"I still don't see why we should allow 'Muggles' to be down here as well." Magnus drawled as he and Harry watched a group of young boys, of various ages, train themselves in various skills.
They were currently deep underground under Muggle London, in the long forgotten ruins of an ancient empire that Harry learned were called the Romans. He, along with Magnus and several wizards that the Greengrass patriarch hired, had worked for weeks exploring the ruins, clearing out the rubble filling them, and used magic to expand and reinforce the entire place.
Now they had several underground chambers to act as headquarters of the Thieves Guild, complete with a living quarters, mess hall, training center, and even a communal bathing area. All of this surrounded the main guild hall, where all of the official guild business would be conducted, which also housed the Guild Leader's desk and vault built with enough materials, enchantments and puzzle locks to even give the Dwemer a wet dream.
"Liven up Magnus. Either way, there aren't enough wizards to properly fill up the guild." Harry told the seemingly older man as one of the boys fell from the obstacle course that had been erected.
They were all Muggle youth that had been living on the streets of Britain, stealing what little food they could when they weren't scouring trash cans. Now they were busy training with the items Harry gave them, daggers mostly along with accessories that were enchanted to boost their stealth and stealing capabilities. Though Harry also pressed upon them that it was strictly against guild policy to kill needlessly, and the daggers were only for self defence.
"Perhaps. But the smaller numbers would still be preferable to this filth." Magnus sneered with obvious disdain, before turning and exiting the training center.
Harry rolled his eyes at the older man, and continued watching the boys training for another moment before following him. After all, he needed to return home soon.
"I am surprised about this particular addition though." Magnus said as Harry rejoined him in the main guild hall, looking up at a statue that dominated one entire end of the hall. It was carved from pure ebony, with veins of gold inlayed to accent it, giving form to a beautiful woman garbed in sensual robes, with a pair of ravens perched upon her body.
"That is Nocturnal, mistress of Night and Darkness, and matron to thieves across Tamriel." Harry explained to him, making sure to say nothing else of the Daedric Princes. As much as he wanted to limit knowledge of them, he still felt it would be too much of a slap in the face to establish a Thieves Guild and not honor Nocturnal as matron of the guild. Even if he wasn't quite bound to her in the same way Karliah and Brynjolf were.
"Tamriel... The realm you called home before returning to Britain?" Magnus asked him.
"That's right. Even if she is an entire realm away, there's no harm treating her with respect." Harry told him as he made his way to the Guild Master's desk, where the most recent stack of reports waited for him to peruse.
Among the stack of parchment were reports of which jobs were currently being undertaken, expenses accrued, and any incidents that Harry needed to know about as Guild Master. As the guild was still so small, and Harry was doing nearly all of the actual jobs himself, there thankfully wasn't too much for him to go over.
When the Guild manages to get on it's feet though, then Harry would only have to take the most dangerous or lucrative jobs that they get, while the others would do most of the foot work. And as Guild Master, Harry would still receive a cut from every single job taken by them. Until then, the entirety of the Malfoy family fortune had been moved to the guild vaults to supply their funds in the meantime.
"Alright, let's get out of here." Harry said to Magnus after he finished with the reports, before the two of them exited the Guild Hall via a hidden door. It opened from a pretty obvious switch on their side, but on the other it appeared no different than a typical stretch of stone wall. The only way to open it was by giving the correct password, in Parseltongue.
Harry dared anyone to try and infiltrate the hall with a Parseltongue password protecting it.
After passing through the entrance, Harry and Magnus found themselves in a large circular cistern that had become the outer face of the Thieves Guild.
The Cistern was originally a part of the modern muggle sewer system that they chose due to it's close proximity to the ruins that now housed the guild itself. Only now it had been expanded and remodeled greatly with magic thanks to Magnus and the wizards he hired for Harry.
