Good Intentions

A/N: Finally, it is finished! Not betaed so be warned, there may be errors. Thank you so much for the reviews, they definitely helped when I had writer’s block and the characters were being little, uncooperative brats.

Many thanks go out to Eavia le Fay and Akoya for their help with the plot and characters respectively! Without your feedback, this chapter would not have been possible!

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Emphasis, Article Heading, setting info
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Good Intentions
By: SheWolfe7

Chapter IV: Celebration II

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The Ballroom
Palacio d’Asturias, Oviedo, Spain
Tuesday the 24th of December 1974
9:20 PM


Apolinar inwardly scowled at the crush of people filling the ballroom. It really was ridiculous to have so many guests attend a celebration. He didn’t envy his nephew. The dancing was scheduled to start at ten o’clock and at midnight the gifts would be opened and half those present would be waiting to personally present Anastas with small tokens of their affection or esteem. Despite the carefree manner of the guests, everyone was just waiting to see how Anastas would react.

Lavish affairs like these were simply ways to show off one’s wealth, power and influence to others of near or equal status. Tradition dictated the elaborate ways social status was fought over and marriage was among the best ways to aspire to new heights. Those with aspirations of grandeur, or those who drooled at the thought of the Lund fortune, had come from every corner of the world to woo his nephew. Tonight was a family affair of the highest order. It went without saying that the Torres Family would not allow Anastas to be married into any inferior Family. Only those with the purest and most influential pedigrees would be allowed to court Anastas and eventually earn the right to marry him.

While the champagne flowed freely and polite conversation was exchanged, a more subtle game had already commenced. The would-be suitors had begun to vie for positioning, all eagerly wanting a chance to dance with Anastas and make a good impression in the few minutes they would have alone. Meanwhile the Family had been mobbed with inquires about Anastas as guests pried for the smallest tidbit of information, hoping to find out what exactly the Torres’ were looking for in a spouse for Anastas. Being more than well versed in the word games, Apolinar had politely given nothing away as he mingled among the guests.

Having made a polite escape to the terrace overlooking the gardens Apolinar had hoped to get a few minutes to himself when an old friend joined him.

“You look fatigued and it’s not even been three hours yet,” A smooth tenor called out.

Apolinar glanced over his shoulder, surprised. “Tancred, you’re finally back from your adventure and you didn’t even have the time to tell me! What a horrid friend you are!”

“You know how things get when I’m away for so long, my correspondence could have filled up a sitting room, easily.” Tancred replied grinning widely.

“There are days where I envy you, old friend. You do as you please and answer to no one, what a life! No pressing duties to drag you out of bed early in the morning, no conniving relations to watch out for and best of all, no wife or children that need your constant attention and guidance. Affairs like these are exhausting but I’ll tell you now, it’s a thousand times worse when you’re related to the prize that’s got all the sharks circling.”

Tancred snickered, “Even though he’s tender meat no one is going to do anything but watch him for now. There’s no doubt that he’s the best marriage prospect in the Haute Monde but no one’s forgotten what he is either, and no one wants a repeat of what happened in Greece. Aside from the fact that it’s been ages since I saw you last, Uncle Cuthbert all but hounded me to present myself to your nephew.”

“Tancred…you’re old enough to be his father!” Apolinar sputtered.

The dark haired man held his hands out in surrender. “I didn’t say I was going to pursue your nephew Apolinar! I’m just making a point that if my lone wolf of an Uncle is trying to marry me off, the world is surely ending.”

Apolinar grimaced, “True, your Uncle despises the thought of marriage and for him to suggest you pursue anyone is…surprising.”

“That’s not even the worst! His godson is here too and Malfoy will be watching to make sure I present myself to the child. Honestly there are days I wish I had remained an unclaimed orphan.”

“Don’t talk like that old friend! Come along, I’ll introduce you to Anastas that way the old grouch will leave you alone for a while longer. Though you really should think about getting married, you are the sole heir to the Peverell Family.”

Tancred groaned, “Don’t start Apolinar! I’m only thirty-four and more than capable of siring children!”

Apolinar chuckled. “You realize, I can’t even imagine you as a father…”

“That’s fine with me; I’m not looking forward to getting shackled to anyone. Maybe I’ll take a page from your brother’s book and just adopt an Heir.”

“You’d best hope you get an ordinary foundling then or you’ll be in for a world of trouble and you’ve not nearly enough family to help with the damage control!” Apolinar joked as the two walked back into the ballroom.

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Anastas was distracted to put it lightly. He was surrounded by hundreds of guests, besieged by numerous wizards and witches eager to make his acquaintance and under the hawk eyed gaze of Odysseus and dozens of Asturian Royal Guardsmen. In addition to those annoyances his immediate attention was divided into matching names to faces and rating how useful said guest would be to his goals, and listening to the voices of his therapontes-- who circled the room, reporting interesting conversations they overheard.

Most Harpies had a therapôn, an elemental spirit that served as a sort of familiar and/or companion, depending on the Harpy’s personality. Some, like him, had several therapontes at their service. It was an open secret that the more powerful a Harpy was, the more therapontes they had.

Archelaus was said to have two dozen, the majority of which were fire spirits and partly the reason why the Squall had been capable of creating so much destruction. All Harpies were naturally attuned to the wind element and the vast majority of Harpies also had a natural affinity to water. Fire and earth affinity were rarer cases, Archelaus being a prime example of the former, but were not unheard of. It was even theorized that it could be possible for a Harpy to have a natural ability to create ice or control lightning.

