A Familiar Bond: Chapter 23

Harry stirred awake and a smile graced his face as he felt the familiar curves of Daphne and Valerie pressing against him on either side. He could feel their hot breaths against his skin as he lay in bed, slowly running his fingers along their spines.

The previous night had been an eventful one. Once he and Fleur had pleasured each other to their hearts’ content, she had left for the carriage, leaving Harry in the room by himself.

Knowing Valerie and Daphne were occupied with something of their own, he had retired for the night. It seemed they had arrived after he had fallen asleep.

Harry kept running his fingers along their spines, caressing their bare bottoms whenever he reached down, and it didn’t take long for them to stir awake from their slumber.

“Morning, you two.”

Daphne and Valerie blinked in drowsiness and Harry smiled when they burrowed against him like cats.

“You sound too chipper this morning.”

“And you two look like you slept too little last night,” Harry chuckled. “What exactly were you up to?”

Daphne let out a small yawn and shared a smirk with Valerie, both witches looking oddly proud of themselves. Harry’s curiosity was sated when they shared the memory with him and all he could do was laugh.

“Oh Merlin, you two are evil,” he wheezed.

“That ponce deserves much worse than getting a little scared,” Daphne shrugged.

“His father’s spawn, through and through,” Valerie muttered distastefully. “Never liked that moron either.”

“Doesn’t have anything likeable about him anyway,” Harry remarked. “Hopefully he’d let his brain work for once and listen to your little warning.”

“A part of me is hoping he doesn’t. Wouldn’t mind a repeat of last night,” Valerie smirked.

Harry chuckled as he lay in the bed with them cuddled up on either side of him.

“What about the bird? What happened?” Valerie asked softly.

Harry sighed in exasperation and shared everything.

“What the actual fuck!?” Daphne cried out in disbelief, shooting up in a sitting position on his right.

“Trust me, that was my reaction as well,” Harry replied in a deadpan voice.

Suddenly, they stared at a hysterically laughing Valerie who clutched onto Harry, shaking. They exchanged a look before they turned back to the brunette.

“Morgana…” Valerie wheezed, snorting. “That was the last thing I expected.”

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied dryly. “I thought it’d be something more…”

“Concrete?”

“Meaningful, more like,” he said. “But this? I think we seriously underestimated how much sex and emotions connected to it matter to a veela.”

“Veela might have human forms, but deep down, they are creatures of passion,” Daphne intoned after getting herself under control, her face thoughtful. “In a way, it’s understandable that she’d be so much concerned about it. There must be other factors but I guess you satisfy those wishes she has. This is the only complaint she’s got left.”

“Quite a big complaint,” Valerie giggled. “I guess we know what we need to do next. You better destroy all the excuses she could make, mister.”

Harry stared at her and Daphne, both looking at him meaningfully, and he grabbed them firmly. The witches squealed as he pulled them firmly against himself.

“That bloody bird questioned my worth. Trust me, I plan on doing exactly that.”

A little over an hour later, the couple descended the stairs and made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. They found their place at the Ravenclaw table amongst the rest of the students from all three schools and exchanged a smile with Fleur, taking a seat right opposite her.

“It’s a bit crowded today, innit?” Harry remarked, looking around.

The Great Hall was abuzz with excited whisperings and they could make out a few words being thrown here and there, spiking their curiosity even further.

“Dueling?” He asked in surprise.

“It’d been rumored since the first night, remember?” Daphne reminded him. “Not surprising it’s true. The organizers must be wanting to give the rest of the students something to participate in.”

“You all thinking of entering?” Fleur asked, earning smirks from the threesome.

“Might as well,” Valerie replied. “Would be fun.”

Harry nodded. He could not deny that he was excited to test his skills against even more students from Hogwarts and beyond, and the tournament might be challenging in its own right but dueling as an art form fascinated him in many ways to the extent that it was even in his shortlist for potential career options.

“Also the fact that there are a few people I won’t mind getting a crack at,” Daphne smirked.

“Now, babe. You’ve already humiliated him,” Harry chuckled.

“Would be fun doing it internationally,” Daphne replied.

“The Malfoy boy?” Fleur asked, noticing Daphne’s glance toward the Slytherin table. “He looks a bit worse for wear, doesn’t he?”

Harry snorted.

