.

The shafts of light gave short respite to Zoran's eyes as they trudged onward through puddles and rat droppings. The stench was unbreable. Jorgen, on the other hand, seemed to not be bothered by it. Ammonia burned Zoran's nostrils and made them dry as sand, letting who knows what go by into his respiratory system.

"Oh, dear. Oh, dear." came desperate whines and splashes just around the corner. Jorgen removed Zoran's hand off his shoulder and jumped into the hall, shining his lumos as brightly as possible.

Fruck Nomok shielded his eyes as the light assaulted his darkness-adapted eyes and made them burn in protest. Zoran blinked several times before stepping into the light and grabbed hold of the short goblin.

Strangely, Fruck didn't struggle and seemed resigned when Zoran lifted him up by the collar of his scruffy brown muggle business suit. In his clawed hand he held a single piece of parchment in a deathgrip.

"Really? After almost killing us you give up?" hissed Zoran, pissed for getting almost killed just to see this bastard give up like this. "I was a dead man the moment I shook his hand. How blind have I been! Once again tricked!" Fruck bellowed in anger, swinging his small fists into the air.

Then his beady eyes fell upon Jorgen and spotted the wand in his hand. "You deceitful creatures! A dementor has more heart than you, wizards!" Fruck turned his ugly head at Zoran and was about to hiss an insult when Zoran man-handled him so they were face to face.

"I am no wizard. I am a pristi. And you must be Fruck Nomok, the goblin dealer we've been looking for."

"And what do you want?" Fruck grounded out like a weary trader who had an annoying customer too many. "Well, if you could have just let us in you could have known sooner, now wouldn't you?"

"Lad, we've got no time for this."

Zoran nodded and looked Fruck in the eye. "What dealings do you have with the hunters of my kind. Who are they? To where do you send the goods?"

"They said that you would come, told me that you were out to get me. In some way they didn't lie to me, hmm..." Fruck contemplated about the many crimes the wizardkind had done to his race and Zoran had to shake him like a bag to get his attention back.

"They are the Order-" started Fruck when his entire body started to spasm and his eyes lit up with a horrible realization. "H-He...put...a spell...on me...take this...it's the shipment...records..."

In his last throes of agony, Fruck Nomok spoke something in goblin that Zoran couldn't understand before the goblin went limp and the core every living being had and that every pristi could sense went dull, expelling the life force into the air and back into the Flow. Jorgen seemed mildly disturbed by the sudden, brutal death of their query.

Zoran softly opened the closed fist where the piece of paper was crushed and pocketed it. He looked at the dead body and felt wrong about leaving it here. Both parties were damaged by the hunters, and it was only fair to give them the dignity they deserve, or whatever form of pride the goblins have.

The bodies were banished to the Ministry of Magic with a note for Kingsley. A mention of Havoc was enough to keep the Auror from not looking into it. Zoran had heard that Kingsley was the only one to survive the onslaught at Hogwarts Castle, presumably spared by Havoc.

Only after being safely in public view in Diagon Alley did Zoran let himself wind down and relax.

Jorgen was reading the crumpled parchment while Zoran ate ice cream he bought from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. They took a sit at one of the offered tables.

"A lot of steel they've been buying. Magically reinforced steel, tha' is. It's cheaper to buy already done steel than enchanting it on your own, they sure try to save money. They be shipping it to York, though there is no address."

Zoran put down his spoon and let it rattle against the glass bowl where his ice cream once was and said, "Our mission was to find where they were getting those weapons from, and this is preety close so I think we're done."

Jorgen gave him an uncertain look and the small mouth surrounded by an even smaller beard pursed into a thin line. "Going farther would be even more trecherous, but we've now attracted their attention. Maybe we should head back to report?"

"Good idea." Zoran agreed and raised his hand to call for the waiter so he could pay the bill when somebody caught it and gripped tightly. "May I ask for you to come with me?"

* * *

><p>Hermione finally put down the last book on Pristi history there was in the vast library that seemed to hold both muggle and wizard literature. Though they hated each other with a passion, at least the pristi respected knowledge and good writing.<p>

The millenia old librarian shuffled into view from behind one of the bookcases, a very approving smile on his almost dessicated face. The sunken sockets housed white diamonds for eyes and the nose seemed to have long fallen off, revealing only the sinus cavity. Hermione was so shocked by his appearance that she jumped back. Small hisses came from the weathered lips of the librarian in some make-shift laugh.

The old man extracted a mask and placed it on his face. It looked like a face of a man in his prime, but was motionless in time. "Apologies, young one. My surprise was so great that I have forgotten to cover my face. My eyes had never seen such a dedicated researcher, and I have been a librarian all my life." his voice sounded young and muffled, as if coming from somewhere deeper inside the mask

Hermione held her chest and waited for her heart to slow down. She thought an Inferius had somehow stumbled into camp from whatever frozen grave it called home. Her first instinctual reaction was to back off and draw her wand and now found herself slightly shellshocked by the fact that there was no continuation of movements her instincts had put in motion.

"I'm so sorry for reacting like that, it was indecent." a blush sprung in her cheeks. To disrespect someone who has had a millenia of experience made her so ashamed she thought she would die.

A gloved hand slowly waved her apology away. "None needed, it is only natural. Time is a harsh lord, but we must abide by his law."

This time a bitter-sweet laugh left the librarian. "I must commend you on your passion for written word, young one. Many young people had visited these ancient halls in search of knowledge, but they all never had the zest like you. My, my, you remind me of myself."

Though the man seemed to be interesting, Hermione felt that he wasn't a very sociable person and a dull bore when he was younger. She respected the man for being alive for a millenia but her frustration was steadily climbing. There were no mentions of prophecy markings that would explain the omens Havoc spoke of.

All she found was about the matrons and that the omens read were always related to the conclusion of the tournament. The only exception was Victor, Havoc's ancestor, who had very unlikely omens read to him but they weren't listed.

"Well, I think I've found what I was looking for. Excuse me." Hermione walked past the crooked librarian, gave a polite smile and got out of the library and into the cold alpine night. She had been reading all day, thankfully she was able to flip the page and instantly memorize what she saw, the perks of new control over magic, and was heavy with fatigue and annoyance.

The coliseum was silent, but still vibrating the residue of both it's fighters and spectators. The latest match must have ended a couple of hours ago.

Hermione casted a warming spell on herself but still clutched the books she didn't have time to read close to her chest and trodded back to their tent. She passed a couple of soldiers chatting happily around one of the brazziers, sending long shadows in all directions.

"Did you see that crazy jap? A RED in that enclosed space? He must have been nuts!" one of the soldiers tapped the side of his helmet for emphasis. "It isn't the stock one, though. Heavy modification on that one. He sure ended the match in a flash. He beat Immortal by a few seconds." said the other.

"That was one wicked blow to the knee. Probably got a pass for the rev well."

Hermione walked away confused by their conversation. The context in which they were talking was alien to her. And she hated when she didn't know something.

The tent had half of Krin's troupe guarding it. If one considers guarding making an impromptu party, but at least they were there to keep the place safe. And by the way they stopped mid movement when she entered showed they were still wary of any danger around them.

When they noticed it was Hermione, they waved or grinned before continuing on with their festivity. The minions truly were enigmas. Again their coordination and team cohesion showed as they managed to do all the crazy things like launching food and chairs into the air, but still made a path for Hermione to move unscathed. A hard thing to get used to when having this rowdy bunch as servants.

As she was putting down her books in her private bedroom she heard cheers coming from the main room. She stepped out to look and saw Krin glaring at his troupe who looked undettered by it.

"If there is a single chair out of place when the Sire's return, there will be a lashing." Krin said and smirked when the disorderly half of his troupe began returning the room back to what it was prior to their outburst of partying.

In a matter of minutes the room was right again as if a wizard had cast a spell.

Hermione walked over to Krin who was very happy with himself and his troupe. "Mistress." he tapped his helmet in a salute. "Please, call me Hermione."

"As you wish, Hermione" by the tone of his voice, he was unacustomed to call his masters by their first name. Hermione gave him a soft smile before asking. "Can you take me to the Well of Rejuvination?"

"If you are worried of Sire Havoc's injuries, I assure you the lord is healing nicely." he wasn't rebuffing her, and Hermione understood that he mean't do disrespect. "Where is Rex?"

Krin called for one of the minions. A brown minion with strange red spots on his bald scalp approached and saluted. "Yes, commander?"

"Where might be Lord Rex?" Krin asked. The minion mulled over the question. "I believe I've last seen him heading to the main tent." he said with slight reluctance. "He was armored, sir."

Hermione and Krin gawked at the minion. Krin was the first to recuparate from the shock. "Why didn't you tell me sooner!?" Hermione placed a placating hand on Krin's small shoulder. "Is it because of the thing this morning. That the council was having contact with Dumbledore?"

"Dunno, mistress." the minion shrugged. Krin sighed and waved him away. "Prepare for battle, our Lord needs us."

* * *

><p>Little could have prepared Zoran for the barrage of questions that assailed him and his comrade. The one asking the questions was none other than his father's personal aide and bodyguard: Karlo.<p>

In his robes that have been used several decades ago, with all of its remaining dust and webbing interwoven into the fabric, Karlo looked less than intimidating as Zoran remembered him. However, his face was still sheltered inside his cowl, and inside were narrowed dots of pale blue light.

Karlo was the stouch and adamant servitor of Zoran's father. Never showing his face and patrolling around the property in his family's armor, enforcing the ever-present and faceless force as Hrvoje Brand's right hand.

The fact that the sullen bodyguard was in Diagon alley told volumes of how pissed his father was.

"I can't answer you on any of those questions cause I couldn't get a thing you were saying."

A deep sigh came from the cowl. "Are you two deaf, blind and tactless? Have you not noticed that you've been followed all day?"

"By you?"

Karlo snorted. "As if you would ever notice me trailling you. No, I am talking about the apparent assassins awaiting ample opportunity to slide a dagger into both of your backs. On whatever business the young Immortal had sent you is far too dangerous for you and your companion. You are up against a organization that has been here since the dawn of wizards."

Zoran made a mock gasp. "Karlo, don't tell me you are worried about me?"

"I only follow the orders of my lord, whelp." came a sharp retort. "What have you done to procure such lethal attention?"

Jorgen watched the two converse and stepped aside. Let them have their home quarrels. What did catch his attention though were two figures on either end of the tight street Karlo had dragged them over from the ice cream shop.

"I don't wish to stop yer discussion, but I think the lethal attention has found us."

Karlo only grumbled as he drew a longsword from his robes. "Flee, mongrels, before you are smited by the sword of Brand."

The strength and will behind those words drew a heartstring in Jorgen's chest. He had not seen such loyalty in a long time. Zoran drew his own dagger, but Karlo waved the younger man's weapon away. "I do not need your help, whelp. After this we shall return back to the manor."

The two strangers were silent. And in silence drew their own swords from within their robes that would easily hide them amongst the hundreds of wizards that go through Diagon Alley. This particular street was abandoned, shops closed since the days of Voldemort's attack were on either side and empty.

How Karlo would go up against two of them on opposite sides on his own made Jorgen think twice. The cowled figure glanced at him. "Go into this shop, dwarf, and take the whelp with you until I am done with these interlopers."

"Whatever. Let's go, Jorgen." Zoran harrumphed, antagonized by the constant name calling, and entered one of the abandoned shops with Jorgen right behind him. He didn't pay his father's aide even a look.

Karlo sighed and steadied his hand around the grip of his longsword. What I do for love.

One of the strangers made a gurgling sound and a glint of something silver struck from his neck. Crimson blood spurted in arterial gushes, and even more so when the blade was removed. The man fell and revealed that behind him stood yet another robed and armored figure.

It reached out and from the fingertips issued a lightning bolt. The blue arcs passed Karlo by and slammed into the figure behind him. The smell of burnt flesh and hair quickly filled the alley. Karlo readied his sword in a parrying pose, prepared to engage the next lightning bolt with his word. Dodging was useless in this tight alley.

"Lower your weapon, servant of Brand. I mean you no harm." the shrouded figure spoke and pulled the hood down, revealing blonde hair with a coppery hue and a grim face of Russell Thorn. Karlo's eyes widened in surprise.

He lowered his sword. Russell Thorn was alive and kicking. It was thought the Generals were all slain in the last battle along with Victor. Thorn's metal footsteps were louder than normal as he stepped down the smelling alley.

"Let us go back to my lord." Thorn said as he turned into the shop Zoran and Jorgen had disappeared a minute ago. Karlo grimaced, General or not, he did not serve the man's lord or let his quarry go along with him. He followed in and almost rammed into the man's back as he hadn't moved from the entrance.

"I cannot let you-" Karlo began when Thorn raised his hand in the air for silence. "The young Brand and dwarf have been taken." he said flatly. Karlo blinked and passed by the man further into the decaying shop and found nobody. On the dusty floor were numerous footprints that suggested a brief struggle before being apparated away. Forcefully, more likely.

"We must find them." the words leapt out of Karlo's mouth before he even thought about it. They were forced out by the sudden cold clenching his insides. Oh Zoran...

Thorn didn't say anything as he paced around the spot where they were presumably apparated away. Karlo could feel the magic at work, the tendrils of the man mapping every particle of magic around the spot like a hungry octopus. He would have attempted the same thing if he had the knowledge and skill to procure the precise route the spell took. Trying it without expert skill could very likely result in apparition into a wall or somewhere worse.

"I have found their location. We will need assistance. Us two alone are not enough to go against them. I hope you will accompany me to Lord Immortal, servant of Brand." Thorn said as he exited the alley and sweeping his hand over the two bodies on either end of the alley. The corpses dissolved into dust and were swept away into the nooks and cranies of the floor by a swipe of Thorn's hand.

"How about you give me their location and let me go by myself." Karlo snapped. Thorn turned with a raised coppery eyebrow. "Don't let your feelings get in the way." he said with an air of calm that only came with age.

Karlo grimaced beneath the shroud of his hood. "What feelings, old man," he retorted in a scathing tone. "Now tell me where they are." Thorn shook his head in disagreement. "I cannot let you do that. For all we know, they may be preparing an ambush if we were to follow," Thorn said, his hands crossed over his chest. "We will need help, and Lord Immortal will provide."

Karlo noted how the man spoke Immortal's name with slight annoyance tinging his voice. For all the power the boy holds, he certainly hasn't earned the old General's favour just yet. However he nor his master could capitalise on it because Thorn was an incredibly loyal soldier. And Karlo was also certain that the man will not provide him with the location if he does not go with him.

With grudging reluctance, Karlo presented his arm and Thorn grasped it before they apparated. The feeling of being squeezed through a tight tube was never a comfortable one and Karlo simply despised it. Before he knew it, the sensation stopped and he landed on his feet onto a wooden floor. A light sense of nausea attacked and he had to look down to steady himself.

Choking silence surrounded him and as he looked up, he saw a very hostile situation before him. Only three Concil members were standing between him and Immortal's lover who is brandishing his greatsword and glaring hot daggers at the three.

Beside him Thorn was tense. "My Lord? What is going on?" Thorn said in a carefully modulated tone. One of the Concil members was the japaneese former Shogun of ages past, her face was absent of any emotion. The other two were Ragnar and Louise, Ragnar had the look of shock while Louise was irritated at best. "Louise, you conversed with a wizard? Dumbledore? What is the matter with you?!" Louise turned on the nord and snapped. "I am doing what I must to assure our survival, Ragnar," her tone was scathing and venomous. "Get it through your thick skull that we are on the brink and getting closer to it every day."

"Then why are you trying to destroy our only hope?!" Ragnar roared in disbelief. "The wizard was right!" finally Louise let her throat fully open. "The America's are awakening, they sense the boy!"

Rex observed the steadily louder conversation when the nord blanched at the mention of America, some far of continent as far as Rex knew. "Killing him now would only doom us all." Thorn finally spoke. Everyone turned to look at him. "We must teach him everything we know: tactics, magic and fighting. When have you been planning the assassination?" most people would have winced at the question but Louise didn't even flinch. She truly believed she was doing the best for her race. "Today at the well."

Rex's red eyes had gone wide as saucers and he ran out of the tent. He almost ran over Krin who was fully equiped for battle along with his troupe. "With me!" he called and got an immediate response. A bit far back was Hermione, clutching her stomach from running. "Havoc needs your help" he said to her as he passed. He couldn't watch her reaction but he knew that she was most certainly distraught.

He thundered down wide path between the tents and passed several guards who were chatting around a brazier. The tents suddenly gave way to ruins of Roman arhitecture. Crumbling pillars and spacious buildings were everywhere around him. Then the nagging feeling became more apparent and Rex realized it was Havoc calling him. He was consumed with such hatred that he had not even heard the desperate calls of the person he was trying to protect.

Now as he was entirely open to the bond, Rex was flooded with anger, fear and desperation. Just the emotions one would have going up against seventeen of the most powerful pristi. And with the bond open he knew where Havoc was.

A dozen meters away was a deceptively crumbling ruin of a bath house, but in fact it was wholesome inside. A wooden sturdy door gave way to Rex's shoulder and Rex was assailed by warm moist air. The sounds of crackling flames and explosions almost made Rex deaf and was glad for the sound dampening enchantment on his helmet. Sixteen men and women dressed in armor have surrounded two and showering them with everything they've got. A protective bubble was above the two in the center, dangerously rippling and denting beneath the barrage.

The assailants were so immersed in their mission and the noise was so loud they hadn't even noticed that Rex had come in, or spot Krin's troupe getting ready for a swift blow. Hermione casted a sound dampening spell around her head and though about one around her body, the vibrations from the explosions were making her lose balance. When she saw Havoc's strained face inside the bubble with the lizard beside him adding his own power to the sheld, she felt something snap inside her. Her lips and hand moved on their own accord, weaving a spell that she couldn't even fathom. She thought it was a kind of destructive spell, but she was wrong.

When her movements ended and her lips were sealed, the spell came into being and settled down onto the minions as thin veil. Their skin and armor shimmered with energy of unknown purpose, but Hermionehad a feeling the little creatures will be as safe as they could be when charging into battle against powerfuly pristi. She wondered how did the minions feel about attacking their former masters under the order of the same.

Rex hadn't even noticed that she had done anything. "Attack." his voice was barely audible in the chaos. Hermione winced at the bright explosions and could only see shapes of the minions zipping towards the circle of people. She found a safe spot and observed from there, leaving her hand be above the shelter to send carefully aimed stun bolts at the attackers.

The element of surprise let Rex cut the nearest one cleanly in half and the minions managed to cut down three of them before they responded in kind. Their spells and swords came down upon them, Rex deftly drained and parried while the minions used their small frames to dodge. Some hadn't been lucky and had been caught by a sword or spell, but they all bounced against the shimmering surface of their skin. The spell was working.

The reaction at that went through the battle like a wave. Everyone suddenly changed tactics and strayed from any close encounter, flinging fireballs and bolts at Rex and his soldiers. One of the pristi fell down, knocked out cold by one of Hermione's stun bolts and one of the minions sent his halberd flying and into the woman's skull, killing her instantly. The minions whooped and their cheer was silent as a fireball sent them flying without even damaging them.

Suddenly the bubble behind the pristi silently collapsed and out of it came out a furious barrage of energy, wiping out five in the first wave. Rex spotted claws and teeth dart in and out of necks and swords, sparks flew into the moist air. The distraction was enough for Rex to close in and engage the austrian Adair in melee combat. The man's technique resembled those of the elves Rex had saved. On the delicate face was the focus of a warrior and a slight tinge of desperation. "Surrender now and you will live." Rex suggested. A hopeful expression flitted across the man's face.

"Surrender." Rex repeated, he had to get through the man. Whatever the danger was forming in the Americas was too dangerous to let them lose every powerful pristi. "There is no point in fighting. You have failed and your only chance is to follow us." The faux elf's movements were becoming sluggish and had numerous openings, and both knew it.

Both knew that Rex would've cut Adair down the first chance he got if he was out for more blood and lying about letting them live. Adair gently disengaged and backed away while calling for a surrender. It turned out that the remaining four had the same thoughts and also disengaged before dropping their swords in surrender.

Again Rex's tunnel vision disappated and let him feel Havoc's emotions flood in. Relief, love, happiness and so many other emotions created a maelstrom inside Rex. Is this was how he was feeling, Rex worried how extremely Havoc was feeling. The acrid scent of hot metal reached his nostrils and he finally relized that his armor was sizzling hot from the fireballs. Small wisps of smoke went upward from his body.

"Adair." a hiss came from Rex's side. "Why did you pursue such treachery against the youngling?" the lizardman returned his strange spear to it's strap on his back and glared directly at the austrian. Adair was about to begin explaining when the lizard cut him off. "It was a rhetorical question, Adair. You all are very much aware that it cannot be stopped, and yet you attempt in slaying your only chance of salvation. What has driven you to such action?"

"If it weren't for the boy, we wouldn't be forced." said Brand as he stepped over, clutching a wound closed on his arm. "Brand, you've always been against everything new anyone has ever suggested, why should we seek your counsel?" the lizardman hissed. Brand grimaced as he dipped himself into the well along with the other wounded before speaking.

"I am on the Concil, Razz Kota. Remember that."

"Indeed." Razz agreed. He turned and faced the weary young Overlord who stood in a small sea of minions. His flesh was wet, clammy and absolutely pale. Even his eyes were absent of his characteristic glow. "What isss your verdict, young one? You are, after all, the victim of this heinous assault."

"I approve of Rex's judgement." was all he could say before collapsing into the hands of the minions and being carried off out of the stiffling atmosphere. Rex Sheathed his greatsword. "Miss Granger, please accompany Havoc." he said. And keep him safe, he added to himself.ž

Thorn, Karlo, Luoise and the two others arrived just when the boy Immortal was taken away by his servants. Louise shook her head while Thorn sighed at the carnage within. Out of twenty remains ten, a half of the Concil had been eradicated. Louise met menacing gaze without any remorse, giving him her own menace to handle. She had underestimated the man. He wasn't pursuing his interests by being the lover of a likely possible Pristi Emperor, he really did love the whelp.

That information, however, was not worth ten of the most powerful living Pristi. Razz Kota turned to face her, his slits housing the hurt pride of a warrior and the shame of shattered promises. "Sir Thorn, head to my tent and await my arrival."

Thorn would have stayed, but his master's orders. He glanced at Karlo and leaned. "I will come get you when I aquire help." and then left. "And all of you," Rex said. "Know that you are alive because I am merciful. One mistake and I won't be of such generosity." The threat rang loud and clear in their ears. They've attacked prey far to powerful to tackle alone, and now they even depend on the prey's help if they were to survive.

When Rex left, the pristi felt like they've suffered a cataclysm.

* * *

><p><strong>I have been reading a lot of books and my writing skills have grown considerably (I think). You can probably see the leap in paragraph size between the first and second half.<br>**

**Once again, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and don't forget to review! (I wanna know what you guys think.)**

**Even though it's 3 days away: MERRY CHRISTMAS!**


	21. On The Verge

Chapter 20

On The Verge

A flash of sensation, then the nothing of sleep. Again, a flash of light and a light breeze on her skin. Hermione opened her eyes, expecting to see the flat ceiling of her room in the tent, but instead saw only white. The light that entered her eyes was all around her, there was no source, and Hermione's brain was becoming rather frustrated by that fact.

"Finally, you are awake." came an almost liquid voice to her right. It was the voice of Voldemort, the one that would freeze the blood in her veins. And yet she wasn't scared stiff, she felt relaxed and safe.

She turned her eyes to the right and saw a rather soulless expression of Tom Riddle. His eyes were only vaguely hiding the apparent loss of any kind of confidence he once as the Dark Lord. Hermione thought she would feel satisfaction at the punishment the Dark Lord had suffered, but she only found herself pitying him even more.

Where was she anyway? She understood this was some inner plane where one projected his will, but how Voldemort was here was beyond her. Was she trapped in this plane along with Voldemort, now? She shivered at the thought.

Tom snorted. "Hardly." he said flatly. "I am the prisoner with one last phone call to his name."

Hermione was surprised that he used a muggle expression. This imprisonment must've really shaken him. "And you decided to call me?" she was torn between disgust and pride.

Tom extended his long hand and Hermione took it, standing up in front of him. He was dressed in smart clothes that very much looked like those of a Hogwarts student minus the robe. "You are the smartest one of the former trio."

Former trio, indeed.

"I have been contacted by the creature that lives inside the Tower Heart." how Tom said it made Hermione feel chills go down her spine. In his voice there was reluctant respect and something else that she couldn't sense. "Arthur?" Rip had explained to her as much as he could, most of it speculations and theories about his former master's agendas. Even she couldn't think of anything that would make sense.

"Why?" she asked. Tom frowned, it was a question he couldn't answer. Because he didn't know or won't say, Hermione couldn't know. Though she suspected the former, if he expected her to help him, he would have to say everything he knew.

"I will be honest with you, Miss Granger." Tom looked Hermione directly in the eye. "He demanded of me to protect P- Havoc until the child is born."

Hermione blinked. "What child?"

She could recognize the suffering look on his face, but she stood her ground. "Havoc and his brute's child, Miss Granger." how Tom's eyebrow rose up it was clear he was thinking 'are you daft?'. Hermione didn't react to the obvious insult.

"I...I haven't sensed anyone..." Then she remembered that she had felt three presences during Havoc's duel, but she didn't see the third person. "That was me. I am imprisoned inside the sword. The child has not grown enough to exhibit life force of it's own, the influx of magic in Havoc is the perfect cover for a growing heir."

"But, he is male." Hermione almost stammered. Even in the Wizarding world there were no male pregancies except in female shapeshifters. "Yet another construct by him. He has been steadily changing Havoc's body bit by bit ever since the declaration of love from Rex. The change is more or less complete and Havoc is currently carrying his heir."

Hermione let out a gasp. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Surely you are aware that I am trying to gain your trust. It's prefectly normal if you mean to ask the said person for help." Tom shrugged. Hermione frowned. "And what kind of help do you need?"

"I need a new body. Any kind that is capable of performing the duty of protecting." Tom said. Hermione pursed her lips. "How can I trust you, letting you out of the sword and with your own body."

"This is the precise reason I am asking you to help me, Miss Granger. You are the most capable of gauging what is false and what is true." Tom said with a satisfied smile. "I promise that Havoc's safety will be my imperative until the child is born."

Hermione wished she couldn't see that he was telling the truth, she wished he was lying and this dillema would be solved quickly. "And what after?"

"Our relationship would return to it's prior status: enemies." how brutally honest Tom was made Hermione wince. "There is no need for you to have a body, however," Hermione retorted. "There are many people already loyal to Havoc and that number will only increase when he wins the tournament and becomes the Pristi Emperor."