Anastas thought the Harpies placed too much emphasis on elemental affinities. Odysseus may have been surprised by his singular affinity for air, as most Squalls had dual affinities; but Anastas had put all his years of Muggle science classes to good use. Anyone could learn to control weather as long as they understood how to create certain weather conditions. In his case, as he only had affinity for air, he used his Wizard magic to heat or cool air currents he controlled using his wind attuned therapontes which allowed him to control moisture condensation and evaporation. Idly, he wondered what Hermione would have thought of him mixing Muggle concepts and applying it to magical situations.

Brought out of his inner musings, he turned to his right at the prompting of his therapontes. Spotting his Uncle Apolinar approaching with another man in tow behind him, he gestured to two of the guards closest to him while murmuring his apologies to the guests he had just been introduced to. The guards led the two guests away while the others kept the guests waiting for introductions at bay a little longer. Anastas was thankful for the guards whose presence kept the eager guests from acting inappropriately and kept them in a semblance of order, if they hadn’t been assigned to him in such numbers he knew he would be well out of his depth. To his amusement, he had a larger crowd around him than his grandfather who was hosting the event.

Apolinar grinned as he came to a stop several feet in front of him, “You’re doing well by yourself, where did your father go?”

“Mr. Ingesson and he went to retrieve some papers I signed the other day.”

“Ah, well I’m sure he’ll be back in time for the dancing,” Apolinar replied, turning to his friend. “Tancred, this is my nephew Anastas Lund-Torres, nephew this is my good friend Tancred Peverell. I figured I would introduce you both now before the dancing starts and the madness erupts.”

Anastas rolled his eyes, “That’s one way of putting it! It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Peverell.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Lund-Torres. Are you enjoying the evening so far?” Tancred asked smiling.

“It has been…interesting, I’ve met a great number of people. I admit this was not how I pictured celebrating Christmas but it is nice to have so many to celebrate with.”

Tancred smiled knowingly, “I know exactly what you mean, I grew up in a Muggle orphanage too until my Uncle Cuthbert was able to track me down at last when I was all of nine years old.”

Anastas chuckled softly. “Is that so? Then it seems as though I’m not the only foundling who has stumbled rather blindly into the Wizarding World!”

“No, you certainly aren’t!” Tancred replied laughing. “Although I’m sure the adjustment was a bit more difficult for you in some ways. You were found much later than I, though you have a great deal more family members to help you adjust than I did. My uncle had only just taken the reins as the Head of the Peverell Family and he told me several years later that it was far easier to track down the son of his cousin than to go through the hassle of finding a suitable wife and having a child of his own to secure the succession.”

“I sometimes wonder what Father’s reasons are though since he’s a Seer, I dare not ask him outright. In the end I suppose his reasons matter little as the Family has treated me, pardon the pun, like a prince.”

Apolinar smiled and excused himself, pleased to see the two getting along well. Out of all the guests so far, he would venture that Tancred had received the liveliest response from his nephew. Likely because they had so much in common, Apolinar decided. He had no problems with Tancred pretending to pay court on his nephew, after all neither were really looking for a potential spouse and Tancred was a close friend, he would never really pursue Anastas.

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Watching as Anastas’s father rejoined the boy and politely dismissed Tancred, Lucius scowled darkly. At this moment, he could not hate the heir to the Peverell Family more.

Lucius had known Tancred all his life and had disliked the way the other wizard drew away his father and brother’s attention. Undeniably, Tancred was powerful and talented, as one might expect of someone whose occupation was a Scholar of Ancient Wizarding Rites and Relics. He was an enigma however, one that Lucius had yet to solve. Why would he pursue such a dangerous and exotic career, if he was heir to one of the most prominent Families in Europe? Lucius knew that Tancred was passionate about his work and endlessly fascinated with ancient Wizarding rites and relics. But in some way, he could not help but think that there was more to the older wizard’s fascination with ancient rites and relics than met the eye.

Now, however, was not the time to begin pondering the mystery behind Tancred Peverell. Lucius knew he was lucky to receive an invitation, the Malfoys were not Haute Monde (something that would likely change in another generation or two) and the only direct connection they had to the Torres Family was through Anastas. He had seen Regulus Black briefly, but knew from conversations with the younger boy that his father Orion was well acquainted with Anastas’ father, Evaristo. How they had come to be friends was unknown to both Regulus and he, Orion had attended Hogwarts like all the Blacks before him but Evaristo had been privately tutored here at the Palacio. The latter fact was well known; as Evaristo had been trained by Trophonius Trelawney who, like his mother Cassandra Trelawney, was a gifted Seer.

“If you decide to meddle, be careful not to get in Tancred’s way, Lucius.”

Startled out of his musing, Lucius turned and spotted his brother. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cassius sighed. “I am merely warning you to be cautious. A match between you two would surely be a great stepping stone for the Family but look around you, do you think you can compete with a quarter of these guests? Do you see that family who is being presented right now? They aren’t flaunting their wealth as much as some of the guests but that’s the Delgado Family.”

“The Azorean Royalty?” (1)

“Yes and you’ll recall that they rule a bit differently than traditional monarchies. The King will select an appropriate heir and it doesn’t have to be a legal child for that matter. All but the eldest three are unspoken for and I can guarantee that they’ve set their sight on your friend as a spouse. I don’t doubt for one minute that if one of them managed to sign a marriage contract with the Lund-Torres Heir that they would immediately be named Crown Prince. Do you understand now? I don’t doubt your determination but the true question is whose determination is greater? Yours or someone like them? And don’t think for a moment that there aren’t others with goals like that too. While there are not many Purebloods of Royal pedigree that are unspoken for who seek a match so openly, there are hundreds of minor nobles who would be all too pleased to claim a Prince as a spouse.”

Lucius glared at the people surrounding Anastas, “I won’t give up so easily Cassius.”

