Chapter 41

July 27th, 2017. Malfoy Manor.

Voldemort smiled genially as he accepted the pale yew wand, his pale yew wand.

"Thank you, Barty. I had missed this." He said.

Bartemius Crouch Sr. said nothing, merely stared blankly. Not unexpected, considering he was being held under the Imperius. The man might have been disgraced when it came out that he had imprisoned Sirius Black without a trial, but he was still a senior Ministry official and had access to all sorts of places, such as wand storage for example. He had retrieved the wands of all his soon-to-be-released followers as well.

"May I have him now, my lord?" Barty Crouch Jr. asked eagerly, his eyes shining with malice.

"Of course, Barty." Voldemort said indulgently. The younger Crouch had gone to prison rather than forsake him, showing his true mettle. He was greatly favored now and allowing him vengeance against his father was a small thing to do for him.

Voldemort glided slowly through the house as the screaming started. Soon, he would have more men like Barty. Men of conviction who had gone to prison rather than forsake him. And of course Bellatrix, couldn't forget dear Bella.

For now, he would have to rely on what he had, plus the mercenaries that Goran had been able to get in touch with.

July 31st, 2017. Spellhaven.

Aurélie knocked firmly on the door of the lovely château that her granddaughter now lived in.

Said granddaughter was quick to open the door. They were expected.

"Come in, come in." Fleur invited, smiling eagerly.

Aurélie returned the smile and waddled in. However happy she was to be pregnant again, the extra mass was definitely inconvenient.

Behind her, three veela in their twenties followed, one of them carrying a stoppered potion.

Fleur's eyes gleamed with interest upon seeing it. "Is that…?"

"Oh yes, yes it is." Aurélie said smugly.

Rosalind's Fluidic Enhancer had been invented at the turn of the last century ago by a particularly lusty veela. Rosalind had a flair for potion brewing and had been unsatisfied by the volume of sexual discharge granted by nature. The potion temporarily gave both men and women a significant boost in that area. That this also allowed men to climax more times in one sitting was a happy bonus, although it did slightly increase the refractory period for both genders as well.

One of the Rosalind's lovers had unfortunately died of dehydration while helping her 'test' her creation, leading to the potion being labeled dangerous and subsequently outlawed. Veela still used it sometimes, but only when there was no chance of word reaching law enforcement, and not often even then. Overuse of the potion put some strain on the body, especially on the testicles, and the whole point of the potion was to make things more fun, not to cause harm. She was sure that Harry wouldn't mind it.

Aurélie's had been the loudest voice in supporting the idea of establishing a veela commune on Spellhaven, having immediately seen the opportunity for what it was. Harry was of course the undisputed master of the island and would have to be obeyed as such, but she had known that he would also be far less restrictive than even the most tolerant Ministry of Magic.

Given her personal knowledge of Harry, Fleur's relationship with him and the implications of her pregnancy, it had not been difficult to find veela willing to take the plunge. There were currently just under thirty of them on Spellhaven, with herself as the de facto leader due both to her age and the link to Harry that impregnation by him and being Fleur's grandmother created.

Fleur herself was the one whose voice actually held the most weight, being part of what was essentially the ruling family of the island and all, but she was too young and not really a member of the commune, which was why leadership had defaulted to Aurélie.

That Fleur was actually one of the creators of the island was not widely known. In fact, it wasn't even widely known that the island had been created through magic. Aurélie knew it because of her close relationship with her granddaughter, but everyone else was given a story about the Black family claiming and hiding the island centuries ago. She was most impressed with what Fleur and her lovers had accomplished and would keep it secret. The ICW would not necessarily kick up a fuss over it, but there was no sense in taking chances and this island presented far too great an opportunity for veela to risk having it ruined because a few politicians felt like causing trouble.

Spellhaven was still in its infancy and all of its little customs and unspoken rules remained unformed, something that Aurélie intended to take advantage of. Harry was a powerful wizard and could easily live for another two hundred years, more if he found a way to extend his lifespan and decided to use it. He also had three powerful lovers and their children would likely inherit mastery of the island after them.

Aurélie hoped to establish a tradition of sorts, one that everyone would benefit from. The veela living on Spellhaven would get a close tie to the ruling family of their home, as well as access to the bedrooms of very powerful wizards and witches and Harry's family would have no shortage of beautiful women willing to frequent their beds. Humans might consider this arrangement to be something akin to prostitution or a harem, but humans had some very strange notions about sex.

Fleur was fully on board with the plan and today, under the cover of Hary's birthday, they would make the first step . It would be easy to explain that they just wanted to show their appreciation for inviting them to settle on his island. It was unlikely that he, Luna or Nymphadora would object too much, if at all.

They'd all taken the contraceptive potion since neither she nor Fleur believed that Harry was ready to start breeding them, but they had high hopes that a few years of exposure to veela that didn't have to pretend they were human for the sake of fitting in would cure him of his reluctance. Maybe they'd even be able to get Nymphadora in on it, she was certainly powerful enough that the chances of impregnation were good.

"Come on, Harry. It wasn't that bad." Dora said with a grin that bespoke of vast amusement.

"Yes it was." Harry insisted with a scowl. "Today was a total waste of time. I couldn't go two minutes without being accosted by some NPC wanting to shake my hand and wish me a happy birthday."

Dora rolled her eyes at Harry's habit of referring to people as non-player characters. "They're just trying to be polite and get on your good side."

"Well they failed." Harry said petulantly, for once acting younger than his age. "I can't believe that one idiot actually suggested that we declare my birthday a holiday. How the fuck does he think I can do that without coming off like… well, like Fudge actually. He's just stupid enough to think that self-aggrandisement is attractive."

"That was pretty bad." Dora admitted. "But the rest is just normal human social interaction, oh King of Scowls."

"Shush, you." Harry determinedly kept a scowl on his face despite his amusement at the title he'd just been given. "I've had to spend the whole day pretending that I actually appreciated people bothering me with this 'normal human interaction' bullshit. I reserve the right to scowl."

"Carry on then." Dora rolled her eyes again.

They made it home soon after, both wondering if Fleur and Luna were back yet. Their schedules tended to be a bit chaotic despite Narcissa and Penny's best efforts to impose some order on it, so they generally didn't know when they'd be done with the day until they went to bed.

As it turned out, Fleur and Luna were home, but they weren't alone.

"Hi, Harry, Nymphadora!" Luna chirped, disengaged from whatever conversation she'd been having with one of the three unknown veela present and ran over to give them a hug and a kiss in greeting.

"Luna." Harry said, faintly bewildered. "What's going on?"

"Aurélie, Fleur and I decided to throw you a little birthday party." Luna answered.

"I see." Harry said, no less confused about the presence of the three extra veela.

Aurélie came over to wish him a happy birthday with a quick kiss on the cheek, then she turned to the unknowns.

"And these three are my gift to you." She said.

"Excuse me?" Both Harry and Dora said incredulously.

Aurélie paid their reaction no mind and simply jumped into the introductions.

"These are Ingrid, Nadine and Ivette." She said, out each one in turn, which was apparently some kind of signal for them to give him a hug and kiss in greeting as well. "They are recent arrivals that used to work at Magical France's largest massage parlor and were hoping to set up one of their own on Spellhaven."

Harry's estimation of Magical France immediately rose by several points.

"We would be happy to demonstrate our skills." Ingrid said invitingly, a bare hint of a Swedish accent in her English.

"Well, you were pretty cranky just a few minutes ago, so a massage certainly couldn't hurt." Dora said, clearly amused.

"You just want a massage yourself." Harry accused.

"That too." Dora agreed.

Nymphadora Tonks was no idiot. She knew a plot when she saw one. It helped that she still vividly remembered what Fleur had contrived to make happen during Harry's sixteenth birthday.

That was why she dropped behind during the walk to the master bedroom and leaned over to whisper into Fleur's ear.

"What are you up to?" She asked.

"Just a bit of extra fun for Harry's birthday." Fleur replied innocently.

"This better not be some scheme to get those three pregnant." Dora warned.

"Nothing of the sort." Fleur insisted. "They've all taken their potion."

Dora was still convinced that Fleur was up to something, but she at least seemed sincere about that. Eh, it was probably nothing to worry about. Fleur's last scheme had turned out pretty well at any rate.

Harry exhaled a rumbling sigh of pleasure as Ingrid skillfully massaged his oiled back. Now this was the kind of birthday celebration he could get used to.

On either side of him, Dora and Luna were in similar states of indolence. All three of them were naked and lying on their stomachs while an equally naked veela straddled their thighs and worked on their back. The three veela had put mats on the floor rather than set up raised boards, probably for the express reason of being able to use this position.

None of them minded the nudity, being well aware that this was going to end in sex. It always ended in sex with veela involved.

Ingrid leaned down so that her breasts rested on his back and spoke huskily into his ear. "Is it good for you?"

"Very." Harry replied contently. "France will be a darker place without the three of you."

"Flatterer." She said, clearly pleased with his compliment and the implied approval of their plans. Then her tone switched to mild frustration. "It wasn't as if we were able to really use our skills to the fullest anyway."

"Oh?"

"There were just so many rules ." Ingrid huffed. "No nudity, no body-to-body contact, absolutely no sex… I enjoy my work, but it was terribly frustrating at times."