“Let’s just say… he had a very eventful night,” Valerie replied, grinning. Fleur did not miss the mischievous glint in her and Daphne’s eyes and she smirked.

“You’ve got to tell me all about it,” she whispered, leaning forward.

“I’d love to, my dear birdie,” Valerie grinned. Fleur merely rolled her eyes at the nickname.

They saw Dumbledore get up from his seat and walk over to the podium. The old wizard’s mere presence commanded attention and his usual grandfatherly smile seemed to induce a sense of calmness among the masses as he stepped forward, pressing the tip of his wand into the side of his neck.

“Good morning. I know this is surprising and you all must be curious about it, so allow me to make a couple of announcements before the breakfast gets underway,” Dumbledore began. “Firstly, a dueling competition will be held alongside the Triwizard Tournament throughout the year. Those who wish to compete shall need to submit their names to their respective Heads of House before dinner tomorrow. Students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are required to submit their names to Madame Maxime and Highmaster Karkaroff respectively. It should be noted that students who are of age are eligible for participation.”

A loud chorus of boos and groans of disappointment rang throughout the Great Hall at the announcement.

“However,” Dumbledore continued. “Underage students shall be allowed to participate should they be deemed as such by their respective Heads and they submit a written consent signed by themselves and their guardian. It must be noted that even though rules are in place, dueling involves substantial risk of injury and as such, it can be a perilous undertaking. Do keep it in mind.”

It did not take long for the groans and cries to be replaced by excited chatter and Dumbledore looked on in amusement. He allowed the students a few seconds before resuming.

“The second announcement pertains to a Triwizard Tournament tradition that has been in place since the first tournament was held in 1294. The Yule Ball is an event to celebrate international co-operation and it shall be held on the evening of the 24th of December. Champions are expected to open the Ball with their chosen partner for the dance. The holidays shall begin from 25th onwards. That is all.”

In the wake of groans and excited giggling, Dumbledore smiled merrily and walked over to take his seat once again.

“Well then, looks like it’d be an eventful month leading up to this Ball,” Daphne remarked as the breakfast appeared. The students dug in immediately, famished as they were.

“These bints better not get any ideas,” Valerie muttered under her breath, her eyes darting from side to side. To Harry’s left, Daphne did the same and her lips set in a thin line.

“They’ve gotten ideas, just because Harry has two girlfriends now. The hell do they think? That he’s building some sort of harem and they might have a chance?” The blonde hissed.

“Well, technically, he is,” Fleur supplied with a grin, probing Harry’s feet under the table. The young man in question glanced over at her and smirked.

“Only when the most beautiful women in the world are involved.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Valerie asked, gripping his thigh firmly and prompting him to wince.

“The number’s limited to three, I promise!”

“Hmm. Good. Be sure to keep it that way,” the brunette whispered with a final pinch on his thigh.

“Look,” Daphne began, glancing about. “We should get this sorted out right now. None of us want other blokes or girls to keep harassing us for this Ball.”

 “Agreed,” Harry nodded. “I can take all three of you.”

“As much as we’d love that, I don’t think it’d be allowed, love,” the blonde replied.

“How can you expect me to choose?” Harry asked with a sigh. “And there’s no way any other bloke’s going to stand beside either of you.”

“We’d rather not go than do that,” Valerie rolled her eyes.

“I’ve got an idea,” Fleur remarked as she sipped her juice. “We can get done with the other issue we’ve got first. I’ll tell you about it then.”

“Hey! Just out with it already!” Valerie clicked her tongue in annoyance, earning an amused look from the veela.

“I’ll tell you all later, promise. But first, I’d like the ritual to be completed. It’s high time now and I can barely wait anymore.”

Daphne exchanged a smirk with Valerie.

“She wants it bad.”

“Can’t blame her, to be honest.”

Harry sat in the middle, an exasperated look on his face.

“Could you two not grope me like this right in the middle of a full hall?”

The two young women smirked as they gripped him tighter, making Harry sigh.

“And now I’ll have to take care of this.”

“Ah, don’t worry, love.”

“Exactly. You know we all will love to help you out.”

Fleur exchanged a grin with Daphne and Valerie and mere seconds later, they felt the veela’s naked foot climb up and rest against his crotch, right between where their hands were. As one, the three women pressed and Harry was barely able to hold in a hiss, gripping the table tightly.

