Chapter 28 - A Picture's worth...

Wrapped in heavy robes, with their hood pulled up against the freezing November wind in Hogsmead, no one gave the huddled figure a second glance while Voldemort dropped a knut into the pot and took a copy of today's Prophet.

After a lot of thought, Voldemort had made a rather ballsy move and set up home in the Shrieking Shack. Peter had explained its previous use, and Voldemort knew the werewolf in question was currently teaching in Italy - not Hogwarts. Laying out the newspaper, it wasn't exactly difficult to discover what the magical pull had been. While delighted to read about the total cock-up Dumbledore had made of everything, and it looked as if this time he would be taken to task for it too, what really really upset Voldemort was that Tom M Riddle being entered was being treated as almost as big a joke as Martin Miggs name being spat out of that goblet.

This changed everything. There was no way this body's magic could significantly be increased in that short a timeframe, but not competing would see the body lose whatever magic it contained. Since this body was mostly a magical construct, he would be reduced to a wandering spirit once more. Voldemort desperately needed to confirm the continued existence of any remaining horcruxes. Getting access to the diadem inside Hogwarts could be incredibly risky, while recovering the locket from inside the cave would be a right pain in the arse.

Voldemort decided to wait a few days and see what the fallout of this was before making any drastic moves. The entire thing might even yet be cancelled. No, this was not cowardice at what Voldemort might find there - or more terrifyingly not find, merely being cautious with the current situation.

At that moment, a meeting was taking place in the Minister of Magic's office that would kick that caution into touch, and see Voldemort's anger know no bounds.

-oOoOo-

"I want to know what you're playing at, Fudge. It's all over the Ministry that the Dark Lord received a new body last night - and yet you won't let us print that."

Looking at the Editor-in-Chief of the Prophet - and the small team of people he had brought with him to this planned meeting now all crammed into his office - Cornelius actually smiled. He knew these people were going to fall over themselves to accept what he was offering here.

"You publishing that, without any of the other facts, would start a mass panic amongst the witches and wizards of Britain. What I'm offering you here is ALL the facts, and a printing timeline I'm sure you're going to like."

Recognising a sales pitch when he saw one, Barnabas waited to see what the Ministry was selling before making any further comment.

"Tomorrow, I would like you to do a background piece on one Tom M Riddle, AKA Lord Voldemort. His squib mother, Merope Gaunt, whose Muggle husband, Tom Riddle, left her when she stopped administering the love potion she enthralled him with. She died giving birth to her son, living only long enough to name the now orphan after his Muggle father. Tom grew up in a Muggle orphanage, before - after turning eleven - being contacted in said orphanage by Albus Dumbledore to attend Hogwarts..." Cornelius had been reading from rather a thick file that he now closed over. "Interested?"

The Editor-in-Chief was well aware the Quibbler had done an exposé piece on Riddle. Here though was a Ministry sanctioned version. Unless that folder was stuffed with Fudge's sandwiches for his lunch, there was clearly a lot more material here for the Prophet to sink its teeth into. Barnabas attempted to play it cool. "And what of his rebirth? How long would you want us to sit on a story that will affect all our lives?"

Fudge could see his fish was hooked, time to reel him in. "My intention here is not to deceive the public, rather to prepare them for the news to come. If your newspaper prints this story tomorrow, it will instantly strip Voldemort of most of his mystique - and fear. That will set them up for a full disclosure of his rebirth the following day."

"Full disclosure?"

"If you agree to this deal, Madam Bones here will consent to you viewing her memory of the event in a departmental pensieve."

Barnabas would sell his first born for that, it would be the scoop to top all other scoops - selling every copy of the Prophet they could print for days. All eyes now switched to Amelia, who was of course ready for them.

"What I will say up front is the group I was part of were there with a specific mission in mind, the rescue of Arthur Weasley. Only when he was free and in our care was the fight taken to Voldemort. As it's my memory, you will only see outlines of those involved in the rescue. This was a special disillusionment spell cast by Lord Potter, please don't speculate on those others involved."

