Chereads / Lord Voldemort SI / Chapter 29 - Chapter 29: Last Preparations and a Horntail

Chapter 29 - Chapter 29: Last Preparations and a Horntail

The preparations for the removal of Crouch were nearing completion.

What did I hope to achieve? Crouch fired from his post, and it must look like Dumbledore attempted an armed coup while I rushed to my servant's aid. This would simultaneously smear my opponents, increase chaos and allow me to legally free my people who were incarcerated on Crouch's words alone. And my stunt would prove I still outclassed "Elena." I must occasionally be seen in the limelight…

What to do with Crouch Sr? Riddle's memories encouraged killing everyone. But he could be of use alive. I was just thinking about the ingredients for the "Flesh, bone, blood" ritual. Blood of the enemy… Moody or Dumbledore.. Either one was a pipe dream. On the other hand, Crouch Sr. was a perfectly reachable and worthy enemy.

Crouch's wife… I did not know much about her magic skills, but I'll find a use for her as well. Try to convert her. Or marry her off to a neutral family like the Greengrasses or Bullstrodes. Or have her teach at Hogwarts after the victory and McGonagall's tragic accident. I was not a idiot to leave Dumbledore's team in charge of Dumbledore's sympathizers. It would only result in a revolt. And while Death Eaters had many merits, I would not entrust them someone else's children, especially children of questionable blood status.

Persuading her will not be difficult: I saved you in exchange for your husband saving Elena. Your grieving son became a Death Eater to avenge his father's death. It was all about the right delivery. None of that "join or die." Your entire family supported me all along, they lied to you for your own safety… You are against me? No problem. Go slice your son's throat and surrender to Azkaban- you reek of more Dark magic than any live bomb. I prepared her healing ritual in two locations for that very reason. If Albus should, by some fluke, refuse to fight Crouch, a Dark ritual under the manor would provoke them into action.

I had more than sufficient means to achieve these goals.

The soldiers and golems stood at the ready, and the acromantulas made a welcome addition.

Nessie turned out to be very malicious, moving must have affected her badly. I only just managed to calm my snake down and convince her to settle in the pond. She has been nagging me about wanting to kill someone. Entirely too aggressive… Or was it instincts driving her to hunt? In any case, she will join the assault. She should make a fine "Slytherin's monster" on the battlefield. I only had to find a way to protect her eyes and stone…

Project "Ariana" ended in a partial success: the finally arisen snake in a girl's body may not have access to magic, but it could transform into a cloud and crush targets as ordered. Nothing tactically sophisticated, just a metaphorical cudgel to break the enemy defense line. Rookwood and I recorded all of the cloud's parameters, such as the charge of its magic field, the rotation of energy flow, the gradient of dispersion… Maybe one day it could be made into a spell.

The only question that bothered me was Albus's neutralization. While Macnair's team deals with the phoenix and the rest of my army trashes the Orderers and Crouch's operatives, I must keep the old man busy.

Plan A was a mental battle. I had no delusions of winning. I planned to show him nightmares and emphasize the similarities between us to stall for time. It would be great if we snatched Aberforth- he must have some choice memories of his brother.. Most importantly, I must keep the old man out of my own secrets. But my recent sessions with the Mirror of Erised proved I already learned to perfectly change some details with Snape's method. I should be able to localize the failure (if it indeed happened) and shift the accents to change the meaning of the memory to its complete opposite.

And then there was plan B: fighting Dumbledore with all I had, playing on the defensive. He won't notice my weakened Dark magic. This fight would be nothing like Diagon: I knew the place, I knew the time… Some Dark rituals could grant a tremendous short-term advantage if you knew exactly what you need and when… Gather a large pool of power and let it out at the right moment. Of course, there was the question of price… But who said you must always pay it yourself? Some of the sacrifices would go towards temporary enhancement, the rest towards neutralizing and minimizing the rebound. Not many rituals allowed it, but preparing in advance gave me the luxury of being picky. In the end, I should at the very least match the original Lord's Dark Magic.

I found an assistant: Rosier. He was already walking on his own and using bits of magic here and there with completely functional arms, though the burn on his right will never fade. He got off too easy. Not yet fit for the battlefield, but he was more than capable of helping me conduct rituals and prepare the sacrifices under my supervision. If Rosier managed to enter the duel under several rituals, he could definitely give me a boost without needing to disguise it. By the way, I better pick up some more artifacts… And potions, only this time not combine everything under the sun.