"Men and women are easy to persuade and the walls of followers will crack until there is left an opening, a possibly lethal one." Tom countered. "And you are not a man?"

Tom smirked. "I am far beyond a mere man. I am immortal. I have delved into the deepest depths of the arcane than anyone before. I do not suffer the emotions such as love, commitment..." Tom trailed off in his tirade of power, seeming to have come to a realization of sorts.

Indeed, he does not suffer such emotions. But he does feel desire, and desire seeks to know what is love, commitment, duty. But that made him weak, didn't it? Staying in this forsaken plane of imprisonment had left him alone with himself for far too long and has brought up many disturbing thoughts he head never been aware of until now.

He unwittingly watched the suple frame of Hermione and felt himself drawn and inevitably repulsed by his own broken soul. He shook with the knowledge that if he reached to touch her, his body would fall apart. He would become a corpse like before, the sickening perversion of a living body that he himself had conncocted on that fateful day.

It hurt to think that only now had he realized what he had lost. His soul is eternally ravaged beyond repair, destined for limbo if his Horcruxes are to be destroyed and him slain. In a feverish moment, Tom thought about asking Granger to somehow reassemble his soul. But it was an impossible endavour. The pieces that had been destroyed have released it's contents and into the deep beyond.

The more he thought, the more the pursuit of knowledge he had dedicated his life to became meaningless. The hatred he had always felt, the anger and agony inside his very being! It was the accursed loss of purpose and the love potion conception that cause this. His soul was not completely formed!

But he was Voldemort! The Dark Lord! He gets what he wants by any means necessary, and what he wants is his soul.

Hermione could feel the confidence vibrate off of the young man's body. Whatever was storming inside his mind was reinforcing him, and she didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing.

"I am changing the conditions of our deal." Tom suddenly said. Hermione blinked twice before realizing he had said anything. "And that is?"

"I will protect Havoc and his offspring until I die, if you reassemble my soul and give me a living body." If it were not for the intense gaze, Hermione would've thought Voldemort had developed a funny bone just now. Reassembling a soul, Hermione would have to tread through waters she had never been in, and she had a feeling very few did. The deal was very much leaning to the benefit of Havoc and Rex. If he decided to betray them, he would be quickly back here in his prison, or even completely eradicated. How determined Voldemort was, such an outcome was unlikely.

"An Unbreakable Vow?" she suggested. Tom's streak of confidence continued and he nodded. This was a sure sign of him saying the truth or knowing a way of breaking the Vow and escaping the rebounds wrath.

With a feeling that she was shaking hands with the devil himself and sealing the pact, Hermione grasped Voldemort's hand. "Will you, Hermione Granger, reassemble my soul and grant me a new body?" Voldemort recited. "And will you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, protect Havoc and his offspring until the end of your or their lives?" Hermione asked in return.

The entire ceremony would have been rather anti-climactic and useless if the sword hadn't appeared over their grasped hands when they said yes. Out of the blade's tip issued a thin strand of flame and wound around their hands, bonding their essences until the vows are finished or one breaks it.

Hermione almost broke the contact when the sword appeared, and only looked at the holder when the ceremony was finished. The familiar form of an Overlord stood before her, but in a shining set of thick armor, the helmet shrouding the man's face in shadow. Two blue glows penetrated the cover.

"The vow is settled." he said and Hermione felt herself pushed and back in her bed.

* * *

><p>The news of the deaths of ten members of the Concil had spread like wildfire through the camp. Ten commanders from their respective nations had arrived quickly enough to prevent any collapse of the chain of command. The soldier, though, were on edge. Many of them were angry as to how had they failed to protect the camp from assassins, while the rest seemed to take it in their stride.<p>

The exact details were splayed out for all to see. A battle for power was far more minor than thinking the camp's location was known and that the leaders were being picked off by the wizards.

The entire camp was silent the following night. Everyone was milling about, not sure what to think of the recent events. At nine o'clock was scheduled a speech that should initiate the semi-finals of the tournament.

Havoc had recovered his strength after the yesterday's ordeal and was out and about in the tent, and under the annoyingly watchful eyes of both Rex and Krin. Havoc wasn't annoyed because he was attacked. In fact, he expected it somewhat. But the reason being those omens and what Dumbledore had said, that is what raised his ire.

What do the omens mean!?, he screeched inside his head for a milionth time. Hermione had said she found nothing in the library. He was restless even when lounging and thinking of responsibilities of a ruler. Rex was brooding at his desk, scribbing something on a piece of parchment.

Havoc respected the man's privacy as much as Rex respected his. But he was to restless to care about that now and walked over to the desk. Rex raised his crimson eyes to look at his mate and gave a small smile. He made no effort to hide what he wrote on the paper and it was in plain view for Havoc to see.

"What are you writing?" Havoc asked as be leaned over and pecked Rex's forehead. "I've been writing all the information that might be of use to us." Rex answered as he added one last word to the list. Havoc cocked his head to see.

In almost flowing writing was written AMERICA. "What's with America?" he asked. Rex tapped his feather on the desk, leaving small splotches of ink on the oak. "Yesterday, Louise defended her decision of assassinating you was that the America's were awakening. By their reactions I presume there is something rather dangerous there."

"Jorgen mentioned that there was no magic flowing through the entire continents. There are no Pristi settlements or groups alive there," Havoc said. "We can't live there." he added. He was still not in the mindset of being one of this race. He still considered himself just a human boy. He had to change that mindset.

"Ah." Rex made a satisfied noise as he added that little bit of information beside AMERICA. Up the list, Havoc could see the word for word record of Dumbledore's last words. And he felt no hate towards them. His eyes were clear now and he could see for what they were.

They were a broken idealists last apology for the failure of keeping the world as it is.

Rex had taken a liking to muggle tech and was checking the time on his muggle wrist watch but frowned when he found it stopped. "We will need to pay a visit to a watchmaker." he grumbled. Havoc backed away from the desk and put on a leather jacket that came with the tent and went to the door of their room.

"Let's go see him, then." he said. Rex stood up and didn't forget to put his dagger in his boot before following.

The minions were dispersed all around the camp, keeping an eye out for any possible threats while Hermione was peculiarly silent. "You still worrying about me, Mione?" Havoc asked with a cheeky grin.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "A little. You should take care." she said with that familiar tone. Havoc's smile grew as he went out with Rex so close on his heels that he thought the man would trip him.

"Easy there, bodyguard. If you want to be in me you could just ask." Rex zipped his jacket closed from the frigid wind and gave a amused grunt. Before they could begin their trek to the watchmaker, Russell appeared in all of his warrior demenour. "My Lord. I need to speak with you."

"Walk with us." Havoc said and Russell fell into step with Havoc. "Have you found Carlyle?"

"I have. He is back at his manor." Russell reluctantly said. "Why is he still there?" Havoc asked, settling in his commanding mode. "He's far from human, my Lord. He was, in fact, a homunculus."

Neither Rex nor Havoc knew what that is, and both wished that Hermione went with them. Russell obviously sensed their ignorance. "An artifical human. But unlike a homunculus he had a soul, or something close to it." Havoc could hear this topic was tender for Russell.

"His mother and father each gave half of their souls to form a new one. But when the mother died, the soul reformed and had begun taking over Carlyle, changing him into a docile boy." Russell continued. Rex kept his senses alert. He spotted a couple of soldier tipping their helmets in his direction.

On their forearms were the symbols those Sentinels wore on their armor. So they had additional protection. "But when his father died, the two souls began to fight for dominance, threatening to rip him apart. When I caught him, Carlyle finally realized his purpose and his initial programming activated, destroying the person that was Carlyle and replaced by an automaton."

Havoc frowned. "His 'parents' created him, gave their souls to create a person and they meant for him to die when he find out for what he was made?" the plot was so intricate and delusional that he was having trouble wrapping his mind around it.

"Carlyle was a diversion. He was supposed to make the homunculus life-like. His true purpose was to remain a container for the two souls and create new bodies. Why would they do it, or in this way is beyond me." Russell sighed. "My family and them were close friends for many years and we didn't truly know them."

"Is he...it dangerous?" Rex asked. Russell harumphed. "Depends on how it decides to fulfill it's purpose." he said as they reached a tent with a stand right outside. On it's top written ORAM'S CLOCKS. "So it's not dangerous." Havoc said. "For now." he added before stepping over to the stand's counter.

Rex drew up his sleeve and took off his watch. Out of thin air popped a man with a goatee, his eyes an interesting shade of amber and looked to be almost smilling. "Ah, customers. How may I help you?"

"I am afraid muggle watches stop working when close to magic." Rex said and put the watch of Rolex brand into the man's offered hands. He looked at it and gave an understanding nod.

"Yes, electronics can't handle the constant shifts in magnetic fields. Get burned up real quick when exposed to high amounts of magic." the man, Havoc presumed to be Omar, inquisitevly tapped the watch.

"Exquisitive taste. A Rolex, a popular and expensive muggle brand. I will have to take it apart and change it's power circutry and the motors. It would take a day at most." Omar put the watch down. Rex reached into his jacket pocket and procured bills from many countries.

Omar's eyes took on a mischevous glint. "Let's keep it simple, shall we? It will be a hundred dollars." Rex took a single hundred dollar bill and gave it to the man without any protest. This only let the glint turn into a flame. Rex did notice that, however.

"Higher than that and I will take the watch somewhere else." he said. Omar made a scandalized face. "I would never..."

Rex kept his gaze steady and Omar, defeated, took the dollar bill and the watch. "Come back tomorrow night."

A soldier passed by before stopping and back tracking a couple of steps until he stopped in front of Russell. "Well, I'll be...General Thorn." the soldier gave a surprised whoop. Thorn frowned until he spotted the symbol on the man's forearm plate.

He thought he would cry as his eyes started to sting with tears. Without warning he embraced the soldier. "Oh, my dear lads...you are still here," his voice was shaken, considerably more fragile than he made himself look. "I thought all of you were killed."

"Nice to see you, too, General." the soldier said, his hands up in the air, unsure if he should embrace the man. Havoc shoved his hands in his pockets and with a satisfied smile passed them by. Rex walked beside him, visibly relaxed.

"You know, he is one of the luckiest men on this planet." Havoc said. Rex looked at Havoc in wonder. "How so?"

"His past gives him happiness. It is because of those past events does he feel this happiness right now." Havoc answered in a wistful tone. "And now you wish you have a past of your own?" Rex sagely said.

Havoc stopped and looked at the blue sky, feeling melancholy creep in. The sky was suddenly blocked by Rex's tall form. Two hands settled on his shoulders and gave a comforting squeeze.

"We have a whole life ahead of us, love. You will have your past, your new past." Rex began. "The old you is gone, the pain and suffering has been stripped away, and what remains is the complex collection of those experiences imprinted in your soul." a small smile crept on his handsome face.

"Life is school and there are countless of events that will be. Honor your past by moving forward." Havoc looked at Rex until a smile broke on his face. "You really are an idiot." Havoc finally said.

Rex raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps. Luckily, I am not alone."

The change of topic drove the melancholy away, and Havoc was glad for it. Then he remembered how little of the camp had they seen, and decided to change that.

"Let's look around." he said. Rex agreed and they continued walking, now heading deeper into the camp.

On the outskirts of the camps perimeter was Krin with one of his soldiers, keeping watch at the black dots far away. The cold wind didn't bother him, he felt the bitter cold of the Arctic and it hadn't bothered him. Much.

Beside him was the minion with the spots, his head now covered with his helmet, and he was slightly shivering in the cold. Krin produced a small ember with the snap of his fingers and set alight the small pile of sticks they took out of the camp.

"Still got it." Krin said with satisfaction. The other minion turned. "Ah, the son of Rip returns, yet again."

"That only proves I am of worthy stock, Jaruk, son of Liok." Krin retorted with a great amount of smugness. Jaruk gave a curt nod, conceeding.

The little fire's crackling soon overtook Jaruk's hearing and the dancing flames took possession of his vision. The tongues were further increased by the wild imagination that tumbled in the minion's mind. A minion rarely had time to think about anything else than his purpose and mission. Times like these were incredibly productive on the personality front.

Minions are born as mindless constructs of flesh, bone and life force, bent on fulfilling their master's bidding to their fullest. That purpose is still deeply imbedded in Jaruk and all of his other brethren. Upon that simple concept characters are built by different experiences and knowledge. Krin was one of the many more intelligent 'commander' minions, bred to construct a chain of command.

Unlike other beings, minions did not harbor any contempt or envy for their commanding officers. Minions were incredibly modular and effective soldiers when they had to be. Their frequent rough-housing was just a symptom of childish character still forming. Jaruk himself is several decades younger than Krin and has been a part of the Overlord's personal Vanguard his whole life. The parties were behind him and very much beaten out. You would only catch Krin partying dead.

But the wild imagination Jaruk had retained, and he had a feeling it will stay there for the rest of his life.

It, however, was and incredibly dangerous trait to have in this line of work. Krin was on his feet and his sword in hand, while Jaruk had only managed to blink. "_Kalasi,_ commander Krin." came a low hiss from behind Jaruk.

Krin sheathed his sword and gave a small bow. Jaruk stood up and faced the familiar lizard he saw in his fight just yesterday. Though ingrained in his very being, he restrained himself from kneeling before this pristi. The usage of the ancient commanding language was not forgotten, either.

"You speak the Word." Krin raised an non-existant eyebrow. His scaly skin had no hair whatsoever. "That is the only way to truly honor your service to our peoples."

The scale armor covering the lizard did little to protect him from the biting cold. Jaruk could smell the warming enchantment around him.

"Need something, sir." Krin said, adding the sir almost as an after thought. The training must be losing it's grip on Krin's manners.

Razz took a seat on the snow-covered ground beside the fire and dispelles his warming enchantment. "I feel responsible for my colleagues actions. I should have known that they might form a conspiracy after the omens from the Matron."

His slits were filled with remorse, for both the loss of his comrades and failure on his part to prevent it. Krin tossed a log into the fire, it was strong enough to catch onto a log, before responding.

"All we can do is lessen the damage and do damage control." replied Krin. Jaruk winced at the coldness. Razz trained his eyes on the minion.

"Have I shown disrespect?" he asked rather naively. Right there, the lizardman's true age has shown. He was old barely half a century, an incredibly young age to lead a whole section of races and be a powerful member of the Concil. Krin stood up and headed to the small peak over-looking the valley.

"Rest assured, you have shown none." he answered. Jaruk gestured for the lizard to stay there and that he will see what is bugging his commanding officer.

When they were sufficiently away to not be heard, and that was half way up the peak, did Jaruk ask. "What is with him that ticked you off?"

When he caught up to Krin's rapid pace, he spotted something falling to the ground really fast that left no mark. He turned Krin around to see the minion's eyes quivering and soaked with what could only be tears. The sight was like a blow to his stomach.

No minion has ever developed crying, it was useless. Characters were built out of necessity for cohesion as a unit, but crying had never been seen even amongst the most advanced. "When did it happen?"

Along with the tears acustomed to crying, came the strangled cry of grief. Jaruk felt his vascular system become flodded with adrenaline, the only way his body knew to react when faced with an unknown situation. Panic started to settle in, and his mind was becoming a jumble in it's attempts to find a logged procedure to this.

It came out empty, of course.

Two hands shook him out of the obviously flight response. Krin let go of him and blinked out the remaining burning tears. "I am sorry that you had to see that. It is just my yearly emotional discharge. I've been holding it in for more than a year, now."

Jaruk looked shell-shocked, as if he had been in combat for a week without stop. Krin sighed, inside he berated himself for not ordering the minion to stay with the pristi. The emotional burden had become too much that he had to get it out now. He hadn't let it out in a decade and was feeling he would fall apart.

"So...so you were crying and didn't tell anyone?" Jaruk asked, still not completely stable. "Every commander did a yearly discharge if in constant service. If we didn't we would fall apart."

"Really fall apart?"

"No." Krin shook his head. "On an emotional level. We would be unfit to lead and make proper decisions."

"Oh."

Krin rubbed his eyes and continued his ascent. "You go and make our guest comfortable, will you?"

"By the looks of things, he wants nothing more than be uncomfortable like us." Jaruk said on his way down, and both of them laughed.

Krin reached the peak with swift steps and gazed at the almost blindingly white valley and saw a dozen of black spots moving out of a conglomeration of other larger, rectangular spots.

"We've got company."

* * *

><p>The Burrow had it's life and colour sucked out by the recent events. The death of Harry had been a serious blow to the Weasely household and was on-the-mend when Voldemort had decided to strike. The reappearance of Harry was supposed to usher a time of comfort, but those hopes and dreams were quickly dashed into oblivion.<p>

On it's knees, the Order and the Burrow were dealt a death blow like no other. The murder of Albus Dumbledore. There were several unexplainable details involving the Headmaster's demise, the remains were identified as his. What no one knows is that Severus has been tight lipped about his presence at the murder scene.

But that didn't prevent Ron and his brothers to try and pry the Potions Master and get some information out of him, through any means necessary.

After Ron's sudden reappearance after the Harry, him and Hermione disappeared from St. Mungo's , he was silent and brooding. Fred and George tried to cheer up their little brother with various secret prank devices they had been creating behind their mother's back, but to no avail. Ron was permanently sullen.

While there was yet another useless Order meeting downstairs, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George were upstairs and out of sight and ear shot. That was true for neither of them. Ron was there just to satisfy somekind of redundant curiosity as to what they are talking about in the meeting.

Instead of listening, his mind wandered back to that strange place where he had cut ties with Harry for what felt to be for good. The more he thought, the more he realized how brash and impulsive he had acted towards Harry and Hermione. He left Hermione branded a traitor in his mind and now was regreting that decision.

Of what he heard from the meetings, Harry had been busy. Strange occurences had been happening all over England along with the strange shift in power inside the Ministry. The whole of England was vaguely aware of something coming, something furious and chaotic that would change everything.

The days were dull, bland and an annoyance when they should be out there, trying to find out what is that something and is it good or bad for everyone. Ron tried to remember every detail from his time with Harry and Hermione. He clawed and dug into his flegmatic brain, puching away everything strange and foreign until he settled upon onet thing he certainly knew of.

Draco Malfoy had been there. He had seen his face in the mess of both the memory's happenings and the fog of his own mind, He could never forget the ferret's face.

But still he came up short of what to do with that information. He wanted to do something, but how and what was beyond him. He was lost and back to square one. He grabbed his head in frustration and thundered back to his room, effectively blowing his sibling's cover in the process.

He heard the scattering beyond his door but no other noise. No warning, nothing. Everyone was so depressed they didn't even try to scold them for eavesdropping. Suddenly a tap on the door came. Ron debated wether should he open the door or feign sleep. He decided for the later and stealthly laid on the bed.

"We know you aren't sleeping, Ron." came Fred's voice. Ron kept quiet, they were probably bluffing. "Okay then, we're coming in." said George, though Ron couldn't be for certain. He groaned as the twins barged in without invitation.

"What do you want?" Ron moaned out. How their faces were smilling, they must've heard something juicy. "The greasy git is going to Malfoy Manor."

Ron rolled over and pushed his head into his pillow, now trying to really go to sleep. "So?" he asked despite wanting to end this conversation. "Me and Forge thought about seeing what he's got to do over there. You heard they found a huge pool of Malfoy's blood where Dumbledore died." Fred said. "For all we know, Malfoy could've killed Dumbledore."

Finally Ron rolled to face his brothers. "And why would he kill Dumbledore?"

Both George and Fred shrugged. Ron stifled a groan. "And you want me to come?"

"We will need your expertise on this one." George said in a serious tone.

Ron looked at him like he was crazy. "What do I know and you don't?"

"You met the 'new' Harry and his plans for what looks like a standard world domination plot, only with fancy words added to it." Fred made air quotes. "We have a feeling that we need to get to the bottom of this."

"You guys know we could probably get killed, right?"

"That didn't stop you from running into some crazy stuff with Harry." retorted Fred. Harry wasn't a tender term, the twins forced it to keep it the same, to keep the memory of that little knob-kneed hero alive. Ron would have snorted at that.

Ron had a feeling that they won't leave him be until he went with them, so he put on his clothes and snuck outside and out the wards. Snape had already apparated to the manor. Then they came to a halt. "Does anyone of you know Apparition?" Ron asked.

Fred and George looked at eachother with a wicked smile. "I do." both said in unison. Ron blanched. "But you aren't even Seventh years." he almost cried. Fred waved him off. "We learned it during the Christmas Holidays. It ain't hard."

"More like you two were lucky." Ron mumbled as Fred pulled him close and the feeling of being pulled through a tight tube almost knocked him out.

His face met gravel at the landing. Along with the pain came nausea. Harry's teleportation was much better than this, hands down. Fred pulled him up and settled him on the gravel driveway. Then came something. "How did you know where to Apparate?"

Both of his brother's shook their head. "Oh, Ron. Don't you think we haven't thought about that."

"Well, I dunno." Ron grumbled.

"We put a tracking bug so we know where he is at all times." Fred proudly said. "We planted it a week ago. The git has some really interesting places to visit."

"Whatever." Ron said. "Let's get this done."

The Malfoy Manor was nothing but green, surrounded with green hedges four metres high. Through purposeful holes in the hedge he saw albino peacocks struttign around like they own the place. All of the said holes were enchanted and going through them would have probably resulted in an accident. They finally rounded the edge and found themselves facing a thick wood before a wide field.

In the center of the field were two man-made ramps of dirt, and on top of them a pale figure wielding two small swords, twirling them around in a rather clumsy fashion. Ron and his brothers dropped to the floor and out of sight from the figure. Ron saw the two swords fly into the air and embbed themselves in the opposite ramp before the figure drew a longsword and moved fluidly with it.

Ron's jaw hit the ground when the figure turned and the pointed face of Draco Malfoy turned in his direction. Malfoy was to engrossed in his technique to spot either Ron or the twins. Around his sickly toned torso was a thick layer of bandaging with a steadily increasing crimson lateral streak until small trickles of blood started to drip down his thighs.

"Guess he is trying to finish the job." Fred said grimly from behind.

Beside the ramp on which Draco danced appeared the prominent figure of Lucius Malfoy. From the looks of things, he wasn't happy seeing his son straining his body to such limits.

"Draco, stop this instant." he said reprimandingly. Draco stopped and gently lowered the Malfoy sword to the pale green grass. Lucius vanished it somewhere with the flick of his wand. "I still do not understand how endangering yourself further is going to help you train."

Draco got down on his knees and eased onto the back of his heels, settled in a meditative pose. Just how Havoc showed him, he felt the tendrils thread from his core and to the weeping wound in his abdomen. The internal side has completely healed while the outside has remained effectively punctured. The pain numbed his muscles into submission and he was trying hard to concentrate under the scrutiny of his father.

He latched onto the small, microscopic blood vessels and closed them shut. Next he removed the stitches that were placed there by a house elf and wound his tendrils around the now slowly opening wound. He tugged as if he was knitting and pulled the wound closed. With a touch of healing magic he knew the flesh knit itself together and left a wide lateral scar in his stomach.

By the time Draco regained awareness of his surroundings, his fathr had already sent for a house elf the said stitches in place. "I am fine, father." Draco said a little bit hoarsely. He found himself on the ground and fatigued, as if he had been doing his routine training without stop for two days.

"You can barely lift yourself," Lucius snorted. "Whatever you did stopped the bleeding and sealed the wound, however."

Draco lifted his head and saw the house elf's large eyes looking in awe at the ugly scar. He wanted to swat away the annoying elf but his arms were drained of strength and he couldn't even keep his head lifted up.

Despite his protests, Draco was carried off back to the manor and settled in the wide living room when his father arrived with Severus at his heels.

"It is good to find you well, Draco." Snape said. Draco gave him a small tired smile and Snape's eyes had a curious glint in them. "I was not aware that Potter's little creatures had taken permanent residence." he said to Lucius in an accusing tone.

"His last visit tore the place down. He offered to do the repairs." Lucius answered with a small shrug. Snape shot Draco a glance that said they were going to talk about this particular topic when Lucius was not around. "I am sorry, but I have a meeting to attend to. It is really urgent."

When Lucius was out the door, Snape turned to Draco. "I see Voldemort's old plot to take over the Ministry has changed hands."

"Havoc's leading it now. Well, more father with what remains of the Death Eaters I hadn't killed. It is all for a smooth transition." Draco wished he could move, that his limbs weren't made of lead. The intense glare from Severus was threatening to shrivel him up.

"That is the problem," Severus said in a low tone. "What does this transition mean?"

"We assumed that Weasley told you. Havoc did tell him what he plans. If he meant to harm you, he wouldn't have told anyone of you." Draco reasoned.

"He intends to change the whole of England into this Pristi race? I find it hard to believe." Snape almost snorted. Suddenly Draco's limbs flared with new energy and he steadily lifted himself out of the armchair. "Then let me show you."

Between Severus and Draco rose up a stone plate with a glowing symbol chiseled into it. Severus couldn't keep his blank mask in place as the plate had effectively broken through the extensive wards placed around the Manor. "The whole of earth is under Pristi control if they so wished it, Godfather. Please, step onto the plate."

Severus watched Draco's face for a long moment before stepping onto the plate and feeling his very being be disassembled and become one with the entire magic that seemed to flow everywhere. It only lasted a moment, or he thought it lasted that short, but he found himself whole and stumbling between two long rows of statues that looked like knights of old.

The grandeur was overwhelming, the rich decorations were stifling to the eyes. Severus did, however, notice the largest knight move and look at him with two blue orbs. It was sentient and wary of his presence.

"Master Malfoy, welcome back to the Crucible." came a croaking voice from behind Severus. He turned and saw one of those gremlin-like creatures stand before Draco with a satisfied and quizzical look in his bulging eyes.

"Thank you, Rip. Though my visit will be short."

"Ah, yes. Your father has been very productive in the past week. The Minister is the last barrier to be breached." Rip said, then he turned to look at Severus.

"Hmm, you are the Potion's Master from Hogwarts, are you not?" it asked politely. A quality his brethren distinctly lacked.

"I am." Severus asnwered with equal measure.

"Rip, I have to be going now," Draco began. "Will you acustom my Godfather to Sire Havoc's plans, he seems to be at a loss even after that red head told him everything." he smirked at Severus as he disappeared. Severus kept himself from growling and vowed retribution would be quick and hard.

"A Godfather? Such a noble title, indeed," Rip said as he waddled over to Severus. "Please, follow me to the library."

Severus watched the creature move in that fur coat down the wide and tall hall before following. He truly hoped he would finally understand what went through Potter's mind with this.

