Chapter 42
"This old elf's pulse seems strong," Hermione murmured, pressing her fingers against the neck of the creature they'd freed from the magical sarcophagus he'd been sealed in. "We should get him somewhere where we can check o…"
"Mistress?" one of the elves asked, approaching her slowly, and Hermione furrowed her brow at him.
"What?" she asked.
"Command us, Mistress," the elf grinned.
"Why do you think that I'm…" Hermione went to ask.
"You were the first one who gave them an order after the spell linking them to Lynch failed," Rias guessed. "If you could be practical for a moment, they might be a big help for us."
"Are we going with Hermione's plan then?" Fleur asked. "Empty the tower, make it look like he fled, and then feed the authorities just enough to get the story out?"
"That does seem doable," Harry replied. Looking at the elves, he asked, "Is this cave accessible other than through the armoires?"
They all just looked up at him in confusion, not seeming to understand the question, and Harry furrowed his brow as he saw their eyes seem to turn yellow for a split second.
"If they were born more recently, they wouldn't necessarily know," Hermione replied.
"I'll fly through and see if I can find another way out," Luna offered, taking off up the stairs and through the door.
"If he sealed the cave off completely, then we can just move the one armoire out and keep access to it," Rias mused. "I'll simply destroy this set-up if I need to, but I'd rather study it first if possible."
"Harry, are you going to speak with Dumbledore?" Akeno asked. "He might be a significant resource here."
"I suppose I should," Harry nodded.
"'Arry, if we do as 'Ermione wants, what am I going to tell my family?" Fleur asked. "I don't like the idea of making them think that this monster is still alive."
"Make it clear to them that they are not under any threat, that they will be protected by the devils, and that Diarmid's connection to the elves was broken during the fight before he escaped and he is thus much, much weaker," Rias replied. "Thinking that a man able to take command of their elves is still out there is how we're going to free them as quickly as we wish to, and you know that your father wouldn't agree to go along with our deception."
"No, he wouldn't," Fleur muttered, shaking her head.
"Tell them whatever you have to to put their minds at ease," Hermione murmured, "but I really do want to take advantage of this opportunity. I just hope that Lord Zeoticus can scale up production of the automatons quickly enough.
"That won't be a problem," Rias assured her.
"I'm going to go check on Papa," Fleur declared. "I know he should be recovered, given that we destroyed the blood sample, but I need to see it for myself and give him our story."
"Fleur, there is every chance that your family is in the Underworld right now," Rias said, and the Veela froze.
"What?" Fleur asked.
"My instructions to Koneko and Kiba were, if the house elves attacked, to bring your family and Sirius to Castle Gremory, where they could be kept safe," Rias replied. "We have to assume that Diarmid had Dobby, Kreacher, and Bernadette attack when he struck against us."
"Dobby!" Harry called out, and the elf appeared immediately, holding a towel full of what he assumed was ice against his head. "What happened?"
"Dobby doesn't know, Harry Potter, Sir," Dobby replied, his eyes going wide as he looked around and spotted the mutilated corpse lying nearby. "One moment, Dobby was fine; the next...this. What happened here?"
"We got in a fight," Harry replied, casting a quick healing charm on Dobby's bruised head. "I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that Koneko knocked him out."
"I need to check Castle Gremory then," Fleur replied, not at all looking forward to the conversation she was about to have.
"Dobby, I need you to summon me into Hogwarts," Harry instructed, "and then show these elves the Rookery. I want this tower cleaned out, and everything, be it of value or not, moved over."
"If anything doesn't fit in the Rookery, store it in Grimmauld Place for now," Rias added.
"Mistress?" the elves asked, looking at Hermione, who sighed.
"Do as they say," the brunette replied, picking the ancient elf up. "Fleur, I'll come with you and get this one settled in a bed so I can check him for injuries."
"My family's servants can look at him as well," Rias added.
"There's no exit to this cave that I could find," Luna announced as she flew back in.
"Then, we need to get the tower's armoire out first," Rias nodded as she reached out with her senses. "I think the wards around this place died with Lynch, so getting in and out should be simpler now."
"Once I speak to Dumbledore, we'll probably have about an hour before the authorities arrive, so do you want me to hold off?" Harry asked.
"No, with the elves here obeying Hermione, it shouldn't take us too long," Rias replied.
"Okay, then, Dobby, go summon me within the castle's wards, and let's get this taken care of," Harry ordered, and the elf popped out.
A moment later, Harry felt himself being summoned away and smiled at the familiar sight of Hogwarts' walls as he appeared within the castle.
"Professor Dumbledore?" he called out. "Fawkes? I…"
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, appearing in a plume of flame with Fawkes on his shoulder. "What is it?"
"I know I said I'd write first, but there's been a bit of a development in the Lynch case," Harry replied, and the older man's bushy white brows raised towards his hairline.
"I see," Dumbledore nodded, holding out his hand. "Please, come along."
Harry took his hand, and Fawkes brought them all back to the old man's office, perching on his left horn as he sat down.
"I must say, I didn't expect you to find anything this quickly," Dumbledore murmured.
"Well, time was of the essence, given Sebastian's rapidly deteriorating condition, and it turned out that Lynch truly did curse him," Harry replied, and Dumbledore sighed.
"I see," he said. "Helping the director is going to be quite difficult, as unless you have direct proof of his involvement, getting the ministries to move against Declan Lynch will be…"
"Declan died before I could speak with him, funny enough, but regardless, we don't have to worry about Sebastian's condition anymore," Harry replied. "I found the blood sample in his tower and destroyed it, but that is far from all that I found. I could explain things in detail, but it might be better to just watch."
"By all means," Dumbledore nodded, gesturing to the pensieve.
Harry focused for a moment, using all of his mental discipline to edit the memory of his confrontation with Diarmid Lynch. Editing one's memories was a difficult thing, and editing them so that even an expert like Dumbledore would be fooled was even harder, but Voldemort had been a master of the mental arts, and Harry wanted to see if he could pull this off. If Dumbledore didn't notice anything off with the memory, then neither would the aurors.