“Good,” Cassius smiled. “Father and I are counting on you. If you need any help, do not hesitate to ask.”

Without another word the older wizard left, leaving Lucius to ponder what course of action to take next. His best advantage was that he was Anastas’ friend and they attended school together and shared most of the same classes. It was an advantage he would use once school resumed but for now, perhaps the best thing he could do was evaluate his rivals and find any exploitable weaknesses. Satisfied with his current plans, Lucius melted into the crowd of guests, slowly working his way around the cluster of guests around Anastas.

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Estavan smiled as he stood on the dais next to where the orchestra waited. The evening was going well so far and dancing would commence after he finished his speech. Tiziana stood next to him, smiling as she looked over their guests. They waited as the guards cleared the dance floor, the guests moving aside all looking eager. Behind him, he could sense his family and siblings speaking softly. Ten minutes later he stepped forward and addressed his guests.

“Tonight, among friends and family, we have gathered to celebrate! I hope that the food and drink has upheld my Family’s honor and I hope that you will be suitably entertained once the dancing has begun. My Family and Asturias have much to be thankful for as the year comes to an end. Firstly, Asturias has again passed another year with no strife or struggle and the Torres Family remains seated upon the throne! Secondly, the Torres Family has been blessed with good health and our endeavors have proven fruitful. Thirdly, I would extend congratulations to my daughters Her Serene Highnesses Eloisa and Elvira, who will be wed this June here in Oviedo!” Estavan paused here and there, allowing for applause.

“Finally, my son Evaristo has deigned at last to name an Heir, who I am proud to welcome into my family! My grandson Anastas has brought much joy to my household and his marriage will bestow a great honor to the one fortunate enough to win his hand. Tonight among such good company, I have decided to be blunt. The majority of those who grace the Palacio with their presence tonight were invited specifically because of their interest in aligning their Family to mine, via marriage to my grandson Anastas. After careful consideration and consultation with other interested parties, I have chosen to invoke the Amello Clause which will come into effect upon the turn of the New Year.”

Shock spread across the room at the announcement.

Estavan glanced around the room with mild amusement. “We will accept invitations to commence Anterior Courtship Rituals from all interested parties who are of marriageable age and no older than thirty years, beginning immediately on January 1st until February 9th. Replies rejecting or accepting ACR proposals will be received no later than March 15th and the first Soiree has been set for Saturday April 19th. As per the Amello Clause, if a contract is signed, marriage may take place as soon as my grandson reaches his sixteenth birthday. Now that I have finished with the announcements, enjoy the rest of the evening!”

Immediately the orchestra began playing and Estavan led his wife in a pavane. Once they had completed one full circle of the floor, Apolinar and the rest of the Torres’ joined the dance. Anastas had been paired with his older cousin Cyril, who was the Warlord Presumptive, since his father had been paired with his great-grandmother the Princess Dowager. After the pavane ended, Cyril led Anastas back to the dais where Evaristo had the unfortunate task of selecting dance partners for his son.

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Severus resisted the urge to sigh, deeming such an action far too dramatic.

In a way, he truly pitied his best friend. As prideful as Lucius was about his blood and connections, there was no way he would ever have a formal relationship with Anastas. Yes there was a good possibility that he could become Anastas’s lover but there was a vast difference between one’s lover and one’s spouse. There was no way the Torres Family would allow Anastas to choose Lucius over the hundreds, if not thousands, of far more eligible suitors that were already clambering around the young Harpy.

Not that any of that would stop Lucius, Severus mused. He would bet his gold cauldron that the fact that Anastas was unattainable only added to Lucius’ zeal. Lucius could not be reasoned with; Severus had already tried several times and had lost dismally to Lucius’s stubbornness. If there was one thing he absolutely despised about his best friend, it was the fact that once he was fixated on a task, he could not be swayed.

Mentally cursing, Severus bowed politely and asked another eligible to dance. Why oh why, had he agreed to help Lucius collect information on potential rivals again? As he swept his partner off into a lively galliard, he promised himself that someday he would learn to tell his best friend no and actually follow through.

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The Solarium
Gravari Hall, Pindus Mountains, Greece
Tuesday the 24th of December 1974
11:02 PM


Meagara glanced around the room disdainfully, wondering why her parents had accepted the invitation to celebrate with the Gravari Tempest. While the Gravari Harpies were an old and established family, they produced Halcyons more often than Squalls and did not compare to her own family. Practically the only advantage the Gravari Harpies now had was that the current patriarch had been made the mentor of the newest Squall Harpy, the wizard born Anastas Lund-Torres.

Now he was a truly interesting enigma. Since his Inheritance gossip had spread Tempest to Tempest. While not a purebred Harpy his connection to the Focalor Family made him a little more respectable, although his greatest appeal was the possibility of infusing new blood into an older, established bloodline. To Meagara, the latter was what made the wizard born Squall a possible marriage prospect.

It would be difficult to meet the Lund-Torres heir though. Considering his familial connections, it went without saying that he would be particularly sought after by other wizards and witches. Having only recently come into his Inheritance, the younger Squall may not have any interest in further entangling himself in Harpy politics when he was already so solidly entrenched in Wizarding intrigue. Of course, there was always the possibility that he would desire a different sort of mate to escape said intrigue but realistically, one would not flee a known situation for an unknown situation.

Across the room, she glimpsed her hated rival Io whose presence had drawn away her own suitors. The two glared, eyes narrowed in mutual hatred.

Slender and dark haired, with soft gray eyes, Io’s dark beauty contrasted vividly against her fairer coloring and curvaceous form. Though she was a year older and from a more reputable family, the younger girl was charismatic where she was more austere and formal. To the male Harpies, Io was more approachable as a person and their courtship would be more readily accepted by the dark haired girl’s family. It was little wonder why the two hated each other, they were opposites and as both were Squalls they did not appreciate the other encroaching on what they considered to be their ‘territory’.