A little bit of pain motivated Ollivander to create a fake shell for my wand with Nagini's scale. It now resembled a human fibula. It will last through the fight, and not even Moody's eye would see Elena's wand inside. And Albus would assume I was on a quest for a better wand.

But there was one task I had to do all on my own: bathe in the blood of a dragon I killed in a fair fight…

A bribe to the head manager of the Romanian dragon preserve convinced him that one of their Hungarian Horntails never existed. He offered to gift-wrap and deliver it anywhere we wished, but I insisted on a one to one fight right there in Romania. The manager wisely decided that for that much money we were free to do anything we wanted. He warned that he bears no responsibility for the wounds we were bound to receive and scheduled us a date with the dragon.

I took half a dozen of the Inner Circle to Romania by portkey. Our escort pointed out the dragon from afar and scurried away.

It was time. The Death Eaters stepped aside and began covering the area with charms. Their only task was to prevent anyone from interfering with my fight.

No, I was not coming down with an acute case of chivalry. The best defensive effects required a "fair fight". Seven on one was not fair, one on one was. I needed the full protective qualities of dragon blood to fight Albus… Between a fair fight against a Horntail and a fair fight against Albus, I would choose the Horntail any day, without a moment's hesitation.

I left the Death Eaters behind. A concealment ward rose up and was softly glowing in magical sight. The manager vowed he made the area maximally unnoticeable, but one could never be too invisible…

On the cliff ahead sat the Horntail. Big money - big dragon. It looked like a massive black lizard with yellow eyes, reddish-brown spikes on its head and tail. Twenty meters long not counting the tail… The largest and most dangerous European breed. Aggressive. Could spit ordinary fire or charmed fire at will. Ate any meat it could catch, including humans. And it was sitting on a nest formed by a dent in the rock.

If anyone told me two months ago I would voluntarily face off against a dragon, I would have laughed to myself.

I saw a myriad of ways this fight could go.

Sadly, the Unforgivables won't help. They affected people and creatures whose energy system at least somewhat resembled human.

Transfiguration. I was not Albus, and it was far from my specialty, but I could easily transfigure myself into something quick and agile. Transfiguring a dragon was impossible. Well, technically possible, but if would take multiple Merlins for a beast this large and saturated with magic. Unfortunately, self-transfiguration did not count as "fair." And neither did potions. After some thinking, I decided to limit myself to a wand and self-enhancement charms that did not change the body: acceleration and improved perception.

I could use something highly lethal like Fiendfyre, Twilight Flame or Well of Darkness… And dump in extra energy to be sure… But there won't be anything left of the dragon, and I came here for trophies.

Despite their might, dragons were susceptible to some simple sleeping charms. Dragon tamers typically used five-six simultaneous attacks to knock out their charges. I could replace five or six dragon tamers on my own and knew the spells. Then the patient would never wake up from anesthesia. The problem was, killing a sleeping enemy was hardly "fair."

Personally, I would have gone with cursing the eyes and cutting or burning the wings, then simply staying outside its range of attack: spells against claws, horns and fire. Whenever the beast lost its strength, finish it off with a couple of Dragonhunter's spears or something similar. Victory would be in my pocket with no more risk than executing a tied up prisoner… Except, it would not be fair.

Fair meant approaching it head on and deflecting the flames and tail… And a highly magical creature would damage my defensive charms with every hit, if not completely go through them. Therefore, I duplicated all the charms and did not intend to relax my guard.

I requested a female: larger body meant more blood. The dragon watched me from a hundred yards away and did not attack. It was sitting on eggs. They will be very useful, I just recently talked to Macnair about breeding experimental chimeras… Taking the eggs would anger it. Let's consider it a challenge to a duel.

I raised my wand. Summoning charms may not work on dragon eggs, but they were sitting atop a mundane rock. The eggs fell through a tunnel that appeared under the nest. I covered them with dirt like a second shell and used a summoning charm on that. All five eggs obediently flew to me though the tunnel and disappeared in an expanded container. Be proud, mother dragon: your children will serve the Dark Lord. Though I cannot guarantee they will be the same species after we are done with them.

The dragon roared, spread its wings and charged straight at me.

Since we were having a fair fight, I decided to let it have the first blow. I simply stood my ground under the strongest shields I knew.