Now the Cistern was large enough to house hundreds of witches and wizards, with numerous alcoves carved out of the walls to make ways for vendors selling dark artifacts and ill-gotten goods. There was only one physical entrance through the sewers, which was layered with numerous muggle-repelling charms and illusions to keep anyone from wondering in. The main passages used to enter and exit the Cistern though were the large fireplaces that had been linked to the Floo network, thanks to a hundred or so Galleons finding their way into the pocket of a member of the Department of Magical Transportation.
Aside from the vendors and fireplaces, the middle of the Cistern was a large pit that was filled with water during the week, but was set to be drained during the weekends to host underground dueling competitions for anyone daring enough to compete. Managing the competitions, as well as the betting and the Cistern itself, was the largest business present, a tavern that Harry had created based off of the Ragged Flagon under Rifton.
One of the vendors, the official fence for the guild by the name of Mundungus Fletcher, waved Magnus over as soon as he saw him appear to show him his latest goods that were available. Harry meanwhile made a lap around the Cistern with no one present even noticing his presence, allowing him to peruse the people present and the goods they were trying to sell without issue.
Harry also debated setting up his own stall as well, but decided against it since, publicly, he was to have no relation to the Thieves Guild. It was also why he was walking around while employing his stealth at the moment, as THE Harry Potter would NEVER be caught dead in a place like this.
The only people who even knew of Harry's involvement were those who were directly a part of the Thieves Guild, while those around Harry now were just the underbelly of the wizarding world.
After making his loop around the Cistern, Harry approached the tavern proper where several customers were relaxing after a full day avoiding law enforcement and selling illegal goods. Also like the Ragged Flagon, the tavern was a collection of old tables and chairs set upon a platform of worn wooden planks, all surrounding the main counter in a crescent formation while a large fireplace burned behind it. And standing behind the counter was a single man who had been amongst the first to seek the guild out.
"Hob." Harry said as he took a seat at the counter, still unnoticed by everyone else around them as he did so.
"Boss..." Hob answered as he busied himself in cleaning a mug with a rag that looked as if it had been used to mop the floor as well.
Hob was basically the silent sentinel of the guild, the man of few words who manned the counter and managed the Cistern whenever Harry wasn't around. He stood at about six foot even, with a build that made him look more like a bodybuilder than a wizard. He had close-cut black hair that was peppered with grey, and numerous scars that covered his hands and arms, all the way up his neck to even his face.
"Any news?" Harry asked as Hob flicked his hand, making a fresh glass float in front of him before it was filled from a bottle of rich amber-brown liquid. As for a response, the man just slowly shook his head before waving his hand again to levitate a bowl of stew to one of the tables.
Harry smirked as he glanced at the ring Hob was wearing on his middle finger. It was one of the experimental magical foci that Harry created in place of wands, a small band of Dwarven Metal with a core of Dragon Heartscales. And like the typical wizard's wand, the ring had effectively 'chosen' Hob when Harry let him browse the different items.
It also helped make sure no one crossed Hob when they visited the Cistern, as it made it appear as if he were using magic without even a wand. A very rare skill that only the most powerful or skilled wizards were said to be able to perform.
For a time neither Harry nor Hob said a word, the former drinking his drink while the latter wiped mugs absentmindedly, until it appeared that Magnus finished his business.
"Keep your ears open." Harry said as he drained the last of his ale, before flicking a Galleon at Hob as he turned to leave. All he got in return was a silent nod of affirmation from Hob, but it was all that Harry needed as he rejoined Magnus.
"Satisfied with your tour?"
"Indeed. The Muggles aside, it appears as if the guild is progressing nicely. I am honored to be a part of it." Magnus answered, having been the largest pillar of support in helping Harry establish the guild.
"Glad to hear it. A few years from now, and I'm sure the guild will be the largest force in the underground on the entire continent. Further if we're lucky." Harry replied as they approached the fireplaces connected to the Floo network. One strictly for those arriving, while the other was for those departing.
"My contacts, both here in Britain and abroad, have all expressed interest in the Cistern as a gathering place to find both work and employees. Such a day may arrive sooner than you expect." Magnus stated with pride as he stepped up to the fireplace first. "I shall depart first. We will see you later then, Lord Potter. Greengrass Manor!"