In this new version of events, he met with Lynch alone, listened to him prattle on about his brilliance, tossed a fireball at him when he and his elves tried to kill him, and then flew on a broom through the tower, completely invisible, finding the blood sample and then fleeing through the armoire in the cave, destroying the equipment used to make the house elves, and then fleeing back through the portal as Diarmid appeared, flying out the window. It was a simple narrative, which showed enough to establish Lynch's guilt without making it clear that he was dead. Once Harry had the edited memory in his hand, he placed it down into the basin next to Dumbledore's desk and gestured for the man to take a look.
"Be warned, he is far more twisted than you realized," Harry replied, and Dumbledore paused, looking at him curiously.
"You said Declan had died," the old wizard pointed out, and Harry nodded.
"He had, and yet I didn't just misspeak," he replied. "You'll understand in a moment."
"Grayfia?" Fleur asked, spotting the silver-haired maid as she appeared in the antechamber of Castle Gremory. "Are…"
"Your family is in the guest wing," Grayfia replied before she could ask. Looking at the elf in Hermione's arms, she asked, "What in the world is that?"
"A house-elf," Hermione replied. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say he's been in stasis for centuries, we broke him free, and after he took a few steps forward, he collapsed, unconscious."
"Lead her to one of the guest rooms and have Heinrich look at him," Grayfia instructed one of the nearby maids, who nodded and gestured for Hermione to follow.
Fleur barely paid her any heed, flying off towards the guest wing and smiling when she spotted Koneko a moment later.
"Fleur," the nekomata sighed. "Rias and the others…"
"They're fine," Fleur replied. "We won. Where…"
"They're in there," Koneko replied, and Fleur rushed inside, finding her mother staring in awe at her father as he stood up straighter than he had in weeks, being examined by a middle-aged, bearded man.
"Monsieur Agippa, are you sure?" Apolline asked, her voice tinged with hope.
"All traces of the curse seem to be gone," Heinrich replied. "You'll want to be examined by your own healers, of course, but…"
"Fleur!" Gabrielle exclaimed, jumping into her sister's arms. "Papa's feeling better. I knew 'Arry would save 'im."
"Fleur," Sebastian and Apolline said in unison, staring at her in a mix of relief and apprehension.
"Heinrich, we have someone, or something else, that Lady Grayfia wanted you to examine," the maid from earlier said, and the older man nodded.
"I'll leave you to catch up," he said, nodding at Sebastian before flying off.
"You lot kicked Lynch's arse then?" Sirius asked, standing up and walking over to them.
"We did," Fleur smiled.
"Fleur, we…" Apolline went to say.
"We need to talk; I'm aware," Fleur sighed.
"I'll leave you to it," Sirius replied. "I wonder how great a bar this place has."
"Actually," Kiba murmured, poking his head in. "If the threat from the elves has passed, I can take you back to Japan."
"That works too," Sirius chuckled.
"When you're ready to go, Fleur can take you back herself," Kiba added, and Apolline's eyes narrowed.
"Yes, because you're a devil now," she said, looking at her daughter, who sighed.
"If I wasn't, we'd all be dead," Fleur pointed out. "At the very least, Papa would be."
"Let's just sit down and talk," Sebastian sighed. "So Declan Lynch really was the one who cursed me?"
"And murdered Maelle Devereux, yes," Fleur replied, "though it's all far more dark than we ever imagined."
"What could be darker than murdering a young woman so he could steal her baby?" Sebastian asked.
"He fathered the child himself, intending to kill her and then possess the kid down the line," Fleur replied, making her father's eyes go wide as saucers. "He had been doing this for centuries too. Declan Lynch, or Liam as he was going by when we met him, was actually Diarmid Lynch, the founder of the line."
"So 'Arry fought and defeated a centuries-old evil wizard to save Papa?" Gabrielle asked in awe. "He is magnificent."
Fleur heard her mother swear under her breath and resisted the urge to laugh.
"Before we get to the finer details of that, and we will, there are certain other matters we need to address," Sebastian said, and Fleur nodded, knowing that there was no putting off this conversation any longer.
"Merlin's beard," Dumbledore muttered as he slumped in his chair. "I thought something was off with the man, but...that?"
"I am so glad he and Voldemort never met," Harry chuckled.
"How are you so calm about this?" Dumbledore asked. "A wizard powerful enough that you couldn't take him down is still out there and will be after your blood."
"I fought him to a draw, despite being completely taken aback by just how powerful he was," Harry replied, "and then managed to sneak around his tower at will. He's powerful and significantly beyond the average wizard, but his most devastating abilities came from his connection to the elves, and I seem to have destroyed that. Dobby and Kreacher both attacked Sirius, who had to be helped out by my friends, and they seem fine now. The blood ties between Diarmid and the elves were ancient and layered, and setting that all up again would not only likely take more time than he'll have before the aurors can reach him, but it probably wouldn't reestablish his connection to the already existing elves."
"Even still, when word of this gets out, the wizarding community is not going to take it well," Dumbledore muttered, rubbing his temples. "None of us have ever imagined for a moment that our elves might turn against us. The idea is downright terrifying."
"I might actually have a solution for that," Harry replied. "Weeks ago, long before we knew that Sebastian Delacour was sick, much less had cause to think that the Lynch family might be involved, Hermione read about Diarmid Lynch because she wanted to free the elves. She's had a problem with them being unpaid labor ever since she learned about Dobby's experiences and sought a solution, which my future father-in-law seems to have found."
"Oh?" Dumbledore asked, furrowing his brow.
"Among the texts recovered from the sealed library were those written by the ancient Atlanteans," Harry replied, making his eyes go wide as saucers. "They used automatons as servants, not wanting to risk the wrath of the biblical god by venturing out into the world for slaves as they would have before they fled to their island sanctuary. Zeoticus, Rias' father, has managed to recreate these automatons, and they might very well work as replacements for the elves, who could then be settled in the Underworld and allowed to live out their lives in peace and freedom."
"A noble goal," Dumbledore commented, "and one which might very well become necessary, depending on how quickly we're able to apprehend Diarmid Lynch. The noble families are going to be unsettled by the idea that it was ever possible for someone else to command their elves, but if we don't find him and bring him in quickly, I could see plenty of them decide that having them around at all is a risk they can't take. Of course, they're not going to be particularly pleased by the idea of getting their replacements from a devil."