* * *

><p>The cell was dank and utterly inhospitable. Rats and what seemed to be some organic substance dripping off the ceiling festered in one corner that used to be a place where one relieved oneself. Zoran felt the enchanted shackles bite into his wrists and his feet getting incredibly tired from all the standing.<p>

Jorgen was wide awake and pushing, proding and feeling the blick walls for any signs of weakness. The dwarf was, despite being a wizard, naturally strong to lift a grown man, as he had frequently demonstrated on being able to easily hold Zoran's behind on his back for hours when Zoran couldn't stand anymore. In those intervals he searched for a way out, trying to find any weakspot in the cell and found none each time.

"Don't waste your energy, Jorgen. This cell is sealed tight." Zoran said. The cell was sealed in more than one way, the smell never lessened.

"Oh, such naivety." Jorgen responded somewhere in the dark. "Even the greatest keeps and strongholds fell by the strike of a pebble. This is a renovated castle, and as such has a complex structure that always has a critical flaw."

Zoran rolled his eyes and he was aware the dwarf could see him perfectly well. "And get the whole castle go down on top of us."

Jorgen's clothes rustled in what Zoran assumed to be a shrug. "This section would come down, yes. But not the whole castle."

"Either way we're dead if we try anything."

"You got anything to add?" Jorgen asked in genuine curiosity.

Zoran pursed his lips. "How much do you know about enchantments?"

"A little bit. Why?" Jorgen stepped over to his chained comrade, already knowing that Zoran was thinking about the shackles. "Do you think they are sloppy with the shackles as much as they are with the swords?" Zoran asked.

Jorgen gently touched the shackle on Zoran's and slightly winced from the hiss Zoran issued. Even in this dark place, Jorgen could see the lacerations in Zoran's wrist. If they didn't get removed soon, an infection would set in quickly. Getting the shackles off would probably take a long time, so Jorgen opted to sanate the wound first.

"I was thinking." Jorgen answered as he ripped the cleanest part of his vest. "Maybe the unstable magic is there on purpose, to cause as much damage in as little time as possible."

Zoran had to agree. The theory was very much plausible. Underestimating these people would be the last thing they wanted to do. How they managed to kidnap him and Jorgen under Karlo's nose was not an easy feat. The man was paranoia extraordinare, nothing went past him without being scrutinized to the smallest detail.

"Let's try it, anyway." Jorgen said and started to feel around the shackle. To an ordinary wizard the shackle would feel just like that, a shackle. Dwarves, however, were a tad more attuned to the magical flow and could barely sense the distilled malicious intent surrounding the corroded bind. Just slightly feeling it was not enough to properly gauge it's structure or properties. Jorgen understood where Zoran's role came into play, if he could do anything with the binds.

Apparently he could as he felt something intensive brush against his fingers, and the now blanched face on Zoran spoke volumes about how much pain and strain he was feeling just going against the enchantments.

"Uh..." Zoran ground out. "It's got shielding properties set in a star shape." his words came out in gasps, and Jorgen could feel the tendrils leave the shackle alone.

Jorgen cupped the shackle as gently as he could without causing much discomfort to his partner, thinking about the shielding. By it's structure it looked to be a human-made protective sigil of wards, rather fragile against some arcane types of magic, but overall extremely effective in it's designated purpose. Dispelling this would leave the bondage curse wide open and easy to properly dispel.

The shielding was far beyond the wand-less capabilities of Jorgen to achieve on his own, but he didn't want to tire Zoran even more. It was obvious captivity underground in a low-magic area was causing withdrawal symptoms in the young lad.

Being a Pristi was not always a walk in the park. Despite being an ancient and powerful race, they were far from the ultimate beings that stories and actions had weaved into history. The Pristi reminded him of the old Greek mythology of Titans being overthrown by their children. Perhaps the Greeks are the only ones who had most accurately documented the beginnings of the wars and withdrawal of the Pristi Empire into obscurity.

"I think we can break the shield together." Zoran said with confidence. Jorgen frowned, unwilling to put Zoran through very possibly needless pain and suffering. "Are you sure, lad?" Jorgen asked. "Your flow is a trickle, and if we fail, ye could die."

"Let's keep looking to the bright side, shall we?"

"Alright. I'll need you to attack the four critical wards that keep the whole shield in a formation. I will try to disable as much of the enforcing wards as possible."

"The center ones?" Zoran had no idea which were critical. Jorgen nodded before realizing Zoran couldn't see him nod. "Yes, those ones."

Zoran took several deep breaths, preparing himself for the vicious and furious rebounds from the wards. He felt Jorgen's stale breath on his face as the dwarf had to stand on his toes to even touch the shackles. This was officially the worst day in his life, and he wondered if there will come about another, more worse in his hopefully millenia-long life ahead.

"Here's something for you." Jorgen said and Zoran felt the leather of Jorgen's belt slide into his mouth. He bit on it and took his last breath. "Go." came Jorgen's warm voice from the darkness.

At first nothing came, no searing pain reaching into his very core when his tendrils shot for the manacle. The moment his lightning speed tendrils were detected to be somewhere they shouldn't be, like molten metal, the pain thundered down the already squirming tendrils and into Zoran's peripheral nerves. Zoran pushed his screaming core against the pain and felt the wards like huge, bulbous spots settled in a star shape like before. Four of those center spots were intersected with almost a dozen connections, each leading to it's respective supporting ward.

Zoran would speak his progress if his throat wasn't occupied in holding back screams. Jorgen's fingers looked like a strange mesh of dots forming each finger, from them darted two almost fluid tendrils each and attacked the surrounding wards. Their connections disappeared and the energy engorgement of the four was dramatically lowered. The dozens of Zoran's ethereal tendrils assaulted the brightly glowing spots like a giant octopus trying to penetrate impossibly sturdy eggs.

Their spikes stabbed at the hard surface repeatedly, speeding up their attack with each thrust until they reached a manical speed befitting a desperate creature fighting for survival. When the first cracks appeared, the thrust became so fast the tendrils looked to have stopped in Zoran's mind.

His hands and feet were starting to go numb from the pain, he could feel his very core start to crack under the waves of malignant energy. It thrummed, resonated broken vibrations and sent discord across Zoran's whole system. His mind was turning dark, shutting down and hiding from the onslaught he had exposed it to. He couldn't feel his teeth anymore, too.

Finally the first spot's surface chipped and it went dark. More support wards were shutdown as Jorgen didn't need to focus on the farthest wards, making Zoran's task much easier. Then the second one broke and now the two spots were under attack with Zoran's whole arsenal. They didn't take long to break like their predecessors.

"The wards are down!" Jorgen happily exclaimed as he felt the repulsing force around the shackle crumble under his fingertips. Suddenly intense heat sprung in his face and searing metal fragments embedded themselves in his chest and face. He fell on his back onto the hard stone floor, blinking back the intense flash that was inflicted upon his chornea.

When his vision returned, he lifted himself up and gently brushed off the almost needle-like fragments out of his face and rather thick coat. His skin was thick and rough as a boars, such little object did little damage to him. But what damage Zoran had suffered, Jorgen feared to fathom.

Hanging on one chained shackle, Zoran was panting and producing noises a wounded man would be making. Jorgen rushed to his side and gently lifted the now-released hand. He gasped when he saw that half of the flesh around his wrist was gone, revealing ivory bone and cartilage. Where the flesh remained was where Jorgen had wrapped his make-shift bandages the thickest. As he looked at the wound, he cursed himself for not realising that the malicious force's purpose was twofold: to cause pain and restrain the captive, and potentially wound the said captive should he be powerful enough to break his binds. A pristi without a hand or both was severely handicapped.

"Is it off? I can't feel my legs and arms." Zoran deliriously asked. Jorgen ripped more of his clean vest and heavily bandaged the hand while it was still numb. "Yes, it's off." Jorgen said with intense regret that it pierced through the painful haze that clouded Zoran's mind.

"Why do you sound so unhappy?" he asked, feeling panic rise from deep within him. Jorgen sighed in the darkness and finally the iconic smell of blood reached his nostrils. "I can't lie to you, lad. Your hand is in a bad shape."

Zoran swallowed, making sure that he wouldn't let out an undignified cry when he opened his mouth. "How bad is it?"

"I don't think you will ever move your wrist. Half of the flesh is gone, and if we don't get a healer soon, you will lose it entirely." Zoran winced at the brutal, no sugar coating estimate of his wound, but he did ask for it. "Tell me to not ask for your opinion on such things, Jorgen."

"Let's get you on your feet, your shoulder will become dislocated if you stay like this." Jorgen didn't as much as grunt when he lifted Zoran and put himself under him. Zoran let out a sigh of relief as the tension in his shoulder disappeared.

"We can't remove the other shackle, I guess." Zoran murmured. "No, only if you wish to risk your other hand, too." Jorgen replied. Zoran feverishly shook his head. The possibility of losing one hand was enough for a life time. In his delirium, his mind wandered as to how they'd ended up in this situation. He could very much blame all of this upon Havoc for sending him on this mission, but for some reason he didn't deem the kid responsible. He could've just said no and been done with it, he doubted that Havoc would've threatened or forced him. For what he knew, Havoc wasn't that kind of person.

"What do you think of the kid?" he asked the dwarf beneath him.

"The young Immortal?"

"Yeah."

"He is an enigma. Always has been, and I believe his ways would continue for a long time. Perhaps until he becomes one with the earth." Jorgen answered. "Do you believe he will make a good Emperor?" he countered.

"It's too early to say for sure, but I've got a good feeling." Zoran said. He closed his eyes and hoped sleep would reach him sooner than the pain. "Good night, Jorgen."

"Sleep well, Zoran Brand."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20 is done, I've got far more work to do than I've anticipated. I do hope you guys find my characters atleast a little intriguing, though they must feel really one-dimensional right now. 8.5 k words is quite a load, although I have read fanfics with chapter far longer than mine.<strong>

**I will not estimate how myn chapters remain, depends on where the story takes me, though I don't think it will break 30. Again, thanks for sticking with my story, reviews are always awesome to have. Leave your thoughts and we shall see each other in Chapter 21!  
><strong>


	22. Of Gods and Men and Minions

**After a bit of delibiration, I've decided to continue with the story. My entire imagination has been taken by this story and I have to finish it. Sorry for acting so stupidly lately, I will finish this!**

**R&R and have fun!**

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><p>Chapter 21<p>

Of Gods and Men...and Minions

Razz Kota kept his demeanour cool and collected. Inside he was rather frustrated for being late to the 9 o'clock announcement and wished this was not happening right now. Beside him stood Krin and Jaruk, both wary of the small group of fur-clothed humans riding on stubby ponies. They looked tribal in nature and spoke in their own language.

The one who did the talking had the most horns on his fur helmet and rode the most sturdy pony. What added to Razz's frustration was that he couldn't understand a word the man was spouting, but he could determine by the tone that the man was incredibly angry.

Krin was tapping his lip, giving understanding nods. Jaruk just stood there, looking brain dead when it came to giving any useful suggestions.

"I believe, and this is a long shot, that they are asking us as to where did the giant group go."

"Then say that we ssslaughtered them." Razz said.

Krin looked at Razz for a moment. "Is that what you wish?"

Razz nodded. Krin stepped forward and coughed to prepare his vocal cords for what might be their greatest challenge. He produced distorted sounds at first. No flow and disjointed, unlike the chief's speech. Quickly, though, Krin perfected his method and was somewhat fluidly repeating some of the words and sounds and adding some different ones into the mix. The chief pondered what had been said.

He spoke a long string, his motions becoming more expressive. Krin was again nodding, understanding every word that had been said. Razz watched in awe at the minion's linguistic skills. The minions were truly impressive creatures. The chief stopped talking and awaited their response, on whatever he had said.

"It seems that his tribe was enslaved by the giants for many generations. Said they came with the giants from the north and settled here several decades ago." Krin began. "What went to 'greet' us was just a scouting party and there are more back in the village. If I am correct, he has asked us for help."

When Krin finished he looked at Razz and saw demonic fire burning in the lizard's eyes. He already knew the answer. Without pause, he said he agreed to help them and that the help will come in a days time. The chief slid down the horse and drew a dagger made out of bone and fang. Jaruk placed his hand on the sword on his hip and watched the man's form for any signs of tension that would indicate he would quickly strike.

This time the chieftain spoke in a low, respective tone as he gingerly handed the dagger to Krin. Krin gave a low bow as he accepted the offering and watched the group ride until they were nothing more but dots in the distance. "I'm not one for personal effects, but I think I might hold onto this." Krin murmured to himself.

Minion commanders rarely kept objects from their enemies or from their history, they were useless and distracting.

He turned and saw Jaruk have a very worried expression. Springing so much on the poor minion was taking it's toll on Jaruk. "Shall we go and notify the Concil?"

"No," Razz finally spoke. "This will be my jurisssdiction." his hiss sounded like the sizzling of tempered steel. "Shall I ask Sire Havoc for aid?" Krin asked.

Razz shook his head. "Theresss no need. Thank you."

They stopped at the campsite, it's fire had gone out completely and not even embers remained. Razz gave a low bow and left the two minions to their sentry duty. Jaruk had once again set up a small pyre which Krin had lit up again with the snap of his fingers. Then Jaruk thought of something. "How come you are out here with me?"

Krin must've expected this question much sooner as he had an answer ready. "Its for my discharge, and I like spending time with my troops from their position."

Jaruk knew some of the commanders that had that kind of approach. They were little and far in between, but those that were, they were remembered as great and compassionate leaders. Only by those who were under them, the rest of the world forgot it the moment they died. Such thought only brought on rage in Jaruk.

"That's a noble effort." he said, giving no sign whatsoever of the anger his memories had flared up inside him.

"You will keep what happened to yourself, Jaruk." Krin more said than asked. Jaruk looked at Krin in confusion when he remembered the crying. "Don't worry, sir. Your secret is safe with me."

Just a little, the corner of Krin's mouth was tugged upward into a crooked smile. The first smile in the last couple of centuries. And Jaruk felt honored to witness this event and that he had been the cause of his old commander's happiness. He twirled his thin fingers in an elaborate gesture and two mugs filled to the brim with brew appeared in his hands.

"Indeed, your secret is safe with me." Jaruk said as he brought the mug to his lips.

* * *

><p>The announcement was everything that Havoc hadn't already heard from the meeting early in the morning. He wasn't part of the Concil, so he was among the civilians on the long tables, conversing about everything except about what was being said from the dais in the back. Unlike the other tents that were actually gateways into buildings, this one was a proper tent and gave the whole event a more realistic and rustical feeling to the whole tournament. He wore his cowl to hide his very recognizable pale features, only his eyes glowed from within while Rex was too unrecognizable from before to be paid any attention.<p>

Rex was about to bring a goblet of beer to his lips when he stopped to look at something. His red eyes then lit up with understanding, and inner rage. Havoc didn't need to look at Rex's face to know he was angry: his anger slammed into Havoc like a tidal wave of magma.

_"What is it?"_ he asked his obviously furious lover and soul mate.

_"It is Kristina. She looks to have been beaten severely."_

Havoc barely contained himself from turning in the direction Rex was looking at. He hadn't seen her since the Concil meeting back in Vienna. He had also sent her brother Zoran and the dwarf to find out from where the Pristi Hunters were getting their weapons from. They are still to report in.

_"Rip, has Zoran sent word of his progress?"_

He waited for a response. Meanwhile he steadily turned as if reaching for a platter of food behind him and he saw the familiar form of Kristina sitting in a dark alcove like the one Rex had taken refuge the last time they were here. Her muggle clothes did little to cover her physical well being. Her almost bronze face was marred with bruises and cuts that Havoc was intimately familiar to a point it hurt him to look at her.

_"They had not sent any word, Sire."_ came Rip's response.

Havoc stood up from his seat and started for the large entrance of the tent. _"Stay there, Rex. I will go along the wall."_

_"There is one thing I must tell you Sire-" _Rip started when it was drowned out by sounds of a scuffle from his side.

_"Rip Is everything alright?"_ Rex cut into the conversation.

_"Oh, the Potions Master was being a tad nosey." _

Havoc raised an eyebrow as he made a 90 degree turn just at the entrance and fading into the shadows around the crimson wall of the tent. Severus Snape was in the Crucible, close to the Tower Heart. Severus Snape was in his ancestral home!? That was far beyond sacrilege, and Havoc was fighting against the urge to blast back to Crucible and very likely impale Snape with his bare fist. No, calm down. Now is not the time to be angry.

_"We will speak of this later."_

Rex was about to speak when Havoc cut him off. _"No, this is my problem and I will solve it in my own time. First things first."_

Pride came from Rex and Havoc couldn't let himself but smile at the praise. He was halfway to Kristina and now he could see the full extent of the damage. Her eyes were two purple-yellow large circles with her nose having a huge cut on the bridge that showed a formerly broken nose. He concentrated his anger on this particular issue.

The aching woman was so concentrated on hiding herself from the public that she had neglected to be vigilant about behind her. Havoc sneaked into the alcove from the hard right and was right behind her. Though he wouldn't have been able to sneak by her without this vault of knowledge that Arthur had provided for him. He wondered what had the ancient Overlord had more in store for him.

"Are you alright?" he gently asked. Kristina almost jumped out of the alcove. She turned and the look of fear on her face made Havoc wince in sympathy. She looked just like him when Dursley beat him, the face of abandoned hope.

Havoc pulled down the cowl to let her see that it was only him. She sat back down, her whole body shaking like a twig in the wind. The primordial and animalistic rage bubbled inside Havoc, she reminded him so much of his past that he felt as if he was looking his past self. He was done with the past, and he didn't need anymore reminders of it.

"It's you." Kristina lowly said, dipping her head to hide the bruises. Havoc reached out and put his hand under her chin, and lifted her face to see it more clearly. She didn't even struggle against him. She truly was broken. She was broken from the day he met her. It just didn't show so clearly like it did now. He placed his other hand onto her eyes and urged his energy to heal the bruising.

When he removed his hands the flesh was it's former pink. Next he placed his hand upon the badly healed nose and gently broke the nose and realligned it to where it should be. Kristina let out a restrained yelp but kept her face steady. After mere seconds her entire face was just like it should be, radiating and bright. Despite the healing, Kristina was still afraid of looking him in the eye.

"Who did this to you?" Havoc asked as he took her hands in a comforting hold. He looked around and was inadvertently drawn to Rex's gaze amidst the gasping crowd as a very troubling detail was revealed by the speech.

"I can't tell you, he was almost killed. I can't lose him." Kristina almost sobbed. "Your father." Havoc said with a low growl. Kristina looked at him with wide eyes. "Please! Don't hurt him, please!" her tone was becoming hysterical and the people nearest to the alcove were slightly turning their heads in their direction.

Havoc shushed her and held her close to his chest, feeling rather awkward comforting a grown woman who has much more experience than him. Though this woman looked to have rarely been comforted. The longer he looked at her sobbing form, the more Havoc vowed to deal out a horrible vengeance on Hrvoje Brand. How the man could treat his children, Havoc doubted Zoran was any better, was beyond him. If he ever had children, he would kill anyone if they just said something wrong in their presence.

But how would he have have kids of his own? Rex had never known his son and was forced to watch him grow without him, that much Havoc knew of Rex's past, and Havoc himself was male and neither couldn't bear children. But maybe it was for the best. He wasn't even sure he was ready to even think of taking care of a child. Rex might be ready, But Havoc was only seventeen.

"Please..." Kristina whispered when she pulled away and brushed tears from her cheeks.

"How can you care for him? He has done nothing but hurt you and your brother." Havoc couldn't believe his ears. Kristina looked at him with her tawny amber eyes, she was pleading. Why she was doing it made Havoc sick in his stomach. She was begging because she was scared to death for this man she called her father, despite all those misgivings and pain, she still considered that manipulating creature her father.

"I cannot let you get hurt because of me," Havoc whispered with a bitter taste in his mouth. "Will you take care of Zoran, just get him out of there and leave us be."

Havoc grimaced at her and stood up, his eyes starting to glow with fury. "When I am Emperor, there will be no place for beings such as Hrvoje Brand, not in my Empire or anywhere on this earth."

_"Calm down, love. You're attracting attention." _Rex warned through the bond. Havoc sighed, let his fury simmer and sat back down. He took Kristina's hand again and gave a comforting squeeze. "I cannot let him continue doing this to you. When I'm Emperor I will be able to remove him legitimately and give you the title as head of the Brand Dynasty."

The woman looked at him in horror, the very thought of her father being jailed or even executed made her entire body shake and quiver with fear. She was about to start begging him again when Havoc pulled her hands and held them. "There is nothing you can do to change my mind." he said and looked Kristina in the eyes.

With that Havoc left her a weeping mess just as the speech ended. His mind sharp and hot, and focused on Snape's presence in his home.

* * *

><p>Voldemort thought of his past, of the processes he had put his past body through. The pain was still vivid in his mind despite it being long ago. They were character defining to say the least. He remembered the ritual perfectly to every minor detail that had to be in place for constructing a Horcrux. A recently commited murder, a torn soul doing so and the necessary object to house the torn part of the soul. Right now it looked basic, he could do it in his sleep if he wanted to. Divulging the arcane secret was another matter all together.<p>

Now he had to come about reversing the process, how to reassemble the once torn soul, and is it even possible to achieve something like this? Had the pieces of his soul been destroyed forever upon their container's destruction? Or had they been dragged into plane of the dead? Only Death herself knew, and she was a very isolated creature. Her only 'documented' appearance was inscribed in Beedle the Bard's song of the three brothers and their Deathly Hallows.

One he possessed and had turned it into a Horcrux, the stone. The Elder Wand, now in unaware posession of Havoc along with the cloak. Three artifacts of Death herself were in the grasp of a possibly most powerful creature in the world. Yes, Havoc harbored potential far greater than Voldemort had ever anticipated. He could feel the power at the boy's disposal every time he was drawn for battle, and in some twisted way enjoyed being used to deal out death with such devastating power. And for a reason that eluded Voldemort, he wasn't afraid of that power, he did not feel threatened by it in the least.

How much did Havoc hate him? A lot, most assuredly. Havoc was one of the obstacles him and Miss. Granger will have to pass in order to regain his body. Leaving him with a body was probably the last thing Havoc would think of when he thought of him. Voldemort could only hope Granger would be able to persuade him, Havoc would be adamant even with the fact he and the girl had sealed an Unbreakable Vow.

The Unbreakable Vow. He had agreed to it without thinking, his mind only set on achieving his determined goal. This was a spell he had never thought of bypassing during his tenure as the Dark Lord. In his present state, he would very likely survive the results of a broken Vow and piecing together his soul only brought him further risk. He was essentially sacrificing an immortal life he had thought to be what he wanted and then realised how empty it was, for life of servitude to the offspring of his most hated enemy and living his newly awaken desires.

He stood in the white expanse, never tiring and never sleeping. In his mind's eye he could see the rack upon he was hanged so delicately by Havoc, the boy obviously respected the weapon for some reason. He looked at the abandoned bedroom, he had taken note of the spartan arrangement of furniture. On either side of the rack were the armors: Rex's intimidating war machine and Havoc's armor crafted for both style and battle.

The person he was looking for was Granger and she was unlikely to be inside Havoc's bedroom, she had no reason. Perhaps he could get someone to pass on his message? Voldemort had not tried to manipulate the environment lest Havoc decided to do something far worse than keep him inside the sword.

An inkwell that the man was using was left precariously on the edge of the small table. Voldemort reached for it with his tanned hand even though he couldn't physically reach it and closed his fist around the mental image. Nothing happened.

"I order you to move." he said calmly, fully confident in his power of telepathic manipulation. Now the inkwell heeded his will and stirred, slowly moving ever closer to the edge. Voldemort had calculated the seconds needed to fully gain control over the object: a whole minute. Too long, but it served it's purpose.

The inkwell crashed and spilled the ink over the floorboards with a resounding shatter.

Seconds later the door opened and four minions jumped inside, their weapons pointed in every direction. One of them stepped over to the ink spill and felt the glass fragments of the inkwell. The creature then sniffed it and instantly turned it's head in Voldemort's direction, and directly looking Voldemort in the eye, if it were possible.

"The soul inside caused this." the minion said with complete confidence. The other three looked at him, unsure if questioning their Sire's soul-binding skills was wise. "I shall go." the minion said and was about to leave when Voldemort slammed the door closed. This was a complication he had not anticipated. One would have been fine, but four was a problem.

"Okay..." said the first minion who revealed Voldemort as the culprit of the broken inkwell. Voldemort inwardly groaned, now he had to gain the minion's trust to get them to find Hermione. Instead of speaking to them, he tried to contact the witch.

Surprisingly enough, the girl immediately responded. "Yes?"

"Please come see me, there is a situation you might want to remedy if you wish to preserve the Vow." Voldemort smirked, the girl must be high tailing it right now. Just as Voldemort had predicted, Hermione was in the room in just a minute, winded and her hair a mess from the running. She also spectacularly failed to keep herself from looking that she had been running.

The minions were surprised when she had entered and were about to say something when she cut them off. "Yes, yes. I know. Everything is fine."

The minion's mouth closed shut, they all nodded and walked out. Hermione grimaced at the ink spill and cleaned it up with a flick of her hand. She was becoming rather skilled with her powers. She looked at the sword and felt awkward when she spoke. "What is it?"

"Have you ever heard of Horcruxes?"

* * *

><p>The castle was surrounded by the orange construction plastic mesh, doing little to prevent teenagers and homeless people to invade its once pristine confines. That's what the muggles thought it was. Beyond the Muggle repelling and obliviate wards along with the illusionary charms, the castle was still complete in all it's glory from the day it was finished and it's halls were graced by wizards.<p>

The castel was surrounded by a vast field with a single road leading to it. A kilometer away was a small rural town which avoided the castle for obvious reasons. Anyone approaching it would be spotted while crossing the field, and Russell was thinking of a plan how to get him, Karlo and the dozen minions across without tripping any alarms. Sieging a castle was one thing, infiltrating one was oh so much harder.

"Does the castle have any escape tunnels?" Karlo asked. It was a good question. Russell drew up a incredibly ancient floor plan of the said castle, wizard and pristi scribes were incredibly dilligent in preserving every bit of information. The floor plan was mostly outdated, the castle was from the thirteenth century and was frequently revised over the centuries. It's base, however, was more or less the same.

"No escape tunnels." Russell traced the base and found no extensions that would look like a proper escape tunnel. Though there was described a sewage connection. Karlo noticed the path, his face grim but interested. "We could use the sewers."

"I am afraid that is our only option, unless any of you fancy a good old fashioned charge at the gates?" Russell jokingly said. The minions laughed in sympathy. "This is no time for jokes." Karlo hissed.

