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Emma leaned back in the backseat of one of her family's limos, and if she had been alone she might have allowed herself a small smile of triumph. She wasn't alone of course, her father was sitting in the chair across from her reading the Wall Street Journal. Yet his oppressive, controlling presence didn't impact the small bubble of good humor hidden inside her.
Adrienne knew something was up, and Emma could see it. Of all the family Adrienne was the easiest to read up to a point and Emma could see the frustration building in her dear sister. Emma was going along with being introduced (more like sacrificed really) to the Hellfire Club too easily. Adrienne had used her powers on everything the younger girl had touched (except her new jewelry, which Emma never took off) in an effort to find out where Emma's new attitude came from, but hadn't been able to find anything but the fact that Emma had made a friend named Jean who she had exchanged two emails with since coming home.
Jean sounded intelligent enough, and there was a subtle flirtatious overtone to the emails that Adrienne found interesting in relation to figuring out her sister's inclinations, but nothing that could explain her new-found confidence. Having evidence Emma was a lesbian might be useful down the line to embarrass her, it wasn't actionable enough to move against Emma now, which Adrienne really wanted to do. All of her instincts were telling Adrienne that if she didn't move against Emma now, she would be on the defensive from now on. But with Emma becoming the family face at the Hellfire Club, simply trying to have her assassinated (again) was no longer in the cards. If it happened now it would make the family look vulnerable in front of their allies, which her father would never stand for.
Indeed Winston was well pleased with the outcome of her little sojourn over the weekend. While Emma hadn't returned with Forge, the stocks were a good idea that he almost wished he had thought of. In fact he had thought of ordering her to transfer them to him to look after but he had decided against it.
Winston didn't want to deal with Stark the younger or even appear on the man's personal radar. Stark the elder had known some things about Winston, and Winston was… concerned about what he might have left his son. Tony the younger was much brasher, much more prone to acting out in the open than his father. Howard Stark was a businessman first and an inventor second, his son Tony was the reverse. The older Stark had agreed to not share certain information about Winston in return for the same consideration. Tony wasn't the sort to go along with that kind of thing. Indded, any neutral analysis of the eccentric inventor came back with really only one result: unpredictable. So using his daughter to control the stocks in his stead was a good buffer.
What Winston didn't know was that Emma had already subverted her investment manager and several others that handled the family's investments. They wouldn't act to aid her directly, but they would stall and even omit information to keep her father from controlling her further. This was only a single part of her long term plans for her so-called 'family' however. Most of those plans were aimed at Adrienne and Winston of course, as the most dangerous of her family, but she hadn't forgotten her mother or younger sister, and even had a plan to get her brother out and get him some help for his many addictions.
Emma had very good observation skills and had studied her sister's comings and goings carefully. She had begun by scanning the mind of one of the bodyguards assigned to her. Emma had never wanted any herself, preferring to use anonymity and her own abilities to protect herself. But in Adrienne's case the bodyguards were there not only protect her but to keep her from indulging in her normal cruelty towards others. Luckily the family's retainers had none of the family immunity to her powers. The man was surprisingly more observant and far more intelligent than his outward appearance or the information on him suggested, and Emma had already decided to keep him on her staff after… certain changes occurred.
She had seen enough to come up with a plan over the past few days as well as finding out how her sister had been behind the attempted kidnapping Emma and Harry had successfully thwarted. Twice in the month leading up to her trip to Europe Adrienne had met up with a man in her jaunts into New York. These meetings were small, but always seemed to happen in such a way that the two brushed against one another. The guard's observations skills came in handy here, as he had seen a glimpse of a piece of paper changing from Adrienne's hands to the man's pocket, and vice versa.
The image of the man's face was enough to let her figure out his identity from her knowledge of the family's business opponents. His name was Robert Hildebrandt, a name Emma knew from several intelligence updates on their corporate enemies. He was a native German who was part of the staff at Hammer Industries American branch, a very low down computer tech apparently, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact he was number two in Hammer's corporate espionage branch, and answered solely to Justin Hammer.
He was a spy of the first order, good with technology and spying as well as the more overt skills of that trade, and lead a cell of fifty other men in New York alone that were similarly trained, though he was also known for being as hands on as he could, and a bit of a womanizer. They were careful to never do anything that could be traced back to them, and indeed preferred to work through third parties as well as on foreign soil. This kept them safe from the American spy agencies, and let them have a degree of anonymity to their actions.