Harry could see the reasons for these restrictions. Things could get messy if the employees of a business that wasn't a brothel were allowed to sleep with clients, especially if some of these employees were veela. Like Ingrid said though, it would definitely be frustrating for them, being able to touch what would undoubtedly be an aroused witch or wizard, but not able to escalate like their instincts would demand.

He was also rather amused by the clumsy attempt to manipulate him into not imposing those same restrictions on Spellhaven. It was cute how she thought that having a beautiful naked woman straddling his thighs would be able to influence his decision, as if that was a rare situation.

"That does sound frustrating." He replied, deliberately noncommittal.

Harry did not care what they did with their clients. He did not even care if this was a plot by the veela commune to use the massage parlor like the proverbial fly trap to ensnare unsuspecting witches and wizards. As long as they didn't keep them cooped up in their bedrooms all the time, then they could have as many love thralls as they wanted as far as he was concerned.

He would make sure to spread a a few hints on the dangers of sleeping with veela. Dangers such as an increased desire to sleep with veela until you found yourself willing to do anything if only they would touch you again. Maybe even post a disclaimer next to the gates of their commune.

It probably wouldn't achieve anything. If young men were notorious for two things, it was overconfidence and thinking with their cocks. They would be as good as falling over themselves to enthrall themselves. Young women were scarcely any different, if they were at least bisexual then Harry fully expected them to fall prey to the veelas' charms just as easily.

That was fine with him. Law of the jungle and all that. Hunter chases prey. If a man steps into a jungle that he knows is full of carnivorous predators, he has no grounds to cry foul when he gets pounced on by a jaguar. More importantly, nobody else could blame the jaguar for being a jaguar.

Veela might not be big jungle cats, but the same principle applied.

"Judging by the tension in your back, you've had a frustrating day yourself." Ingrid commented, changing the subject.

"It was, but you're doing an excellent job of relaxing me." Harry figured that there was no downside to a little flirting.

Ingrid clearly agreed if the way she pressed herself flush against his back was any clue. "We will always be at your disposal if you need a good rubbing, my lord." She purred suggestively.

"Mmmm, how about that, we've acquired massage girls." Harry hummed complacently.

Luna simply cooed approvingly.

"Brilliant." Dora drawled indolently. "I do wonder what it's going to cost us though."

"We would never think to charge you for our services." Ivette, Dora's masseuse, was quick to assure.

"Yes, it would be our pleasure, so please call on us any time you want." Nadine added.

These ladies doth protest too much, methinks. Harry thought to himself in amusement. I do believe that the adage of 'if you aren't paying for the product, then you are the product' applies here. He wondered what what kind of scheme Fleur and her grandmother were running. Speaking of which, where were those two? They'd stepped out a little while ago and hadn't come back yet.

He got his answer about twenty minutes later, when they walked in just as Ingrid was finishing up the massage. They were dressed only in thin silk robes that they quickly discarded, leaving them as nude as everyone else.

Harry stood up and stretched a bit, marvelling at how good he felt. This was almost definitely a ploy to start an orgy, but damn if these girls didn't do a mean massage.

Dora and Luna were doing the same, but the three veela masseuses had remained sitting on the floor. He didn't have time to consider what that was about as Fleur pressed a vial of potion into his hand.

"What's this?" Harry asked, looking at the thick, cream-colored potion suspiciously.

"Something fun, I promise." Fleur said, blinking at him coquettishly. "Please trust me and drink it."

Harry only hesitated briefly before shrugging and drinking it. He did trust Fleur, enough to drink an unknown potion at her request.

It didn't taste quite as terrible as most potions, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either. Kind of thick and unpleasantly viscous. He didn't feel any obvious effects either.

"What's it do?" Dora asked curiously.

"I don't know." Harry frowned. "I'm not feeling any different."

"Just give it a little while, you should be feeling the effects soon." Aurélie advised.

Harry waited expectantly, trying to sense what the potion was doing to his body. In less than a minute, he began to feel an unpleasant fullness in his testicles that was reminiscent of the dreaded state of affairs colloquially known as 'blue balls'.

"What the hell?" He grunted, looking at Fleur a little accusingly.

"Just a little something to help you… produce." She said with a small laugh. "Now why don't you let Ingrid relieve the last of your tension?"

The veela in question shuffled forward a bit on her knees and stared hungrily at his throbbing erection.

"Yes, please let me finish you off." She purred, licking her lips. "My pride as a masseuse won't let me leave any tension in your body."

"I don't know, maybe I should make Fleur or Aurélie do it." Harry said, ignoring the steadily mounting pressure in his loins. "This tension is kind of their fault after all."

Ingrid looked as if someone had just stolen her Christmas presents right out of her hands.

"If it pleases you, then I will of course oblige." Aurélie said submissively.

Harry blinked. What the hell? Veela didn't do submissive, not unless you could dominate them sexually and even that tended to get shaken off quickly. Or unless they were up to something.

"I just thought that Ingrid deserved a little reward for the massage she gave you." Aurélie continued.

"It really would be very rude to not let her have dibs on your penis after she put in all that effort to seduce you." Luna opined. "I know that I'm letting Nadine lick my vagina before anyone else gets a turn."

"Thank you, Luna." Nadine gushed, hugging the smaller blonde. "That's very sweet of you."

Harry and Dora exchanged looks of fond exasperation for the youngest member of their group.

"Alright then. Have at it, Ingrid." Harry said, gesturing to his manhood.

She didn't need any more encouragement and practically dived on it, sucking it into her mouth as if it would escape if she didn't hurry.

Harry sighed in pleasure at her efforts. She had the same tendency to rush the blowjob to get at the prize that every veela he'd slept with so far had, but at the moment that was exactly what he needed.

It was barely two minutes before he felt his climax approaching and he knew that it was going to be a big one. Knowing veela as he did, Harry didn't bother to warn her, he merely grabbed her head and thrust himself as far down her throat as he could manage.

Although Fleur had told him that the potion would help him produce and he'd felt that it would be a big load, Harry was still caught off guard when it happened. It exploded out of his member and gouted down Ingrid's throat in a torrent that left him unable to do anything except hold on to her head for dear life and groan while he filled her belly.

When the potion-enhanced orgasm finally subsided, Harry was left panting for breath on shaky legs. Then he suddenly realised that Ingrid wouldn't have been able to breathe at all with him occupying her esophagus and quickly pulled back, rather gracelessly falling on his arse as his legs failed him.

He felt as if he'd just gone six rounds with Fleur at her horniest.

Meanwhile, Ingrid was holding a hand to her mouth and looked like she was fighting down the urge to vomit.

"You okay?" Harry asked, slightly worried.

"I'm fine." Ingrid replied, burping quietly and then giggling. "A bit lightheaded though."

"Sorry."

"Don't be, I enjoyed it." She assured and burped again." Excuse me."

Harry had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Well, Harry is going to be recovering for a few minutes." Fleur said, holding up another vial of potion. "Nymmie, would you like to go next?"

The metamorphmagus looked at her incredulously. "I just saw Harry nearly drown someone with his spunk because of that potion and you expect me to drink it?"

"Don't be so dramatic." Fleur rolled her eyes. "Harry might have been a bit more prolific than expected, but she was hardly in danger . Besides, unless you decide to grace us with your wondrous futa cock, you will at best give Ivette a shower."

Dora glared for a moment and then snatched the potion vial from Fleur's hand and chugged it without a word.

Harry settled himself into an armchair with another chuckle at how they'd corrupted their oldest girlfriend. He decided to watch while his body recovered from the explosive orgasm. He could already feel the potion working to restore his virility, but it would indeed be a while before he was up for another go.

Fleur also gave Luna a dose and then drank one herself before joining in on the fun. She went to work on Dora with Ivette while Ingrid went to join Nadine and Luna.

Aurélie stepped next to him with a large glass of juice."Here, you should drink this."

Seeing that it was not in any way magical, Harry accepted it without comment.

"So, what is this about?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?" The pregnant veela asked.

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you." He chided. "I know you're up to something and this ." He gestured at the unfolding, all-female orgy. "is somehow part of it."

Aurélie was quiet for a few moments before replying.

"I just wanted relations between you and the veela to get off on the right foot and what better way to do that than to get to know each other?"

"You're planning to bring more of them over then?" Harry surmised.

"Yes," She admitted with a smile. "but don't worry, it won't be too often and I will make sure it is enjoyable for all involved, especially the four of you. You are the lord of this land and we rely on your protection. It wouldn't be right for us to inconvenience you."

Their conversation was broken by a ragged cry of pleasure as Dora climaxed and squirted explosively, drenching Fleur and Ivette's faces, which had been at ground zero.

Harry whistled, impressed. "That's one hell of a potion you've brought."

"A veela invention." Aurélie said proudly.

"Figures." Harry snorted and stood up. He was recovered and ready for round two. "Now how about you help me do something about this returning tension that your sneaky veela potion is causing me?"

"I though you'd never ask." Aurélie purred.

They had to be careful due to the advanced stage of her pregnancy, but she easily settled herself on the edge of the huge bed and gave him a view that showed her clear eagerness.

Harry sheated himself inside her with ease and started thrusting, reveling in the heat radiating from her.

"Harder." Aurélie purred. "I'm pregnant, not made of glass."

He obliged and became more forceful, drawing moans of pleasure from her.

