Dark Lord Rising

Chapter 39: With a new day dawns.

Rating: M…you have been warned! I don't own it and this is done for enjoyment, not profit.

Steam poured from the untouched mug of black tea on the corner of the paper strewn desk; its comforting warmth wasted as Cornelius Fudge continued to flip through the documents that Lucius had given him the other day. In the hustle and bustle of the completion of the TriWizard Tournament and the insane accusations that the Dark Lord had returned, he had simply forgotten about them until now.

Oh, how he had wished he had read this before the conclusion of that blasted tournament! The packet of information from Lucius had contained detailed notes about Sirius Black's escape, his unregistered animagus form, and Dumbledore's machinations for the past few years as a precursor to taking the post of Minister of Magic for himself!

Perspiration glistened on his upper lip as he continued to read through the details of Dumbledore's subtle changes to policies and laws that Cornelius had worked so hard to get passed into law. Changes that would bring about his downfall from the Ministers post unless he took swift action to counteract the political assassination attempt.

Fudge pushed himself away from his desk and poked his head out of his office and spoke condescendingly to his secretary, "Fetch Delores and a fresh tea set, then clear my morning schedule." Without waiting for a response, he closed his door with a snap and strode back to his desk and flopped down into his chair with a sigh.


While Fudge's morning was turning out to be an exercise in political maneuvering interspersed with moments of blind panic, Rita Skeeter was having quite the opposite start to a new day. She had received an invitation from Bathilda Bagshot to discuss some very delicate matters the day before and had eagerly replied that she would be at the revered historian's house first thing in the morning.

Her morning got even better when Bathilda dropped the proverbial bombshell that Albus Dumbledore had been Gellert Grindelwalds' gay lover. She confessed to Rita that she had been harboring that secret at Dumbledore's request because of her love for his deceased sister, Arianna, but that she could no longer keep her silence because of her guilty conscience at being related to Gellert and not doing anything to stop his descent into madness.

As Bathilda continued to regale her guest with indiscretions from Dumbledore's youth, Rita's quick quotes quill was going a kilometer a minute over pages and pages of parchment. When Ms. Bagshot began producing photos of the two infamous wizards together, along with private correspondence, Skeeter shuddered in orgasmic glee. Originally, she had thought to write a brief article for the Daily Prophet but with all of this information she was going to publish a book instead! A book that would earn her millions of galleons and forever engrave her name in the annals of reporters everywhere!


The mid morning sun streaming in through the window right into the closed eyes of Albus Dumbledore woke him from his pain induced slumber. Blinking owlishly, the headmaster slowly rolled to his side and sat up on the edge of his bed. Gingerly, he stood up and began to shuffle towards the loo only to stop in mid stride with a surprised look on his face.

Tentatively, he bent double at the waist and attempted to touch his toes. The normal stiffness and pains associated with this movement were noticeably absent and when Albus stood up again, he had a huge smile on his face. He began moving his arms and legs in various directions and performing a multitude of different stretches before letting out a whoop of laughter. All of his normal aches and pains that had been catching up to him were gone! With a spring in his step and a tune on his lips, he walked briskly to the loo to get ready for the new day.

As he started to disrobe for his weekly bath, he looked down and let out a startled, "Ooh!" Slowly, as if it would disappear if he touched it, he let his hand drift downwards to say hello to a long lost friend. "Oh, my!" he exclaimed as he began to reacquaint himself with, himself. Lost in his rediscovered youth, Dumbledore's ministrations became more frantic and with a last tug he howled out, "Gelle!" before painting the magical mirror with his pearly essence.

Unnoticed by Dumbledore, Fawkes sat rooted in his bird bath in the corner of the loo watching the entire spectacle with a look of horrified terror etched onto his avian face. Unable to cope with the images carved into his brain, Fawkes did something he hadn't done in more than a century; he had an unscheduled burning day.


Staring into a much cleaner mirror in a nicely appointed bathroom of a London Row house, Remus Lupin tentatively reached up and touched his teeth; his still elongated canine teeth. To make matters worse, his eyes also remained a brilliant shade of amber. "Oh bugger!" he mumbled as he began putting toothpaste on his toothbrush while staring at his own face.

While he brushed his teeth on autopilot, his formidable intellect was working overtime on the changes in his body. As he took a mental inventory, he noticed that his sense of smell, eyesight, and hearing were all sharper this morning. However, the biggest difference was that he could no longer feel the rage of the wolf inside of him howling to break free.

