11th December 1993.
Sirius had gone shopping with Narcissa to find gifts to give Harry for
Christmas, under a magical disguise, of course.
Ares was in the dungeons below the Manor, hidden from any prying eyes; he had thirteen muggleborn in his cells.
The Hit wizards would not speak of their contract to anyone, guaranteed by their magical warranty.
He would begin his experiments today.
Walking into the first cell, he looked at the young man in his late twenties, of Asian origin, from Hong Kong. He had the most developed magical core.
Bringing his head up to meet his eyes, he invaded the man's mind.
He was not trying to be delicate; instead, he ripped through all the many memories, eradicating most of them.
When he was done, he was sweating; all the man had left was his knowledge of magic.
He lost all emotion on his face, and his eyes glazed over, showing that the young man had lost all free will.
Next, Ares began planting suggestions into the man's mind: obedience, loyalty, and fanaticism.
Then he bound their magic to his subservience with an incredible effort of willpower; it was effectively like forcing the man into a magical contract of slavery.
Next, he had the man sign a magical contract, ultimately binding him to servitude.
The muggleborn man was now utterly subservient to Ares and could be trusted entirely.
"Your name will be Basilisk 1. My first and most loyal lieutenant."
The man stood up, his body exerting itself.
"I live to destroy our enemies!" He declared.
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2 hours later...
After Ares recovered from using so much magic and managed to shower, he brought Basilisk 1 up to the ritual chamber.
The man right now was merely an incredibly loyal and reasonably powerful wizard. However, after Ares performed several rituals on Basilisk 1, the man would be far more than that.
Gathering the necessary ingredients, he had his newest servant stand in the Pentagon and began chanting while going through the process.
An hour later...
Basilisk 1 now had an impressive healing factor as well as increased senses. Over the next week, Ares would do several rituals that would increase his servant's magical core, the concentration of power in each spell and increased strength. He would do this for all of his thirteen minions, but Basilisk 1 would be given a special gift.
A ritual that would increase his fire magic resistance to incredible heights and another to give him mastery over flames.
Basilisk 1 would be the first man-made elemental in a century, the last natural one having died in the late nineteenth century.
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13th December 1993. Hogwarts.
Albus was delightfully surprised to find Lord Peverell waiting for him in his office.
"How can I help you, Lord Peverell? Are you here to sample the fine Hogwarts cuisine? Or perhaps for a report on your son's education?" He asked, eyes twinkling.
"Albus, please! Call me Ares; you are older than I am. I am here to ask a favour, one that I hope you will agree to," Ares said with a sincere tone.
Albus looked him up and down and couldn't help but smile amicably, eyes at full twinkle.
"Of course, Ares, if it is in my power, I promise to try in the spirit of Christmas." Albus felt it was only fair to help the man after he had gotten rid of the dementors.
Ares immediately held his hands up in peace,
"It's nothing too hard! I just wondered if you have any spare Phoenix feathers and if you could give these gifts to their owners." Ares said, rubbing the back of his head in fake embarrassment.
Dumbledore nodded happily. Many people wanted phoenix feathers as they were gorgeous and fabulous gifts for Christmas. The Christmas gifts for his students didn't require a favour as he was always glad to help bring happiness to people.
"That seems fair, I have been meaning to express my gratitude over you getting rid of the Dementors, and I feel this is a perfect way. Fawkes should be fine. Do you have a preference for how many feathers you want?" he asked.
"Nine would be appreciated. Lots of gifts to make, my son as well. I completely trust your ability to give him the direction he needs. He struggled to connect with people after his mother's death." Ares asked, seemingly expressing his concerns.
Ares then unshrank the packages he had in his pocket before placing them on the desk.
One was a Firebolt from Sirius, who thought it would look less suspicious if Ares gave it, and the three others were from Ares as himself and his son.
Narcissa had picked the third one.
As if an afterthought, Ares took out a final package from his robes and gave it to Dumbledore.
"For you, Albus, I was given advice by several people that this was what you would like," Ares said happily.
Dumbledore couldn't help himself; he looked giddy as if aware the package contained socks.
"Thank you! I'll get the feathers now." Albus said, eager to place the present under his personal tree.
Opening the desk drawer, he pulled out a handful of the feathers, counting them.
"That's nine!"
After wishing him a merry Christmas, Ares thanked him and flooed away.