“Seriously? You three wanna play like this?”

“More fun this way, innit?” Valerie smirked as she leaned against him, prompting Daphne to do the same on his other side.

All knew multiple students were eyeing them up, wondering if they had a chance with either of them for the Yule Ball, and it only made them hotter. Harry felt them rubbing their hands and foot on his erection over his trousers with more intensity and his arousal was heightened even further when they fed him their lecherous thoughts of how they wanted him to take them—one by one, together, and then all three at the same time. Fleur was the only one not in the know, but the intense pheromones her veela senses were picking up from the three did more than enough for her.

It was a surprise that no one truly understood what was going on, and even if they did, they could not care less. They were eagerly rubbing him over his length, pushing him ever closer to the precipice.

“Almost there,” Harry grunted under his breath, gripping the bare thighs on either side of him in a vice grip. A small, shuddering breath left him as he was sent over the edge.

They regarded him as he breathed heavily in the aftermath of his orgasm. Daphne was quick to pull out her wand and she flicked it sharply, vanishing the mess.

“Well, that was something,” Harry breathed.

“Be sure to return the favor tonight,” Fleur whispered promisingly and Harry chuckled. He knew what was coming and he reached under the table, finding her leg resting against his inner thigh, and started gently playing with her toes.

“I can’t wait for you to be one of us,” he said sincerely, earning a loving smile from the veela.

“And one with us as well,” Daphne added, making Valerie nod.

Fleur exchanged looks of understanding from the two women and she nodded, biting her lower lip. She knew they had accepted her and so had she. The only obstacle that remained was the silly demand of the veela inside her and as she gazed back at Harry, she saw the fire and determination in his eyes that told her that no matter what, he would make her his.

“I can’t either,” she replied softly, smiling.

XXXXX

They were almost done with their breakfast when a small piece of parchment dropped out of a flash of fire in front of Harry. He glanced over toward the professors’ table and saw no sign of Dumbledore.

Picking up the parchment, he read it over.

“Must be important,” Daphne said as she read it. “You should go. Val and I will get to our classes from here.”

Harry nodded and put the parchment away. He exchanged a small smile with Fleur and soft kisses with Daphne and Val before he got out of the seat. The three girls watched him walk out of the Great Hall before making their way out a few minutes later.

“You’ll know everything soon,” Daphne intoned, addressing Fleur as they walked out of the Great Hall. “Once we share our memories.”

Fleur nodded.

Suddenly, they came to a halt when a small group of boys stepped in front of them. Both Daphne and Valerie sneered at the sight of the ponce Harry had humiliated multiple times before, standing in front of them with a smug smirk.

“You mind?” Valerie asked, unimpressed.

Roger Davies ignored her, his eyes filled with lust as he lecherously ogled Fleur whose lips curled in disgust.

“Aye, veela. You’ll do. Meet me on the night of the Yule Ball. I’ll take you.”

All three girls balked at the idiot’s audacity, staring at him as he stood with his chest puffed out and looking down on Fleur as if he was somehow her superior. Numerous students had stopped mid-walk, staring at the spectacle unfolding first thing in the morning with unhidden interest. Hogwarts loved gossip and drama.

“I would rather drown myself in Hippogriff shit than go anywhere with a swine like you,” Fleur sneered, her nose upturned as she looked down haughtily at Davies like the insect that he truly was.

Snorts and laughs were heard all around them as Davies flushed in rage.

Snarling, he hissed, “Have care how you speak, you slut! It should be an honor for someone of your kind to even be considered by me!”

The veela inside Fleur snarled in sheer rage and she could feel her temperature rise as her hands sparked golden. However, before she could give in to her primal instincts, someone else beat her to it.

“You are truly an imbecile, aren’t you?” Valerie intoned coldly. “No matter how many times you are shown your place, you come for more humiliation. By now, I’ve started to think you enjoy being treated rough.”

“I won’t have that bullshit from you, slag,” Davies hissed, his expression one of disgust. “You’d know a lot about humiliation, won’t you? Couldn’t satisfy Potter enough so he brought another one in the mixer. What now? Looking to make it three? You lot are pathetic, but he’s even worse.”

“I don’t know who the fuck you even are, but let me tell you, ponce,” Daphne seethed. “You better turn around with your tail tucked between your legs or you’d be losing the ability to actually use what’s down there.”

