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I've heard through the grapevine, so to speak, that Hermione is pregnant again, with twins again.  Given that I have felt nothing, not like when she was pregnant with the other three brats, I'm not sure what to make of this pregnancy.  Does it mean neither of the brats belong to Potter or Weasley?  Does it mean they're squibs?  Or is there some other reason, such as they're not part of any prophecy?

There are times I wish I could discuss these things with others.  Talking to Parvati about it doesn't help, though I'm sure she could come up with creative ways of offing any of those children.

Sighing, I try to engage my mind in the meeting.  Had I known running the Minister and, therefore by extension, the Wizarding world meant meetings and paperwork, I might have used a different route for domination.

"And does that meet with your approval, Mr Avery?"

I slowly turn my gaze to the department head.  I've let my mind wander too far because I have no idea what he's talking about.  Smiling darkly, I murmur, "Give me a synopsis again."  A glare stifles the groans of annoyance at the table.

I need another woman.  Not necessarily like Mrs Turner, but someone.  Maybe Parvati can find a woman for me, then watch.

My smile makes three men at the table shiver.

An evening out ... and in

Parvati knows her place and that's away from me tonight.  She's mingling separately from me.  Business receptions are only one step above having a root canal for enjoyment lately.  It's extremely difficult to enjoy the thought of a corporate takeover when you've held someone's life, literally, in your hands.

I bring the glass of champagne to my lips, eyes scanning the crowd.  There have been a few women who've looked interested -- and interesting -- but I'm not sure yet if I trust myself to take a moment to shag one of them.

The Darkness is encroachingCollapse )

I follow Mrs Turner to the door, amused when she turns and hisses, "You're a bastard."

I grin.  "I know."

She slams the door, heading downstairs to catch a cab, presumably.  Parvati spins me around and pins me to the door.

"I love when you're a bastard," she growls.

After I satisfy my wife -- twice -- she takes a moment to tell me of her earlier behavior.  Damn, I love this woman and her terrible deviousness.

Worries and conversations

I often wonder, now that they've returned to England, what the Golden Trio is doing on the nights I black out.  Thursday night, for example.  The last thing I remember is having a lovely dinner with a reporter from the Prophet.  The next thing I recall is this morning and having to dispose of her body.


When I told Parvati about it, she was intrigued.  I'm not sure what's going on in her head, but she'll tell me eventually.  And, if she doesn't, I'll find out one way or another.

"Your wife is looking for you."  I look up at Slytherin's portrait.  I doubted it was possible, but he's become even more surly than before.  One thousand years doesn't change him but ten around me does.

I give the portrait a slow smile.  "Is she now."

Slytherin crosses his arms and glares down at me.  "Are you going to shag her in front of me again?"

"I might if you don't behave."

He reaches for his wand before remembering he wasn't painted with one.  Glaring more fiercely than before, he mutters about not knowing the group I invited in were Muggles and the least I could do is to have a portrait of a female in my flat that he could visit.

Parvati enters my office, looks between me and the portrait I'm smirking at, and smiles.  Deliberately, I back her against the wall next to the door, pin her hands above her head and kiss her boneless.

"You've made your point, you bastard," Slytherin spits.

I don't respond.  Breaking the kiss, I take Parvati's hand and allow her to lead me into London.

I wonder if she'd allow me to stop into the Weasley's shop and ask about their sister.

One last turn

The bodies were found yesterday; the tracking charm on them notified me when they were moved.  The small article in the newspaper stated they'd been found by coyotes first.  Pity.  I wanted them to be intact.  I grin.  If I'd really wanted that, I would have cast protective charms on them.

"Hit or stay, sir?"

I check my cards again -- seven and ten -- and the dealer's cards.  An eight is showing and a bit of magic shows a king in the hole.  I sip my drink and use a bit of magic to check the next card.  A four.


There is shock around the table, especially when it nets me a 21 rather than bust.  Two players later, I rake in my quarter-million in winnings and leave the table.  High stakes black jack is getting boring.  Poker ceased to amuse me two days ago.

Maybe it's time to return to England.  The smile that brings to my face make a small girl waiting at the elevators with her parents cry.

I'll leave a special gift with Ginny then head home.  Maybe I'll catch Parvati being naughty.

An evening with Ms Weasley

It's unfortunate that Ginny is losing her mind so quickly.  By the fact she kept calling me Tom, I can only assume her encounter with my father so many years ago cracked her mind and my incursions haven't helped.  If her mind is gone, so much the better.  She has asked about her family, to which I gave no answer.