Just like what had happened with Ingrid, the potion made it nearly impossible to hold back and Harry felt his climax approaching rapidly.

Aurélie shuddered and cried out when he started filling her, using her legs to pull him close and prevent him from pulling out, not that he would.

"Extraordinary." She sighed and simply lay there with his seed dripping out of her.

Not that she was left alone for long, as Luna had also climaxed in the meanwhile, which meant that there were four veela that had only each other to play with. It wasn't long before they were competing to see which one could slurp out the most of his seed from Aurélie's opening. Well, three of them were competing. Ingrid was apparently still full and had decided to give Fleur a good licking instead.

The nasty spectacle was terribly arousing, but Harry could not for the life of him get it up yet, so he grabbed the juice and plopped himself on the massage mats in between Dora and Luna, paying no mind to the puddles of female ejaculate all over them.

"Here, drink this. You'll need it." He said with amusement.

The two girls eagerly guzzled down the liquid.

"How the hell do I keep letting you pervs draw me into these situations?" Dora sighed when she was done drinking.

"Because you're a pervert too and just like to pretend otherwise?" Luna theorised dreamily.

"Shut up, Luna."

They watched the show of the pregnant veela getting eaten out by her own granddaughter for a few minutes in silence.

"So, which one of you would like to be first to get stuffed with my cum up to the ovaries?" Harry asked out of the blue as soon as he was ready for round three.

"Ooh, pick me, pick me!" Luna volunteered excitedly.

"Damn it." Dora muttered and eyed the collections of butts swaying at the foot of the bed. "I think I'll go stuff one of them then."

"Sounds like a plan." Harry agreed. Even with the potion, he doubted he'd be able to adequately fill up seven women, five of which were veela, so a bit of help from Futa Tonks would be appreciated.

Narcissa opened the door to the master bedroom with a certain amount of hesitation. A gaggle of veela had thrown a birthday party for Harry today, including Fleur's grandmother. There was really only one way that could possibly end and she wasn't particularly eager to walk into the middle of it.

A veritable wall of sex-scented air hit her almost immediately and the sight that greeted her was just about what she'd expected.

One of the veela had her head buried in Luna's crotch, making noises of quiet enjoyment at what she was tasting. Luna was clearly exhausted, as she was just hanging limply in that sex swing contraption that Nymphadora had bought for Harry a few years ago and making an occasional mewling sound.

Speaking of her niece, she appeared to have morphed herself into partial maleness again from what Narcissa could see. That was admittedly not much with the heavily pregnant form of Aurélie slowly grinding on her waist and Fleur straddling her face.

Harry was less occupied, much to Narcissa's relief. He was lounging against the headboard of the bed, with the remaining two veela apparently working together to bring him back to readiness with their mouths. Even in the dim candlelight, the reason for his softness was clearly visible as it seeped from between the two veela's legs.

"Harry!" Narcissa stage-whispered, feeling for some reason that it would be obscene to speak normally in this tableau.

Harry opened his eyes, glowing slightly in the gloom. An eyebrow went up questioningly, but he made no move to get up.

"Emergency call from Fudge." Narcissa answered the unspoken question, still talking as softly as she could get away with.

Harry made an aggravated noise and gently pushed the two veela away, much to their tired protest.

He did eventually manage to focus them on each other while he left the room, still stark naked.

"Teeny, a robe please." He said to the air as they walked, causing the requested robe to be delivered. "Thank you."

The rest of the walk was made in silence, with Harry clearly very annoyed and Narcissa trying not to think about the fact that it had been nearly a week since he had been able to make any time for her.

"Cornelius." He spoke sternly into the mirror once they arrived in the study. "What the hell is so urgent that you had to call at… three in the fucking morning?"

The face of Cornelius Fudge was confused, as it often was.

"But it's almost six." He said, baffled.

"Time zone differences, Cornelius. Now what is this about?"

Fudge's expression instantly changed to fearful.

"It's horrible." He wailed. "Someone attacked Azkaban and released a bunch of prisoners!"

Harry briefly looked stunned before his features twisted into a scowl.

"I'll be there soon." He said and cut the connection.

For a moment the air was filled with a tense, angry silence

"Fuck!" Harry suddenly swore, slamming his fist down on the desk.

Narcissa jumped at the display of anger, having never seen Harry react like that to anything. Fortunately for her nerves, he calmed down quickly.

"Sorry about that, Cissy. One of my plans just went up in flames."

"Is there anything I can do?" She offered. It wasn't likely, but you never know.

He looked her over appraisingly, making Narcissa acutely aware that she was only wearing a thin silk robe and the barely existent lingerie he had long ago ordered her to wear at night.

"You can join me in the shower."

Ministry of Magic, London .

Bureaucrats, clerks and assorted lackeys scrambled out of the way as Harry stormed towards the lift with a thunderous scowl on his face.

Fucking Narcissa up the wall of the shower had calmed him down a little bit and it was a damn good thing that his runes shortened the duration of the potion, but the anger had come rushing back as soon as he entered the building. He was pissed at Dumbledore and at Snape for not having any warning of the attack on Azkaban, but mostly he was pissed at himself.

He'd known that Voldemort would eventually attack Azkaban, it was a given. He'd thought that he'd be able to use it to set a trap, since it was one of the very few locations that the Dark Lord was guaranteed to show up at eventually. Even if he couldn't die as long as he had at least one horcrux, he could still be rendered temporarily harmless.

Should have just gone there and killed the prisoners. He thought darkly. It would have been a bit tricky to do it without being noticed, but not impossible. He'd tried to be clever instead and it had backfired.

Snape had reported that Voldemort was still trying to gather new recruits and training the old ones. There had been no whisper of any plans to attack Azkaban… or anything else for that matter.

Harry had forgotten one very important thing.

The enemy could be clever too.

He should have seen it coming. Hadn't Dumbledore publicly declared that Snape was his spy after the end of the last war? Harry had thought that the mere fact of the greasy one's continued survival meant that Voldemort thought that Snape was his double agent rather than Dumbledore's. Maybe he did think that, but it was clear that Snape was not trusted with everything.

Harry had no fear of the possibility that Snape actually was a double agent for Voldemort. The man's soul was gripped by such a powerful sense of guilt that it shone through even his bitterness. He might be able to hide it from everyone else, but not from him. A man like that wouldn't be motivated by anything that Voldemort could offer.

He wondered about that sometimes, the guilt. Snape was not a man that was prone to remorse or regret, so this kind of crippling guilt was unusual to see in him. Guilt meant that he cared about something deeply, and the only thing he had ever seemed to care about was Lily Evans, later Potter.

It was from all accounts a possessive, selfish sort of love on his part, but that didn't matter. Dumbledore never did say how exactly Voldemort heard part of the prophecy. Harry idly wondered if Snape had been the one to tell him and indirectly got his parents killed, something like that would do it for certain. It didn't really matter, he supposed. Harry had never felt enough of a connection to his parents to feel vengeful about their deaths.

The slightly morbid mental tangent actually served to calm him down a little and by the time he reached Fudge's office, he had something of a plan. Fudge himself wasn't going to like it, but Fudge would believe that the sky was purple with green polka dots if he thought it would benefit him.

He ignored the stammered protest of the secretary and simply barged into the office.

Fudge was pacing nervously inside and nearly slumped in relief at his entrance.

"Harry!" He cried.

"Cornelius."

"It's a disaster, Harry!" Fudge continued to cry. "We have to keep this quiet, but Amelia is determined to talk to the press about it and won't listen to me."

"This isn't something you can keep quiet, Cornelius." Harry explained patiently.

"But we don't even have anyone to blame!" Fudge protested.

"Calm yourself." Harry said with an utter confidence that he knew Fudge had come to rely on. "I know who did this."

"Really?" The idiot's relief was palpable. "Who was it then?"

"Voldemort."

Fudge screamed as if scalded and pinwheeled his arms.

"That was a mean trick you played on me, Harry." He chuckled nervously after bringing his reaction somewhat under control.

"It's no joke I'm afraid." Harry replied flatly. "Voldemort didn't truly die on that night, he just wasn't fully alive this past decade and a half. I tried to prevent him from returning, but I've failed."

"That's impossible!" Fudge snapped, face taking on an angry red tinge in his vehemence. "You-Know-Who is dead and people don't come back from the dead! He can't be back, he just can't!"

Fudge was shouting by that point, so Harry slapped him.

"You hit me." The chubby politician said, holding his cheek in shock.

"You were freaking out." Harry retorted flatly. "You think I wouldn't prefer it if Voldemort was nothing but a bad memory?" He continued, ignoring the yelp Fudge made at the second use of the Dark Lord's name. "You think I enjoyed having to kill his followers before he could use them to restart his reign of terror? I would have been happy to mind my own business, but reality doesn't care about what we want. Shutting your eyes isn't going to help anyone, least of all you."

"You were the one…?" Fudge stuttered, staring at him in horror.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "I know you suspected me from the start, and it was wise of you to pretend otherwise, Cornelius. Sometimes, distasteful things have to be done, but it's better that the Minister of Magic isn't connected to them."

As expected, Fudge puffed up with pride and did not deny it. He would never deny praise even if it was clear to all and sundry that he didn't deserve it.

"Yes, yes of course." He blustered.

