Lord Voldemort SI

If speaking with everyone else was going to take as much time as it did with Malfoy… I drank a potion of accelerated magic regeneration. At least I could use this as a recovery break. It was hardly a potion to be taken regularly… No matter, I'll rest more later.

I took out Malfoy's briefcase with financial reports. Numbers, formulas, calculations. To a layman this would look like jumbled garbage. Even my magically enhanced mind struggled to comprehended it.

Rookwood waked into my study. He was middle aged, tall, wrinkled and scarred from a disease, with greying dark hair. Riddle's memory prompted that he was a calm, well-adjusted man. Cunning and slippery, with a true gift of persuasion. Aside from being a "scientist," he stood just below Bellatrix and Dolohov in dark and battle magic. His explosive curses were notoriously powerful.

I put the reports back.

"My Lord, what is your will?"

"Report on what I ordered you."

In magical vision, before me stood a powerful wizard with unusual amulets. Less than Malfoy wore and none decorated with gemstones. I had no time or desire to spend an hour on legilimency for each servant. Riddle's memory of previous sessions said Rookwood was loyal. He was dissatisfied with ever expanding bans on magic that reached even the Unspeakables. He served Riddle to save knowledge from oblivion and magic from stagnation.

"My Lord, recruitment at the Department of Mysteries is problematic and carrying items out is close to impossible, but I was able to copy the blueprints of several innovations, including…"

He began explaining the advantages of refined spells over the standard ones… It took focus to think over his words, like listening to theoretical physics in a foreign language.

"… therefore, rotating the wrist in type 14 spiral motion will reduce the expended energy by 0.4%, which, when used in any ritual with double Ignis, will allow us to…"

This method was not necessarily better, just different… Since type 14 rotation would require either a trigger word or increasing the complexity of the spell pattern… Ok, stop. My thoughts were getting off track. There will be plenty of time to delve into science once I win the war.

"I must interrupt you, Augustus. I remember the information from your last report. I had some ideas about how we can use it. The Department of Mysteries stores prophecies, correct? I need you to bring me one."

Severus only told me the first part. What if the end said that I will die if I don't adopt Harry Potter? Or that he will grow up, seduce Bellatrix, and I will die from a broken heart?

Prophecies… Vague probabilities… Both Tom and I viewed them with disdain. Tom studied divination after Hogwarts. For two weeks. It was the only time he ever killed a teacher before finishing his studies.

"My Lord, there is a truly enormous number of prophecies stored in the Hall. Their veracity has never been proven. There is also the hypothesis of self-fulfillment: simply believing in a prophecy causes people to act in the predicted manner. For instance, in the fourteenth century…"

Ignore the prophecy? It made sense. But my predecessor already got entangled with it. Lily and Harry were living in my house. If it included a line like "and an otherworldly soul shall make the Hero's mother a Death Eater," it would certainly be an argument to its credibility.

Riddle acted like a Gryffindor, attacking the Potters so soon. And alone with no support. What if the baby had powers? Or a specific power against Riddle? Or instead of a quiet muggle cottage he was greeted with traps, squads upon squads of Aurors, Albus and Moody? He should have sent servants. If the recon party killed the Potters - problem solved. If the Potters defeated them - I would know the enemy's power. In any scenario, the initiative was on my side, so I needn't risk my own behind.

Although… what if Harry was my son, I vowed to protect him and then got selective amnesia? No, impossible: no one with horcruxes could procreate. Why did I have to deal with this stupid circus? When I become Minister, I'll have all prophets executed!

"Augustus, just bring me the prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney, heard by Albus Dumbledore in Hog's Head in January 1980, mentioning me and one other person."

"My Lord, only those named in the prophecy can take it off the shelf. Anyone else would go insane"

Riddle didn't know that part… Would I really have to go to the Ministry myself?

"What about under the Imperius? Then insanity would be no impediment."

"No, my Lord. Not even standing next to the puppet and casting the Imperius before and after he touched the prophecy."

