Department of Mysteries: Consequences.

We had expected a successful operation at the Ministry to cause a crisis, but my unscheduled retreat had seriously aggravated it. The newspapers, both English and foreign, were full of headlines about a "colossal failure of the Ministry of Magic." Scrimgeour's chair began to sway seriously. If I were Albus, I would have moved Scrimgeour and sat down in his place myself, but, apparently, Albus decided not to do so.

Our propaganda department (I don't know what it's officially called) had already begun distributing cartoons of Albus Dumbledore gluing Scrimgeour to a chair. Or of Albus admitting that he couldn't handle the Lord's student because, unlike Grindelwald, she refused to go on a date with him...

The sorting out of the items we had taken from the Department of Mysteries took some time and proceeded rather routinely. The Lestranges and Barty Crouch Jr. had become the owners of Time-Turners. Rabastan was the happiest of all. Another Time-Turner went to Lucius Malfoy, but he gave it to me, Elena, almost immediately.

I appointed Rookwood as the head of my new Department of Mysteries. Most of the things had not yet been put to use, and Rookwood himself resembled a miser over his savings, only instead of money, he had strange objects. Several groups of my employees, using the items they had received, went to look for an Obscurus for me. Others began searching for the Peverell Source.

I bestowed upon Harry and Neville an unprecedented honor - I ran them through all the scanning spells I knew (including necroenergy and a Horcrux check), and through everything that could magically scan them from the Department of Mysteries. Either I know nothing about magic, or they are the most ordinary wizards.

"The power that the Dark Lord does not know" was not discovered. The only thing that was discovered was that Neville was extremely gifted in herbology and extremely untalented in potion making. But I'm not afraid of the Devil's Snare, and this only reduced the chances of him being able to poison me. So I decided to ignore the prophecy, because there is no reason to suspect these children of anything. It was probably either about the old Tom, or it's just nonsense.

I subjected Bella and Nymphadora to a full scan. Nymphadora was incredibly lucky: her death in the ritual to transfer the metamorphosis to Bellatrix is ​​no better than another metamorph. Of course, this would not have saved her from death, but it turned out that with a high degree of probability, Nymphadora's metamorphosis is hereditary! And why would I kill the goose that lays golden eggs?

First, I completely erased Nymphadora's memory. Then I spent a long time picking at her personality, doing something similar to what Crouch did with Lily. Naturally, if Nymphadora had at least some understanding of Occlumency or mental magic, this would have been very difficult to do. What I got was a completely different person who had no memory of her past life. I'm almost certain that it's impossible to bring her back to her previous state. And she certainly won't be able to do it on her own.

And even if Albus catches her and spends a lot of time restoring her, then what's the problem for me? Soon Nymphadora was acquainted with the "truth": "She is the illegitimate daughter of one of the Death Eaters by a half-blooded wizard. Her parents were killed by the Aurors, and she lost her memory. And she is being sent away from the war. To Brazil, in the care of a woman who studies herbology."

Thanks to a little mental influence, my sincerity did not raise any doubts. That's it, the girl can be forgotten until she reaches childbearing age; then we'll see. If she is not useful, there will be proof that Andromeda served me.

With Bellatrix, everything turned out to be very interesting. Using Abidemi and a number of scanning artifacts, I developed a method for healing her... only it is too original. Okay, I will prepare, and we will try. But the main goal was achieved — I became the owner of three dozen actively cooperating Brains, with whom I could communicate using the semaphore alphabet.

It cannot be said that these Brains were so perfect. They didn't qualify as personalities or "Artificial Intelligence." They were more like fish in an aquarium that could count — including calculating spells. Each of them could perform calculations and construct spells like a trained magician. The advantage was that these Brains could work constantly and didn't need time for food, sleep, or other distractions. The time lost from stimulation by the Fourth Unforgivable didn't even amount to twenty minutes a day.

