[A few days after aquiring a Pet.]
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Being in the dungeons, I'll probably never wake up to the morning sunlight, but what I do get is a little earthquake as the giant Octopod decides to shift from its sleeping spot. In my earlier days, I relied on a muggle clock, but nowadays, I'm roused by Reek.
Slowly stirring from my slumber, I look around, momentarily disoriented as my peaceful sleep is abruptly interrupted by the unexpected sensation of something small scurrying across my chest.
With a start, I jolt awake to find my new pet rat, Reek, perched at the end of my bed, his tiny whiskers twitching with fear and hidden anger.
'Little fucker! I know he's afraid of getting shocked,' I think, amused.
Despite the sudden awakening, I couldn't help but try to recall the content of my dream. I know it's a vain endeavor to remember a dream after being woken up, but I felt like my dream was amazing.
*Sigh*
"I really want to remember what I dreamt about! This feeling is so damn annoying," I conclude after several minutes of futile effort.
I'm sure it was something about big bubble butts and titties because I'M POPPING ONE MAJOR HARD-ON.
Meanwhile, Reek looks afraid and unnerved by the expression on my face. I've had him locked up inside this room for the past few days to train him, and it's been going perfectly.
At first, we had some communication problems due to me being human and him being a stupid bitch, but we got past that pretty quickly once I made it clear that I'm one petty asshole.
Eventually, I got him to eat leftovers, bring me my shoes and socks, jump through magically conjured hoops, and even massage my toes.
With an evil grin, I scoop him up by his tail and place him on my table, promising to give him extra attention later in the day. This just makes him shiver even more.
I dress myself impeccably as usual and make my way out of my room, while my robes billow behind me, giving me a dramatic flair.
As I enter the common room of Slytherin, I am greeted by the familiar sights, smells, and sounds of my surroundings. For some odd reason I find the place quite nice even though its is ibjectively shitty designed. The cold ambiance of the common room never fails to provide a sense of making one feel insignificant, with how obscenely big it is, and how cold and empty it feels, and the faint scent of stale water lingering in the air just adds that little bit of extra.
As I passed through the room, my gaze falls upon a few people I recognised such as Regulus Black, his Fiancé whose name I always forget, and three young woman who no doubt are the Black Sisters. They're seated amidst a group of what will be the future DeathEaters, and Malfoy is pompously cocking his head around.
[A/N: Add the chicks name here, if you still remember it. I should really write a character sheet.]
'Bunch of idiots!' I curse mentally.
See, I am not against this whole let's kill the muggle and muggle-borns stick, or let's enslave the muggles because I am an asshole.
I, myself, have over the past few months flooded the world with drugs, and funny enough business is booming because the more I deliver for my customers the higher their demands get, and the more they trust me.
This, in turn, creates a vicious cycle. Because they make more profit, they reinvest more into their operations to increase and acquire more, all in order to have more merchandise that they need to get transported. And I transport, well, technically my now approximately 200 people handle the transportation. But that is one and the same at this point.
The world is being flooded by my drugs, and now everyone everywhere has to deal with the consequences such as higher crime rates, more people prone to drug-induced violence, and finally, more prostitutes on the streets, selling their bodies cheaply for money that they spend on cheap drugs.
'It is so damn amusing! The cherry on top is that even the Goblins are unnerved!' I think, amused when I remember the news in the Daily Prophet about how the Goblins are complaining to the Wizengamot about Muggle children spending way more money this year.
Also, Gramps has started acquiring shops in other nations for us to set up more information centers all around the magical world. This will help me funnel more money into the system, creating deflation in Muggle Britain and inflation in magical Britain.
Anyway, considering all of this, I'm not in a position to judge people for being assholes, and so I won't. After all, whether it's Moldy, me, or Gandalf, we all have personal agendas that drive us.
But what I do find idiotic is that these people are so clueless about everything and anything, yet want to join a cause that is destined to screw them all over.
These morons have way too many problems, but the foremost one is that they're being coddled by their government and not being told the whole truth about the scope of the world.
They think the Muggles are easily defeated opponents, that the vampires are just a bunch of weaklings they can get rid of at any time, and that the Church is finished after all these years.
See, I get why Gandalf tries what he does; he wants the magical world to fall into obscurity and be forgotten because we have been too high-profile during the last war.
But I am assuming that Moldy does not give any fucks about Gandalf's plans. Assuming he succeeds in taking over Britain, he'll militarize the whole nation, go on to take over all of the magical world, step-by-step, and eventually bring some sort of fascistic unity.
Building himself an empire that may be able to take on all other groups' combined forces, and as he is semi-immortal, he will be safe from any attempts on his life.
This is one pretty solid plan, if you ask me, but the problem is that I and the rest of the people will lose our standing in society and our value as people.
Because no one will ever replace Riddle as the Fuhrer, and this means we'll at most be expendable minions for him.
And this is the problem that these morons don't get! As purebloods with ancient heritage, they're basically rushing to see who gets himself enslaved and branded first.
Absolutely shocking that the lack of common sense can be so dangerous!
The Blacks appear to be engaged in a heated debate with the others in their group, their voices rising and falling in one passionate argument after another. I can't help but pause for a moment, taking in the scent of Narcissa. I am intrigued by the intensity of their discussion and want to know what it's all about, but I stop myself.
I don't want any of their drama for now! Let them deal with their own nonsense, and I'll intervene when it's time to change some plot-relevant events.
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