2

It was early April, 1983, when a well-dressed gentlemen walked into the Chancery Lane Safe Deposit Company, also known as the London Silver Vaults, located less than twelve hundred meters from the center of Diagon Alley (or rather, the center of the block where Diagon Alley's entrance was on Charing Cross, since the location of the Alley itself was rather nebulous). As there was an appointment, the gentleman was expected.

"We had a bit of a book going for if someone was actually going to show up for this appointment or not," said the thirty-something man in a business suit as he met the gentleman with the appointment.

"I get that a lot," said the man. "I'm not sure what my parents were thinking when they named me, but I guess it worked out okay."

"So, you really are Doctor John Watson?" asked the astonished business man.

"It's a Doctorate of History rather than of medicine, but yes," the gentleman, Doctor Watson, said. He appeared to be in his mid twenties, with a black goatee and mustache, and long black hair pulled into a tail at the top of his neck. His suit was well tailored, though he wore it without a tie, mixing the image of the New Wave twenty-something with a well-heeled gentleman.

"So, what can we do for you today, Doctor Watson?"

"I'd like to secure a safe deposit box," Watson responded. "I've something that I need to keep safe, and when I read that not even the bombs of World War Two could break the vaults here, I knew that was the right place to put it."

"Is it anything illicit?" he was asked, not getting a good feeling from the "Good Doctor".

"No, nothing like that, it's just that it's very special to me, and while I've been keeping it in my flat, I'm just about to put myself into the spotlight, so to speak, and I'd rather it be in a safer locale. It's just a box of keepsakes, nothing much, but it's practically a piece of my soul."

"Of course, of course," replied the man. He then inquired as to the size of the item to be stored.

Doctor McCoy reached into the inside of his coat, and extracted an elegantly carved gilded box, about ten centimeters square and five centimeters tall, "It's just a small little thing, but it means the world to me."

"Of course, Doctor Watson," said the man. "That looks like it'll fit in out Class A box, our most affordable."

"Thank you," said the Doctor. "I'd like to secure it for a decade or so."

"So long?" asked the Chancery Lane representative, surprised.

"I'd rather not worry about it, and I'm likely to be moving around for the next year or five, so I'd rather not risk missing the lease invoice."

"You realize we'll have to pro-rate the cost."

"Naturally," replied the Doctor.

It took another two hours, and a bit of hand waving by the Doctor to convince the salesman that his credentials were sufficient, but eventually the golden box was safely secured within the vaults beneath Chancery Lane, the security of which rivaled that of their magical counterpart less than a mile away run by the goblins. That most of the Doctor's enemies would know him by a different name, as well as a different face, and he'd be obliviating the salesman once he was done anyway, meant that there was less risk involved here.

Plus, Doctor Watson, or rather the lich nobodez, knew just how secure Gringotts could be. Two break-ins in less than seven years, more than the none in nearly a hundred years with the mundane option.

After covering his tracks, including the timed notice-me-not and muggle-repelling charm on his phylactery, and fumating back to Alex Smith's flat on Knockturn Alley, nobodez dropped their illusion. "Ah, it feels good to be myself again," the lich said to themself. They then strode to their study, the former bedroom, and looked between the four tables they were currently working at.

The first held a disassembled Heckler & Kock MP5 submachine gun, sourced from a now-dead arms fence in Brixton. They had perfected the duplication charm in the magazine, exploiting one of the laws of magic, and allowing for the weapon to never run out of ammunition. A cooling charm along the barrel, along with a slew of repair charms throughout the weapon, kept it functioning even during prolonged automatic fire. They'd even adapted some of the basic defense jinxes to give it a "stun" setting. The only problem now was to place the runes to power the charms indefinitely and reassemble it. Once that was done, they'd send it to the Demesne for the undead there to replicate, and then arm their undead minions with it. While it made the warriors equal in deadliness to the mages, the mages still had the utility of magic, though when a dozen warriors could be summoned for the same effort as a single mage, sometimes quantity had a quality all its own.