The problem, however, was that it wasn't possible to organize the Brains for teamwork. One of them could calculate something, pass the results to a magician, and that magician could pass it to another Brain, but they couldn't all work together at the same time independently. So, checking my ritual with one Brain would take several months.

And it will take a long time before I can achieve powerful spells. Instead of creating several super-powerful spells from the rest of the Brains, I will become the owner of a couple dozen new spells per month, which can only be described as "small fry." For example, why do I need a new stunning spell that only works on blonde women? Okay, even if ten percent of their spells are useful, it will do.

But I was able to achieve something with the help of the Brains and a number of artifacts.

I was always interested in the question – why do we need a magical marriage? After all, not all purebloods have a source, and not everyone imposes any obligations on themselves after the wedding. The most obvious answers are tradition and fragments of some ancient religion. But everything turned out to be much simpler.

A magical marriage is needed to create a filter between the magical system of the mother and the fetus, so that the child does not receive necroenergy from the mother during gestation. Moreover, this filter only works if the mother has a lot of necroenergy. Merope convinced the Muggle to marry her with Imperius or a love spell. When she became pregnant, she had an "insight" that it was immoral. The drop in her necroenergy made it difficult for her to use magic and eventually caused her death.

Little Tom "inherited" a good chunk of necroenergy from his mother, which allowed him to master Dark Magic with greater ease, and he took the path of least resistance. Just think of his tricks in the orphanage: a hanged rabbit, resembling a budget version of the Imperius, and children writhing in pain, which is like a light version of Crucio.

Snape had something similar, only much weaker. When he was bullied by the Marauders as a child, he couldn't cope with either James or Black one-on-one without using "slightly unwanted magic." But, naturally, he always lost when faced with more than one. So he made a logical decision – he needed a new arsenal, which led to the creation of Sectumsempra, and he needed doping, which made him turn to potions.

What does this change? I don't want a competitor, even if it's my descendant. Moreover, what if the fetus takes too much necroenergy, and Bella might start thinking with her head, "Why does she love me?" So I need a magical marriage with Bellatrix.

I need to look at all the rituals, especially for mages without a source. One ritual—one brain. I need to decide which one will work for our case after some adjustments. But now I know another way to get rid of necroenergy: giving birth. Let's leave it as a last resort. It's much faster to dump necroenergy into the source, and from there—onto other connected ones.

The Death Arc has proven its usefulness: when you kill with it, there is no accumulation of necroenergy! Although, maybe it doesn't kill? The Unspeakables have a hundred volumes of theories about what it is, and a "portal to another world" is also present there. But I had to drag Pandora away from the Arch of Death, so it doesn't work with astral vision. That woman I tried astral vision on at the very beginning went into the arch but didn't come out.

I need to think about how to disguise the Arch of Death and how to convince Albus to switch to astral vision during the fight with me. I tried to figure out what exactly Albus hit me with last time and how. The puzzle spell was more or less clear. My brain will figure it out, although I doubt I'll be able to link more than a dozen identical spells.

"Magic tentacles"—let's try. If possible, it's worth modifying the Blood Whip or Invisible Whip into something.

I doubt there will be more than one tentacle, but this can be compensated for by adding more Dark Magic. But how to make a spell that ignores spells is a mystery. The only option is to disguise it well as a natural magical background because now my protection does not interfere with the replenishment of energy, which means it is not absolute. By the way, at the same time, I will think about absolute protection, but I must not forget about a way to remove it, even from the inside.

The creation of traps for Albus was proceeding on its own. It is very difficult to do everything unnoticed by the Ministry and at the same time in such a way as to seriously hope that Albus will die there. For these purposes, you need to be absolutely sure that no matter how many ordinary magicians come there, they will all die without reaching the goal, and that only a very strong magician will have a chance. The rest will be a burden to him on the way.

And you also need to provide for inhuman magic: house elves, goblins, vampires, centaurs, and so on. The Gaunt hut was turning into a place dangerous even for me. Knowing all its surprises and personally setting them, I would not have survived there for a minute. And then my body would have completely dissolved.

