Chapter 2
January 1995
The six men stood in their Death Eater Cloaks, the masks nearby but not on for the casting of the ritual.
The diary was placed on the pillar that had been used for the Malfoy family’s rituals for over six centuries. Four young muggles bound by Crabbe.
“A drop of both of their blood.”
“An Avada to each of them.”
“And a spell.”
He cast both the Greek and Latin components.
A sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle appeared by the pillar.
“I suppose introductions are in order, My Lord. I am Thomas Nott, son of Theodosius Nott.”
“Barty Crouch Jr.”
“Johnathan Crabbe.”
“Alexander Avery, son of Alku.”
“Severus Snape.”
“Lucius Malfoy, son of Abraxas.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintances. Well, why don’t you catch me up? I have missed at least forty years.”
- --
“Besides the child that killed me, is there anyone else to worry about?” he asked, disgusted at the weak man who had died while carrying on his legacy. He saw that Lucius Malfoy had frozen for a moment, barely perceptible, he might not have noticed himself, but it was there.
“If you had to name someone,” he added.
“Dumbledore is still an issue, my Lord,” Avery pointed out.
“And the rest of you? Tell me what you have been up to these years.”
Crouch had enthused about all he had done to show his loyalty and his great sacrifice in Azkaban for their Lord. As Nott started, however, the pain he had been experiencing since the ritual increased tenfold and he was brought to his knees. “Malfoy… tell me…about… the pro-...cedure,” he managed to get out between breaths.
“It uses a horcrux and using sacrifices makes the proportion of a soul needed. Since you had five horcruxes we used four sacrifices.”
“Seven … part … soul” he managed before passing out from the pain.
- - -
“What does this mean, Malfoy?” Crabbe asked. Everyone from before was present except for Severus who had left to brew the temporary solution.
“He has a little less than ninety-five percent of a soul.”
“Well he only had a fraction of that in 1981,” Avery argued.
“The process of making a horcrux is different for the person than the object. It keeps the remaining soul into the correct shape. Imagine the soul is a circle, making a horcrux would take the amount of soul that equals one half from the outside, leaving the intact circular soul. Now, he has a soul that is circular but is missing a sliver of it,” Malfoy explained as quickly as he could.
“Would making a new horcrux fix it?” Crouch asked.
“No, making a horcrux takes half of the shape that is there,” Nott explained.
“I am not sure if he will ever be able to make one again. Soul magic changes it in a way,” he added.
“What’s the solution?” Crouch asked.
“He will have to perform a ritual connecting his soul to another. There are two ways of going about it. Both involve tying his soul to another.”
“What is the difference between them? Explain Malfoy!” Crouch demanded.
“The first is a closer bond, he would take some of the soul from someone who already has a different soul shape. The other would have a piece of soul rotating between the two. The first is a stronger emotional connection while the second is a need to be physically closer.”
“So who are we going to bond to the Dark Lord?” Avery asked.
“I volunteer,” Crouch offered enthusiastically.
“They are both forms of marriage bonds,” Lucius added.
“Bellatrix?” Crabbe offered.
“She is married already,” he interjected.
“Killing Rodolphus wouldn’t be too difficult,” Avery claimed.
“Perhaps not, but she would only be able to do the second type which is more dangerous.”
“How would we find someone with additional soul?” Nott questioned. “How rare is it?”
“Fairly rare, but it won’t be hard to find.”
“How is that? Just spit it out, Malfoy,” Crabbe was becoming impatient, they all were.
“Muggleborns. It’s something about how they get their magic. The creation of a magic soul without the parents passing it along makes it considerably larger.”
“So a few purebloods die, it’s a worthy sacrifice for the life of our Lord,” Crouch argued.
“What is the success rate?” Nott asked.
“Five to ten percent.”
Severus walked into the drawing-room they had been having this discussion in, “The Dark Lord is awake.”
All of them entered the room that the Dark Lord was staying in. Crouch explained the situation as he understood it.
“A muggleborn, that works perfectly.”
“I’m sorry, my Lord?” he questioned. All of them were a bit surprised. Not even Severus could contain all of his surprise.
“Who would believe that Lord Voldemort had returned if I was seen with a muggleborn?” the Dark Lord responded.
“Don’t we want them to know that you have returned?” Crabbe asked.