Startled by his discovery, Remus stopped brushing his teeth and focused his mind inward to where he knew the beast within him dwelled while toothpaste foam began to dribble down his chin and onto his hand. As his mind reached the area where the savage beast should be, he felt nothing; and yet everything, at the same time. A great sense of calm enveloped his curious mind and instinctively he knew what to do.

With a push from his magic, his bones began to shift and fur sprouted all over his quickly changing body. When the change was complete, Lupin stood stock still staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. His memories of the change while under the influence of the wolfsbane potion allowed him to see the differences in his current form versus his prior feral one.

Where his feral werewolf form had been much lankier and smaller, his current body was larger and much more muscular. His facial features were more of a cross between a man and wolf than before and his fur had changed to a much darker brown, almost black, instead of the sandy brown it was before.

Willing his magic to revert him back to human, Remus noticed that the transformation, while uncomfortable, no longer hurt and was much faster now. With a grin that wouldn't look out of place on a Cheshire cat, he finished cleaning up in the bathroom and headed down to the kitchen for a spot of breakfast with a side of mischief.


Not really a morning person, Sirius Black stumbled and shuffled into the kitchen with his eyes barely open. He noticed a dark shape sitting at the breakfast table and muttered something that may or may not have been a greeting before continuing to pour himself a cup of coffee. Snagging a pastry that Dobby must have left on the counter, Sirius flopped ungracefully into the chair opposite Remus and began spooning copious amounts of sugar into his coffee.

Before he could ask, the cream was pushed across the table to him and he mindlessly picked it up and poured far too much into his cup of what could no longer be called coffee. After a few sips of his cup of 'coffee', Sirius was beginning to feel a bit more awake and alert. Realizing that Moony was far too quiet for being such a morning person, he looked up just as he was about to take a sip from his drink.

His brain froze as he tried to comprehend the massive werewolf sitting at the table across from him as if it was an everyday occurrence while reading the paper. "Was that the London Times?" Coffee began pouring onto the table from his tipped cup as Sirius continued to stare slack jawed in absolute terror.

Finally, his brain seemed to reengage and he let out an unmanly shriek of fear while franticly backing away from the table. In his haste to escape, Sirius got tangled up in the legs of the chair and toppled over backwards. Panicked, he shot to his feet just as Dora burst into the room with her wand drawn followed closely by John and Annabelle.

Looking around the room for any sign of danger, and finding none, Dora blurted out in confusion, "What's going on in here?"

Sitting at the table munching on a scone and sipping his tea, Remus answered calmly, "I've got no idea. Sirius just started screaming blue murder while he was drinking his cup of Jane."

Indignant, Sirius shouted, "Cup of…Wait a minute!" and jabbed an accusing finger at the still seated Remus before continuing, "There was a great big bloody werewolf sitting at the table just a minute ago!"

"Cor, blimey! It's weeks to the full moon you dolt! And it's morning, not nighttime!" Dora huffed in annoyance as her eyes narrowed slightly as she took a closer look at the perfectly composed Remus. With a flick of her wrist, the table was clean and the mug repaired, before she flopped into the recently vacated chair while John and Annabelle sat down much more gracefully.

Remus let out a chuckle and said softly, "Well, you two are definitely related by the way you abuse the chairs around here." Looking back up at Sirius, he asked innocently, "Too much sauce last night, Padfoot?"

Sirius was now standing with his back against the far counter, his heart still hammering against his ribcage, as he tried to figure out what had just happened. "Wait; what?" he replied before blurting, "I didn't drink that much last night!" before continuing indignantly, "What the hell is going on?"

Gazing intently at Lupin, Annabelle said, "You look different this morning, Remus."

Turning to look at her fully for the first time, he held her gaze and gave a rueful smile but said nothing.

Being male, and usually clueless about such things, both Sirius and John didn't notice the difference in their friend but Dora and Annabelle blurted out simultaneously, "Your eyes! Your teeth! What happened?"

His ghost of a smile got a little bigger and he said simply, "I'm not sure, but I don't think I'm going to change at the next full moon unless I really want to."

Shocked by his friend's statement, Sirius came back over to the table to get a closer look at the changes in his friend. Stumped, he simply said, "That doesn't make sense."

Shrugging, Remus pushed back from the table slightly and said, "I don't understand it either, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth."

Curious, and being a big science fiction geek, John asked eagerly, "Well, can you show us?"

Remus' silent reply was the arching of one eyebrow before he quickly began morphing right before their eyes.

As the fur began sprouting on Remus, Sirius and Dora backed up quickly and drew their wands with identical looks of dread. The change took seconds and when it was complete, Remus was gone and sitting in his chair was a beast that looked well over two hundred kilos and somewhere around two and a half meters tall covered in dark fur and muscle.