The second held the defensive counterpart to the submachine gun, and based on ideas from cross-time (since really, uptime would imply that where they came from could have possibly come from where they had arrived, which just wasn't the case), was actually not the different in appearance to the original scale mail that the warriors wore. The scales were now made from kevlar-reinforced ceramic plates, but otherwise, the basic appearance wasn't that different. Like the firearm, though, the tough part was integrating magic into it to enhance it beyond the technological. An unbreakable charm, linked with a cushioning charm, would make the armor properly bullet-proof, but that would only work against mundane enemies. nobodez was attempting to link a limited area version of one of the more effective shield charms, which protected against almost any Dark Magic, save the unforgivables, into a self-charging rune set, but without having actually taken Ancient Runes, and since all of the unsavory characters that they'd soul drained hadn't gotten much past the OWLs, let alone NEWT-level Ancient Runes, it was proving most difficult, despite having practically every textbook on the subject available. The more generic shield charms were working, and a version with that already integrated had been sent to the Demesne for replication, but since their warriors were already immune to the Unforgivables, making them immune to everything else would be quite useful (especially if they decided to use living minions in the future). They'd only be equipping ghoulish warriors with the armor, since they had other plans for undead warriors, mainly integrating the defensive magic into the bones themselves, rather than into armor, but that would be for after the next phase of their Cunning Plan.

The third held a leather backpack, which was in the process of being turned into a handy haversack. The expansion charms were easy, it was the retrieval charms linked with the intent of the wearer that was proving difficult. They were this close to just calling it good enough by having it being accessible by anyone, since the only way they could figure out to limit it was using moke skin, and that limited access to the person who put it in the bag in the first place. Secure, but not easily applied to a legion of minions.

The fourth and final held a pile of books, almost exclusively mundane or dark, and to a book exceedingly rare, that they were in the process of putting into their spell book. With nearly over a million tomes already scanned, an index, and a search function, were actually the current endeavor. Serendipity was nice (finding what you weren't looking for because finding what you were looking for was so darn difficult), but sometimes they just wanted to check the differences between the third and tenth editions of "Hogwarts: A History" (as Hermione would have noted, sometimes the truth is omitted to protect the guilty). They were also hoping to produce some sort of hyperlink facsimile for the textbooks, allowing something akin to Wikipedia, but of a magical nature, but again, it was a slow process exacerbated by a lack of education.

Once the first, second, and third projects were complete, though, nobodez would enact the next phase of their Cunning Plan.

Well, it was less a Cunning Plan, and more of Plan Q, and it involved a full frontal assault on Azkaban. The first half dozen plans were to clue the major players known to the lich onto the nature of Sirius Black's incarceration, but not a single one of them lasted beyond the bureaucracy of the Ministry of Magic. The next half dozen had involved solo or small unit assaults, which had all ended in defeat.

Plan M had been successful, but that just gave nobodez the Resurrection Stone, which was currently waiting for the lich's soul drain to be of sufficient power to drain magical power as well as knowledge. Waste not, want not after all.

Plans N, O, and P involved attempts at getting the Locket, Diadem, and Diary horcruxes, but had all failed. The Grimmauld Place townhouse had been impossible to get into without being a Black or having the permission of a Black to enter. Hogwarts was a dud, since the wards kept out those not invited onto the grounds, let alone the seventh floor corridor. And Malfoy Manor had cost them a dozen mages and twice as many warriors and they'd only gotten halfway up the walk from the gate.

Plan Q, though, based on the lessons learned from Plans G, H, I, J, K, and L, looked to be a winner, as they'd learned that Dementors did nothing to undead, but a dozen Aurors and Hit Wizards could. They also learned that Dementors were a type of undead, and hopefully once Azkaban was taken, they'd be able to control one enough to entrap it, and thus, learn how to create new ones. Dementor minons were a Good Thing when the fear aura only affected the living.

Padfoot sat, head in paws, as he listened to the seventh assault on Azkaban in as many months. The first had come a month after the one-year anniversary of the death of Lord Voldemort, or rather, the one-year anniversary of his imprisonment for allowing his best friend and his wife to be betrayed by the Rat. He felt that he deserved it here, that this was his penance for allowing the Rat to betray Prongs and Lily.

The first assault had lasted barely a minute, and seemed to only involve the pair of guards that watched the pier. The second assault, a week later, had involved more of the guards, and had sounded like it involved firearms, though Padfoot was only tangentially familiar with the muggle weapons, so it may just have been fireworks.

The third and fourth attacks were a week later, only a day apart, and had been the first to involve the guards stationed inside the prison itself, though again, had failed. What was most interesting to Padfoot, in addition to the use of firearms, which the pureblood bigots of the Death Eaters either knew little about or refused to use, was that there were no fatalities, the attackers having used only stunning or disabling attacks, rather than the standard Death Eater Killing Curse.

