Seeing that Barty and Regulus weren’t coming up for air anytime soon, Voldemort used that distraction as a way to measure his followers’ reactions. One could tell a lot by a man’s responses to something unexpected.
Lucius looked very much like he was trying with all his might not to roll his eyes. Severus didn’t bother to contain his impulses and rolled his eyes in a way that clearly said he wasn’t just exasperated with those two men, but with the whole bloody world. Crabbe and Goyle looked confused for the most part, which was honestly nothing new. Theodorus Nott was unable to hold back a sentimental smile, but then again, Theodorus was a closet romantic. Voldemort knew only too well, having shared a dormitory with the man for seven years and having had to live through every aspect of Dorus’ courtship with some Hufflepuff. Macnair looked utterly bored, as did the Carrow siblings. Yaxley, Avery, Travers and Rowle all seemed to have thoughtful frowns on their faces, probably wondering how they could use this new information to their own advantage.
“I’ve wanted to do this for years and years,” Barty finally said, sounding completely out of breath.
“Me too,” Regulus sighed and looked like he wanted to dive right back into snogging Barty, but enough was enough.
Voldemort cleared his throat while crossing his arms. “Gentlemen, as touching as this reunion has been, it is time to get back to our very busy agenda.”
Barty’s eyes widened, only now realizing what he’d done. He sprung away from Regulus as if suddenly burned and stared at Voldemort with an expression on his face that Voldemort hadn’t seen there for quite a long time. Barty looked afraid, probably not even so much for himself as for Regulus, seeing as Barty quickly stepped in front of his brand-new paramour.
“Just get back to your positions,” Voldemort snarled with an impatient wave of his hand. Barty flew across the ballroom back to his previous spot and Regulus ducked his head and studiously ignored Voldemort’s glares. “Very well.” Voldemort clasped his hands behind his back again and continued to walk up and down the row of Death Eaters. “An opportunity has come across our paths, one that fulfils all that we’ve desired for many decades.”
While giving his followers a secretive little smile, Voldemort strolled out of the ballroom. “Follow me.”
There was some confusion as everyone looked at everyone else before finally hurrying after their Lord who led them through the long hallway to the entranceway before opening the front doors and stepping outside.
The original gardens of the mansion had moved alongside the building, but further down the island’s flowery meadows stretched out for miles and miles, with young trees, barely reaching shoulder height, dotting the landscape. Voldemort walked along the garden path and down numerous steps until he reached the meadow. He waited patiently for his followers to gather near him before he turned to look at them again.
As if on cue, at that exact moment Harry’s dragon cousin came sailing by overhead, his large wings causing a flurry of wind to rustle all their black robes. Right behind the dragon came Sirius Black on his broom, urging the beast on in between loud bouts of laughter. To complete the spectacle, Harry’s beastly friend came tearing across the meadow in happy pursuit of Black and the dragon.
“Impossible!” Severus shouted, eyes wide and face greying at an alarming rate. “I saw him die! Black should be dead!”
Ah yes, Voldemort remembered how much Severus had always despised Black and his friends since their Hogwarts days.
“Breathe, man,” Lucius urged him in a harsh whisper since it looked like Severus might actually collapse in sheer shock.
“Welcome to Magica,” Voldemort said loudly, drawing everyone’s attention back to himself. “The first fully magical country in the world, where no muggle has ever set foot before and where all magic is legal.”
All his Death Eaters were now muttering while looking around in disbelief.
“My Lord,” Nott said while looking like he wasn’t sure if he’d just become the victim of a particularly cruel prank. “How is this possible?”
“My neighbour Harry,” Voldemort waved to the left where in the far distance Potter Castle was visible, “is very good at transfiguring seawater into brand-new land. He made this country from scratch.”
“Harry?” Alecto Carrow asked with a wrinkle of her nose. “Harry who?”
“Harry Potter,” Voldemort said with a terribly amused smile. “You may have heard of him.”
All his Death Eaters, save for the ones already in the know, were now looking at him as though he’d just lost his entire damned mind.