At the same time, the Gaunt hut did not emit magic from the outside, and it was useless to destroy it with Hellfire. I used something like Fidelius and Phase Shift, something similar to what the goblins did with their safes. If you want to get to the contents, go in, but it is pointless to take the door and the piece of rock where the safe should be.

If Albus went inside and hit me with something wide open, he would probably die before he could get to the Horcrux. He would have to curse his way to the box, which he couldn't take out, open it, and then destroy the Horcrux. I personally wouldn't have been able to do it myself if I had to rehide the Horcrux.

There was also a small guard of unsuccessful wizards in the room who now serve me after death. There was only one loophole left for a "special guardian" who had yet to be created. But I was especially proud of the Horcrux itself—the ring, a perfect goblin fake, imitating the Resurrection Stone. Making the Horcrux was tedious. First, I performed plastic surgery on the victim and erased his memory. Being invisible, I convinced him that he was Voldemort.

In a day and a half of hard work, he created the Horcrux. Then I erased his memory again to make sure. After that, I drove him crazy with potions and magic. I hope Dumbledore won't have time to notice the difference between him and me.

But the main thing is the charm I put on the ring before it became a Horcrux. Knowing the true story of Dumbledore and his sister, I cast a spell on the ring against goblins, putting some charms from the Mirror of Erised. Albus will really want to put on the ring, both under the influence of the ring itself and out of a desire to see his sister. Also, due to the fact that having collected all three Deathly Hallows, Albus will be able to easily get rid of me.

After all, Albus has the Elder Wand and, as I assume, the Cloak? So take the Resurrection Stone and rid the world of Voldemort. Don't be afraid, you will not die, because you will become the Lord of Death! And that the Peverell ring and the stone there are not real—you do not need to know. Touching this ring is a very bad idea. It is cursed.

Very high quality. In addition to the "Kiss of Death," I added a few more curses. The ring is coated with poison, an extremely invisible poison. But if this does not work, the Horcrux will be able to stand up for itself, especially when worn on a finger for protection.

And most importantly, if the old man survives, he will not understand anything—this is the case when the Mirror of Erised and the Resurrection Stone will show the same thing! Of course, I did not have enough skill to repeat the Mirror of Erised: eternal, taking energy from an unknown source, not causing physical harm to the user. My version is much simpler: a one-time operation showing your desire, while the energy is taken from you. Moreover, the energy is taken simultaneously, magical and vital, at an extortionate exponentially growing rate. I would have lasted for a few seconds...

With the cave of infernals, everything was simpler and more complicated at the same time. Simpler—no need to bother so much with secrecy; more complicated—too large an area. It's one thing to bewitch a few dozen cubic meters in a hut, and another to bewitch a huge cave. That's why I decided to focus on protection rather than curses. I'll need to add a couple more Dark Magic creatures to the infernals. Nessie will soon give birth, and I still have Horntail eggs...

But mostly, I'm hoping for the modified potion at the end. I also reworked the cave entrance system. I hope Albus will be surprised. But there's still a lot of work to do with this cache. Right now I'm going to do two things at once—get an eternal test subject and raise my authority among my people. The Lestranges, Crouch, and Malfoy have been invited to the demonstration, although this performance is mostly for him.

As a result of studying the Earth stolen from the Department of Mysteries, Lucius began to receive coordinates of territories that would be nice to buy from Muggles. Large deposits of ore and oil were easy to find. I'm really bothered by the fact that too much money goes through Lucius, but I've already found a way to further influence him.

He is invited to a demonstration of You-Know-Who's power. "Today you will see the power of Lord Voldemort! This Mudblood wizard will serve as the material for the demonstration," I said, pointing to the tied-up man under a row of silencing charms. Next to him stood a cauldron—a large cauldron with boiling potion.