Robert would have easily been able to plan fund and launch the kidnapping attempt against her, and he might not have even needed to get any kind of okay from his superiors for it, though it was doubtful that the man she had seen meeting with the team of super-powered villains was supposed to have worn his Hammer logo. That was a mistake Robert had probably crucified him for. Well, not crucified really, that would be too messy. A knife in the back and evidence pointing to a violent robbery would be much better from Robert's point of view.
This allowed her to know that her sister had upped the ante and Emma was sadly not surprised to find that she was more than willing to match Adrienne. There was no love lost between Emma and anyone in her family other than her older brother. Adrienne and Emma had hated one another ever since Emma was six and found her older sister mutilating her stuffed animals. Cordelia, the youngest daughter, had thankfully been packed off to boarding school, which their father hoped would beat some of the rebelliousness out of her. Her mother was nearly as bad as Christian in her alcoholism, and had practiced the way of remote neglect so well she was practically a nonentity. Emma had learned early on that her mother would never do anything to gainsay her husband.
And as for the patriarch himself, Emma had been thinking of ways to remove him since she was thirteen, and had given such thoughts more and more serious consideration recently, when she found he intended to pimp her out to his business allies in the Hellfire club. The way he treated them all, his aloof cold manner and the beatings both verbal and physical (but never anything that could leave a mark, oh no, appearances must be maintained) had killed any kind of family love there. No, both Adrienne and Winston had to die and her mother and Cordelia marginalized, removed from any chance of taking control of the family.
Christian she hoped to help kick all his addictions. Except for sex of course, if he was gay and wanted to be a gay whore that was fine by her so long as he kept it out of the public eye. The American public was about as hateful toward gays as they were slowly becoming toward mutants.
She wasn't quite ready to move against her father, but she already had plans underway to take care of her sister, and with the information about her movements she had a perfect scapegoat too. All she was waiting for was the right moment to strike. Winston would take a bit longer, but her introduction to the Hellfire club, where she replaced him as their family's representative wasn't going to be another way for him to control her. Rather, it was going to be the second stage of her plans to build her own power base.
Now that she had protections against the worst that could happen, as well as at least one proven ally and even a friend that she felt she could count on, she could handle anything else the club could throw at her, and would do so with her head held high. As the limo slowed and her father put down his magazine, Emma idly wonder what her ability to think of murdering her father and sister in cold blood (how else for a Frost after all) said about her.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the limo driver walked around to open the door for them and her father looked at her in his normal cold fashion. "Remember how you are to comport yourself. Here, you represent our family, and anytime you perform poorly will reflect on our name. I expect you to perform well whatever is required of you."
The way he emphasized the word 'whatever' carried its own meaning and Emma scowled inside, though merely nodded her head in response to this as her father again showed no remorse in using her daughter as a trading chip, a whore for his own purposes.
I am what you made me father, she thought, her thoughts like ice, cold and purposeful, and soon enough you will learn how well you have done your job. The fact I feel remorse at all makes me better than you, and that is enough for now.
Emma stepped out of the limo, and even in this upscale area of the city her looks drew several glances, not all of them flattering. She wore a tight white bodice that only covered her chest and a bit of her stomach, letting her navel and stomach uncovered, a tight white skirt slit up one side, and a white cloak open at the front billowing around her. Her father had 'helped' her choose it. In his mind it was possibly seen as showing off the merchandise. To her it was something different, more akin to priming a trap than anything else.
They passed through the doors and past the guards there after a cursory inspection, her father being well known here, then passed into the hall beyond.
Emma looked around, keeping her disgust off her face with ease at what she saw all around. The room was set up like a high class gentleman's club expect for the raised dance floor in the center complete with a pole and a stripper. It was early yet, but she was not surprised to see several dozen men, many of whom she recognized from her briefings on their corporate opponents sitting or standing around with drinks in hand as they watched the show, murmuring to one another. There were little alcoves along one wall with curtains, and as she watched a young girl and a tallish man with a beard entered one, closing the curtain behind them firmly. Along another wall was a very well stocked bar, and under a winding staircase leading up to the second floor were several tables and other people there. At each table was a different kind of narcotic, and several of the patrons were already high judging from their glassy-eyed expressions.