Voldemort hadn’t been this entertained in a long time. “Harry Potter, as you may have heard, grew up in a different world where he learned all kinds of magic. Including dark magic, which he uses quite a lot. You can imagine his disappointment when he realized most of the magic he is used to practicing is illegal in Britain. He solved this problem by creating a country of his own.”
“That is brilliant,” Nott whispered while a few others nodded in agreement.
Severus, who only just seemed to have recovered from the shock of seeing Black alive and well was scowling in a way that spoke very clearly about his disdain for anything related to Harry Potter.
“In this country,” Voldemort swept his arm around to indicate the wide landscape around them, “all magic is legal. All rituals are welcomed. All ancient holidays can be celebrated here with blood and sacrifice, as they should be.” This triggered even more muttering amongst his Death Eaters, now with a clearly enthusiastic edge to it. “However,” Voldemort continued, now calming his voice while giving his followers a contemplative look. “Living here comes at a price.”
“What price?” Lucius demanded, probably thinking he had more than enough gold at his disposal to pay any amount required.
Voldemort smiled at the eager faces of his followers. “Harry rules this island and he decides who lives here. And he has decided that all magical people are welcome here, no matter their heritage.”
“Mudbloods!” Amycus Carrow spat with a wrinkle of his nose. “Filth!”
“Indeed.” Voldemort gave a slow nod. “As of yet the majority of the magical folk who live here are werewolves.”
“No!” Macnair yelled in horror, just as Voldemort knew he would. “Those fucking monsters don’t deserve to live in a country like this.”
“That is not up to us to decide,” Voldemort pointed out patiently.
“My Lord,” Alecto Carrow said in a pleading voice, ducking her head a little in a half bow. “Could you not take this country for yourself, get rid of Potter and rule it as you please?”
Voldemort tilted his head as though he was taking his time mulling the situation over. “I could, I suppose, but I won’t.” There was a rush of muttered protests, but Voldemort silenced them by raising a hand. “Harry Potter is the best thing that has happened to the wizarding world in a long time. He is a dark wizard who believes all magic should be legal, and he is powerful enough to create a country for magical people only, which will give us an enormously strong position on the global political stage once the muggles discover us at some point in the future. Moreover, the public adores Harry Potter and he has a much better chance to get widespread acceptance of dark magic than anyone else does.” Voldemort waited a few moments while he gazed across his followers, looking each of them in the eyes. “If the price of that is living amongst mudbloods and werewolves, then I’ll happily pay that price. Whether or not you want to pay that price is up to you.”
There was a long moment of silence as everyone glanced at everyone else to gauge each other’s responses, until Nott cleared his throat. “My Lord, this mansion seems too old to have been build here since Potter’s return.”
“Ah yes,” Voldemort said, glad his old friend reminded him of this opportunity for his followers. “Harry is able to take any mansion plus its grounds and move it here to Magica. He has in fact moved the entirety of Black Manor here.”
“It’s true,” Barty added while the majority of the Death Eaters looked around in disbelief. “It sits to the west of here, with all the original grounds, forest and lake included.”
“In other words,” Voldemort said, glad to see at least some of his followers started looking like they might seriously entertain the idea of moving here. “You can take your homes and your land with you should you decide to move here.” Voldemort held up a hand when a few people looked like they wanted to say something. “You don’t have to decide right now. I understand many of you will want to discuss this opportunity with your spouses, parents, siblings or other family members. However, at this time we do not want the existence of Magica to become public just yet. Therefore I will arrange portkeys for all of you, so you can bring your family members here this evening to discuss this opportunity. Anyone who leaves here, including all of you, will sign a secrecy contract to ensure the existence of Magica is kept safe for the time being.”
“There’s no need for any of that for me,” Theodorus Nott said while everyone else discussed all they had learned. “When can my property be moved here? I’m not getting any younger and I want to live in a country where I can perform my family’s rituals without fear of discovery.”
Surprisingly, Lucius also seemed ready to accept the opportunity. “My Lord, I do want to discuss this with Narcissa, but I am certain she will gladly accept this opportunity.” Lucius stuck his nose in the air, his whole face a picture of distaste. “For years now, parts of the ministry, led by Arthur Weasley, like doing nothing better than raiding my mansion. I’ve had to give up large parts of our collection of dark artifacts that have been in our family for generations just to keep out of prison. I’m sick of it.”