Barnabas Cuffe had one last question before he bit their arm off. "What of this Prophecy concerning Lord Potter and the Dark Lord? How will that play into this tournament?"

"Are you forgetting that Lord Potter is also entered into this tournament? Both must compete, or lose their magic." Giving her words time to sink in, Amelia then set the presentation pensieve in the middle of the Minister's desk before adding her memory strand to it.

"I don't mind playing this a couple of times but please take notes. This memory will be going back into my head before I leave this office."

She'd started the memory just after Bill had regained control of himself so everyone saw a one-handed Pettigrew adding Arthur's blood to the cauldron. The screams startled everyone, but not nearly as much as the body that became visible as the steam cleared. When the body called for its wand, one of the outlines shifted into a very confident Lord Potter. Again as Harry intended, all eyes were on him and the new watchers also missed Arthur disappearing. The body trying to dive behind the headstone and being wounded before apparating away actually drew a few cheers. The memory ran a couple of seconds longer than Amelia intended, ending with a now visible Hermione wrapped in Harry's arms as they kissed.

"Some background information. Arthur had been kidnapped from outside his home, immediately after returning there from his job in the Ministry. As you clearly heard Pettigrew say, the blood had to be forcibly taken from an enemy. Arthur was portkeyed to the Potter Institute after his rescue, where he received first class care. He had already intended to take a couple of days holiday for a family matter - the betrothal announcement will probably appear in your newspaper in the next few days. As you also heard Lord Potter say, Pettigrew cut his own hand off as part of the ritual. Lord Potter made himself visible to stop Voldemort getting a wand in his hand, and have all eyes on him so none of the bad guys spotted Arthur being rescued. I will take some questions now, then let you view the memory again."

"I guess it was no surprise to see Miss Granger once more at her Betrothed's side, those two are redefining the phrase 'power couple'. Assuming that was Miss Grangers' parents firing those whatever-you-call-them too, it's hardly a wonder Voldemort got out of there as quickly as they could. I understand completely what the Ministry is trying to do here, and fully support you. After watching that, I'm more confident than ever that Voldemort is finished in Britain. Can I send a photographer with a specialised camera for pensieves later, I want to see if they can take a picture of Voldemort we can use. The Prophet is not PlayWizard though, so you can see our difficulties with that."

It was one of his reporters who made a quip that had all of them laughing. "I don't see a front page with a full frontal of Granny Voldemort selling many copies boss."

Amongst the laughter, Editor and Minister shared a glance that spoke volumes. Using the moniker 'Granny Voldemort' would end all the 'you-know-who' nonsense once and for all. That name would stick like glue and forever destroy the many years of fear the old moniker generated.

Amelia played her memory one more time as quills raced along parchment, trying to record whatever they'd missed the first time.

-oOoOo-

For Lyndi, walking into their dining area for dinner that first night, the difference between the Institute and Hogwarts couldn't have been any more pronounced. That was just a normal Tuesday night in the Institute, yet the atmosphere far outstripped Hogwarts on its biggest feast night of the year - with two other schools visiting as well.

The reporter in Lyndi keeps screaming at her that this was all some sort of elaborate scam, but so far she'd found the atmosphere the same at every meal. Even at breakfast, everyone seemed to be looking forward to their day. Looking around, she spotted Remus Lupin - who had accompanied her to the Institute's cinema last evening - so Lyndi headed toward that table.

Remus of course noticed the young, beautiful brunette the instant she'd entered. Lyndi was certainly someone you noticed, petit, smart as a whip, very witty and way out of his league. Knowing the last part, and also that he would never see her again when she left the Institute on Sunday, allowed Remus to relax and just be himself. He rose to greet Lyndi.

"Good morning, Miss Lang, I hope you slept well after watching your first movie?"

"Yes, and once more I must apologise for screaming in your ear. Those vehicles crashing into each other at that speed was terrifying."