Russell kept smiling, but his eyes were not. they were cold and hard. "Some of these guys are barely a day old and have more discipline than you. This might even be their last day." Russell spoke, his voice sharp and cutting. "Show some respect for those who sacrifice their lives for you."

Karlo was about put in his own share of scathing retorts, but Russell didn't want to hear it. "Silence. I will not heed the words of a man who can't keep his emotions in place."

In silence the group rounded the field through the surrounding woods until they found a small stream, and with it the entrance into the sewer system of the castle. It was a wide pipe made out of stone through which a grown man could barely fit even if he were emaciated and naked. This was a problem.

"Now what?" Karlo angrily murmured to himself.

"Did you really expect us to crawl through a medieval sewage pipe?" Russell shook his head. "All we have to do is send a couple of minions in to set up a tunnel through the wards and we teleport inside without them knowing."

Karlo raised an eyebrow despite his face being covered by his cowl. "And why won't they notice their wards being breached?"

"We have been fighting wizards for millenia. We've developed methods." Russell almost dead panned. Karlo restrained a growl, he hated this man. He hate the fact he was depending on this man's leadership skills and prowess to get Zoran out okay.

Without protest, the four smallest minions stripped out of their armor and only carried their swords and peculiar stone each. Russell sat down on a fallen tree and continued to study the floor plan. Karlo kept his distance and set his eyes on the castle rising between the trees. And damning every being that had come in his way until now.

Far way, both Russell and Karlo could feel a minute, but distinct shift in the wards surrounding the castle in an impenetrable bubble. Russell stood and put on his helmet, completing the heavy armored variant of a crusader. They stepped over to the pipe with the minions behind them. "Draw swords!"

The woods were filled with the sounds of metal being drawn out of their scabbards. "Let's go." Russell said and stepped forward. His leg dissolved and as he went forward more and more of his body went the leg's way until he was gone. Karlo and the minions followed and found themselves in a cramped deserted hall.

The minions had carried with them their comrades armor and the four dressed in record time. Russell looked at them with satisfaction and gave them a gesture of a good job before leading the way. Surprisingly, the infrastructure was the same as the floor plans with a few additions. Voices came from the corner and Russell stopped the group and looked in that direction.

Two robed men were conversing as they walked. Russell and Karlo cast disillusionment charms on everyone and watched the two stop at the intersection and suddenly turn and walk into the hall where the entire group was. Russell wanted to keep this quiet but if it had to be done, so be it.

He was about to lunge at the two men when they reached the spot where the minions started but they didn't walk into anyone. They kept on walking and talking until they took another turn and were out of sight. A collective breath was expelled and Russell's love for minions swelled. Like a unit, they traversed the mostly abandoned halls until they reached the stairs leading into the dungeons.

Suddenly many footsteps thundered down the hall and everyone slammed themselves against the walls, and still invisible. At the far end of the hall, men in black capes with the masks walked in two rows, between them walked a tall figure made out of black steel and in chains. It's head had spikes protruding from it's gleaming scalp and the front had three long lateral slits from which wafted a strange mist.

On it's metal exterior was a white heraldic tabard with the hunter coat of arms upon it's chest. Russell and Karlo could sense the evil residing within it, cold, damp and dead came to both their minds. Sickness prevailed in the metal shell, and eagerly awaiting to be unleashed. A dementor.

The legs moved with airy quality and incredibly slowly. Dementors had no legs and whatever it had must have been chained to move the legs. A restrained dementor was never a good thing.

Russell hoped that Karlo had reigned in his emotions.

The men in capes gave no sign of noticing something amiss in the hall and passed by. They were halfway through when the imprisoned dementor stopped and raised it's head. A horrid rickety and whistling sound came as it smelled the air. It started to fight against it's restraints, and nearly tossed the men holding the chains. One of them whispered something and the suit became stock still like a statue.

Russell stood plastered to the wall, just a meter away from the suit and could hear the savage banging coming from the inside. The bangs turned in Karlo's direction, it had smelled the intense emotions roiling inside the man, and Russell cursed his luck.

"It won't calm down." one of them men holding the chains said. The one who activated the restraints waved away. "Levitate it, the prisoner awaits."

As ordered, the men levitated the suit and it's occupant without a word. They soon descended the narrow steps and into the dank darkness of the dungeons. The group followed silently. "Why hadn't we attacked then and now?" Karlo hissed when he felt Russell walk beside him. "We have no idea where the prisoners are. If we had attacked now, we would have been slaughtered before even getting to the prisoners."

In silence they followed the grim executioner and it's wardens. The cells were all run down and looked to be barely capable of holding a mere human. Karlo had noticed, thank to his well developed spatial awareness that they were going in a spiral and that soon would reach the center of the base. And indeed they had.

The party stopped at a long row of cells in far better shape then the rest. The dementor was now absolutely livid, sensing so much emotion roilling around it. It was turned to face one of the cells. "Okay, now." Russell said and remained invisible when the fight erupted. Sprays of blood showered him and his ears rang with cries of pain and surprise.

The man controlling the restraints was deftly dueling a minion who was not even half his size. He was about to cleanly decapitate the creature with his wicked enchanted sword when Russell had reached him. He held him in a choke hold and waited until the man passed out. With that done, Russell joined in the fray. Both sides refrained from using explosive spells but that didn't stop them from using every other manner of spell known to man.

Men fell under blade while minions were blasted away with hexes and the Killing Curse. Russell felt like a walking tank as the spells blasted into him, drained to nullify their effects. When it became close, the hunters drew their swords if they hadn't already and were using wicked swipes and thrusts. Their experience was, however, too small to beat Russell's of a couple of centuries.

The conflict went on and the dementor's prison was like a post everyone was fighting for. The Dementor inside was screaming and screeching. The group of twenty or so hunters were dead or dying on the dirty floor of the dungeon. A few minions laid on the floor, all killed by the Killing Curse. Russell grieved, but that had to wait.

Karlo tore down the wards around the cell like a rabid animal and rushed into the cell. Jorgen stood beside a limp form of Zoran, holding the young man up. The first thing Karlo had spotted was the thick bandage on Zoran's left hand. "He needs a healer, now." Jorgen said urgently.

Russell stepped inside and unlocked the remaining shacke with the key he took off the unconscious guard. They rushed out of the cell and saw that the minions had already set up a way out of the wards. When outside, Karlo, Jorgen and Zoran were the first to disappear through apparition while Russell decided to stay until the portal arrived.

The wizards were flying on their brooms into the sky and were on their way to engage the intruders when the large plate arrived and the man and his soldiers disappeared.

* * *

><p>The Crucible had the air of impending doom about it. The events were so interesting Vigil had both of his eyes observing the discussion from both angles.<p>

Havoc stood with his hands crossed over his chest, glaring both at Rip and Snape. Rex put a calming hand on his shoulder. "I assume my advisor has told you everything?"

Snape's face was blank. "He was about done when you arrived."

"So there is no need for your continued presence here. Be gone." Havoc almost growled.

Nobody moved. "I cannot leave until you've stopped this madness."

"You are wearing thin my generosity, Snape." Havoc growled. "Despite all the hardships you've caused me, I am willing to let you go with the information. Did you even tell him everything, Rip?"

Rip nodded in confirmation. "You consider the extinction of a magical race that has been here since the beginning of time and had given birth to you sorry creatures a far better alternative than the rise of a more fair and stable world?"

"You are no better than Voldemort, Potter-" Snape began when Havoc stepped forward until their faces were inches apart. "I am beyond that wretched monster."

"Me becoming Emperor is my birthright, and it is my duty to achieve prosperity for my race that had been systematically eradicated by wizards. Britain is just the first step in reclaiming what is ours."

"That will cause a world war." Snape rigidly retorted. "Maybe the the current state of affairs need to be changed. Now go away." Havoc snapped his fingers and a plate erupted beneath Snape and whisked him away back to the Burrow. "Won't they become a threat?" Rex asked.

"They are lethargic, unsure of what to think of my plans, and now that they knew what I plan to the fullest, they would be even more divided."

"Sire, Lord Russell has arrived."

Havoc waved the eyes away. "Rex, you do the debriefing, I need to go back to the tournament." and with that he was gone. Rex turned to look at Rip.

"Master Draco had brought his Godfather in hopes of gaining the man's support by revealing Sire Havoc's plans," Rip answered the questioning look. "Severus Snape would support your cause if it were not for the fact it will cause a war, and the apparent rough past between him and Sire Havoc."

Rex thought for a moment, then conjured a piece of parchment and scribbled America on it before shoving the paper into the minion Master's hands. "Write everything you know." he said and left the minion to debrief Russell and the small platoon of minions Havoc had so generously provided for the rescue mission.

As expected, there were losses. Though far less than Rex had expected. Only four were missing in the total of twenty-five minions who were birthed out of their pits just a day ago. Unlike those in Rex's world, these were far more disciplined. Russell awaited his lord and master and was not expecting to be met with only the lover. Of this particular man, Russell was not fond of.

Rex glanced at the unconscious man laying on the floor before Russell's feet. "Lord Russell, has your mission been a success?"

"I answer to Sire Havoc, not his lover." Russell said in a flat tone.

"I ask on the behalf of Sire Havoc, my co-ruler and soul mate." Rex said imperiously. He spotted a shift in the man's stance at the mention of soul mates. His dark red armor was streaked with grime and soot, giving him the look of a warrior after a final breach into some citadel. "The prisoners are safe and sound and were directly transported to the healers at the Alps."

"We have no reports of wounded men arriving at the healers." Rip interrupted. Rex raised an eyebrow and he could see confusion in Russell's eyes. "You weren't a part of this, were you?"

"Of course not." Russell answered instantly. He knew Karlo was far too untrusting to follow his orders. Rex let out a sigh. "Take the minions to where you might think the prisoners were taken."

Russell nodded and disappeared with his assigned platoon. Rex ran a hand down his face. When Havoc becomes Emperor, establishing a spy network would be a god send. With a wave of his hand the man on the floor was lifted up and drifted to the dungeons, where Rex would interrogate him.

* * *

><p>The place was a mess. It had a strange chaotic feel to it, but still a mess. Books, baubles and everything else imaginable made mountains that dwarfed everything around them. Finding a diadem here was a snowballs chance in hell. Fortunately, Hermione had the diadem's location from the source that hid it in the first place. The likelihood of the diadem remaining where it was planted, was to her an absolute zero. Junk was constantly added by each generation and built new mountains of trash. Hermione looked at the heaps in frustration.<p>

The amounts of magical artifacts made it impossible to sense a piece of a soul, forcing her to manually search for it with only her eyes to find it. The absence of any clues to the diadem's location irked Hermione and she decided to search for the cabinet with a bust of an ugly warlock on top of it. She had low hopes in finding that kind of assortment of furniture in this chaotic mess.

After walking for half an hour and getting nowhere, she decided to climb one of the mountains for a vantage point. When she was halfway up she heard the doors open and heavy boots stomp inside. On the side of the mound, she was easily spotted and picked off. She disillusioned herself and stayed still. She thought Hogwarts to be abandoned and closed off after Havoc's upheaval. An isolating shield was placed by the Ministry, in hopes of keeping Havoc inside. Of course the shield would have never been created in the first place if Havoc had stayed here. Hogwarts was effectively isolated from the world that fears it.

The noise rounded the mound and Hermione could clearly see who it was that followed her inside. The shaggy long hair and beard would be recognizable anywhere. The half-giant's eyes glanced at every corner, glowing with paranoia. The fur coat was raggled and dirty, as if he had spent several days in mud and feces. A horrible visage, and far different then Hermione remembered of him.

"Oh Hagrid." Hermione sighed and dropped the disillusionment charm. Hagrid looked at her in shock at first, then changed to relief. "Hermione!" he called. "What are ye doing in here?"

Hermione slid down the many artifacts and junk and thought if she should tell Hagrid what she was doing here. She couldn't lie to the man, so she decided to leave out the major details.

"I'm looking for a diadem. Ravenclaw's Diadem, in fact."

Hagrid froze at the mention of the diadem. He started to murmur to himself. Hermione could hear him mention it over and over along with destroyed. A ball formed in her throat. "Hagrid, where is the diadem?"

"I destroyed it." Hagrid said almost absently. Hermione blinked, reigning in the shock. Yet another piece of Voldemort's soul has been destroyed. She couldn't fulfill her vow, but why was she still alive? Are the pieces still here, roaming around? A bright idea formed in her head.

"Let's go out, Hagrid."

* * *

><p>Vedrana Brand looked at the intimidating form of none other than Russell Thorn, Grand General of the Pristi Empire, standing in her parking lot. Whatever did Hrvoje do to bring on the fury of the Alvin Dynasty? She did note the presence of minions, and the only Pristi that has them currently was the young Immortal.<p>

"I am here for your bodyguard, miss Brand." Russell said, his hand lazily hanging off the hilt of his sword.

"He is not here, Lord Thorn," Vedrana said as she approached. "Gone after some errand for my husband." Vedrana knew only that which her husband told her, though she was never content with the scraps of information the manipulative man left her with. The house of cards was already precariously high and soon it would tumble down on top of him.

"Then you are being deceived, my lady," Russell retorted grimly. "The bodyguard and I have rescued Zoran and his companion from the hunters, and the bodyguard had taken them here without my permission."

"This is Zoran's home," Vedrana countered, though her eyes shone with worry at Russell's words. "it is only proper to bring him here."

"I have different orders, and I intend to fulfill them." Russell said and moved towards the doors. Vedrana sighed, she couldn't fight Russell or his entourage. She signaled for the guards to remain where they were, Vedrana would get to the bottom of her husband's scheme with her son.

The servants froze when a fully armored Pristi passed by of unknown origin, followed by a whole platoon of minions. Russell followed the distinct feeling of a damaged core depper into the Brand household until he stopped before a door leading into a bedroom. With a wave of his hand the door opened and he stepped in to find himself looking at a blade's tip. Behind it was the cowled visage of Karlo.

With absolute authority, Russell slapped the blade away and sent it flying out of the bodyguard's hand. "You may hide Lady Brand's son's core from her, but you can't hide it from me." he almost growled. Karlo stepped back.

"I was ordered to bring him back here, old man." Karlo growled defensively, pulling the sword of the ground and back into his hand. Russell's patience with the man was wearing thin. He senses Vedrana's presence behind him and heard a gasp when she saw Zoran's battered body. She rushed to her son's side and looked in shock at Karlo.

"What happened to him?" she questioned even though Russell had told her a minute before. Karlo stepped back further like a caged animal, his blue eyes dangerously frantic. Russell knew Karlo was a ticking time bomb and had to be restrained before causing even more trouble under a delusional master. The energy accumulating in Karlo was evident to everyone in the room. Russell raised his hand and pushed Karlo off his feet.

While Karlo was falling, Russell rushed to the man and grasped hold of his entire body with his magic and slammed him into the wood floor. The boards broke and splinters flew everywhere. Karlo was still conscious and Russell then sent him flying into the wall. The impact was enough to make Karlo lose consciousness.

"I believe that you are no longer safe, Lady Brand." Russell spoke softly. Vedrana looked at him with wide eyes. "Zoran is under the protection of Lord Immortal, and I am extending that to you. Your husband has been hiding a lot from you."

Vedrana stood up, her hands trembling. She knew she married a very rough man, someone who knew little of raising children and compassion. But she foolishly believed her love would soften him, it only got worse. Russell's coppery eyes bore sympathy and remorse. She let the minions carry off her son to safety and Russell held her hand as they left the manor. The guards looked as their lady disappeared, they knew the Brand family was at a break. They moved to the side as a furious and slightly hurt Jorgen was led by two minions towards the host and they all disappeared.

Maria ushered the distraught Lady Brand into the Crucible's many halls to a bedroom right next to Zoran's. Vedrana couldn't stand being next to Zoran's room and rushed into it to hold her son's hand. Maria followed and watched the minion doctor work his magic's on Zoran. The body was healed but the core was still damaged. With saying that Havoc would be able to fix it, Julius visited Jorgen who was sitting in the Great Hall. The dwarf's face was speckled with minute wounds and arms had small fractures he suffered under Karlo's rage.

They were dealt easily enough. Julius wondered what had the dwarf done to deserve being in the heart of the still-unbirthed Pristi Empire. If the Grand General thought he deserved it, Julius agreed, but that didn't stop him from wondering. Then he heard the distinct Overlord's call for his presence. Sire Rex has need of him. He advised the dwarf to keep it easy and waddled down into the dungeons.

Rex had his arms crossed over his chest while levitating the prisoner in the air. The man's rough face was determined to repel any method Rex opted to use against him. The cuts on his face showed past attempts that have obviously proven fruitless Julius stepped in the cell. Pristi needed no such thing as torture or potions to take what they wanted from their prisoners, the blood connection was enough to strip the bare of any vital information.

Julius understood his Sire's reluctance to use the said method. He suspected the hunters have set counter measures if they were captured by pristi. Rex became an even more suitable companion for his Overlord in Julius' eyes.

"You called, Sire."

"Do you see this?" Rex tipped his head at the prisoner. Julius looked at the man moe closely and saw nothing special. Then he tried to feel the man's aura and sensed a strange component inside that runs deep all the way to the wizard's core. The feeling was too vague to determine it completely, but at a first glance looked like a trigger. What it triggered...

"I see it. What of it?"

"Is there a way to remove it without killing him in the process?"

"This is incredibly delicate, Sire. We will need beings with great magical affinity. As I remember, the Blues were the closest to pure magic." Julius missed the many intellectual talks he had with his blue cousins, being one of the rare browns that possess a higher IQ than of a doorknob, he got lonely.

"We must find the blue hive." Rex murmured, hiding his dissatisfaction. He needed this man's information as soon as possible, and an excursion around this vast world searching for the hive was a lengthy mission that required either him or Havoc. "What of domination?"

"Domination, Sire?" Julius asked. Rex remembered seeing his son subdue the insolent locals of Nordberg by magically forcing his will upon them. This man deserved agony and torture for what he had done and tried to do. Dominating his mind was a poor punishment, but necessary. But the pain would have to be enough. Rex searched deep for the darkness within him, and found it's embers still living inside him. Love had reduced it to simmering ashes but it was always ready to be ignited once again, Evil always found a way.

The dark flames within him were set alight and Rex felt it rush through him, it felt just like when he had awakened from his deep slumber in the Dark Tower. It burned as strong as ever. He looked at the man who's face no longer held that same determination. He was the conqueror of the Abyss, he was a god, he had everyone's respect and lives on the palm of his hand. He could have crushed them, indulged the evil within him, but he did not for it was beyond him. This man and his compatriots, however, are a direct threat to him and his loved one.

Julius watched in awe as dark energy rose from his Sire's strong form, even without the helmet, his red eyes glowed bright. Rex raised his hand and in his open palm sprouted white-blue energy vortex. The cell darkened and the only source of light was the swirling orb of dark energy. Then Rex moved his palm to face the man and the energy struck the man's head. He screamed and shook against the invisible restraints, the torture lasted only a few seconds but was enough to break his will to pieces.

The last vestiges of the dark energy wafted out of the man's eyes and his face took on a simpleton's visage. Rex let him fall on the ground and glared at the groveling. "Oh master, you are most merciful!" Rex despised this form of control, if you wanted servants either showed them to truly fear you or earn their respect, this was a method he didn't agree with his son. The deed was done and the evil's presence was no longer needed.

"I order you to tell me where your main base of operations is." he ordered.

Before even the words abandoned his lips, his eyes went blank and he fell to the ground, dead. Rex looked at the body for a moment before sighing. What a waste of time. He rushed, and this was the consequence. He had a feeling he would need the blues if he wanted to make any progress with future prisoners. "The spell is ingrained in their very being, must be placed the very moment they are born." Julius mused. Such magic needed the purest magic to dispel and the Blues were the best option. A pristi would most certainly suffer the repercussions of dealing with the spell.

"Shall I ask Master Rip to search for the location of the hive? The library could hold such information and Master Rip knows it top to bottom." Julius suggested. Rex nodded and kneeled to put his palm on the dead man's head. "Back to the flow," he whispered and the body crumbled to dust beneath his hand. A sense of completion filled Rex as the body turned to ash and dust. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. If what the pristi believe is true, everything will return to whence it came: to Father of magic and Mother of earth. Rex wondered if he could take on the parents of this world, he did kill one and owned his own personal domain.

An idea wormed it's way in his mind when he thought of the dimension he ruled for fifty years and practically owned it. He never looked at it like he owned it until now, he didn't consider himself god at all during his time there, and now he realised what he had so eagerly traded to be somewhere else. Now the plane of existence's value skyrocketed in Rex's eyes. With godlike powers such as his, he could very much rule two worlds along with his soul mate and bring his full powers and armies to bear upon the enemies here.

He may have taken the title of god of that forsaken place, but he had never thought of molding the place to his liking, he hadn't even thought of using his godly powers bestowed upon him by killing that wretched forsaken deity. How could he get back? The book! He held the book when he was dragged in. Maybe it was back at Hogwarts? Or taken by Rip as a stray book for the library!

WIth renewed purpose and vigor, Rex rushed to the library to pursue two new goals.

* * *

><p>Havoc walked alone in his armor to the next round of bouts for the title of Emperor. All of his companions were gone to bring about his ascension in England, with only Rex's exhilaration keeping him company. Voldemort's soul vibrated with anticipation for more blood in his sheath. The people gave him a narrow berth, all eager to once again look upon his graceful and powerful visage. Women looked dazedly at his glowing emerald eyes while the men gave encouraging pats; somehow he had earned their respect even though he was reclusive for the time he was here.<p>

"We are avid Immortal supporters, Sir." one of the men said with a grin. "Knew one would surface sooner or later!" another said encouragingly. Havoc was lost for words and could only give humble nods to acknowledge their loyalty. It made Havoc wonder why his parents had never tried to participate in the tournaments if they were direct descendants of Victor.

Distracting thoughts they were. A warrior's mind should be clear and focused on the goal ahead.

The coliseum was once again full with the first bout being Havoc versus Hrvoje Brand. Havoc thanked his stars for the opportunity to break that horrible man into a whimpering mess before he drew first blood. He would feel the fury of a caged animal held and tortured for far too long and grovel before it. When Havoc was done with him, Hrvoje Brand will remain only as a moniker, the person behind it will be gone.

The sand was dry as if it was brought from the deserts of Africa just now, the wind left a wavy texture in the sand. Havoc stepped forth and glared at the figure standing on the opposite end of the vast expanse. The speech the woman above spoke was drowned out by his beating heart and sudden influx of energy within him, brought on by the chance at righteous retribution. Yet another door in Arthur's treasure trove of knowledge opened in his mind, and Havoc sucked in a breath at the fierceness of the information being rammed into his brain.

The coliseum erupted in cheers and claps when the countdown for the fight to start. Brand drew his sword and settled it beside his carbon-plated thigh. It was a long sabre, the likes of the hungarian officers used to carry with them. His posture reminded Havoc of an officer standing before a field of battle, observing and giving orders to his subordinates. Havoc drew his sword in kind and passed his hand over the blade and against Voldemort's presence. Dark flames enveloped the entire blade and Voldemort sent out a jolt of surprise as he was enveloped in such darkness he had never felt in his life.

_"It is my nature, my birthright and my strength..."_ Havoc whispered in an unknown language he didn't know he possessed knowledge of. _"I will not have you stand in my way, bearer of Fire..."_

Brand's pose shifted uncomfortably. The Immortal boy was speaking in the language of Creation, a language long gone even during the Pristi Empire. Victor was the only one to speak it... The last part was etched in Hrvoje's mind, he recognized the words for 'bearer of Fire'. And he didn't like the imposing tone in the boy's voice as he spoke.

Without another word, Immortal switched his grip of the heavy blade into a reverse-grip and started running towards him. He took on a low stance, ready to evade the slash and use the hand guard. And just like he predicted, the foolish boy did exactly that and Brand easily dodged the slash suppsoed to hit him across the faceplate. As the boy passed over him, he slammed his handle guard into the boy's chin. The metal didn't yield a single centimetre but the force was enough to send him flying into the air.

The thin figure fell a metre away and was quick on his feet, the green eyes burning with dark fire. The blow would have felled any lesser being, but this boy was the Overlord, a tyrant of the battlefield just like Victor. He would have to make swift, hard and painful blows to take him down. His scalp tingled from where the black flames scraped his helmet, only now he had noticed his armor suffered damage. That was a problem, too, his armor was a lot weaker than the minion-crafted suit Immortal carried.

Come to me, Brand urged, come and get me!

As if reading his mind, Immortal flew at him with blinding speed. Only thanks to the amplified speed of his suit was he able to block the sword. The flames wrapped around the sabre, trying to burn it to ashes, but they couldn't. Ancestral magic enveloped the sword that protected it from harm against any but the most powerful of forces. The tendrils of flame dashed towards his hand. He had to get out of this stalemate.

A swift kick in the stomach only slightly perturbed his opponent but it was enough to slide his sword's entire length and at the exit slash against the boy's left shoulder. Now he heard metal groan and saw he had left a considerable gash in the delicate imbued steel. It groaned again as the steel somewhat reattached itself.

What in the world? While he watched the steel knit back together, a fist found his face and the visor cracked from the force. Brand backed away and dazedly blocked the violent onslaught of slashes and thrusts. Through the cracks, he could see Immortal rapidly switch between grips with lightning speed on each strike. He couldn't beat the boy in a sword fight.

He pushed and sent the boy back a few feet to make room with magic and backed away further. Immortal was on him the next second with yet another wave of swift and brutal attacks. With each slash a small cut was left on his sword hand that could break any moment under the sheer force. In his other he poured all of his accumulated magic for one blow that should reduce the boy's armor to nothing. And end this battle...Now!

He found an opening amidst the slashed and moved his palm until it was pressed against the boy's stomach and let go of all the power he had in this one attack. He was face to face with the boy and saw something that sent chills down his spine. The green eyes were filled with giddy anticipation and smug satisfaction. He looked down at his left hand and saw the combustive energy of his most powerful spell be held in the boy's right palm, hovering like a miniature sun.

Nobody could harness the Fire, none but Brand...and now the Overlord held it with such ease it was laughable. Brand was so shocked by this development that he had forgotten they actually fought. A hand grasped him and pulled closer to the sun, he could feel it's intense heat even through the thick visor, it's light was blinding and he had to avert his eyes. _"Your title as Fire bearer has been revoked. Your daughter shall inherit the title once you are banished to the deepest depths of the world."_

His voice was soft, languid and commanding, and Brand understood every single word of it. Before he could act, the sun was slammed into his chest and the armor imploded from the inside. He felt the excruciating heat that was meant for his opponent and only survived thanks to the strong enchantments that prevented death from occurring. The armor fell apart and littered the ground, but there was still no spilled blood.