Voldemort nodded in understanding. “The ministry can’t touch you here, Lucius.”
Avery, Mulciber, Rowle and Yaxley also seemed willing to make the move, though all of them did want to consult various family members first. Macnair and the Carrow siblings were the only ones who refused to even entertain the idea of living amongst mudbloods and werewolves, but Voldemort easily smoothed out any of their ruffled feathers by reassuring them that they could continue to serve him in Britain, where they all worked for the ministry in some capacity.
“I assume I am to remain at Hogwarts?” Severus said, looking as though he already knew the answer and not feeling particularly mournful about it.
“For now,” Voldemort said with a nod. “It is imperative that your cover remains intact while you spy on the old man. But afterwards, you are of course welcome to move here.” Voldemort turned away from Severus to address the whole group again. “For those who don’t have your own homes to move there is a free housing program. This might be interesting for any of your friends, family members or servants.”
There were more questions from his followers, which Voldemort answered to the best of his abilities, constantly emphasizing the potential threat of muggles while downplaying any distaste for muggleborns and it became clear that at least the majority of his followers were happy enough to go along with this new scenario. Eventually they all moved back into the mansion where Voldemort made sure they all signed secrecy contracts before he handed them a portkey to use that evening to bring any family members along to see the island and discuss a potential move to Magica.
Now all Voldemort had to do was corner Harry and put even more work on his plate, since Harry was as of yet the only one who could move homes from Britain to Magica.
++++++++++++++
“Harry,” Remus said slowly while his whole posture tightened up with obvious anxiety. “You don’t know Greyback.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Harry said, never breaking eye contact with Remus. “I know exactly what kind of man he is.”
“He’s very dangerous,” Remus insisted with a shake of his head. “He could easily hurt you.”
“I doubt that,” Harry said, grinning in a way that made it clear he knew a lot of things Remus didn’t. “Just tell me where to find him and I’ll do the rest. I’ll also take a very close look at his followers and save those that deserve a second chance.”
That seemed to do the trick for Remus because he exhaled a deep breath and nodded. “Greyback’s pack are hauled up in Galloway Forest Park in Scotland, near Dumfries. There is a magical section, hidden by muggle repellent wards, near Craigmalloch, where they’re hiding.”
“Thank you!” Harry said cheerfully. “That’s all I need to know.”
“Just be careful,” Remus urged him, just as the sound of a portkey arriving announced the first of the new residents. “Don’t underestimate Greyback.”
“Dumb wolf, dumb wolf,” V cawed, though whether he meant Remus or Greyback was left unclear.
The first few new residents were all single werewolves of different ages. One young man of barely twenty-five gave a heartfelt sigh when Remus asked him what he was good at and wanted to do.
“I’ve always wanted to be a baker,” Reginald Partridge said with a wistful smile. “My grandmother, a muggle, owned a bakery in Portsmouth. I wanted to work there, but my magical family forbid it, said it was beneath them. Of course, then I got lycanthropy and suddenly I was beneath them.”
Harry gave Reginald the same deal he’d given Billy Malone and his pub. Reginald got a shop and the flat above it on a housing contract, and Harry gave him a small interest-free loan to get his business started.
The oldest of the new single residents was well into his sixties and was named Ernest Mccallum.
“Do you allow crups?” was the first thing Ernest asked. “It’s just, I’ve got five of them back at my old place. I breed them, sell them for a bit of money, aside from growing some magical plants for potions ingredients.”
“They’re allowed,” Harry said at once, remembering his parents telling him about these small, magical dogs. “Do you have a home you want to see moved?”
Ernest blinked at Harry with wide eyes. “I’ve got a lovely little cottage with a bit of land, inherited from my aunt. It’s what’s kept me from becoming homeless all these years, after I got infected and my wife left me and took the kids with her. I could at least grow my own food and such.”
“I can move it here, land and all, tomorrow afternoon,” Harry assured him, which seemed to make Ernest’s entire week if his bright smile was any indication.