"I could always count on you to make wise decisions." Harry said, reaching over to give the idiot's shoulder a friendly squeeze. He was almost insultingly easy to manipulate. "Which is why I know I can rely on you to make another."

"Err…" Fudge stammered, clearly having no idea what he was talking about.

"There's no reason for you to concern yourself with this, Cornelius." Harry began persuasively, playing on the man's fears and desire for the problem to go away. "You're a politician, not an Auror. Let Amelia Bones handle it, that's her job after all."

Fudge nodded furiously.

"She'll need full Ministry backing, release from peacetime protocols when dealing with Death Eaters and funding of course, but that shouldn't be a problem." That was received less enthusiastically, but Harry pushed forward before Fudge could object. "More importantly, I'll need you to do a few things for me as well."

"What kind of things?"

Harry decided to go for a storybook approach. Wizards ate up that kind of shit and it helped that it was actually kind of true in this case. "Voldemort is my enemy just as Grindelwald was Dumbledore's, but I'm just a private citizen. I'll need some… wiggle room… where the law is concerned if I'm to take care of him now that the war is moving out of the shadows."

"Of course, anything you need!" Fudge jumped all over the idea. "Just give me a list of special powers you need and I'll see what I can do."

"As it happens, I have just such a list with me…"

August 1st, 2017. Ministry atrium.

The Ministry and Wizengamot could move shockingly fast when they wanted to. It took mere hours to bring Bones up to speed and organise a press conference.

Harry had spent most of that time helping Fudge make a few executive decisions, preparing his speech and briefing the head of the DMLE.

Bones had not been happy to learn that she'd been kept in the dark for so long, but had grudgingly admitted that they couldn't have done much to a non-corporeal Voldemort. She would probably be even less happy when she learned about the list of special privileges that Fudge was going to grant him.

A smarter man than Fudge would have noticed that, for a woman in charge of all law enforcement, she was curiously disinterested in how exactly Harry had been acting to counter Voldemort so far.

She'd still wanted to know everything else though, which Harry unfortunately couldn't give her. The horcruxes were still far too dangerous a subject to be bandied about and she couldn't do anything about them anyway. He did tell her about the prophecy though. Not the specifics, but that it existed. They might yet be able to bait a trap for Voldemort with that knowledge and she needed to know in case the Dark Tosser tried to pull another fast one.

Bones was giving her own speech at the moment. It was much starker and less flowery than the one Fudge gave, but there was steel behind her promise to defend Wizarding Britain from Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Harry would be giving a short speech of his own once she was done.

Strictly speaking, he had no business even being part of this. He was not a senior Ministry official, department head or Chief Warlock. A critical look at their little party would reveal that he didn't belong, standing next to Albus Dumbledore, who was Chief Warlock, and Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head Auror.

He was a powerful wizard, a prominent figure in British magical society and the one given undeserved credit for Voldemort's previous defeat, none of which was relevant. Had a similar situation been happening in the mundane world, his presence would be unusual at best, suspicious or outright criminal at worst.

But things worked differently when magic was involved. Protocol and law had a nasty tendency of bending around power even without it, but the effect was far more prominent with magical power.

Harry briefly caught Dumbledore's eye, but could not make out anything past the old man's serene expression. He had not been consulted about any of this, but he didn't seem upset. That didn't necessarily mean anything though.

"That is all I had to say for now," Bones finished, sounding more as if she was concluding a briefing than a press conference. It made Harry glad that he hadn't gone with his original plan of manipulating Fudge into resigning and making her the new Minister of Magic. The woman was Auror to the bone and much more effective in her current post. "but Lord Potter has asked to say a few words as well."

That had the reporters drooling. Damned vultures.

"All the salient points have already been covered by Minister Fudge and Madam Bones, so I will be brief." He said with a practiced fake smile, eliciting some equally fake laughter. Bunch of twits. "I know that the future may seem frightening with the shadow of Voldemort once more looming over it."

He stopped briefly, both to increase dramatic tension and to let allow the twits some time to regain their composure after the obligatory minor freakout that speaking Riddle's chosen moniker elicited. Damn Narcissa and her insistence on rhetoric lessons.

"But remember that he is just a man, not some unknowable monster from the beyond. Whatever power he has as a wizard and whatever rituals he has subjected himself to, he is still just a man like any other. He came squealing into this world like any other man, he has to eat and drink like any other man, he has to go to the bathroom like any other man and no matter how much he flees from it, he will inevitably die like any other man. I will be working closely with the fine men and women of our Auror Corps to see that it happens as quickly as possible."

Harry made his way out of the Ministry to the cheering of Magical Britain's NPC population.

I should ask Etal if he can sniff anyone out, just in case they haven't left the country yet…

Malfoy Manor.

Voldemort turned of the Wizarding Wireless, barely managing to restrain the urge to destroy it.

Had anyone spoken about him like that in the past, they would turn up dead in short order. Of course, the point was moot since he was already planning to kill Potter, but it was still infuriating.

Dumbledore had never made moves like this. The old man liked to keep any and all information close to the chest and would have never spoken to the press. Moreover, the kind of slander and propaganda that Potter had just engaged in would have been deemed to be beneath a wizard like Dumbledore.

Yet another sign that Potter was his true enemy, just as the prophecy had foretold.

When Harry made it back to Spellhaven,it was barely an hour after dawn thanks to the time zone difference.

He was exhausted. Not only had he spent a large portion of the night having more-tiring-than-normal sex, but he'd also been dealing with the Ministry's collection of idiots without the benefit of sleep. While he actually needed much less sleep than most people to be fully functional, it was still not ideal.

That was why he breathed a sigh of relief when he entered the master bedroom and saw six women conked out in it. Only Aurélie had apparently retained enough energy to actually get up at dawn in the usual veela fashion.

Judging by the smell, or lack of it, the others had only gotten up long enough to shower. Teeny must have removed the hopelessly soiled massage mats, aired the room, as well as changed the sheets and even the mattress.

Silently grateful that he hadn't argued against Fleur's decision to buy a gigantically oversized bed more strenuously, Harry added himself to the pile of bodies. The exhausted women merely mumbled in their sleep and made room for him.

Harry listened carefully as Etal hissed about scenting several familiar magical presences in a particular location.

"Oh, Draco, and here I thought you'd actually wised up when you moved to Italy." He said to himself with a sigh. "Narcissa will be heartbroken when she hears about this and I'm going to end up having to comfort her. I hate dealing with crying women, you dumb bastard."

Truth be told, he had not expected to find Voldemort and his pack of rabid animals still in Britain. The safer and smarter thing to do would have been to hide somewhere on the mainland, but it seemed that the Dark Lord was too prideful to make a strategic retreat once he'd completed his objective. That could be useful to know in the future.

August 2nd, 2017. Amelia Bones' office.

"Come again?" Amelia asked.

"Voldemort and his minions are hiding out at Malfoy Manor." Harry repeated patiently.

"And you know this… how?"

"I have my ways."

Amelia glared, but decided not to press the issue. It wasn't all that important how he knew and she couldn't force him to talk.

"I can't just raid Malfoy Manor without any proof or even suspicion of wrongdoing." However much she wished she could.

"Don't worry about it, I'll take the heat if it turns out to be empty." Harry assured.

"Alright, I'll organise a raid then." Amelia agreed. As long as her department didn't get any shit for it, then she would cheerfully cast Fiendfyre on the Malfoy residence.

"I'll go talk to Dumbledore while you're doing that. Might as well make use of the old bastard."

Grimmauld Place.

As luck would have it, the Order of the Phoenix was having a meeting just about then, so Harry decided to crash it. They probably weren't talking about anything important anyway.

"Good day, everyone. How are things?" He said as he burst through the door.

The Order looked startled. Oh, they knew that it was his house they were using, but he'd never bothered to greet them.

Quite a few people were familiar. Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, Remus Lupin, Sirius' ex-girlfriend Hestia Jones, Weasleys and more Weasleys. Oh, and Snape of course.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" The man in question sneered.

Harry replied by blasting him in the face with a stunner.

There was a moment of shocked silence before the newest member of the Order spoke.

"Wicked." Ron Weasley breathed out in awe, delighted at seeing his most hated professor taken down like it was nothing.

"We are in awe." Fred and George declared solemnly.

"Harry, why did you do that?" Dumbledore asked with a reproachful tone.

"He's a guest in my house and he has the balls to demand I explain my presence?" Harry retorted sardonically. "Besides, this gives him plausible deniability."

"Plausible deniability for what?" Dumbledore asked in confusion.

"For not knowing about the assault on Malfoy Manor."

"What assault on Malfoy Manor?" The old wizard was completely bewildered at this point.

"The one that you, me and the DMLE are mounting in a few hours."

Dumbledore was silent for a few seconds before speaking again.

"Would I be correct in assuming that you believe Voldemort is currently at Malfoy Manor?"

"I don't 'believe' anything, I know it for a certainty. You and I are going there and putting Voldie in the fucking ground. Again."

"Harry, I don't think we want to be hasty about this." Albus cautioned. He didn't want to mention horcruxes here, but he didn't understand why Harry would rush off to a battle that wouldn't achieve anything.

"Hasty?" Harry repeated flatly. "Hasty would be charging in there half-cocked. This is a deliberate and planned assault on an enemy stronghold before his forces have time to recover. I'm going, but I'm not deluded enough to think I can match Voldemort in a fight just yet, which means that you're going too, even if I have to drag you there by the beard."