Everywhere she looked were scantily clad women moving around, and guards stationed here and there. Unlike the three at the entrance none of them were visibly armed, but simply moved around, visible reminders that there were rules against rowdiness, of which there was strangely little. Christian would love this place, she thought whimsically as her father led her through the crowd, if you replaced the female stripper with a male one anyway. I find it amusing that these vices are much the same as the so-called plebs use. These people and father always seem to think their wealth makes them so much better than anyone else, and I know I do as well to a certain extent. Yet the only thing I can see is that this crowd is much quieter than it would be at a similar workman's class club, well that and the openness of the drug dealing. So much for being their betters.
Emma noted yet disdainfully ignored the leering and ogling glances sent her way. These people were the lower class club members, those who were rich enough to be in the club yet not the real movers and shakers. She noticed one blond young man looking at her appraisingly from the crowd by the bar and was amused when she realized he was Warren Worthington the third, heir to the Worthington Industries. Yet the oddest thing was that his thoughts weren't on her, not only on her anyway, but about some personal issue, and for some reason she got the impression of flying under his own power. She could have peered deeper if she wanted to, but decided against it for now, she had other things on her mind.
So far however the charms seemed to be working, although that might also be her father's presence. The real test of them would come in a few minutes, and she mentally squared her shoulders and readied herself when they reached the stairs to the second floor. The second floor was only used by the Inner Circle of the club, the three Kings and the ones designated as their courts. They walked up those stairs and through another, far more serious security station, then down a hallway and into a circular room lit by torches of all things. The room was made out of stone, and the circular table and the chairs around it oak, all of it made to hearken back to the early days of the club in the Middle Ages.
The places around the table were set so that even when someone entered the room there was no real head of the table, an interesting trick, but one Emma felt was deceiving in the extreme. In this case there should really have been two ends to the table, each one dominated by one of the Kings of the court. Normally there would be three King/Queen pairs as well as two Bishops of each color, to keep internal order in the circle, with all three at odds but equal. Now however there were no white pieces other than her father and subsequently her once she was allowed to take her place, and only two bishops, though that might change in the future according to her father, who said that there were a few names under consideration for elevation to the Inner Circle.
Yet right now it was obvious to her the group was badly out of balance, and that was a situation that she would try to take advantage of, She looked around at the people assembled here, going over the information she had on them.
Edward Buckman, one of the ten richest men in the world, who controlled dozens of companies behind the scenes devoted to technology and computer sciences. A well-known philanthropist, who gave money to colleges for science scholarships, then swooped up the people who used them for his companies. 'Call me Ed' was a soft sell on the surface, good with PR and he treated his people well, but was known to be utterly ruthless to his corporate opponents, and dealt harshly with any worker who tried to leave his company after a certain amount of time.
He was a thirty-something man with blond hair and bright intelligent eyes and quick, strong hands. The Red King, most senior member of this circle, having taken over for his father, his family had been in the Inner Circle since well before there was a New York branch of the club.
His lover, Paris Seville was a former model who had retained her looks after leaving the circuits and made her fortune in advertising and news media, rising to control several news outlets worldwide. That didn't make her as rich as the others, but in a way she was far more dangerous to cross, as her face was well known the world wide, and she was known even more then Buckman as a philanthropist.
Another blonde, she was known to let her hair flow loosely down to her rear, it was almost her trademark in fact. Now however it was up in a tight bun on her hair, and her light green dress was much more severe and old-fashioned than normal. The Red Queen, recently risen to that position due to her relationship and possible (if you believed public gossip) marriage to Edward, and it was obvious the two did have real feelings for one another, if their clasped hands were anything to go by. Emma hadn't honestly expected the other woman to be here at all for her debut knowing how such things went here, but was glad to see Paris even with the charms Harry had given her protecting her.
Sebastian Shaw, owner and founder of Shaw Industries, a major name in construction and small arms weapons both high tech and low worldwide, though nowhere near the level of Hammer or Stark Industries which he had created almost from scratch, as well as owner of several mining and metal-works companies. A somewhat recent inductee to the Hellfire Club, his power and wealth made his placement on this council automatic. Even if it wasn't quite up to Edward's level it was gaining quickly. He also had connections to arms dealers, providing them steel and other metals in return for backroom agreements and their latest toys for his own purposes. He added a lot of the physical muscle to the club.