Next was a couple in their fifties. “Melissa and Leon Greengrass,” Melissa said by way of introduction, which caused Remus to look up in surprise, though Harry had no idea why. “I’m a half-blood,” Melissa continued with a polite little smile. “My sister moved here recently. She’s a werewolf.”
“You’re welcome here,” Harry said, waving them over towards the desk full of documents. “All magical users are welcome here, no matter their heritage.”
Leon didn’t move an inch, but only stared at Harry in clear defiance. “I’m a squib.”
Harry didn’t know what to do or say for a moment, because he’d honestly forgotten all about squibs, though his family had told him about them often enough. “You’re welcome here,” Harry said at last, since that seemed the most important thing to get across. “I recently learned that my great-grandmother, Bernadine Potter-Smith, had three sisters of which one was a squib. Bernadine was always against the separation of squibs from the wizarding world and she kept in touch with her sister during her whole life even when her sister was forced to attend a muggle school and lived out her life in the muggle world.”
Leon seemed to deflate a little, shoulders drooping and head bowing a bit. “I am glad to hear that, because to this day it is expected of squibs to leave the wizarding world entirely.”
“I never understood that,” Remus said with a thoughtful frown. “Squibs are not muggles. You may not have enough magic in you to perform spells, but you are magical. For one, muggle-repellent wards have no effect on you. Also, potions, which do nothing for muggles, work on squibs.”
“All excellent points,” Harry agreed and then he got an idea. “Leon, you seem like a man who is not ashamed of who and what he is. I have a proposition for you.”
Leon seemed intrigued enough to give Harry a careful nod. “I’d be happy to hear what you have in mind.”
“I’m sure you know other squibs who’d enjoy living on a magical island, so invite them over,” Harry said, warming up to the subject and knowing Bernadine would be thrilled once he shared all this with her. “Once you have a few squibs living here, I would love for you to try out what kinds of magic squibs can and cannot do. Think herbology, runes, potions, rituals and anything else you can think of. Once we know exactly how much magic squibs actually do have, we can find suitable magical things for you to do.”
Leon swallowed a few times and briefly looked away. “I’d be happy to do that,” he said, his voice a little too soft and too rough.
Melissa stepped in to give her husband a chance to collect himself. “I’m a tailor. I’ve mostly worked in the muggle world, but I’ve always used magic when mending or sewing clothes.”
“You can easily start a clothing shop here,” Harry said, glad to see they had yet another new trade to add to their collection of shops on the island. “You might want to offer a bit of everything at first, since we have such a small community still. Some second-hand clothing, some repair work and new clothing as you see fit.”
“That would work,” Melissa said eagerly. “I can start working from home and eventually, when there are enough customers around, open a little shop.”
“That’s an excellent plan,” Harry agreed.
“We have two children,” Leon said, now visibly calmer again. “Our oldest is a quidditch player for the Kenmare Kestrels. Our youngest attends Hogwarts in her sixth year. She’s a Ravenclaw. Both of them have magic.”
“Interesting,” Harry said with a thoughtful frown. “So squibs are capable of producing magical children just fine. And of course, your youngest can call Magica home when she’s not at Hogwarts. All homes have three bedrooms, and you can always add more.”
That seemed to please Melissa and Leon and they were quick to read through all the paperwork and sign what needed signing before Remus sent them to live at Ash Drive number 4.
The last new residents of the day were another couple named Louisa and Clyde Hewitt, who looked to be in their late twenties, perhaps early thirties.
“I’m a half-blood,” Louisa explained without reservation. “Clyde’s a muggleborn. My dad, Ernest, is a werewolf and told us about this place.”
“We just met him earlier today,” Remus said while he handed out documents.
“I make soap and other beauty products,” Louisa said while Clyde paged through all the paperwork. “I’ve got a small store in Blackpool, that does really good business in the summer and around the holidays. I’ve got staff running it, so I can open a small store here as well.”
“We haven’t got anything like that yet,” Harry assured her, again happy to have more types of crafts available on the island.