“Is that a threat, Greengrass?”

“A reality that you’re inches away from facing,” Daphne whispered dangerously. “Everyone knows no sane woman would ever give you the time of their day, especially after this abhorrent conduct that should shame your wizarding house. Insulting a guest like this? I wonder what Lord Davies would have to say about it if he got to know what you get up to and how you’re dragging his house’s name through the mud.”

At once, Davies’ sneer vanished as he gritted his teeth in rage.

“I know how much he’s worked to establish himself with the neutral faction, which, as you might know, is headed by my mother as my proxy,” Daphne sneered. “It does not fill me with much confidence to have you as an ally in the future. A shame really, what an idiot for a son your father has. One who’s hellbent on destroying everything he’s been working for.”

“Don’t think you fool anyone with that fake bravado, Greengrass,” Davies forced out. “Your house barely has any hold over the neutrals. It’s only a matter of time before you’re kicked out of the faction like the weed you lot are.”

“Keep being that deluded, dumbass,” Daphne smirked. “And do expect a letter from your father soon. He’d teach you a better lesson in how to treat and talk to others than anyone else ever could.”

Davies was breathing heavily, his fingernails digging into his palm as he glared at Daphne.

“Although I guess it’s his failure too that he failed to raise you properly. Says a lot, honestly.”

“Keep my father’s name out of your mouth, you bitch,” Davies hissed.

“Make me, cunt,” Daphne was not one to back down. Her icy glare was in full force as she stared at him as if he was the lowest of vermin deserving to crawl over shit.

“I wouldn’t do it if I were you,” Valerie whispered dangerously, her wand out in a flash and pressed under the chin of one of Davies’ lackeys whose eyes widened in shock. “Take your hand off your wand and I’ll do the same. We’re talking, aren’t we? No need to arrange for a trip to the hospital wing for you and your dear pals.”

The boy gulped as he stared fearfully at a furious Valerie with her eyes narrowed into slits, much like her animagus form.

“This is when you apologize to our esteemed guest for the vile insult, and to us for your filthy tongue,” Daphne growled, uncaring of how the boy was glaring at her with utter loathing.

He was gritting his teeth so hard they could hear the grinding noise.

“Do it,” Valerie hissed in warning.

“S-sorry,” Davies forced out, breathing harshly.

“Make sure this doesn’t repeat. Everyone knows you don’t have the balls to do anything to Harry who can bury you within seconds but don’t ever make the mistake of thinking we’re easy pickings because he’s not here,” Daphne warned. “Val, Fleur, we’re done here. Let’s go.”

With a parting disdainful glance, the three girls stepped away to leave. They had walked only a couple of meters when Valerie suddenly twirled on her feet and batted away the curse sent her way, catching Davies’ lackey right in the middle of his chest. Everyone gasped as the boy was sent harshly against the wall where he slumped over, unconscious.

“You dare!” She growled as Fleur and Daphne pulled their wands out, and pointed at Davies and his final lackey who also had their wands out.

“What is going on here!?” The shocked cry of Professor McGonagall made everyone look over. The old woman strode over, her face stern as she took in the scene around her. “Put your wands away. Now!”

Slowly, all five lowered their wands, glaring.

McGonagall’s eyes fell on Davies’ lackey who was slumped over against the wall, unconscious. Her lips set in a thin line as she regarded them, not missing the hostility permeating the air.

“Well? Should I repeat myself? What is going on here?”

“Davies here had the bright idea to insult our guest and her heritage before he did the same to me and Daphne. We had a verbal exchange and he apologized. He must’ve not liked it so he and his pals tried to curse us in the back. Unfortunately, they are quite incompetent. Two of them couldn’t get theirs spells in while the only one who did failed. I sent his spell right back and the rest is in front of your eyes, Professor,” Valerie said calmly.

McGonagall’s lips pursed as she gazed at the three girls before she turned to Davies who kept glaring.

“Miss Delacour, I am sure you have your training to get to. As for the rest of you, follow me. Mr. Thomas, please see Mr. Dankworth here to the hospital wing.”

Without waiting, McGonagall turned on her heels and walked away. Davies and his lackey glared one final time before they followed with a parting glance toward the unconscious lad.