Careful not to startle anyone, the werewolf calmly reached forward and picked up the last bite of the scone and popped it into its mouth and began to chew.

Too shocked for words, Dora went to sit back down and completely missed her chair while Sirius stuttered softly, "But, but, that's impossible!"

Annabelle reached a hand halfway across the table and asked softly, "May I see your hand?"

With a nod of acceptance, Remus placed his massive paw on the table palm up and watched with interest as Annabelle began moving his fingers and slowly turning his hand over to inspect the back while she mumbled, "Amazing!"

Gathering her wits about her, Dora climbed into her chair and took a long look at Remus in his new werewolf form and mentally cataloging the differences between the old one and the new. After a few seconds of hesitation, she grabbed his other hand and began a very similar inspection to Annabelle's. Finished with her inspection, she looked into his eyes and asked softly, "Change back please?"

His body rippled momentarily before he reverted to his natural form leaving four stunned individuals sitting or standing in the kitchen staring in wonder at him. Blushing slightly, Remus said, "Any more tricks you lot want me to perform or can I finish my breakfast now?"


Draco was standing at the small corner sink wearing just his shirt as he tried to do something that was beneath his station, clean his own clothes. He was so engrossed that he didn't hear the door to his cell open over his mutterings about having to clean like a common muggle.

The sound of the lock snapping shut brought him out of his funk and he spun around holding his now dripping clothes in front of his naked lower body only to come face to face with what he was sure was part troll.

Before Draco could speak, the giant of a man rumbled, "'Ello boysie. Aren't you a pret'e one?" while stepping forward and pulling the wet clothes away and tossing them into the corner of the cell. Leering at Draco's attempts to cover himself, the drunk man slurred, "'Ere I was lookin' for a bit o' spare when those bleedin' aurors showed up and tossed me in 'ere."

Ignoring Draco's increasing struggles, the large man bodily tossed the blonde boy onto the lower bunk and began removing his robes. Once he was naked, he climbed on top of the petrified boy and slurred joyfully, "No sense passin' up a perfectly good trip down bournville boulevard."

Seeing the abject look of terror in the boys' eyes, he smiled his gapped-tooth smile and said huskily, "Don' you worry your pret'e lil 'ead, ole Nigel's gonna give you a right good rogering!"

More than one person in the prison could have sworn there was a pig in the cell block due to all the squealing that morning.


Alecto Carrow was officially bored out of her mind. Lucius and Amycus had both left about thirty minutes before to make their report to the Dark Lord, leaving her to mind the shop while they were away.

Too much tea and not enough activity left her antsy and her bladder full. Unable to stand the pressure anymore, she deserted her post behind the counter and dashed for the loo to relieve the pressure in her bladder. She reached the loo and began pulling up her robes only to begin cursing up a storm, "Oh, bugger it all to hell!" Grumbling, she began trying to unbutton her trousers while muttering, "How the hell do those stupid blokes stand this?" Giving it up as a bad job, she violently yanked her pants down and sat on the toilet like a woman instead of standing like the polyjuiced man she was impersonating.

Alecto was so absorbed in her mini drama that she failed to hear the chime above the door sound or the sudden absence of sound beyond the partially open door to the loo.


Ted Tonks was crouched under a disillusionment charm in a, filthy, urine soaked, alley across the street from the wand maker's shop in Knockturn Alley taking his turn staking out the premises while they came up with a plan to take out everyone in the shop quietly. Luck shined on him when he saw two of the three people he was sure were Death Eaters inside the building apparate away after a brief discussion.

Realizing that he wasn't going to get a better chance, he darted across the street and after checking that it was empty, he slipped into the shop and cast a silencing ward and another quick spell to locate the third person. His last spell alerted him that his quarry was somewhere in the back at the end of a very narrow hallway.

Standing partially in the hall with his wand drawn and pointed at the door, Ted waited a few seconds as he listened for any sounds before he began to creep forward. He heard the distinct sigh and the tinkle of someone using the toilet and quickly closed the distance to the slightly open door.


Letting out a sigh of relief and pleasure, Alecto leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees while she waited for her bladder to empty. "What the hell?" she mumbled when she discovered that she couldn't hear anything from the front of the shop; not even the usual noises from the street. Realizing that something was wrong, she began to fumble with her clothes to reach the wand that was now trapped in the bundle at her ankles.


Ted heard the muttered curse from the loo and a sudden rustling of clothes. Not wanting to lose his advantage, he swiftly approached the partially open door and kicked it as hard as he could while keeping his wand pointed into the room.