“I’m a beekeeper,” Clyde said once everything was signed. “I rent out hives to farmers for pollination, and I can easily transport a chunk of them here and sell the honey and wax for candles.” Clyde frowned for a moment and then looked at Harry with arched eyebrows. “I suppose I could sell hives as well, and perhaps offer beekeeping classes.”
“I think lots of people will be interested in that, myself included.” Harry had kept bees before, but that had been a while ago and he was curious to see how people with wizarding magic took care of their hives. “Sign me up for your first class.”
Louisa and Clyde headed off to Poplar Lane number 3 and Harry bid Remus goodbye. Talk about keeping bees did remind Harry that he probably should get started on building up the livestock on his own property and he knew exactly where to go.
Arnold Milner, the older man who sold veggie seeds and chickens from his front yard showed Harry what he still had available.
“These five are all I have left. Four young pullets just about ready to lay and one cockerel. They’re copper and black Marans. Decent egg layers, but also makes for a nice enough meat bird,” Arnold explained while he showed off the five clucking birds in their crate.
“I’ll take them, and throw in a bag of feed as well,” Harry said, not too worried what kind they were exactly. As long as they laid a few eggs each a week they’d keep him nicely fed.
“Business has been booming,” Arnold said with a huge grin while accepting Harry’s gold. “Everyone’s been wanting chickens. I’m getting more first thing in the morning.”
Harry balanced the crate in front of him on his broom, using a little magic to keep the whole thing from keeling over, and he flew the slightly panicky birds quickly to his castle. He had plenty of scrap wood available in his huge pile of firewood in one of the storage rooms in the cellar, and he quickly transfigured a nice, sizable chickencoop for his new birds. He instructed Slate the house-elf inferius how to look after the birds, when the feed, water and clean them, and since there were no predators like foxes or birds of prey on the island yet, the chickens could free-range as much as they wanted.
“Dumb birds, dumb birds,” V cawed while glaring at the pecking chickens in clear disdain.
“I thought you loved eggs?” Harry looked at his companion in confusion while he filled the waterer.
“Eggs very good, birds very dumb,” V chattered, and Harry rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back a chuckle.
That job done, Harry decided he should get something to eat before starting on his mission to totally annihilate Greyback. While Harry sat at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of wine, Violet quickly put together a simple dinner for him of roasted potatoes, braised cabbage and some juicy sausages. Harry ate it all, still slightly in disbelief that he finally had someone to do his cooking for him.
Keket wasn’t anywhere in the castle, and Harry suspected she was playing with Rigel the dragon again as she had come to enjoy. Harry considered bringing Keket along, since she adored slaughtering kiddie-fuckers, but the downside to that was that Keket loved to play with her prey and by the time she was done not much would be left of them.
And Harry had plans for any dead body he’d run across from now on. Voldemort’s warnings about the threat muggles formed hadn’t been forgotten, and Harry had slowly, carefully constructed some plans for defensive strategies over the last day. And one of those plans needed plenty of dead bodies.
Harry looked up the coordinates of the Galloway Forest Park, and apparated to the edge of it just as the sun was setting. V took to the sky while Harry mounted his broom and flew across the trees in a north-east direction where Greyback and his pack were hidden away. After ten minutes or so Harry felt the magical wards as he crossed them so he knew he was headed in the right direction. Darkness had fallen completely at that point, but Harry didn’t need his eyes to sense any number of souls gathered beneath the trees and he kept his powers stretched out in search of the pack.
As he flew, Harry realized he probably shouldn’t be swooping in and killing Greyback outright. He was still new in this world, and he was a reasonably unknown factor to the residents of Magica. Back on Sildar, after decades of building and ruling and caring, Harry had earned the absolute trust of the people living there. So if Harry said someone deserved to die, people believed him and didn’t blink an eye when Harry took care of any threats, locally or across the continent.
But he didn’t have this kind of metaphorical armour yet in the wizarding world, and people might not appreciate Harry acting like judge, jury and executioner simply because he felt like it. No, he was probably better off provoking an attack and then acting in ‘self-defence’. That way no one could hold his actions against him.
