To be honest, we overdid it with the potion for werewolves. Wizards-werewolves and non-wizard werewolves from neighboring countries flooded us. And while we anticipated this, the sheer number was clearly excessive, more than the pace at which we could produce the potion. Although most of the foreign werewolves were detained, imprisoned, or deported by the Ministry, some still managed to reach us.
They were then sorted by their level of value. The most desirable were experienced wizards who had been bitten at a mature age. Next came wizards, ranked by decreasing magical qualifications. Then came the untrained wizard-werewolves. At the end of the line were werewolves from Muggles, incapable of casting spells. We sought to find work that suited everyone. In addition to fighters, we needed suppliers, codebreakers, zookeepers for manticores, crabs, and other monsters. Messengers, ingredient gatherers, spies, laboratory cleaners. Even loaders—werewolves could carry a lot with zero magical costs.
Unfortunately, the potion was not enough—more than three hundred arrived each month. Therefore, the drug was primarily given to the most promising employees, although some was distributed by lot to maintain excitement. Dolokhov, after receiving a couple of Cruciatus curses, agreed to train two squads of wizard-werewolves. Ollivander was stamping wands like a conveyor belt. Werewolves who had yet to receive the potion were settled separately from the wizards in northern England in sparsely populated areas covered by some magical protection. However, periodically, someone among them would fly into a rage, and the number of Muggles in the vicinity would diminish a bit. Moreover, English Muggle newspapers were in an uproar—wolves had been exterminated in England a long time ago, yet bodies with bite marks were still found. They should better monitor the import of large dogs!
I pondered. With the exception of a few dozen werewolves who had been experienced wizards before their transformation (mercenaries or government forces), the combat value of the wizard reinforcements was low. The rest had neither experience nor strength. Sending them into battle in droves was pointless. They needed magical support. And I couldn't provide that for all of them.
Putting werewolves in animal form, covered by magical protection, in a formation with Death Eater wizards? The idea was good. But, first of all, I needed to use werewolves healed from madness. And those were currently wizards who had a decent mastery of their wands. It would be simpler to use golems. Secondly, the Death Eaters treated golems better than they did werewolves. No, they weren't deliberately killed, but they certainly didn't go out of their way to avoid hitting their own while performing area attacks. Or they used werewolves as lockpicks.
— Go run over there! — commanded a Death Eater.
The werewolf ran to comply and upon returning asked what was next.
— I told you, there are no magical mines there! — said the Death Eater to his fellow Death Eater.
Since I didn't want my servants to kill each other, it was decided to form squads separately from werewolves and wizards. The wizard-werewolves in human form would cover the Muggle-werewolves in animal form.
The bottleneck of this plan was the number of trained werewolf wizards at an acceptable level. There were two options to resolve this.
The first was to train the most promising werewolves. For that, we needed calm and five years' time.
The second option was more interesting. To make the werewolves stronger as wizards.
From a classical standpoint, it is impossible to make a wizard stronger. But if you think about it?
As I established, Dark Magic is stronger the greater the volume of necromantic energy. Especially spells like Cruciatus and Antipatronus. Therefore, it was necessary to select candidates for the permanent use of Cruciatus on victims. This is long and too demasking.
But it is quite feasible to enhance someone's Dark Magic. At the same time, I would prepare wizards as materials for horcruxes for Albus.
As far as I understood, for Dark Magic, the volume of necromantic energy is essential, and for creating a horcrux—something like pressure of necromantic energy. If you draw an analogy, in the first case, we have a barrel of water, and the more water, the better. And for creating a horcrux, we insert a long vertical tube into the barrel, and with a very small amount of water, we make it burst. Therefore, if we don't use the ritual of creating a horcrux, we shouldn't fear the emergence of dozens of immortal competitors with spontaneous horcruxes.
But this is long and too demasking. Moreover, it means the actual start of a new project when dozens of others are unfinished.
However, a solution was found.
Under the Muggle cottage settlement of Lestrange, we began to create a large cave. The idea was simple—among the prisoners were those who were expendable, and I tried to connect them to the source of the Princes. And immediately stored them in an unconscious state. Ideally, they should draw necromantic energy from the source—then I would obtain a source free from necromantic energy. If everything works out, I'll repeat this with the Slytherin source for myself.
Moreover, there is a secondary goal. I need to try to drain so much necromantic energy into a wizard that he becomes competent at the level of Bellatrix and becomes a strong Dark Wizard. But without writhing in pain and hearing whispers in his head. And at that moment, sever him from the source, obtaining a being that apparated with splinters, a possessor of the Corporeal Patronus. However, since apparition is not Dark Magic, he will still apparate with splinters.