The door blew inward with tremendous force and hit the man on the toilet right in the head causing him to drop his wand into the bowl and crash backwards into the tank of the toilet.

Time seemed to freeze momentarily as they stared into each other's eyes before the man on the toilet drove his hand into the bowl to reach for his wand. Before his wand could clear the toilet seat, the bright red flash of a reducto spell left Ted's wand and hit the man right between the eyes.

The spray of blood, bone, and brain matter was spectacular. Ted was covered in gore almost as badly as the floor, walls, and ceiling of the small loo. Wiping something disgusting from his eyes, Ted slowly reached down and lifted the right sleeve of the man's shirt to find what he was expecting, the Dark Mark of Voldemort.

Realizing that he needed to get out of their quickly, Ted moved back into the main part of the shop and reapplied the disillusionment charm before slipping out the door and apparating back to Grimmauld Place.


Lucius and Amycus were finishing up their report to the Dark Lord over a marvelous breakfast courtesy of the remaining Malfoy House Elves.

Voldemort wiped his pale lips on the starched, embossed, white linen napkin before folding it in half and setting it down on his plate. The silence hung heavy in the air as the Dark Lord peered over his now steepled fingers at his two increasingly nervous minions. Leaning forward slightly, he tapped his index fingers together rhythmically for a few seconds before hissing menacingly, "Let me summarize. You left Alecto," his gaze locked onto Amycus and he continued with a sneer, "your precious sister, all alone in a wand shop to set an ambush for the aurors or some of Dumbledore's people."

Inwardly, Lucuis cringed at the all too pleasant tone coming from his Lord. It was a tone he knew well and it promised pain if Voldemort wasn't happy with the answers he was about to receive.

Stupidly, Amycus didn't notice the danger signs and said simply, "Yes, Milord. She will be more than capable of handling things while we are away."

"I see." Voldemort said pleasantly as he leaned back in his chair and slowly pushed it back from the table a few inches before continuing in a conversational tone, "And how well do you think she will withstand an assault if she is ambushed or simply overwhelmed by superior numbers?"

Alarm bells were ringing in Lucius' head as he listened to the Dark Lord while trying to discretely move his chair further away from Amycus. A brief glare from the Dark Lord halted his movement and served to increase his nervousness.

Amycus sat there like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out, as he processed the words of his master. Panicked, he blurted, "Milord! May I go back to the shop to ensure that she is unharmed?"

Voldemort made a dismissive gesture with his hand while saying, "Go and check on your sister. I will send Lucius along after we finish our discussion."

Alecto practically ran from the room in his haste to check on his sister. Once he was gone, Voldemort turned to Lucius and hissed menacingly, "I'm sure Alecto is already dead. Her death can be used to our advantage though." Leaning forward in his chair slightly, he leaned his forearms on the table and practically growled, "I want you to stoke Amycus' grief and rage and then point him at Amelia Bones. She has become a problem that we need to deal with."

Sensing a clear dismissal, Lucius got up slowly from the table and after a quick nod to his lord, he headed for the exit to begin his new task, thankful that he had escaped his master's wrath. Just as he reached the dining room door, Voldemort casually threatened, "Do not make another monumental blunder in judgment again. We can salvage this situation because we got lucky."


Aberforth Dumbledore was on his way over for to the Three Broomsticks for his weekly breakfast with Rosmerta when he noticed that the door was locked and there was a faint odor of burnt meat in the air. Worried, he drew his wand and unlocked the door. He had barely crossed the threshold when the smell of death hit him full in the face. Fortunately, there were only a few bodies strewn throughout the demolished interior of Hogsmeade's most popular establishment.

Very carefully, he moved into the room to check for any survivors. As he neared the bar, he heard a wet ripping noise followed by the unmistakable sounds of chewing. Fearing the worst, Aberforth held his wand at the ready as he stepped around the edge of the smoldering wreckage of the bar, only to come face to face with an inferious instead of the vampire he was expecting.

A moan of despair escaped his lips when he realized that the animated corpse had been feasting upon the remains of his on again off again girlfriend, Rosmerta. The beast turned at the sound of Aberforth's grief and stared momentarily before charging with alarming speed for a corpse.

Instantly, a bright orange flame erupted from the tip of his wand and engulfed the oncoming inferius in its fiery embrace. Tears poured down his face as he watched the body of his sister die for a second time. Once the body was reduced to ashes, he sank to his knees and howled in anguish as the pain from his sister's death hit him all over again.