Harry sensed the souls before he spotted the few dots of light made by campfires hidden mostly by the thick canopy of mature pines. Hovering in the air, Harry waited for V to land on the handle of his broomstick.
“Watch my back, V,” Harry whispered to his companion.
V bobbed his head. “Quick kill, quick kill. Bad wolf, bad wolf.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can without looking like a murder squad,” Harry assured V while he gently steered his broom down through the trees until he felt the ground beneath his feet. It was almost completely dark on the forest floor, but Harry couldn’t just see the small pricks of light of the campfires, he could also sense about thirty souls gathered around them.
“Good evening to you, good people!” Harry called out, putting on his bombastic persona, though it didn’t feel quite right anymore without his long hair and wild beard. “I have come to bring you the good news of Magica!”
“What the fuck?” a nearby man said as he sprung to his feet. Probably a sentry who had been dozing off on the job.
“Hello, hello!” V cawed, also getting into character.
“My name is Harry Potter, and I have come to invite you to live in Magica, the first all magical country in the world,” Harry continued, not slowing down his strides until he was standing close to the nearest campfire where a dozen or so children and women were gathered. “As long as you obey our laws, all are welcome there.”
Silence greeted him while the people before him stared up at him with wide eyes and opened mouths. All looked dirty and dishevelled and too thin. Behind them several men approached with scowls on their faces.
And then Harry heard it, faint but clear, in the distance. The sound of a small child whimpering in pain and fear, while an adult man grunted and groaned in pleasure. It took everything Harry had not to jump back on his broom, fly in that direction and rip the soul clear out of that man’s body.
“You’re not welcome here!” One of the men to his right snarled, stained, chipped teeth on clear display. Had none of these people heard of personal hygiene?
“Hello, hello,” V cawed again, proving an excellent distraction while Harry pushed his powers forward to seek out their souls. If things went south quickly, Harry could execute dozens of people at once this way.
“All who want to leave here can come with me, to live in Magica where no one will hurt you ever again.” Harry made eye contact with all the children, some as young as six or seven, others in their teens. “I promise. You’ll be safe.”
“You need to fuck off right now!” Another man to his left snarled, rushing him. Harry wrapped his power around the man’s soul, halting him in his tracks. It wasn’t enough to kill the man, but it was enough to make him feel dread as he’d never done before, as though the Grim Reaper was suddenly standing right behind him and had his bony hand wrapped around the man’s neck.
“What the fuck is going on?” came a bellow from the dark trees. A huge man emerged, belting up his stained and torn trousers while a boy no more than five slunk after him, grimy face smeared with tears. One of the women waved the boy closer. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Harry Potter, and I come bearing good news!” Harry proclaimed while he stared Fenrir Greyback right into his yellow eyes.
“I don’t give a fuck. You have five seconds to get out of here before I eat you.” Fenrir bared sharp, browned teeth, while his clawed fingers made tearing motions.
“I won’t leave without those kids,” Harry said, dropping his bombastic persona, suddenly dead serious. “You’ve hurt them enough.”
Greyback didn’t waste anymore time on words and took a giant leap in Harry’s direction, claws outstretched and yellow eyes glowing. Harry raised one hand and let lose a burst of red light, as though he’d just cast a spell, that hit Greyback in the chest. The moment it did, Harry yanked Greyback’s soul right out of his body and the man dropped down to the forest floor with a muffled thump, dead.
Harry didn’t want people to know what he could do with their souls. People tended to get really nervous once they realized you literally held their lives in the palm of your hand. Better they believe Harry had used some dangerous, obscure spell to kill his enemy.
At once several other men sprang towards Harry, crying out in outrage. V flew off and threw himself at one man’s face, clawing at his eyes while flapping his wings furiously. Harry repeated the act of throwing around bolts of red lights while pulling souls from bodies as many times as he needed before no more people tried to attack him. Looking around, Harry saw that all the adult men were dead, and what was left was several women and a bunch of kids.
“Line up,” Harry said when all they did was stare at him. “I need to see if you’re suitable for living on the island.”