Smiling, Remus introduced her to the others sitting at the table. Two sets of twins, Lavender, Ginny, Neville and Luna. Lyndi had her ever present notebook out, already preparing to ask Fred and George how they managed to be the only over-age students in the Institute, when Remus's introduction of Luna had her head in a spin.

"...and this young lady is Luna Lovegood, the person who suggested building his own school to Harry."

"That sounds like a story I simply must hear. Do you mind being interviewed Luna?"

"Not at all, I'm a reporter for the Quibbler in my spare time. Harry has invited my father here this weekend as well, so he can cover your radio broadcast in the press too."

"Fabulous, you'll know exactly what I'm looking for then." Lyndi's quill scratched along her notebook as Luna told her story.

"Just before the end of summer term at Hogwarts, Harry, Hermione and I walked into the Hogwarts Great Hall - where Professor Snape physical assaulted Harry. Snape ripped Harry's sleeve right off his robes as he tried to drag him away for detention. This was done in front of the entire school, yet Dumbledore refused to take any action."

Lyndi took a quick glance around the other students sitting at the table, all were nodding in agreement with Luna's story.

"My Godbrother was never going to stand for that, so he informed Dumbledore that he would be hiring a tutor for potions to teach us and our friends. Learning that Professor Lupin had been forced to resign, Harry was not going to suffer another Dumbledore disaster in defence. With History of Magic and Divination having atrocious teachers too, Harry was looking at hiring tutors for half his Hogwarts classes. I suggested that he might as well open his own school, a couple of months later the Potter Institute opened its doors."

Lyndi had a colour system for marking her notes. Gold was something she would certainly use, silver were things she might use, depending on how many gold items she had. Bronze was pure background material, held in reserve in case she needed to fill any silences left by people clamming up when Lyndi held her microphone in front of them.

Luna's story was pure gold, but she wanted to clarify a few points. "Harry's your Godbrother?"

Reaching out, Luna held Neville's hand as she answered. "Three witches at Hogwarts became best friends. So much so, they stood as Godmother for each other's children. Harry's mum was my Godmother, my mum was Neville's while his took on the same position for Harry. Learning that brought us all closer."

Noticing their rings as both clasped hands, Lyndi could only smile at that. She was wondering how to approach the 'Lupin forced to resign' part, as the Professor in question was sitting beside her - and surrounded by students. Neville solved her problem by coming right out and saying it. Lyndi was actually beginning to believe there weren't any secrets at the Institute.

"Snape broadcast Professor Lupin's furry little problem all over Hogwarts, knowing certain influential parents would complain bitterly about it and demand that he be sacked. It's quite funny actually, now those exact same parents are trying everything they know to get their sons and daughters into the institute - where he's a professor and they have no influence whatsoever. We all love his lessons and, a couple of days a month, he leaves the Institute while Lord Black covers his classes. It's just another side to the Institute, everybody knows and nobody cares."

Again, Lyndi noted the nods of agreement, but the girl introduced as Lavender had more to say. "The Institute gets labelled as elite, but that's only down to the size of Pi. None of us sitting here feel 'elite', just very, very lucky. At Hogwarts, I shared a common room with Harry and a dorm with Hermione - though neither would probably have classed me as a friend then. Pav and I were the gossip queens of Gryffindor, and quite proud of that. Coming here has literally changed our lives. Before we were focused on fashion, make up and boys. What we're learning here is showing us we could make a career out of this..."

One of the female twins gasped at this, before butting in. "Lavender, we will not be making a career out of boys!" This produced some chuckling, with even Lavender having a laugh.

Fred then spoke, without the twinspeak that normally punctuated conversations with George present too. "Weasleys have never been elitist, the exact opposite in fact. We certainly class Harry and Hermione as very good friends. So good in fact, that Harry invited us to spend the start of the summer holidays here in Italy with him. We didn't know we were travelling to Italy, far less those two were planning to build a school."