"Catch it from the falling shelf? Straight into a bag? Or have an animated object take it? Have it eaten by an animal? Brought to me with the shelf?"

"No, my Lord. Everything is accounted for. I can find the right prophecy, but you must pick it up personally. Or find the other party and make them do it."

Now this was very bad. I really didn't want to stick my neck out so soon. Force Harry or Neville? They were not even two years old! Though if they drank an aging potion and went under the Imperius… No, that's idiotic. They would still have baby minds and never make it. Would I really have to go myself?

"Think, Rookwood. If you can't come up with a solution, we will prepare two plans: my stealthy infiltration and a raid. In case of the raid, we need to cause massive damage and take everything not nailed to the floor. Then rip off and take the rest."

"Yes, my Lord."

"I am also concerned about Time-Turners. Can we steal them? Or even better, destroy? Is it possible to go back in time by any other means?"

"My Lord, I am against destroying Time-Turners! Time is an incredibly fascinating research subject. Time turners cannot be used against you by changing the past: recall the Eloise Mintuble case. Despite their seeming potential, time-turners are only used for mundane purposes: work, reading, extra sleep."

My itch to torture came back in full force. But Rookwood could not be Crucio'd. They had daily checkups at the Department of Mysteries, and the evidence that he's been tortured, especially with the Cruciatus, would be noticed right away. Followed by interrogation and blown cover.

"Then we will steal them. And you will be free to research them. In a hidden, warded room."

Of course not. The time turners will be destroyed in an accident. Together with him. Otherwise, what if some desperate soul went back and killed Riddle at the orphanage? Would I never exist in this world?

"This is acceptable, my Lord."

"Now tell me about the Veil."

"The Veil of Death is located in the Death Chamber. The hypotheses are that it is a death curse stretched and suspended in space-time, a portal to the afterlife or another world, or a molecular fission anomaly. In the past it was used for disposal of artifacts and executing prisoners. Very convenient: nothing thrown through it ever comes back."

"I need diagnostic rituals. Every one you can find. Also, identification charms for body, energy field and soul."

"My Lord, do you want to send a ghost through the Veil? We already tried, but perhaps conducting parallel diagnostics…"

I didn't. I wanted to check my diary with new methods from the Unspeakables. But he did not need to know. I would let him believe I wanted to test the Veil, then use rituals developed for one artifact with an aura of death on another one. It might work.

"And time travel without a Time-Turner?"

"Absolutely impossible. As someone travels through time, the object propelling them experiences the effects of the time stream: ages for centuries in exchange for seconds of the person's displacement back in time. Time-turners are made from "ageless" extraterrestrial material found in some meteorites; it is the only material capable of withstanding the time stream. All attempts to use time-altering charms or potions resulted in ancient corpses traveling back in time because the subject and the object were one and the same."

Then this was not a threat.

"You told me about a "brain room," where you keep brains in an aquarium. As I understand, this is an attempt to develop artificial intelligence? Can these brains be used for spell and ritual calculations?"

"This is precisely the reason they were developed, my Lord. But so far we have been unable to get them to work. The brains behave like aquarium goldfish, even though all diagnostics show they are intelligent."

"Have you tried the Cruciatus?"

"No, my Lord, they are too valuable… Perhaps we should, on a single specimen…"

"Rookwood, what can you tell me about the Space Chamber?"

"It was created in response to the muggle space program. The idea is extreme long-distance apparation to other planets with no ambient magic from the sources. It is still in early stages."

"The models are three-dimensional, correct? Can we use the Earth model for espionage? Or finding unowned magic sources?"

"The models were created for measuring interplanetary distances… It should be possible to get some information about the planet surface, but I'm not certain about magic sources…"

"Try it. Anything else of substance to report, Rookwood?"

"Not exactly, my Lord. But I have a contact in the Department of Magic Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman. He unknowingly provides me with information that can be useful for terrorist acts. Do you want me to give it to our operatives?"

"Can we put him in the Head chair of his department? How much influence do you have over him?"