"I was hoping that that little fact could be kept between us," Harry said, "if for no other reason than that putting forward this immediate solution might keep more than a few of the elves from being killed by their suspicious owners. The automatons are powered by a runic power source that needs to be replaced every few decades but which is directly tied to the person commanding it. Zeoticus couldn't override them, and the runes will be clear enough that any sufficiently knowledgeable wizard or witch could determine that."
"Others could learn to make them then," Dumbledore pointed out, and Harry chuckled.
"They could," he admitted. "This isn't like the elves, where they could only ever come from one source, and I'm sure that whatever company gets set up to sell them will quickly work to patent them in every country in the world, but what will really set the Gremory models apart from any recreation will be the speed of production. The entire wizarding world working together couldn't produce them at the same rate that the factories in the underworld will once production gets ramped up, and it will be more cost-effective to simply buy them from the source."
Dumbledore sat back and sighed, rubbing his temples as Fawkes began to trill a pleasant tune.
"You realize that you're going to need to speak to the aurors about this, yes?" he asked, and Harry nodded.
"I imagine that Amelia Bones has wanted a word with me for weeks now," he murmured.
"Her successor, Rufus Scrimgeour, has as well," Dumbledore replied. "Amelia was named interim minister when Cornelius elected to retire in the aftermath of Tom's assault on the school. She is likely to be elected outright in a few weeks."
"Well, do you think it would be better for me to reach out to them or for you to?" Harry asked.
"I'll contact Rufus now and see if he has a moment to come over," Dumbledore replied, and Harry nodded, hiding his horns and tail from view and awaiting the arrival of the aurors he'd been avoiding for a month.
"But to actually become one of them?" Apolline asked mournfully, and Fleur sighed.
"'Arry was always going to choose Devilry so he could be with Rias, and I could not remain mortal if I wanted to stay with him, which I desperately do," Fleur replied. "I love him. I love all of them, and…"
"You're willing to remain a part of this...harem situation?" Sebastian asked, wincing as he shifted his weight in his chair.
"Papa?" Fleur asked. "Are you alright?"
"Just some lingering soreness," Sebastian replied. "It's not like it was when the curse was still active."
"'Arry is my boyfriend, and 'Ermione, Luna, Akeno, and Rias are all my girlfriends, and I could not be happier," Fleur replied. "I know it is odd, but I love them, and they love me. I moved to Japan for a reason, after all. As for me being a devil, surely from how they took you in today and kept you safe, you can see that they are not all the monsters that we were taught they are."
"I will admit that I've been surprised by how utterly pleasant they've been," Sebastian replied.
"You know how much our kind has suffered for our supposed association with them, though," Apolline hissed. "If word got out that you had become one of them, none of the Veela communes would allow you anywhere near them again. They might bar us too."
"I have worked to keep it a secret, Mama," Fleur sighed. "Our connection to them is quite real, though."
"What?" Apolline glared.
"We do descend from Anastasios, Aphrodite's son, but the woman he took as his wife was herself the descendant of the succubi," Fleur replied.
"How could you say that?" Apolline demanded, jumping to her feet. "The vile lies that have been told about our people for generations have been used multiple times to justify crimes against us. Saying that we descend from devils, that the first of us consumed a phoenix, and that's why we have our powers…"
"The first devil of the Phenix line did consume a phoenix," Fleur replied calmly, "and the succubus who birthed our common ancestor was of their line, but we can hardly be blamed for that. The incubi and succubi were created by the great devil Leviathan to fix the low fertility problems common to all devils, but they were all wiped out by the angels. The devils believe that Azazel, the Governor-General of the Fallen Angels, spared the first Veela, sensing that she was mortal and not a true devil, and placed her with the family that raised her. She then met Anastasios when she came of age."
"How can you be so certain of this?" Sebastian asked before Apolline could respond.
"Because I've met a living incubus, and his allure is too much like ours for there not to be a connection there," Fleur replied.
"You said the angels killed them all, though?" Gabrielle asked.
"They did, but somehow one of the devils managed to experiment on a young human boy in a way that ensured that, when he became a devil, he became an incubus instead," Fleur replied, and Apolline's jaw dropped.
"'Arry?" she asked. "'Arry has an allure like ours?"
"He does," Fleur nodded. "You'll get to feel that for yourself when he finishes speaking with the authorities."
"I should return to France," Sebastian muttered, standing up. "Now that we know who we're looking for, we're going to need to coordinate with the Irish…"
"You only just had the curse lifted," Apolline hissed. "You need to be examined by Healer Allard before you even consider going back to work."
"Maman's right, Papa," Fleur said. "'Arry will already have met with the head of the English aurors by now, and with the sheer security threat that Diarmid Lynch poses, given what he can do with the house elves, they will quickly set about working with the Irish aurors to confront him."
"What exactly happened in Ireland?" Sebastian asked. "Clearly you destroyed the blood sample, given my recovery, but what happened with Lynch?"
"He demanded to meet with 'Arry alone, and he went, with the rest of us sneaking onto the island behind him in case he needed backup," Fleur replied. "When he attacked, Harry fought him off and escaped, making it look like he fled onto the grounds while, in reality, he hid himself and started searching through the tower for your blood while Lynch was busy searching for him. He found it, destroyed it, found and destroyed the apparatus that Lynch used to make and link himself to the elves, and then escaped. We were going to deal with Lynch, but as his control over the elves seemed to break, he fled."
"So Bernadette is herself again?" Gabrielle asked hopefully.
"It seems so," Fleur smiled. "'Arry's elves certainly were."
"That could just be a trap, though," Sebastian warned.
"You didn't see how confused the elves looked the moment we felt something powerful within the tower be destroyed," Fleur said, shaking her head. "Lynch was able to project his magic through them and had dozens of them patrolling the island looking for 'Arry, and the moment they stopped obeying him, he fled. He's weakened and on the run, Papa. Let the other aurors deal with him."
"He took command of an elf I've known since I was a boy, invaded our home, tried to kill me, and…" Sebastian trailed off. "I…"
"Want to kill him as much as I do, I'm sure," Fleur sighed, "but there is no harm in letting others bring down people like that; trust me there. Your curse was just lifted, and you have quite the recovery ahead of you, I'm sure. Please just let the others deal with this."
"Fine," Sebastian sighed, sounding more tired and old than she could ever remember him sounding before. "I am going to fill Elodie in on this, though."