George then took over for his twin. "Right from the off, there was going to be only four year groups - with the numbers locked at eighty students. In Hogwarts, we were always in trouble for pulling pranks. Our only ambition was to open our own joke shop. Coming here is easily equipping us with the knowledge and skills we'll need to do that, but also showing us there is a whole great big world out there. Spending time in Naples, both magical and Muggle sections, has opened our eyes to so many more opportunities available to us."

Lyndi asked the question she originally wanted to, and got a glimpse of the playful twins.

"How did you manage to get places in the Institute? I'm assuming being such good friends with Harry helped?"

"Only in that we were staying in Harry's house."

"It gave us the opportunity to beg the Headmistress to let us come here..."

"On bent knee..."

"Every day..."

"Sometimes more than once a day..."

"Almost always more than once a day..."

"Eventually the Headmistress took us seriously..."

By now, the entire table were chuckling along - before George actually got serious.

"We'll be the first Potter Institute students to sit the more difficult European O.W.L.s, we can't let Harry down."

Fred of course agreed but expanded on that. "We have Professors giving up their free time to help us, there's no way we could let them down either. They're not expecting perfect scores from us, just that we honestly do the very best we can. There's no secret to the Institute, everyone just tries their best - in their studies and behaviour. That's all that's asked of us here."

While also agreeing, Remus added something else into the mix. "There are four students currently attending the Institute from the Black Orphanage, and I bet you couldn't pick them out. Lord Black pays their fees and Jillian Green - who's in charge of the day to day running of the orphanage - will be amongst the parents visiting this weekend. We have four members of the orphanage board at the Institute, with one of them being Neville here. I know they have a meeting on Sunday, after the parents have left, because Harry has invited the entire orphanage to spend the Christmas holidays with us at the Institute."

Shaking her head in wonder, Lyndi thought the emblem on all their robes couldn't be any more apt - this place actually was inspiring.

-oOoOo-

While the European magical newspapers were full of the attack the four had carried out, their main British competition - the Daily Prophet - had ignored the entire incident in favour of some school tournament at Hogwarts. Buying the latest issue, Augustus now understood why.

He also understood immediately they'd have to find some way to subdue Bella before letting her read this. Once she laid eyes on today's Prophet, the very idea of them laying low would become a dangerous joke. The mercurial witch would explode like the world's most powerful Roman candle - and light up the European magical detection network as effectively as if they'd set of a massive fireworks display to announce their exact location.

Scanning through the multiple page article, Augustus was shocked at how detailed and accurate the information was - not something usually found within the Prophet's pages. The Ministry must have pumped every Death Eater they captured full of truth serum, and then passed those potion extricated details on to the newspaper. As if what was printed here wasn't bad enough, the newspaper was promising a further shocking world exclusive on Tom Riddle tomorrow - with pictures.

Their plan to lay low and let the hunt for them die down a bit was a good one, until he read this. Heading immediately back to Britain might be the only thing that could possibly stave off the Bellatrix meltdown that was sure to take place. Giving Bella something else to focus on and do, namely sneaking back home, was at best merely a delaying tactic.

It was all Augustus had at the moment though, until they got back to Britain and could find a target for Bellatrix Lestrange to vent her anger on. All his planning was really focused on distracting Bella, so she didn't proceed to vent that considerable anger on the only member of the quartet who didn't have the last name of Lestrange.

-oOoOo-

Working in her garden while the sun set behind Mount Vesuvius was one of Pomona's little pleasures, a perk of her current job that doomed any approach from Hogwarts before they ever got started. The Headmistress also knew a different approach was coming too, and it just walked into her garden.

"Mister Weasley, Miss Clearwater, the bench there is deliberately positioned to give the best view of the stunning sunsets. Sit, enjoy, I'll be finished my task in about ten minutes. Then we can have tea and a chat."

Both sat quietly, enjoying the sunset and watching the Headmistress clearly loving what she was doing. Since they needed her in a good mood, they were prepared to wait all night if necessary.

