The Dark Lord sat in his chair. A cold snake slowly slithered at his feet. Even the faint fire burning in the fireplace couldn't warm him — or anyone else, for that matter. Lord Voldemort loved darkness and chill; hot weather was one of the many things he despised.
Like any other wizard, the Dark Lord read newspapers. He believed they kept him informed about the world's events, though it was far from his favorite pastime. What truly brought him pleasure was playing with his snake — games so twisted that even the most debauched prostitutes would have shied away. His second pleasure was torturing and killing people, especially humiliating Mudbloods who refused to renounce their filthy, Muggle-born past.
But today, the situation was unusual — though others might not have noticed anything strange. Kneeling before him were three people. Any wizard would immediately recognize Lucius Malfoy among them; the others were his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, and their son, Draco Malfoy. Yet they weren't alone.
Behind the Dark Lord stood Bellatrix Lestrange, his most loyal follower — ready for anything. Also in the room was Fenrir Greyback, who, by some unknown means, had managed to survive until the Dark Lord's return.
"Lucius," the Dark Lord addressed him softly, "you've let me down very badly."
With that, he tossed a newspaper into Malfoy's face. The front-page headline read: New Emperor. New History? Below it was a moving photograph of a man Lucius recognized all too well — the man they had barely escaped from, thanks only to a house protected by a Fidelius Charm, with Lord Voldemort himself as the Secret Keeper.
Once again, Lucius regretted his mistake — helping the killer gain access to the Ministry Archives. He knew all too well what awaited him now: death. His only option was to run and hide.
"I can't help but admire his achievement," the Dark Lord said thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should send him my congratulations? Hmm? That would surely be a perfect way to forget past grievances — grievances that wouldn't exist if it weren't for you, Lucius... Crucio!"
"Kh-a-a-a!" Draco screamed in agony.
The Dark Lord knew perfectly well: if you wanted to inflict maximum pain on someone, you made them watch someone they loved suffer. Tears streamed from the boy's eyes; he had nowhere near the tolerance for pain that Potter did, for instance.
"My Lord," Lucius spoke up, "please, forgive us."
Narcissa, who had remained silent all this time, understood she had to get out — and quickly. Bellatrix, her sister, certainly wouldn't help her; Lucius would grovel at Voldemort's feet, but she knew that wouldn't save them either. In this situation, only power mattered — money meant nothing. Her grandfather had been right when he claimed that Galleons were useless to truly strong wizards. Now she could see it for herself: power had lifted a boy she once knew at school to heights she and her spineless husband could never dream of.
She was planning an escape — for herself and Draco. She definitely didn't want her son becoming a pawn in the war against Dumbledore. With every passing moment, it became clearer that's exactly what would happen.
Her plan was simple: run and seek protection under Timothy Jody's wing. As for payment... she wouldn't hesitate. After all, she was still a very attractive woman and had more than once caught Timothy's interested glances. Though now, with him having become Emperor... it might not work. But if you don't try, you'll never know.
"Kukuku, my friend," the Dark Lord chuckled. "What do I care for your apologies? What do I care for your desire to live? You belong to me. Your life belongs to me. Do you really think I won't find a use for you? Oh no, my friend."
"What must I do, my Lord?"
"Just... die! H-saaah!"
At that moment, the Dark Lord's snake lunged — at Draco. It bit his arm, then slithered away.
"Shha-sa-shha!" Voldemort hissed another command in Parseltongue.
Narcissa expected her husband to react — to spring up and do something, even if it was futile. But no… he remained on his knees, not even looking at their son, who writhed in pain.
"I think Timothy would be pleased to see the head of his enemy's son in a bag," Voldemort said, then stood up. "Enjoy."
The Dark Lord left, taking his closest followers with him, leaving Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco alone in the room.
The fire in the fireplace continued to burn but still gave off no warmth. Draco convulsed on the floor, his body seized by spasms. Foam, pale and thick, leaked from his mouth; his eyes rolled back. His hands clenched and unclenched uncontrollably. It was pure agony.
"Lucius, we have to do something," Narcissa whispered. She still clung to a sliver of hope that her husband's inaction was part of a plan.