He was a brooding sort of man with wide shoulders and short brown hair with matching eyes and certain dark twist to the mouth that told people he was a bad one to cross. Right now he leaned back, one glass of red wine in his hand as he watched her, first with a well concealed desire in his eyes, which faded into a more artistic appreciation. He was one of the two members that knew about her powers. The Black King, having earned that position in the past three months thanks to his business acumen and personal charisma.
Not much was known about his lover, a woman named Lourdes Chantel. She wasn't part of the club, and her own company, a transportation and train/boat/plane supplier based company, had its headquarters in France. It was unknown whether it was a personal choice on her part or the rules of the club (she didn't live in New York so probably would have to join the branch nearest her business which was in London, though that club had been losing influence for many years now) but her existence was a closely guarded secret. Emma only knew about her because her father had informed her that if Sebastian took her as his queen she would obviously have to either be discreet or take steps to put the Frenchwoman in her place. It was well known in the club that Sebastian availed himself of the girls downstairs regardless of his relationship with Lourdes.
The last two men at the table were Harry Leland and Donald Pierce. Minor in terms of money and influence in comparison to the others, they were both labeled Bishops of the court. Officially they were unaligned, but unofficially Peirce was Shaw's man, and Leland was Edward's according to her father. Leland was a corporate lawyer kept on retainer by the rest of the club and was very good at national and international laws, as well as being a financer that had previously owned a weapon's R&D team and was heavily into the production and distribution of foodstuffs. He was the other person who had 'purchased' her services from her father. Though his part of the deal was far smaller than Shaw's, his inclusion of his R&D team couldn't be overlooked.
The sight of the overweight man's bearded face leering at her nearly caused Emma to lose control of her power and lobotomize him on the spot, but then much like Shaw had the man ran into Potter's charms and his look faded to mere interest rather than desire. At the same time the thought that her Harry was much more handsome flitted across her mind, but she dismissed it easily. After all, he wasn't 'hers' in any way shape or form, and this was not the time to think such things, though her observation on who was more attractive was certainly correct.
Owner and president of Pierce Consolidated Mining Donald Pierce had worked on several joint operations with Shaw. He wasn't up to one of the kings in terms of influence or money, but Emma suspected that he might be a little richer than Paris. He was another blond, though his hair was darker than the other two and far darker than Emma's own. He should be one of Shaw's firmest allies, but for some reason Emma's instincts were telling her there was more to the man than what was on the surface.
He too leered at Emma at first, but again it faded swiftly to mere interest rather than lust, and Emma reminded herself to thank her Harry properly the next time she saw him. It was obvious that none of them had any immediate interest in approaching her.
There had been a Black Queen, but for some reason she had moved back to the London Branch of the Club, and Emma had been unable to find anything about her. Winston had not helped matters either, not able to tell her much other than the name 'Selene' and that she had been on the club well before him.
With her knowledge of them brought to the forefront of her mind Emma sent out little telepathic feelers, trying to get a feel for them before her father could throw her to the lions so to speak.
Shaw had strong mental defenses, not strong enough to keep her out if she really tried, but he would be able to feel her intrusion. Leland had a bit of the same, nowhere near enough to keep her out, but she ignored him for now. Seeing his loyalty to Shaw over Edward was a surprise but wasn't important by itself at the moment. As part of her ongoing plans for the club however, it might prove very important later on.
Paris had no mental defenses but a very organized mind and Emma tentatively labeled the woman as an ally in the future. She felt sorry about what Emma might face here, was almost fiercely independent herself, and honestly attached emotionally to Edward, who she had a dream to start a family with, and oddly enough the image of becoming a housewife (albeit a very rich upper-class housewife) with at least two children in her mind. It looked as if Emma could maneuver Paris into looking at her like a protégé or her successor as the token Queen of the club, which was good.
Peirce and Buckman surprised her however. The two had some kind of mental defense, not natural more like it came from some kind of device, very crude but they thankfully didn't seem connected to any kind of alarm. That had made her attempts to get into their heads more difficult but not impossible for someone as subtle as Emma. It would have kept out Jean for as long as its power lasted, but it had no chance against Emma, it wasn't nearly complete enough for that. In physical terms it was an artificial wall of energy blocking out the majority of their minds, but not all of it, and Emma was able to sneak in through a crack in their walls.
For just a moment the thought of her redheaded friend filled her insides with warmth, and more than a bit of courage, but she kept that off her face with ease.