At the same time, I will practice the resurrection technology. This is not just a man: under my pressure, he has already created a Horcrux, using a copy of Slytherin's locket as a vessel. And now he will die, and then I will resurrect him. Using Legilimency on him is useless; I have already erased his memory several times, and those present will not be able to remove this effect without me noticing.

"My faithful servants, check our victim," I ordered. The beams of scanning spells rested on the wizard. Soon a series of conclusions were ready: alive and almost healthy.

"Bella, inflict life-threatening injuries on the victim using Dark Magic," I asked. A wave of Bellatrix's wand, and the victim seemed to have been bathed in acid. All that was left of the target was a mutilated lump of flesh. Dead flesh. I was busy—people don't leave a grayish ghost after death, so I have to shove it into the spirit trap very quickly before it "embodies."

"Check the target. I need your conclusion." The answer was simultaneous: the target is dead. "Bella, throw Avada into the corpse, and then burn it completely." She did everything.

"And now behold the true power of the Lord of Fates!" I said as theatrically as possible.

I began to conjure. It took about half an hour. It's good that I threw the Crystal Ball into the cauldron in advance, which I turned into a spirit trap with runes—the deceased was quickly sucked into it. There are several possible options for resurrection, but I settled on the simplest one. The only thing was, it wasn't easy to get the ingredients right for the ritual.

"Father's bone, taken without consent," I said, and half of the skeleton flew into the cauldron. "Revive your son!" The sparkling silver surface of the potion hissed and burst, sparks flew everywhere, and the liquid in the cauldron turned poisonous blue. His father was alive—I had to kill him.

"Servant's flesh, taken under Imperius, revive your master," I threw the severed hand into the cauldron. The potion turned blood red. So far, everything is going according to the recipe. There were problems with the servant. I had to use the Muggle nanny he hired for the child.

"Enemy's blood, taken by force, revive your enemy!" I shouted again, watching the potion change color, turning poisonous green. The contents of the cauldron turned blindingly white. The main thing is not to make a fool of myself in front of witnesses; otherwise, it will be embarrassing.

The enemy's blood was bad. He had no enemies because he was a nobody. I wanted to use the blood of the woman he had divorced, but what kind of enemy was that? After all, a wizard, driven to extremes by torture, had killed a family of Muggles, leaving only the oldest man alive. It was his blood that I used now.

And now I was waving my wand over the cauldron. The main thing was to shut the victim's mouth and protect him from Legilimency right after the body was formed and before he climbed out of the cauldron. The skepticism of everyone except Bellatrix could be cut with a knife.

The potion began to evaporate quickly. The smoke formed a body right in the cauldron—an exact copy of the previous body of the magician, who immediately received Confundus from me. Only his reddish eyes needed to be covered with an illusion, and he could climb out of the cauldron.

"Behold the power of the Dark Lord! I have power over life and death!" I recited with the utmost pathos.

Now, admiring the extreme amazement of those present, I needed to explain to them that I was not going to resurrect their dead relatives yet and that they should not expose themselves during raids. This magician would still be useful to me. I'll try to pour as much necroenergy from the Princes' source into him as he can hold—he definitely won't die. I'll see what happens to him, and I'll have statistics.

Only before the experiment, I'll have to cut off everything that is not critical to life with dark magic and completely burn out all the magical channels and the core. I was home in two hours. Reports are evil; only Albus is worse. The war is going on as usual. The centaurs drove all the werewolves out of the Forbidden Forest. Somewhere, even my personal intervention is required.

I began to notice that my meetings with opponents, if it is not Moody or Albus, are turning into a routine. I approached a small group under disguise and killed everyone before they raised the alarm. The number of magicians I destroyed among the Aurors and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement while on duty has already exceeded three digits.

I was surprised to realize that the third Auror list is already fighting us— the Aurors of 1970 and 1983—these are different people.