"There's nothing we can do," he said.
Narcissa felt a sharp pain in her chest. She clenched her fists and finally made up her mind. Standing abruptly, she drew her wand. One move, and the Dark Lord would hunt her down, just as he hunted Potter.
"What are you doing?" Lucius asked, startled. He looked at her wand and began to rise as well. "Narcissa Malfoy!"
"Shut up," she hissed, sounding every bit as venomous as a snake. "You've disappointed me."
"You think you can run? That you can escape the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters?" Lucius said, getting to his feet. "You know how quickly they'll find you and drag you back. This way, at least we can preserve the family line."
"You bastard," she spat — and only now did it truly hit her: her husband was ready to let their son die just to save himself. His words struck her like a dagger, twisting straight into her heart. "I..."
"Calm down," Lucius said. "There's no need to get so worked up."
Meanwhile, Draco was dying.
"You..." Narcissa said again, barely able to find the words. Her hand trembled, but she kept her wand trained on Lucius. It was time to gamble everything, to trust that the fortune she had once divined for herself would hold true.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Lucius's eyes widened in shock, reflecting the flash of green light. The Killing Curse hit him square in the chest and hurled him violently against the wall, shattering several bones on impact.
Narcissa grabbed one of the ancient Black family artifacts, seized Draco, and cast one last glance at her husband's lifeless body — the man she herself had destroyed.
"Let's go," she said, activating the artifact.
It flared to life, and in an instant, she and Draco were sucked into a swirling vortex of teleportation. Bellatrix burst into the room, trying to stop Narcissa, but not knowing what the artifact was, she didn't have the right spell to counter it. She simply didn't know how.
In a fit of rage, she hurled a blasting curse at the wall, leaving a huge crater. Attempts to track Narcissa — had it been simple Apparition — failed.
"Nooooo!" Bellatrix screamed, her voice raw and filled with fury.
Narcissa reappeared inside a cave — her grandfather's sanctuary. This artifact had been one of her most closely guarded secrets, leading to this hidden refuge. It was her final escape route. Now she just had to leave the island altogether.
Draco collapsed onto the stone floor. His agony only worsened.
The woman quickly opened one of the cabinets and, with trembling hands, pulled out a vial of bezoar extract — specially prepared on commission by Slughorn. It was a potent antidote to poisons. Rushing over to Draco, she forced his mouth open and poured the antidote down his throat.
The potion began working almost immediately, clearing the black veins already visible under his skin and dispelling the darkness around his eyes. As the antidote took effect, Narcissa swiftly set about destroying her clothing, using spells to eliminate any possible tracking charms. She changed into a plain travel cloak and glanced back at Draco.
His skin remained deathly pale, showing no signs of improvement, and he still didn't regain consciousness. She tried a few more spells, but nothing worked. It seemed the poison had caused serious damage, and the bezoar couldn't reverse it completely.
She would have to travel with him like this. With a wave of her wand, she wrapped Draco's body in bandages. Once he was fully mummified, she transfigured a sarcophagus for him — it would be much easier to move him that way. A few distraction spells, a levitation charm, and an enchantment to ensure the sarcophagus would follow her without additional effort completed her preparations.
For a moment, she hesitated. Maybe she should just flee to America and leave it all behind. But then she recalled the fire burning inside her — the craving for revenge against the Dark Lord — and it reignited her resolve. She would get what she wanted.
***
The days went by. Every morning, I had to get up and attend the Assembly of Houses, listen to their proposals, and give my opinion on various matters or the nuances of certain questions. Sometimes there were completely idiotic proposals — like "A proposal to create livestock centers for breeding Muggles." I understand that there are all kinds of wizards, but that was an extreme case of local racism. I didn't even bother considering proposals like that.
The ministers' efforts to bring their people's fear under submission to me had mixed results. In some countries, the emergence of an Emperor was met with widespread approval among wizards. In others, no one paid much attention at all. And in still others, a frenzy broke out — wizards refusing to live "under the heel of a tyrant."