Having started with a blank canvas, and wonderful soil, Pomona derived so much pleasure from seeing the design she'd put down on parchment gradually take shape. Reaching the point where she had completed the work she'd assigned herself for tonight, Pomona quickly and efficiently tidied up before inviting the young couple into her office. Once the tea was served, she waited on them to broach the subject of why they were here. It was eventually Percy who spoke.

"Headmistress, there's nothing for Penny or me back in Britain. We don't want to return to a country where one of its most influential figures was illegally casting spells on us. You have a wonderful school here, and we were wondering if there was room for us - in any capacity."

Penny was nodding away in agreement before adding her own thoughts. "Neither of us have the qualifications or experience to be Professors, we both know that. Every time we approached Dumbledore about it in Hogwarts though, we left his office with no help but more responsibilities thrust upon us. It wasn't until Poppy lifted those compulsion charms we understood why."

Holding Penny's hand, Percy then revealed just how desperate they were. "We'll literally do anything, for room and board too - you won't even have to pay us..."

Pomona held her hand up to stop them, the looks of desperation aimed at her meant she now despised Albus Dumbledore even more than before. Once again though, the old wizard was her yardstick - she used that as a measure so Pomona could do the exact opposite of what Dumbledore would do.

"I have one question for you both. Sitting on the Hogwarts Express heading home at summer - what were your plans and dreams?"

"I already had an entry level job at the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore's compulsion charm saw me refusing that position. At Hogwarts, I discovered knowing something and teaching that same something to students is a whole different kettle of fish. The only dream I have left is to stay with Penny."

Appreciating Percy's honesty, Pomona turned her attention onto his girlfriend.

"My favourite and best subject at Hogwarts was easily Charms, so Dumbledore has me trying to teach Arithmancy. I was hoping to study for a Mastery in Charms and was actively searching for someone to take me on as an apprentice. We knew it was going to take a few years before we could get our own place, I think that's why Dumbledore's compulsion charms took so powerfully at first - we really wanted a place of our own."

Knowing this approach was coming had given Pomona time to think about it. "The Institute isn't running at full capacity at the moment, and it will be another two and a half years before it is. That doesn't mean we're not all incredibly busy as the new school and new courses eat into our time every single day. I'm thinking of hiring a couple of general assistants to help prepare materials, work assisting the Professors in class, help organise the parents weekend visits and the students Naples trips. Basically, anything that needs doing - with my Deputy in charge of your duties and time. Interested?"

Both had tears in their eyes as they accepted this wonderful solution to their problem, Penny actually did cry buckets when Pomona told them the salary they would receive.

"That's more than we were getting paid for teaching in Hogwarts."

"Mister Weasley, this is not Hogwarts. We have an entirely different method of charming our staff to work here. The Institute goes to great lengths to ensure our staff are happy and content while being employed here. Miss Clearwater, Professor Flitwick knows you are incredibly talented at Charms, and would have been delighted to offer you an apprenticeship - Dumbledore wouldn't allow it inside Hogwarts. I'm not Dumbledore and this is the Potter Institute so that opportunity is available to you - alongside your job as an assistant - if you wish it?"

While the tears still flowed from Penny, her wide smile was a beautiful thing to behold.

"Mister Weasley, we're all dealing with multiple problems on a daily basis - some of those problems might start heading in your direction. Training will be provided for anything you don't already know how to handle. I would suggest giving it a couple of months to experience as many different types of tasks as possible before we sit down again in the New Year and see if you have a better idea of where you would like your career to take you."

Percy had already made his mind up. "Headmistress, I want my career to take me here. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. Whatever you need me to learn, I'll learn it. This is where I want to work, in whatever capacity you need me."

This time it was Pomona wearing the wide smile. "Take a few days rest, you've both had a pretty traumatic experience. I'll let the staff know the Institute now has a couple of assistants, and they can apply to Minerva with what and when they need your time for. We'll take it from there and you'll both start Monday."