He saw through the painful haze a thin finger approach his face, the sharp protrusion of a metal nail touched his cheek and then dragged forcefully, drawing blood and leaving a deep scar. The woman above called first blood while he looked at Immortal drop a drop of his blood onto the sword's flat side. The black flames devoured it and he could see the crimson become one with the blade, forming a crimson line and becoming longer with each drop.

The bout was over and Havoc Immortal was due for the final challenge.

* * *

><p><strong>This is the longest one yet and I am proud of it. Some of the darkness promised is showing it's face a bit :)<strong>

**There is not much to say... well, onward to chapter 22!**


	23. Preparations For The Future

**Chapter 22, ladies and gentlemen. Suddenly I'm worried that I won't be able to tie all the ends sufficiently before it becomes so big it would need the second book to tie them closed. And the story just keeps gushing out of me, adding more and more.**

**Well, R&R and enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 22<p>

Preparations For The Future

After the so dramatically called 'Fall of Hogwarts' by the press, Neville Longbottom returned back to his grandmother's oppressive domain. As if the reappearance of Harry in the form of his escape from the Death Eaters a month ago and disappearing again wasn't enough, now he had to spend the indeterminable amount of time of his life with his grandmother who never restrained herself to point out how useless and idiotic he was. Her attitude only furthered his own incompetence along with Snape's acid remarks that are still fresh in Neville's mind.

The lack of harassment on his grandmother's behalf made Neville weary to walk the halls of the Longbottom residence, perhaps her maltreatment had reached new heights during his time at Hogwarts and had ascended to real punishment? What went in his gran's mind scared the life of him. He ate breakfast, lunch and dinner in his room by the way of the house elves, venturing outside when only absolutely forced by some other need.

Today the elf had refused to bring him breakfast under the orders of his grandmother and relayed a message to go downstairs for breakfast. Neville went pale at the thought of eating with his grandmother again, he had forgotten how tense and awkward meals with her were after being enveloped in the camaraderie of his fellow house mates.

The house was awkwardly warm unlike his room, the candles on the walls were lit and glowed brightly, Neville couldn't remember when the candles were ever lit during his life. It also had the air of formality and freshness; everything was spick and span. So was the dinning room when Neville entered. Augusta Longbottom sat in her chair and sipped tea, her gaze at the window through which the shaft of light poured upon her. Her face was emotionless and she continued to sip her tea, ignoring Neville's presence.

Neville's breakfast was placed beside her.

Neville tentatively approached, sat in the chair and began eating. When he was halfway done Augusta finally spoke. "I had always hoped you would reach your father's potential."

She still kept on looking out the window. "Time and time again you disappointed me. I was close to giving up on you, but the recent events have changed my view of you. You are indeed the only chance your parents might get of living a normal life."

Neville lowered his fork, looked at his grandmother as if she was insane. "I wouldn't be getting your hopes up for nothing, Neville. I truly believe you can help heal your mother and father. You just need to not be a coward." that was Augusta alright, even now she didn't refrain from insulting Neville.

Augusta reached into her robes and procured a glistening white crystal in the shape of symbol of infinity. A thin vein of crimson created the same shape in the crystal's core. Neville looked at his grandmother and found her gaze expectant. He took the crystal gingerly, unsure what to do with it.

"The Longbottoms are an ancient family spanning centuries. And our ancestor was so powerful he harbored the aid of beings far stronger then he could even imagine. He is remembered and known by all. Neville, our ancestor is no other then Merlin himself." Augusta was serious. Neville still thought his gran lost her marbles at some point during his year at Hogwarts or maybe she was always unhinged.

"They considered him a friend, an ally. He earned their trust and their very presence should he need it. This crystal is the last one, all the other's shattered when the lines were vanquished by our misled kin," Augusta looked Neville straight in the eye. "This being holds the power beyond imagining, and they had sworn to help the Longbottoms as they had before. Make the call, Neville."

Neville stood up, would the woman go to such lengths to torment him? He glared at her with scorn. "You can't possibly think that I will believe we are descended from Merlin! Or to have help from beings even you have no idea what they are." he hissed, ignoring the fact he was yelling at his own grandmother. Augusta's expression didn't change.

"I understand this is a lot to take in on such short notice, go and think upon it and take the crystal with you. I hope you will make the right decision." With that she rose from her seat and left the room, leaving Neville to fume.

Neville glared at the crystal in his hand, trailed the thin line of crimson with his eyes and saw that it coursed in an infinite loop inside the crystalline structure. The more he looked at it, the more he thought how stupid and shameful he had acted towards his grandmother. Even now the subject of his parents was a tender one. When it came to his parents he reflexively put on a defensive façade. Trying this thing couldn't hurt, he didn't have much to lose anyway.

In his room, Neville cleared the clutter and sat on the floor. The hard floor for some reason inspired deeper retrospection inside him. He always strayed away from the thing he meant to do, always going back to the question should he. He knew that doing it he would get his hopes up, and no matter how little, losing it would only ruin his already sullen mood and life. This was no time to be a coward, Neville! Man up.

He grasped the crystal and realized that Augusta hadn't told him how to activate it. There were no instructions either. How was he supposed to call this being if he had no idea how to use this thing? Should he ask Augusta?

Neville shook his head. No, he will do this on his own. He upped his scrutiny of the crystal and thought of the shape. The symbol of infinity, everlasting. If this was a crest of a living being... "Immortal?" he whispered and the crystal erupted with light. The crimson fluid inside lit up like a raging inferno and Neville could feel something dig deep into his palm, run up his arm and slam into his heart. The sensation made Neville even more afraid as to what he had unleashed upon his body. It lasted only a second as it retreated back into the confines of the crystal. It dropped on the floor with a thud.

A small pin-sized hole was in the center of his palm where, now Neville knew, the blood inside the crystal had penetrated him. It had reached inside him and tasted his blood from his very heart. His attention went back to the crystal as it started to shake and moments later a shape formed in the thin air and assembled to half-dressed teenage boy. Green metal leggings, boots and gloves. The chest was covered in a soft black fabric and on top of the slender neck was a terryfingly familiar face.

"Harry?" Neville breathed as he looked upon the newcomer's face. It was fuller and more vibrant than the one had become accustomed to during the stage of depression that ailed him. His green eyes looked at him in confusion then unexpected warmth.

Harry dropped to his knees, a small smile on his lips. "I forgot all about you, Neville. I've been so busy to have never have you cross my mind. Sorry, friend."

The receptiveness of Harry was a tad strange to Neville along with the fact that Harry was obviously one of the beings Augusta mentioned. Neville considered Harry an incredible person from the beginning after finding out he had taken on Voldemort himself that first year and he thought Harry Potter couldn't go higher in his eyes.

He let Harry hug him lightly and he reciprocated. It was short but warm and friendly. Harry was still all smiles. "How did I get here?" he asked. Neville took the crystal from beside Harry and offered it. "I called you through this."

"Rip really likes to keep out the bigger details," Harry mumbled to himself as he took the proffered crystal. He looked at it for a minute before giving it back, his face housing realisation. "It's a blood call."

"A blood call?" Harry nodded. "This is my people's magic. We combine the blood of the two families inside this crystal and the protector family can be called upon whenever the other wished. Pristi must've thought some people had earned the right to be protected by them. Us." Harry added at the end.

They fell silent. The distance between them grew at an exceptional rate but Neville didn't want that to happen. They were friends at Hogwarts, nothing prevented it from continuing outside Hogwarts. Though he suspected Harry would never return to the Wizarding world.

"Harry-" he started but Harry raised his hand. "I have a new name now. Havoc. Harry Potter died when he fell down that pit."

Neville swallowed. "Havoc... Umm, I don't know how to ask you..." Havoc looked at him softly. "It must be really important to have called for me," he said. "What is it?"

"My gran told me that you, Pristi, are capable of healing my mother and father." Neville looked away, he had never asked for help when it came to his parents and he felt like he was imposing on Harry...Havoc by calling on him. He was still confused how Harry was suddenly gone and Havoc was in his place, but Havoc was just like Harry: compassionate and helpful like always.

Havoc tensed before him, his green eyes full of regret and self-loathing. "I'm trying, Neville. But there is so much to take care of that if I focused on everything I would be ripped apart." Havoc said lowly, standing up and pacing around the room. Neville lifted off the floor as well and followed his friend's furious pacing. "I am in the middle of the tournament," Havoc continued. "And then I can heal this world, bring it back to what it should be."

"Heal it?" Neville's question cut into Havoc's ramble. Havoc stopped to look at him and then stepped over to him. "The wizardkind are the descendants of the Pristi, hybrids of Pristi and muggles. Your kind systematically had been wiping out my race for four centuries and only two hundred thousand of us remains. I intend to ascend your kind and turn you into Pristi, the beings from the beginning of this world who are lords and masters by birthright."

The emerald eyes had a strange glint that Neville couldn't determine. "I found a way to change your closed core and open it up to the flows of the world. There is so much potential in the wizardkind that it would be horrible to find it burn out and wither away in a millenia. I am offering a hand of peace...but they are yet to understand it."

Neville understood nothing. Havoc was talking about something Neville was absolutely out of the loop and has never been in. The next moment he saw Havoc bite into his palm until it bled. "Why do I keep talking when there is an easier way." With that Havoc pressed his palm against his forehead and Neville felt his mind be bombarded with new information.

It was the bare essentials he obviously had to know, mostly out of context but it put Havoc's rambling into perspective. He felt Havoc wipe away the blood from his forehead and step back. Havoc's face was expectant, hoping he would not lose his friend. The last thing still swirled in Neville's mind. The memory where Dumbledore forced a man called Pettigrew to betray Havoc's parents and his last words before dying. They shook Neville to the core.

"Why would Dumbledore do that to you?" he whispered, vaguely aware of tears brimming in his eyes. "You did nothing wrong..."

Havoc smiled at him, beamed actually. "There is no need to cry, Neville. He is gone, and he won't hurt anyone anymore. Let's go to St. Mungo's to heal your parents."

Neville wiped his eyes and looked at Havoc with wide eyes. Even after letting him be ruined by depression, Havoc still wanted to help Neville. He scrambled towards the door. "Gran needs to come aswell." Havoc laughed at his run. "The more the merrier."

The breakfast in the ward was done and the healers left the patients to rest, the hallways empty apart of a nurse walking up and down the hallway doing saturday paperwork. Visiting hours are in the afternoon but neither Neville nor his grandmother minded for Havoc to intrude a lot early. Neville looked at Havoc's back as the latter moved without a sound despite the apparently heavy armour on his body. He felt his cheeks burn with shame when he made a loud sound. Augusta was also peculiarly silent for a woman her age.

Neville was about to point out the two beds where his parents lay but Havoc had stopped right before them. His face was solemn and he clenched his right hip in a death grip. It slackened after a moment. "Their minds have been trapped by immense pain...I will need your help to break it's influence and free them."

Augusta put a hand on Neville's shoulder. Neville looked at his grandmother and for the first time saw her rough aristocratic exterior break. She was bordering on tears, of happiness or grief Neville couldn't determine.

"Please step over to their sides, I will be in the middle," Havoc spoke softly and sat in the chair Neville always occupied during his visits, between his parents. Havoc placed his armored hands on their foreheads and they made no sign of feeling the hand. "Put your hands on mine." Neville and Augusta did as they were told and put their hands on the strangely warm armored hands of Havoc.

"This will hurt us all, we must endure the pain that keeps them from returning back." Havoc closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Get ready."

The next moment Neville could only see stars in his vision. A morning star of pain raked and battered his entire body, it's white-hot spikes digging into him again and again and the weight shattering bones. He would have fallen if it weren't for a strange force keeping him upright and invisible hands holding his mouth muffled to contain the screams. During the brief moments where his vision was flashed blind with pain, he could see his grandmother twitch in agony just like him. Havoc sat still but how his body was rigid and the eyes hastily wandered beneath his eyelids, Neville knew he was enduring the same agony.

In what felt to be the peak, Neville realized this was what his parent's felt under the Death Eater's hands, their last moments of sanity before they fled to the deepest confines of their psyche, and to never return. The thought of getting his parents back bolstered his endurance and the pain became a tad bit lesser, more manageable. After an eternity, the pain dwindled and soon only jolts of electric involuntary muscle twitch remained. The hand released his mouth and the forces around him gently placed him on the floor.

A gasp reached Neville's ears and he recognized it to be Augusta's voice. He tried to move but his legs revolted in painful spasms against him. Havoc's form rose above his mother's bed, blood dripping from nose, ears and mouth. "Hah..." Havoc gasped out and a thick glob of blood poured down his chin. Neville looked at his friend in worry, and became even more worried when he realized he was looking at a bloodied smile.

"Sorry, Neville...but I must excuse myself." Havoc apologized and disappeared. Neville looked dumb-founded at where Havoc disappeared, and sat on the floor a minute longer before remembering that he had an unconscious grandmother to look after. And see if Havoc's brutal efforts had brought Neville his parents back.

* * *

><p>The wards crumbled under her careful manipulation of the surrounding energy, piercing the weak points in it's complex structure only a master wizard could weave. However the spell was of stock quality, such as all spells of human make, but a powerful one nonetheless. Hermione suspected that Dumbledore himself placed it, and felt awkward in disassembling them. From behind she sensed a shielded presence of concentrated magic that could possibly let her make progress in piecing together Voldemort's soul.<p>

Now the bookshelf was all that it was: a bookshelf. And it most certainly held a opening mechanism or a code word to open it. Hermione could simply tear it apart with a wave of her hand if she wanted to, but she couldn't destroy a piece of Hogwarts. She loved her time here too much to do something like that. Then her attention shifted to the half-giant standing beside her.

Hagrid's eyes went from the bookshelf and Hermione just like he was when they were near something forbidden. "Hagrid, could you open it?"

"Open what?" Hagrid futiliely tried to hide his knowledge of the rule not to open this particular secret door at all costs. "Hagrid, I am well aware this is a secret door, and I need to see what is behind it."

"Hermione, there's dangerous stuff you or anybody else shouldn't see." Hagrid spoke tersely, surprising Hermione. The now abandoned castle was wearing the half-giant's nerves thin. "Hagrid, I will explain everything, but now please."

Hagrid looked at her for a long moment before sighing and pulled a book that Hermione would never take off the shelf: 'How to dance with Trolls'

The bookshelf stirred and then groaned as it was pulled inside the wall and slid aside. A cloud of dust billowed out into their face as the decade-old air was replaced by the new. Hermione wasn't expecting dust and got a mouthful before willing away the rest that came her way. She coughed and spat while Hagrid grumbled as to what in Merlin's beard was he doing. After he air ways were sufficiently coughed clean, Hermione and Hagrid proceeded inside the dark confines of the recently opened tomb of magical artifacts, as it looked like.

Almost all of them Hermione recognized as books on Dark magic cursed and enchanted to wound or outright kill the would-be Dark wizard. Hermione, however, was far above that and she was aware of that. In several she felt the presence of living, or unliving to be more accurate, of the books. She remembered when Harry told her about a book in the Forbidden section that had a face inside of it that screamed when the book was opened. She only looked at the titles that were mostly in latin and gave them a wide berth.

In one heavily warded and hidden alcove was a book shrouded in fog, it's cover a bleached white. It had no title or anything to show what it contained. The wards were far more powerful than the ones before and Hermione doubted she could dispel them. Behind her, she felt Hagrid shift on his large feet in discomfort. When a half-giant was uncomfortable, you could easily feel it.

"Oh, we shouldn't be here, no, no, no..."

Hermione thought if she should call for Havoc's help, he was far more powerful then her...that was out of the question! This endeavour has to remain a secret. She had full confidence in her new abilities that Havoc had unlocked and she spread out her consciousness around the small bubble of magic surrounding the alcove. Surprisingly enough, unlike the rest of the wards, these wards were specifically Light based with many signs of the sun and life, their setting looked to be a standard shield but one that repulsed the living and allowed passage to the dead. The dead? Why would Dumbledore put up wards against the living and not for the dead?

Doubts about tearing the wards down wormed their way into Hermione's mind, but she shook her head. She had a foolishly taken vow to uphold...maybe not so foolishly. She truly did believe that Voldemort had changed for the better, that he wished a proper life instead of this accursed existence torn apart. Though the book before her looked to be not-of-this-world. Were the wards even placed by Dumbledore?

She tapped the wards and felt a surge go through her and she blinked to find herself in a blanched white version of the secret room. It's walls barely visible from the fog. Hagrid was gone, she was alone, and naked.

Clothes would be preferable, and a heap of clean clothes formed out of the sweeping fog. She put them on and stepped out of the room and found herself on the shores of Black Lake, inside it's now even blacker waters weaved dozens of the giant squids and several hundred merpeople. They flitted in and out of existence like ghosts. Almost melded with the dark waters, sat a cloaked figure that Hermione only spotted when a bleached white skeletal arm left it's confines to throw a pebble into the lake.

"Almost a thousand years-worth of life swirls in the lake," came a throaty voice from the robed figure. "I've seen all of them go out and into my fold." it finished. Hermione frowned. The robed figure was suggesting it was death, but it couldn't be...she couldn't be dead?

"Oh no, my dear. You are not dead," as it spoke, the ghosts vanished and the lake was left empty. "This is between the world of the living, and the world of the dead."

"Limbo, you humans call it," it cackled at the name. "Purgatory even. And in the end, partly, all of them are true."

"You are death?" Hermione almost whispered.

The figure rose and turned it's head. Hermione caught the sight of a bone-white jaw before it was gone in the darkness of the hood. "Indeed I am. You are one of the lucky ones to meet me without the oh so horrible side-effect of coming with me." Hermione hadn't expected for Death to actually have a sense of humor. "You've touched one of my wards, Progenitor." Death hissed. It sounded like wind whistling between jagged stones.

"If a living thing touched it with it's body, it would only be repulsed, but you touched it with your very core. It's an expected side-effect but an unusual one. The wench has never told me how you meatbags work exactly." Death's body cracked and creaked as it walked along the shore of the lake.

"The book you seek, Progenitor. And what would you want with one of my personal possessions, hmm?"

Hermione blinked, entirely baffled that she was talking to Death. She was hundred percent sure she was having a dream or a hallucination. She might as well indulge her crazy imagination. "I seek to repair Voldemort's soul."

"Voldemort? Ah, Tom Marvolo Riddle. The arrogant whelp who thinks he has avoided my grasp. Maybe I could have left him alive for a couple of hundred years, he was making quite a inflow of souls after a long dry-spell." Death sighed fondly. "Repair his soul...well you won't find that in my book. Heck, it's so obvious that it hurts! But of course you mortals are perhaps too weak-minded to comprehend the world for what it is." Death shrugged.

"How is it obvious?" Hermione asked, approaching the rickety robed skeleton without fear. This was a dream after all. Death chuckled as she approached. "Well, it is to the gods, and me. The only ones who had even come close to figuring it out, and that is put mildly, is one of you, Progenitor."

"One of us? A Pristi has found out how to repair a soul?" Hermione was starting tho think this might not be a dream after all. Death cocked his head. "I think it is only fair for the first living beings to understand it's end and what it entails. I will give you a hint: divide us, we will split. Keep us, we will stay. Release us, we band."

Hermione thought about the very much vague hint when she realized that Death kept on talking. "I've practically given you the answer, Progenitor. Now begone, you've taken too much of my time already. Time does not wait for Death, either."

Death turned to walk into the lake. "Oh, and tell that god 'welcome to the neighbourhood.'" and Hermione felt her lungs fill with air and heavy hands push into her chest. She slapped at the hands and took a deep ragged breath when they lifted off her. Hagrid's face was above her, his entire face white from fear. "Oh thank Merlin' yer alive."

"I'm more than alive, I got what I was looking for."

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><p>The camp was in shambles, fires sputtered into death against the cutting gale. The blood has already frozen over as the last giant fell with a loud crack of snow and ice. Razz Kota Furiously flicked his spear and the foul blood splattered the snow, the now-clean blade shone in the noon sun. The giants have been beaten and the slaves are now free.<p>

His second in command hissed orders to secure the surrounding are and be on the lookout for any stragglers behind him before joining him. "No losses, Karathuk." he hissed with a pride. Razz nodded in agreement and replaced his spear on his back when one of the villagers ran towards them.

The only way Razz recognized the villager to be a female was the long black hair trailing behind her as she jogged towards them; her fur apparel was so thick there were no distinguishing features for a lizardman such as Razz to recognize gender in the human race. She was yelling in her tongue that none of the lizardmen understood. Razz was glad he thought of taking Krin and his companion along with them just for this. Krin was already there to serve as an interpreter.

The woman stopped before them and continued her urgent message. The expression on Krin's face shifted to regretful. "What did she say?" Razz asked.

"The chieftain was badly hurt in the attack," Krin faced Razz. "He requests your presence."

With hurried speed unfitting the Karathuk of the Scale peoples, Razz was on the scene where the chieftain has fallen. The snow was drenched in blood and made a path to the warrior's last moments. He was on the ground, a crude but effective giant spear in his gut amidst the ruins of his home. The women and men surrounding him parted to let their savior through.

Razz crouched at the human's side and grasped the dying man's hand that the chief had barely raised. Krin arrived right behind him with an armored healer in tow. The lizardman kneeled on the opposite side and could only shake his head. "He has lost too much blood to replicate, Karathuk, this human is already in a tight grip of death."

The chief spoke and Krin translated. "You saved my people. You asked for no reward, no tribute for your valiant actions," the man stopped and took a deep breath, doing so issuing a dozen violent coughs. He continued. "We are forever in your debt. My time is over and I go into the Halls with no regrets."

With that the chief died and Razz heard a woman cry behind him. He stood up and looked up the menacing, crooked shaft of the large spear that had nearly tore the human in two. Should he leave it? Will it be recognized as a monument of sacrifice made by their chieftain? Or as a reminder of the oppression they had suffered for decades. "Shall I leave it?" he shouted into the crowd. Krin translated and the words created a wave of surprise through the assembled crowd.

A young man spoke first and approached. Krin made a sound. "This is the son of the chieftain, the next in line to lead them."

The man's voice was strong and passionate, just like his father's. "He expresses his gratitude for releasing them from bondage, and answers that they wish for the spear to stay as a monument of triumph and his father's sacrifice."

Razz nodded and wrapped his hand around the shaft of the spear. Under his command stone rose out of the ground and molded over the chief's body and the spear. In moments the grave and monument was built. Razz jumped down from the tomb and swept his foot before him and stomped it into a low bow. His hands were splayed in a gesture Krin could only determine to be one of respect.

"Let us give one last parting gift." Razz said and his second in command nodded and went to the group of armored enchanters that had previously provided support fire with their many spells. Their talents have most likely prevented any lizardman death in this attack. He said something and the mages nodded before spreading out into a circle. Each started to stomp one foot in unison until it sounded like an earthquake. Then they started to move their hands as if they were shaping a globe of air but soon motes of energy started to materialize between their hands.

They continued to do their 'dance' until the motes were globes and bursting with gray-blue light. When they reached a certain size, they suddenly crouched and slammed the globes into the floor beneath them. A thunder-clap issued from them and the rock groaned and cracked around them. Moments later structures rose all around the camp; a thick wall of stone erupted to encircle the entire perimeter while inside formed structures with windows created out of paper-thin marble for glass. The remains of their fur huts fell off the domed tops of the buildings and clattered to the floor. The villagers were astounded at the power and looked around more than once.

The earthquake receded and the structures stopped moving, but still very warm from the magic that formed them. Razz turned to face the young chieftain, his eyes held a tinkle of satisfaction. "I leave the future of your tribe to you, young chieftain. Make your father proud." Krin translated and the group left through the newly-formed gates and into the vast valley of snow. The villager's followed them out and gave numerous gestures of gratitude. With one final wave Razz Kota and his warriors, along with Krin and Jaruk, disappeared.

Two triumphs in one day, he felt ecstatic and even the chief's death had did little to dent it. He certainly wasn't heartless, but the fact the tribe will most likely prosper without the yoke of slavery made Razz relax in his tent in which permeated the wild smells of the jungles he had grown up in. The scale armor slid of his hard, smooth shelled shoulders and onto the floor.

The leggings and the boots followed until he fell flat onto his bed with only his loincloth covering his privates, as if that was necessary, unlike the humans, the lizardmen were far more apt in defending their precious organs with retraction and additional crotch plating. And he is yet to father children of his own even after living for three decades. Even his second in command has a youngling and he is twenty-five. Finding a mate has been the least of his concerns; with all the squabbles between clans after his father's death and foul deceit the pygmies tried to pull upon his position, getting a female had been impossible, let alone fathering children.

This tournament has been a unique experience that has previously rocked the lizardman to his core that had already been shaken with the reappearance of the legendary line of Immortal that was reverently remembered by his ancestors. The boy was incredibly skilled and possessed radical tactics that reminded many of Razz's ancient advisors of a prominent figure in England's past and the war against the Wizards. Now he felt more and more confident with each victory, though he is yet to face the Immortal or the formidable Yukasa of Japan that has been neck and neck with Immortal in speed barely with a heavily modified RED. The next match will certainly strain everyone to their limits. Adair, Yukasa, Louise, Immortal and him would have to use every skill to achieve victory.

His scale's creaked as he frowned. The tournament couldn't go on without unnecessary deaths. Losing half the Concil has weakened the Pristi position severely and a strong leader needs to rise from the final battle. And Razz was unsure if he wished to fight for the rule.

The thick curtain that led to his room rustled open and a lithe lizardman stepped in with only a loincloth around his dangerously narrow waist. His black slits were surrounded by dark-green unlike his brother's topaz yellow and they fell on his brother's hardly disguised backside. His tail swished once in a violent spasm before settling. "Do keep yourself decent, brother." he hissed.

"You've seen me naked your whole life, what is your point, Toru?"

Toru's scaled lips twisted into a smirk as he approached and sat on the stool opposite of his brother's bed and waved at the forgotten armor to neatly place itself on the rack beside him. "If it wasn't me and perhaps your second in command, what would he say about your indecency?"

"Doesn't matter, it wasn't him." Razz replied and rolled onto his side to looked at Toru. It was amazing how different they were despite being formed at the same moment in their mother's womb. While Razz pursued the Warrior's path, Toru walked the path of Knowledge and reaching the deep intricacies of the Flow and world. Surprisingly enough, neither brother resented one another for their talents or even found their differences detrimental to their relationship. Then Razz noted the weary look in those sharp slits and sat up.

"Something is worrying you."

Toru's long face was torn between grimacing and keeping a straight face, and as always, broke under his brother's intent gaze. "There is vile magic encroaching upon our home, brother. It reeks of human design."