As is typical for anyone with great power, I suddenly had a mass of subordinates — most of whom I didn't even know. Some I was meeting for the first time even as they were already handling important tasks. Naturally, some of these new hires came from loyal houses. If they were from the House of Sharmaken, de Mendoza, or Delacour, I accepted them immediately on a permanent basis. Wizards from other houses were hired on a probationary period.
To calm the more unruly protesters, I sent emissaries to gather information — to find out who exactly was behind the protests and whether they were spontaneous or orchestrated. Some were tasked with figuring out what the protesters actually wanted. Once all the information was in my hands, then — and only then — would I act.
"My Emperor," said the master of ceremonies, whom I had decided to keep around, "you have visitors from the House of Shurshur."
"Where are they from?" I asked, growing a little tired of all the wizarding houses requesting an audience with me. I had decided that as long as I was staying in Berlin, I would grant these audiences gladly — it wasn't a big effort for me, and it made them happy. The head of House Shurshur had sworn loyalty to me, but I didn't recall exactly where they were from.
"Romania," the man answered. "More precisely, the region around Transylvania."
"I see," I nodded. "Let them in."
The wizard bowed and went to escort the visitors.
A man entered the guest chamber, accompanied by several young women who tried to look dignified, but their darting glances gave away how out of place they felt in such a setting.
"We greet you, Your Majesty," the man said. "Thank you for agreeing to receive me."
I simply nodded with a polite smile.
"Have a seat," I motioned to him and his companions.
They didn't need to be asked twice.
"So, what would you like to discuss?" I asked.
"My Emperor, I have a request," the man began.
"Go ahead."
"I would like to ask for your help in driving out the vampire community that has control over our ancestral land in Transylvania," he said.
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "Are the vampires giving you that much trouble?"
"Yes," he nodded. "They kidnap Muggles, Squibs, and sometimes even regular wizards. We have no way to deal with them."
"I see," I nodded again.
"My grandfather once appealed to the father of Otto VI for help in resolving this issue, but as you can see, my Emperor..."
"They did nothing."
The man simply nodded. I, however, paused to think. Technically, those vampires hadn't done anything to me personally, but a vassal of mine had come to me, asking for help with a real, serious problem. As a proper ruler, I needed to show him that the Emperor was ready to defend his subjects. My actions would become known to others as well, boosting my popularity and acceptance among the doubters. Ideally, I'd have troops ready to handle something like this on their own, but for now, it looked like I'd have to deal with it personally.
"My Emperor," said the head of House Shurshur, "I would like to offer you my daughters."
"Oh?" I said, slightly surprised. "Interesting."
"Yes," he nodded.
He then introduced his daughters, making it quite clear — though without stating it outright — that he was ready to offer all three of them to me in exchange for help. Honestly, it felt strange. I couldn't imagine selling my own daughters to solve my problems. It didn't seem very manly. Besides, I didn't really need any new legs for my bed — the ones I had were more than enough. Still, I didn't outright refuse. I just said that if I found myself in their region after resolving the vampire issue, I'd be glad to spend some time with them.
Yes, I decided to help him deal with the vampire problem in Transylvania.
Other petitioners were similar — offering their daughters, nieces, sisters, and sometimes even their mothers in exchange for certain favors. I began to wonder why they all approached me with offers like that.
"My Emperor," the master of ceremonies said with a touch of indifference, "you have quite the reputation among the aristocrats for your love of women."
"Heh," I chuckled. "Well, yes."
Of course, I gave vague refusals to such proposals. Some were simply absurd — as if the wizards offering them weren't even from this planet. In general, I hadn't expected there to be so many strange people among the aristocracy.
At the end of the Assembly of Houses, several resolutions were passed and sent to the ministries, which accepted my rule without much trouble. The resolutions were aimed at improving the education of young wizards — making it more comprehensive and of higher quality. Even the schools for weaker wizards would have curricula at least on par with elite institutions. Theory would be balanced with practice. This was meant to give a real boost to the development of the magical arts, because I was sure there were plenty of intelligent, capable people among non-aristocrats — even if they weren't particularly powerful, they had the brains to solve important problems.