Harry cocked a brow at Magnus as the older man vanished in a flash of emerald flames, wondering what he was talking about seeing each other later. He wasn't planning anything for the rest of the day aside from sleeping and checking up on some of his projects. At least, he had no plans until the next night.
Harry decided to worry about it later as he stepped up to the fireplace this time, and stepped out again in Potter Manor.
"Young master." Goggles immediately greeted Harry as soon as he arrived, Dobby at his side as both elves bowed deeply at him in reverence.
"Goggles. Did anything happen while I was away?" Harry asked the elf as he readily made his way to the master bedroom. It was already extremely late at night, and Harry still wanted to wash the smell of sewers from his skin before collapsing into bed.
"No, young master." Goggles replied as he followed Harry with Dobby walking behind them. "Master Sirius and the others already retired for the night earlier."
"Good." Harry said as he entered the baths and quickly undressed. The dirty clothes were collected by Dobby before the elves left him to his business.
As late as it was, Harry didn't take his time as he quickly scrubbed himself with the most fragrant soap they had before leaving the scalding water to dress for bed. And in his room, Harry found a small cup of steaming milk waiting for him on his nightstand.
A quick sip told Harry that there was honey in the milk, which made him smile wryly as he quickly drank it all before collapsing in his bed. And then the candlelight went out as he waved his hand.
***
"...rry..."
"...arry."
"Harry."
The Boy-Who-Lived opened his eyes as he became aware of someone calling his name, only to see the face of Susan Bones standing a slight ways away from his bed. A little far to wake someone up, but she had already learned that lesson the first time she tried to wake him up.
"Susan?" Harry asked as he glanced around, noticing as he did so that it was already quite late in the day. Then again, he HAD been working quite late recently trying to get the Theives Guild up to speed with Magnus. And no matter how mature Harry's mind was, his body was still that of pubescent child.
"You seemed REALLY tired, so we let you sleep in a bit." Susan explained as Harry sat up in his bed.
"Thank you for that. I've been working a bit late in my workshop for the last few days." Harry gave the usual excuse as he got up out of bed to start getting ready, while Susan hurriedly vacated the room to give him privacy.
Dressing in casual robes for the day, Harry made his way downstairs while wondering why the manor seemed so quiet this morning.
"""SURPRISE!"""
Harry blinked in shock as he suddenly buffeted by noise, streamers, and excitement as an entire crowd of people greeted him.
"What is this?" Harry asked warily as he ran his gaze over the crowd.
Sirius, Amelia, Susan, Remus, Narcissa and Draco were all to be expected, more or less since the young Malfoy was sulking in the corner away from everyone else. But also present was Hermione, her parents, the Tonks family, what looked like the entire Weasley clan, or at least the ones Harry had met along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Neville with his grandmother, Horace Slughorn, and even Albus.
"Its your birthday party!" Sirius declared while waving up to the banner that stretched across the dining hall, which said HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY in flashing bold letters while golden snitches flew around it erratically.
"Birthday...party?" Harry muttered in confusion while looking around at everyone.
"Yeah! Don't tell me you've never had a birthday party?!" Sirius exclaimed when he saw the look of confusion on Harry's face.
"The Durselys never quite cared about my birthday, and I more or less forgot about it after I ended up in Tamriel. So no, I haven't even acknowledged it, much less celebrated it for as long as I remember." Harry told Sirius bluntly.
"A-are you serious...?" Harry's godfather asked incredulously, seemingly forgetting his favorite joke as the sheer incredibility overtook him. The rest of their guests meanwhile glanced at one another awkwardly.
Seeing this, Harry just sighed as he stepped towards them and said with resignation, "I guess there's a first time for everything.
Harry almost immediately considered this to be one of the biggest mistakes he made in a while.
At first everything was fine as he greeted everyone who had come to celebrate his birthday, but then Harry experienced the most awkward moment of his life. Opening presents while everyone watched him expectantly.