“No, that would be one of the worst things we could do. Why did you follow me? I want each of you to answer this question. Was it for blood supremacy or for power?”
“For power, my Lord,” was said by all of them. He knew that not all of them had meant it though, he certainly had. His father might have initially wanted blood supremacy, but he passed on an obsession with control that Lucius craved.
“Malfoy, I’d like you to find me the best muggleborn to be my wife.”
“I am honored, my Lord.”
“If you ask Malfoy, you’re going to end up with the Granger girl,” Avery scoffed.
“She’s far too young for our Lord, isn’t she?” Crabbe asked.
“How young is this girl?” the Dark Lord asked.
“Fifteen,” he answered.
“So she would be your recommendation?” the Dark Lord asked him directly.
“She was the first person who came to mind,” he admitted.
“Seeing as I am technically sixteen, she’s not too young. I’ll need some evidence, especially if the rest of you disagree. Or is it only Avery that has doubts?”
“That depends on what you are looking for, my Lord,” Severus reasoned.
“The best: someone who understands the necessity to do terrible things and the enjoyment of the bad things themselves. She needs to be loyal, the bond won’t work otherwise.”
“Granger would be acceptable,” Severus offered.
An owl flew to him, he hadn’t gotten a letter from Granger since October so he supposed it was time. He wasn’t sure if he should curse her for her timing or praise her.
“Who is it from?” Nott asked.
“Speak of a witch and she shall appear, in one form or another.”
“Granger–may I?” the Dark Lord gave his hand asking for the owl. He handed it over of course.
“You correspond with her?” Crouch asked in disgust.
“Not irregularly, she’s quite the interesting witch.”
- - -
Dear Lord Malfoy,
I only plan on reminding you of our first correspondence due to my suspicions of Crouch’s role in the Triwizard Tournament. I will not allow my brother to suffer due to his unintentional role in Voldemort’s downfall. If Harry is harmed in a half-baked plot to resurrect a symbol who, despite striking fear in the wizarding world, is more obvious than I am at the moment. If you were going to bring him back, at least bring back the deviously charming snake that might be wary of the threats of the evolving muggle world. You already have blood supremacy, so you gain control over us muggleborns, what then? By then, other wizarding governments will be out for you. I probably shouldn’t be making such assumptions of the plans of Death Eaters, or your role in them, but I do implore you to rethink them. While the Wizarding world does not currently revere Harry as much as they usually do, once there is a sign that Voldemort has returned, the obsession will return. No one wants that, let him be a child, not a martyr.
A concerned sister,
Hermione Granger
Attached was a muggle photograph of a glass jar containing an insect with the caption, Rita Skeeter after her lies in The Prophet
“Have you kept her letters?” he eventually asked Malfoy.
“I have.”
“Would you fetch them for me?”
“Of course, my Lord.”
He liked this girl so far, she was passionate and obviously loyal. Those things could not be taught, and he could break through her childish arrogance and build powerful confidence with little effort.
“In the meantime, Crouch, what are you doing for the Triwizard Tournament?”
“I wasn’t aware that you knew about the Triwizard Tournament, my Lord.”
He lifted the letter in response. “So, what’s your plan?”
“The last event is a hunt to reach the Triwizard Cup, it is a portkey. We planned on using his blood to remove your connection to one another. You would then be able to kill him.”
“I can’t hurt him at the moment? Can he harm me?”
“You cannot physically hurt him, we believe it is reciprocal but don’t have as much evidence as we would like,” Nott explained.
“That will work well.”
“I am honored that you like my plan, my Lord,” Crouch beamed at the praise, it was quite off-putting.
“Not exactly what I meant. Harry is Hermione’s sister, she believes that I seek to harm him. If she knows that I do not wish to make it possible to hurt him, it could endear her to me slightly. How much can we impact the final task?”
“Ludo Bagman is in charge of it, my father is supervising,” Crouch informed.
“Certainly you could imperius Bagman?”
“Of course, my Lord!”
“Good, allow each competitor to pick a teammate from outside of the competition.”
“May I go work on planning this now, my Lord?”
“You may, but remember the plan is for Harry to choose Hermione.”
Crouch left.
“Is it safe to assume, my Lord, that our strategies are shifting from our earlier days?” Nott asked.
“Yes, a rebranding is definitely in order. Instead of Death Eaters, I think I might bring back the Knights of Walpurgis.”