After that, I was set for a long journey — visiting manor houses, private residences, palaces, and fortresses. They needed to be inspected, and the staff there needed to swear loyalty oaths. First, I headed to Neuschwanstein. As Emperor, I couldn't really travel without security, but honestly, I didn't need much. My guard detail was quite small.
The palace was closed not only to wizards but to Muggles as well, so I was able to fully inspect everything that now belonged to me and oversee the loyalty oaths. If any staff refused to swear, they were given a small sum of money and dismissed without fuss. Thankfully, there weren't too many of those.
The Palace of Versailles, by the way, now also belonged to me, as did many other masterpieces of European architecture. In total, the inspection tour took nearly a month.
Meanwhile, the emissaries I had sent to investigate the protests abroad started returning. The news varied: some upstarts were trying to seize power and declare themselves independent kings and lords, while others genuinely didn't want to live under my rule because they'd read too many Muggle books about bad rulers.
Dealing with the first group would be fairly straightforward — I already had all their names on the table. But the second group would require more effort: I would need to prove that life under my rule would be good for them. I wasn't going to disperse the second type of protest just yet — but the first type needed to be dealt with quickly.
I didn't postpone it for long. One night, slipping out of my quarters, I traveled through several countries, wiping out the would-be lords and kings completely. This had an immediate effect: protests in those countries quickly died down, and they joined the ranks of those who had already accepted my rule.
Once most of the matters requiring my attention as Emperor were settled, I finally returned to my girls. Maria, Hermione, Fleur, and Isolde were very happy to see me — especially Isolde.
"Isolde, do you have plans for tomorrow evening?" I asked her.
"I'm free," she replied.
"Then tomorrow at six," I said.
The girl blushed slightly, but Fleur and Hermione immediately went over to her, eager to discuss what and how everything would happen. Maria, meanwhile, approached me, waiting for further instructions.
"Anything new lately?" I asked her.
"Nothing much, to be honest, my lord," she answered. "I kept an eye on Apolline, as you instructed, and after that night, she's been very actively moving between various Veela enclaves, dropping hints to the witches there."
"What kind of hints?" I asked.
"The Veela noticed that her second nature has become stronger and have shown interest in the phenomenon," she said. "I also took the liberty of listening in on their conversations, and the Philosopher's Stone keeps coming up."
"Hmm," I frowned slightly. Honestly, suggesting to them — even indirectly — that they might gain access to the Philosopher's Stone through me probably wasn't the best idea. But oh well, what's done is done. "Got it. Anything else interesting about her?"
"She's stopped sharing a bed with Amel," she said.
"Why?"
"She claims it's due to some health issues. The mediwizards at Paris Central Hospital found nothing wrong and said it's probably psychological."
"I see."
It seemed the night of debauchery she spent with me had, after all, left some mark on Apolline's mind. I wondered how she'd react when I saw her this evening. But there was no point thinking too hard about it — I would find out soon enough since Amel and Apolline were coming for dinner tonight.
Until dinner, I mostly spent time with my girls, telling them about the most interesting and amusing incidents that had happened during my rise to Emperor and in the first month afterward.
"And she just came to you and offered herself in exchange for protection?" Hermione asked, clearly astonished. "That's kind of... I don't even know."
"Yes," I chuckled. "And it's not the first time."
"And what did you do?" she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice. "That Italian donna must've been quite attractive."
"I listened to her problem and, for a small percentage of the profits, allowed her to use my name in her business," I replied. "Besides that, I made it known — to newspapers, aristocrats, and ministries — that any business with a contract with me could use my name for protection."
"I thought you might actually accept her offer," Fleur said with a touch of irony.
"I could have," I said, running with the joke. "But should I really?"
"Go for it," Isolde chimed in, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "What if a woman really does come to him and offers herself... strange as it sounds... in exchange for protection and certain privileges? What then?"
"That definitely won't happen," Isolde waved it off. "Not after all the aristocrats found out he's not some sex maniac dragging everyone and anyone into his bed."
"But what if it does happen?" Hermione pressed, which was a bit unusual for her.