“…spending the day at Focalor Aerie.”

Meagara turned slightly to the side, the better to hear the conversation between Aglaia Gravari and Theia Pagonis.

“Have you met your husband’s student?”

“Not yet, I am looking forward to meeting him. Odysseus has told me some very interesting things about the tiercel.”

Theia leaned in. “Is he truly a red wing? I’ve never heard of a red winged Harpy.”

“Odysseus mentioned it but wing colors can take several years to settle properly.”

Midas Drivakis joined the two older women. “Ah, but it’s said that Archelaus’s wings never changed colors.”

Aglaia snorted, “Black wings are as common as dandelions.”

“True, true. Now…if he had been a white wing, that would be a different story.”

Theia rolled her eyes. “No Harpy has ever been unfortunate enough to be a white wing.”

“There’s a reason behind him being a red wing, I’m sure of it.”

“Perhaps it’s because he’s wizard born? I’ve never heard of a wizard born Squall Harpy.” Midas commented.

Aglaia glanced around the room, “Athena would know, now where has she gone?”

Meagara frowned as her hair was blown off her shoulder by a not so errant breeze. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Io walking towards her, smiling cheerfully while her gray eyes looked as flat as granite.

“It doesn’t matter what he is or if there’s significance about his wing color, I’ll have him at my feet like a good puppy.”

“You’re a fool then. No Squall of good breeding would ever lower themselves to becoming a mate’s toy.” Meagara retorted icily.

Io laughed, “Do you think you know men that well?”

“I don’t know men, I know Harpies.” Meagara shot back venomously.

Io’s eyes darkened at the slur. “I won’t lose him to you.”

Meagara straightened, “Funny, that’s just what I was thinking.”

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The Ballroom
Palacio d’Asturias, Oviedo, Spain
Tuesday the 24th of December 1974
10:34 PM


Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him. (2)

They were words borrowed from a Muggle novelist. Words her friend had written to her several days after the fall of Grindelwald. And these were the words that had haunted her every moment since she had first read them.

Araceli Cordozo-- Princess Dowager of the Kingdom of Asturias was, by no means, an innocent to the cruelties of the world and its people. She had never been called a great beauty, the Cordoza Family had ranked at the lower end of the Haute Monde and she had been put through hell when the charming and idealistic Cleto Torres had set his eyes on her, decades ago. Yet she had faced every challenge and every torment with her head high and her mind ready.

Together they had had devoted their lives to making Asturias the most prestigious, economically secure and beautiful wizarding country in Europe. Many had called them a match made in heaven and through every high and low point of Cleto’s reign, they had never once doubted each other. All of their children had turned out strong, proud and capable of bearing the weight of their birthright.

The Kingdom of Asturias had existed in its current form, for nearly two and a half thousand years and for two thousand of those years, a Torres had reigned. Their Family had been among the first to settle in Spain and throughout the years they had remained among the strongest Families in Europe. During times of war and times of peace their rule had remained unbroken, though not untried. There had been assassinations and attempts to usurp the throne, by outsiders and Family alike, but no machinations had ever completely upset the Succession.

While many saw being born into a Royal family as a great boon, few realized how difficult it truly was. Power such as theirs came with a heavy amount of responsibility. Every action and possible reaction had to be considered, every word had to be weighed carefully before being spoken and no matter what happened, one was not allowed to have any visible weakness. To be a Royal meant that one had to set an example for one’s countrymen and yet, still remain approachable. It was a difficult way to live, knowing that the eyes of thousands were always upon you.

Their prestigious bloodline did not make them immune to the darker aspects of the human condition. Power had proven to be their deadliest temptation; few could live without wielding it and some would never be satisfied with what power they held. It was as dangerous as learning to harness wild magic and as addictive as performing Dark Arts. For all their prestige, the Torres Family was not exempt from such temptation. Many times they had taken great risks to increase the power and influence they wielded and so far, they had never suffered for their daring. However, when Araceli had been informed about the circumstances behind her newest great-grandchild’s Adoption, she had to wonder if the Family had finally met their doom.

Anastas had his achievements and virtues sung regularly by the media and he was admired, envied and lusted over by ambitious wizarding Families worldwide. Estavan had accepted him with open arms and Apolinar would have made him his Heir if he didn’t have two sons of his own. It seemed that everyone who met him instantly liked him and Araceli could not help but wonder what exactly it was that Evaristo Saw in Anastas. Despite enjoying his charming and insightful company, there was something about him that made her uneasy.

Maybe it was the subtle way he avoided gazing at his reflection in any surface that might project his image. Or was it the way he moved silent and graceful, head held high and eyes always watchful? Possibly it was his knowledge which surpassed wizards and witches with a century more practical experience? Could it be the fact that he hid his every thought and motive behind a mask so effortless that few realized it even existed? Perhaps it was a combination of all these oddities but Araceli’s discomfort had increased dramatically, after she had rediscovered that letter and its tormenting quotation.

The initial unease and wariness that she had felt about her newest great-grandson had snowballed into a nightmarish world of what-if.

Evaristo knew Anastas like no one else in this world would. A Seer as powerful as he would not only be able to predict the future or reveal the secrets of the past, but his sight would have laid bare Anastas’ soul. Whatever Evaristo had seen of Anastas’s life had convinced him but how much of Anastas’ past had he left unspoken?

Araceli knew only that he had killed a Dark Lord of great power, one that had nearly destroyed the Wizarding World in his desire to cleanse and rebuild it. Yet how well did Anastas know the wizard he had defeated? How sure was he that this Dark Lord would rise again in this world? Could he be certain that this wizard’s goals were as deadly as the wizard of his past?