Hannah Abbot was the summer holiday maid for Tom at the Leaky Cauldron and it was her first morning on the job. She had already cleaned two of the rooms on the third floor of the inn and was making her way towards the last room on that floor. Pushing her cart down the hall, she hoped that this guest had at least left a tip for her, unlike the guests from the other two rooms. "Cheap bastards." She mumbled while knocking on the door. When she didn't receive an answer after a few seconds, she pulled out her ring of keys and called out, "Maid service!" and unlocked the door.

With practiced ease, she bumped the door open with her hip while backing into the room dragging her cleaning cart. Once she had the cart in the room, she called out again, "Maid service!" and turned towards the bed, only to come face to face with two naked men.

It took her brain a moment to catch up with what her eyes were seeing before she screamed.

When Gregory Goyle, Sr. heard the scream, he shifted his body slightly to get a better look before returning to his task at hand. His movement exposed the lifeless eyes of Severus Snape and when Hannah's gaze locked on her former professors, she began screaming in earnest. The rhythmic slapping of Goyle's thighs against Snape's buttocks could be heard clearly every time Hannah paused to take a breath before screaming some more.

Tom, the innkeeper, burst into the room with his wand drawn and a curse on his lips, ready to protect his niece at all costs. The curse died on his tongue when he took in the macabre scene in front of him. He had seen a lot of strange things in his forty plus years of running the Leaky Cauldron but this was a first. Composing himself, he silently stunned the larger man and watched in morbid fascination as he slumped onto the back of the obviously deceased Severus Snape.

Not wanting to contaminate the crime scene, Tom gently guided Hannah out of the room before closing and locking the door behind him. She was hyperventilating but otherwise looked to be unharmed so he gently sat her down on the steps before sending a messenger spell to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Unsure of what to say, he silently wrapped his arm around his niece's shoulder and rocked her while they waited for the aurors to arrive.


Mundungus Fletcher was trying to sleep off a drunk in the ministry holding cells when the incessant squealing woke him up for the second time that morning. Grumbling and stumbling to the door of his cell, he removed his shoe and began pounding on the cell door while yelling, "Will somebody please tell the moron in the cell next to me to shut up! A man needs his sleep, you know!"

Satisfied, Dung stumbled back to his cot and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.


Auror Trainee Kenneth Worthington IV was a pureblood with high aspirations but not enough gold to get far in the corrupt environment of the Ministry of Magic. He was a firm believer in pureblood supremacy and believed that with the right connections, he would rise to the top of his department in just a few years.

When the Malfoy boy was hauled into the cells the other day, he did everything he could to make sure the boy's stay was comfortable. He gave him a private cell while making sure that he didn't do anything to offend the future head of the Malfoy Family.

So when the drunk in the corner cell began ranting about squealing noises coming from the cell next to him, young Mr. Malfoy's cell, he put down his morning paper and tea and went to make sure the esteemed young man was okay.

He opened the cell door and stopped dead in his tracks. Draco was curled up in the corner of the lower bunk pointing his wand at a piglet that was running in circles squealing in a panic while trying to find a way out.

Realizing that someone must have played a joke on the poor boy, Kenneth quickly stunned the disgusting animal and picked it up to remove it from the cell. Concerned, he turned to the boy and asked gently, "Are you okay, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco had been in a blind panic when the brute of a man was about to mount him like some common tart that he almost forgot about the holdout wand that he kept up his sleeve that the auror didn't take when he was thrown inside. Unable to articulate a spell, he jabbed his wand at his attacker and his magic responded to his desperation and transfigured the man into a piglet.

He had curled into the corner of the bed and covered himself with the sheets while keeping his wand pointed at the pig in case his transfiguration failed. Suddenly, he realized that the squealing had stopped and the kind auror that helped him maintain as much of his dignity as possible was standing part way in the cell holding an unconscious pig.

Clearing his throat, Draco managed to sound as haughty as possible and half drawled, half shrieked, "No, I'm not alright! Some wanker threw a squealing pig from the kitchens in my cell!"

Blushing at the mild rebuke, Auror Worthington said hurriedly, "I'm so sorry, Milord. I'll make sure this pig finds its way back to the kitchens and report this to my superiors."

Smiling inwardly, Draco conciliatorily said, "Please forgive my rudeness. Someone just wanted to play a joke on me, I'm sure. No one needs to get into trouble on my account."

"As you wish, Sir." Kenneth answered with a smile before asking, "Do you need anything else to make you comfortable?"

Draco took a look at the pig slash would be rapist in the aurors' arms and said simply, "Perhaps a bacon sandwich and a spot of tea wouldn't be a bad way to start my morning after such a rude awakening."