"If it happens, I wouldn't mind if he accepted her under those terms," Isolde said lightly.
"Something tells me it'll happen even sooner than you think," Hermione said with a strange smile.
"Tsk, oh please," Isolde waved her off. Fleur just rolled her eyes but stayed silent.
In the evening, Amel and Apolline arrived. The two Swiss mercenaries guarding the house quickly checked them and then let them in.
"Glad to see you, Your Imperial Majesty," Amel said cheerfully.
"You can just call me by my name, like before," I told him. "Apolline, good to see you too."
"I'm glad to see you as well," she smiled. But the moment our eyes met, there was something strange in her gaze — a raw, desperate kind of desire. She looked like someone who had finally found water after days of wandering in a desert.
I shook Amel's hand and gave him a light hug. Then I hugged Apolline, and while no one was paying attention, I let my hands wander a bit. The woman didn't mind at all. Since no one was watching and Amel had started talking with the girls, I let myself play with her backside a little more. Eventually, though, I had to let go.
"Come on in," Fleur said, inviting her parents to the table.
The food was all homemade, prepared by the girls. They enjoyed it as a way to relax from studying magic when they didn't feel like going outside or flying on broomsticks. And from the very first spoonfuls, I could tell — they were getting really good at it.
"It's delicious," I praised them. "Really, very good."
"I'm glad you liked it," Hermione answered, a little flustered. She spoke for all of them, and it was clear they each appreciated the compliment. "We all cooked together."
"You girls did wonderfully," said Apolline. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to join you next time. Just to chat, girl to girl."
"I'd love that," Fleur said, glancing at the others for their opinion.
"I'm not against it," Hermione nodded calmly, continuing to slice her piece of meat.
"I'm in," Isolde exhaled.
"Perfect," Apolline nodded and threw a quick glance at me. The hint was crystal clear.
The conversation drifted toward simpler matters. Amel, of course, asked quite a few questions on topics that piqued his curiosity, but whenever I didn't answer directly, he would immediately change the subject. It was nice to see he was an understanding man. After that, we talked about more casual things, nothing really touching on politics or imperial affairs.
The door opened, and one of the mercenaries stepped in. Stopping about thirty steps away, he gave a sharp, precise bow and spoke:
"Your Imperial Majesty, there is someone at the gates who wishes to meet with you. She says it's urgent and insists you will be pleased to see her."
"Who is it?" I asked.
"A woman who introduced herself as Narcissa Malfoy," he answered promptly.
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "Interesting, very interesting."
I paused for a few seconds. What were the odds that Narcissa Malfoy herself had come to me? Very slim — she should realize that I wouldn't simply let her go until I had thoroughly enjoyed my revenge. So if it really was her… well, let's see what kind of proposal she has for me. If it was someone using her name as a cover, they would regret it — playing these games with me is unwise.
"Alright, escort her to my office," I told him. "I want to speak with this Narcissa Malfoy. Maybe she has something interesting to say."
"As you command, Your Imperial Majesty," the Swiss man replied.
He turned sharply and strode out. Normally, I'm guarded by two wizards at a time. I don't really need the protection, but given the ceremonial aspect of it, why not? Since two people can't work around the clock, they rotate shifts — there are four pairs total. Besides that, they serve as a quick reaction force if the Emperor needs something handled immediately. All the Swiss guards are seasoned mercenaries. Their contracts are for life, signed directly with the Emperor, and they're paid from Imperial funds. The Emperor himself receives a modest tribute from the aristocracy and profits from personal imperial businesses. I had to familiarize myself with those as well — and I can confidently say the Emperor's business managers are very capable. Being a billionaire investor in the non-magical world is a very pleasant bonus. Though none of the past three generations had even touched the privileges that come with billionaire status among Muggles.
"Alright," I sighed, turning to my guests. "I'll meet with this woman, take care of whatever she wants, and then return."
Maria glanced at me quickly, asking a mental question, but I shook my head. No, she didn't need to accompany me for this. I could handle it alone — and if I needed help, she would know immediately.
"If you need help, just call," said Amel.