The fifth and sixth attacks had both breeched the prison itself, though only barely, and that only because the DMLE had reinforced the guards. Instead of the dozen guards stationed at Azkaban at any one time, mainly hit wizards with an auror supervisor, instead two dozen hit wizards and a dozen aurors had been stationed at Azkaban.

What Padfoot had also noticed was that the Dementors hadn't really taken notice of any of the battles, as if whomever, or whatever, was attacking had no emotions for them to feed off of.

This seventh battle seemed to involve almost an order of magnitude more attackers than the last assault, and from what Padfoot had overheard for the guards, that one had involved a half dozen wizards and four times as many muggles, or rather, attackers using muggle weapons rather than magic.

Suddenly Padfoot perked up, as he heard the battle enter the hall outside his cell. Knowing that as the Grim he'd be unable to see through the small window on his door, he shifted into Sirius and stood up to look.

Four aurors were making a fighting retreat down the hall, two covering with bunker shields and two more attacking with everything short of the unforgivables. Sirius had heard, as Padfoot, that whatever was attacking were somehow immune to the unforgivables. As he looked out the small, barred window of his cell door, he realized that the armored men assaulting the prison were pretty much immune to whatever spells the aurors threw at them as well. Bludgeoning hexes were absorbed, bone breakers deflected, and cutting curses severed nothing. Behind the dozen armored men, each firing a gun that appeared to be firing stunners rather than bullets, were a pair of robed wizards, though they wore red robes rather than the typical Death Eater black. And just behind the red robed wizards, strolling down the hall without a care in the world, was a man with wild brown hair in an oddly coloured muggle business suit, blue with rust red pinstripes.

At each cell door the man would stop, look inside, and either send a wandless stunner inside, or ignore it entirely. From what Sirius remembered of the prisoners on this hall, only the cells with death eaters in them were being stunned, the more generic criminals: arsonists, murderers, kidnappers, but not Death Eaters, were being ignored.

The gunmen and the robed wizards passed his door and Sirius saw that, instead of men, they were more like inferi, though with a bit more meat on their bones, so to speak. Then, the man in the muggle suit came up to the door, looked in, and smiled.

"Sirius Black?" the man asked, a hint of an Estuary accent fighting with a lingering neutral American one.

"Who's asking?" countered Sirius.

"You can call me the Emperor," replied the man with a bit of a flourish.

"The Emperor? Seems rather grandiose. I mean, even Voldemort only claimed to be a Lord," joked Sirius.

The man smiled, and Sirius seemed a bit shaken by the smile, "Well, it seems I've got slightly more grandiose ideas that the late, non-lamented, Dark Lord. I was wondering, though, how would you like to be released?"

"You're willing to free me?" asked Sirius, surprised.

"That's why I came here. Well … you and Bella," said the Emperor, as his ghoulish forces continued to advance down the hall, with the robed wizards just sending a stunner into each cell, rather than checking for whatever the so-called Emperor had been checking for.

"Bella? What do you want with her? You're not going to free her, are you?" asked Sirius.

"I will be taking her with me when I leave, but it's mainly because she has something I need in her vault. Once I've retrieved it, I plan on draining her soul … thus killing her," admitted the man, not an ounce of malice while describing the cold-blooded murder of Sirius' cousin.

"I thought a Dementor's Kiss didn't kill, only took the soul?"

"Well … it's not exactly a Dementor's Kiss, though it is quite similar. Mainly I need to get an item Riddle left with her, and then she'll have served her purpose and she'll be killed for her crimes," explained the Emperor.

"You're not exactly painting a bright picture of my future if I go with you," said Sirius, though he wasn't sure who this 'Riddle' was.

"Oh, that's just Bella," said the man with a wave of his hand. "I'm thinking we clean you up, talk with your grandfather, or is it your great-grandfather, I'm not sure who the head of the Blacks is right now, and then see about getting you your trial. Then, we re-unite you with your godson, and I continue with my mission."

"Wait, you're going to get me my trail, re-unite me with Harry, and then leave me be?" asked Sirius, confused. "Why?"

"Well, I tried to do it legally, get you your trial and all, but the Ministry wasn't being cooperative. Six attempts, all failures, so that's when I said, 'Screw it', and decided to bust you out," explained the Emperor.

"So you're the one behind the assaults these last few months," acknowledged Sirius. "And all for me?"