The multiton beast crossed the distance in a blink and crashed against my barrier. The barrier held up, only sparked pitifully. The dragon started blowing out flames at me from less than ten feet away. The power it took must have been enormous, the flame rivaled Fiendfyre. But my charms endured.

It was my turn to attack. The beast voluntarily gave me an opening, standing there open-mouthed: the scales inside were much weaker.

Pouring in an excess of energy, I sent two Dragonhunter's Spears into its mouth. A top-notch throw- the spells flew in a an arc. One pierced the palate, struck the brain and flew out through the top of the head. The other spear hit lower, shattering the spine just under the skull. They were instantly followed by wandless Twilight Flame. A splotch of concentrated charmed fire entered the skull and instantly burned out the brain.

That single moment cost me a third of reserve. A wandless Twilight Flame alone was an exorbitant level, and I cast it while simultaneously throwing two spears and holding off dragon fire…

I wish the beast could die this easily. But dragons were ideal politicians: they did not really need a brain to function. In addition to a central brain in the skull, they had a highly developed spinal cord as a backup. Losing either one was not critical. Yes, dragons were incredibly durable. If you cut off its head, it may not notice right away. Like a cockroach.

The dragon wheezed, shut its mouth and jumped back. It took losing the brain for the beast to understand that opening its mouth was a bad idea. It charged at me again, this time with claws. I should have dodged them with banal levitation. But we were having a fair fight…

It squeezed me in a vice grip, the claws damaging some of my shields. Magic was rapidly depleting. It brought back the memories of getting crushed by dirt during the French base assault. This time was worse.

I counterattacked with a ramming charm at the dragon's chest. It would have had no effect, but I also conjured ice under its feet. The dragon lost its hold and spun like a top. A Dark cutting curse that followed left its wings hanging like dead rags.

I hoped the animal would go into shock from the pain. But it not only pulled itself up, it also managed to hit me with the horned tail. A number of my shields dissipated, and I flew backwards like a kicked ball. I landed with the shock absorbing charm, fighting the urge to fly up and finish the creature off. I had to keep giving it chances to attack.

Without destroying the dragon's entire body, only damaging its heart guaranteed death. Unfortunately, its heart sat deep within the body under effectively unbreakable bone plates. The only access point was the main artery, but even it was hidden behind several feet of muscle.

I could destroy its senses. But first of all, how fair was that? And seconds, dragons sensed magic with some unknown mechanism. It would sense me as long as it lived.

I could vanish the air around it, but a dragon would survive without air long enough to continue the fight.

I could resort to blood magic, but I really hated the process of acquiring the main ingredient and being unable to block the pain… Apparently it was time to grit my teeth and do it…

A cut on my left arm sprung up a blood wall in front of me not a moment too soon. I hoped the Horntail would meet the same fate as a car in a crash test. Fate had other plans. The dragon indeed crashed into my shield at full speed, but the blood spikes caused it no harm. It actually looked like the impact popped its spinal brains back in place.

After a second of stupor, the dragon remembered it too had magic. It again breathed out a jet of flame at me point-blank. But unlike last time, this much more potent flame vaporized most of the ground below me and threatened to destroy my defenses.

Trying to cut off its head was futile. Even if I somehow succeeded in cutting through layers of tough skin, muscle and bone, the dragon would continue hitting me with claws. And breaking its spine would mean torturing a paralyzed patient instead of winning a fair fight.

But there was always one last universal solution: an attack from the inside. The dragon now had enough wounds for me to reach its bloodstream.

Tom had plenty of experience wrangling his own and enemy Fiendfyre. With a monumental effort, I redirected the dragon's fire to the side. It was my turn to attack. A modified blood spell forced several cups of my blood into the wounds on its head and chest. And the rest was simple: blood was magic, and own blood could be controlled even in a dragon's body. At least if you were a Dark Lord.

My blood rushed through all of the beast's veins at mad speed. Regardless of their might, dragons were living creatures whose life followed laws of nature. Rupturing its organs would waste valuable trophies, so I found an even simpler solution: my blood cut the vessels from the inside. Yes, dragons were extraordinary resilient. But when all its vessels burst in under two seconds and the organs began to asphyxiate without blood… It remained the same heavily armed tank, only without ammunition, fuel or crew.