"You can't talk to the Headmaster like that!" Molly Weasley protested.

"He's become a bit too used to having his word taken as law because of people like you." Harry shot back "I'll talk to him however the fuck I please and right now that means telling him that he is getting off his wrinkled old arse and fighting. You can't win a war by sitting on the defensive."

"Lad's got a point." Moody weighed in.

Albus held back a sigh as the Order looked at him for a reply. He didn't doubt that Harry's threat wasn't an idle one. The chances of Harry actually being able to force him to fight were slim, but he didn't want to quarrel with the younger wizard. They would need to work together to take care of Voldemort.

But Harry was just so impetuous! And so quick to resort to lethal means…

"Very well." He said heavily.

"I want in." Moody said with an ugly grin.

"I'm sure Bones won't mind that." Harry nodded firmly, more than happy to have him along. The mangled Auror was one of the very few Order members that was a proven fighter.

"What about the rest of us?" Ron Weasley complained.

Molly Weasley was about to rail on her youngest son for wanting to put himself in danger, but Harry cut her off with a derisive snort.

"The rest of you?" He repeated mockingly. "And what are the rest of you? Housewives, shopkeepers, bureaucrats and children so green you're still pissing grass. You'd be no use in a fight even if Bones would let you take part."

"You're not any older than me!" Ron yelled back, feeling personally attacked.

"Ronald, enough." Dumbledore interjected.

"But, Professor, I can fight!" Ron insisted.

Harry blasted him with a stunner.

"Ron!" Molly Weasley shrieked and dove for her son.

"Such a fighter." Harry said sarcastically, getting a rusty chuckle out of Moody.

"What is wrong with you?!" Molly demanded shrilly. "You can't just go around hexing people."

"He'll be fine, being magically stunned builds character." He said dismissively and turned back to Dumbledore. "Well this has been fun, but I have other things to do. Dumbledore, Moody, I'll be expecting you to show up at the Ministry in four hours. Fred, George, keep the grease stain unconscious until the excitement is over."

"Keep Snape unconscious?"

"It will be our distinct pleasure."

Harry smirked at their over-the-top acting and left. Those two had refused his offer of moving to Spellhaven, choosing to stay in Britain with their family despite the danger. Still, since their partnership was of a silent type, they might not be targeted. Not because of an association with him at least.

He hadn't known they'd joined the Order of the Phoenix, but wasn't too surprised either. What he assumed were Bill and Charlie were there too, meaning that pretty much every Weasley except Ginny and Percy were part of it now and Ginny might well insist on joining as soon as she became of age.

It was a strange feeling to consider Percy the smartest of the Weasleys, but there was no help for it. The others were clearly dumb enough to willingly wade into a war.

"Do people always stare at you like this?" Fleur asked as the four of them rode the Ministry lifts to the DMLE.

"Pretty much." Harry shrugged.

They were dressed in their basilisk hide armor and had drawn quite a lot of attention to themselves.

"I was getting some of this shite by proxy when our relationship became public." Dora said in disgust. "It's one of the things that made quitting easier."

"You can't blame them for staring at such beautiful women." Harry said smarmily.

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Fleur smirked.

"Even your knickers?"

" Especially our knickers."

"Oi, don't be speaking for my knickers." Dora protested jokingly.

"I'm not wearing any knickers." Luna chirped.

"I wish I had time to take advantage of that." Harry said mournfully just as they arrived and the lift doors began opening.

"Don't worry, Harry. I still won't be wearing any knickers when we get home." Luna reassured.

That little comment was overheard by one of the DMLE's clerks and he quickly made his escape upon seeing who it had come from.

"There goes another crazy rumor." Dora groaned.

"Could be." Harry chuckled.

It didn't take them long to reach Amelia Bones' office. Moody and Dumbledore were already there.

"Hey, Moody." Dora greeted her old mentor.

"Tonks." The grizzled Auror growled in response, giving her a once over. "Nice armor."

"It is, isn't it?" Dora preened a bit.

"Potter." Amelia greeted.

"Madam Bones."

"You were right." She continued. "I've had Scrimgeour and a team of Aurors conducting surveilance and they reported a definite Death Eater presence at Malfoy Manor. No sign of Voldemort though."

Amelia would be damned if she'd cower before a name while a boy of seventeen said it with impunity.

"He's there." Harry assured. "And if he isn't then perhaps all the better. Easier to kill his minions that way."

"Kill, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, take prisoner first. Kill later, once they've outlived their usefulness."

"We do not execute prisoners on a whim, Potter." Amelia said with a frown.

Harry produced a bit of parchment and handed it to her.

"Special dispensation from Fudge." He said as she started reading. "Azkaban has already proven unreliable, and as these are hostile forces intent on overthrowing the country rather than merely criminals, our esteemed Minister has agreed to let me take custody of any prisoners instead of the DMLE."

Amelia read through the whole document and scowled at the written proof of Fudge's stupidity. The bumbling fool was so desperate for the problem to go away that he had granted a private citizen unheard of privileges. This was more than just a decree that allowed Potter to take prisoners into his custody, this was an exemption from legal repercussions for actions done in pursuit of Voldemort's defeat.

True, some concessions had to be made due to the situation. That was why she hadn't protested Dumbledore's inclusion despite him not technically having any business partaking in a DMLE operation. He was a powerful wizard and and would useful to counter the threat of Voldemort.

Fudge had taken this a step further though. He'd given Potter carte blanché to do whatever he wanted to the Death Eaters and Voldemort. He could crucify them all in the middle of Diagon Alley and still not break the law.

Still, there was an upside to this. It also classified Death Eaters as enemy combatants rather than criminals. That was an important distinction. Plus, Potter's exemption from legal repercsussions only applied for actions done to Death Eaters, so it would cease to be in effect once the situation was dealt with.

Amelia had a feeling that Potter was still counting on her hatred and other people's fear of the Death Eaters to keep them from protesting against this too much, which definitely would happened have if this bit of stupidity from Fudge had been broader in scope. She was still wondering how he'd learned about the deep loathing she had for the scum. It wasn't something that she really let show.

She briefly glanced over at him, meeting his green eyes with her blue ones.

Let me kill them for you . The foreign thought popped into her head.

Amelia pushed him out with a glare. He had some nerve using Legilimency on the head of the DMLE, even if he hadn't attempted to probe her thoughts.

Still, the thought was tempting and it would certainly prevent any 'I was under the Imperius' nonsense once this was over.

But if she was being completely honest with herself, Amelia was going to take him up on that offer because she wanted revenge. The revenge that she had grudgingly set aside so long ago for Susan's sake.

"Harry, why do you need prisoners?" Dumbledore asked warily.

"The usual." Harry shrugged.

That was a subtle indication that he'd had prisoners before. Amelia pretended she'd hadn't heard it.

"You will, of course, share any information you gain from them?" She said instead, a note of warning in her tone.

"Of course."

Albus was not happy about any of this. He had agreed to come in the hopes of minimising casualties, but now it would seem that anyone that wasn't killed outright would be turned over to Harry's tender mercies anyway. Mercies he suspected were not very tender at all.

"What about Ms. Lovegood?" He said, in a last ditch effort to spare at least one person some horrors.

"What about me?" Luna quieried, head cocked sideways.

"You are still so very young, you should not throw away your innocence like this."

"Don't worry, Professor. Harry took away my innocence with his penis a year ago." Luna assured him.

Moody snorted out a laugh.

"Fleur and Dora will be with her at all times and she's more dangerous than she looks." Harry explained with an eyeroll.

Albus took in the petite little blonde with her dreamy expression and gentle smile. Well, it would certainly be hard for her to be less dangerous than she looked. He could sense that she was rather powerful, but it was surprisingly difficult to keep that in mind when looking directly at her.

"Besides, I fear the places she'd bite if we left her behind."

Moody snorted again.

They portkeyed to the outskirts of Malfoy Manor, where Rufus Scrimgeour had set up an surveilance.

It was little more than a spot buried under concealing spells where the Aurors spied on the manor through its windows with omniculars, but it did its job.

"Anything new to report?" Amelia asked right away.

"No." Scrimgeour shook his head. "We've confirmed the presence of Robert Mulciber and Rabastan Lestrange, but all the others we've seen are unknown. Still no sign of You-Know-Who."

Everyone tensed as the sound of Parseltongue hissed through the air, eyes snapping towards Harry.

"What are you doing?" Amelia demanded.

"Just calling a friend." Harry smiled.

A few seconds later, Etal zoomed in and wrapped himself around his shoulders.

" Can you tell how many there are in there? " Harry questioned.

" More than thirty for certain, perhaps as many as fifty. " Etal hissed in reply. " One among them is very strong, much stronger than the others. He has the taste/smell of snake. "

"Thank you. " Harry hissed back and relayed the information to the others.

"Your… friend" Amelia started a bit skeptically. "can tell that much?"

"Don't underestimate the powers of a quetzalcoatl." Harry replied gravely, feeling Etal preen at the praise.

"We'll need to bring in a good chunk of the Auror Department to handle that many." Scrimgeour said with a frown.

"Agreed." Amelia nodded.

"And then there's You-Know-Who himself, if he's actually in there." Scrimgeour continued.

"He is. Dumbledore and I will handle him." Harry stated.