"Well, you, Bella for the item in her vault that Riddle left with her, and then I've got to drain the souls from all the Death Munchers so Riddle can't break them out if and when he returns," explained the Emperor. Just then the sound of gunfire abated, and the Emperor smiled. "Ah, it seems they've finally subdued the last of the aurors. Good, hopefully the rest of this will go smoother."

"You keep mentioning Riddle, who's that?" asked Sirius.

"You know him as Voldemort, but his real name is Tom Riddle. Much like myself, he chose a new name when he began his ascent to power. Unlike me, though, he just used an anagram to find his name, while I took a more … aspirational appellation. Though, my current Empire consists of an area roughly the size of Jupiter, so it's not that much of a stretch," explained the Emperor. He then looked at Sirius, "So, what do you say? Stay in here, waiting until you get inspired to break out to hunt down Wormtail, or come with me, get your trial, and raise your godson?"

Sirius stepped away from his cell door, "Well, when you put it like that …"

"Bella, I'll force the issue if you so desire," said the Emperor, sitting comfortably on his chair. "All I need and want is that cup that Riddle left you."

"I'll never betray my Lord," shouted Bellatrix, struggling against the duct tape bonds that kept her seated.

"Your Lord," and the Emperor said the latter word sarcastically, "is defeated, and I've already secured four of his six horcruxes."

Sirius had been able to sneak into Hogwarts to retrieve the Diadem and then to Grimmauld for the Locket in the weeks since the Emperor had killed every Death Eater in Azkaban save for Bellatrix. The fourth was, of course, Harry himself, leaving only the Diary and the Cup outstanding.

"The Dark Lord will return, and when he does, he'll defeat you and all you stand for!" shouted Bellatrix.

The Emperor sighed, or at least, the illusion of the Emperor the lich wore sighed. They'd yet to get far enough with the illusions to build a real body around their bones, though at least now they knew it was possible. With a wave of their hand the two undead bodyguards riddled Bella's body with stunner rounds from their MP5s.

Dropping the illusion of the Emperor, nobodez rose from the chair and strode across the distance separating Bellatrix. They reached down and lifted the stunned Death Eater's chin to look upon her admittedly beautiful face, "I wanted to do this the easy way. Why did you have to make this so difficult."

"She's always been difficult," said Sirius, surprising the lich with his presence.

"What did Arcturus have to say?" asked the lich, turning towards their agent. They'd revealed their true nature once Sirius had collected the two horcruxes.

"He's willing to give you the cup, as long as your promise that no other members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black are to be killed after Bellatrix," replied Sirius.

"Unless Narcissa has taken the Dark mark, then I believe I have no quarrel with the House of Black. I'd like to add a caveat that I'll reserve the right to kill any that cross me or support my opponents, but otherwise, yes, that's an acceptable compromise," replied Nobodez.

"You really plan on taking over the world?" asked Sirius.

"That's been my plan since shortly after I arrived here, yes," replied the lich, slowly walking from Bellatrix to Sirius. "First I needed to secure my base of operations, and with Riddle nearly destroyed once and for all, that gives me the time to build up my power base here in Britain."

"So how soon before you're Emperor of Earth?" asked Sirius.

"Two, three centuries," replied the lich. Sirius looked surprised. "Don't be so surprised. Unlike Riddle I truly am immortal, or as close as I can manage. Why rush?"

"Three hundred years," said Sirius with a sigh. "I'm not sure even Harry's kids will live long enough to see that."

"I'm currently hoping for two hundred, but yes, three hundred is a possibility," explained the lich. "I need to have the world unified before I can step in as Emperor. To do that, I need there to be a great many more magicals; witches and wizards. To do that, I need to persuade the current generation to either have loads more children, Weasley levels or more, or to donate generously to mundane sperm and egg banks."

"What if you can't?" asked Sirius.

"Well, worst case scenario I move down to Africa and take over a country there. I kill all the male mundanes and have a select group of allied wizards impregnate all the women. Then, a generation later, I'll have an entire country full of witches and wizards that have one foot in the mundane world and one foot in the magical. Then, it's simply a matter of shattering the Statute of Secrecy, and then establishing an Empire."

"Yeah, seams simple when you put it like that," said Sirius sarcastically.

