Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.
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The New Dark Lord
Chapter Four
On the harsh island of Azkaban, two insignificant wizards sat playing chess inside their watchtower. The cold was intense, made more so by the presence of Dementors, and so the wizards huddled up in thick jackets and clutched steaming mugs of coffee.
`I hate this place,' Hunter grumbled, moving a pawn.
His colleague Shawn sighed. `I know. You tell me all the time.'
`Can't you feel it?'
`What?' Shawn's voice was reluctant, not eager for another gloomy discussion with his friend. He captured a pawn and stared at the board, already planning his next move.
`Death. It lingers here.' Hunter shuddered. `I can feel it reaching for us. Can't you?'
`No, but I'm sane.'
`Very funny. Man, I swear, I think something bad is going to happen.'
`Something bad has happened,' Shawn argued, `we got assigned Azkaban duty for six months.'
`That wasn't my fault. I'm not the one put a sticking charm on Shacklebolt's toilet seat.'
`It was your idea,' Shawn pointed out.
`Nice defence.'
Shawn cornered his friends King. `Checkmate.'
`Wait, what?' Hunter studied the board, frowning.
`Face it, you suck.'
Hunter looked up at the door suddenly. `Did you hear that?'
`Oh what now? Trying to take attention away from the fact you lost? Again?'
`No, I swear, I heard something.' Hunter got slowly to his feet.
Shawn hung his head, ashamed for his friend. `There's nothing out there except those freaky Dementors.'
`But, I swear…'
Shawn heaved himself to his feet. `Fine. I'll prove it. Look,' he said, reaching for the door, `there's nothing,' he opened it, `out,' found himself staring down the end of a wand, `there,' he finished weakly, and then a flash of green light carried his soul through the Vale.
`Shawn!' Two Death Eaters stepped into the watchtower's small room. `No, you're… he's…' Hunter reached for his wand too late.
Another flash of green, and Azkaban was left unprotected, save by the fickle Dementors, who might already have aligned themselves with this New Dark Lord.
(----)
`What?' Gerwin Trent - the Minister for Magic - roared, leaping to his feet. His aide dropped a glass of water in alarm and it shattered at his feet. He quickly bent down to clean the mess; head low to seemingly hide his embarrassment. Gerwin paid him no mind.
`It happened late last night,' Shacklebolt said, `they're all free. Every single cell in Azkaban that held a Death Eater, and some that didn't, have been emptied. They're free.'
`But how? Why?' Gerwin ran a hand through his dark black hair. `It's been six years since Voldemort died. Since then, the remaining free Death Eaters have been nothing more than scavengers. Why this sudden bold move?'
`I don't know,' Shacklebolt replied, `but it's alarming, to say the least.'
`The Dementor's?' Gerwin didn't really need to ask.
`Deserted,' Shacklebolt admitted with a worried look, `and that alarms me more than anything. Dementor's wouldn't desert for just any rag tag band of Death Eaters. I doubt they'd do it for even the most senior Death Eater. They only did it for him.'
`You don't think?' Gerwin looked terrified at the very prospect Voldemort might be back.
`Who can say? All I can tell you is, after Potter killed him, I saw the body. He was dead. But… really… I don't know. Maybe it's someone else…'
Gerwin sat back, slumped in his chair and rubbing his forehead anxiously. `I never dreamed I'd have to deal with something like this. Assemble your men Shacklebolt. We've a Death Eater Hunt to arrange.'
`Yes Minister.'
Kingsley was at the door when Gerwin called out. `One last thing.'
`Yes?'
`Contact Draco Malfoy. Tell him to cut his holiday short. We need him.'
`And Potter?'
`Leave him be. I don't want to involve him if I don't have to. He deserves his peace. I won't break it if I don't need to.'
`Very well.'
(----)
On a hillside in Ottery St. Catchpole, not too far from the Burrow, there was a muffled crack, and then Ron appeared, his cloak buffeted by wind. He hunched in and ran for cover quickly, arriving at the home of Xenophilius Lovegood with relief. He shut the door of the large tower-home with a sigh and began to make his way up to the top floor - the official "office" of the Quibbler.
He found his fiancée (that always made him smile) hard at work with endearing concentration, one quill held in hand, scribbling away, the other between her teeth. He snuck up behind her and was about to lean down and kiss her cheek when she spoke through the quill: `Hewwo Wonald.'
He laughed. `Can't get anything by you, can I love?'
`Nwope.'
He waited for her to finish whatever she was doing. She scribbled a few more marks on the parchment and then put both quills down. Then he kissed her, passionately and enthusiastically. She returned everything he gave.
`Spare a few minutes?' Ron asked between kisses.
`For?'
`You know...'
`Only a few minutes?' Luna teased, raising an eyebrow.
`You know what I mean.'
`Mmm.' Kiss. `I do.' Kiss. `I think.' Kiss. `I can.' Kiss. `Spare some.' Kiss. `Time.'
Ron smiled. `Come `ere!' He picked her slight body up in his strong arms and sat her on the desk.
`Ooh!' Luna giggled. `Here?'
`Any reason why not?'
Luna mocked thought. `Nope, can't think of one.'