Razz understood what Toru meant, but he was stunned to realize the litheness of his usually thin sibling was emaciation. He flashed an angry scowl at his foolish brother. "You haven't eaten for how long?" Toru leaned back, surprised he hadn't been able to fool his brother from noticing.

"it started a few days after you were gone, so a week at most." Razz sighed and dragged a hand down his long snout. "Why? And make it a good one,"

Toru scowled at him. "For your information, Razz," he hissed, "I had been keeping the plague at bay and hadn't the time for eating or drinking."

"Who is keeping it at bay now, then?" Razz countered. Toru blinked. "Grand Shaman Kuatil, almost beat me to a pulp with his staff when I said I didn't want to move,"

Both snickered: Razz in that way when a sibling got punished for being stupid and Toru in the manner of a pupil that considers his mentor a crazy kook. "Since you are in high spirits must mean you've won the fight," Toru smiled at Razz. "Wish I could have been there to support you."

Razz returned the gesture and added a light pat on Toru's snout as he always did. "You got bigger things to do then look at your brother make a fool of himself."

"I missed that?" Toru mock whined that came out rather high-pitched. Razz stood and went for the curtain. "Fetch me some gumbo, woman!" he yelled and a burly clawed hand smacked him across the face as he passed through the curtain and Toru cackled.

* * *

><p>For a hundredth time the memory replayed, the words were as mesmerizing as the last ninety-nine times. Finally Rip summed enough power to pause the memory, though he felt the strange sense of longing that he hadn't felt since he was a soldier in ages past. Julius blinked a couple of times until he realized the words were no longer there. If minions could blush, his face would be beet red from the shame.<p>

"This ruins everything!" Rip screeched and waddled away from the crystal that projected the memory. Julius raised a weathered eyebrow. "Ruins what?"

Rip tapped his clawed foot on the floor in annoyance, his mind still reeling from the tirade of Rex when he bursted after him and was bodily dragged away into the library in search of a book that may or may not have came along with the man at that first encounter. To be quite honest, his life was turned upside down and had to just sit right there and tell them how he became the Minion Master under rule of a master named Arthur. He was glad that another Overlord has arrived, there is no doubt about it in his mind, but the boy and his co-lord have become a puzzle that is unsolvable. Arthur's ingenuity was far greater than he let on...

"Master Arthur was always an arse, wasn't he," Rip groaned. Julius gave a gravelly chuckle. "In many ways he has, too bad it hadn't saved him on the battlefield."

"Perhaps he planned his death, too?"

Julius' other eyebrow joined it's counterpart on his pronounced forehead. "You've got to be joking. Arthur may have been a gifted tactician and mage, the Heart proves it, but not to a point of planning his very own death." Julius scoffed.

"Both Sire's have been contacted by him, and from what they have told me, the old lord is planning something!" Rip hissed. "And I've been shattering my skull trying to figure it out."

Julius now had nothing to say. He, too, was aware the two masters were contacted by their former ruler, but paid no attention to it until now. Though he still remembered the short coma Havoc had fallen into after that kiss.

"We must be careful, Julius, for I am unsure if Arthur's plan includes us as essential."

Indeed, the Pristi of old truly were cold-hearted...well, the higher caste was. Minions were rarely sentient beings for them and only a means to an end. Surviving to an ripe age such as Rip's and Julius' was an achievement. And both of them had Merlin to thank for recognizing their natural brilliance. Sometimes Rip wished that bastard wizard got a hold of a Philosopher's Stone, but Nicholas arrived a century too late.

"The Tongue of Creation. Arthur was one of the rare ones to still retain such knowledge." Julius commented into the silent air. Rip nodded. "Funny how it died out so quickly,"

Both minions nodded in the silent confines of the deep catacombs of the Crucible.

* * *

><p>"What are our orders?" came a whisper. He turned and almost hit his face into a mask too close for either of their good. He shoved the masked face away. "If you are so eager to storm the house, rookie, why don't you join the Death Squads?" he growled.<p>

The rookie backed away further and shrunk when the two on either side gave mocking chuckles. "Clark, brief our tadpole over there while I scout ahead,"

"Sure thing,"

The wards shimmered and formed a bubble around the entire decrepit - but obviously inhabited - tower of misshapen houses on top of each other. He circled around it, taking note of all the exits and escape routes. The structure was old and had to have an escape tunnel of sorts but the previous georeadings showed no caverns or passages anywhere near. Though this was tech that the wizards had a knack to disrupt with their very presence.

The scouting and placing was done and he plopped back at the small hillock that they used as their staging area. The rookie had a determined look in his eyes while his comrade to his left fumbled with a stone inscribed with numerous runes. Using magic against them was strictly practical, and he had no qualms about it's use, though he prefered a gun more than a enchanted sword. "Got the Floo cut off?"

The man, Jacob, nodded his head. "Alright, shields on."

All four placed metal plates onto their chests and disappeared. He could see them still thanks to the enchanted lenses in his mask and lead on to the border of the wards. The magic kept them unnoticeable from most forms of magic and this one was certainly on the list. The wards didn't even register their existence as they passed and into the yard proper. This close he could hear the clattering of utensils and plates thanks to the mask's yet another enchantment. He unholstered his pistol like his comrades and they took breach positions around the crooked door.

He raised his hand and counted down. One...two...a grandfather clock rang...three. Jacob stepped forward and kicked the door in and rolled out of the way while Clark tossed a flashbang into the room. A second later the flash came with it's loud explosion. The rookie went in first, sword drawn and gun cocked. No resistance came and he followed with Jacob and Clark behind him.

The flashbang smoked in the middle of the wide hallway that lead to the living room. There were no wizards or witches here. The rookie was already up one flight of stairs while Clark and Jacob rushed to the living room and tossed yet another stun grenade into the dinning room.

"Clear." yelled Jacob when Jacob entered the dinning area. He gave a sign of going upstairs and joined the rookie. The house was huge and had a lot of room. This was an assignment for two or three squads, not one. "_They knew we were coming, chief._" came a whisper from Clark from inside the mask. "_Got a enchanted clock that had 'Mortal Peril' on it, must've dinged when to that when we were about to bust down the door._"

He cursed under his breath. Their element of surprise was squandered before getting a chance to use it. Now they must be waiting in an ambush. "_You wanna call this off?_" Jacob cut in. He wished he could, but he wasn't sure what fate awaited them then. It certainly wouldn't be a reassuring pat on the back and 'we understand' pep talk.

"We've got a job to do." he grimly answered and got a 'copy' in return. The rookie poked his head at the first landing and screened it with his pistol. "Clear, commander."

Commander followed and was glad to sense Clark and Jacob at his back again. Two doors were in this landing. Two each and proceeded to bust down at the same time. The bedrooms were empty. four more floors to go. The next three were empty as well; only more bedrooms.

The last floor must be where they are hiding. And indeed they were. A single door was heavily enchanted. Luckily their plates let them pass through many known wards and spells unhindered. Standard procedure. But this time Commander kicked down the door and the rookie tossed the flashbang. Enchanted as well, the grenade passed through the wards and into the room. There were no, however, bolts or shouts coming from the room. The flash came and Clark was the first to run in.

Jacob was about to follow in when Clark was slammed into him as he was being carried by a white phantom with two hands. The man gasped as his back hit the wall while Jacob remained run over on the floor. The rookie turned his pistol to bear but got a large knife lodged into his forearm for his trouble. Commander slashed with his sword in a downward slash but was blocked with a short sword. The white phantom was now actually a lean, tall armored assassin that had his stomach exposed.

Commander fired his gun and saw the bullet go a centimeter in before bouncing off the white metal. The damage was only a small dent. He jumped backwards and hit the wall. Cornered. The now obvious Pristi lunged at him in complete silence; and Commander realized the ringing in his ears were the screams coming from the rookie. The short sword slid down his own sword and stopped to only nick his throat when the phantom finally made a strong cry of pain and backed away. The side had a barely shallow cut that didn't even damage the armor.

The rookie must've swung his sword, and was rewarded with a swift decapitation. As the headless body fell, arterial gushes created a curtain of blood at the front and had already created a thick pool around Jacob. Clark lifted himself up and used the distracting death of his comrade to try and tackle their opponent.

Surprisingly, the phantom stood like a statue and Clark groaned when he slammed his shoulder into the unmovable back. Jacob was trying to lift himself up but with each attempt his hands slipped in the blood and went nose-first into the pool.

"ENOUGH!" the phantom shouted, issuing a thunder-clap that sent Clark flying over the railing and fell two stories before landing on the second floor and breaking his spine into a thousand pieces. Commander was launched back into the corner he had left moments ago and stars blinded him when he hit wall with the back of his head. The thunder-clap was created by magic, but remained a physical phenomenon, something their defenses ignored. His ears ringed painfully and was having a hard time concentrating on surviving.

Was there a point? Clark was dead along with the rookie, who didn't deserve the fate he got, and Jacob would follow soon enough. He struggled to maintain consciousness and think. He knew they needed backup...

* * *

><p>Russell Thorn stepped into the minion-filled tent in search of his lord with news from Zoran and Jorgen's mission. The boy's lover, Rex, went somewhere reclusive after interrogating the prisoner Thorn had captured during the mission to rescue Zoran and Jorgen. The minions were tense, glancing every moment at the door to their master's room with worry. Out of the group a minion that looked no different than the rest rose and approached him. "Master Thorn, what can I do for you?"<p>

Russell realized it was the minion commander going by the name of Krin. "I have to report to Havoc. Is he in his room?"

"The Sire is alone in his quarters though he might not be accepting anyone. He hasn't let either of us come in after disappearing for an hour or so," Krin didn't restrain himself from expressing doubt and uneasiness on his demonic face. "He also refuses to answer where had he disappeared to."

Thorn stepped over to the door, slightly worried if something had happened to his lord. He knocked first but got no reply. For the boy and his lover to become such recluses could only mean ill, however Russell refused to believe it without further evidence. He knocked again and still got nothing. He grasped the knob and turned it.

The door opened and Russell stepped in. The room was full of candles that formed a soothing ambiance and on the bed Havoc sat cross-legged with his eyes closed in meditation. The influx of energy hit Russell like a tsunami of raw magic. The entire room was pent up with the barely restrained primordial force when it was suddenly sucked into a infinitesimal point in Havoc's chest. The boy's eyes opened and they still retained the glow that slowly faded after.

"Ah, sorry, Russell. I've been distracted so I didn't hear you knock."

How Havoc used Thorn's name was unusual for the battle-hardened Pristi, they know little about each other to facilitate using names instead of surnames. But he let it go for now.

"You are here to tell me what Zoran has found out?"

"Yes, my lord. They found out that the swords the hunters wield are enchatned with unstable magic, a short-term enchantment that would degrade both the wielder and the weapon. Then they trailed the steel import to a shady goblin trader by the name of Fruck Nomok. The goblin perished during the interrogation due to a hidden curse placed upon him by the hunters."

He produced a crumpled parchment from his pocket that Jorgen had somehow hidden away when they were caught. Havoc took it and read the complex jargon and numbers only accountants could completely understand. It was obvious Havoc didn't understand much of this, either. "Enchanted steel? Fifty tons is quite a lot." he murmured. The swords they used were simple longswords that weighed at least a kilo, that would mean they have enough to produce fifty thousand swords in short time to equip a potent force.

"York...this must be dealt with now. They are obviously preparing for us, and we don't need hunters along with wizards and the muggle army to deal with after becoming emperor." Havoc sounded confident in his future as the ruler of the Pristi people. It was a good thing the boy had this confidence, but Russell hoped he won't let it go to his head.

"Unfortunately, we don't have an address. I will contact some of my muggle contacts to see if they could find out where the operation might be."

Havoc nodded in agreement, smiling at him. "I do intend to create a cohesive empire with the muggles, though I fear the integration would have a lot of problems."

"Perhaps assembling the empire should be kept as discreet as possible until you enforce your powerbase. You won't have much support after the tournament. Our people is no longer the warrior race as it used to be. All of the nations combined, we only have only ten thousand soldiers that is hardly enough to compete against the wizards and muggle forces." Russell watched his lord frown at his words. He had said something the boy hadn't thought of and hadn't taken into consideration.

"Ruling is far from easy, my lord." he said and crouched to be at eye level, his armor creaking from his movement. "Thats why you won't be alone in this. Rex..." he winced at the mention of the man's name; he still couldn't determine the man's interests and wished he didn't have to mention him. "he will most certainly be of great support." Russell had to admit, although reluctantly, that the man bellied considerable charisma and leadership skills.

Havoc smiled at him. "Your goal is a noble one, young lord," Russell patted the boy on the shoulder. "And I'm sure you will have many followers for your cause, but do not underestimate the enemies you will most certainly gain that wish for the current dynamic to continue."

The boy's green eyes narrowed. "And who would that be?" his tone was low and threatening. "The muggles have many power struggles, too. Nation against nation and I am afraid they will not take kindly to an abnormal empire to rise up that has the aid of the unknown regions. There will also be deep factions that want to stay hidden and killing the race that knows of their existence is more than welcome in their opinion."

"How do I prevent the muggles from attacking us? I only wish to help them by finally letting them into the fold, this divide between magic and non-magic is only causing problems." Havoc stood from the bed and walked over to the desk, so much uncertaintly swarming in his mind. And he realized how complex and hard this will be. The tournament is the easy part.

"Well, the muggles are an incredibly industrious people that favor pragmatism to a great degree," Russell rubbed his beard in thought, he had lived with the people for the better part of three and a half centuries. "Bringing the mix of magic and technology would be our safest bet, its new but still close to what they are used to. We need to present ourselves as welcoming and benevolent. Though some countries might still threaten with nuclear warfare."

He shivered at the thought. He had witnessed the destructive force of the bombs that fell on Hiroshima and Nagasaki that rivaled even the most powerful wizard's power. Though with magic they could easily terminate any nuclear missile sent against them. Still, it would be much better to avoid any kind of conflict of that kind.

"Nukes?" Havoc asked, his eyes now worried. He had read about Japan at the end of the second World War. No one will threaten his people with such horrible weapons! "You are right," he calmed himself. "We will have to contact all the major countries after I win this. Intimidate them with how easily we can reach their most important figures, but offer assistance and good relations."

Russell nodded in agreement. "A good strategy, my lord. But you must let me and Rex deal with the hunters, they could also hold high positions in the muggle political echelons along with wizard Pureblood families." Russell bowed. "Good luck in the final battle, my lord. We shall discuss the future back in the Crucible when you are emperor."

Havoc again smiled. "Thank you, Russell. It means a lot to me. And good luck to you as well."

Russell smiled, too, and stepped to the door. "I do not need luck, I'm too old for such a thing."

* * *

><p><strong>9k words is a new record for me, all the others were 8k or under. I just love expanding the OCs and I hope they aren't as one-dimensional, actually I ain't sure if they were one-dimensional in the first place... I really need an external perspective. So reviews are always welcome! Thank you for reading and see you in hapter 23!<strong>


	24. Draw Your Steel!

**Ladies and Gentlemen! Reviewers, Favorites and Alertists! Welcome to Chapter 23 of the Domination Anew saga!**

**Sorry for not updating in so long. Hadn't the inspiration to write the last segment in so long that every time I went to write it it just repulsed me. It's a tad shorter than the last two but I feel it should end like it does.**

**Thank you all for keeping with the story and enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 23<p>

Draw Your Steel!

The final match of the Ritus Regulae was about to begin. The coliseum had vanished from the low skyline of the encampment, replaced with a deep pit gouged out by some primordial serpent or dragon deep into the earth's crust. Along the wide border of the pit, small steps spiralled deeper down but were so ancient that great sections were gone and the only way down was using climbing gear.

Or the pods that hang precariously on steel cables on the pier that lead over to the center above the pit. Ancient stone morphed into one continuous slab that ended with a thick circle at it's tip where five metal pods hanged in equal distances around the edge. A small group of spectators escorted the five contestants; supporters of the five. Leading the contestants was the fair-haired announcer.

She stopped in the center of the circle and turned to face the five who will do battle and see who was indeed fit to rule the first race of beings created. The three stood rigidly, their mechanical suits weren't sensitive enough to reproduce their shuffling while the lizardman and the knight were obviously nervous. She had been awaiting this moment for so long, and now she would finally know who she was waiting for.

Louise wore a lighter variant of the mechanical armor with integrated holsters where two SMG's were strapped with a sniper in it's own sheath on her back. Her helmet has a large protrusion through the faceplate that looked like a scope. Atsuko also wore a lighter variant with strange emplacements connected all over her body and her back had softly glowing plates vibrating with energy. Adair was a lumbering hulk in his own armor that was incredibly thick with similar emplacements as Yukasa's. On his back two claymores of elvish design.

"The final battle is before you." she spoke, her voice amplified by magic and opening her hands. "Five remain and only one is destined to become the ruler after four hundred years."

The group behind cheered and whistled. Hisses and the various languages intermingled into a cacophony that could wake up the dead. She raised her hand and then silence. Looking at each of the warriors she spoke, "Step into the pods, warriors. And let the battle begin!"

When everyone was in their respective pods, the doors hissed shut and seconds later, the claws attached to the steel cables and holding the pods let go and the pods disappeared in the thick darkness of the pit.

Havoc's stomach was in his throat as suddenly gravity pulled him and his pod into the depths of the earth. Through his thick window he could see light gleaming off the top of the other pods and moments later they were gone. His own pod only has a small light that did little to illuminate the rest of the interior because his body already filled most of the pod. At eye level was a monitor that had numbers wildly counting down as he fell further and further. He has already fallen a kilometer when suddenly the whistling of the wind was replaced with violent jerks and screeching of metal.

His body slammed into the back of the pod and he took hold of two bars on either side of the door. Sparks illuminated the smooth rock he was sliding down on. The light flickered above him before dying out completely. The screeching ringed in Havoc's ears when he heard loud thumps and felt the pod hit something constantly. The uncomfortable ride lasted for half a minute when the monitor pinged at two kilometers and Havoc's body floated a tad bit off the pod's floor. Sharp light invaded through the window and he could see thick canopies of jungle trees before the pod slammed into the ground and bounced a couple of times before settling on it's side.

Havoc hadn't even realized he had his teeth clenched so tight that when he released them his jaw hurt. He let go of the bars and pressed the button that was supposed to open the door, but it didn't. He backed as far as he could and raised his foot to his waist and kicked the door out of its frame and into a pond of water and thick vegetation. What kind of stupid way of entry was this? Using pods that did little to protect the faller was beyond Havoc's mind, the only thing that kept him from getting bruises and broken bones was his armor.

Pushing the pod creator's stupidity out of his mind, Havoc stepped into the twilight of the jungle, seeing the rays of light coming from a source high above the jungle. The jungle brimmed with life, noises and smells that Havoc wished he never had the acquaintance of smelling. The fact there is a jungle this deep in the earth's crust was surprising and reminded him of the underground garden back at Crucible. The amount of magic surrounding him saturated his long-range sense, unable to sense anything that isn't in his direct line of sight.

He jumped into the puddle and felt something squirm under his foot and slip away. Not wishing to find out what it is, Havoc waded through the knee deep water and onto the shore of the pond totally confused as to what should he do. A beep came from the pod and Havoc turned to see four yellow lights blink around a panel in the side of the pod.

When he approached, the compartment opened to reveal a monitor that sprung to life. It was the announcer, her pale face having that indifferent smile as she always does. "Hello." she said flatly. "You have arrived at your destination, Loanar's Master Piece, with little discomfort I hope. The reason for this monitor is because your armor has no electronics and cannot uplink with the satellite or preserve data. The pod has a map of the area."

Havoc looked at the monitor with apprehension. The woman was speaking in the monotone tone like she was bored and not even caring if the contestant was hurt or not. "Your goal is to find the inner chamber of the pit. That is all you are given and good luck."

Find the inner chamber? And that's it? Havoc blinked as the monitor died and the indifferent face of the announcer disappeared in a flash. He stepped into the pod and searched for the hidden compartment when he found it in the bottom hid by a panel. Inside was the map and a blood-red stone in a leather bag. Well, nobody told him it would be easy, though they didn't tell him it would be this hard either.

He drew his sword, jumped back out of the pod and decided it would be best to find an elevated point to figure out where he is. And at least he has Voldemort to talk to...

* * *

><p>No God to press final judgment for his sins, no nothing of what he expected to be when he died. Instead he opened his eyes to a warmly lit room laying on a bed that he found very familiar. His body ached all over and found lots of bruises when he lifted the covers. He would have groaned if it hadn't have been trained out of him. At the foot of the bed were his clothes and he stood up to get them.<p>

Outside the rickety door came scrubbing sounds and mumblings. Ryan slowly put on his clothes and boots and went for the door. He knew he was still in the Weasley household, though he was baffled as to why was he still alive. He was sure they would put him somewhere far more forboding than this room or kill him outright. He tried the door but it was locked. The scrubbing outside stopped and then footsteps rang down the stairs.

"He's awake!" yelled a boy. The entire house stirred and minute later the stairs creaked with great weight as more people rushed up it. "Step away from the door." a woman this time called. Ryan did as he was told to and backed away till he touched the foot of the bed. The door unlocked and opened. A few feet from the door stood what Ryan remembered to be the Matriarch of the Weasley clan. In her hand was a wand, clutched tightly.

They stood there, looking at each other for a long moment when the white phantom from before stepped inside and took up a position at the side of the door, blinding white eyes glaring at him. With the guard there, the Matriarch followed in along with her husband while banishing the children downstairs. The twins whined while the two younger children did little to countermand their mother's order and left.

The door closed and Ryan was left with only enemies.

"Who are you?" she finally spoke after a tense minute of silence. "Ryan Glass, ma'am. You must be Molly and Arthur Weasley. Those Fred and George, you know the fellas along with Ronald and Ginny." Ryan spoke on reflex before he could bite his tongue. Molly Weasley was looking absolutely livid as he effectively proved he and his comrades were sent to either kill them or kidnap. And that was not a smart move.

Molly regained he composure with the assistance of her husband but was still not ready to speak. So Arthur continued the questioning. "What do you want with us?"

Ryan bit his lip, he couldn't say anything or the curse will kill him in a very uncomfortable way. Should he tell them he is cursed? Or simply refuse to answer it? Now that he looked at it, the Weasley's looked like decent folk, unlike how wizards had been described by his superiors. Until now he hunted those wicked warlocks and witches that utilized black magic, even some of the Death Eaters that attacked the muggle - as they liked to call normal people - populace.

He decided for the former, he had nothing to lose with it, and they - or the Pristi over there - must know of the fail safes if caught. "I cannot divulge that information as I would die the moment I try to tell you."

"Is that so?" finally the Pristi spoke, his voice of that a teenager but still strong and commanding. Ryan shrugged. "I have no reason to lie, Pristi. You can try and torture me and I will gladly kill myself, I do have the means." he looked into those bright spots without fear, he was trained to never fear the powerful beings even though he was a mere insect. Though this one was young; eighteen at most.

"Where is Jacob?"

The Weasleys looked at each other before responding. "He is still asleep." Arthur Weasley spoke first. The Pristi walked over to them and told them something in a hushed tone that Ryan couldn't catch. At first Molly looked adamant, but soon her husband joined the Pristi's side and and she crumbled.

"You are right, we aren't safe here anymore. Don't worry, we don't blame him for this." The Pristi's shoulders lowered slightly before walking over to Ryan and knocked him unconscious with a touch on the head.

Draco levitated the man out of the room, Molly and Arthur following behind. He mentally berated himself for being so ignorant as a child. Saying such horrible things about people that he had never met. Ron also was a git towards him because he was a Malfoy, but Draco had to admit that he was the arsehole first. Though he would never admit it openly, he would rather die. After spending a forced dinner with the people, he realized how welcoming and forigiving the Weasleys are. The children are still adamant to reconcile with him, and so was he but the Matriarch and her husband extended a hand in peace and he gladly took it.

When he learned that they took great care of Harry and became a family to him, Draco couldn't resent them any longer. How good they are was so glaring that even his stubbornness couldn't fight it and retain his vision that his father so foolishly imprinted in his head.

The assailants would be taken back to Crucible and see if the man was lying or indeed cursed to not speak of his organization. He stood outside the wards where he removed the stones that had some unknown function with the two unconscious hunters. The Weasleys stood on the border of the wards, the parents unsure if they should follow or stay.

"Madame Weasley, it is not safe here. They got through the wards without being noticed." Draco reminded the weary parents. Molly nodded regretfully. The children looked at their parents in disbelief.

"We're going with him?" Ron was the first to complain. Ginny was silent while Fred and George were about to pool in their forces to help their younger sibling when Molly raised his hand. "No, we're going to the Order."

The clan let out a breath in relief. Draco called for the portal and would take a minute to arrive. "Will you be safe there?" he asked. "Like you would care." Ron snapped at him. Draco narrowed his eyes at the petulant redhead but didn't let his temper get the best of him. "Of course I care, Weasel. Otherwise I wouldn't have left you to the hunters."

Molly turned to glare at Ron. "Ronald Weasley! Apologize this instant!" Ron blanched under his mother's rage and mumbled an apology Draco barely caught despite the hearing enhancements in his helmet. "Thank you."

Draco's smug smirk was hidden in his helmet but he sensed Ron was very much aware he was smirking. In the boy's eyes he could see knowledge why he was there that night and that glint remained in Draco's thoughts even as he gave a two-hands-clasped-over-his-chest bow in a Pristi gesture of farewell and returned back to the Crucible.

Vigil's eye greeted him and eyed the two unconscious men with curiosity. "Greetings, Master Malfoy. What shall I do with these two gentlemen?"

"To the dungeon with them. They attacked the Weasleys while I was there." that was explanation enough for the stone knight and several minions appeared to drag them away down one of the nondescript halls.

Draco knew that Ron and his twins had followed Severus back to Malfoy manor. The twin's magic was obvious and he quickly spotted the tracking gadget the twins had constructed as a prank device though it bordered on stalking. He had even sensed them looking through the window from the yard, but they didn't know that. Right now he let it pass, he would question them later.

Now he wondered how Havoc's tournament was going. Vigil still hadn't moved from where he floated off the ground. "How is Havoc doing?"

Vigil's eye shook with anticipation. "The young lord is currently going through the last challenge. Unfortunately that is all I can say, the entire complex is shrouded even to us."

"He will win, the foolish Gryffindor always gets through in the end." Draco said with certainty. Vigil floated away to adhere to his other duties when Draco felt the rush of energy come from behind. He turned to see Granger had arrived with the large groundskeeper of Hogwarts Rubeus Hagrid. The half-giant looked worse for wear since the day Havoc had so easily beaten him. He flinched when those big dark eyes fell upon him and recoiled in fear.