"Padfoot, I know that my plan will have to adapt to changing situations. I'd rather do this with the minimum of bloodshed, but if I have to, I'll kill all the non-magical men in the world, and most of the wizards, and then force the world to give birth to a generation of witches and wizards, killing all the squibs," said the lich plainly. "I'm an undead monster, killing half the world my be the last thing I want to do …"

"But it's still on the list," finished Sirius with a shrug. "I owe you for getting my out of Azkaban and getting me my trial."

"Well, the latter was actually your grandfather, I just allowed you to talk to him so that he could use his political powers to force the issue," said the lich.

"You're also allowing me to get to know my godson," said Sirius.

"It was simply a matter of purchasing a controlling interest in a small company and convincing one of the vice presidents that it was in his best interest to let you take care of his unwanted nephew," countered the lich.

"I still don't understand why he has to stay with them, though," said Sirius.

"Until you're free and we can more openly move against the more entrenched interests of the magical world, it's best if Albus doesn't know what we're doing," explained the lich. "He doesn't exactly agree with my 'one chance' policy."

"I'm not sure if I entirely agree with it, but I owe you, and until you give me a reason not to, I'm with you," said Sirius.

"Thank you Padfoot," said the lich. They didn't want to admit it, especially not to Sirius, but the loyalty potions had been a part of the man's potion regimen over the last few weeks, supplementing the nutritional and mental health potions, were the true source of his loyalty to the lich. They'd have done it to Bellatrix, but they had no use for a crazy bitch, especially since as soon as she was dead they'd know everything she knew anyway.

"Inform your grandfather that the Lestrange vault should be transfered to the House of Black as soon as the goblins are notified of Bellatrix's demise," said the lich, waking from Sirius back to Bellatrix.

"And how soon will that be?" asked Sirius.

The lich's hand somehow began to glow black, "As soon as I make the delivery." With a touch the lich devoured Bellatrix's soul, flooding their mind with her entire memories, though after killing dozens of Death Eaters at Azkaban and the half dozen muggers over the last year and a half, it no longer confused them as it once did. The lich would have smiled, though, when they realized that not only were all of Bellatrix's memories now theirs, but so too was a fraction of her magical power, the first such boon they'd received.

Now it was time to drain a few horcruxes.

The experience of draining the soul from the horcruxes was unique, at least compared to draining the soul from a human being. It was fragmented, so instead of the normal flow of memories from day to day, linked by common elements but otherwise continuous, the memories were in pieces, linked only by the common elements.

The Gaunt Ring, containing the Resurrection Stone, was the oldest of the five horcruxes that nobodez had, and the second oldest overall (the eldest was, of course, the Diary, which was still with Lucius Malfoy, though nobodez had finally figured out how they'd get it). Created late in 1944, a year after the Diary, it contained fragments of Riddle's memory from both Hogwarts and the Orphanage. As expected, it also contained literally a quarter of Riddle's magical power, since it contained a quarter of Riddle's soul. While nobodez wasn't able to capture all of that quarter of power, it was nearly as much as they'd received from Bellatrix, giving the lich a desire to see how large a piece the Diary, which contained half of Riddle's soul, and therefore half of his magical power, would provide.

Ravenclaw's Diadem was the third of Riddle's horcruxes made, after the Diary and Ring, and thus contained an eighth of Riddle's soul. Made the summer after Riddle finished his NEWTs, 1945, in Albania. Riddle had killed an Albanian Roma witch, a fortune teller who had dared to foretell that Riddle would be defeated despite his protections, and in fact, because of them. It contained the memory of discovering the location of the Diadem from the Grey Lady, Helena Ravenclaw, and then the search for the location in Albania, hundreds of years after it was lost, stretching Riddle's knowledge of the mundane world. The steady decline in Riddle's mind was seen in the memories, his quick temper, his paranoia, and his increasing need to have multiple horcruxes, splitting his soul and magic into smaller and smaller pieces. Even then, with two horcruxes made, and the plan to make another, he was making plans to gain power by being something that Grindlewald, newly defeated by Dumbledore, would despise, gaining power only for pure bloods, by using them, the rich and powerful in the magical world, to oppress the half-bloods and muggleborn, those without power or prestige in the magical world. Unlike Grindlewald, who had used the mundane, and specifically the Nazi regime, to gain power. Riddle, with his hatred of anything "muggle", wanted nothing to do with Gindlewald's desire to rule over the mundane world. nobodez realized that, from an outside observed, they were just as dark and evil, in goals, as both Riddle and Gindlewald, wanting to rule the world rather than just England or Europe, though rather than killing all the "blood traitors", "mudbloods", and "muggles" to create their empire, like Riddle would, or conquering the mundanes alongside the Third Reich, like Grindlewald would, nobodez planned to unite the world, forcibly if need be, and usher all six billion, mundanes and magical alike, into the future. Was it worth the hassle? Did nobodez have the right to kill the Death Eaters, even though, given the chance, and the knowledge that nobodez was once a mundane, with no magical blood, they would kill the lich in turn?