"Of course. Thank you."
My office was quite spacious. Although I hadn't actually worked there yet, it already felt comfortable. A large oak desk, a wide black sofa with a small coffee table, and a matching large black armchair. Behind me stood a bookshelf filled with light reading and general-interest books — no serious magical tomes here.
I felt the presence of someone walking down the corridor. One signature was the guard; the other was familiar. Could it really be Narcissa Malfoy in the flesh? I couldn't stop being surprised at the thought. What could she possibly want?
While they approached, I quickly layered a few additional protective wards — just in case she tried to pull a suicide attack. That could be an effective way to take me down. I really needed to think more about guarding against that kind of move outside a direct battle.
The guard and Narcissa stopped at my door. The man gave himself a moment before opening it, allowing the woman to step inside.
At the knock, I said:
"Enter."
The door opened, and the Swiss guard appeared first.
"My lord, I have brought your guest," he said.
"Let her in," I nodded. "You may return to your duties for now."
"Thank you, sir," he said, nodding again. As he turned to leave, he added, "You may enter. His Imperial Majesty is expecting you."
Narcissa stepped into the doorway. She looked just as beautiful as she had the last time I saw her — before we became enemies.
She stepped forward, and the door closed behind her. Privacy wards flared clearly, but she didn't react in the slightest. Not even a flicker of emotion crossed her face.
"Well, hello, Narcissa," I drawled. "Go ahead, speak."
"I greet my Emperor," she said, giving a deep, graceful bow. "I have come to ask for your forgiveness and to request two favors."
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "Now you've made me curious... go on."
"My Emperor," she continued, "I wish to ask your forgiveness for my husband's foolish actions. He was an idiot — and died an idiot. I killed him."
"You killed Lucius?" I interrupted, surprised.
Without much thought, I reached into her mind — finding it open and unguarded, inviting me in. I spent a few moments carefully checking for traps before slipping slowly into her memories. I quickly found the scene I needed: her green Avada spell striking down Malfoy.
So, she had finished him off. Well, fine. I had intended to do it myself, to devour his soul, but what's done is done. Leaving her mind, I nodded, signaling her to continue.
"Yes, my Emperor," she confirmed. "I killed him — for you."
I paused, diving back into her memories. Hard to say if her actions were truly for me, but with a generous interpretation, perhaps. Let's hear what else she has to say.
"And what are your requests?" I asked her.
"My son, Draco, is in a very difficult condition," she said. "Can you heal him?"
"Hard to say," I replied after another brief glance through the relevant memories. "Until I see him myself, I can't give you an answer. I can try, but I promise no results."
"I understand," she said, closing her eyes for a few seconds. She truly did understand, but it was clear she desperately wanted me to heal her son — here and now. "My second request is for you to destroy the Dark Lord."
The second request was far more substantial.
"Tell me, Narcissa," I said, nodding to her, "why should I agree?"
"My Emperor," she said, "I am ready to give myself to you completely. I am ready to surrender my loyalty and my soul, my body, my mind... to give you everything."
For some reason, she thought of Bellatrix Lestrange at that moment — how she had done something similar for Voldemort, and, as far as she believed, had never regretted it.
"I see," I said, looking at her. Honestly, having her in such a position had once been part of my plan for revenge — but now, here she was, offering it of her own will.
As for killing the Dark Lord — that wouldn't be difficult. That guy wouldn't be able to resist attacking me, and that would be a declaration of war. After that, I would simply erase and destroy him. Fulfilling this request would be easy. What worried me more was Draco — from what I'd seen in her memories, he was in a very bad state. I needed to take a look at him... which I could do right now.
Standing up, I headed for the door.
"Come on, let's take a look at Draco. I'll give you a preliminary verdict."
"Yes," she nodded and followed behind me.
The boy was in a kind of sarcophagus, currently guarded by mercenaries — they couldn't allow anyone to enter with such a large object unchecked. As soon as I entered their guardroom, the mercenaries straightened up sharply, awaiting my command. Waving a hand, I signaled them to relax, then approached the sarcophagus and unwrapped the bandages.