Hermione put a steadying hand on Hagrid's side. "Hello, Draco. What brings you back to the Crucible?" she asked.

"Brought some prisoners for Havoc and Rex to interrogate. They attacked the Weaseleys and luckily I was there at the time."

Hagrid gasped while Hermione frowned. "Are they okay?" she remembered how much fun she had with the Weasleys during her stay there and hoped her boyfriend has come to terms she was going with this. Draco nodded. "Not a scratch on them, if you worry, Granger."

"They stayed at the Burrow?"

"Went to the Order's place, wherever that is."

Hermione smiled, back at Grimauld's they should be safe. "Who attacked them?"

"Those hunters. Somehow they know the Weasleys have relations with Havoc and decided to attack. Anyway, need to help my father back at the manor, those imbeciles of Death Eaters can barely do anything properly." Draco scoffed and disappeared without another word.

Rubeus Hagrid regained his composure, finally coming to terms that the peaceful times as a groundskeeper of Hogwarts was gone. He wondered who Rex and Havoc characters were, though.

"You'll be shown to the baths, I will be with you. Relax, Hagrid. We're all friends here." Hermione gave him a smile for good measure before calling for two minions to lead the weary half-giant to the vast bath complex. Hagrid sent her looks a couple of times before disapppearing through a door with the minions who were cooing with interest at the man. Hermione needed Voldemort, and where Voldemort was, so was Havoc.

"Vigil." she called and instantly one of the stone knight's eyes arrived. It looked happy to see her. "It is nice to see you again, Mistress Hermione. What is it you require?"

"Where is Havoc?"

"Sire Havoc is competing in the tournament, of course, and can't be contacted. Apologies, Mistress." Hermione shook her head. "Thanks. How are you, Vigil?"

The magical eye's pupil widened in surprise. Vigil's voice came out unsure and almost stuttering. "I am fine, Mistress. Why? Do I look damaged?" worry laced his voice.

"No,no," Hermione quickly said. "You're fine, no damage. Just wanted to know if you're satisfied with all this going on."

Vigil bounced on his invisible strings that held him in the air. "Oh, this is more than I could have ever hoped for. To be the guardian of the home that will give birth to the new Empire is the greatest honor a construct such as me could ever achieve. Even my creator couldn't have expected such an outcome." Vigil was genuinely happy and brimming with mirth. Hermione realized how stupid of her was to ask for such an obvious thing.

"Well, if you got a complaint, don't restrain yourself to yell either my or Rip's ear off." she laughed. Vigil shook his eye hard. "That will never happen, Mistress."

With a happy bob to his flight, the eye went back to his duties. Hermione stood there, surrounded by the lively ambience, but her mind was clouded with the knowledge that was too easily gotten. The hint was not a hint but the answer and she had solved it a minute or two after regaining consciousness. If she was right, and Death didn't lie, then all she has to do is find all the other Horcruxes and destroy them so the soul pieces back together. But it couldn't be easy, either.

Well, she can do nothing until Havoc returns with Voldemort. Now she found herself lacking things to do. There was no homework, no studying and no impending tests to worry about. Lost...

Now her life is strictly based around Havoc and his cause. Her parents must be worried sick for her. Mom! Dad! Hermione realized with a start that she hadn't even contacted her parents in forever. She could only hope they hadn't been notified of the goings-on in Wizarding England. Without further thought, she disappeared back home to let her parents know she was okay.

* * *

><p>The intensely bright surfaces blinded Rex even through his eyelids. On them he saw the most intense light form an arch. He would avert his head away from the purging light but he was shackled by something he could only understand as solid light. He wished he had the power of his physical form, but here he was nothing more than a soul with no link to his immense power. He was trying to remember how he came about to be stripped of his body and appear here.<p>

He remembered searching the library top to bottom and being unable to find the book he sought. Then he thought of using the wizard technique of pulling out memories and inspecting them. He had everything quickly prepared and extracted the memory, a wisp of flowing white and deposited it into the pensieve. He pressed his face into the bowl and saw the book clear as day as he read it.

After that he returned to Hogwarts and recited those words in front of the pool from whence he came. The pool once again sprung at him and swallowed him. Somewhere during the tenuous journey through dimensions he must have been intercepted, Rex could only speculate as he was unaware during the journey.

The arch was suddenly filled with even stronger, cutting light of such magnitude Rex feared his very soul would burn up. "Who are you?"

The voice was female, angry and suspicious. And certainly not human by any stretch of imagination. Though he suspected who this entity might be. "Mother Goddess?" he asked, keeping the fear he felt from showing in his voice.

"I asked you a question!" she snapped at him. Rex scrunched his eyes to reduce the light. "I am Rex, Overlord and God of the Abyss. Might-"

A white-hot fleshy appendage whipped him across the face. It felt like he was slashed by a whip of molten lava and barely kept himself from crying out. "Silence." the woman hissed. "You could not possibly be my husband...tell me, have you slain my unfaithful husband?"

"The horrid creature that ruled the Abyss? You are the Mother Goddess." Rex said with satisfaction for figuring out who imprisoned him. "Have you slain him?" repeated the Mother Goddess, her tone dangerous.

"I have. He was easy to defeat. Unfortunately after his death I got stuck in the blasted realm."

"Ah...Finally you understand what my husband has never understood. He had full control of the dimension I had banished him to but was too stupid to not realize it before it was too late." The goddess' voice was now soft, happy. "You return from my brother's world with what interests?"

"I seek to help my loved one. Further than that I do not wish to divulge."

"Hmm, my brother has been long gone. Perhaps a god is sorely needed in that world, I hate to see it wither away. However you can only be a god in your realm, and cannot replace my brother as he still lives somewhere in the Mists. You are, on the other hand, a demigod in other worlds. I apologize for treating you unfairly, Rex, and make do what you wish of your domain but do not cross me. And keep the link open between your and their world, the bond will sever and kill your lover." The Mother Goddess finally finished and Rex woke up on the floor of the place where it all started.

He lifted himself off the floor and thought about how to gain full control of this place. And before heading out made sure the portal didn't close under any circumstance.

His quest led him to his old throne room where he had spent fifty years lounging and dying of boredom. Behind him clustered the wicked wraiths, forlorn and empty as always. He couldn't banish them from existence, not yet. Wherever he looked he found no way to achieve absolute rule until his eyes fell on the long-discarded Abyss stones that anchored the four domains together during the invasion of Rex's world. The big statues were inert, no longer holding any power whatsoever. But maybe they still have a use...

"Place them on top of each other." he ordered and the wraiths sped to do his bidding. Unlike his old minions, the wraiths did their assignments efficiently with no goofing around. Rex prefered having living servants than these husks. The Abyss stones towered above him and through the broken roof of his throne room. He could envision it even now: a scepter that only a god can wield proficiently. A scepter that will bring this ragtag domain into one uniform world under his command. In his mind it's shape formed and with one brutal strike against the surface broke the four stones in half and fused them together. The halves fell to either side and a tall strip of abysmal stone stood. It was almost four times his height.

In his grasp, the tall strip molded into a thick cylinder , the four Abyss stone cores fused together. He further moulded the indestructible rock into a scepter with a heavy head with blunt protrusions while the butt had a long blade. Rex summoned the almost blood-red sand to his hands and smelted it in his hands into red glass, fusing it with the scepter. Intricate spirals and details snaked their way up the shaft and formed a beautiful net around the perfect head of the mace. The rest flowed and turned the stone blade's edge even sharper.

The hilt was long and his hands easily slid down the smooth spiral black stone, letting him use both the blade and mace in swinging motions.

A little gold he summoned from a golden axe one of his minions had left during the escape finished the scepter with Havoc's name inscribed in gold and the weapon thrummed with energy. It has become what it is because Rex willed it to be. Now with a symbol of power, the dimension was truly under his command.

The wind ceased blowing and the bones and armor of the wraiths rattled in awe. Rex turned and pointed the mace at the wraiths, the crimson glass glowing with power of a god. "Begone with you!" he shouted and the wraiths were blasted away into bones and scraps of armor, their evil souls banished to wander the Mists for eternity. Next he slammed the blade deep into the cracked stone floor and the throne room was swept away into nothingness, leaving him on a marble floor while around him rose the walls of his old home: the Dark Tower.

The rest of his realm was a canvas he will paint with Havoc once he brings him here. He settled the heavy scepter that was light to him onto his shoulder and started a slow walk back to his home.

As he walked, grass growed beneath his feet and the barren wasteland was reshaped into a blossoming valley with a deep crag running the middle of it. Deep below churned lava with strange inhabitants that formed on Rex's whim. His mind was elsewhere on the topic of marriage and his recently acquired potential adversary he wished he hadn't met at all.

Marrying even after the Empire is established was too soon, for Rex and most certainly for Havoc. He oughta slap himself for even suggesting it and then entertaining the boy's thoughts of it. It might hurt his feelings, but Rex was absolutely sure that going in that direction would only prove to be a nuisance and waste of time. A fledgling Empire has no need for their rulers to lolly gag around with weddings while diplomacy must be performed and battles fought.

The Goddess is a wild card Rex couldn't take care of even with these powers. She has an eternity of experience and power that dwarfs Rex into a miniscule speck of dust. There was only hope that she wouldn't find something about him or what he was doing in her brother's world insulting. As far as he was aware, the deity has been long gone and looks to not be eager to come back. Rex noticed that the Goddess was slightly worried when she spoke of her brother's strange departure.

Behind him white stone that glistens in the blood-red sun formed and created a path towards the large tower of black and white marble with large spikes and towers jutting from it's thick walls. It was just like Rex remembered it to the smallest detail, and it looked brooding in the dark light just like it always had. Rex himself was not one for grandeur but having a piece of home made him feel a lot better. The forest and hills were swept away like dust along with the wretched Heroes that had left him for dead and the farces of their existence; their souls, too, banished into the Mists.

As he stepped before the library, the mist and darkness was driven away by his presence and the cracked walls breathed in for the first time. The stone shone with life, the bookshelves lining the circular chamber moved into an unpright position and gained the oak colour it had lost during the years of abandonment. The light, however, still refused to come close to the pool of viscous fluid with the capabilities of sending one through worlds. It's surface rippled as if something consistently moved through it.

Suddenly pain flared inside him and it took Rex a couple of moments to realize that it wasn't him that was hurt; it was Havoc. It must have been so intense it had penetrated the veil Rex had lifted to ward off any unnecessary emotions from Havoc; just like the last time that was even more painful. Well, not so unnecessary as much as distracting. Distractions were when he wasn't tasked with things of great import and he knew that this trend will go on for a long time until they establish some kind of stable semblance of an Empire. Rex wondered if Havoc was actually pissed or even noticed that they hadn't been feeling each other for quite sometime. Perhaps he is so focused on the tournament he has forgotten it all together.

Rex warded of the worry, but still rushed through the void between worlds was abandoned as always and Rex left for the Crucible where, surprisingly, Rip awaited him.

The minion looked just like always, but Rex noticed a shift in his posture. Rip's globes for eyes trailed over him and stopped for a moment at his hip where the scepter - no longer large - hanged like a small club with a dagger for a handle, and paid no heed to it.

* * *

><p><em>"Spare me, Potter, of your prattling."<em> Voldemort groaned from his sheath as Havoc climbed and jumped up the thick branches that were steadily becoming morse sparse and thinner the higher he went. As he looked up, he could see through the branches the gray stone ceiling that arched over the self sufficient ecosystem, rays of the artificial sun running to the other side like ethereal bars of gold. The canopy was still too thick to see anything and Havoc continued his climb until he was right at the top.

The jungle was far bigger than he had expected and even had the effect of the distant fog that clouded his vision of the farther parts of the jungle. Up above was the sun, as if a shard of the Sun itself was torn from it and imprisoned in this beautiful and dangerous cavern, incapable of becoming one with the Sun far above. The green canopies were almost a bleached white as they reflected the close source of light and there was a structure of gray blotched with green. It rose high above the jungle and almost touched the artifical sun with a jagged tip of rock.

"You really are a git, Voldemort, you know that." it was a rhetorical question. Asking Voldemort that was a waste of breath, but it was banter, and that is what Havoc wanted. Voldemort enjoyed being a git, it was out of the question. Perhaps being handed down generations of Immortals would humble him enough.

Voldemort didn't respond, but Havoc could sense the annoyance that thrummed at his hip. _"Guard yourself!" _Voldemort suddenly hissed.

A moment later Havoc heard a gunshot, a piercing sound that told of a heavy caliber gun. Pain flared in his hand and he saw that his left hand had a hole in it, through the armor, flesh and bone. Blood flowed over the torn branch he was holding and he fell backwards. Before losing sight of the view, he managed to see a blue-white jet of something rise into the air and slam into the top of a tree. His back and stomach collided with the branches as he fell down, each knocking the breath out of him and sending shocks of pain through his entire torso. After an eternity of falling he fell face first into a puddle of murky, filthy water. The water rushed into his face and flooded his helmet and armor with it's putrid decay. While the jungle looks beautiful from up on high, the marshes below weren't a pleasant sight. Or taste.

Havoc lifted himself out of the water and coughed out the water he had choked on, his throat and lungs burning. His eyes were full of specks and debris of decayed wood that he had to remove his helmet and roughly wipe his face. A bout of rage evaporated the puddle around him and sent the dirt on his body flying off of him along with a hot cleanse inside the armor. Something warm dripped down his cheek and he realized he had wiped his face with his left hand, the hand he was shot through.

The hole was rather large and started to hurt when he paid attention to it. He closed his eyes and directed his energy into the gaping hole in his palm. The bone painfully restructured and the flesh knit itself. Moments later only the hole in his gauntlet remained that also began to knit itself back together. Havoc replaced the helmet back on and started in the direction of the tree from where the shot came. At his hip and now in his hands, Havoc could feel Voldemort's amusement at his pain. Oh yes, Voldemort is going to be humbled indeed.

As he made his way in the direction of that tree he saw, his fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword with restrained anger. The anger was very much uncalled for; this is a competition in strength and tactics that doesn't exclude pain and wounds. All of them are bound to get hurt in the process.

That short period of distraction was long enough for Havoc to realize he had stumbled into a trap. Suddenly his left shoulder blade burst with pain as something dug it's way into his flesh. He fell on the moist ground with a cry and he could feel the bright, living and breathing conduit burn in the back of his mind. "A surprise attack is the easiest way to kill a Pristi," came a hiss. Razz Kota.

"Indeed," spoke a mechanical voice. Havoc, through painful clarity, felt something large pass over his head; felt the weapon lodged in his back be ripped out violently; felt the heavy presence above him disappear. Almost on instinct, Havoc flooded the wound with energy and rushed the flesh to knit itself back like his hand. The feeling of the wound was still surreal and unsettling. He lifted himself up and narrowly blocked as a heavy slab of metal swung at him.

His hands and teeth rattled as the two swords came together and was pushed back into a tree. The towering figure of Adair appeared in green and brown visage of metal. At his mud-caked boots groaned Razz with a long, deep gash in his side that was being slowly closed by the scales. Adair lifted one of his claymores and drove it through Razz's chest who hissed before vanishing in blinding light, leaving only a small puddle of blood behind.

Havoc gasped. Adair cocked his head as he looked at him. "What? You care for the lizard?"

"Of course I do! Why shouldn't I?"

"What do you want, fledgling?"

Havoc blinked. "What do I want?"

"Yes," Adair unsheathed his second claymore and held each in one hand as if they were nothing. "Why are you here? What foolishness motivates you to send my entire race into a downward spiral of death and destruction that will only bear fruits of this world coming to an end?"

"Our race," Havoc corrected. "I-" he began but Adair swung one of his claymores at him. He blocked it and backed away, out of range. "No! You are not a Pristi! You never were," Adair shouted. "You are not like us, you are an exile that has no business here. You don't know our history, our habits, our customs!"

A second swing that was only an inch short of Havoc's face. The slab of metal cut air and Havoc could smell the enchantments buzz inside the metal. "You are nothing more than a selfish whelp who thinks he is always right and that all he does is what everyone agrees to."

"But don't you see that if we continued like this, there would be no more Pristi," Havoc managed to put a word in when Adair lunged this time. The swords screeched as they struck each other. "This is not the way to preserve us, boy," Adair growled and swung again. Havoc dodged yet again. "Setting the entire world against us makes it even worse. Your actions have even now reduced our chances dramatically, and we are still so far from finding a way to escape this wretched world we are bound to."

"A way off this world..." Havoc thought for a dangerous moment. Adair took his chance and lunged with both swords. The right slid across Havoc's side while the other struck true. Havoc screamed as the enchanted metal bit into him ever deeper, burning him from the inside. The pain was excruciating, like his entire abdomen was being torn apart by claws. His vision darkened for a moment when he remembered the pain he had to endure to heal Neville's parents.

Its a philosophy long in the making. Havoc's first teacher was Vernon Dursley with his tortures; a regiment of body and mind destruction that turned Havoc into a hardened boy that took anything else from the world without a sound. The lack of parents is also an integral part to his philosophy, he never felt the love and shelter that an ordinary child would feel at all times. No, he was forged by the cold of the world. Pain, Havoc realized long ago, made things look clear and more vivid than ever before. It was cold, hard reality in it's purest form. Voldemort's role could not be ignored as he was the one to put the finishing touches to the first shape of Havoc's philosophy. Of course, the Philosophy of Pain, as Havoc had dubbed it in his mind, is not for the weak of heart as Havoc himself was at the time. Pain on its own can't sustain him as it had for so long. Feeling the friendship that Ron and Hermione offered him had made him dependant on it, yet another resource that Havoc needed to sustain himself. And the recent lesson he gained from Neville's parents was a vital one, something that will most certainly make him unbeatable.

The blade tore into him with gluttonous hunger and he forced himself to welcome it. Even he is barely above a neophyte in his doctrine, going farther would make it natural to adopt the pain as yet another fact of life and use it's power for his own. He used magic to rearrange his organs as far as possible from the blade, leaving quivering and bleeding muscle alone to hurt. The sword has tore out of his back and Havoc pushed himself down the shaft of the blade until he was but a step away from Adair's disbelieving eyes.

"This is a mortal wound!" Adair shouted as he raised his other claymore in obvious desperation. It went down in an arc but Havoc met it with his sword and batted it away. "You should be gone," Adair hissed. Havoc pressed himself against the hilt of the sword, his blood coating Adair's side and hand and filling the blade engravings in like some morbid ritual. In the vivid clarity of pain, he could see every small detail on the once pristine white armor now coated in moss, mud and blood. How the light reflected off the clean spots in gold needles of light. Adair was positively glowing with both the light, fear, and power. He could sense a sudden accumulation of energy behind Adair and suddenly he felt the sword jostle his organs inside him as both of them went into motion.

Havoc felt like they were flying and it proved true when he looked at the floor moving like a blur beneath their feet. A moment later the pain lanced through his already numb body when the sword lodged itself into a tree with him still on it.

"Whatever you are doing, stop! Berserker! Stop!" Havoc could hear Adair plead desperately. He looked at the faceplate, imagining the cultured features of a faux elf be distraught with fear and was sickened by it. He raised his sword, still in a tight grip, and slammed it downward into Adair's chest. A mechanical gasp came out. "Damn you..."

The vibrant vision pain gave Havoc was now gone as Adair disappeared in blinding white light along with the sword that was lodged inside him. He fell on his knees and collapsed, his ears buzzing with the loud batting of insect wing and small cries of something living inside of him.

* * *

><p><strong>I know I could have done it better and longer, or atleast I think I could... Either way this chapter is finally done after sitting unfinished for two months. I hope you guys like the appearance of Mother Goddess and Death from last chapter. Keep reviewing, don't be afraid to comment on something and I will be seeing you guys in Chapter 24!<strong>


	25. The Last Challenge

**Hello dear Reviwers, Favourites, Followers and Alertists! The final Chapter is out and will be followed by a short epilogue. After writing it for 2 and a half years, it was an interesting and very fun journey writing this. I have most certainly grown as a writer and had expanded one simple idea of Harry and Overlord X-over into something more solid, and I'm glad you people where here to see it and accompany me on my journey.**

**This last chapter won't be having a bombastic ending as it has too much to continue on to have a closing ending. There will be a sequel, the saga has only begun.**

**Enjoy and R&R!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 24<p>

The Last Challenge

The garden is just as Hermione remembered it to be in the last days of winter. Green interspersed with brown and black of plants that will have to be replaced. Right next to the garden underneath the window was the drive with one car outside and the other parked inside the garage. Both parents frequently needed to go on appointments so they took each a car. The sky was a gun metal gray with clouds accumulating at a rapid pace, preparing to rain. Hermione flinched as a cold sharp wind went across her body, the vest she wore was hardly enough to ward off the still very present cold.

If the situation wasn't as it is, Hermione would have rushed home, but she couldn't just walk in as if she was never gone. They most certainly must be aware of what has been going on for the past month. She stepped carefully on the cobblestone path leading to the white door of her childhood home.

In the end Hermione has no explanation to give them except admit that she lost her head in the moment and barely had any coherent thought about the future. She won't even try to defend herself and felt that she deserved to be scolded. What she did was cause them unimaginable grief and worry of where their daughter might be when they suddenly disappeared along with Harry Potter from St. Mungo's.

Her every step felt like a leap closer to the awkward situation she is about to enter. When she stopped at the door, she felt like a stranger that has come to tell the parents inside their daughter is gone and someone took her place. Mom and Dad took her being a witch rather well, so being a Pristi shouldn't be a problem, Hermione hoped.

Still feeling like a stranger, Hermione rang the bell and heard the familiar scrape of a chair as dad always did when he sat up from his reading to go open the door. The door opened and a long-faced brown-haired man stood on the doorstep. First came confusion, then worry and finally relief. In an uncharacteristic act, Hermione's father pulled his daughter into the house and slammed the door, locking it tightly.

"Oh, Hermione! You are alright." William hugged a stiff Hermione, holding her as if he feared he might break her. Lisa stepped into the foyer, wondering who was at the door when she saw her daughter that she had been worrying over for the last week. "Hermione!" was all she said before joining in the embrace.

"When we heard from Molly you disappeared when visiting the Potter boy, we were worried sick."

"I know mom," Hermione mumbled against her father's chest. "I should have come back sooner."

William and Lisa released their daughter who now looked frazzled and ashamed. "Let's get you some tea." Lisa said and went into the kitchen. Hermione nodded weakly and followed with her father at her side. They sat at the table while Lisa put the kettle. William sat right next to Hermione and put his hand over her's.

"Where have you been?" the question Hermione expected but found herself lost for words.

"I-" she wanted to start when she saw a shadow pass by the window. Mom and Dad seemed to not have noticed it. "What is it, love?" William asked, worry evident in his voice. Hermione stood up, remembering what Draco had said recently. He said that those hunters had attacked the Weasley's because of their connections to Harry. They probably know of her parents, too. She rose up immediately and went for the backdoor that led into the yard.

William followed her, asking what was going on. Hermione focused on the door and snapped every single ward she knew on the top of her head and put some custom wards in the flurry of spells. Now she could feel the burning dots of contained magic stop at the door on either side. "Dad, get mom into the basement, now!"

William looked at his daughter like he had never seen her like this, then nodded and ran into the kitchen where the kettle whistled. Hermione went around, sending wards all over the house with a thought. If she wasn't in acute dread, she would have been happy to fling spells with such ease. After every wall, window and door has been warded, she descended down into the basement where her parents stood, more worry than fear in their expressions.

"What is happening, Hermione? Why are we in the basement?" Lisa asked, looking back and forth between her daughter and husband. "I agree, what is going on, love?"

"There are people that are hunting Harry and everyone that knows him." Hermione said breathlessly as she flung spells at the door. When she looked back she saw realisation dawn on their faces. "But why? Is it the Death Eaters?" William asked, his voice was careful.

"I wish," Hermione murmured to herself. "No. They hunt Pristi, but don't have many reservations killing muggles and wizards all the same." she said scathingly. She heard her mother gasp. "Sorry,"

"There is nothing to be sorry about," William said as comfortingly a person could be while hiding from an unknown threat. "But who are these Pristi?"

"It will take too long to explain, we need to get out of here fast." Hermione said, cursing at the time it will take for the Crucible to send a portal here. Five minutes. Hopefully her wards will last long enough until then.

The acute feeling of shattered magic came like a wave in the direction of the back door, and soon a cascade effect in five second intervals hammered at her then a long pause of half a minute. The balls of energy wandered through the house. In her mind, Hermione could sense three wizards or witches first check the ground floor then go upstairs with meticulous precision. The distinct lack of wards upstairs must've tipped them off nobody was upstairs. The very presence of wards let them know a Pristi was in the house. Perhaps warding wasn't such a bright idea, after all.

Barely a minute passed when the three orbs congregated at the basement door, probing the wards with some unknown instruments. Hermione latched onto the wards on the door and fed power into them. Then a great jolt rand down her tendril and slammed into her core as something detonated against the wards. Hermione couldn't kep out the surprised and hurt yelp from escaping. William was instantly at her side.

"What's happening?"

"Stay back," Hermione pushed her father away and glared at the door. Yet another detonation shook her and her core let out a very unharmonious vibration through her. She wondered if the explosions will break her core.

The detonations were going off for a whole minute when Hermione was on her last legs. She could feel the magic around her dwindle as she consumed it and concentrated it into the door that the hunters were so stubbornly trying to bring down. Hermione counted down the last minute to arrival, preparing the wards into a deadly explosive that would be released the moment the connection to her was severed.

A dozen more tremors slammed into her, her core groaning in her ears like a sinking ship that is being steadily crushed by the pressure of the depths. Her eyes were full of spots. She vaguely felt somebody hold her when finally a plate rose out of the floor from underneath her and she finally felt the comforting sensation of being one with the world.

* * *

><p>To have power of a god at your fingertips, Rex expected to feel empowered, confident and proud. But he was none of those things. He felt no different than before, even when he grasped the physical link to his power. It was a power that he had never truly desired when he had come to the realisation that what had motivated him during his tenure as Overlord was vengeance, vengeance for being left to rot by his former comrades who turned into the very things they once fought against. As each fell, the less and less driven Rex was becoming. In the end he was a grey eminence when it came to business of state, if you could call it that.<p>

The world where Rex grew up was barren of any proper civilisation. The village of Spree and its castle were the closest to something like that. As far as Rex knew, or remembered, that settlement and his tower where the only structures of living civilisation on the entire continent. The elves, dwarves and hobbits could be called a civilisation, too if Rex hadn't destroyed the latter and former, while additionally defacing what remained of the pompous elves. As he now looked at it, Rex suspected that that world might be dying. Everything was falling apart at the seams if one looked close enough.