"About the warrant for my arrest you undoubtedly filed…" Fleur murmured, and he sighed.
"There was never a warrant for your arrest, Fleur," Sebastian said. "I didn't want that record existing and figured you were unlikely to return to France soon anyway. I'm sorry I reacted as I did that day. I thought you were in over your head and going to get yourself hurt or worse."
"You were scared for me as I was scared for you," Fleur smiled. "I understand, really."
"Could you take us back to the manor?" Apolline asked. "I need to see what state it ended up in after the fight with Bernadette."
"About her..." Fleur replied. "In all likelihood, she won't know what she did or have any recollection of what happened before. She didn't seem to before, and the other elves seemed so confused in the aftermath of Lynch's power over them being broken."
"So it would be best not to mention any of it?" Gabrielle asked.
"It wasn't her fault, and upsetting her over it wouldn't be fair," Fleur replied.
"You have a point," Sebastian sighed, still struggling to come to terms with the idea that an elf he'd known since he was a boy had anything to do with the attempt on his life. Still, if she truly did have no control over herself or any idea that she'd done anything wrong, he couldn't really bring himself to blame her.
Fleur smiled at him and wrapped her arms around him, only to pull back when he winced and tensed up.
"Papa?" she asked.
"Your papa is still just sore from the effects of the curse," Apolline said.
"Yes, that's all," Sebastian replied. "Overall, I feel much better, but I will still need some rest."
"Right," Fleur replied, furrowing her brow. "Well, I'm sure Maman will contact your healer as soon as she can."
"Of course," Apolline said, giving her a look that showed there had been little chance of her doing anything else. "After that, you and I can continue our chat."
"Will 'Arry be coming by later?" Gabrielle asked. "I want to thank him for saving Papa."
"'Arry is quite busy right now dealing with the aurors," Fleur replied, too distracted by her lingering concerns for her father to worry about the tone of her sister's voice. "Come close, and I will teleport us all back to the chateau."
"You being a devil explains why you were able to escape it as you did that day," Sebastian murmured, having wondered how his daughter managed to ignore his anti-apparition wards.
The three of them huddled close to Fleur, who opened a fiery magical circle around them and teleported back to France.
"This...this isn't possible," Fergus O'Leary, the head of the Irish division of the British Auror force, stammered as he pulled his head out of Dumbledore's pensieve, having watched the memory that Rufus Scrimgeour and Amelia Bones already had.
"You saw the bloody memory the same as I did," Amelia muttered, her face so tense Harry almost feared for her monocle.
"This is going to make the headache caused by the assault on Hogwarts seem tame by comparison," Rufus muttered.
"Could it have been someone using polyjuice?" Fergus asked desperately.
"Oh, come off it, man," Rufus scoffed. "The man commanded Inchmore Tower's wards and controlled the Lynch family's elves. We received record of Declan Lynch's death days ago and had been informed that his son Liam would be taking over the family business, so we know that he was who he claimed."
"That's all correct," Amelia nodded.
"Merlin, what a nightmare," Fergus muttered. "You know what havoc news of this is going to wreak in our country."
"And further abroad," Dumbledore piped up. "House-elves have become a major part of our way of life over the past few centuries, and no one is going to be pleased to learn any of this."
"Is there any way we could keep things quiet?" Fergus asked, looking pleadingly at Amelia. "At least until we've brought Liam Lynch in for questioning?"
"The French authorities are already aware of his involvement in the assassination attempt on Director Delacour," Harry replied, earning a glare from the short, balding man. There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, which spoke of the combat he'd seen as an auror, but he'd also clearly been behind a desk for decades and had been softened by it. Harry couldn't quite compare him to Fudge outright, but he'd already decided that the man had too many similarities to the former minister to be worth much.
"And the Delacours will undoubtedly inform the local press there," Amelia added. "If we even attempt to lean on the Prophet to keep quiet about this, we'll look like fools at best. I know this is going to be unpleasant for Magical Ireland as a whole and…"
"Unpleasant?" Fergus asked incredulously. "Diarmid Lynch is one of our most famous wizards, our answer to Nicholas Flamel or Albus here. His family, oddballs though they've always seemed, have been a symbol of what we Irish can do when we let our creativity and penchant for innovation take hold, and now we're going to be told that, not only has there only ever been one of the bastards, but he's as dark as You-Know-Who ever was? That's not even counting how badly every pampered noble prick in the Isles is going to shit himself when he learns that he's never actually been able to trust his house elves."
"The timing could be better too," Rufus muttered. "The attack on Hogwarts is still fresh in everyone's minds, and another major story like this couldn't come at a worse moment, but there's nothing we can do about it other than carry on. Potter, do you have any idea where Liam Lynch might have gone? You've been investigating the family for a while now, I take it?"
"Not that long, and I have no idea," Harry replied. "Our only contact to him was Deirdre McAllen, and he murdered her."
"Fucking hell," Fergus muttered, looking like he wanted to find a nice hole with which to do his best ostrich impression just then.
"I might be of some help there," Dumbledore said. "I had been suspicious of Declan Lynch for quite some time now, though I never dreamed that things might turn out to be nearly as dark as this. I have a list of places he visited from the sixties onward, and it's entirely possible, I would argue even probable, that he has safehouses in at least some of the locations."
"He certainly had one in Compiegne," Harry added. "My friends and I cleared it out while investigating Sebastian's attempted murder."
"I imagine the French aurors are going to want a word with you too, Mister Potter," Amelia said. "I must say, when Albus said you wanted to speak to me about a criminal matter, I didn't think for a moment you weren't talking about the assault on Hogwarts."
"I can give you my testimony about that as well, while we're here," Harry offered as he reached out to Rias mentally. "How goes the cleanup?"
"We've cleared out the tower and are just looking around the cave now," Rias replied. "There's something about this apparatus that feels off to me."
"Rufus, assign someone to take his statement," Amelia said. "Mister Potter, you are to be commended for bringing such a vast criminal conspiracy to our attention, but you should have come to us before ever attempting to confront such a dangerous individual on your own."