She shook their hands, promising there would be contracts ready to sign before then. Percy's quip of 'Dumbledore never even mentioned contracts, far less had us sign one' was yet another indicator to Pomona of how bad things had gotten at Hogwarts.

-oOoOo-

Sunset at Hogwarts was many hours ago, considering it was now two a.m. A heavily charmed Voldemort was inching his way through the castle's dark and deserted corridors. Voldemort headed in as much of a direct line to the Room of Requirements as it was possible to take, from the statue of the one-eyed witch. Silencing charms, scent masking charms and of course invisibility were all cast in the hope this crazy venture wouldn't end with Voldemort having to attack anyone while escaping capture.

After reading today's Prophet, and knowing what those promised photos would be, crazy ventures were simply the only avenue left. Those pictures would not only destroy Voldemort as a Dark Lord, they would also put an end to the current anonymity the little old lady was able to take advantage of. Voldemort needed to know if the horcrux placed here was still intact, or then face the very real possibility that the spirit trapped in this body was now mortal.

On entering the Room of Requirements, and closing the door, Voldemort could let out a sigh of relief that there hadn't even been a ghost needing to be snuck passed. Taking a few steps into the vast cavern of lost items however saw that relief vanish forever. Like his mother's home, Voldemort could feel where the diadem horcrux had been destroyed. It had certainly happened before the locket but that was really as accurate time-wise as Voldemort could be.

It was only the pain being emitted from the recently injured leg that alerted Voldemort this old body had slumped heavily to the floor. Struggling into a more comfortable sitting position, Voldemort was at a total loss on what to do next. This body had to compete in the Triwizard Tournament, or lose its magic. If Voldemort actually appeared at the tournament, every auror in Britain would be there to take this body down.

Tomorrow's pictures in the Prophet would end any fear of him, there would be no hesitation from the aurors that day. There had to be another way, a third option - preferably one that didn't see this body bleeding out on the grass. While certainly missing his fanatical group of supporters, it was information Voldemort desperately needed even more. With the right information, Voldemort might be able to plot a route out from under this tournament. While thinking specifically about that problem, an occasional table with a slim book on top appeared at his left elbow. Could this be Voldemort's salvation?

-oOoOo-

Finding an empty holiday home along the Kent coast was easy in November. Charming the windows so any Muggle looking in would see exactly what they expected was the work of mere moments. Only the Muggle owners turning up would disturb them, again it would be the work of mere moments putting an end to that problem. They now had a safe house on the outskirts of Folkestone from which to plan their next moves.

Augustus placed today's Prophet on the table and took a step back. There was silence in the room, though that silence was predictably broken by Bella.

"Is this a fucking joke?"

A shake of his head didn't convince Bellatrix. "How can this be? That's not our master. That's not a Lord, never mind a dark one."

Rabastan looked to Augustus. "You're our expert here, how could this happen?"

Seeing the other three were in shock, Augustus thought it was safe enough to sit at the table and pour himself a cup of tea. There were no curses flying around - yet. "It would appear our Master attempted a ritual to regain his body, but anything that could go wrong did."

Taking a sip of his sweet tea, Augustus continued. "The ritual required four main components. A body to hold his spirit before the ritual began, the bone of his father, the flesh of a servant - willingly given, and the blood of an enemy - forcibly taken. Seemingly, our Master had been possessing the body of Bertha Jorkins for months. Using a female body going into this ritual though was risky, a risk that backfired."

After a little more fortifying tea, Augustus moved on to the second component. "From what Potter reportedly said, he might have switched out the bones in that grave. The fact that he was there when the ritual was taking place lends credence to his claim. Potter being there not only means he knew exactly what our master was attempting, but why, where and obviously when too. Not being the correct bones would seriously affect the ritual, and worse if the replacement bones were from a female muggle too - it was after all a muggle graveyard."