It took another hour to bring in the necessary reinforcements as well as polish up the plan.

Ironically, it was a very similar plan to the one Death Eaters frequently used when doing their own raids. Block the floo, set up Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey wards, attack with overhwelming force and surprise.

Harry was sorely tempted to suggest simply torching the place with Fiendfyre once they'd blocked it off. Unfortunately, as satisfying as that would be, it probably wasn't a good idea. It would undoubtedly be extremely beneficial in the short term, but potentially ruinous in the long term.

He still didn't know for certain if the Dark Bastard had entrusted another horcrux to one of his followers, but if he had, then Bellatrix was by far the most likely person to be given that privilege. If she was allowed to take the secret of its location to the grave with her, then he might as well abandon searching for the horcruxes entirely and move to Plan B or C or D.

Immortal wasn't the same as invincible after all. Unfortunately, all of his contingency plans required him to capture Voldemort and that would be no easy feat.

Time passed slowly while the Aurors carefully crept around the grounds of the Malfoy estate, covered with concealing spells and invisibility cloaks, scanning for spells that might alert anyone inside to their presence. They couldn't screw up the casting or their targets could simply apparate away.

Dumbledore had already gone to the back side of the manor along with Moody at Harry's suggestion. That way, each prong of the assault would have a high-powered wizard to counter Voldemort.

Etal may not be able to get a precise read on the number of enemies inside, but he could easily detected where the most powerful presence was. Harry intended Dumbledore to encounter the Dark Lord first. The old man might have some very strange notions about how to fight Voldemort and his minions, but a battle to the death had a way of bringing things into focus.

Knowing that the call to advance would most likely come soon, Harry took out his gun and gave it a brief inspection.

He'd never used it in a combat situation before and it paid to be careful.

"What's that?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked curiously, staring at the weapon.

The tall Auror had been chatting quietly with Dora as they waited, just two former colleagues catching up.

"A gun." Harry answered blandly.

"One of those muggle firelegs?" Shacklebolt questioned further.

"Fire arms ." Harry corrected with an exasperated sigh. Wizards…

Dora was snickering in the background.

"Is that really going to be any use in a battle with magic?" Shacklebolt asked skeptically.

"We'll see." Harry didn't care to convince the man of the virtues of projectile weaponry. Any wide-spectrum shield charm could block a bullet with little effort, that was true. Shame that bullets were faster than spells though.

"Is it enchanted?" Shacklebolt continued to ask.

"A little bit." The sound was greatly dimmed and the magazine expanded, but nothing more.

"You know it's illegal to enchant muggle items, right?"

"No, it's illegal to enchant things so that they perform functions that they aren't designed for. My enchantments only make it better at what it's designed for." Not that it would have stopped him in any case.

"Look sharp, people. Wards are going up any minute now." Bones's voice cut through the murmur of conversation.

Harry exchanged looks with his girls and they began making final preparations.

First was the hood of their basilisk hide coats and then a heavily enchanted cloth facemask to protect against any potential gas attacks… or the unlikely event of finding themselves underwater. After that came the string of persistent defensive spells that Harry had created, stolen shamelessly from Dungeons & Dragons for the most part.

" Minor Globe of Invulnerability. " Something to make low-power spells a non-issue. It wasn't much, but every little bit helped. He was still working on higher level Abjuration.

" Protection From Fire. " That one was self-explanatory.

" Kinetic Energy Reversal. " In case someone got cute with physical attacks or conjured projectiles or perhaps even guns.

" Blur. " An illusion to… well… blur the caster. Made them harder to hit.

" Mirror Image. " Two illusionary copies of the caster appeared on each side, also blurred out by the previous spell to confuse the issue even further.

" Shroud of Darkness. " Both casters and mirror images, already blurred out, were now cloaked in heavy shadow. It was as much a psychological effect as it was to make it even harder to perceive the caster.

The surrounding Aurors looked at the four - now twelve - blurred out and shadow-shrouded spellcasters with no small amount of shock.

"What?" Harry asked, his voice trippled by the Mirror Image.

Voldemort frowned and stopped speaking mid-sentence. There was a strange feeling in the air…

"My lord?" A worried Bellatrix queried, always hyper-attentive to the moods of her master . "Is something wrong."

The Dark Lord was in an informal meeting with some of his closest followers. Most of the conversation was just ranting about mudbloods and muggles or declarations of horrible revenge against Harry Potter, but some of it was actual planning.

It was only a few moments later that he recognised the particular sense of subtle pressure characteristic of an Anti-Apparition Ward and his eyes widened in surprise.

There was really only one reason for that kind of ward to spring up around your place of residence without warning.

"Draco, raise the wards and tell everyone you see to gather in the main ball room!" He ordered urgently.

"My lord, what's going on?" Draco asked.

"Just do as I say." Voldemort snapped impatiently, resisting the urge to Crucio the stupid boy for asking even more stupid questions. "Mulciber, find and order everyone to the main ball room."

"At once, my lord!" Robert Mulciber said and ran off, knowing that his younger brother, just saved from Azkaban, was there.

"Avery, take a few men and defend the entrance hall. We are about to have company."

"We're under attack?" Travers asked while Avery sprinted out of the room, stunned.

He wasn't the only surprised. The Ministry was never this efficient.

"There goes the element of surprise." Harry said wryly, though there was a scowl on his face. War wards, most of the old families had them around their manors, a remnant from before they were made illegal.

"How did they know?" Bones asked in frustration.

"Voldemort must have sensed the Anti-Apparition Ward going up." Harry guessed.

"It'll take us at least a day to take those down." She said in frustration.

"No, it won't."

"What are you-"

"Shh, I need to focus."

Amelia's face was full of outrage at being shushed, especially in front of her subordinates, but she simmered down upon seeing the spell forming in front of Harry. The power radiating from it was enough to tell her that it would probably be bad if he was distracted.

It took nearly half a minute for him to finish, as the spell was both fairly complex and one he hadn't practiced exhaustively. When it was ready, he cast it, sending a spiralling lance of magical energy spearing towards the wards

There was a bright, soundless flash and a jarring sense of discord that echoed in the magic of the more sensitive of those present, and then the wards collapsed.

Harry breathed out with a small grin. He'd always wanted to cast a Spellshear."Let's go."

His girls nodded firmly and moved forward with him. The Aurors shook off their surprise quickly and followed.

Spellfire came from the windows, but Harry made no move to defend himself, trusting that the girls would do their job just like they'd practiced.

And so they did. Luna and Dora worked together to set up a powerful shield that could hold until doomsday against this level of assault and Fleur conjured up a swarm of butterflies.

Just in time too, as the green light of the Killing Curse flew towards them, only to strike one of the butterflies and expend its power on it.

The Unforgivables might be unblockable by any magical shield, but they were still single target spells. Whether that target was a full grown man or a butterly made no difference.

The Aurors returned fire on the windows, but Fleur went to work on the ostentatious double doors with overpowered blasting curses, blowing them and a good chunk of the surrounding walls to pieces.

Being considerably outnumbered and outgunned, Voldemort's minions were forced to hide deeper inside the entrance hall to keep from getting hit by Fleur's blasting curses.

Harry had not fired a single spell yet aside from the Spellshear, but he had taken the time it took him to advance to prepare one of his favorites.

" Electrosphere. " He said aloud just for the sake of being dramatic, casting the spell at a grouping of three black-garbed wizards.

The spell started off as a tiny ball of crackling electricity, but it quickly expanded until it reached nearly four meters in diameter, more than enough to catch all three of the death eaters in its radius. Two of them managed to cast shields, but the uni-directional constructs were no use against the expanding web of energy, leaving all three spasming violently on the ground.

Not pausing to watch the effects, he turned the gun on what looked like the leader and fired several rounds into his legs. While he was no master marksman, he was competent enough and had learned how to use his magic to help him hit what he wanted to hit. Avery went down screaming with his legs full of bullets.

As a finisher, he grabbed the gaudy silver and emerald chandelier hanging from the ceiling with his will and hurled it at the last enemy standing, or the last enemy running to be precise, as that one had attempted to make a hasty strategic retreat.

Fleur had lashed another one with a white-hot flame whip while he tried to attack them, relieving him of an arm and cutting deep into his chest.

The Aurors had themselves put down the remaining two with massed fire.

It was important to note that a good chunk of Voldemort's current forces were made up of low-grade thungs and mercenaries gathered up from all acroos Europe, including all seven of those that Avery had hustled up to defend the entrance hall as he'd been ordered. They had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters for the promise of riches and power, but their talents lay more in their easy willingness to use violence against those less comfortable with it than in fighting off a concerted assault by a prepared enemy.

Voldemort had done his best to mould them into a unified fighting force, but it was hard to do that when you were starting out with what was frankly the scum of society. Just over a month and one operation against a poorly defended prison running on a skeleton crew of human guards and some non-hostile dementors wasn't enough.

Plus, with Harry having talked Fudge into classifying Voldemort and his servants as enemy combatants rather than criminals, the combat paradigm had shifted. There were no warnings, no calls to lay down wands and come quietly, nor was there any attempt to use the minimum required force. Amelia Bones had told her people that they had free reign to use anything short of the Unforgivables or Fiendfyre with no fear of the consequences. They wouldn't even have to file a report later.