“Pathetic scum,” Daphne hissed in disgust. Turning toward Fleur who looked equally irate, she sighed and squeezed her arm. “Ignore that asshole and get to your training or whatever. We’ll see what McGonagall has to say about it.”

Fleur nodded and watched Daphne and Valerie walk away in McGonagall’s direction. She could feel multiple eyes on herself now that everyone had left. Long-term practice kicked in and she straightened her posture before she walked away, leaving multiple groups of students chattering about excitedly in her wake.

XXXXX

“Come in, Harry.”

Harry walked in and shut the door behind him. Dumbledore gestured for him to join him by what he recognized as a pensieve.

“We’re watching a memory?”

Dumbledore smiled thinly.

“Do you remember what I told you about Horcruxes the last time we met?”

“You were going to gather memories from different people who either knew or had seen Voldemort when he was young,” Harry nodded. “Did you find something already?”

“Being in a position that I am has allowed me enough privilege to gather quite a sizeable collection of memories,” Dumbledore smiled. Harry nodded, his eyebrows slightly raised as he stared at the sheer number of vials filled with floating white wisps. “Horace told you that Tom intended to create seven Horcruxes. We have confirmation that the diary, the locket, the diadem, and the one within you are destroyed. That would leave us with three unknown Horcruxes.”

“Can we count me with the others really?” Harry asked. “Voldemort didn’t intend to make me a Horcrux, right? Wouldn’t it be better to work under the assumption that he has seven other Horcruxes? Or had… which means four unknown ones.”

“It is also possible that he intended to create six Horcruxes to have seven fragments of his soul, with one residing in his body, but yes, I believe it would be prudent to assume he created seven Horcruxes.”

Harry nodded.

“So what did you find?”

“Why don’t you join me?”

Harry stared at Dumbledore who picked up a vial and poured its contents out into the pensieve. The wisp of memory turned black as it descended, slowly taking form. Together, they plunged into the memory itself.

The memory ended shortly and both wizards walked over to take their respective seats.

“That was…”

“He already looked different, didn’t he?” Dumbledore sighed, earning a nod from Harry. He had met the shade of Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets. That boy had a regal air about him. A bearing of confidence and charisma that would put anyone at ease. However, the Tom Riddle he had seen in the memory had something else layered on top of it all. A sense of hostility, malevolence, and evil hidden expertly beneath the veneer of politeness and charm.

“As you saw, Harry… Tom took up a job at Borgin and Burke’s in Knockturn Alley after he graduated Hogwarts, to the shock of many. Not that he cared, for it took him a step closer to his ultimate goal.”

“Which was to locate valuable artifacts which he could use to make his little soul containers.”

“Precisely,” Dumbledore nodded. “Working at Borgin and Burke’s brought Tom in contact with one of their most frequent clients at the time. One Hepzibah Smith.”

“The woman in the memory, I presume.”

“Indeed. And I believe you could tell from their interaction how much she had come to regard Tom.”

“He surely knew real well how to fool people, didn’t he?”

“Manipulation and treachery were second nature to Tom ever since his childhood, and those traits only developed as he grew into what he became,” Dumbledore sighed. “Coming back to the memory at hand. I do recall Hepzibah Smith. She joined Hogwarts as a first year when I was in my seventh, and even then, she was a vain woman who took immense pride in her family’s wealth and their connection to Helga Hufflepuff.”

“The Smiths are descended from her, I remember,” Harry mused.

“And she never failed to remind it to anyone who crossed her,” Dumbledore smiled. “Although a few were impressed, most just considered her to be nothing more than a spoiled brat and moved on. However, this behavior persisted with her as she grew older, her pride only growing even when her family’s wealth deteriorated. She never married, nor did she ever work a day in her life.”

Harry shook his head with a sigh.

“Being as rich as her family was, she became an avid collector of magical artifacts, splurging untold wealth to the point where the manor was the only thing remaining. Meanwhile, the cadet branch of the Smith family thrived, having cut off all relations with her. I have perused through a few other memories which lead me to believe that she met Tom during one of her visits to Borgin and Burke’s and over time, she developed a fondness for him.”

“You don’t say,” came Harry’s dry reply as he recalled how the woman was gushing over Voldemort throughout that memory.

“Tell me, Harry. Do you seem to recall anything significant from the memory we just saw?”

