This story is a continuation of James Potter Year One: The Traitor Of Gryffindor.

Andrew Wesker was both a very rich, and very successful man. He began is life with nothing, but after several decades of business, he became the wealthiest man in Britain; with a business empire worth just over one trillion pounds. Weskorp Tower was the tallest building in London, larger than even the Shard. His office sat on the highest floor, which allowed him to view the city like a child playing with his toys.

Wesker was tall, imposing man, with long black hair that went all the way to his shoulders. He wore a very expensive business suit, but he also had a cape and a cane whose head was shaped like a raven's beak. He was currently holding an online video conference with his executives in America, Canada, Europe and all his other major branches.

"I have decided to enforce a new company policy" said Wesker. "From what I understand, the productivity targets have been met by hardly any of our American employees."

"What did you have in mind sir?" asked the American executive, a white haired gentleman in his fifties, with a Californian accent.

"Lower the salaries to all underperforming employees; unless they are financially unstable" ordered Wesker. "If they are struggling to pay the bills, I want you to fire them without the possibility of a reference."

"Are you sure about that sir?" asked the American. "I mean, some of those people there are single mothers who are only just making enough of a living to feed their kids."

"Even better" grinned Wesker. "Keep track of how badly they can afford to survive. Then use it to demonstrate to everyone else what happens if our employees aren't focussed twenty four seven."

The loyalty of his employees was something that constantly angered Wesker. In his mind, they should only ever be focused on the business. He didn't care that work hours for most roles were seven o'clock in the morning until eleven o'clock at night; that the company never accepted anyone to take a holiday, and those who take Christmas off are immediately fired; or even that almost everyone was paid minimum wage, and that Wesker's lawyers are constantly trying to persuade the governments of the world to decrease it.

"Very well" muttered the American. "We will do what you say."

"Mr. Wesker" interrupted the Canadian. "What's that outside of your window?"

Wesker turned around. A small drone with a camera was spying through the window. Wesker snarled, and pressed a button next to his desk microphone.

"Can security please get rid of that Cybersaur drone" he demanded.

Not long afterwards, the drone flew away of its own accord.

"This meeting's adjourned" he said.

"But sir, we only got through half the discussion" protested the Canadian.

"Have you not heard of Cybersaur's activities lately?" asked Wesker. "They've been targeting millionaires and blackmailing them for months now; unleashing their findings in case they don't get paid. If they've infiltrated this meeting, then we can't give them anymore information to use as leverage. Goodbye."

Wesker turned off the video feed, and then put his face in his hands. Cybersaur were becoming a lot more of a nuisance as of late. One of his business partners was blackmailed for a recording of him saying that he didn't want any black people being employed in his company. The strangest part of it however, was that the conversation took place in a secure, empty room with no strangers. Even after the blackmail, the whole building was scoured for bugs, but none were found, and the IT security was regarded to be more secure than MI6.

"Mr. Wesker sir" called his receptionist over the speaker. "Travers has arrived with the package."

"Just now?" Wesker said in a surprised voice. "Send him up immediately."

Wesker was afraid that Cybersaur might somehow discover the secret of his side project; but this was too important to delay for security concerns. He watched his personal elevator's floor number increase higher and higher, until finally it reached the top. The elevator doors opened, and inside were a man and a woman. The woman was bound by ropes, and gagged with a cloth, and was shoved out of the elevator by the man. They both looked to be in their thirties, but in reality the man was in his late seventies.

"You took your time Travers" noted Wesker.

"You try kidnapping somebody, and trying to evade both the aurors and the muggle police" replied Travers. "And the drones those muggle kids are flying aren't making things easier either."

"Well you're here now, and that's what matters" said Wesker. "Is this the girl she wanted."

"Correct" grinned Travers, picking up the woman. "May I introduce you to Pansy Parkinson."

Pansy looked one part terrified, one part disgusted by her situation. Wesker was not surprised; being kidnapped by a muggle would be considered the ultimate humiliation for a pure-blood supremacist like her.

"Bring Dr. Rosemary Gardens up to my office please" Wesker ordered over his speaker.

He then walked over to Parkinson, and removed the gag from her mouth.

"You filthy blood traitor Travers" she screamed. "You were supposed to be one of the Dark Lord's most faithful servants, yet you sell me out to some muggle."

"Lord Voldemort has been dead for almost two decades" said Wesker calmly. "There is no point remaining loyal to a corpse who lost."

"It's not just about living or dying" Pansy spat. "The Dark Lord stood for blood purity. He wanted to bring pure-bloods back to a new golden age."

"And yet pure-bloods are on the verge of extinction" responded Wesker. "Scorpius Malfoy is the only pure-blood of his generation."

"That's because I haven't had a child yet" replied Pansy angrily. "I will find a pure-blood, and then…"

The elevator doors opened, and a woman around Pansy's age got out. She had short brown hair, round glasses, bad teeth and was wearing a white lab coat.

"You wanted me Mr. Wesker?" Gardens asked, her voice containing a heavy lisp.

"Is this the girl that you wanted?"

Gardens leaned her face into Pansy's before beaming.

"Pansy" she said delightfully.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded Pansy.

"You don't remember me" Gardens said softly. "Nevertheless, this is Pansy Parkinson."

"Good; and as promised you will perform the experiments" said Wesker.

"Experiments?" Pansy stuttered, suddenly sounding more afraid.

"I want to perform some… inhumane experiments on magic users such as yourself" explained Wesker. "Dr. Gardens here agreed to do it, on the basis that you were used as the test subject."

"The experiments will be painful" added Gardens. "And once I am finished, I will dissect you, put stuffing in you, then hang you up in my home."

"Wha… what?" Pansy shrieked.

"You will not be unconscious during any of this" Gardens said gleefully.

"This is sick" Pansy screamed, then turned to Travers. "You're a Death Eater, why are you helping them?"

"Because I don't hold any allegiances to the deceased" replied Travers. "I am kept alive, because I am probably the most powerful Death Eater to have evaded captivity. You on the other hand are expendable."

"Please help me get her set up Travers" said Gardens. "I want to start the experimenting as soon as possible. I think you'll enjoy the pain I plan to put her in."

"You bitch!" Pansy roared. "I don't know who you are, but when I get out of these ropes, I will kill you."

Her three captors didn't say anything, but instead all laughed cruelly. Travers and Gardens grabbed her, and forced her back into the elevator. Wesker heard Pansy's screams go quieter and quieter, until at last, the office returned to silence.

"The side project is proceeding as planned" he said satisfactorily. "It will take a few years for it to come to fruition; but for now, let's see if the deal on my new jet has been completed yet."