"He is an idiot, but people love him. Quidditch fan. But the current Head will not vacate the seat any time soon: he is young and only recently took office. He is well-guarded: we already tried attacking with werewolves and dropping a muggle plane with enchanted explosives on his house."

"Have a dossier on him on my desk next time. We will think of something. Discuss ideas for his liquidation with the Lestranges. You are free to go."

Rookwood left to work on his orders. Next entered one of Riddle's favorites, the elder Rosier. He was one of the original Death Eaters, and Tom always commended him: leader, fighter, executioner, sponsor, one of the most fanatical muggle and mudblood exterminators. Rosier's son grew into his carbon copy, same maniacal Death Eater. They oversaw Tom's only "death camp", where captive muggles and wizards got turned into undead en masse.

"Hello, Rosier." I said, "How many muggles do we kill per year?"

"Not enough, my Lord. Around 4000 missing persons plus about the same number unaccounted for by muggle statistics."

I personally saw no point in exterminating muggles, except, of course, as ritual material. Control, or rather guidance, was a different matter.

"We need to keep a lower profile. Imperio the muggles, make it look like criminal squabbles or immigration. Work with Lucius on influencing politicians. Have known deaths recorded as accidents, suicides… Muggles are pathetic but dangerous with their sheer numbers. We need to safeguard the Statute. We also need to rein in the lower tier of the organization. We are close to winning. Muggles are our property to be used in rituals. If they kill muggles or mudbloods outside raids or other sanctioned activities, they must pay a fine. Additionally, steal corpses from cemeteries. Obviously the quality of not so fresh undead will be low, but they can still be used as shields or to set off traps."

Of course, sadists were not just at the bottom of the organization. I simply wanted to maintain my muggle-hating psycho reputation while reducing civilian losses. When I win they will be the foundation of my nation. The resistance will be killed. Killing for no reason… Pointless. The plan should work. Usually, the ones most into playing with helpless victims were also the ones who least wanted to pay.

"Rosier, if I remember correctly, you complained we are spilling too much magical blood?"

"My Lord, I would never doubt your decisions…"

Why oh why do I want to cruciate everyone so much? Their disagreements with my ideas? Or Riddle's legacy?

"Stop by the Lestranges. I spared Neville Longbottom. One more noble line will survive. His parents died for refusing to join me. Don't spread it around: only the Lestranges and Lucius know about Neville, and I will tell Nott later. Think about how to kill Augusta Longbottom and reach their money. You are free to go, Rosier."

Rosier left, and Nott walked in. He was Rosier's antithesis: also one of the first Death Eaters but not particularly loyal and unhappy with cruel treatment of captives and losses among purebloods. Naturally, this hasn't won him any favors with Tom.

"Hello, Nott."

"My Lord."

"I though on your words about not killing muggles and mudbloods, at least not in the same way and numbers we currently do."

I didn't need legilimency to see that he was waiting to be hit with a Crucio. That was not the plan: his loyalty was already dubious, and I wanted to give him a new task.

"And I decided they have some merit. Begin recruiting mudbloods. Naturally, they can't hope to marry us, have access to our knowledge or receive Dark Marks; they will remain a second class. But we will provide payment and guaranteed safety for their service. As for muggles… Most are trash, but you should be able to recruit some special forces operatives and scientists. Let them assist with planning, calculate runic circles, write textbooks, teach Muggle Studies, produce semi-finished golems and other items for us to enchant. Maybe use mathematicians as lab assistants. We can pay them in muggle money or disease cures. Bind disloyal ones with vows or erase their memories after use."

Too pro-muggle? No, not really: I simply dumped Nott's own initiative back on his shoulders. It could be viewed as compromise, mockery, punishment… It wasn't as if I ordered him to open a charity for muggles. Only put the trash to use towards strengthening our organization. Let Nott do the work.