While sipping the sweet elixir, Augustus was thinking it might be time for something stronger as he discussed the third element. "The servant's flesh must be willing given, or magic would know. I actually agree with what Potter said about this, Pettigrew was a terrible choice. We all know Peter's a cowardly little bastard, there's just no way he would cut off his own hand willingly. The Weasleys are a light family, and certainly our Master's enemy. Snatching the Weasley patriarch was an inspired choice, and probably the only reason the ritual met with any form of success."

Sitting back and refilling his cup, Augustus waited on the 'what now' part of the discussion that simply had to come.

Bella hadn't taken her eyes of the pictures during Augustus's explanation. She now lifted her sleeve and stared at her dark mark. That mark used to pulse with her Master's power, all of their marks had, she'd felt so connected to her Lord on a practically spiritual level - never mind magically. Currently there was no feeling at all being transmitted through any of their marks, they could be mistaken for ordinary tattoos. Bella had reached her decision. "I couldn't kneel down and kiss the hem of any robes that thing wore. That's simply not the wizard I pledged my loyalty to."

With Bella breaking the ice, the Lestrange brothers then looked to Augustus - they needed to know what their options were here.

"I know of no way to turn that form back to our master, and certainly not in the time frame the first task of this tournament imposes. Having been entered under the name Riddle, it would be our master who loses his magic - with that body probably dying too - if they don't compete in the first task. If they do compete, and that body dies, our master might become a spirit again. Then we could possibly seek that spirit out and help."

There was no confidence whatsoever in that last sentence, something Rabastan picked up on immediately. "You don't think that will happen?"

Shaking his head, Augustus then tried to explain why that was a no. "Whatever group Potter is heading, their intelligence on our movement and master is only matched by the utter ruthlessness brought to bear on their enemies. I think it's safe to assume we're the last of our Master's Death Eaters, and we only survived with a massive slice of luck - with Carrick being in the wrong place at the right time. Our Master's power base has been totally wiped out in Britain, his rebirth ritual heavily sabotaged and a very public scheduled appearance is now magically forced upon him. If they could achieve all this, while practically destroying Dumbledore and Fudge at the same time, you have to think they will have taken all the steps needed to thwart our Master once more becoming a spirit and escaping."

All three Lestranges easily followed Augustus's logic, and none could argue against any of it. Rodolphus was reduced to basically thinking out loud.

"Could we kidnap someone, force them to cancel this tournament?"

Thinking about that for a minute or two, Augustus again was left to shake his head and explain his visible rejection of that idea. "Two main problems with that. I think anyone we could kidnap that would be important enough to apply significant pressure for a cancellation will probably already be living in Italy. The goblet took that witch's magic, and even if it could give her magic back, she's now dead. There's simply no way to reset the goblet, the tournament has to play through to completion."

Rabastan followed his brother's example and voiced his thoughts. At another time or place, those thoughts would have seen him tortured to death. "Our Master was powerful, intelligent and charismatic - that's why we all followed him. Sitting here, Bella has power to spare, Augustus's intellect hasn't led us wrong yet while Roddie and I can be charming. If we can't save our Master, can we save his cause?"

Now that the unmentionable had been uttered out loud, and no one had even glared at Rabastan, Augustus felt safer voicing his own ideas. "Seeing proof of his origins, our Master's cause has been very publicly exposed as nothing more than a method to gain power for himself. He took the pureblood beliefs, bastardised and weaponised those beliefs until his Death Eaters didn't baulk at anything we were ordered to do. With a muggle for a father, how could he possibly champion the pureblood supremacy cause? Since he no longer has the magical power or followers to do anything about it, these newspapers can print whatever they want without fear of any retaliation. We already knew witches and wizards wanted nothing to do with us in Europe, this is the last nail in the coffin of the pureblood supremacy cause in Britain."

"You mean he lied to us?"