Trembling with fear, but terrified of defying him, the women and children got to their feet. Harry examined each of them, by feeling their souls and by using Legilimency. None of them had mental defences and none even seemed to understand what was going on. One of the older teenage boys had a very troubled mind, since he’d unfortunately had learned to enjoy the sense of power that came with hurting others as a direct consequence of the abuse he himself had suffered for years and years. Harry obliviated a good chunk of that trauma from his mind, hoping this would get rid of most of those urges, but he would still keep a very close eye on the boy for a while.
After sending off his Patronus to Remus, telling him to meet him at Town Square and to have some more contracts ready, Harry picked up several pinecones and turned them into portkeys.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Harry told the people before him gently. “We’re going to portkey to Magica, where my friend Remus will welcome you and have some paperwork for you to read and sign.”
“Don’t know how to read,” one of the middle-aged women muttered. “Or write.”
“We’ll read it out loud for you,” Harry said quickly. “And you can write a symbol instead of your name.” Harry briefly cleared his throat. “You’ll get a house for the night, and tomorrow I can build you a big house so you can all stay together, if that is what you want.”
More than a few vigorous nods were given in reply to that.
“All right. Take hold of these pinecones, make sure everyone’s touching some part of it.” When they were all standing in position, Harry activated the portkeys and the twenty or so werewolves disappeared before his eyes. Harry immediately got out a crate from his satchel, one who had plenty of space on the inside, and he added some preservation charms to it. Then he loaded up every single dead body. Finally, he doused the fires with a stream of water from his wand and apparated to Town Square in Magica, where he saw Remus working hard to keep everyone calm, since apparently no one had travelled by portkey before and it had freaked them all the fuck out.
It took a while, but they got everyone settled after they signed the contracts. Harry conjured some simple furniture for them, some chairs and beds, and he had Violet prepare some filling, hot food for them, enough that would see them through breakfast. He also gently pointed them to the bathroom where he had Lavender lay out plenty of soap and towels.
“We’ll get them a more permanent home tomorrow,” Harry said to Remus as they both finally walked out of the house, leaving a whole bunch of dazed and anxious werewolves behind.
“And schooling,” Remus added with a frown. “Not a single one knows how to read and write.”
“Well,” Harry said with a grin. “We already have one volunteer teacher. I’ll send Quirrell a note in the morning.”
Harry flew back to his castle, but even though he was tired to the bone he didn’t want to wait setting up the first in the line of many defences around the island.
“Bed, bed. Sleep, sleep,” V cawed when Harry flew right past his castle to the most eastern point of the island.
“Not just yet, my friend.” Harry touched down on the rock and got his wand out while V landed on his shoulder to give him a critical glare. “We’ve got a bunker to build.” And that is exactly what Harry did. He created an underground chamber in the rocks, where he stashed the bodies and turned them into slumbering inferi. They weren’t active just yet, but could be activated by a single burst of magic in case of an emergency. Then he closed the bunker off with a magical trapdoor, which anyone authorised could open with a tap of their wands. The trapdoors would eventually be connected to each other around the edges of the island, and would be triggered automatically the moment someone without magic crossed the invisible line.
In other words, should muggles one day decide to invade Magica, an army of the undead would rise from the ground the greet them. Well, eventually. Right now, Harry had one bunker ready, but he needed many more inferi to fill other bunkers around the island.
It was almost three in the morning when Harry finally fell into bed, utterly exhausted. He’d already missed a good night’s sleep thanks to the Hogwarts library, and now he was also running behind on some much needed rest yet again.
Harry wasn’t sure what time it was the next morning when a loud banging woke him up abruptly. He could hear Igor shuffling across the stone floors to open the door while the banging went on and on. Harry hauled himself out of bed and walked almost drunkenly across the hallway and down the stairs just as Igor opened the door to reveal a mob of people.
Seriously, it seemed like most of Spellbridge stood in front of his door and not a single one of them looked happy to be there.
“Harry, what the fuck,” Rachel said from her position in the front of the mob. “Why are Greyback’s people suddenly living here?”
“Monsters!” cried a voice from the back.
“They don’t belong here!” someone else called.
Harry closed his eyes and ran a tired hand down his face while he leaned against the doorpost. Now there was this shit to deal with.