"As for your question regarding the loss of magical blood… Those morons rejected the magical world and our ancient traditions! For instance, the Longbottoms. I was ready to spare them, offered them to join me three times! I would have let them sit on the sidelines or emigrate. But they stubbornly kept casting Avadas at me! Obviously, I killed them. If Frank's mother tries to avenge them, I'll kill her too. But their baby did nothing wrong and has no plans against me. Lord Voldemort is merciful! I spared Neville Longbottom's life and personally carried him out of the ruins! You can ask the Lestranges to view him. But no one is to know about it except you, Rosier, Malfoy and the Lestranges. Go. Let your loyalty never waver ."

Next was Mulciber. One of the original Death Eaters. A rare psycho. Expert on showboat executions and terrorist acts. Leader of the project "Subjugation."

"Hello, Mulciber. Your Imperiuses and Confundus chains keep benefiting our cause. I especially liked your latest idea with mandrakes- portkeying them to magical and muggle public events. Too bad that one football stadium had anti-sonic charms."

"My Lord, I am your faithful servant…"

"But now we must focus on more important things." I interrupted him, conjuring a parchment, "Here is your list of priority tasks.

First, The Potters' and the Longbottoms' funeral is coming up. Many of our enemies will be in attendance. Organize explosions during the funeral. But be careful: Moody and Albus will be there. I don't need losses among my servants. While Dumbledore and Aurors are busy at the cemetery, have our operatives set up more terrorist acts at other locations. Also, locate Augusta Longbottom. She will definitely want to get revenge. Her son was a strong wizard, so she can't be a feeble old granny, however she acts. I will personally kill her to prevent losses on our side.

Next. I know this is not your field, but I need you to find Andromeda Black, her daughter and mudblood husband. Bring them to me alive and unharmed- no torturing! Andromeda is a pureblood, and mistreating her will anger her sister, Bellatrix. Understood, Mulciber? And her halfblood daughter is allegedly a metamorph, a rare specimen of great interest to me. I need her alive in ideal condition. The mudblood husband needs to be tested. Their daughter's power indicates he might be a halfblood. Bring him in alive and healthy. If you can't find enough qualified manpower for the operation, I will personally back you up. Understood?"

"Her husband is definitely in the Order." replied Mulciber, "Dumbledore hid them well. They will be hard to find and even harder to capture unharmed."

"If you don't want to feel mine and Bellatrix' wrath, you will find a way."

Actually, I had no idea what Bellatrix thought of her sister. She would probably be delighted kill anyone on my orders.

"And lastly, find and bring me Horace Slughorn. Also alive and well, but you may torture him a little. I can use another potions master."

In truth, I just remembered he could be a witness to the existence of my horcruxes: Tom blabbed a bit too much to him back in school. I needed to see if he told anyone else.

"We have been searching for Slughon for a while. He is well hidden."

"Search better. And check the muggle world."

"What would a pureblood wizard of the Sacred 28 do among muggles?"

"Hide from other pureblood wizards of the Sacred 28. Do it."

I really wanted to cruciate him for being such an idiot, but it wouldn't help anything.

I greeted my next visitor. Everyone saw him as simply the Ministry executioner of dangerous creatures, but he did much more. Many of those creatures went to the Death Eaters instead of under his axe, and contraband suppliers became our employees.

"Macnair, what can you tell me about your lovely animals?"

"Business as usual, milord. We keep selling ingredients from executed creatures' body parts and sneaking aggressive dangerous animals to our enemies. Recently, a muggle village got a dragon. It burned quite a bit before dragon tamers could subdue it. We also planted a Nundu in a magical zoology class consisting of ten mudbloods and one halfblood. There were no survivors. Moreover, the Nundu was able to kill three Aurors before they took it out. Its body went to the Ministry and got misplaced due to a clerical error. So we killed several enemies and made money on the ingredients in one swoop. Muggles have been so pathetic that there were mass psychoses from one Boggart, and pixies caused an explosion at a chemical plant. Right now we are working on a new project: planting a chimera. An extremely rare creature. Its price and power are very high, so you should choose an important target yourself. It would be best if Dumblodore could not interfere: he is probably the only one capable of subduing it only bad news is that we have not had any manticores for a long time. And all attempts to hatch a basilisk or find a seller of eggs have been unsuccessful."