"With all due respect, Minister, I had every reason to think that I could hold my own against Lynch, having bested Voldemort," Harry replied, smiling approvingly when she barely flinched at the name, "and moreover, while I have no reason to doubt your competence, I didn't know that Fudge had been removed, and I think we can all agree that trying to take this to you while he was still in charge would have likely gone poorly. He'd have tried to shut down the investigation at best and forewarned Lynch at worst. This is a man who once threw a guy in Azkaban for no reason, with no trial, just to look like he was doing something during the Chamber incident and put dementors in…"
"Cornelius' mistakes were many, and on behalf of the ministry, I do apologize for them, but if you ever come across a criminal matter in the British Isles again, you are to bring it to the aurors," Amelia said flatly.
"As you wish, ma'am," Harry replied. "Of course, it's unlikely that I will at all, given that I have moved to Japan. I didn't expect to return so soon at all."
"Albus, do you mind if I just send Kingsley over to speak to Potter here?" Rufus asked. "His presence in the ministry would cause a stir at this point."
"By all means," Dumbledore nodded. "It's not like his statement will take long to record."
"Right," Rufus nodded. "Fergus, we need to scramble as many aurors as we can to descend on Inchmore with."
"Right," the older man sighed, shaking his head. "Potter, on behalf of my entire country, I'd like to apologize for this."
"It's the French ministry that will need to hear that most," Harry replied. "I just took on a mad prick, and it's not like he was the first."
"Right," Fergus winced, remembering again that this was a very international incident.
He followed Amelia and Rufus out, leaving Harry alone with the headmaster, who sat back in his chair and sighed.
"I didn't realize that Magical Ireland was entirely part of Magical Britain," he admitted, and Dumbledore chuckled.
"The history between the magical populations of the islands isn't nearly as unpleasant as that of their muggle counterparts," the older man explained, "and without the religious divide among the purebloods, the idea of dividing ourselves never occurred to them. It's been a bit of a shock for more than a few Irish muggleborns over the decades."
"I can imagine," Harry nodded before sitting back in his seat. "Sorry for going silent there; the minister wanted to chew me out for not going to aurors."
"If they try to make trouble for you, I'll lean on Lady Serafall to end it," Rias promised, and he shivered at the thought of Serafall acting in a diplomatic capacity.
"They both made it clear that there'll be no charges here," Harry replied. "If they knew we'd killed the guy, that might change, but honestly, I doubt it. What's weird about the elf-production apparatus, other than the whole 'living sacrifices' thing?"
"There's a great power coming from them," Rias replied. "Akeno's sure she can sense multiple sources of it buried either within the vats or under them, but I'm not sure. At any rate, we have the armoire from Diarmid's room in the Rookery, so we'll be able to return here as needed to investigate. The Inchmore elves are there too and asking about Hermione."
"That's..weird," Harry replied.
"It probably is just that she gave them their first order after their connection to Diarmid was cut," Rias replied, and he could practically hear her shrug across their connection.
"Albus?" a new voice asked as a flash of green fire erupted from the floo. Harry looked and saw Kingsley appear, looking distinctly amused.
"Ah, Kingsley, it's good to see you again," Albus smiled. "You two met back at Christmas, right?"
"That's correct," Kingsley nodded. "Mister Potter, like the rest of us, I owe you my thanks for putting down that monster. We just need a formal statement from you about what happened the day of the attack, like what you gave after your fight with Barty Crouch Junior last year, and that will be the end of it."
"Well, it all started when my friends and I came across a masked Death Eater in the school on our way to the Great Hall for the feast," Harry began.
"This is...quite the haul," Venelana marveled as she looked around the large room filled with various pieces of furniture and treasures plundered from Lynch's tower. "You're making a habit of this."
"It isn't one I'll be keeping up," Rias replied. "I've just always figured that, if you bring an enemy down in their own home, why shouldn't you loot the place afterward?"
"I raised you well," Venelana chuckled, kissing her cheek. "Some of this is really high-quality."
"I suspect much of it is," Rias replied. "I need to actually go through the things I've stored here over the past couple months. The various things we took from the Room of Requirement, the plunder from the safe houses in France, and now this?"
"I was going to say something," Venelana murmured, opening an enchanted chest and whistling when she saw the contents. "A chest full of whiskey bottles? These don't look cheap either."
"If it's anything like what he gave us each a glass of, it isn't," Rias replied, pulling out one of the unopened bottles. "Midleton...thirty years? This is even older than the Redbreast he gave us."
"And likely more expensive," Venelana said, taking it from her and smiling. "I don't suppose there might be a jewelry collection in here?"
"He was a four-hundred-year-old widower whose first marriage ended so poorly he started impregnating and, once the babies were developed enough to be removed, murdering women to have his heirs without having to speak to them again," Rias replied.
"So, no jewelry," Venelana sighed. "At least he had good taste in liquor. What in the world is that thing Hermione brought in?"
"An elf, so what they were originally," Rias replied. "I'll need to get a copy of Diarmid's grimoire from our library to see what exactly he did to change them, but it would seem that they were greatly altered by him before he started selling them."
"As your father told Hermione when she asked, the original batch was apparently quite annoying," Venelana replied. "I remember hearing a couple things about them back in the day, but it was so long ago; that's all I really recall."
"Speaking of the grimoire, I need to speak to Harry for a moment," Rias said. "You should probably go straight to Reinhardt and get your deal over with when you're done with the aurors."
"Way ahead of you, love," Harry replied. "I'm just finishing with my statement now, and I'll take a quick trip to Germany before stopping by the castle."
"You might want to stop by the Delacour Chateau first," Rias replied. "They've already gone back, and, given that they know everything now, they will want to speak to you."
"Okay," Harry replied. "I'll see you when I can."
"See you then," Rias smiled, feeling him pull back.
"Ah, to be young again," Venelana chuckled, smirking when she saw an excited-looking Zeoticus walk by. "Darling, come see what Rias managed to take from that dreadful human."
"Midleton thirty?" Zeoticus asked, taking the bottle from her and smiling. "I was gifted a bottle of this as part of a contract earlier this year. It's incredible."
"Well, I'll have to open it soon," Rias replied. "You seem excited."
"The other factories are well on their way," Zeoticus grinned. "By this time next week, we'll be cranking out scores of automatons an hour. The stock that I already have should be sufficient to demonstrate their viability as an elf replacement. You know, I never expected to start making anything of them so quickly."
"Well, when opportunity knocks," Rias replied. "We've created a crisis, and people throughout the magical community will soon be begging for a solution."