The initial examination didn't take long, thanks to the knowledge passed down from Nicholas Flamel and his wife, and the techniques I'd learned from the goblins. In short — the poison was quite something. It didn't just destroy the body; it also attacked the soul. I could immediately see the damage — scars on the soul that had already started to heal, but they had inflicted irreversible harm on his mind, essentially reducing it to nothingness. The body functioned on basic reflexes, but there was no consciousness left.
Could I help? Honestly, no. I couldn't retrieve a mind that had been reduced to nothing. However, creating a new one, or using the soul for something else — why not? This soul could serve very well in the creation of one or more artifacts, which wouldn't be a bad thing to have. That's where goblin knowledge really shined.
"Hmm," I muttered.
After that, I turned and headed back to the office, Narcissa silently following me. The silence didn't bother anyone. If the former Malfoy wanted to say something, she restrained herself — waiting until I spoke first or asked her a question.
Dropping into my chair, I nodded toward the sofa. The woman sat down slowly, waiting to hear what I would say.
"So, there are a few problems with Draco," I began. "First, his physical body is relatively healthy. Weakness and old injuries aside, there won't be much trouble treating that part. Second — and this is the real issue — his soul. The snake venom he was dosed with wasn't ordinary. It destroys the soul. You gave him the bezoar in time to prevent total annihilation, but the damage was already done. I can try to fix it, but I can't guarantee anything."
"Alright," she nodded, looking at me with a glimmer of hope. "But... you will try, won't you, my Emperor?"
"Yes," I nodded. "I'll try — but again, I can't promise any positive result."
"So be it," she said, a faint sense of gratitude in her thoughts.
"And as for Voldemort — he won't be a problem for me."
"Thank you," she nodded again. "Then I swear my loyalty to you until death."
"Not so fast," I said, rising to my feet. "If you belong to me now, I have to mark you with my seal."
"Of course, my Emperor," she replied.
"Where would you like me to place it?" I asked. "If you want, you'll be able to make it invisible to others."
"On the inside of my forearm," she said, visualizing a tattoo similar to the one Voldemort had placed on his servants. She accepted the association without much difficulty — she trusted me completely and without question.
"Very well."
Narcissa knelt and extended her forearm. I drew my wand, made a swift motion, and the seal — the same one Maria had received before — descended onto her skin. But since I now had a bit more power, I altered the seal's appearance, changing it to a daisy.
A moment later, I felt a new bond form — the same kind I shared with Maria. Now Narcissa truly belonged to me. She realized it as well and visibly relaxed.
Mentally, I summoned Maria, instructing her to take charge of Narcissa and bring her up to speed. She was also to arrange a room for her.
"Now, Narcissa," I addressed her. "I have some other matters to attend to, but soon, I'll deal with you personally."
"Yes, my lord," she answered. "What should I do in the meantime?"
"For now, tidy yourself up, look beautiful, and wait for me."
"I will do exactly that," she nodded, accepting my orders without hesitation.
"Good. Stay here. My subordinate will come for you. Listen to her and learn."
I returned to the dining room, where the others were finishing their meal. Fleur had now served dessert — and she had clearly put great effort into it.
"So, how did it go?" Amel asked.
"Nothing important," I waved it off. "Isolde, it turns out Hermione was right. If you two had a bet, you'd owe her one Galleon."
"What?" Isolde exclaimed.
"Hahaha," Hermione laughed. "I never would've guessed my prediction would come true so quickly."
"What's going on?" Apolline asked.
"Oh, just something small," Fleur sighed. "A little bet between Isolde and Hermione. And it turns out Hermione was right."
"Tomorrow, all will be revealed," I said.
The girls took it calmly. Amel clearly wanted to ask more, but everyone stayed silent, saying nothing without my permission. Even Apolline didn't try to pry — her thoughts were clearly drifting elsewhere at times.
Tomorrow was supposed to be my date with Isolde — and it was sure to turn into something far more interesting and pleasant. I could hardly wait. I was certain the girls would help her pick out an outfit. As for meeting Narcissa — that would come later, once she had fully composed herself.