Well, I knew where to find a basilisk. And not just any basilisk but a centuries old one that had been marinating on top of a strong magic source. But how to reach it without bumping into Albus?

"I am happy with your progress, Macnair. Keep it up. Think of the best "gift" for the Potters' and the Longbottoms' funeral. We might use your Chimera. For now, hold on to the most rare ingredients- I may need them soon. You are free to go."

Next entered Dolohov. Strong wizard and soldier. Educated in Durmstrang. Dark Arts expert. But he had two major weaknesses: despite having quadruple the average reserve, he hasn't fully accustomed to British sources, so his regeneration rate was no more than average. And for some unknown reason (curse, birth defect?) he could barely shield from stunning curses.

"Dolohov, we need more soldiers."

"We already mobilized everyone we could, my Lord. We are down to Hogwarts seventh years. But their value in battle is near zero."

Tom could not stand dissent. But I will at least consider my servants' advice.

Technically, he was right. But I was not Riddle, my goals didn't include exterminating mudbloods. In my world, people's value would be determined by their usefulness. Still, my power and Slytherin heritage made the purebloods my most natural allies…

"Surely we can find mudbloods who will want to torture and kill other mudbloods, especially when they get paid for it. Who counts as a mudblood willl be decided by us. Recruit them and prepare their papers. As long as they stay loyal, they will stay halfbloods."

"Mudbloods don't have much magical power, milord. Will they be useful?"

"Yes. At the very least we can put them in the vanguard as a live shield. And in secretarial positions."

"We will need to give them at least some minimal instruction. I don't have any free teachers or time to do it myself."

"Find some 16-17 year old purebloods who are homeschooled or on a break."

"Not very many have the knowledge we need at 17."

"Have them teach whatever they can."

Hogwarts was not the only magical school in Britain, only the largest and most prestigious. It accepted the elites (magical and financial) and powerful muggleborns. At a location so overflowing with magic, children could cast weak spells all day long. Away from Hogwarts, their regeneration would dramatically lower, to a huge surprise of the most clueless ones. The majority of muggleborns attend small schools: couple dozen students and 2-3 general subject teachers. Even a Hogwarts dropout could teach them something new.

"My Lord, pureblood children at that age are morons. They all think themselves great Dark wizards because they learned the Unforgivables and put on a black robe."

"I know, Antonin. Write a brochure with twenty or so pages of the basics. Give them out to our new "instructors" as their lesson plan. And one more thing. I am dissatisfied with you. A strong fighter like you being susceptible stunning curses is an atrocity. Yes, I know about your defect. Talk to Malfoy. Tell him to find you anti-stunning amulets compatible with your other defenses, free of charge. Go."

He was replaced by Crouch Jr. Amusing how the father was one of my main enemies, and the son one of my most faithful servants. Same name. Both idealists. Both cruel, self-righteous fanatics.

Barty's loyalty rivaled Bella's, he would gladly cut off his own wand arm at my whim.

"My Lord! I am your faithful servant!" he began.

"Barty, take off your shields and amulets. All of them."

As I said, this was incredibly rude. But he would not tell a soul.

After a couple of minutes, Barty had taken off all of his defenses and was looking at me with dog-like devotion. Entering an unguarded mind took no effort. Unlike Tom, I had lingering doubts about his loyalty. For naught. He was willing to do anything: kill himself, kill his parents… His fanaticism was bizarre and inexplicable. I was searching for a reason… He loved the Dark Lord?! I wanted to cruciate him! Was he gay? Apparently not… He saw himself as my copy. Misunderstood, a fighter against the unfair system. He was in awe of me, wanted to kill his father just like I did. A hopeless lunatic, but I could use him.

"Barty, can you bring a squad of Death Eaters into your manor? Or kidnap your mother and bring her to me?"

Since Crouch Sr. refused bribes, we had to move on to physical liquidation or blackmail. "Kidnapping" Barty wasn't an option- father and son were not close.