What if things were already different? What if this eventual Dark Lord had new goals? Who could say that he was not different from the Dark Lord Anastas had defeated in his old world? Better yet, who said that there was a Dark Lord on the rise in this world? These thoughts disturbed her almost as badly as the one question that she could not ignore.

What if Anastas is telling the truth…but is lying about who was the Prophesized hero and who was the Dark Lord?

It was a vicious circle of what-ifs and the only person who could say with certainty what was truth and what was farce was the one person she could not ask. Would never ask.

Whether he was the Hero or the Villain, Anastas was a murderer. He had killed in the world he left behind and had already bloodied his hands in this world. There was a ruthless savagery well hidden behind his innocent, youthful mask. Araceli had only caught a glimpse of it once but she would never forget the look in those stormy eyes or the way he acted.

Raw emotion, for once not the feigned emotions of a consummate liar, flickered in those molten eyes and his body bristled with tension, as though he wanted to act but was waiting for that one…perfect…moment!

It was a stance she was familiar with. Her husband had been an animal lover and had a particular fondness for predators of any species. That image of Anastas was forever imprinted in her mind. In that once moment he had been possessed by a savage joy, his eyes and body fiercely alive and invincible. He had the look of a predator about to pounce on his prey and gorge on a bountiful feast of rich blood and tender flesh. There was no doubt in her mind that the only joy he could feel would be when he watched the spark of life extinguish in his enemy’s eyes.

And in that one moment, she had realized the truth…

In committing murder he had saved the world…but had fully embraced the loss of his humanity.

Araceli had never been so horrified…or so afraid for her family.

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Tancred held a glass of champagne in one hand, twirling it idly as he considered his next course of action. Originally he had made many plans to ensnare the Lund-Torres heir’s attention and after meeting the boy, he had to dispose of most of them. Upon his arrival, he had been careful to keep his distance and observe the boy’s interaction with others. To the casual observer’s eye, the boy had acted like what one would expect of a scion of such a prestigious Family. He had been polite, charming and capable of holding a discussion with any of his guests, no matter where they were from.

He had been sorely tempted to try Legilimency but he had not dared in such a large crowd, plus it was likely the boy had been schooled in Occulmency. Tancred wanted to know what he was really thinking and feeling. That calm, charming façade was nothing more than a mask, the youngest Malfoy had said as much in his reports but it would take a keen observer to notice where the façade ended and the real personality began. Irked, he had sought out Apolinar and subtly arranged for an introduction. While they were old friends, they had not had much personal contact in recent years as he had been off conducting research and furthering his aims as Lord Voldemort. Tancred was proud of the number of contacts he had in the Wizarding World, though the majority had no idea of his alter ego or his goals.

His friendship with Apolinar had definitely come in handy this evening. Had he gone about it the traditional way, he might not have gotten more than a glimpse of the Lund-Torres heir as his attention had been much in demand. Surprisingly, Apolinar had bowed out of their conversation much earlier than might have been considered acceptable, had he been acting as a chaperone. Tancred suspected that his friend viewed his acquaintance with his nephew to be nothing more than innocent. After all, he had long ago cultivated a reputation as a bachelor, much like his Uncle Cuthbert.

The conversation had been interesting and he had been pleased to see that the younger wizard had not been quite so faithful to his façade. What he saw had pleased him; the boy was intelligent and keenly observant. He would make a very good spy, his presence demanded all the right sort of attention and he was subtle enough to gain information without being obvious. There had been a rare moment or two when he had clearly seen a glimpse of the aggressive Squall Harpy nature that he had toned down for the occasion. Tancred in truth had been impressed that the Lund-Torres heir had managed to keep such tight rein over his temper with such fawning attention being lavished on him. From what he had learned, Harpies did not much like crowds or closed spaces but the younger wizard had been managing well enough.

Meeting the Lund-Torres heir had convinced him of one thing though, if he wanted to be successful, he could not rush his plans. The boy clearly had his own goals that he was working towards and it would take careful maneuvering to make those goals match his own or make reaching them easier if his goals were fulfilled in the process. Altogether, it was going to be a complicated seduction but Tancred would not accept defeat. He would lure the younger wizard to his side and keep him there.

Smiling, he finished what remained of his champagne and after discarding his empty glass, went to join the flock of guests surrounding the Lund-Torres heir.

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Accompanied by several guards, Anastas strolled along the large windows that overlooked the lush palace gardens. This was the first time all evening that he had a moment to himself. Odysseus had suggested to his father and grandfather that he be allowed a few breaks away from company to keep his Harpy instincts from causing unseemly scenes. Both had been more than agreeable to the suggestion and all he had to do was signal his guards and he would be ushered away from the crowd of guests.

It had not been too terrible an evening, he supposed. Undoubtedly it could have been much, much worse. He had learned quite a bit this evening through conversations he had been engaged in and those overheard and repeated to him by his therapontes. This evening alone had allowed him to make many valuable contacts and that easily made up for all the annoyances he had experienced.

The garbled voices of his therapontes caused him to look up, catching his reflection in one of the windows. Hissing slightly in dismay, he narrowed his eyes at the shrouded form standing behind him.

- Someone looks less than thrilled to see me! Now, now…remember we’re not alone so don’t do anything incriminating. -

Anastas smoothed his expression immediately and shifted his eyes.

- You can’t ignore me forever despite what you think. Our fates are intertwined and nothing can change that now. Wouldn’t it be easier just to accept it and move forward? Or are you so deluded that you think ignoring or running from your problems will make them go away? -

Anastas said nothing but then, he didn’t have to say a thing.