"One we can supply and profit substantially from," Zeoticus chuckled. "Where's Hermione? This was her idea, and I do want to say how impressed I am by her initiative."
"She's probably still tending to that odd-looking elf she brought in," Venelana sighed. "She's a bright girl, but her heart is a tad soft for the Underworld."
"She's also been a devil for not quite a month, Mother," Rias replied. "She'll grow and develop as I train her. I should let her know that Harry's almost finished with the authorities, if you want to tag along, Father."
"We both may as well," Venelana shrugged, following her daughter from the treasure room to the guest wing of the castle.
"...in relatively good health," they heard Heinrich say as they approached. "I have no reason at this time to think that he needs anything more than rest."
"I hope so," Hermione replied. "I have so many questions for him about where he and the other original elves came from and how exactly Diarmid…"
"Not an elf," the creature hissed, opening his yellow eyes slowly and glaring balefully around the room. "Where am I?"
"You're in Castle Gremory, in the Underworld," Luna replied. "I'm Luna, and this is Hermione. She's the one who carried you here from Inchmore."
"Hmm, I sense great darkness in all of you," the odd elf grinned, sitting up. "I do hope that wretched wizard's end was brutal."
"He was beaten and stabbed to death by the other e...you say that you're not elves?" Rias asked.
"Bah!" the creature scoffed. "Of course we're not elves. Do we look like fairy-worshiping, nature-obsessed, poetry-loving sadsacks to you? Where are the others?"
"We left them back in Japan," Hermione replied. "Would you like me to bring them here?"
"Try calling them over," the creature replied, eyeing her curiously. "I sense a connection with you."
"Um, okay," Hermione replied. "Elves, or whatever you are. Come here."
"Mistress calls us?" one of them asked as they appeared before her.
"Hah! I knew it!" the creature exclaimed triumphantly. "You took command of the minions after that wizard's hold on us was broken."
"The what now?" Hermione asked.
"Minions, Dark One," the creature chuckled. "I am Gnarl, the minion master, and you, I suspect, are our new evil Overlady. Once we've found the minion hives, gathered the others, and fixed the disgusting things that that wretched wizard did to them, we will sweep across the land, laying waste to your enemies and conquering all you survey in your dark name."
"What?!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping back in shock as Gnarl got out of bed and examined the elves more closely.
"Gah, what a revolting transformation!" he spat. "Kind, helpful, and subservient to whoever commands them. This is almost as bad as that dream I had once about a shiny, golden force that swept over the land, turning all it came into contact with into cuddly creatures of wholesome goodness. Not quite that bad, though."
"I...I don't want to be your overlady," Hermione spluttered.
"You don't?" Gnarl asked.
"I just wanted to free you all from your enslavement," Hermione insisted. "What Diarmid did to you, half of which I still don't understand, was wrong in the extreme, and I want to give you all a chance to live your lives as you choose."
"Mistress?" one of the minions asked, looking up at Hermione in confusion.
"Well, that doesn't seem very evil, I will admit," Gnarl said, moving in closer to her and sniffing. "You do smell quite evil, though."
"We're all devils," Rias replied. "Hermione here was human not long ago, but I made her into one."
"Ah, that explains it," Gnarl nodded. "Well, if you aren't a champion of evil eager to use the minion armies to bring your foes down and conquer all that you survey, I suppose we'll have to look further afield."
"I must point out that you do have enemies still, girl, and will make more down the line, surely," Venelana said, giving Hermione a pointed look.
"Enemies, you say?" Gnarl asked, smirking up at Hermione, who was still staring down at him in wide-eyed shock. "Still, that alone does not make one worthy of the title of Overlord, or Overlady in this instance. To be a true master of evil, you need a certain drive, a desire for conquest that cannot be easily sated. I took from how you helped bring down that wizard and commanded the minions to murder him afterward that you might be such a being, but if we're forced to look elsewhere…"
"Wait a moment, I…" Hermione went to say.
"It's probably for the best," Gnarl sighed. "It's not like you live in a dark tower or anything."
"But we do live in a dark tower," Luna replied, not noticing how Hermione was mouthing the words 'no, don't' to her.
"Lives in a dark tower, dispatches her foes with extreme prejudice and violence, and is an actual creature of sin?" Gnarl asked, grinning up at Hermione, who quickly found herself surrounded by grinning house-elves. "Sounds like Overlady material to me."
"Overlady! Overlady! Hail the mistress!" they all chanted together, jumping up and down around her as she buried her head in her hands.
"I just wanted to help you all," Hermione lamented, earning a throaty chuckle from Gnarl.
"Well, they say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions," he chuckled. "I've never put much stock in that particular saying myself, but it does seem to be precisely where you've led us. Well done, Dark One."
"How do we undo what Diarmid did to the others?" Luna asked as Hermione sat down.
"If I had a sufficiently large stick, there is one thing I could try," Gnarl replied, and Luna conjured a stick before handing it to him, only to wince as he bonked one of the house-elves right on the head with it.
"Pull yourself together!" Gnarl shouted. "I can already feel the wizard's magic weakening in you."
They all watched in shock as the house-elf, rubbing his sore head, transformed before their eyes, his skin going from beige to light brown, his hands and feet developing claws, his ears becoming less droopy, and his eyes going from blue to yellow, with the sclera turning the same shade eventually as well. When he smiled up at Hermione, it wasn't the gentle, kind smile that she'd come to associate with house-elves, but something malevolent, not aided by the sharp teeth he'd developed.
"Ah, a brown minion!" Gnarl smiled. "Line up, you sorry lot! It looks like you're all going to need a turn with the fix-it stick."
"What the hell have I done?" Hermione asked, watching as Gnarl continued to bonk each of the elves on the head. "I wanted to free slaves…"
"And you did," Zeoticus smiled, "getting yourself an army of evil minions in the process. There's nothing wrong with...don't you pee there!"
As she watched her husband zap the minion who had tried to pee in the corner of the room with a low-powered bolt of lightning, Venelana muttered, "We should probably relegate them to one of the empty manors on the Gremory territory for the time being."
"Hermione, it seems like this would have happened when we took out Diarmid either way," Rias said, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"It also sounds like the other not-elves might turn back into these adorable little gremlins on their own eventually too," Luna added, watching in amusement as a pair of them started wrestling in front of her.