"No, my Lord. Father is a skilled wizard with subordinates at the DMLE. The manor is warded and defended by several guards. Mother never leaves home. But I can certainly kill her before I am captured or killed. I wish I could manage my father…"

He said it with absolute sincerity and eagerness. Tom would have approved… I didn't. Barty was an uncontrollable maniac. I wouldn't be surprised if he told the victims his life story before killing them. And if I suddenly stopped resembling his ideal Voldemort… No, he would not betray me, but try to put me back on the "right path" by killing those he thought were a bad influence. This had to be nipped in the bud. But I still needed him…

"Killing your mother will not change your father's politics, only make him hate us even more. But just in case, write a confidential will leaving everything to me."

"My Lord, allow me to give you everything right now…"

"No need. But in case of your death, those muggle lovers must get nothing! Will you be able to smuggle some dark artifacts into your manor? Or create them there? Soon you will get visited by a dark artifact search committee with international witnesses. If they find any, it will cause a scandal, and, at a bare minimum, remove Crouch Sr. from his post for the duration of the investigation."

"No, my Lord. Sneaking anything into the house is not possible. Neither is performing a dark ritual. The manor is filled with DMLE wizards. Their loyalty is unquestionable."

"Your father spends all his time at work?"

"Almost."

"And mother?"

"Takes care of the house. Supervises the elves. Crafts things…"

"Using muggle methods, write down every Dark spell you know on parchments in your house. Ask the others for spells you don't know and write them down as well. Hide the parchments so they can be found with a bit of effort. Additionally, find several muggle women. Seduce or rent them without using magic and bring them to the manor. I don't think the security will give a damn about your sex life. Do not kill them. We will warn you before the committee's arrival. Use their blood to draw runes in your father's bedroom, purportedly for a banned ritual. Choose a believable one with a harsh punishment. But don't charge the runes, leave them as a simple drawing. No deaths or torture means no magic emission: the security won't feel anything, and the committee will get a surprise. Drug the women to prevent pain. And make sure to get out before you get caught. And don't forget about the house elves, they may get in your way. I understand that this will lead to you losing your cover, but this is an acceptable price. Your father must be removed from his position."

"How am I going to draw runes and quietly overpower the muggles without magic?"

"Drug them with muggle sleeping draught. Draw runes by hand, with a dagger and a jar of blood. This is all. Put your shields back up and go."

Left alone, I read reports until the elder Lestrange entered the room.

"My Lord, I introduced Nott and Rosier to Neville. Your servants are acting very strangely: Crouch dug into Magical Law and Dark Ritual books, Bellatrix ran off somewhere with our family lawyer after interrogating me about fairy tales."

"They are following my orders."

"Regarding your orders. We still haven't found your snake. And the teachers… You are the best, my Lord. The best Dark wizard, the best duelist. The best legiliment and occlument. Potion master and ritualist. There is nothing to teach you. Although Malfoy volunteered to teach you fencing, law and finance."

Unfortunately, Dumbledore was better. As for Lucius' offer… He was probably sucking up to me, trying to spend more time with the Lord to improve his standing. It was useless to me. We already had Lucius as the law and finance expert. Or I could always find another. And I was not going to fight Dumbledore with a sword.

"I have no interest in that. But I would like to know more about other fields. For instance, Light magic. And how to to block house elf apparition."

"My Lord, house elves are insignificant. Their reserve is not big enough for a single serious battle spell. They are simple, harmless magical parasites. And killing with Light magic… it is akin to reaching into your left pocket with right hand. Besides, your channels get accustomed to a certain type of magic…"

I already knew all that. Same as with physical body, developing in one direction sacrificed the other: you were either a good runner, swimmer or weightlifter. Or average all around. I was as strong in Dark magic as I was weak in Light. But, one tiny "but": how was I affected by the Samhain events? Performing those rituals showed I had Riddle's body and energy field. But it did not necessarily mean I had his magic potential. Or soul.

"Nonetheless, I will try. I also want to learn more about artifact creation."

Actually, I wanted to understand what happened to my horcruxes. And the original objects. The Founders' artifacts were more than frivolous toys.