- All the years of solitude were worth it, there is no one else better suited for me than you and I think you realize I suit you perfectly as well. It disturbs you, no? We’re two sides of the same coin…some might even call us soul mates! -

A crack formed in the window as Anastas suppressed his reaction to that comment. Around him the guards shifted nervously.

It laughed and the cracks in the window grew bigger. - How entertaining your thoughts are! It makes me jealous of you corporeal life forms, the only pleasure I experience now is through you and sadly you’re too young to keep me entertained properly.-

The window shattered spectacularly, glass shards spraying outward on to the bushes below the window. Chatter increased behind him as heads turned to see the odd spectacle and the guards, having been duly warned by Odysseus, began to back away slowly. Anastas stood unmoving as strong gusts of wind writhed around his body, tearing at his robes and throwing his hair in disarray.

A red haze of anger clouded his mind as the wind roared, deafening him to the sounds of his siphoning gems bursting. The maddening chorus of his therapontes ran rampant through his mind as they twisted and twined around his body. They feasted on his power with a single-mindedness that completely blinded them to the fact that they were also unintentionally cutting him with the fine shards of siphoning gems caught in their wake. Within seconds his clothes were shred to pieces, his wings had manifested, and the metallic odor of blood had only pushed him farther into the haze that had taken over his mind.

- Yield to me and I will give you the world and everything in it! Let us be one and you’ll never be alone again… - It coaxed, raspy voice filled with obvious hunger. The momentary weakness of its Host was the moment to force its own plans into motion; this was a singular opportunity it would not miss! - Embrace me again Diablo...no one else will understand you like I do; no one else can offer you what I can. Yield to me! -

“No,” Anastas growled, his voice trembling with rage. “I do not yield to anyone!”

Before the poisonous voice could retort Anastas’ attention was captured by the voices of his therapontes, all of whom were attempting to warn him of danger just as the wards surrounding the palace grounds flared to life in a wash of rainbow hues. Scrambling to regain a semblance of control Anastas was abruptly shoved by one of Odysseus’ therapontes, causing a magical net to miss him by inches.

Rolling to his feet Anastas let out a deafening shriek of rage. Fuck control! He was going to tear apart the cocky bastards who thought they could capture him. No one would use him again! No one!

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FLASHBACK
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Harry laughed as he was surrounded. “You’re so goddamned predictable, Scrimgeour! Even if no one else will tell you straight to your face, you’re a pathetic excuse for a human being! Bagnold was too impetuous, Fudge was a fraud and you-- you’re a poor Minister because you’ll tell the public exactly what they want to hear opposed to what’s actually going on! If my hands are bathed in the blood of innocents, your entire body is saturated in it!”

“Your opinion bears no meaning,” The Minister of Magic replied sharply. “You have served your purpose and now you are of no use. Worse than that, you’re a danger to the public and I am acting simply in the interest of the citizens I have sworn to protect. For the safety of the Wizarding World, you need to be contained. Azkaban’s Tartarus Pit is the only place that has any hope in keeping you secured.”

“If this War couldn’t destroy me, Azkaban sure as hell won’t. Your bones will be dust in a coffin before I breathe my last. I don’t care how long it takes but I’ll promise you this…I’ll pay you back for this treachery someday! You’ll rue the day you crossed me Rufus Scrimgeour!”

The Minister of Magic simply shook his head. “Idle threats mean nothing, Diablo. Take your one last glimpse of the sky, this is the last time you’ll see it in this life.”

“A month, a year, a century or a millennia…it doesn’t matter, I’ll pay you back for this!”

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END OF FLASHBACK
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Anastas willingly embraced the fierce rage that he had attempted to keep at bay. Power poured from his body unchecked as he threw himself at the nearest attacker, savagely tearing the other asunder with blades of wind. All rationality fled as sheer animal instinct took control. He would not be challenged by these weak creatures, especially on his territory! Shrieking his superiority he dove blindly into the crowd of guests, who swiftly scattered out of his way, eager to prove his dominance and strength against the intruders who had invaded his territory and attempted to capture him.

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Kisuke was entranced-- a reaction that definitely was not as popular as the rest of the guests who were shocked, horrified or panicked. Not that he honestly could not blame them as few wizards or witches had witnessed the true fury of a Harpy so personally. He hadn’t until today but it was certainly a sight that he would never ever forget.

Of all the invitations he had received that were scheduled for today this had been the most intriguing. It was not the first time he had set foot within the Asturian Royal Palace but it was the first time the rest of his family had deigned to join him.

Outside of business and the occasional grand fete, his parents and older brothers could not be convinced to travel outside of the country. Kisuke on the other hand, had always enjoyed traveling. He loved to immerse himself in other cultures, to meet new people and make new contacts. As he was a fourth son, his inheritance was little more than a nice bank account and a quaint summer house in Osaka. He was rarely called upon to run errands for the family and was not needed to oversee business like his brothers.

Though he had all the time and freedom to pursue pleasure and amusement, he found with each year that passed that he was becoming bored. Tatsuya, his oldest brother, had suggested that maybe he was beginning to feel the need to settle down. His father Katsumi had suggested that he was in need of a hobby or even a job to regain the focus that was very much absent in his life. His brothers Masao and Hideki on the other hand, believed that he had simply pursued pleasure too much and burned himself out.

Kisuke scowled mentally, his brothers made it seem as though all he did was seduce foreigners on his travels. Of course, his sisters were just as bad in that sense; they were always romanticizing his trips. They had long ago decided that he was looking for love. Why else would he travel constantly, seeking new people and new sights? To them, it was obvious he was looking for someone to love him and in turn, be loved. He wished that whatever it was he was looking for was as obvious and possibly as easy to attain, as his family made it seem.