Almost everyone, except for the most elite fighters and bureaucrats. Of course, some were brought back from retirement; a significant part of the rest are those whose relatives and friends died, as well as ideological volunteers from abroad. But if you believe the analytics, another two years at this pace—and those who are ready to defend magical England with weapons will simply disappear from me.

It is not for nothing that they are afraid to call me by name; the main thing is to survive these two years. But today is a special day for me. It is time to go to the modest house rented from Edward for the day—a wedding. Mine and Bellatrix's. Rodolphus gave her a divorce. A fairly simple mutual ritual with mutual bloodletting.

In her magical vision, the channel of replenishment from the Lestrange family disappeared. Then, for a couple of days, she drank my potions and Abidemi's tinctures, the smell of which made her eyes water. And then it was time for the ceremony I modified. Yes, that's right. The only way to cure her is to divorce her from Rodolphus and conduct our marriage in the right way.

The situation is complicated, however, by the fact that she and I do not have a source. Not all purebloods sit in a place of power, so I managed to find a suitable ritual and change it. In fact, a communication channel with the source is formed there, but it has zero throughput until you successfully attach yourself to some place of power.

I was really worried that I would now be married. As if I didn't have a child, I would also have a wife. Well, nothing would change in our relationship anyway. I didn't invite anyone to my extremely modest wedding except for the person conducting the ceremony, Barty Crouch Jr.

The Bond charms themselves were pretty standard, but then the problems would start. Bellatrix had already once, with her zeal, put such an effect on herself that I, using Pandora the Seer, the African shaman Abidemi, a divorce from Rodolphus, and several artifacts from the Department of Mysteries, barely figured out the situation.

The solution is simple—this time her consciousness should not participate in the ritual. But she won't be able to cast any spells while unconscious, so she will perform her marital duty today unconscious. It's all logical—she once made a Bond for herself, now I will make a Bond for her. Technically, I'll have to run the energy through her channels for her to ensure that her previous effect on herself doesn't conflict with the new one.

Luckily, I'm not wearing anything unusual, so the almost standard effect will do for me. But that's half the problem—my modified mating ritual cannot be interrupted until the consummation of the marriage is complete. Crouch looked like a house-elf when I told him what was required of him.

Bellatrix, for the first time in my memory, was against my decision, and I had to persuade her. In the end, I said that we needed another wizard who would stand aside and conduct the ceremony.

And that there were few candidates: one of the Lestranges, Elena, or Barty. Then she admitted that Barty was an excellent choice. Here is the first part of the ritual with words, wine, and blood completed. Bellatrix drinks a Fertility potion, which will ensure her conception, and then another one—a sleeping potion.

He looks at Crouch so that he involuntarily swallows and slowly sinks onto the bed I conjured. Under the mumbling and waving of the wand from Crouch, I begin to undress, freeing Bellatrix from her clothes. This will be the most original way of lifting the curse of all.

And now it's time for a fairy tale for adults: "The Dark Lord and the Sleeping Beauty, who wants a child from him." At first, everything went well. I began sexual intercourse with Bellatrix, monitoring the circulation of energy in her and my magical system. Everything went normally. Then I will climb into the memory of Pandora, who is watching this through the enchanted mirror, and see how it looked in the Astral.

But then problems began—I just could not cum. Apparently, a motionless doll does not attract me; it is too similar to necrophilia...

"Lord, should I go out?" Crouch Jr. asked politely after about five minutes.

"Stay where you are and do not stop the magic!" I ordered. Otherwise, it is unknown what will happen; I did not make calculations in case the ritual fails. But usually, there is an explosion. Although there is not much energy here, the explosion will be weak. But it may be enough for me.

Without interrupting the act and control of magical processes, I thought about what to do. Help myself with blood magic or call the house elf, ordering him to bring the exciter? No, you can ruin everything—here the calculation is only for me without any magic in the process.