"My Lord, why do you need that? We are rich and can get you anything you desire."

Edward was one of the very few to whom Tom explained his actions. At least sometimes.

"Griffyndor had a sword. Ravenclaw had a diadem. I want to create my own artifact worthy of my greatness."

I think I gave the best answer. Now my interest in legends was understandable: I wanted to outdo everyone.

"Fleamont Potter, late James' grandfather, is considered the best artificer of our time. We won't be able to reach his library: James likely left everything to Dumbledore. But Fleamont was not the only one. I will introduce you to artificers from the families loyal to us."

Well, we might be able to get to the Potter inheritance after all… Through Harry Potter… But then Albus will know… Why was everything so difficult? Why didn't they keep their valuables at home?

"I have more orders for you. I need a new wand."

"Your wand was damaged in battle? Unfortunately, I am not an expert. There are a couple of wand makers among the Death Eaters, but they are far from Gregorivich's and Ollivander's mastery. Gregorovich refuses to work with us… After that incident… And Ollivander, though not openly opposing us, is on the enemy side and is guarded by the Ministry and the Order."

"Prepare a plan for his capture. Ollivander himself, his wands, tools, ingredients. I am sure he will live and work just fine in your dungeons. And happily make me a new wand after a couple Crucios."

"If I may ask, under what circumstences did your wand get damaged?"

"It is not damaged. It became less obedient after Potter's death. No doubt, this was Dumbledore's cunning plan to leave me wandless during battle. But he failed to arrive in time to defend his minions."

Logical? I guess so. Though I didn't know of any way to affect someone's wand while it was still in their hand… And doubt it was at all possible.

"But don't spread it around," I said, "Rumors about Dumbledore's power would undermine the morale. We will not use Death Eater wand makers: no need to show vulnerability. And Ollivander will keep silent."

"You should take the Longbottoms' wands, then. I'll find wands from our raid trophies for the liches. Your efficiency is more important than theirs, milord."

Damn, Lily will also need a new wand, or get found out… A trophy one for her as well.

"Why should I take theirs instead of choosing one from your storage?"

"I am not sure exactly, but it is said that the wand either chooses you or you win it in a fight. Killing the owner is not necessary. I don't know the details."

"You know wand lore?"

"Not about their creation. Not about how they work. Only advice on how to use them."

Riddle did not know that… I really had to broaden my horizons outside Dark magic.

"Minky!" called Edward, "Bring the Dark Lord the Longbottoms' wands."

I became the owner of two more wands. Twirled them between my fingers. Riddle's wand felt ideal in his memories. In my hands, eight out of ten. These two felt different: Frank's a nine, Alice's about a six. Strange, both were won in battle… Alice's was probably made with incompatible ingredients. I decided to use Frank's and keep the other two as backup.

"My friend, I need information on ancient artifacts, to know where to aim. And the basics of wand lore."

"You can read about wands in a brochure called "Magic for Beginners," my Lord. Not many people read it because of its banality."

"I will pick it up at the library. Tell me about legendary artifacts."

"My Lord, most are fairy tales I read to my kids, and even they didn't believe them: the indestructible golem, omniscient Merlin's pants, the unstoppable Excalibur and so on… The pinnacle of this idiocy is probably the Necronomicon: a book that contains all dark spells in existence and eats souls. The only thing that can eat a soul is a dementor! Souls don't work like blood where you can use other people's, albeit with less effectiveness than your own."

"Dark magic allegedly harms your own soul."

"Regular use of Dark magic, like any other type, makes you accustomed to it. But it is nothing more than an instrument! Ritual sacrifice channels life force, magic reserves or broken down core of any living being instead of your own energy. Rare kooks even sacrifice their own body parts. But no ritual affects the soul!

Then there are spells that cause physical harm and spells that harm the energy field, the core, the channels. Again, never the soul. Of course, prolonged use of Dark magic affects the psyche and makes the practitioner less proficient at other magic, but it is easily compensated by the mind arts and a large reserve. If it weren't the case, I would have gone mad decades ago! That's why Dark magic is the realm of purebloods. Children or weak wizards would die trying!"