She had only done a cursory examination of Pierce but that had been enough to tell her about the man. He was a rabid anti-mutant hater for some reason which had a personal taste to it and there was a strange sense of almost self-loathing there as well, but it was nowhere as overpowering as his hatred for all mutants. Indeed he already had a dedicated kill squad training to combat mutants, but it was something he had kept secret from everyone. Still that was enough to make her think of changing some of her plans for her sister, so long as she could think of a way to point the man toward Adrienne without having it come back to her.
Edward too hated mutants and feared mutants and also kept it hidden. It didn't seem personal like it was for Pierce, but his plans were not to take personal vengeance, but to wipe out mutantkind somehow. I might have to nip that in the bud, or perhaps point that goody-goody Xavier his way somehow, or maybe even Harry. His pride at the budding 'Sentinel' program, and how it would end the 'mutant threat' before it could really begin was at the very surface of his mind since he had just had a phone call with someone who was the leader of whatever it was.
Still I pulled enough of his memory of the voice to maybe find a match for it, despite their use of call-signs. The fact Edward even thought of the man in terms of his call-sign rather than name is irritating, but not an issue. Unfortunately Edward had deliberately kept his distance from it, so she couldn't quite get a read on what the program really was. She really didn't want to attempt to probe either any deeper at this point.
Still what she had got was enough for her to begin to put together a plan for her hear in the club, as well as incorporate some of it into her plans for her family.
As she stopped probing the others her father stepped forward, standing behind his former place at the table. It was only then that Emma really noticed that he was by far the oldest there, and she wondered if that was part of the reason he was willing to retreat from the club. Could her father have a secretly vain streak, or did it just never occur to him that she could build personal connections here that could override the ones he had already?
Whatever the case he looked around at his fellow members of the Inner Circle and waved one hand toward Emma, who moved forward, her head held eye, her face cold and poised but somehow regal. Her father didn't so much as glance at her however merely intoning, "Ladies and gentlemen of the Circle I present my daughter, unsullied by any, to take my place in this court should she prove worthy and thus further the interest of the Hellfire Club and the Frost family."
Whatever response any of those seated might have made was interrupted by the strident ringtone of her cell phone, the sound of one of Bach's concertos ringing out. Everyone's face darkened but Emma's whose control didn't falter for a second, her mind already racing and figuring out a way to turn this to her advantage just like all the information she had already gleaned from her opponent's minds. She simply reached into her purse, white of course like the rest of her outfit, and pulled out her phone before turning toward her father. "I did not bother to turn it off because you are the only one who is supposed to know the number, and I never gave it out to anyone."
That statement made many of those frowns turn more thoughtful and none of the Inner Circle spoke. Her father stared at her for a moment then down to the phone and nodded sharply. It was one of the emergency phones that all of the family members were supposed to have on them at all times. The number was not one that he or his daughter would ever hand out.
That nod seemed to dissipate some more of the sudden anger in the room and the two Kings shared a glance before Edward nodded. "Then I suppose you better answer it my dear. It should be most informative."
That is true on many levels of course, Emma thought, then lifted the still ringing phone to her head. "This is Emma, who are you and how did you get this number?"
"Emma Frost, this is Obadiah Stane of Stark Industries how're you doing?" The phrase and voice was friendly but forcefully so, almost painfully obvious as false to someone like Emma.
"Obadiah Stane, I recognize the name but not the voice, but you still haven't answered my second question." Emma stated, her voice smooth.
Eyebrows rose all around the table at the name and many of the people around that table leaned forward. Stark Industries was of interest to everyone there. It was one of the few companies in the world that was larger than any of their own, and Stark was richer than even Edward. Any information they got, particularly from someone so high up in the company, was important. Edward immediately tapped a hidden button on his chair arm, and small screens popped up at each place along the table. It showed the words being spoken as well as some information about the signal and where it was coming from though both Edward and Shaw frowned at seeing how little information their systems could glean from the signal. Emma noticed this and sat down at the White Queens place, not even looking up at the others as she looked at the information.
Edward and Peirce both frowned at her presumption but Paris nodded approval and Sebastian kept on looking while Leland didn't look up from the readouts, wondering what Stane was up to.
"Oh I have my ways my dear, I have my ways. Listen, I understand that you bought some of my company's stock recently." Stane's tone made it clear that he was fishing for information.