Wake Bellatrix so that she moves and helps me? Also impossible: the scheme of the ritual is built on the assumption that there will be only one mind after the initial stage; she will simply ruin everything. There is only one thing left—to continue and think about why the process is dragging on. Soon it dawned on me: I should not have had sex with her every day; I should have at least taken a break from sex for a couple of days before the ritual.

But if this is forgivable, then the other mistake was more serious: I used my newly acquired metamorphism to work on prolonging the time of sexual intercourse! But this was assuming active actions of the partner, and now there are none! After about fifteen minutes, I was already really tired. The process evoked associations with sawing a log.

Then I wanted to spit and say that it was ejaculation. But you can't fool magic. You have to keep going...

It finally happened—it was the worst sex of my life. Zero pleasure, it was very hard to maintain arousal, thinking about how to fight off a possible explosion. And how to explain it to Bellatrix later.

"Darling, you understand, compared to Barty, you are not in the least bit rated!"

"It was all Albus who influenced you, right?"

"Master, are you all right?" Crouch asked.

"Yes. Thank you for your service. You are free," I answered him. Crouch began to bow and instantly disappeared.

I got dressed, cast a couple of spells for healthy sleep on Bellatrix, and ran to look through Pandora's memory. Aha, that same squiggle in the Astral that Carrow had. Bellatrix can probably be congratulated on a successful wedding and possible conception, although it is too early to talk about the latter.

Okay, let her sleep, and I will go on business.

"Darling, you understand, compared to Barty, you are not at all in the ratings!"

"It was all Albus who influenced you, right?"

"Master, are you all right?" Crouch asked.

"Yes. Thank you for your service. You are free," I answered him. Crouch began to bow and instantly disappeared.

I got dressed, cast a couple of spells for healthy sleep on Bellatrix, and ran to look through Pandora's memory. Aha, here is the same squiggle in the Astral that Carrow had.

Probably, Bellatrix can be congratulated on a successful wedding and probable conception, although it is too early to talk about the latter.

Okay, let her sleep, and I will go on business.

Barty Crouch Jr. POV

He had always considered himself a devoted follower of the Dark Lord, but witnessing the resurrection today shifted something deep within him. The sheer power displayed was awe-inspiring; the Dark Lord had not merely conjured an illusion but had given life back to a dead wizard, demonstrating an unfathomable mastery of magic. The room had been electric with anticipation as the lifeless form was transformed before their very eyes, not into a mere shadow or imitation but a complete revival—a body restored, a soul reawakened.

The implications of such a feat were monumental. Could it mean that anyone could return from death, provided the right circumstances? He imagined the long-lost wizards and witches of history stepping forth, their knowledge and power rekindled. Yet, he couldn't shake the sense that such abilities came with great cost and complexity. His mind raced with questions. What kind of preparation was required? How long must one wait after death? What secrets did the Dark Lord guard regarding this remarkable magic?

Then came the shock of the Dark Lord's announcement. In a moment that felt surreal, he learned that this immense power was being channeled into a far more personal endeavor: the Dark Lord was marrying Bellatrix Lestrange. The very thought left him reeling. He had always imagined the Dark Lord as an unyielding figure, focused solely on conquest and power, devoid of personal desires or attachments. But now, the image of the Dark Lord—a being of unimaginable strength—was complicated by the reality that he, too, had human needs and emotions. It was a revelation that shattered the rigid perception he had clung to, and he found himself struggling to reconcile the two worlds.

And they came to a logical conclusion—the organization is working successfully, everyone is coping, and there is no need for punishments. But what if everything is wrong? What if the Dark Lord just found himself a woman and became calmer?

Mulciber complained of phantom pains in his body a year ago, after he received several "Crucio" from the Lord. Was it really necessary to just give the Lord a woman? And why did he need to put Bellatrix to sleep?

Barty has only one idea—she is so untalented in bed that it is better this way. But the Lord deserves the best! He is obliged to help him! He must give the Dark Lord a good woman! Let it not be a wife, but a lover!

And he will start searching right now!