"If that is true, why does Dumbledore not use Dark magic?"

"How should I know?" Edward scoffed, "Maybe it is against his moral principles, maybe he got burned and is now twice weary."

Everything was hardly so simple. The elder Lestrange may be stable, but Bellatrix? Riddle? My Cruciatus urges? I should check other sources.

The Lestranges had a mountain of books on mythology. I suspended all of them in the air and began flipping the pages. I planned to read through them during sleep, however long that would take…

"This is a lot of information," I said, "Give me a summary of the most legendary artifacts, including the Founders'."

"Most of the Founders' artifacts are lost: Slytherin's amulet, Ravenclaw's diadem, Hufflepuff's cup. Dumbledore has the sword of Gryffindor at Hogwarts. But they all definitely existed."

He was wrong about the first part. Voldemort did a phenomenal job tracking them down and turned three into horcruxes. How could I get the diadem from Hogwarts?

"Another famous legend describes the Deathstick or the Elder Wand. Its existence has never been confirmed, but there are many mentions of special, powerful wands belonging to witches and wizards who left a bloody footprint in history. Most were killed for their wand. Possibly just coincidences or examples of that one ritual which makes the wand stronger at the cost of it burning out a few days later."

It sounded ludicrous. But Tom knew his history, and there had definitely been wizards with exceedingly powerful wands. Tom thought they were either coincidences or horcrux-wands that were dangerous for anyone except their owners, so he never pursued them. But a "Deathstick" was worth looking into.

"Compile me a list of the most powerful witches and wizards of the last two centuries. A wand like that sounds useful"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Are there any stories of special armor? Potions of limitless mana? Or something along those lines?"

"Only idiots like the Lovegoods would know."

"What about them?"

"Apparently being a member of the society for the search of the Deathly Hallows was not enough for Lovegood, so he created a society for the search of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. He and his wife are the only members."

"What was that about the Deathly Hallows?"

"It has more members. They believe that in addition to the elder wand there is an indestructible invisibility cloak and a resurrection stone…"

"Resurrection stone? An army of inferi is more noticeable than a powerful wand. How big would an energy accumulator have to be to raise an army? House-sized?"

"According to the legend, the stone raises spirits. Its size… should be small. It works without sacrifices or rituals: just turn the stone three times."

Total rubbish. Tom knew a lot about necromancy. A body couldn't be raised this way. And raising a pure spirit… it was like telling about a perpetual motion machine to a muggle physicist.

"And what do these members look like?" I asked, annoyed. "Do they walk around naked with garden gnome nests on their heads?"

"No, all but the Lovegoods act relatively normal, only wear amulets with this symbol. It is supposed to be on every Hallow," Lestrange drew a circle, a stick and a triangle in the air and combined them. "And the most absurd part is that they are not just searching for three powerful artifacts. They believe that combining them grants power over death itself!"

I was staring at the symbol. I have seen it before. On my horcrux. The Gaunt family ring. Had someone added the stone to a ring? If the ring horcrux truly was an artifact of unprecedented power… It should be undamaged, like the dairy… All I wanted was to drop everything and run to the Gaunt shack, crucioing everyone who dare get in my way.

But secrecy was our everything. Bless Riddle and his instincts: despite my inner turmoil, I kept turning the pages as if nothing happened. Once I finished, I thanked Edward, walked out and called on Rodolphus.

"Rodolphus, I need isolating containers. This instance. And keep quiet about it."

I had to get all my ex-horcruxes. At least the available ones. All of this was probably just an incredible coincidence. But I still had to check. Starting with the ring. If it was true… An army of inferi! Call on Merlin and learn his secrets! So many wizards took their secrets to their grave. For instance, that curse Alice Longbottom cast on me… Tom made horcruxes to cheat death… Did he mutilate his soul in vain? Should have searched for antiques instead? The stone was practically in my pocket. The wand… won't stay hidden for long… The cloak? Start with interrogating famous artificers. But for now, the Gaunt ring!