Bella's temper was never far away, Augustus didn't want it making an appearance here. "He lied to the entire country - told the purebloods what we wanted to hear, needed to hear - and killed anyone that disagreed with him. His power allowed our Master to do that, something this new body simply doesn't have. You yourself said you couldn't kiss the hem of that's robes, I agree - just for a different reason. I wanted to believe so much that our master could change things, even spending over a decade in Azkaban didn't dent my devotion - it was probably the only thing that kept me alive. I still want to believe with all my heart, I just can't. Our Master is gone, and that thing is just a pale shadow - a poor imitation of someone who had enough power to be considered practically a deity. My beliefs have been shattered, and I don't know where to go from here. You will have my wand and my full support however you decide to move forward, I just have no idea what direction that should be."

Standing from the table, Augustus rinsed out his cup before heading out the room. It was about five minutes later when Rabastan found him lying on the bed and staring at the bland ceiling.

"It's not the muggle father thing that's bothering me, I just knew it was over the instant Bella said she could never kiss any robes worn by that. She put into words exactly what I was thinking. Without the copious magical power that radiated off him, that's simply not our master. What have we left to live for, since we're now left without a cause we all swore to die for?"

Lying down beside Augustus, Rabastan gave his lover the only answer they had managed to come up with. "Revenge. Kill and torture those closest to Potter - before ending his suffering by eventual killing him."

As Augustus started thinking about people to target, he gave a nod of acceptance. Revenge was as good a reason as any to keep moving forward.

-oOoOo-

The combined Modern Studies and Italian class was a spectacular success, and the mock broadcast played that night at dinner was simply another reason for the visiting parents to be flabbergasted with their first impressions of the Potter Institute. Lyndi had carefully monitored their reactions, trying to suss out who would be good candidates for interviewing live at the BBQ. She'd immediately zeroed in on the Greengrass family, moving them straight to the top of her list. Jillian Green would also be another fascinating interview, but Lyndi was wary of any backlash. There were parents so desperate to get their children into Pi, declaring them orphans for access to this wonderful school wasn't beyond the realms of possibility.

Lyndi already had interviews with the Headmistress, Poppy Pomfrey and the Grangers recorded, these would be woven in amongst the live interviews. Lyndi had explained right from day one that she wanted to end the broadcast with a live interview with Lord Potter, and didn't really want to sit down with him before that. She had allocated seventeen minutes for that alone, and knew for certain no one would cut her off should their interview run over the allotted time.

Andy had told her this program was being broadcast to the entire network of wizarding radio stations, and reckoned the listening audience would be larger than their previous record - the Quidditch World Cup. No pressure on the young presenter then, as she watched her assistant countdown to going live.

All around Europe, but especially Britain, listeners were glued to their wizarding wireless sets. The next hour or so would blow their minds.

"Good evening everyone, and welcome to our exclusive live broadcast from the Potter Institute. I'm currently standing in the area that's enclosed on three sides by the school building - but what an area, I've honestly never seen anything like it. A swimming pool meanders and loops around the area like a river - creating a large island in the middle that's accessible via bridges and becomes a great hanging out area for the students. The pool has built-in underwater coloured lights that are synchronised to change colour, giving the impression that the water flows in waves around the pool. The entire area is also festooned with festive lighting - all together creating a wonderful effect that's simply breathtaking. The planting in the area is beautiful by day and stunning when highlighted by lights at night - you would expect nothing less though when the Institute's Headmistress is a master of Herbology."

Taking a breath to allow a few seconds for the listeners imaginations to catch up, and hear the sounds of people having fun in the background, Lyndi was soon continuing with her descriptions.

"Dotted in amongst this wonderland are tables and chairs, creating little pockets of activity amongst the serenity the entire scene creates. Those pockets are currently occupied by students, their visiting families and also staff - many of whom live with their own families at the school too. The sounds and smells of sizzling meats and vegetables being cooked over charcoal really sets your appetite up for the fabulous fare on offer tonight. Witches and wizards, my name is Lyndi Lang, and I invite you to spend with me what passes for a normal Saturday night at the Potter Institute - normal for them that is - extraordinary for everyone else."