I took the bodies away and left them in a culvert outside the city.  Someone should discover them soon.  If they don't, then I might make a discreet phone call.

I called Parvati in the middle of the night, waking her.  I don't think she minded considering it became a mutual masturbation session.  As a pureblood, she'd never experienced phone sex.  Though it isn't a substitute for the real thing -- and I'd had the real thing with Ginny -- I think she saw the appeal in it.

I think I'll pay a visit to the Bellagio once before calling on Ginny one last time.

Making progress

Gaining entry was easy under a glamour.  His fault he trusted me to be one of his bandmates.  A well-timed Imperius curse had Ginny under my control once again and it was delightful.

I'm so glad Parvati understands.

A second Imperius curse on him allowed me to contact his mother -- "Mom, I want to join you" -- and a ward that allowed only her inside completed my collection.

It has been arousing to keep him alive enough to watch me fuck Ginny.  How he fought when I tied her hands to the bed and fucked every orifice she offered.

It had to end, though, unfortunately.  After four days he was weak.  Pity I forgot to feed him.  I allowed his mother to kill him, then shot her with the sawed-off shotgun Ginny found for me.

I stroke her hair.  She looks up at me, eyes blank, then bends to suck my cock.

As I come, I set the two bodies on fire.  Ginny doesn't notice the smell as she straddles my lap to drive my cock into her.

I smile.

In a day or so, when I've had my fill of using Ginny Weasley, I'll leave her in this nondescript house outside Las Vegas.  I'll leave her enough food and water to last for a bit.  But what I shall enjoy most is knowing I bested them and had Ginny in the end.


The Trio has returned.  It was as if the air around me shivered.  How ironic given what I was doing at the time:  examining the latest production line of "action figures" designed to look like the Trio.  It amuses me to have a division of my company produce these -- especially to have emasculated Potter and Weasley.

Brendan, you're avoiding your guestsCollapse )

I meet her eyes.  That's all it takes for her to burst into laughter and for a laugh to escape me.  Despite that, our climaxes are quick.

I straighten my clothing as she stands.

"I'll be out in a minute," I grumble.

"Yes," she says with the tone of an order.  "If you don't, Lucius might decide to feast upon the guests."  She brushes a kiss against my lips before leaving the room.

Why did she invite them at all?  Dark Lords shouldn't have dinner parties.

Plots and plans

With the article on Saturday and the letters to the editor published this morning, I'm pleased with the first salvos in the war of words against the Trio.

I sit at my desk and pull a few papers toward me.  Some are contracts for my various businesses -- though most are now handled by others there are a few things I have to put my name to directly -- some are reports from informants on various people and entities, and yet others are reports about the Trio.

It seems Ms Granger was in Flourish & Blotts while she was in London.  I do hope she enjoyed what I've done with the place.

Parvati has made suggestions for what should be done when the Potters return, but I'm holding off until they arrive.  I would love to stage something similar to the derailment all those years ago, but that would be too obvious.  Instead, I'm going to wait.  What I've told no one is that I'm fairly sure Weasley's brats are part of the prophecy as well.  Before I do anything, I have to verify that since it will certainly change things.

Bridget Potter will be well-protected within the walls of Hogwarts, but they can't keep Emma and James Weasley there.  I can use that to my advantage.

I think it's about time to pay a visit to Rodolphus again.

When the cat's away...

The Golden Trio is returning.  They've delivered their acceptances via Hermione Granger.

The development is delightful.

Parvati -- under the guise of Padma for the last ten years -- has served well by my side.  Certainly much better than that bitch Dora would have.  We have standing in Muggle society and a lovely combination of fear and respect in the Wizarding world.

If there are some -- former Knights -- who consider "Padma" a traitor for associating intimately with the Son, none have said so to her face.  I don't know that they would dare.  Though I haven't murdered any of them since Padma and Terry's deaths -- which were Parvati's doing anyway -- they haven't forgotten my spree of Knightly deaths.

"Brendan?" Parvati calls.  I Apparate back to the bedroom.

She's dressed in very little, which will be nothing shortly.

"Did you learn something?" she asks softly, lying back on the bed as she does.

I unfasten my shirt.  "The Trio is returning."

She raises her eyebrows, then grins.  "Good.  It was getting boring."  Her grin widens as I unfasten my trousers.  "I see you're excited by the idea as well."

"You don't think this is because you're a delicious fuck?" I ask, kneeling between her spread legs.  Pulling her knickers to one side, I drive into her.

"No," she gasps.  "You're looking forward to the fight."

So I am.  Bridget Potter starts at Hogwarts.  Let the games begin.