As he had expected the gathering was crowded with the best Families from around the world, the food and drink was exquisite and the best marriage prospect in over a century had half the room captivated. Meeting him had been an interesting experience. The teenage wizard possessed an ethereal beauty and flawless manners it was little wonder so much attention was paid to him. Appearances were deceiving however, there was calculating intelligence in those gray eyes and the way he moved bespoke of power and confidence. The Lund-Torres heir had him captivated, which was not an easy feat.

Caught in the throw of a rage so potent that half the room had either fled or been rendered immobile, the Lund-Torres heir could not have looked more attractive in Kisuke’s opinion. Wind and power caressed his lithe form as he flit around the room, a shower of blood here and there the only signs of his passage as he neatly disposed of the intruders. Glancing around the room he could see that this wild display of violence and power, while horrifying and shocking many, would ultimately increase the furor that followed the Lund-Torres heir.

Whether they chased after his looks, bloodlines, fortune, or power, the hunt had only just begun and no one would back down without a fight. Kisuke included.

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The Balcony
Basurto Hall, Fortaleza, Brazil
Tuesday the 24th of December 1974
9:08 PM


“Luiz we have lost contact with the extraction squad.”

The man leaning against the balcony merely sighed, “I thought as much. Diego is far too hot-headed. Tell the rest of our operatives to retreat for the time being, I will not chance discovery at this time. The Torres Family will be out for blood once things have calmed down and with their connections, we cannot expect to remain hidden much longer.”

“I will pass on your orders.”

“Tell the runners to add Diego’s name to the black book. His punishment shall serve as an example for the rest of our brethren.”

The messenger did not speak, merely bowed and left.

Luiz turned and watched the sun set over the ocean. “I have great plans for the Wizarding World Squall, and you will help me achieve them. A sorte boa meus filhos pode a mais melhor vitória do homem!” (3)

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The Ballroom
Palacio d’Asturias, Oviedo, Spain
Wednesday the 25th of December 1974
12:10 AM


“This is the absolute worse thing that could have happened!” Tiziana despaired, gesturing weakly at the bloody scene taking place behind them.

Estavan patted his wife’s hand, “I admit, this is not a situation we could have predicted but, at the least, the guests are unharmed.”

Silvio scoffed, “Forget for a moment that we are hosting some of the finest Families in the Wizarding World and consider the fact that someone is either foolish enough, or audacious enough, to attempt a kidnapping here at the Palacio! This has been the stronghold of our Family for two thousand years! That someone would dare this and worse yet, breach our wards is troubling!”

“What do you propose we do, Odysseus? Is there any way to contain him now that he has utterly lost himself?” Evaristo asked, worriedly.

“At this time, I think it best we simply keep out of his way. He seemed unsettled even before the breaching of the wards. The fact that these attackers attempted to capture him has driven him into a territorial killing frenzy. At the moment, he will not rest until he has dealt with the intruders. After that we will see what state of mind he is in and then act.” Odysseus calmly stated.

Apolinar scowled. “Do we assume that the source of this attack is the same as the others?”

“For the sake of Asturias, I pray that is so.” Cyril said grimly. “There are many reasons why Anastas is such a tempting target and it will make identifying and dealing with his attackers even more difficult if there are more than mind behind these attempts. That our best spies have yet to discover so much as a rumor about these attacks is troubling but that another attack should come so soon, and one so bold is ominous.”

Estavan sighed, “What do you propose we do, brother?”

“New security measures must be put into place to secure the Torres properties, a thorough examination of the servants and guards will be conducted and it is clear that if Anastas is their goal, he must be assigned trustworthy and diligent guards.” Silvio listed firmly. “These are matters that I can see to; you on the other hand, have a far more difficult task. You must gain aid in our investigation through your political contacts and make it clear that the Torres Family is strong and not to be preyed upon. That someone would dare to attempt to abduct a Prince, not once but four times now, is an offense that cannot and should not, be tolerated! I will assign more men to the investigation, after this attempt, it is clear that whoever is behind the kidnapping attempts is deadly serious.”

Estavan nodded tensely. “I will handle the affairs of the state and begin initiating contact with my allies and reliable sources. Apolinar, I want you to personally oversee the investigation. Evaristo please meditate about the current…issues, any clues you might discover would be much appreciated. Odysseus if you have any information about any enemies to the Harpies or any organizations within that might view my grandson as a threat, I would ask you to share that information with us.”

“If there are any outside groups that are enemy to the Harpies, they have gone deeply to ground. Within the Harpies, there are certainly many that would find your grandson a target but it goes against our nature to plan something this…underhanded. We prefer direct confrontations. However, I will check with other Tempests and review the records of life before Archelaus.”

Estavan nodded, “That would be most helpful. Now, let us get this situation under control. I must leave immediately to evaluate the state of the wards as they are bound directly to me. Cyril if you would, organize the Royal Guardsmen and please begin evacuating the remaining guests from the ballroom while the women see to their nerves. Silvio, have your most trusted men secure the…remains for further inspection. Evaristo, Apolinar and Odysseus, I leave the matter of Anastas in your capable hands.”

Odysseus drew a deep breath, “Let us approach him calmly and slowly. You he will see as family but how he reacts to me will show us what his state of mind is like. Use extreme caution.”

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At the other end of the room, Araceli was frozen in horror. Like most of their guests, she had been captivated by the bloody display taking place in front of her.

This was what he truly was beneath that civilized, ever-so polite veneer. He was a demon in the flesh of a human. He did not walk. No, he glided on the very air itself at speeds that boggled the mind. It reminded her of a diving Peregrine Falcon, a blur in the air as it dropped down on its unsuspecting prey at speeds that were simply unfathomable for a living creature.