“I thought it could be relevant. I was indeed looking at all the artifacts that she was showing off. She even had Slytherin’s locket. Given how you emphasized her heritage, I presume one of the other artifacts was something belonging to Hufflepuff?”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore smiled. “Helga Hufflepuff is said to have possessed an artifact of goblin craftmanship. A cup, to be precise.”

“Ah!” Harry nodded in remembrance. “It did have an animal engraved on it.”

“Yes. It is my belief that Tom tainted that cup with his soul and it is one of the Horcruxes we still need to destroy.”

“So he killed her,” Harry stated plainly. He frowned when Dumbledore sighed.

“The official record is different. The memory you just saw came from Hokey, an elf that served Hepzibah. Being old and frail, she did not have much sense. It was not too complicated for Tom to warp her mind to make her believe that she put poison in her mistress’ tea.”

Harry sighed. “Why does it not surprise me? The elf must’ve been living a distraught life since then.”

“She perished, still believing that she had caused the death of her mistress,” Dumbledore replied gravely. “I was able to obtain this memory somehow and even though it cannot be proven that she was innocent, I believe the truth is plainly obvious considering the individual we are discussing right now.”

“Voldemort…” Harry muttered. “Any idea where this cup might be?”

“The hopeful part of me says that he entrusted it to one of his followers.”

“Val suggested it might be either of the Lestrange brothers or Crouch Junior.”

“The first two are in Azkaban and the latter is dead,” Dumbledore mused. “It is possible. They were certainly close to Tom from what the investigations and their behavior suggest.”

“We should be looking into them. Even if there’s one percent chance, we have to make sure.”

“Crouch would prove to be complicated,” Dumbledore mused. “No one knew he was a Death Eater until he was ousted. The Lestrange brothers, although cruel, were not known for their intellect. It would not be surprising if they decided to put the Horcrux inside their family manor or vault. However, Crouch was sneaky and cunning. If he was bestowed with a Horcrux, it would be nigh impossible to find it, particularly now that he is dead.”

“Then we better hope it’s the Lestranges and they were as foolish as you’re making them out to be,” Harry replied. “If only Crouch wasn’t dead…”

XXXXX

Barty Crouch Junior, disguised as his father and clad in dark clothing stood in the middle of a clearing, relaxed. His eyes darted from side to side, his lips set in an amused curl.

Suddenly, a blurry figure shot forward at a furious pace from the surrounding foliage, stopping mere inches away from him.

“You still love your fun, eh?” He remarked with a wide grin as his tongue slid out quickly. The outstretched arm came closer, almost wrapping around his neck, as its owner grinned ferally.

“And you always like to be more familiar than you deserve,” Fenrir Greyback, the most dangerous werewolf alive, growled.

“Ah Fenrir, must you hurt my feelings like this,” Crouch bemoaned mockingly.

“I heard you died in that shithole. Turns out you’re out here, enjoying yourself. Dressed as your scum of a father,” Greyback snarled. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t make your death a reality right here, right now, Crouchy.”

Crouch smirked.

“You really believe you can take me on, Fenrir?” He whispered dangerously.

“You’re acting real confident for someone surrounded by a dozen werewolves,” Greyback grinned. “Faking your death gave you a bigger pair down there, eh?”

“I know you won’t do anything to me, Fenrir. You know why?” Crouch smirked. “Because you’re curious. Curious to hear how I survived. Curious to know what I’ve been up to. And curious to know why now… why now of all times have I shown myself. Am I right or am I right?”

Greyback’s fangs gleamed menacingly as he pulled his arm back, staring at Crouch whose smirk widened.

“Curiosity is indeed a special thing, isn’t it?” He remarked, twirling his wand around in the air. At once a pair of comfortable chairs materialized out of nowhere in the middle of the clearing and he took his seat. “Don’t be shy, Fenrir. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

“This better be worth it, Crouchy,” Greyback hissed as he sat down.

“You really think I would’ve reached out to you if it wasn’t? Give me some credit, my friend. I might’ve risen from the dead but I didn’t truly die. This is still me.”

Greyback scoffed, spitting to the side as he leaned back and regarded him.

“Fine, Crouch. Let’s start with the last one. Why now of all times?”

Crouch’s smirk transformed into an evil grin as he replied, “Because it’s time, Fenrir. It’s time for us to rise once again.”

To be continued…