Good lord it's been a while hasn't it.
As most of you no doubt know by now, my old hard-drive died a fiery death, taking with it most if not all of my old notes and stories. After recovering from the near mental break-down this caused, I've decided to try and salvage a few of my older stories whose plot-lines I remember.
Case in point, Vergil's tenure as Harry's DADA Professor. This was never really intended to be a series, and the story was reaching it's climax anyway, so I'll try and continue where I left off, but forgive me if it's not the epic you were expecting for so long.
To say that Cornelius Fudge was distressed by the current situation would be an understatement akin to claiming the denizens of Pompeii were mildly inconvenienced by the eruption of Vesuvius.
It had all started when he received an missive from Amelia Bones calling for an Emergency Meeting of the Wizengammot in Courtroom Ten, citing only that there had been an 'incident' at Hogwarts.
While Fudge was hardly the sort to ignore such a missive in the first place, the fact that Hogwarts, and by extension Dumbledore, was involved served only to hasten the Minister, desperate as he was to get his hands on anything that might discredit the Headmaster given Dolores' apparent inability to do so.
Were it not for his absolute faith in her loyalty, Fudge's paranoia, which had only worsened as of late, might have led him to assume she had been compromised, that Dumbledore had somehow swayed her over to his side. As it were, Amelia's sudden call gave him hope that his most trusted aide had finally made a breakthrough.
With this in mind, you could probably imagine his elation when he arrived at Courtroom Ten to see not only Dumbledore, but Rubeus Hagrid and that damnable Professor Vergil standing off to the side under Auror Guard.
His elation soon gave way to shock, however, when Amelia called for the accused to be brought in, looking on in horrified disbelief as Dolores, along with an entire squad of Aurors that she'd assured him were loyal to his cause, were led forward in chains and placed before the Wizengammot.
"What is the meaning of this, Amelia-Director Bones?" Fudge demanded, correcting himself mid-sentance in the face of the monocle'd witch's piercing glare "I was under the impression that Dumbledore-"
"Headmaster Dumbledore is the one pressing the charges against Delores Umbridge and her accomplices, Minister." Madam Bones replied curtly, prompting Fudge to glare impotently at the smiling Headmaster "Charges I will proceed to list for the Wizengammot to hear. Let the record also show that, in accordance with the severity of the charges, and by my Authority as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the accused have been administered Veritaserum prior to trial."
Needless to say, Madam Bones' declaration earned utterances of surprise from the other Wizengammot members, surprise that quickly turned to shock, even outright anger as she continued to list off Delores' considerable offences, which the woman was forced to confess to thanks to having been dosed with Veritaserum, along with a few others that, quite frankly, horrified even Fudge.
And all the while, Dumbledore merely sat there, smiling at him like the cat that got the cream, shot the Dog, framed the Postman for it and modified the canary's will so it was the sole beneficiary.
Game. Set. And Match.
"I must confess I severely underestimated Umbridge." Vergil mused as he and Hagrid exited Court Room Ten, more-so to keep the clearly enraged Half-Giant from doing something stupid that would see him being tried next "I knew she was a fanatic, but to go to such lengths to secure Fudge's position..." he scoffed, remembering the look of horror on the Minister's face "Karma's certainly a bitch, isn't it?"
"They can both rot in Azkaban for all I care." Hagrid spat, the Half Giant looking particularly murderous as he stormed down the hallway, wanting to get as far away from the Courtroom, and Umbridge, as he possibly could "Sendin' Dementors after Harry...if Dumbledore hadn't stopped me-!"
"You'd be the one currently being tried for attempted murder." Vergil cut in. Not that he couldn't understand the Half-Giant's ire, he simply didn't see the point in getting angry over something they could do nothing about. Nothing conducive anyway, as he had no doubt that, had Hagrid assaulted Delores within the Court-Room, in front of the entire Wizengammot, Fudge would've found some way to spin things to his advantage.
As it were, while it was unlikely that Fudge would see the inside of a Prison cell, between Umbridge's confessions and the revelation of just how far she was willing to go to ensure his tenure, it was highly unlikely he'd be Minister for Magic for very long, a fact Vergil reminded Hagrid of.
"Good Riddance." the half-giant spat, though his earlier vehemence had faded somewhat. At the very least he didn't look like he was about to tap into his inner giant and go on a warpath, something Vergil honestly found disappointing, as he'd always wanted to test his skills against a giant "Maybe Dumbledore'll finally take the job...Merlin knows he's the only one with his head not shoved up his arse."