Combine these facts with the unexpected nature of the attack, and it was no wonder that they performed so poorly.

Avery was still moaning and groaning in pain when Harry moved to loom over him and dispelled the Blur, Shroud of Darkness and Mirror Image and pulled down his facemask.

"Potter." Avery said painfully, a sinking feeling in his chest.

"Hello, Avery." Harry greeted with a smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Fuck you, Potter." Avery spat, sweat pouring down his face from the pain. "I might die here, but I take comfort in knowing that the Dark Lord will kill you and your whores."

"Die here?" Harry repeated. "Oh no, Avery. You'll not be dying here."

With that, he cast a white-hot flame cutter at Avery's thighs, amputating his legs and instantly cauterising the stumps. Couldn't have him bleeding out from bullet wounds after all.

Avery howled in pain, so Harry knocked him out with a stunner. Screaming still annoyed him as much as it ever did.

The Aurors looked more than a bit perturbed by the casual brutality, but Harry paid them no mind as Etal showed up again.

" What can you taste/smell? " He asked.

" The powerful one with the taste/smell of snake is down there along with many others. He is already engaged in battle with the winged squeaker's human. " The quetzalcoatl hissed, pointing his tail at a hallway that went between the ostentatious double stairway. " And there are more upstairs. "

" Thank you. "

"Madam Bones." Harry called, bringing the woman's attention to himself. "Voldemort is down that way and Dumbledore is already fighting him, but there are an unknown number of hostiles upstairs."

Amelia nodded firmly in acknowledgement. The downed death eaters here had already been clapped in irons that would prevent escape, so they were ready to move on.

"Proudfoot, guard the prisoners. Shacklebolt, Dawlish, your teams have the upper floors. I'll take the rest with Potter to confront Voldemort."

"Girls, you go upstairs too."

"Harry…" Dora growled, glaring at him.

"Don't worry, I doubt Voldy will have the stomach to fight so many." Harry assured, getting terse nods from his girls. "Stay safe."

"You too."

They split up then, with Etal pointing the way towards Voldemort. Their progress was mostly unimpeded aside from one clever fool who thought he could hide in a store room of some kind. Harry had sensed him through the wall and made it explode outwards, nearly shredding the man with rocky shrapnel.

When they were nearly at that Malfoy Manor ball room, Harry asked Etal to go find the girls, not wanting to risk the quetzalcoatl getting killed by Voldemort.

Voldemort had little thought to spare for his situation as he dueled Dumbledore, but he was furious nonetheless.

In the entirety of his first attempt to topple Magical Britain, he had never been attacked like this and he did not appreciate the experience.

At least he had managed to facilitate the escape of most of his inner circle. Dumbledore remained as soft as ever and his attempts to protect the pitiful Aurors that had come with him had been enough of a distraction to the ancient wizard that his servants had been able to break out. They were pursued by an Auror he recognised as Gawain Robards, but he was confident that even weakened by Azkaban, Bella and the others would make it to the edge of the Anti-Apparition Ward. He had also sent Nagini with them, both to protect his final horcrux from destruction and to aid in the escape of his servants while he stayed behind and dueled Dumbledore.

Though the action seemed noble, Voldemort was merely being practical. He needed his servants and they would all be lost if they stayed to fight. It would be intolerable to lose them barely a day after he got them out of prison. He was not looking forward to hearing the report on what kind of losses his forces had sustained though.

Fighting a rearguard action was anathema to Voldemort, who was more comfortable with attack and he was greatly angered by it. How was he supposed to strike terror into people's hearts if he was on the retreat?

Still, there was nothing else for it. His enemies had won this time.

He was just about to make his escape when he sensed a Blood Boiling Curse coming at him from the side.

Reflexively, he swatted it away with a wave of his wand, only realising a moment afterwards that Dumbledore would never cast such a spell. Not only did the old man prefer Transfiguration, but he would never 'stoop' to using a dark curse.

Both Dumbledore and Voldemort stopped their battle and turned to the new arrival.

"Ah, Harry Potter." Voldemort said softly. "So good of you to join us."

The Dark Lord took in his prophesied nemesis and was grudgingly impressed. The boy he had last seen while possessing Quirrel was no more. He had become a grown man and a very powerful wizard. But of course, anyone that was foretold by prophecy to be capable of vanquishing him would have to be powerful.

He disregarded the Aurors behind him as irrelevant. They were nothing to him.

"Annoyed to be here." Harry snarked, showing no reaction to the inhuman features of his enemy.

"Truly?" Voldemort mocked. "Are you not even slightly interested in getting revenge on the one who killed your parents?"

"People die in wars and my parents chose to fight in one, so fuck them." Harry said coldly.

"Harry, you cannot mean that." Dumbledore protested, knowing that James and Lily would be heartbroken by such a declaration.

"Oh, I mean it alright. I'm more annoyed by the timing of his little jailbreak maneuver. Fudge came crying to me in the middle of the fucking night and interruped the birthday orgy I was having."

Voldemort blinked in surprise, then he started chuckling.

"What's wrong, Dumbledore? Is the Boy-Who-Lived not the shining hero you had hoped for?" He mocked.

"No." Dumbledore conceded. "But I am at least assured that he will not use his great power for evil."

"There is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it." Voldemort sneered back.

"The only good is knowledge, the only evil is ignorance." Harry weighed in with his own creed.

Voldemort looked briefly thoughtful before giving a tiny nod. It was an eminently Ravenclaw thing to say and something that he could respect, unlike Dumbledore's self-righteousness.

"Socrates, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Ahzek Ahriman. Same quote though."

"I assume you are not referring to the Zoroastrian spirit of destruction?"

"Nope." Harry said without elaboration. He had no intention of explaining the circumstances and philosophies of a fictional sorcerer.

The slightly surreal conversation petered out, leaving the three powerful wizards staring watchfully at each other. The air felt heavy and ominous under the weight of their conflicting wills and the potential for violence fairly simmered between them.

Behind and slightly to the side of Harry, Amelia Bones and her Aurors stood tensely, reluctant to interfere in the standoff. Most of them remembered how dangerous it was to get in the middle of a pissing contest between the extremely powerful.

Voldemort knew that he should flee. He was outnumbered and had no hope of achieving anything much. The Aurors did not concern him. Indeed, they would be more of a hindrance to his enemies than anything else, which was why Dumbledore had sent away the Aurors that had come with him. although Voldemort doubted that Potter was the same sort of bleeding heart as Dumbledore and likely wouldn't sacrifice the advantage to defend them.

Potter he would like to test in combat, but likely would not have the chance with Dumbledore present. That was a pity, as it would have been interesting to see his skill with wandless magic. He had sensed the ripples in his aura during their conversation that he guessed meant that Potter had been forming a spell while they spoke.

Still, his pride prevented him from running so easily, so he stood and watched his enemies with wary red eyes.

Dumbledore waited for the hostilities to begin again and pondered Lily Potter's sacrifice. Would it still protect young Harry?

The answer to that was no, it would not. Dumbledore had himself diluted the power of that protection when he had broadened it in scope to defend from more than just Voldemort and bound it to Petunia Dursley. It had been weakened further by the lack of care that Lily's sister had for her nephew and then further still when he was sent away. The last of it fizzled out due to Harry's own stubborn desire to be the master of his own destiny, within which was implicit that he could not rely on others to shield him, including his parents.

Harry wondered if he was lucky enough to kill Voldemort with a cheap shot. Probably not. He also wondered what sort of trick Voldemort had up his sleeve that would allow him to disengage from this fight with the Anti-Apparition Ward still up. It had to be quite something if he was confident enough in it to wait around while more enemies were on the way.

Something had to give eventually and the silent standoff didn't last long. In this case, it was one of the younger Aurors that lost their nerve and fired off a spell, causing the situation to explode into violence.

Voldemort easily sidestepped the spell and retaliated with a Killing Curse. The bright green spell struck true and the Auror dropped bonelessly to the ground.

"Jenkins!" Someone yelled.

Harry had cast his own pre-prepared spell almost at the same time as Voldemort, the Forbidden Sun roaring out towards the Dark Lord.

Voldemort practically glided across the room, not willing to try blocking it. This also caused all the spells cast by the other Aurors to miss him completely. He quickly fired off several more spells at the Aurors during his dodge, forcing Dumbledore to block them.

The Forbidden Sun crashed into the floor a ways behind the spot where Voldemort had been previously standing, exploding into unnatural red flames and leaving behind a small pool of lava.

Harry immediately started firing his gun, but Voldemort already had a shield up, easily deflecting both the bullets and the spells sent at him by the Aurors.

Voldemort quickly tired of being on the defensive and pushed more power into his shield, then he spelled it with a quick persistence charm. It wouldn't last long on its own, but long enough for him to retaliate with a volley of deadly spells.

The Aurors scattered to avoid them and Dumbledore conjured up marble slabs to protect those that weren't fast enough.

Harry slapped away the Organ Rupturing Curse that had been sent at him with his bare hand, encased in a small but extremely powerful shield. He retaliated with a wide-area Cutting Curse and a hail of bullets that forced Voldemort to shield himself again.

Dumbledore scooped up some of the cooling lava left over from the Forbidden Sun and threw it in his old student's direction.