"They will, though not as quickly as they will with a good hard whack to the head," Gnarl said, finishing up with the last of them. "This lot were all browns, Dark One. They're your front-line troops, the most durable of all minions, and the most versatile in combat. Show your Overlady what you can do!"
Hermione watched as they paired off and started fighting viciously, shaking her head at the display.
"You said something about hives?" Venelana asked, watching the minions fight with clear interest.
"Yes," Gnarl replied. "Typically, after an overlord was defeated, or eaten, or brought down by some far rarer means, the minions would scatter and set their hives up in areas most suited to them. In this case, though, we found ourselves taken in almost immediately by the one who destroyed our old master, only for him to tire of us within the day and shove us in that cave we got stuck in. There we slept until we were finally freed by the wizard, though that freedom came at a far greater cost."
"When you say destroyed, how exactly do you mean?" Venelana asked, eyeing him curiously.
"Our former master had been lord of his domain for less than a year when this dark-haired, bearded man with glowing purple eyes appeared, holding a giant red dragon scale in his right hand," Gnarl replied. "Sensing his power and thinking him a threat, the Overlord ordered the minions to attack, though before our reds could toss so much as a single ember at him, he'd sent an orb of crimson energy right at him. Destroyed him in one hit. It was actually quite impressive."
"So you came from another world?" Rias asked. "The man, I'm assuming a Bael, must have found one of the apocalypse dragon's scales. We read an account of someone else who was teleported to another world by one of them."
"Whatever it was, it brought him to our world and when we swore ourselves to him, wanting to serve such a powerful, palpably evil being, he used it to return, though only after he'd shoved us and our hives into an enchanted chest," Gnarl replied. "Alas, one of the reds set fire to a tapestry he'd quite liked just as he was coming to realize how potent the stench of the greens is, and he decided he'd made a terrible mistake, short-sighted fool."
"I wonder if that was Lord Zekram himself or one of my other ancestors," Venelana thought to herself, deciding to investigate the matter. "I want to make it perfectly clear that if you destroy anything in the home I send you to, my punishment will make that other devil's look pleasant."
"Noted...whoever you are," Gnarl replied.
"This is Lady Venelana Gremory," Hermione replied, figuring that if she was stuck having the not-elves serve her, she may as well take responsibility. "She's Rias's mother, Rias being my...do we gender the title, because calling you my mistress…"
"This beauty is your mistress, Ma'am?" Gnarl asked, looking Rias up and down approvingly. "Very nice work."
"No, I…" Hermione went to say as Rias chuckled.
"Well, I suppose I am your mistress too," she purred, wrapping her arms around Hermione from behind and kissing her temple.
"Grayfia?" Venelana called, and the maid appeared immediately.
"Yes, my La...what the hell are these?" Grayfia asked, looking at the still-sparring minions with concern and bafflement.
"Hermione's minions," Zeoticus asked, sounding amused.
"She has minions now?" Grayfia asked, looking at the brunette, who just sighed.
"Apparently," Hermione replied through gritted teeth.
"Escort them to the cottage you and Sirzechs stayed in after your wedding," Venelana commanded, "and make it clear to them what you'll do if they break anything."
Grayfia put her fist through the stone wall, and all the minions stopped what they were doing and stared up at her in awe.
"I don't suppose this one is your mistress too by chance?" Gnarl asked quietly, and Hermione froze.
"No," she said quickly, wilting under Grayfia's stone-cold stare as she repaired the wall with a wave of her hand. "Follow Grayfia and stay where she puts you until I call. Don't break anything."
"Want to smash things, though," one of the minions whined, only to freeze when she glared at him.
"I'm sure there will be plenty of things to smash later," Gnarl chuckled. "An Overlord, or Overlady never lacks for enemies, after all."
"Maybe if I threw them at Rizevim Lucifer, he'd die laughing," Hermione thought to herself. "So, what exactly is going to happen to the other ones we called house-elves?"
"Ugh, such a disgusting term," Gnarl shuddered. "They will, in the coming weeks, lose the ability to cast spells as they could, since they are no longer directly tied to that wizard, and will revert to their original, less friendly personalities. I don't know if they will physically transform without some degree of violence to push them into it, but that's possible as well. One thing that I can say for sure, Dark One, is that their compulsion to obey their supposed masters will wither rather quickly."
"So in the end, I did free them," Hermione thought to herself. "I just bound them to me instead of letting them go properly free."
"These hives you mentioned, could they be back in the cave where we found you?" Rias asked.
"Quite likely," Gnarl nodded. "I hope my old lantern is too. I went to a great deal of trouble to trap the fairy that lit it inside the crystal."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose at that.
"Well, a deal's a deal," Harry murmured as he gazed at Reinhardt's home, Diarmid's grimoire securely in his mokeskin pouch.
He walked towards the door, knowing that he very likely wouldn't need to knock, and chuckled to himself when the door swung open at his approach.
"Reinhardt?" he called out.
"Please have a seat, Herr Potter," Reinhardt's voice echoed through the room. "I'm just repairing something at ze moment."
"I guess you don't exactly have elves for that," Harry murmured to himself, recalling that the man had never bothered with them.
He made his way inside and sat down in the sitting room, snorting when a couple steins started floating through the air of the kitchen towards the keg the German wizard kept permanently filled with his own brew and were quickly filled before flying out towards him. Grabbing one, he set the other down on a cork coaster and had a drink, realizing only as the golden liquid descended down his throat how much he honestly needed it.
He hadn't had a chance to feel relieved after beating Voldemort, since that had immediately been followed by his nearly botched devil transformation and then learning about Rizevim and his mother. In this case, though, he could fully relish his victory over Diarmid and the fact that he'd helped save Fleur's father from dying. He took another swig just as Reinhardt appeared, dressed as he always was in his simple black robes, and slumped down in front of his beer.
"An experiment gone wrong?" Harry asked and Reinhardt shook his head.
"Nein, Herr Potter," the ancient wizard replied. "I just had a little maintenance to take care of. Can I understand from your presence zat you managed to track down ze von who tried to kill your friend's father?"
"I don't recall saying what my connection to Sebastian Delacour is," Harry commented, and the man laughed.