The flames died first. Then the nostrils stopped blowing smoke. The beast slammed into my blood shield in one last desperate attack and fell on its side with glazed eyes. In magical sight, the glow around it began to dull. And the best part was that nearly all its blood remained inside the body cavity.

After making sure the dragon was dead, I signaled my Death Eaters to come.

"Your skill is truly great, my Lord," Amicus Carrow groveled. "If you allow, we will show the memories of your fight to new recruits. I'm certain your reputation will rise sky high."

Yes, killing a dragon alone was impressive. Especially while purposefully allowing it to land hits. It would be best if no one saw the part where it launched me into the air with its tail… Although, we could use it to promote Dark magic: as soon as the Lord used blood magic, the dragon fell dead at his feet. The key was not being a Dark Lord, the key was blood magic. Join our ranks, and you can do the same!

"Later," I answered. "Start unpacking the golems and butchering the body. It should yield around 300 liters of blood, and one human only needs two to three per application. I believe we will soon hear rumors that the Inner Circle is invincible."

I was in no position to lose soldiers and would generously share. Dumbledore was in for a surprise.

They will manage the butchering without me and bring it to England in chunks. Every single part of a dragon was valuable. I was mostly interested in the blood and skeleton. I'd rather avoid fighting personally, and an undead dragon would be a great way to bolster my forces. Creatures lost their magic in death, but I was not in a rush. At worst, I would wait until I acquired the memories of an expert necromancy consultant- Grindelwald.

My servants started skinning the dragon, and I returned to the Lestranges. I had to catch up on paperwork. The latest newspaper read:

Head of Magical Games and Sports Mysteriously Murdered

Benedict Formann, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, passed away on January 27th from unknown causes. No official statement has been released, but the investigators suspect an novel curse. On the last day of his life, the victim was haunted by extreme bad luck. In the morning, Mr. Formann received a package with experimental fireworks. The explosion left him with extensive burns. The colleague who helped Mr. Formann put out the fire accidentally splashed him with boiling water, exacerbating his injuries. Mr. Formann was taken to St. Mungo's, where healers quickly returned him to health. On Mr. Formann's trip back to his office, a loose brick from the floo fell on his head. The minor concussion was treated with first aid, and Mr. Formann went back to work. Later that day, he went to testify in the case of the quidditch team accused of severe breach of the Statute and broke his leg on the way to the courtroom. After a mediwizard healed the fracture, Mr. Formann was sent home where he died shortly thereafter. The Ministry announced his successor to be Ludo Bagman…"

Wonderful, absolutely wonderful. Bagman had as much brains as a bludger. He will eat out of the hand of his father's friend Rookwood. And any test would prove Ludo Bagman was not a Death Eater. Using people in the dark was so appealing… The Department of Games and Sports was no DMLE, but it still meant international contacts, public events, prospective leads…

Benedict Formann has been running from death for a long time. The solution turned out unprecedentedly simple. All we had to do was drug him with Felix Felicis. He defended against poisons extremely well, but the luck potion completely bypassed his system of identifying harmful substances. Of course, the potion did not kill him. He had done it himself.

Benedict did not discriminate by blood status and was a good employee. He only had one vice: gambling. Everyone looked the other way because he gambled with his own money and on his own time. When bets involved large sums, the participants were checked for Felix Felicis, usually with an advance vow. After work, he went to the goblins to bet. And died soon after. Almost certainly from breaking a vow.

The beauty lied in the fact that we sent the Aurors on a false trail. They were now searching for a new fancy curse or multiple cases of sabotage. A delivery mix-up caused an explosion? The Death Eaters did it. Another employee burned him with boiling water? Must be a Death Eater. A brick fell on his head? The Death Eaters built in traps, check all fireplaces right away. Broke his leg on a staircase? Cursed staircase, check every step in the building. In reality, Felix Felicis was simply trying to stop him from betting that day. But Benedict was too stubborn…

I put away the newspaper and invited in Severus, who just arrived.

"It is time for you to go Dumbledore. Do you remember what you must tell him?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Do you want to ask me something?"

"My Lord… Lately… "Elena" has changed. She is becoming much better at certain magic types. I can barely block her Sectusempras. Some spells she used to cast without problems stopped working for her. She spends inordinate amount of time in the Lestranges' library researching something. Some of those books… they contain very dangerous knowledge. And Edward watches her with a strange look. He asked Rabastan his opinion on blondes. Also, Malfoy asked me to pass a letter to Elena. Here it is. I have not opened it and do not know what this is about."