Most of the gifts Harry got were more on the childish side, like the prank items he got from the twins, or the sweets he had gotten from Neville. But then there were the gifts that actually interested him, like the Sneakoscope that would light up and spin whenever around treachery. The gift Harry truly appreciated though was the box of honest to gods Sweetrolls that Mrs. Weasley gave him, which she undoubtedly heard about from Ron since Harry often made them for his dorm mates. She even somehow managed to make taste almost exactly like the ones Harry would enjoy with his children in Skyrim.
The last gift was only brought out once all of the other gifts were open and put away, the wrapping paper just being tossed onto the hearth for easy disposal.
"The best was obviously for last!" Sirius declared as he brought it out from the lounge, earning himself numerous eye-rolls from the others as he placed the box in front of Harry.
"A broomstick?" Harry asked as he eyed the package momentarily before moving to open it. Sirius said nothing, but his grin grew to Cheschire proportions as Harry started opening the box.
"Is it the new Nimbus 2001?" Ron asked excitedly.
"Better." Sirius replied cryptically.
Curious himself now, Harry hurriedly removed the rest of the packaging to reveal a broomstick unlike any he had ever seen before. A handle made of polished ebony wood, brush twigs made of hazel, and gold inlays that spoke of goblin craftmanship. And at the top of the handle was the word FIREBOLT with the number 0001 under it.
"Fiebolt?" Harry asked while glancing up at Sirius curiously, even as the broom slowly rose up out of the box so that it was at perfect mounting height.
"Yep!" Sirius said, grinning ear to ear from satisfaction. "I had to pull a few strings to get it, especially since they aren't supposed to be released until next year, but the Firebolt is the fastest broomstick in the world, far outstripping even the Nimbus series significantly."
""Wicked..."" The twins uttered while looking at the broomstick longingly, a look mirrored by Ron and even the youngest Weasley present, a girl named Ginny that couldn't even speak in Harry's presence or look in his general direction without going completely red in the face. Now however, her gaze was completely held by the broomstick in the air before him.
"This is amazing..." Harry said as he ran his hand over the broomstick in awe, the dragon inside him longing to take to the skies this very instant.
"Of course! But it comes with a condition." Sirius suddenly said, shattering the awe that settled over them.
"What kind of condition?"
"Nothing too major. You just need to play on your house team this year with it as a form of advertisement."
"Sirius..." Harry said with warning in his tone. "I may love flying, but I never even tried to play Quidditch before. I doubt they would want me to make a fool of myself in public with their broomstick."
"True." Sirius admitted. "But then again, you are THE Harry Potter. Your name alone is enough for people to pay attention regardless of your performance. And besides, your father was on the Quidditch team when we were in school. I have no doubt that you'd be a natural."
Harry just shook his head in exasperation, but didn't argue further. The broomstick was just that enticing to his draconic nature. Perhaps he could make some kind of arrangement with Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, when he returned to Hogwarts.
Hary wanted to take the broom out that minute to try it, but unfortunately he was unable to as Sweets apparently choose that moment to make her own appearance. Carrying a massive layered cake that stood nearly as tall as Harry himself, with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY iced onto it.
The cake then herald the most awkward moment yet, as every single one of their guests began singing to Harry as they all wished him a happy birthday, before he had to blow out the flickering candles that had been stuck into the cake. Overall, Harry hoped this wasn't going to become a yearly thing.
***
Off the coast of Britain stood a silent stone sentinal, surrounded by a perpetual storm while a haze of gloom and despair radiated from the entire island. Anyone unfortunate enough to come near the island would be afflicted with an unbearable chill, while those despicable enough to become residents were trapped in the ultimate hell within their own minds.
One such resident was a certain woman. Though gaunt with sickly pale skin, she still carried in her appearance a great beauty that her family was known for.
Even as she sat in her cell, the woman possessed an unnerving blend of maddness and clarity in her gaze as she stared at the stone wall across from her. Though she wasn't actually looking at it.