"Perhaps." Vergil agreed non-committed, as from what little he'd seen of the Headmaster, while more than capable of the role of Minister, held no desire to take up the reigns of power, preferring instead to act from behind the scenes, letting other people deal with the paperwork, only getting his hands dirty when it was clear his analogues were incapable of doing so themselves.
In short, he was normally the kind of person that Vergil, and doubtless Dante, despised the most. The 'Grand Schemer' who saw no qualms in using others to achieve his own ends, rather than relying on his own abilities. It was clear that Dumbledore had some plan for Potter, plans that doubtless involved a confrontation between the boy and Voldemort at some point, though unlike most schemers it seemed Dumbledore truly cared for Potter as more than a mere pawn in his game.
Either way, the outcome of Dumbledore and Voldemort's chess-game was none of his concern. While he would confess some interest in Potter's potential, at the end of the day the boy was only human. In the end, the boy would die, whether that be of old age or at the hands of Voldemort or the countless other enemies he made over the course of his life, Vergil did not particularly care unless it in some way prevented him from achieving his own goals.
'In which case, I will cut him down myself.' the son of Sparda vowed, the two of them clambering into one of the Golden Lifts, intending to leave the Ministry in order to get a drink at a nearby pub called the Leaky Cauldron, only to curse as Hagrid unintentionally jostled his arm, causing him to hit the wrong button.
"Sorry 'bout tha'." the Half-giant grimaced, rubbing his head awkwardly as the elevator began to descent deeper into the Ministry, Vergil waving off his apologies aside, only to quirk a brow as the elevator came to a stop, the cool female voice declaring they had arrived at the Department of Mysteries "Ere, where're you off to?"
"Just satiating my curiosity." Vergil assured the half-giant as he stepped out of the elevator and strode down the hall, his eyes locked on the plain black door at the end of the torch-lit corridor "Feel free to go on ahead, I'll catch up."
"I don' think we're allowed down here..." Hagrid whispered, actually whispered much to Vergil's intrigue, the Half-giant clearly unnerved as he followed the Son of Sparda down the hallway "Don' think e'en Dumbledore's allowed down here."
"And yet, Potter has been having frequent dreams of setting foot through these doors." Vergil pointed out, earning a look of shock from the groundskeeper "Seeing as how he has only ever set foot inside the Ministry once, and that time was under escort, it's highly likely he's been seeing this through Voldemort."
"Don't say his name!" Hagrid hissed, only to grimace as Vergil arched a brow at him coldly "Sorry, it's just, back during the war he did summat to his name that made it so speaking it would call Death Eaters down on yer head." he shook his head "Lotta good people died back then, so even after all this time, people're still too scared to say it. And now that he's back..."
"Then it's highly likely that he's using the spell to track down those who would defy him." Vergil deduced, honestly impressed with the would-be Dark Lord's ingenuity. After all, what better way to crush all resistance than to ensure people were too scared to refer to you by name?
That being said, the fact the entire Wizarding World could be cowed so easily only served to heighten his disdain for his mother's people. Mortal or not, Eva would not have allowed the threat of death to dampen her fire. Hell it was highly likely she'd have summoned the Dark Lord deliberately, just so she could blast him in the face when he came to confront her.
With this in mind, Vergil ignored Hagrid's insistence that they leave, choosing instead to stride forwards, the door swinging open, allowing entrance into a large, circular room of black marble, the wall set with identical, handle-less doors separated only by branches with blue-flame candles that caused the floor and ceiling to ripple like water, Hagrid's cry of alarm cutting off as the door slammed shut behind him.
In the Department of Mysteries...
'A security measure no doubt.' Vergil mused, the Son of Sparda tensing as a great rumbling noise filled the room, the circular wall beginning to rotate, faster and faster, the blue flames of the candles blurring into neon lines before just as quickly coming to a stop, relaxing his guard after it became clear nothing else was going to happen 'Albeit an incredibly simple one.'
While the members of the Department of Mysteries doubtless knew which door was which by heart, the rotating room was likely designed to waylay intruders from finding their objective. Against anyone else, it would likely have been a case of trial and error, with the room no doubt reshuffling every time they returned until they either went mad or were caught by security.
However, against Vergil, such a tactic was merely forestalling the inevitable. In each of Potter's dreams he had proceeded directly towards the Room of Prophecy once entering the Department, implying the door had been the one directly opposite to the entrance. The moment the room started rotating, Vergil had simply tracked the location of that door with his eyes until it had come to a halt.