The only problem was the too high mortality rate when connecting and disconnecting from the source (every third wizard survived connecting to the source and every third upon disconnection), and this is considering that I smeared them with Severus's homunculus ointment before the connection ritual. And if this is acceptable for research on death row inmates, then for strengthening my fighters, even if they are not the most valuable, this is not the best idea. I have already tried everything I knew. At least I didn't accumulate necromantic energy—after all, I didn't kill them, they died from the consequences of the failed ritual, which they conducted under a powerful Confundus charm. The method clearly needs calibration. My only hope is that I can pull something from the Department of Mysteries that will help me solve this problem.
I also tried to connect a Muggle and a Squib to the magical source. I hoped that they would become wizards. The Muggle died immediately. The Squib survived, but I noticed no difference in him. And I still needed to find a normal source and practice marriage and divorces (under the analogues of Imperio and Cruciatus) before arranging Bellatrix's divorce from Rudolfus...
So the plans for stamping Dark Wizards from werewolves are postponed until I visit the Department of Mysteries.
For now, I once again laid out the ritual scheme on the floor of the great hall of the Lestranges, through which I want to go myself in the near future. The scheme was the size of the entire floor and written in tiny handwriting and tiny symbols. I will need to take the brains from the Department of Mysteries and let them check this scheme. And I will pay them for this with the Fourth Unforgivable.
I will have blood kin—Bellatrix will make an effort or someone else. There is no rush; I'll just finish the other preparations in time—I have a ton of preparatory work; I think I'll manage within a year; you can't conduct such a ritual on the fly. And blood and other things are needed only at the very end.
I doubt that even one wizard has thought to attach an echo of someone else's necromantic energy to himself to become a stronger Dark Wizard. But isn't water in the dam what allows Muggles to have a television working at home? It's clear that the analogy is not proof, but I rely not on analogy but on the obtained crooked connections of the volume of necromantic energy and a series of Dark Spells, on the connection of the soul and, as I now understand, necromantic energy when creating a horcrux in the ritual.
The second goal of the ritual was even more ambitious and even less realistic: if Bellatrix and Crouch really love me, will their love allow me to work with Light Magic in any way? "The blood of those who love you." Or maybe it's worth becoming a rock star, gathering stadiums of a hundred thousand, and screaming: "I need your love!" We'll see, we'll see... For some reason, my imagination drew only one picture: "I don't see your hands!"— mocked Voldemort at a concert for the aurors—disabled.
But there was one ingredient that troubled me. Something related to the traitor. I have already researched three dozen traitors—wizards and Muggles, bribed aurors, defecting Death Eaters, Muggles in prison. No one fit.
How simple it was with this ingredient—a hand of a hanged man. Just signal the servants, and they hang the captive. A minute later, the hand of the hanged man is ready. Although, next time, I need to order them to search the morgue for suicides...
I regretted immensely that Pettigrew had already been killed. Perhaps he would meet the requirements of the ritual? After all, he is an
epic traitor—he betrayed the Order, Lily, James, Sirius, Lupin...
But it was pointless to grieve. After thinking, I decided to check on Snape—he is also a traitor. He first betrayed me and then Dumbledore. Perhaps he would fit?
The next day, I met with Snape during our classes on homunculi.
To be honest, I didn't like Snape very much.
No, from a "teacher-student" relationship standpoint, he was perfect, infinitely better than Lily. Diligent. Polite. Patient. He wasn't squeamish at all, whether it was dried slugs, human eyes, or more disgusting ingredients for homunculi. Moreover, when he knew for sure that the ingredients were non-toxic, he could work without protective gear and gloves—any slaughterhouse would envy him.
And since homunculi are somewhat akin to potion-making—filling flasks with processed ingredients—he quickly achieved results in homunculus production.
I also taught Snape several high-damage spells, for that unlikely case that Albus might suddenly be lying at his feet, injured, unconscious, and wandless. Then he would be able to kill him.
Snape wasn't friends with brooms. After expending inhuman amounts of effort, he learned to sit decently on a broomstick, but compared to James Potter, he flew poorly. Perhaps that was why he jumped at the chance to learn to fly without a broom. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't manage that yet. He could only fly by partially transforming his body. So, the students who called him "bat" weren't entirely wrong.
Tom's memory demanded that I kill Snape in the most brutal way for betraying and managing to deceive someone who considered himself the best Legilimens in the world.
My mind also craved Snape's death—it was so unusual to see someone who could feed you any misinformation. Despite my training with the mirror of Erised, I was still far from this. I constantly wanted to eliminate the unnecessary unknown variable in my plans.
But had I lived without Legilimency before? Moreover, he shouldn't risk his Lily. And his own life too.
And now, after the lesson, Snape lay unconscious, and I waved my wand over him, checking if he would be suitable for the ritual. Before me was another traitor, but for the ritual, he wasn't suitable. I was in a dilemma—if I don't find a suitable one within a week, I'll order all the traitors they find to be brought to me for checking...
Then I brought Snape back to consciousness. First, I worked with his oaths. Then I talked about his espionage activities and sent him to Dumbledore. He didn't ask any questions—neither what have you done to me, nor why. But still, one had to be very careful with this fellow.