Voldemort was quickly put back on the defensive by the numbers arrayed against him and he had to spend most of his time turtling behind a shield even as he dodged. When a spell from Harry covered the marble floor near him in grease and made his footing precarious, he knew that it was time to leave, preferably before that grease was ignited.

With an infuriated roar, he sent out a wave of force that threw Amelia and her Aurors to the ground. Harry and Dumbledore managed to stay on their feet.

"We will meet again, Harry Potter." Voldemort promised softly and flew out of the hole in the wall that his followers had previously escaped through.

"That's a neat trick." Harry said, staring after the rapidly retreating form of the Dark Lord doing a fucking Superman impression with narrowed eyes. He was going to steal that trick.

Senior Auror Robards and his team showed up soon after, hauling four prisoners behind them.

"We only got Travers and three unknowns, ma'am." Robards reported, scowling.

The fleeing Death Eaters, though weakened by the years spent in Azkaban, were driven by a powerful urge to not return there anytime soon. They had pushed themselves well beyond their limits in their desire to escape and would be paying for it later, but escaped they had.

Amelia wasn't happy to hear that either, especially on top of seeing Voldemort returned with her own eyes and having the bastard escape. Still, this was the most successful operation ever mounted against the Death Eaters by far, so she couldn't complain too much.

"Alright, let's go see what the others caught." She said.

They found the others in the Malfoy drawing room.

The thing that immediately caught everyone's attention was the seventeen badly abused and traumatised looking women huddled together, wrapped in robes and blankets. Harry could tell at a glance that they were non-magical and it wasn't hard to guess why they were here, especially with the fury practically radiating from Dora.

Shacklebolt made his way over to his boss.

"Ma'am, we found twelve Death Eaters on the upper floors. Rabastan Lestrange, the Mulciber brothers and nine unknowns. Two of the unknowns are dead." He reported and then briefly hesitated before continuing. "And we also found Barty Crouch, he's showing signs of severe Cruciatus exposure."

Amelia rubbed her forehead with a grimace. That explained where her predecessor had vanished off to.

"Good work, Shacklebolt." She said anyway, glancing over at the pile of unsconscious, wounded, maimed and if her eyes didn't deceive her, castrated Death Eaters stuffed into a corner. "The women…?"

"Muggle prisoners." Shacklebolt said with a scowl.

"Madam Bones." Dawlish butted in, scowling for a different reason altogether. "Former Auror Nymphadora Tonks has been interfering with procedure."

"How so?" Amelia asked, glancing at the clearly fuming metamorphmagus that was staring at the back of Dawlish's head as if she found his existence personally offensive.

"She wouldn't let us call the obliviators so that these muggles could be returned to their own kind." Dawlish explained.

Harry sighed as he saw his oldest girlfriend swell even further in rage and start making her way towards the idiot Auror with deliberation in every step. Her eyes were nearly glowing orange under an agitated pile of spiked, equally flaming hair. That was a sure sign that she was well beyond the point of being dangerously pissed off.

"Turn around, Dawlish." He said wryly.

"Huh?" Dawlish said eloquently and did as he was told. Just in time to take a fist to the jaw that sent him spinning to the floor.

Harry was impressed. Dora had been playing around with her muscle and bone density lately, but this was the first time he'd seen a practical demonstration.

"I told you to keep your stupid mouth shut if you know what's good for you, Dawlish." She bit out, glaring at the man that was currently spitting out broken teeth.

"Tonks!" Amelia exclaimed sternly. "You can't just hit one of my Aurors!"

The metamorphmagus turned her glare on her former boss, causing Amelia to briefly fear that she'd soon find herself spitting out teeth right next to Dawlish. To her relief, Tonks merely snarled and stormed back to where she'd been before.

"Best let it go." Harry advised quietly. "Dora has a bit of a temper about this sort of thing."

That was an understatement of epic proportions if ever there was one. Their Death Eater hunts had revealed several ugly truths about the magical world, but the one that had struck Dora the hardest had been how common an occurence the rape of non-magical women paired with a memory wipe was.

Harry couldn't say that he was terribly surprised by it. People were shit and could almost never be trusted to have power over others. An isolated society with special powers that looked down on ordinary people was guaranteed to breed types with superior attitudes that would think nothing of having some 'fun' with an unsuspecting mundane girl and then wiping her mind. Besides, what was the harm? It's not like she'd remember anything, right? He would be terribly surprised if it was just the wizard-raised doing it too. Muggleborns could be arseholes just the same as anyone else.

It also explained the numbers discrepancy. Harry had once tried to calculate the chances of a magical child being born to non-magical parents in the absence of any other factors. He lacked a lot of the information necessary to get an accurate estimate, but he had managed to ballpark the probability to somewhere between one in a million and one in ten million.

First generation magicalis supposedly made up about 10% of the three British magi population, and many of them didn't stay in the country because of the prejudices leveled against them. That added up to more than three hundred supposed muggleborns. Even with the population difference between the magical and mundane worlds, the numbers simply didn't match up, not by a long shot.

The obvious conclusion was that lonely wizards went around raping non-magical women and sometimes forgot - or didn't bother - to apply contraceptive spells. This theory was corroborated by several things. First, by the fact that the number of new muggleborns had lessened over time as abortion became less of a taboo prospect in non-magical culture and more damningly, when one wizard they'd taken captive - someone that was sympathetic to Voldemort's cause but too young to have ever been a Death Eater - talked about a 'Hogwarts graduation tradition' that people in certain circles had.

Dora had been furious beyond words. That was the moment that she stopped keeping an eye on what he did with the prisoners. She still made sure that he didn't create some kind of abomination with his experiments, but she no longer cared if he tore apart their minds for the sake of practicing Legilimency or if he force fed them experimental potions just to see what would happen or any number of other cruelties.

Perhaps the worst part of it for her was the DMLE's attitude to that kind of thing. Namely, that it simply didn't care much as long as the Statute of Secrecy wasn't breached. Oh, they'd arrest people if they were caught in the act, but they didn't really bother to even try catching those that did it. It was just cultural background noise that nobody really paid attention to.

That unpleasant revelation had broken something in Dora. She'd once truly believed that the DMLE and the Auror Corps were the good guys, but then it turned out that they were just as rotten as the rest of the Ministry in their own way. She couldn't even trust that her former co-workers hadn't engaged in that kind of 'fun' at some point. That was no doubt why Dawlish had received his abrupt dental makeover. Harry wouldn't be surprised if Dawlish actually had done something like that at one point or even if he still did it. His attitude towards the women here was dissmisive enough for it to be possible.

Luna and Fleur had more mild reactions, fortunately. Luna had been upset, but had cheered herself up with cuddles and Fleur…

Well, Fleur was a veela and veela were removed from the non-magical world not just by culture but also by species. A veela's draw towards magic made mundanes feel not quite 'real' to them, in a manner of speaking. While she did feel bad for the women, she wasn't able to really empathise the way that Dora did.

"Harry, we're taking these women with us too." Dora said a few minutes after punching out Dawlish, now somewhat calmer but her tone was steely and uncompromising. She didn't trust St. Mungo's enough to take them there either.

"Alright." Harry nodded agreeably. There were healers on Spellhaven that could look after them and mundane abortion clinics could be found if they were needed. Magical healers tended to have a lot of asinine anti-abortion ideas. Then they could be obliviated and returned to their families. It would be kinder than what the Ministry would do, which was to simply wipe their minds and leave them somewhere in London.

It was technically illegal for them to take custody of the women of course, but Harry was sure that he could convince Fudge to make it legal.

And speaking of things being made legal, that reminded Harry of something.

"Teeny, Kreacher." He said, drawing almost everyone's attention.

The two house elves popped in and looked at him expectantly.

"Master called?" They chorused.

"Indeed I did." He replied with amusement. "As we discussed earlier, take everything that isn't nailed down, starting with the library and any enchanted items, but be on the lookout for any cursed shite."

"Potter, what are you doing?" Amelia demanded as the two elves popped away, having a vague bad feeling about this.

"Looting this dump." Harry answered blithely. "Fudge agreed with me that letting terrorists keep their wealth was dumb, so every identified Death Eater will have their possessions seized. I get first dibs so that I can check for cursed items."

That was a load of horseshit. He got first dibs because Fudge wanted the 10% cut he'd been promised from the sale of furniture and other valuables, something that he couldn't take if the Ministry seized the assets in an official capacity.

"I see that you haven't grown out of your mercenary ways yet, Harry." Dumbledore sighed in disappointment.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Harry chuckled, making a mental note to come back here once Teeny and Kreacher were done looting it so that he could burn the place to the ground.

That way he could honestly say, once he'd killed Draco, that he'd killed House Malfoy's men, fucked its women, and finally pillaged and burned its home.

August 3rd, 2017. Vienna.

Bjomolf put down the Daily Prophet he'd been reading with a chuckle.

"Well played, Harry. Well played indeed." He said with a small grin. The front page of the magical newspaper was plastered with a sensationalised story of how Voldemort had been driven out of Britain by the combined efforts of Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore and the DMLE.

"I thought you would be upset." Zuzanna, his childe and assistant for more than sixty years, commented.

"Not at all." Bjomolf chuckled again. It was hardly the first time things had deviated from the script in the past one hundred or so years since the great plan was conceived, nor was it even close to being the most surprising deviation. "True, it will slow things down a little, but that may well be for the best. Haste has almost always betrayed us in the past."