Hufflepuff's Cup, retrieved by Arcturus Black from the Lestrange Vault after the last Lestrange was confirmed dead, and then given to nobodez via Sirius, was the next oldest, created with the murder of Hepzibah Smith in 1946. In addition to three more years of memory fragments, it produced the first proof of the lich's theory about horcruxes. By reviewing the memories, including those of creating both the Diary and the Ring, nobodez could see how splitting his soul, and his magic, made Riddle more irrational and paranoid. Instead of the cool and calculating young boy that had gained power in Slytherin despite being a half blood, there was the beginning of the fiction of Lord Voldemort, hypocritical Blood Purist. nobodez could see the slide into madness that the creation of the horcruxes caused in Riddle, how it made more and more sense for him to split his soul, and his magic, into pieces, to prevent himself from dying. By the time he'd created the Cup horcrux he'd already lost three quarters of his soul and magic, and had lost all his appreciation for wine, women, or song. All he lusted for was power. Despite the fragment of Riddle's magic that the lich absorbed being, technically, half a half as large as that from the Diadem, the increase in magical power absorbing the soul and magic caused was more than half as much, meaning either Riddle had gotten stronger in the three years between creating the Diadem and the Cup horcuxes, or the lich's ability to absorb magic along with the soul was steadily getting better.

The fourth, and final, horcrux that nobodez drained was Slytherin's Locket, which had been made mere days after the Cup, and instead of being created with the death of someone meaningful: Myrtle, the first, and only, woman Riddle ever loved, accidentally killed by the basilisk; Tom Riddle Senior, the mundane father that never loved his first son; or even Hepzibah Smith, pureblood descendent of Helga Hufflepuff; the Locket had been created with the convenient death of a muggle tramp, literally the first person that Riddle had seen that wouldn't have been immediately missed. While the memories still provided glimpses into Riddle's thoughts and history, the fragment of soul, only a thirty-second, provided half as much magic as that from the Cup, showing that Riddle's power grew as he got older, and the lich was pulling the same fraction of magic from whatever soul, or fraction thereof, they drained.

With four horcruxes destroyed, leaving only the Diary and Harry, as well as Riddle's free-roaming soul itself, the lich had a choice to make.

The choice was not whether to go after the Diary, that would be easy, especially as nobodez planned to attend Sirius' trial, and thus be close to Lucius Malfoy, whom the lich had insisted be called as a witness. Once Lucius, under the influence of Veritiserum, confirmed that Sirius had never been at any meeting Lucius had attended, and unlike him didn't even have a Dark Mark, he would be drained of his soul for his crimes, leaving Narcissa a widow. Then, again through Sirius and Arcturus, nobodez would retrieve the horcrux, leaving Narcissa alone if she wasn't marked, or killing her if she did. If Narcissa was marked, like her husband, nobodez would suggest that Draco be raised by either Andromeda or Sirius, giving him an opportunity to become a descent human being. nobodez wasn't sure if they wanted Narcissa to be a marked Death Eater or not.

No, the real choice was how to deal with the horcrux in Harry Potter. nobodez wasn't sure if they'd be able to drain just the horcrux, or if they'd have to wait until Riddle was partially resurrected with Harry's blood, making him a horcrux for Harry, then make sure Harry is the master of the Hallows, before having Riddle kill Harry to destroy the horcrux within, and then allowing nobodez, or possibly Harry to fulfill the prophesy (even though nobodez believed that it was already fulfilled on Halloween), to kill Voldemort, ending the Dark Lord forever.

nobodez also, knowing that Gindlewald was still in the Nuremgard, made a mental note to themself to eliminate the Durmstrang-educated Hungarian wizard, draining his soul, and syphoning off a portion of his magic. nobodez's overall plan was the gain enough magic by soul draining to double their initial amount, so that once they finally unlocked the ability to create a flesh-and-blood disguise, the lessoning of magical power would just mean they were just as powerful as they were to begin with.