"If by some you mean eleven percent of the stock in Stark Industries then you are correct." Emma said, her voice crisp, but letting some humor into it. "And last I looked Tony Stark still owned his company, so it is technically not yours. Nor do I see what business it is of yours if I have bought that stock, unless you are calling me to tell me of some shareholders meeting?"
Paris actually chuckled at her tone, and some of the others nodded at one another in approval of her professional handling of the lout on the other end of the line.
"Ah, no nothing like that. I was just wondering if I could buy those shares off you, I'd be willing to pay you… say twice the amount you spent on them?" Stane's voice sounded like he was offering her some fantastic deal.
Emma's eyebrows both rose in surprise, though it was more for the people in the room watching and judging her than any real surprise to her. "Why in the world would I do that? I am not like those idiots who abandoned ship at the first sign of trouble Mr. Stane, I fully believe this is but a bump in the road. We both know that Stark is a genius after all, and I am confident that he will be able to turn it around. I am uncertain how, but the private sector has many needs at present that Stark and his genius could fill."
She and the others all watched in amusement as the computers picked up the sound of teeth grinding when she mentioned Stark's genius and the two kings looked at one another, eyebrows raised.
"Emma, this is a very dangerous time right now, and not just fiscally. I'm just worried that you having those stocks could make you a target. I really think you should sell. After all you can't make money if you're dead." His voice kept its polite tone but lost all sense of warmth or pleasantness.
Emma's voice became even colder, so cold it actually sent a shiver through the two unaffiliated bishops, though the others were made of sterner stuff. "That sounded very much like a threat Mr. Stane. Did you think my last name was a coincidence? I am a Frost, and we do not scare easily. I would think you would be more interested in protecting yourself from any allegations of insider trading, after all didn't you buy up quite a bit of stock after it hit the market?"
Leland looked up almost hungrily at that, and now everyone was looking at one another wondering where this was going.
"I don't react well to threats either Miss Frost, especially spurious ones like that." Stane's voice had lost even its polite tones now, and was deadly serious.
"Then we understand each other. I believe there is a gala of some sort hosted by Stark Industries in two weeks in Los Angeles? I have plans to be there. Perhaps our path's may cross and we can continue this discussion in person in such a manner as people of refinement should."
Sebastian's eyes narrowed and he raised his glass of wine in her direction slightly, while the others looked amused. Emma saw this and almost smirked despite her habitual self-control, taking it as confirmation that Shaw hadn't shared the knowledge of her powers with the others, much like her father had indicated.
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment then Stane's voice came through rigidly controlled "Very well Miss Frost, I will send you the standard invite. I hope to see you there, and that our discussion at that point is more fruitful than this one."
"Oh, one final thing Mr. Stane." Emma spoke quickly, able to tell that he was on the verge of hanging up. "Since this was an emergency line, it has automatically recorded this conversation, and as a matter of course I will make sure there are several copies. You know… in case of any pesky investigations or of anything… untoward happening."
There was silence for several long moments and then a click and the call ended.
Emma closed the phone and handed it over to her father. "Get rid of that and all the other emergency phones. If Stane can call us on them, he may be able to track us too. Whatever he's planning he wants controlling interest of Stark Enterprises. The question is what and how do we profit from it."
She was interrupted by a series of gentle clapping from the Inner Circle and she turned, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. Edward nodded in approval. "Very well done girl, you certainly put that upstart in his place. I assume you have proof that he might be insider trading?"
Emma nodded firmly, leaning back in the White Queen's chair as if she had been there for years, steepling her hands on her knee and looking around at them all, her face calm and analytical. "Indeed I do. Of course I won't be sharing how those stocks came into my possession, but there were indications at the time that Stane was buying out the other shareholders even before Stark's surprise announcement, something I'm sure you've all heard mentioned in the news a time or two." She said her voice droll.
"Insider trading like that would be hard on both the individual and the company," Leyland mused, looking nothing so much as a well fed shark contemplating his next meal. "You know it would be better if he was doing this with Stark's approval…"
"Unlikely." That statement came from three different three different throats. Edward, Paris and Emma all looked at one another and Emma nodded graciously at the other woman.