`Then one must not exist.' He gently pushed her back and climbed on top of her, bracing himself either side of her. She smiled up at him flirtatiously. He kissed her hard and mumbled into her mouth: `Love you, soon-to-be-wife.'
`Love you, soon-to-be-husband.'
They made love on the table, lifting up skirt, opening fly, all very practised and precise - like a form of art. Afterwards, Ron sat in Luna's discarded chair, her in his lap. She stroked along his arm, coming to rest at the artificial hand he had gotten to replace his lifeless, useless one. She held it tenderly.
`How long do you have?' Luna whispered.
`Not long enough,' Ron replied. `I have to be back at the office soon.' He looked at the clock on the wall. `Ten minutes.'
She moved to straddle him and looked deeply into his eyes. `Ten minutes. Okay. Let's make them ten minute you won't forget all day. You'll get the rest when you come home.'
`You think...' But Ron didn't get to finish. A squawk alerted them to the presence of an owl, which came flying in through an open window at the top of the tower to land on the desk before them.
`It's from the Ministry,' Ron said, reaching for it. Luna batted his hand down and got the latter attached to the owl's leg for him. He read it in silence, his eyes widening. Then he was moving, picking Luna up as if she weighed as much as a feather.
`Ronald, what is it?'
`Azkaban. Death Eaters. They're all free. I've got to go. Emergency meeting.'
Luna's eyes held worry, but her voice was understanding. `Go. Be safe.'
Ron stopped at the door. He rushed back to give her a long, reassuring kiss. `I'll be fine. We all will. Love you.'
Luna nodded. `Love you.'
Then he was gone.
(----)
The New Dark Lord, Amado Kelzer, looked down upon his subjects impassively. He was pleased. The raid had gone perfectly. No one had been expecting it. After six years of relative peace, the wizarding world had become lax. Breaking Azkaban had been too easy. Only now would it become more difficult.
Now he would have to rid the world of Harry Potter - perhaps the only person alive powerful enough to stop him - and the wizards and witches gathered before him would help him do that.
`I trust I do not have to prove myself to any of you,' Amado said calmly. `The very fact you are here, because of me, should tell you exactly who I am. I am your new Lord.' He stared the crowd down, daring anyone to question him.
`Who are you?' One so dared to ask.
Amado scrutinized the man. He was tall and balding, but his silver blonde hair still declared him a Malfoy. `Lucius Malfoy. Once a powerful wizard - now the shamed father of the Death Eaters greatest threat. Your son has made quite a name for himself. Are you proud?'
`My son is a coward and a weakling,' Lucius snapped.
`A coward and a weakling indeed,' Amado replied, a slightly mocking smile on his lips. `One who has maimed and tortured and imprisoned many Death Eaters. I hear he is even closing in on the record set by the legendary Mad Eye Moody - and in only a few short years.'
`You speak as if you admire him.'
`I admire anyone strong enough to perform such a feat, whether he be enemy or ally. Would I spare him if he were ever on the end of my wand? No. But that is beside the point. I think you would rather have that honour, no? And that is my point exactly. I have freed you. Now is your chance to strike back at those that have wronged you.'
Amado gazed into the back of the crowd, eyes searching for a particular figure. `Severus Snape,' he called, and the greasy head of the old Potion's Master rose to reveal a withered, sorry looking face. `Would you like that chance? All know how you lost your hand. Would you care for revenge? Do you hunger for the Weasley's blood?'
Snape clutched at his stump with his good hand, eyes lowering in anger and shame. That night still burned within him - every night he saw it and it tortured him.
`I give you all this chance. I am not your Lord Voldemort. I am better. I will not fall.'
There was a murmur in the crowd.
Amado pointed at Snape. `Come on up here Severus,' he said, `and I shall give you back what you have lost. I shall give you the means to exact your revenge. As I will all of you.'
`You're just a boy,' Lucius said viciously. `How dare you speak to us as if you're our better!'
`I am your better,' Amado said simply, `would you care for me to prove it? Sit down Lucius, or I shall have you cut of your own testicles and eat them.' Amado gave him a push, flooding Lucius with fear.
The elder Malfoy crumpled to the floor, gasping with eyes wide and terrified.
Severus Snape claimed the stage, walking hunched over like a beaten old man. Amado turned to face him. `Do you thirst for revenge?'
Snape nodded weakly.
`Then I will give you what you need to enact it.' Amado raised his wand and pointed it at the stub of Snape's hand. Snape cried out, staring at his stump, as it grew and morphed and twisted itself into a hand - a hand made entirely of metal. Snape flexed his fingers. A smirk twisted his beaten face into an evil mask.
`Are you satisfied?'
`Yes…' Snape looked up at Amado. `My Lord.' And then bowed his head.
`One more thing you will need.' And Amado presented him with a new wand - his old one lost over six years ago.
Snape took it reverently. `Yes… thank you…'
`All of you,' Amado addressed the crowd of hungry Death Eaters, `can have this. Whatever you need for your vengeance, you will have it. I am going to succeed where your Lord Voldemort failed. Do you believe me?' Amado turned to Snape. `Do you believe me?' Snape met his eyes. `Yes, my Lord. I believe you.'
And while the Death Eaters enacted their revenge, he would use them for his own gains. He would become Ruler of the wizarding world. He would bring the world down under a blanket of fear - and make it safe.
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