Things had gotten better for her in the last year, ever since several of the Dementors that manned the prison of Azkaban had been destroyed. Though the presence of the ones that remained still lingered over the entire facility, it was nowhere near as powerful as before. As such, she was able to regain brief moments of clarity as she thought of her beloved master.
The only sounds to be heard through her rumination were the cries of her fellow prisoners, the crash of the waves against the rocky shore, and the occasional rumble from the storm that persisted around them without end.
"My Lord...My Lord...My Lord..." The woman muttered over and over again like a mantra, a futile exercise in an attempt to keep her mind focused in the face of jailer's best efforts to send her spiraling into the depths of despair and madness.
She eventually closed her eyes as she felt the chill of the Dementors approaching her cell, gritting her teeth as it's mere presence forced an involuntary shudder from her. And even after it passed by she could feel the chill from it lingering for what felt like hours.
She didn't how long she was like that, in a state of waking rest while attempting to ignore the effects of the Dementor. But when she opened her eyes once again, the woman was surprised by the faint red light that filled her cell.
"What-?" She uttered while rising to her feet, only to see a small figure standing beyond the bars of her cell door.
The figure, while small, carried about them an imposing aura thanks to the black cloak draped about their shoulders, and the seemingly demonic armor they were wearing. Armor that emitted a soft red glow at the seams. And above all, the figure's face was obscured by some kind of mask, which also possessed it's own slightly green glow.
"And who is this that has come to see little. Old. Me?" She asked the figure tauntingly, her voice sickly sweet with a hint of insanity.
"Bellatrix Lestrange." The small figure said in a deep baritone voice that didn't match their stature. "You may know me only as Krosis. And I am here for information."
"Oh? And what if I don't WANT to give you any information?" Bellatrix asked with a sneer, to which the figure, Krosis, only answered by raising their hand towards her.
"!!!"
Though she didn't show it, Bellatrix grew alarmed as her body began to move without her permission. Joints cracking. Limbs twisting. The Death Eater quickly found herself being forced to her knees while her arms were held painfully behind her back.
"I don't recalling mentioning wether or not you had a choice in the matter." The figure said as they twitched a finger, and her cell door slowly, which was supposed to be locked, swung open slowly to allow them entry.
Belletrix grew furious at the treatment from this unknown figure. She was the daughter of the esteemed Black family! Married into the nearly as esteemed Lestrange family, and one of the few confidents of the Dark Lord himself!
Before she could scream at this filthy mudblood scum not to touch her, they grabbed her by the cheeks with their sharply pointed fingertips, and forced her mouth open as three drops of a tasteless, odorless liquid fell into her mouth. The effect was instantaneous as her entire body went limp, and her mind went blank.
"Now then, who are you?" The figure asked to test the result.
"Bellatrix Lestrange, formerly Belltraix Black. Wife of Rodolphus Lestrange, and devoted servant to the Dark Lord." She answered without pause. Without resistance.
"Excellent. Now then, did Voldemort give you something to hold on to? Something he placed great value in?"
"Yes. My Lord granted me the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, and stated that it was of the utmost importance that the cup was kept safe and secure." She answered mindlessly.
"Where is the cup?"
"In my family vault, Gringotts. Vault number-"
...
Bellatrix did not know how long she had been out when she finally came to, but the meal of stale bread and dried meat left in her cell suggested it had been a while. And when she did come to, the first thing she recalled the session of questioning by her mysterious visitor.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-!" She immediately wailed in despair at the memory. Regardless of if it were intentional or not, she had failed her lord by divulging such precious information to the mystery figure.
Instead of eating her food, she hurled it at the wall of her cell in her fury before her fists and feet also impacted the stone in her fit of rage. But even as she screamed, and raged, and bloodied herself, no one reacted. They all thought she had simply gone insane, like so many of the other prisoners within the stone walls.
(A.N. Sorry for the disappearance. I just took a sudden break because of things happening on my end, on top of wanting to get some other reading done from my personal library.)