Very interesting. The Lestranges were searching for a woman to add to the family? Despite all the advantages of Elena's image, no family would want someone whose loyalty belonged solely to the Lord. But for the Lestranges, it was a benefit. Edward or Rabastan? A woman with high potential matched either one, no wonder Severus looked nervous. And the Lestranges needed an heir…

"I don't plan on marrying her off to anyone. She can decide what to do with her personal life on her own."

I still felt nothing, but Snape must have calmed down. How I hated that my legilimency was powerless against him… Hopefully, he had no idea. And Dumbledore won't be able to unmask him, either.

Once diagnostic charms showed Malfoy's letter was clean, I opened and read it. In short: let's meet and discuss a business opportunity. Some vague hints about a job. Knowing Lucius, it was really business and not a thinly veiled date invitation. An I would have to waste my own time on this… Lily would surely blurt out something stupid, letting Malfoy catch her on a contradiction. Fine. Hopefully he will propose an assassination contract or human trafficking. Because if he offers sex, he would get a Crucio.

"Lucius is offering some sort of joint business venture. Most likely illegal trade or assassinating competition. I will keep you updated."

As if I did not have enough problems without dealing with this Romeo…

Lily had to be looking for information on horcruxes. I've scoured through the entire library, and the Lestranges never hid anything from me. There was nothing to find. Tom thought himself smarter than everyone else, but I accepted that someone might have books on horcruxes. Who? The most obvious option was Dumbledore. There used to be a book in the Restricted Section, and now it was gone. The old man must have confiscated or destroyed it. Second option: the Blacks. They were indisputably the darkest family in England. Beyond that… I did not know. Maybe I should check Rosier? There may be more to his mass sacrifice hobby and volunteering as a camp gauleiter than met the eye. Although, he could not have fathered children with a horcrux… But I will find a way to test him.

Funny how things turned out: Lily was reading very illegal books to understand what we dug up at the cemetery. Or to catch me on a lie. She was still far from accepting Dark magic, but the first steps had been made. This, along with the Diagon fight, also explained Bellatrix's latest studying craze. Knowing she had no way to dispose of the new "competition" without provoking my… displeasure, Bella dived into books and training with fervor bordering on mania… Little did she know Lily would never hold a candle to her. In the end, everyone was busy training and reading good literature without needing to be ordered. I wish it was always like this…

"I am concerned with her interest in Dark magic," Severus continued. "I have been practicing since Hogwarts and always had friends to spot me if anything went wrong. She might accidentally do something dangerous. I learned that the blood whip has a habit of choking its caster if the spell is performed incorrectly."

"Supervise her training, then. Think of a way to excuse your absences before Dumbledore. When you are not present, have her stick with Protego and stunners."

"My Lord, is it true that Dumbledore has the Elder Wand?"

"I have no direct evidence. He was searching for it in his youth and befriended Grindelwald, who was doing the same. Grindelwald had always been powerful, but he only started a war when he came in possession of a wand that looked identical to the one Dumbledore uses now. Dumbledore has a wand that looks just like Grindelwald's, and it was first seen in his hand right after he defeated Grindelwald. Be very careful, Severus."

"My Lord… Does the Order of Death really exist?"

"Again, I don't have any direct evidence. But Flamel acquired his Stone at the exact time millions of Europeans died from the Black Death. His goals and ideals are unknown, how he and Dumbledore met is a mystery. And look through these documents."

A wave of my hand sent papers flying out of the desk.

"Dumbledore's father was sentenced to a life in Azkaban. During his trial, he ranted that he hated all muggles. Dumbledore's mother and sister both died young, and there was no postmortem exam performed on either. His mother was killed by an unknown Dark curse and his sister by Avada Kedavra. No one was punished. At the funeral, Aberforth broke Dumbledore's nose, screaming "it is all your fault!" Immediately after Ariana's death, Grindelwald left and started avoiding Dumbledore like the plague," I recited, levitating a pensieve and vials with witness memories towards Snape. "Watch this, Severus. This does not look like a Light wizard."

Severus watched the memories and returned from the pensieve silent. No lies. Deceive yourself all on your own. Hopefully, it gave him a lot to contemplate.

"May leave for Hogwarts now, my Lord?"

"Of course. You only need traces of my displeasure with your failure to heal Elena. Crucio!"