'Let's see what's so important that you wanted Potter to come here.' he mused, pushing open the door in question, stepping into a room filled to the brim with clocks with a towering crystal bell jar at the far end, the light light dancing off it like diamond-dust.
Using Potter's account of his dreams as a guide, the Son of Sparda navigated his way through the line of desks towards the only door behind the bell, pausing briefly to watch the display within before pressing on.
'This must be the place.' he noted as he found himself in a massive chamber, like the interior of a church, only filled to the brim with shelves covered in dusty glass orbs that glimmered dully in the candlelight as he made his way down the rows, looking for number Ninety-Seven.
'You'd think they'd take better care of this place, considering the lengths they took to secure it.' he scoffed, only to come to a halt, his eyes narrowing as he peered down the row in question. "I have no time for games." he called out, pushing Yamato out of it's sheathe with his thumb as he glared into the shadows "Either show yourselves or be cut down where you cower."
"Cower?" a cold voice repeated, several robed men and women stepping out of the shadows, to confront him, their wands aimed at the ready "The Servants of the Dark Lord fear nobody."
"So you're Voldemort's so-called Death Eaters." Vergil noted, ignoring the hisses of the Death Eaters as he took in their appearance with apparently no concern for the myriad wands aimed at his person, a fact that clearly served to irritate them further "He must be so disappointed."
"Impudent wretch!" hissed a tall, gaunt-faced woman, her once-beautiful features framed by a wild mane of shiny dark hair as she sent a curse flying from her wand that Vergil dodged simply by tilting his head slightly out of the way "You dare speak the Master's name? You will be-!"
"Bellatrix." the man who spoke earlier cut in, silencing the women, though she continued to glare murderously at Vergil the entire time "I must confess, you have me at a disadvantage. You know who we are, yet have yet to identify yourself."
"Vergil," the half-devil returned without qualm, seeing no need to hide his identity from the man. After all, even if, by some fluke one of them managed to escape the coming confrontation, it's not as if Vergil had any loved ones the Dark Lord could strike at in order to get back at him "Son of Sparda."
"Ah, Dumbledore's latest errand boy." the masked man chuckled, a sentiment shared by the rest of the Death Eaters, right up until he was stabbed in the chest by a summoned sword, his fellow Death Eaters looking on in shock as he fell to the floor with a choked scream.
"I am nobody's errand boy." Vergil retorted, ignoring the screech of one of the masked women as she knelt beside the fallen form of the impaled Death Eater "So what brings you here, servants of 'He Who Flies From Death'? Has your master grown tired of stalking under-aged schoolboys?" he scoffed "Honestly, I don't know which is more pathetic, his unhealthy obsession with Potter or that he fears the boy so much he sends his minions to face him in his stead."
"Honestly, it's no wonder he keeps getting defeated if you're the best he has to work with." Vergil sneered "Tell me honestly, how many of you betrayed him because you honestly believed he died, and how many did so because you found out the truth? That for all his preaching of Blood Purity, he was nothing more than the Half-Blood Spawn of a Muggle and a Squib."
"You Lie!" Bellatrix shrieked, heedless of her peers' attempts to keep her silent as she whipped her wand at the son of Sparda again "You filthy half-blood son of a whore! You dare to speak-!"
Whatever else she was about to say was cut off as a summoned sword impaled her through the mouth with such force it lifted her off her feet and down the hall, her fellow Death Eaters whipping around in alarm just in time to see her pinned to the far wall like a morbid butterfly, only to pale as they found themselves caged in by multiple identical blades.
"You flock to him like flies because, like all humans, you lack the power to carve out your own destiny." Vergil coldly declared "That's the problem with men like Voldemort: they're content to sit like a spider in their web, manipulating others to fight their battles for them because they lacks the power to do so themselves.
As he spoke, the Son of Sparda allowed his Demonic Power to rise from within, the Death Eaters, unable to back away due to the wall of blades at their backs, gaping in horror at the man, no, the monster that was stood before them, infinitely more terrifying than their Master could ever hope of being.
"Even his name, that auspicious title he made for himself, betrays his cowardice." Vergil continued coldly, his voice beginning to distort "He claims to 'master' death, when in truth he whimpers in fear of it, knowing that at the end of the day, no one will remember him after he is dead." he raised Yamato for all to see, slowly unsheathing the blade so they could see their own reflections in it's gleaming edge "But rest assured, Death Eaters, that even in death, You Will Not Forget This Devil's Power."
And We'll leave off there...
I trust this was well worth the wait. Apologies for the cliff-hanger but it's the best I could do with my original notes gone.