“Dark lord, we are loyal! Is such a thing necessary?” Lucius asked.

“If you are, will it hurt to have such a precaution? Or are you perhaps afraid I will treat you unjustly?” Magnus asked.

“It will be a rather great privilege to be able to act without the constraint of an oath.” Lucius said. “But if done-” He began.

“It will be.” Magnus said. “Those who wish to leave may do so.”

None moved, not that Magnus expected them to. Leave? The death eaters had won, what would they gain by leaving aside from their deaths? “Who will be first?” He asked.

Bellatrix stepped forward. Magnus smiled. “No, Bellatrix. You will be last.” Her mouth opened to speak, but Magnus finished before she could. “I will need you as a witness to the vow.” He said.

Bellatrix flashed a pleased smile. “Of course, Dark Lord.” She said. Her body was still silver, but Magnus had made sure to give her a good voice this time. Her, and the others too. It echoed off the walls like a song, soft and melodious. More than unfitting for her character, but that made it pleasant to hear.

“Lucius.” Magnus said with a grin. “You go first.”

He hid his look of fear. Two hands met in the space above the meeting table, and Magnus spoke. “Do you, Lucius Malfoy, vow to obey the commands of the Dark Lord Voldemort to the best of your ability until your death, or release from the vow?” Magnus asked.

He swallowed. “I do.” A tongue of flame emerged from Bellatrix’s wand, wrapping around their arms like a rope. More followed, tiny bindings of golden flame holding both of their arms together, tighter and tighter, until it vanished. Of the bindings, only light scars remained.

Lucius flinched as if struck, and Magnus doubted it was from the pain. “Go to the ministry of magic, Lucius. You will be the new minister.” Magnus said. “Next.” He said, waving him off. Lucius dissaparated.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

One by one the death eaters made their vows and disappeared. Magnus saw that his hand had become scarred, covered in red welts and purple bruises. But that was nothing. He turned towards Bellatrix. “I require no vow from you. You are dismissed.” He said. The witch dissipated with a nod.

Magnus stood alone in the meeting room which should have held death eaters. He laughed, his high pitched voice bouncing off the walls. An underwhelming experience, if he were to tell the truth. But what should he have expected? These were mere storybook characters, after all.

There was still much for him to do. International wizarding communities could pose a threat, and then there was Dumbledore. Always there causing trouble anywhere and everywhere he walked. But for now, he would allow himself a treat. Silvery light gathered on the ground before him, forming a body like he had crafted for the other death eaters. The build was familiar to him, even if the memories were so distant it was almost like a dream. It was a dream, his dream, to finally see his father again. He was living it.

The muggles laying at the floor of the meeting room had not been awakened. They never were. They were always there, available for harvest in case another death eater died, or worse, Magnus was drained of power. Souls were useful things, enhancing spells and resurrecting the dead. Had he not known these were storybook characters, he may have felt sorry for them.

He pointed his wand. Reality faded away to a valley beneath the blue sky. A hidden place within one’s mind. The soul realm, his realm. His first few targets were simple to take. A rain of fire or shadow would be enough to crush their hopes of resistance. Young or old, man or woman, it didn’t matter in the least. Their wills were weak, so weak it was an insult to call them wills at all.

It was amusing sometimes, how the world seemed to make an effort to make them real. A girl picking flowers by a simple farm. Two lovers kissing beneath the shade of a tree. An old man telling his grandchildren stories atop a rocking chair by a fireplace. So many people, memories, souls. It was fascinating in a way, how storybooks brought characters to life with letters. Names were never even spoken, but they existed. Magnus could almost see them floating over the heads of the souls he was about to take. Not that he bothered to read them.

Bodies jerked, and fell. Their souls were his. Magnus laughed again. Easy, too easy. He began burning them. Invisible fire ran up their newly made bodies, floating in an ethereal grace. He heard them scream, memories and personality leaking away from them like paint after being heated. Magnus watched as their identities dripped away, leaving behind only empty canvases. But he didn’t need that, no.

He grasped at the energy their souls had left behind, the powerful force of the void that connected worlds. The building block of human souls, of intelligence. They gathered within the body Magnus created. Only three, not enough to last. But for what he needed to do, it was enough. Gathering thirteen souls for a full resurrection could be bothersome. Besides, he couldn’t risk Dumbledore finding out. No matter how well he hid them he would find them all, and Magnus would not know what to do if he did.

He saw the body jerk. So the soul had been recalled, good. He watched with some amusement as the soul rose, movement appearing on his new arms and legs. “Where am I?” He demanded in a gruff voice. A familiar voice.

“In a different universe, father. Did you miss me?” Magnus asked.

PART - 1 END