The truly horrifying thing was that he never once spoke words of magic, never once waved his wand. He was surrounded by shimmering, elfin-faced specters that flew through the air with obvious zeal. Araceli could see their mouths moving but she could not hear them, was happy that she couldn’t. By the cruel expressions that crossed their faces, they were enjoying ripping apart Anastas’ attackers.

What could Evaristo have possibly seen that could convince him that this demon would further the ambitions of the Torres Family?

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As quickly as he had lost his rationality, Anastas regained it as swiftly as flipping a switch. He blinked for a moment, not quite understanding what had happened. Oh he remembered what he had done, could almost taste the metallic tang of blood on his taste buds, but it was hard to piece together those fractured events into one seamless memory.

Glancing down at himself he noticed that what little clothing remaining on his body, shredded and gaping here and there in an unseemly manner, only just managed to preserve his dignity in public. Slivers of glass and shards from his siphoning gems were tangled in his now unevenly shorn hair and ruffled feathers. Nearly every inch of skin on his body was covered in minuscule cuts and abrasions, leaving his skin dyed as red as his wings.

His therapontes fluttered around the room in a motion sickness inducing display of aerial acrobatics. Their voices bombarded him with information, as was their nature. Why he had attracted such talkative, detail orientated therapontes he would never know but from what he remembered, they made amazing fighters.

:: Stop that, it’s annoying! :: Anastas told them, glancing around the room which was still filled with guests. :: You’ve eaten so much of my energy that you’re visible even to the normally blind humans. ::

:: So happy Master! ::

:: Delicious power! ::

:: Not hungry for a long time! ::

:: No one will hurt Master now… ::

Rolling his eyes, Anastas gave up on chastising them. Obviously they were so drunk on having eaten so well that they weren’t going to listen very well to his orders outside of another life-threatening situation anyway. Redirecting his attention, he decided to see how much damage he had caused while lost to his animal instinct. Somehow he had managed to break the remaining windows; the decorations had been either ripped clear off the walls or were hanging drunkenly and a rather interesting amount of blood was splattered or pooled at various points around the room.

Fortunately he hadn’t attacked any guests, which would have been a nightmarish situation to resolve if he had. Who knows what they might have demanded as restitution!

:: The Sword Bearer comes to your right, Master. ::

“Come back to yourself at last, I see.” Silvio commented wryly.

Anastas turned, sighing. “I didn’t mean to lose control.”

“It was not an unexpected scenario, though the addition of these would-be kidnappers likely provoked you further.” Silvio said dismissively.

“Something like that yes,” Anastas answered. “Where is everyone?”

“Estavan went to check the wards, Tiziana and your great-grandmother will attempt to lead the guests to the Dining Hall, assuming they’ll go when they can watch this spectacle instead. Apolinar and Evaristo took your mentor to the Infirmary. It seems he got a little too close when you were still berserk. Fortunately, it’s nothing too serious, just a few deep cuts.”

Anastas winced. “Ah,”

Silvio smiled slightly, “Don’t worry about him too much. He admitted that he should have been more cautious. You may be a young Squall Harpy but you view the Palacio as your territory and he is a Halcyon Harpy in his prime, visiting. As you were already on edge, it would have been better not to go near you. Now that we know you’re territorial, we’ll have to be more careful with our guests in the future as there are some with magical creature blood like yourself that might rouse your territorial instincts. In any event, unintended or not, you certainly know how to make a gathering memorable, Anastas! People will be talking about this for years.”

“Indeed,” Evaristo agreed as he joined them, looking mildly amused. “Let’s get you cleaned up. If you were hoping to escape the rest of the festivities you are sadly mistaken, my son.”

“Well I won’t complain about getting cleaned up, I’m a mess. Will I want to mingle after I’m dressed again is another thing,” Anastas commented, subtly glancing at the guests who were watching him even more intently, if such a thing was possible.

Evaristo chuckled and steered Anastas out of the room, several Royal Guardsmen clearing a path for them. Silvio just shook his head and began directing the remaining Guardsmen to herd the guests out of the room while his best secured the bodies for further examination. It was going to be a long holiday if this evening was anything to go by.

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Notes:

(1) Azorean Royalty- In real life, the Azores are made up of nine islands. In this story there’s ten and the tenth is purely populated by Wizards and Witches. It’s a Monarchy, as mentioned. I’m going with that because of the time of the settlement and all that. More about it later in the story very probably.

2) This is a quote by Fyodor Dostoevsky, the Russian novelist. (1821 - 1881)

3) Roughly I intended it to be: “Good luck my sons, may the best man win.” Thank you Schwarze Eule for correcting my initial translation! This is supposed to be Portuguese by the way.

Before anyone asks, if you missed it, Voldemort’s identity is Tancred Peverell. In this world he doesn’t go by his birth name of Tom Marvolo Riddle and instead was given a new name. He did not attend Hogwarts either for that matter. His aforementioned Uncle Cuthbert is Abraxas Malfoy’s Godfather (not Godfather to Cassius) which should, obviously, explain his connection to the Malfoys and why Cassius has a bit more breathing space around him.

In conclusion, there are a lot of different people plotting. I would have liked to write about the other gatherings that took place over the holiday but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. There will likely be flashbacks in the next chapter about the Focalor gathering and possibly Evaristo’s New Year’s Eve Gala.

I don’t want to give away too much information (lest I change it later) but now you’ve got a bit of a glimpse about who is behind the kidnapping attempts. Whether there’s more than one person/group behind it, I’ll let you come to your own conclusions.

-SheWolfe7
First Posted: (6-23-2007)
First Revision: (12-24-08)
Second Posted: (12-31-08)