"I know of him, vhich means I know who und vhat he's married to, vhich means I know vhat he has for daughters," Reinhardt explained. "Given zat I am fairly sure you are sleeping vith every girl you brought here, it stands to reason zat your little harem might be somewhat more extensive zan zat und zat you left ze Delacour girl behind zinking zat her fiery blood might boil at being in ze room vith vhat vas a suspect at ze time."
"Fair enough," Harry muttered, "and yes, we did manage to track down the person responsible and bring them down."
"Did you really?" Reinhardt asked, sounding quite impressed. "Vell, don't keep me in suspense, young one. Given ze power zis figure displayed, und zere familiarity vith me, I can't imagine it vas not someone I knew."
"It was Declan Lynch," Harry replied, "or as he preferred to go by, Diarmid Lynch."
Given that he was going to hand the man's grimoire over to Reinhardt, he figured there was little point in keeping that particular part of the tale from him.
"He is finally dead zen?" Reinhardt asked, and Harry cocked an eyebrow.
"You did know him them," he sighed. "Another of your projects?"
"Oh no," Reinhardt chuckled. "Ze man vas far too insistent on his independence to ever reach out for my aid. Ve did meet a few times zough to exchange magical ideas, und I found him fascinating enough, zough he vas admittedly strange even by my standards. I hadn't seen him since he vent by Keiran back in ze early nineteenth century or else I might have recognized his handwriting. I knew it looked vaguely familiar."
"Well, at any rate, he's dead, Sebastian's saved, and I brought you this," Harry replied, pulling the dead man's grimoire from his mokeskin pouch.
"Ah, Herr Potter," Reinhardt chuckled. "When I made my deal with you, I figured I would be getting a substantial magical vork out of it, but I didn't expect something quite like zis."
"His greatest secrets won't be of much use to you, I'm afraid," Harry replied, handing it over. When the German man cocked an eyebrow at him, he said, "It's not as though his particular form of immortality would hold much relevance for you, since you already have a horcrux, and the elves were something he made from a source he found at random."
"True, but I suspect zere vill be far greater secrets in here beyond zose vons zan you imagine," Reinhardt smiled, feeling the smooth leather of the cover.
"I'll be sure to look over my copy of it just in case," Harry thought to himself, downing more of the beer.
"If you ever find yourself needing further assistance, I vill be happy to make further deals," Reinhardt smiled. "After all, zis partnership turned out vell for…"
A loud ringing sound rang through the entire house and Reinhardt froze, looking momentarily frightened before schooling his features.
"Alas, I must cut zis short," he said. "Zat maintenance I vas doing just reached a critical phase."
"I'll leave you to it then," Harry replied. "Farewell."
"Farewell," Reinhardt replied, watching the young devil disappear in a ritual circle before apparating down into the lowest level of his tower and shivering as he felt the presence that awaited him. His eyes could not see, but one didn't need sight to sense a power like that of Rizevim Livan Lucifer. Genuflecting, he breathed, "Your Majesty."
"We are not accustomed to waiting for our servants," Rizevim said peevishly, glaring down at him within the summoning circle he'd been setting up and filling with his blood when Harry arrived.
"My apologies, your Majesty," Reinhardt replied. "I needed to shoo a guest who showed up to conclude a deal vith me just as I finished setting up ze circle. I bring news."
"We did not think you'd have the nerve to summon us for nothing, human," Rizevim replied. "What is it?"
"Harry Potter managed to save Sebastian Delacour's life," Reinhardt replied and the ancient devil let out a growl.
"You assured us when we reached out to you seeking information about the boy that this plot you had uncovered would deprive his Veela pet's father of life," Rizevim hissed.
"He proved to be more...competent zan expected, but ze plot I mentioned still did all zat you required," Reinhardt replied. "I know ze curse zat vas used in zis case vell, und it progressed to it's penultimate phase before Potter ended it. Delacour suffered permanent damage from it, I assure you, und given ze severity of it by ze end, I vould vager my life zat his sex drive has been extinguished."
"You are, we assure you," Rizevim muttered, licking his thumb and smoothing one of his silver brows with it. "Still, if this is true, then it suits our purposes well. As a Veela, the human's wife needs sex to stay sane, and with her husband unable to sate her hunger, she will need to turn to another."
"Und who better zan her daughter's devil boyfriend?" Reinhardt chuckled, figuring from what little the heir to the Lightbringer's throne had said that that was what he wanted. He seldom put that much thought into why the people he associated with wanted what they did, preferring to just help them along and then watch the fireworks, and that was doubly true of celestial beings.
Rizevim smoothed his other eyebrow and stared down at Reinhardt contemplatively, clearly weighing whether or not to do something. After a moment he said, "If you breathe a word of what we are about to tell you to anyone, we will tear your very soul apart even if we need to blow up the moon to do it."
Reinhardt froze at that and stared up at the ancient devil, his milky eyes trained on him despite how little he could truly see.
"I did not live as long as I have by making a habit of betraying ze trust of being such as you, your Majesty," he said, and Rizevim laughed.
"We suppose you have lived a while, have you?" he murmured. "You lot are generally like goldfish. It is important to our plans, for reasons you don't need to know, that Potter become...close to the Veela race as a whole. Eventually, we wish for him to become their shared plaything."
"You think he'll survive that for more than a week?" Reinhardt asked incredulously. "How?"
"We are not in the habit of revealing our brilliance to lesser beings," Rizevim glared. "Suffice it to say that he is important, one of the most important pieces on the board presently, and we want him watched carefully. Lean on your network of contacts and keep an eye on him, reporting any news you uncover to our second in command, Euclid Lucifuge. Pay special attention to anything you come across regarding him and other Veela."
"Your will be done," Reinhardt nodded, and the ancient devil vanished, leaving him alone and perplexed. Standing up, he vanished the summoning circle and sat down on his bed, murmuring, "You've turned out to be even more interesting zan I knew, Herr Potter."
Chuckling to himself, he stood up and walked up to his study, eager to start looking through Diarmid's grimoire.
"You shouldn't have stolen from me, old friend," he murmured to himself as he cracked open the book and cast a spell to have the words be read aloud to him. "I'd have shared the secrets to cloning with you if you'd made a deal, but theft…"
Sighing at the other dark wizard's foolish greed, he sat back and listened to the grimoire, putting all thoughts of the conversation he'd just had out of his mind for the moment.