Soon, I was home again, stroking Nagini. She could at least lay an unfertilized egg—no, nothing. Well, at least we got rid of Fawkes.
Then Bellatrix came to see me. She was babbling about Neville. I nodded in the right places. Then she brought the Memory Pool. I looked at it out of politeness.
Neville had a spontaneous magic outburst. He tossed some seeds into a bath of water, cast a spell, and the seeds immediately sprouted. If Petunia Dursley's son looked like a little ball, Neville looked like a bullmastiff—big and wrinkly.
Then Bellatrix apologized and ran off to "conduct self-defense courses" for Narcissa. I was pleased to hear that Narcissa was pregnant. (She got knocked up quickly. Probably a potion. And they have good early diagnostics.) I must remember—children and relatives are a remedy for Bellatrix's excessive attention.
Lucius Malfoy paid me, or rather Elena, everything he owed and a bit more. Except for the time-turner, but he said he would get that too.
It seems I overdid it with the Malfoys that day. I felt like Dumbledore—it was all for your own good. And they didn't appreciate it...
I wondered who else could be checked for my ritual? Where else could I find a traitor? After thinking, I gave my house-elf some sleeping potion.
By evening, I was already standing over sleeping Lily. After all, she betrayed the Order of the Phoenix, didn't she? She did. Let's see if this traitor is of any use.
Then the wandplay began. I needed to take readings from Lily and compare them with the required values. To check if they would fit the ritual. After half an hour, I was forced to admit—the results looked promising. An hour later, I realized—I had found something. Now the question is, what have I found?
Some part of Lily should be used in the ritual. Which one? How offended would Snape and she herself be? It's one thing if it's nails, another if it's a nose.
I waved my wand along her body. Soon I realized—the signal intensified around her head. This is bad; I hope I don't need her brain. Maybe hair?
After even more careful examination, I received the maximum response from the area of her eyes.
Eyes are bad; no wonder Snape liked them. But where does it say that I need to extract them with Dark Magic? It's a simple operation, eye transplantation. The only thing is, it's better not to use a Muggle's eye for the transplant, or there will be problems if she tries to develop magical vision.
Tom Riddle's memory demanded that I grab a ritual dagger and start gutting, but I decided to check a few more times, increasing the detail of the spell.
Soon the answer was ready—I needed tears. Lily, you have no idea how lucky you are tonight.
I conjured a bit of special gas that causes tearing. I filled a small vial.
That will do for now. Although, what if she needs to cry herself? Alright, in the next Occlumency classes, I'll bring her to tears: I'll break through her Occlumency and show her memories of happy childhood with her sister and how they parted. The death of her parents. The death of James. Then, casually, I'll offer a handkerchief... And then I'll compare the two samples of tears.
Soon, I was already making adjustments to the ritual scheme and the borrowed book from the Lestranges.
The quill moved magically and wrote in handwriting that was not mine.
— Ingredient number 287/03/DR-14. Tears of an involuntary traitor.
POV Rabastan Lestrange
Rabastan Lestrange was satisfied with life. Until the moment he became the keeper of Fidelius for one of the former Lestrange houses.
After that, his life changed drastically. He had to learn everything. Absolutely everything. And no one freed him from his duties as a Death Eater. So, half the night, he threw himself at Aurors and Muggles from the Dark Sphere, and the other half, he did homework. And he had already graduated from Hogwarts! He really wanted to ask the Lord for a time-turner, but Rabastan was still holding on.
But it wasn't just about learning. He was required to use this knowledge! Nessie, how much is in that word... And not only in the word. The Lord is busy; who will feed Nessie? Rabastan. And the fact that this creature has already eaten two house-elves who used to feed it—nobody cares. After all, the little snake is clever—she doesn't touch people, but everything else... Nagini, for example, teleporting straight from her mouth. However, after that, the Lord used a charm on Nessie, and she calmed down a bit.
Whenever something needs to be built, they call Rabastan again. Wave a wand and a house appears? That's possible only if you're Merlin. Rabastan can't manage such a volume of transfiguration. But even if he could conjure a house like that, it would collapse. He needed to check what soils were there, determine their mechanical properties, choose the foundation depth, drill the ground for the piles, dump stolen—no, I mean, bought cement from Muggles into it, mix it properly with water and sand to obtain concrete of the necessary strength... So he felt like a crew of Muggle builders.
He tried to tell the Lord that a swamp unknown where is a bad place for a house (and that piles should be laid deeply, which would increase earthworks and concrete volume), but the Lord didn't listen to him.
Why does a Dark Lord need a two-story house measuring 10x10 meters? That's small! Although that's good, less work. He could still understand why a separate ritual hall of 1000 square meters was needed nearby. After all, we're not blood traitors to live in a house without a ritual hall. He could understand why all of this needed to be enclosed in protection and bound with Fidelius to his father.
But there was something he didn't understand. Why did they dig a cave under the Muggle cottage settlement? Why did they equip it with air regeneration systems to house wizards? And why was he making exactly the same cave under this house?