Indeed, Rex had no idea what to do with the world he had abandoned by mere mishap. He supposed that he would have retired early on and let Rose handle the affairs, perhaps even go with her to discover the world and its secrets. But that was a long time ago that never happened. The only reason he still holds this power is because of Havoc. If it werent for the boy's such shattered but bright light, Rex figured he would have ended his life at this point from grief and absolute loss of purpose, a fate of every manipulated tool without an anchor. Yes, Rex was aware Gnarl had deceived him for the Second Overlord, but still he had cared for the minion master.

Rip and Krin were an interesting pair of minions that Rex had never met before. Rip was very much like Gnarl, but a lot younger and inexperienced, though he did compensate it with sharp wit and hot blood of still remaining youth. Krin was a commander's dream; a obedient and professional officer that always knew what the right course of action was. Both minions are incredible assets that Rex would miss incredibly should they perish. Such loyalty is beyond what he could find in any friend.

He brought the bow to the four strings that were capable of purest music that he had heard come into being, apart from the crystalline harmonics he had frequently heard while walking through the elven ruins, but they were tinged with sorrow and suffering. As he ran the bow over the strings did a knock come from the door of his and Havoc's chamber. He gently placed the instrument into its case and opened the door.

"Sire, there are urgent matters to attend to." Rip said as the door opened. Rex stepped out and closed the door behind. He could hear a commotion coming farther down the hall. Rip was already in the midst of the long rows of knights and Rex followed. They came to a small group. Rex recognized Jorgen, Russell's wife and her children around two strangers who were obviously bemused by the group.

"Mrs. and Mr. Granger? You must be the parents of the girl." said Maria. "What is going on?" Rex asked as he stopped to look at the arrivals. Vigil's eye floated past Rex and stopped beside Jorgen and they started conversing in hushed tones. Rex had expected the dwarf to remain at Zoran's side, he must be healing very well, though not the same could be said for the lad's left hand.

"Where is Hermione?" Mrs. Granger asked, her tone on the verge of panic. Rex approached and saw that his red eyes and stature were intimidating the two strangers so he put on a less regal posture. "Has your daughter brought you here?"

"Y-yes, somebody attacked us, Hermione said they hunt Pristi, whoever they are." Mr. Granger said, obviously lost in this situation completely. "Can we see our daughter?"

Rex turned to look at Rip. "Make the arrangements for them, I suspect they will stay here until the hunters are dealt with." Rip nodded and managed to persuade the two to follow him despite looking like a dreadful thing with wicked teeth. Rex rubbed his forehead. The Crucible was now more like a inn than a vault from some ancient family of Pristi. When he removed his arm, he saw Maria and her children start for their room. "Maria," he called. The woman stopped, slightly shocked that he had called her by her first name.

"Sorry, but we have never met properly." Rex said and gave a shallow bow. Maria gave a courtsey that didn't really work in jeans and cotton vest. Lisa and Jason gave a courtsey and bow, respectively. Rex gave them both a smile, there is no reason to intimidate the children further than the hunters had.

"Rex, I presume." Maria said with a small smile. "My reputation precedes me, I see."

"My name Jason." Jason introduced himself. "My name is Lisa." Lisa joined in. "A pleasure to meet you," Rex nodded at each of them. "Go back to the room and I will call you when lunch is ready."

The children disappeared behind a door where the Russell family has been settled, leaving Rex and Maria alone. "How has your stay been here? Comfortable?" Rex now really felt like an innkeeper. Maria nodded. "The room is very extravagant. Young immortal has quite the home."

"Might I ask, where has Russell gone?" her question was innocent, but the way she asked bellied something negative.

"He is investigating the lead Zoran and Jorgen brought from their mission," Rex answered. Maria frowned. "I believe that you have no right to order my husband around, understand? Just because he foolishly swore fealty to your lover doesn't mean you can do with him whatever you please." her tone was harsh and accusatory. Rex wondered from where did that come from, perhaps from Zoran's mother and the latest events.

"Neither I, nor Havoc, ask of him what he is not willing to do. As far as I understand your husband, he won't do what he thinks is wrong." Rex rebutted. "And some advice, do not antagonize the hand that feeds you,"

Silence fell, Rex's and Maria's eyes locked until the woman relented and stiffly walked away. Rex watched her disappear behind the door the children had gone through just a minute ago before frowning. The woman was headstrong, and her gaze passionate. At one moment Rex had feared he would be the one to relent.

He started down the long hall and stopped at the door into Zoran's room. For all the lad had risked and lost, he deserved to face the person who had ordered him into danger in the first place. The room was like all the others, except the main bedroom he and Havoc shared. A bed with a carved wooden frame, sheets of velvet and cotton dyed navy blue and Rex noted each room had the colour different. A rich and heavy closet for clothes, two chests on either side and a small dining table beside a wall. One of the chairs was missing, as it was taken by Zoran's mother to stay at her son's side.

Vedrana looked at the door, her youthful face creased with worry, but her eyes shone with hope. The glow dimmed when she realized it was Rex. He wasn't that popular with them, was he. Rex was at the foot of the bed in five long strides, his hands behind his back that he had the habit of holding while out of armor.

"To be honest, I never thought that either of us would get hurt," Vedrana began, lovingly gazing at her sleeping son. "Foolish of me to have thought to stay out of this and just sit it out. Us mothers really become reckless when our children are at stake. I just want you to know that I don't blame you for what happened to Zoran, If anything, we should be the ones sacrificing everything we have for this cause since we started it."

Rex was stunned. He expected the fires of a mother scorned to burn him to a crisp. If not that, he expected at least somekind of fury. The sight of a woman realizing what she had done was shattering. "You are not to blame, without you Havoc and I wouldn't have probably never stood a chance alone. I am deeply sorry for not taking better care of your son while he was risking his life for us."

Vedrana shook her head. "What is done is done. In the end we must all give something for what is right. I am glad that Zoran only had to give his hand, while others will give their lives. Blaming the person who gave the orders without knowing who he is fighting against is only going to make things worse. We are in this together, Rex, and we might as well trudge through it."

"It wasn't our right to ask something like that from your son-" Rex continued but stopped when Vedrana whipped him with an angry look. "Enough," she said. "Enough of this topic."

Rex took the signal to leave, and felt annoyed by his careless manners as he left the room. Zoran's crippling injury hung grimly in his mind. Unlike the absolute devotion of the minions that sacrificed themselves if he wanted them to, the people he and Havoc lead have their own desires and motives for joining the cause and can't be tossed like tools. Neither Havoc nor Rex had thought about the possible danger the dwarf and Pristi were being sent into.

Havoc...Rex hadn't connected to Havoc in quite some time and hasn't been in the loop of the tournament. He opened himself to the bond and only felt the unconscious static of emotional void. The emptiness was unnerving, as if he was looking into the farthest reaches of space where no starlight had ever reached. In the void, he sensed an underlying ebb and flow of life that was Havoc's, and there is yet another, a lot weaker than Havoc's but still there, like a parasite latching onto his lover's tie to this world. It was something Rex hadn't felt at all until now. Worry seeped into him and a great number of different scenarios swept him off his feet.

He rushed back to his room and put on a jacket before calling his portal to the Alps. Twenty minutes until it connected, but Rex couldn't wait that long without something distracting him. He stepped out of the room and found Rip waddling with scrolls in his claws. The minion stopped when he saw Rex come to him in a flurry of large legs.

"Is something the matter, Sire?" Rip recognized discomfort on his lord's face and knew something had gone wrong with Havoc. Captured? Hurt? Did he lose the tournament?

"Havoc's emotions are absent in the bond we share, and all I can feel is something living that doesn't belong there," Rex grumbled, but Rip could see the panicked concern. "As if some parasite has latched onto him. I fear that it might be the cause."

Rip frowned. In his mind the pieces were starting to put together that were left alone until now. The picture is still skewed to make anything out of it, but the frame is almost complete to give him a general idea of his former master's plans. He looked at Rex and continued waddling to his study with the scrolls. Rex's heavy footfalls from behind were loud in the empty hall. "Are you heading to the tournament, then?"

"I am," Rex's response was curt, to the point. "But I want you to continue to search for the hives, especially the blue ones as we cannot interrogate the two prisoners we have without them."

"I am well aware of that, Sire. And these scrolls might hold the answers. I will handle matters here, you needn't worry." Rip disguised his own worry expertly thanks to the experience he had acquired while living in the courts for most of his five-centuries-long life. It could be paranoia or just simple concern for the cause of finally saving the Pristi race from extinction that made Rip worry about his masters. They were kind, passionate and just; qualities he hadn't expected to appreciate until now. He still harbored the darkness inherent to his kind, listened to it's counsel, but found the words sometimes harsh and unwelcoming.

Whether these changes were good or bad for the future, Rip couldn't say. But he hoped they were right and strong enough to weather the rising storm they themselves had stirred into motion. Rip felt that spark of unswerving loyalty flare up inside him. "Go, my lord. The Sire needs you."

* * *

><p>The flesh pulsed painfully as sluggish blood flowed under the bruised skin. The purple expanse covered the entirety of the silky smooth skin of its body. Reformed bones ached and cracked as they sprung to life under the tightening of burning muscle. A purple arm rose and grabbed hold of the nearest chair, wrapping fingers the thickness of a spider's legs around it's back. Narrow shoulders and long neck followed. On the neck was perched a chiseled face, also purple from the one massive bruise that encompassed its body. Long locks of snow-white hair curled around the neck, eyes and cheeks, setting a stark contrast between the deep purple and pure white. Purple lips opened and shivered as it inhaled its first breath after a long time of absence.<p>

It settled itself into the chair like a broken marionette with jerky movements and spasms. Long time since it moved a corporeal body. The randomly shooting nerves weren't easing the acclimation at all. They were unnerving and uncomfortable, sending almost drowning sensations through its body like lightning bolts. It couldn't even remember how long it has been dead. Only an acute sense of a long time vaguely gave that information.

Its eyelids are heavy, moving its eyes was an effort on its own. Sparks and flashes lit up its vision as the eyes started to function properly after being restructured and changed from the ground up. Its hearing slowly turned sharp and it could hear a low wind whistle from somewhere farther away. Next was the nose, smells of mold and paper filled its nose and lungs with every shaky breath. Chest hurt, lungs hurt, everything hurt. Frustration flared up and the sudden energy was enough for it to open its eyes.

A familiar darkness surrounded it. It was so alike the darkness one experienced in death, but lacked the distinct quality of hopeless isolation. Isolated from its love for an eternity. This darkness was cold and its bruised skin tightened. Painfully so. it cried and it didn't recognize its voice. It was thin, slightly high-pitched, so unlike the voice it once had; a deep baritone and a soft mezzo-soprano. It wanted to hear itself again but couldn't muster up the strength to raise it any higher than a hoarse moan.

Is this body so weak, it worriedly thought. Fear and worry was quickly stamped into oblivion by cold hard logic. The body is still repairing itself and doesn't have the energy to spare for something useless as speaking right now. But maybe it could give a bit for something else, then.

A small light sprang to life on top of a small candlestick on the table in front of it. It cast its meek light over the table but was too weak to go any farther from the tables borders. it could only stare at the flickering light, remembering the horrible imprisonment of the cold abyss of death. It raised its hands and moved them over to the candle, cupping it in its purple palms. In a way, the pain was reassuring. It consistently reminded it that the plan had worked and it is back with its love in tow.

A small smile crossed the bruised lips.

* * *

><p>Havoc opened his eyes to a battlefield.<p>

Men and women lay dead or dying, dressed in armor or robes, with steel or wands at their sides. Among them were humanoid shapes of what look to be werewolves, giants and other horrible creatures, and they lay in heaps of flesh while wizards and Pristi fight like rabid animals. Havoc's view shifted on its own just as a long, thin gush of arterial blood fly past his face. He wasn't in control of what he saw and he watched as the person through whose eyes he watched turned to face the direction the blood came from.

It was a garrish sight. A man was being bodily torn apart by a hulking werewolf by both claw and maw. Just then an arm came off despite the almost seamless quality to the armor that made Havoc think it would never be able to be ripped apart, and it flew into the air and landing somewhere in the huge battle. The beast let go of what remained of its adversary and lunged at Havoc. The person easily dodged the werewolf with unnatural speed and brought down a war hammer of immense weight onto its head. A sickening crack was still audible despite the clamor of swords and spells. It died instantly and the person paid no more heed to it.

He, or she, moved with purpose through the fighting, frequently slewing mage and monster with cold precision and brutal effectiveness. Many soldiers were caught in a helpless situation that this powerful person rectified with a powerful spell that disintegrated enemies at the flick of a wrist. Havoc hoped he would never meet a person such as this. The almost casual walk lasted for five minutes, during which so many men, women and creature were slain that Havoc lost count.

Havoc supposed it was at the center of the raging battle, did the person stop to look at a figure currently burning several Pristi soldiers to ashes with formidable fireballs that Havoc felt to be so powerful that they are undrainable to an amount someone could handle. The person raised the hammer and held it pointed towards the wizard. The wizard's heavy robes didn't even move as bursts of wicked energy left the two gnarled wands in his hands. His face was hidden behind a mask Havoc had seen the Pristi hunters wear. Their eyes locked and the person was the first to react.

The hammer glowed bright and a bolt of solid light lanced out at the wizard. With a swipe of his hand, the wizard batted away the bolt with a loud crackle of shield magic and initiated a counter-attack of his own. Like projectiles shot from a gun, swords, shields and spears shot towards Havoc. The Person ducked and slammed his hammer into the ground. A dense wall of energy sprouted from the hammer head and sent the weapons flying into the air. The wizard didn't wait for him to recuperate and sent bolts and rays of varying colours. They all slammed into the dense field around Havoc, sounding like a incessant war drum in his ears. The barrage was immense and blinding, but the Person stared at the lightshow as if entranced. Havoc hadn't noticed any shift in the barrage when the shield collapsed on its own.

The next second was a blur, but Havoc saw that they were running through a tunnel of blurred space towards the wizard. He also saw in his peripheral vision that the hammer was spinning.

The next moment Havoc's ears and eyes hurt in protest as the battle resumed in all its glory and horror. Spells and explosions were everywhere. Someone had screamed so loudly that Havoc thought that they died right beside him. But he focused more on the wizard.

The hammer struck him in the chest just as a spell left the wizard's lips. Havoc knew that the blow had turned the man's heart and chest cavity into mush. But the spell still issued from the wands. Havoc's vision blurred as his view spinned two times and finally fell onto the blood-soaked ground. Blood filled Havoc's vision and the last thing he saw was Russell in his maroon armor fighting his way towards them.

Suddenly Havoc found himself staring at a cavern ceiling, veins and cracks of mineral winding all over the surface and stalactites. The ground beneath him was solid rock as well. He ran his hands over his body, felt and heard the metal scrape against the malformed surface where Adair's blade had run him through. The inside of his armor was all sticky with congealed blood from the stomach down. There was no pain or sense of losing blood, so Havoc felt confident in standing up. His healing skills are improving quickly.

Despite lifting himself gingerly off the ground, a bout of nausea attack him. His vision swam and his balance shot. He fell flat on the ground and groaned when his chest, arms and knees flared with pain.

"Your powers may be considerable, but your body is still not accustomed to using it."

Havoc pushed himself off the floor high enough to put himself into a sitting position and looked in the direction the voice came from. A towering figure in black and gold armor looked at him with bright golden lights for eyes. A very familiar handle rose over the figure's right shoulder. Havoc realised that this is the person whose last moments he had witnessed. The pieces fell together on their own.

"Victor..."

The figure shook his head. "Alas, only a shadow to his power. For I am Remember, and has served that function since the beginning of time."

Havoc raised an eyebrow. "Remember?"

"I attain the forms of every leader of the Creation's Children when they die, and as you have witnessed, Victor Immortal was the last of the leaders to die in centuries. Once again the Ritus has come to its peak, and the last challenge awaits you, Harry Potter."

Havoc stood up in a whirl of movement. "I am not Harry Potter!" He shouted in anger. "I am not that weakling that had let himself be used and thrown away, do you understand me?"

Victor looked at him with no expression what-so-ever, just like a shadow of a person would that is only programmed to repeat itself every Ritus. "You are not yet ready to face me in melee combat. Thus I will test you only in mind and spirit, but should you neglect your prowess in warfare, I will not spare you next time."

Havoc's anger quickly deflated because of the utterly dejected tone. There was no point in raging or screaming at an apparition. His thoughts shifted to the tests at hand. "Shall we begin?"

Havoc didn't even get to answer when he felt the entire cavern shift. Victor reappeared a dozen metres away across the shifting expanse. The cavern was gone and in its place was a small patch of grass surrounded by nothing. By the strange quality, Havoc figured that he was unconscious again.

"Prepare yourself, Havoc Immortal."

* * *

><p>"This is not good," Krin murmured as the healers levitated the blade out of Adair's chest and placed it onto the table beside the bed before sliding the man into his own slice of the rejuvenation pool. Adair sunk into the pool and floated beside Razz Kota who also has a chest wound, along with a long horizontal gash on his side. Krin was saddened to see the Lizard man to be the first of them to come back, he had expected the young warrior to last a lot longer.<p>

The sword, however, was more important right now. His overlord is without a weapon in the tournament and two more opponents remain. Krin had witnessed Havoc's impressive skill in using spells, but he feared that the two remaining are very dangerous. Havoc will need all the skill and ingenuity to beat them. He took the sword and ventured into the noon blizzard that whipped about the deceptively crumbling bathhouse/infirmary.

As he walked through the blizzard, he thought he heard someone whisper into his ear. He continued to fight the scathing wind, trudging through snow already at his hips with the aid of his rather simple warming spell. Water splashed his metal-capped boots when the snow melted in a small path in front of him. The whisper came again, more forceful then before.

Only after the third one did Krin realize it was coming from his lord's sword. He was aware that Havoc had entrapped a soul inside it, inadvertently giving it the quality of incredible sharpness, but he wasn't aware that Havoc would have been so foolish as to trap a human soul. A human soul on its own isn't dangerous, but if the soul was once a powerful warlock, as Krin suspected this might be Voldemort himself after thinking for a bit, the blade has a will of its own and shouldn't be trusted.

"I've been pleasantly surprised by the strange amount of intelligent beings that surround my prison. What is your name, minion?" a slithering voice came on the wind. Krin continued walking but looked at the wrapped sword in his hand every now and again. "Krin, yours?"

"You may call me Voldemort. I sense apprehension from you..."

Krin's top lip lifted to reveal sharp teeth. If this wasn't the lord's weapon, he would have smelted it into a ingot this very moment. Before he could respond, the snow before him melted away as a wave of heat passed him by. In the wake of rising steam trod Rex, the leather jacket and heavy leather boots only made him look even more intimidating. Krin lowered the offending sword as Rex approached.

"Krin... the sword... is Havoc hurt?" Rex started for the pool house but Krin caught the man's hand. "He is still in the tournament, the latest contestant has returned with the sword lodged inside him. Louise and Yukasa are the last two."

"But I can't feel Havoc, the only thing I can feel is something latched onto him like a parasite, could it be the cause of the disconnection?"

Krin couldn't fathom what his lord was feeling right now, and wished he would never feel something like it. "The hole through which they went closed itself, perhaps its the ancient magics that are causing the disturbance?"

Rex didn't look convinced. After a moment he took the sword and glared at it. "You will tell me everything you now, is that understood?"

Krin grinned when Voldemort responded in an obedient tone.

Ryan woke up to someone's musings. A languid but gnarled voice cooed beside him.

"Interesting, very interesting. Such ingenuity is rather refreshing." the musings stopped suddenly. "Mr. Ryan, so good to see you finally awake, although I wish I could say so for you friend here."

Ryan couldn't see anything. A sack was tied around his head. The tie loosened and the sack came off. The chamber is dark, lit up by a single chandelier. He was lying on a stone slab just like the one beside him where Jacob's body is covered by a sheet. He looked away the moment he noticed his dead eyes.

"What did you do to him?! You monster!" seeing his friend dead at the table like some experiment shattered any calm Ryan had and left only hurt outrage on the surface. He wished he could tear of the bindings and strangle whatever evil creature had done this. As if to goad him further, the owner of the gnarled voice appeared in his vision. The skin was darkish brown like weathered parchment with two huge globes of yellow stitched into it for eyes.

"Rather ingenious from your sorcerers to actually grow magical artifacts inside you as hidden tools. How they managed to hide their magical aura with the rather obvious binding spell that was ingrained in you is also impressive. I could only find them after cutting into the flesh."

Ryan glared at the minion with unadulterated hatred and the minion's smile looked like it was growing ever wider. "I overestimated the strength of you humans, wizards are much more resilient. I understand asking you for any information won't get us anywhere, so I believe the only use I can get from you is do some tests and keep you alive before we find a way to get the information out of you." the horrifying thing was that the minion was saying those horrible things with a smile on its face like this was an everyday chat.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I must get the tools. Don't go anywhere."

The minion disappeared in the adjoining chamber behind a thick door. Ryan closed his eyes in frustration and let his head fall back onto the stone table. They were right, he was fighting monsters these Pristi. Just seeing with what creatures they make company is enough to join the cause. He heard a door open.

"What in Merlin's beard is going on here?"

Ryan opened his eyes and saw a hulking man step into the room. He has never seen such a large man in his life, though he had seen giants and other tall humanoids during training, but never a tall human such as this man. The man rushed over to him and started unbuckling the leather restraints. "Ye alright? They didn't hurt ya or anythin'?"

Ryan sat up and rubbed his sore wrists and neck. "I know a way out, we're gettin' outta here." the giant man said and promptly took Ryan by the hands and pulled him out of the room in only his briefs. Ryan pulled his hand out of the giant's grip. "I need to get something..." and rushed back into the room to the table beside the stone slab where Jacob lay. He took the insignia and ran back outside.

Together, Ryan and the giant ran down the hall made of marble and stone lit up by crystal globes of light. Ryan hoped the other man knew where they were going. Right now, he felt ashamed of not being able to help his men survive, scared of being cut open like some lab animal and getting caught and furious at the Pristi. If he wasn't in just his briefs, he would stay here and take as many with him as he could. He wondered who this giant is, what is he doing here.

Suddenly the giant turned his bulk into another deserted corridor and Ryan almost slammed into him. Only his trained dexterity prevented it from happening. They didn't run far down this particular corridor as the giant stopped at a single door and pushed himself in. Ryan followed and shivered, the temperature in the room is lower for several degrees than the hall. Into his hands was thrust a fur coat.

"Put it on, and these, too." the giant said and offered a pair of old clothes that looked to be from the eighteenth century. A pair of crisp black slacks, slick, heeled shoes and a white button-up shirt.

"Why are you helping me?"

The giant rummaged through a crate. The room looked to be a storeroom of somekind. Crates upon crates were stockpilled, all full of clothes and other random objects. The cold itself seems to be here to preserve the quality of the things stored here. "It's the right thing to do, I am not here because I like it here, either. The name's Rubeus Hagrid."

"Ryan Glass."

Hagrid took something out of the crate he was digging through and showed it to Ryan. It was a brass globe with strange runes scrawled all over its surface. It looked small compared to the giant's large hand. "What's that supposed to be?"

Hagrid looked at him in mild confusion. "Er...I think it's a portkey. I know some of these runes. See this line? It says portkey." his giant finger ran down a lenghty section of rune across the globe's surface.

"So how do we use it?"

At that Hagrid frowned. He didn't know. Ryan took the globe and turned it over in his hands. An idea came to him.

"Do you have a dagger or something sharp? I've got an idea."

"Maybe we shouldn't try anything that will break it..."

Ryan shook his head."Nothing like that. Do you have anything?"

Hagrid gave him a huntsman's knife. Ryan took it and pulled up his sleeve on his left arm. He pressed the smooth blade of the knife on his forearm and dragged it down to the wrist from the elbow. He saw the giant cringe and barely stop himself from taking the knife back, but it was obvious he thought cutting himself was a bad idea. Ryan ignored him and put the knife down. He was finding this rather painful process immensely satisfying when he thought he was using the very tools that minion had found to escape under his nose.

He dug his fingers into the wound and felt for the Cracker housed amidst the muscle. It burned and hurt like hell, but now was not the time to be squeamish about being in pain. His training wouldn't allow it, too. Through the muscle he finally found the bulge he had really rarely had to use. He grabbed hold of it and pulled. A stubby cylinder covered in blood and lymph came out in between his fingers. It was a proper small cylinder, but it looked like it's made out of bone and sinew.

The giant cringed and quickly cast a healing spell to close the wound on Ryan's forearm. Ryan pressed the cylinder to the brass ball and felt it work its magic. The Cracker was essentially an artifact that forces another artifact to do what it's supposed to do without the need for a specific user or incantation. Thus far it worked every time, though Ryan never used it against old Pristi magic.

A moment later the brass ball opened to reveal a small cluster of handles that were large enough only for holding onto with his fingers. Ryan and Hagrid looked at each other and smiled like idiots. "Let's get out of here."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Ryan said.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24 is done. A bit shorter than the other ones, only 7k, but it is the final part of this story. The Epilogue remains to be written and Domination Anew will be finished. Thank you all for reading and enjoying my work!<strong>


	26. Epilogue

Epilogue

Primordial consciousness returned to the husk of crystal enshrined in the deepest reaches of the world. The throne of stone shattered as the husk detached itself from its resting place of several millenia. A new adversary has appeared, a new counterpart against which he must fight to put a stop to the entropy and decay. Dust and coarse sand slid off the once-dormant crystal fashioned with god-like acuity to reveal rectangular slabs conjoined to form a humanoid shape.

Where is the Overseer, for he is not here? Has he not been born into this age? Or perhaps he has died. A minor setback for a being such as it. It was made to be independent, thinking and completely loyal to its purpose. Though it did wonder to what heights has creation come to during its long sleep.

A slab moved before it into the wall and revealed a way out of the dark chamber. It rose off the ground, sending soft ripples of air around it and began its journey to the outside world. A world that will soon stop existing.

* * *

><p><strong>The End.<strong>

** Sequel: World Anew will start in a month or so. Most likely in the summer.  
><strong>

**Thank you all for reading and coming along with me on this ride. It means a lot to me as rarely people actually finish what they started in the literary world. I have a lot in store for World Anew, but it is still in the works so I won't be uploading anything else for a while. Probably will start writing in the summer.**

**Love you all, with regards Malachite Rain**


	27. ANNOUNCEMENT!

**!ANNOUNCEMENT!**

**Sequel to Domination Anew, World Anew, has just now been uploaded!**

**Thank you for supporting my work and I hope I will see all of you in World Anew!**


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