After Severus stumbled off, I worked a bit and went home.

"Welcome back, Master. Gaby cooked you dinner and will take off your boots."

I sat in an armchair, rolled down my defenses and watched the house elf work. He levitated me to the dining room with the chair and landed it in front of the table.

"Master, is Gaby allowed to speak freely?"

"Yes, speak…" I answered without looking away from the dinner.

Shut the elf up? What's the point? This way I always knew what they were thinking because they just said it out loud.

"Gaby really wants to tend to Master's children," the house elf declared.

Some request! I have completely spoiled them. If he said that to Tom, he would already be screaming under Cruciatus. No one orders Lord Voldemort!

I probably had something of him in me. But not his hubris. If I must kill for immortality, I would kill. Though I would prefer picking flowers- they multiplied faster and did not defend themselves. If I had to kill house elves- I would kill house elves. Using house elves as sacrifice was a waste: no ritual specifically required them, and muggles were more numerous and efficient. Killing house elves did not grant you their abilities. In any scenario, house elves were more useful alive than dead.

I could torture the house elf or keep him under Imperius. But why kick a mule when it was ready to give its best for a carrot?

The end goal was for no one to consider me a Dark Lord. It won't work with this generation, but I did not plan on dying. For now, I could use the practice. Refine a method for converting muggleborns on Lily. Convince my house elf I was a good guy.

Did it make sense to bother with a house elf? Tom's memories categorically said no. I disagreed: he got the Hufflepuff Cup thanks to an elf! Tony and Gaby did not cost me anything, and they have been incredibly useful. They stole Lily's old wand (I told her the wand burned in her subconsciousness when we were removing her compulsions, and she believed me). They knocked Lily out and helped transport her to Gringotts, dug up Dumbledore's relatives… Gaby taught me household charms, took care of my house and my "horcruxes" the few times I left them here, took care of Nagini, killed two wizards when we were procuring Lily's wand. They pulled me out of Mungo's after the battle in Diagon. They knew the secret of the Dark Lord's student and were searching for the Tonkses…

If anything, they were honorary Death Eaters, the most trusted of them all! More useful than half of the Inner Circle!

I would not get far trying to gather recruits with cries of "Grindelwald was too kind! Bring back concentration camps! Let necromancers take the streets! Oh, how I love the smell of burning flesh in the morning! Torture and kill indiscriminately, our own people included! Choose sacrifices through lottery and rid England of unlucky losers!"

It would be almost as stupid as greeting a date with "I'm horny, you happened to come by. Let's fuck?" The correct approach is "you are special."

Many would follow me for a promise of longevity- no one liked the idea of dying. And sacrifices… We are actively searching for ways to substitute sheep for humans. This is temporary. Our goal is long, healthy life for everyone. Are you saying you are against medicine?

Why Crucio a house elf? To what end? So he spits in my soup? So I have to constantly keep him under Imperius? Yes, the elf could not disobey my direct orders. But there was quite a gap between an order and its fulfillment. Say, I told him to go to the Lestranges. And he walked there on foot. Sure, I would kill him for it later, but the order has already been failed.

Following this path, it would be all too easy to end up like Xerxies I, who ordered his soldiers to whip the sea to punish it for destroying his bridge…

Torturing everyone is not power. It is thuggery. Power is having everyone believe you act in their interests. And for that, they fulfill your requests… I would promise everyone their dream. Harry's life to Lily. Lily's life to Severus. Searching for the Sorcerer's Stone and exterminating degenerates to the Death Eaters. A home and a family to serve to every house elf. A pond and food to Nessie. A better Hogwarts curriculum to mudbloods, I mean muggleborns. More magic! Ball lightnings in class! Tales of bloody battles in History of Magic, make the class feel like going to the movies! Faster quidditch brooms, introduce competitive broom racing! Rights and freedoms for werewolves. Hunting grounds and safety from the Aurors for acromantulas. Expanded diet for dementors.

Whereas in reality, I amass power for myself and my army.

Of course, I would not get far without torture and killing. But punishment and reward must match the deed. My people must know the rules of the game, know what is expected of them.

I will keep in mind that if I ever had children, I could dump them on the house elf.

"I am too busy to deal with women. I met one today… Looked like a Horntail."

"Why, that ugly?" the house elf bulged his eyes.

"No."

"That big?"

"No. It was just a Horntail."