Edward did as well and Paris smiled. "I've actually met Tony Stark and he is a cross between a playboy, a mad scientist and a Boy Scout. He barely has any input in the day to day running of his corporation, and in terms of business he would never try to get away with something like that. In fact since his brush with death the Boy Scout aspect of his character has expanded as we've seen by his unilateral decision to halt all weapons sales, design and creation, not a chance." In point of fact Tony had made a play for Paris months into his time as president of the company, and she had firmly rebuffed him.
Edward went next. "I would also say that Stark is too smart to play with house money like that. He and I actually went to school you know, and he was always far too smart for his own good. Incredible people skills, but little to no interest in the actual nuts and bolts of running a company. Somewhat like Reed Richards but to a lesser degree."
He actually shuddered as did Winston and Leyland. Reed was the quintessential scientist, interested in business only so far as it gave him money to keep making his toys and fund the FF. The idea of him partnering with someone that actually had some business sense was terrifying. There was literally no field of scientific endeavor that that man could not come to dominate given time and inclination. Stark had been bad enough, limited as he was to weapons and energy, heaven forbid if he actually applied himself. If Reed or Doom, his only real equal in the brains department anywhere in the world, ever went into business in a big way it would be disastrous for everyone else.
They all turned to Emma, even her father, all of them wondering what she would add to the discussion. She simply smiled faintly, as if she didn't feel any anxiety under their stares replying simply, "Stark mentioned in that rant of his that his own weapons had been used to kill his escort. There were no sales of Stark weapons to anyone in that area of the world, but the damage found in the battle zone from which he was taken matched that done by his weapons. Who could authorize sales of weapons to a place like that? Either someone in the military procurement office, or from within his own company. Those are the only two places the weapons could come from. As they were the latest models the idea they came from his company makes more sense."
At their looks of surprise she shrugged. "Frost Enterprises has sources in the US government who were part of that investigation, which is 'ongoing.' She raised two fingers in both hands to make quotes in the air, and they all actually chuckled a little save her father. They all knew that meant the government was stumped but didn't want to let onto that fact.
Emma looked at her father and shrugged. "That report was compiled this morning, while you were having that meeting with our cosmetics scientists."
Winston nodded back his sudden spike of suspicion fading for now. That would be easy enough to check on after all, but he decided to keep a closer eye on his second daughter from now on.
Emma might not be able to read his mind but that didn't mean that she didn't what he was thinking, and had in fact hoped to place the seed of uncertainty in him, which was why she revealed so much. He would be assuaged slightly when he saw that report, but then would spend time trying to find out what she had been doing, rather than trying to control her actions from this point on. He would wish to remove her present support rather than block her from gaining more that was simply the way he thought when he was surprised.
That's right father, try to keep an eye on me, dog my steps however you wish. Spend so much time looking over my shoulder you won't see the pit in front of you, she thought coldly.
She went on. "I must confess that I also initially thought that Stane was too close to Stark to have anything to do with it, but after if found out about him buying up Stark Industries stock, I went back and looked at everything I could about Stane. At first he was a sort of mentor to the younger stark, but as Tony Stark took center stage Obadiah Stane was pushed aside, running more and more of the mundane day to day work while Stark partied and played with his toys. Yet it was still Stark getting the credit for not just the new weapons, but everything including the success of the company. You can see how something like that would infuriate him."
Her audience nodded thoughtfully. "In the last few years the two have very rarely been in the same place at the same time, and a distance seems to have sprung up between them. The conclusion is that the man behind the scenes wants to step back into the spotlight. Whether or not he can handle it as well as Stark is of course doubtful. When you buy Stark products, you're buying from the man, not just the company. But Stane seems to think he can do it."
When she finished, the members of the Inner Circle looked at one another and Sebastian smiled. "Well I think that worked rather well as a way to show what you can bring to the table. Much better than our normal series of tests and mental games at any rate. As Black King I approve Emma Frost's inclusion into the court of the Hellfire, to take up the mantle of White Queen." As the King who didn't have a queen, by the rules of the club he had to be the one to approve her placement. But as he had a long standing relationship with someone else who might take the now vacant mantle of Black Queen he could nominate her to take up the dormant crown of the White Queen.
By tradition this formal nomination would have been paid back with a physical relationship, but in this instance Shaw decided to forgo that for now. It somewhat surprised him, as he had been looking forward to bending Winston's strong-willed daughter to his will, maybe even supplanting his current lover with her, since Lourdes decision not to join the Hellfire Club rankled. But now that he saw her in person it didn't seem such a good idea for some reason. She was like an epic painting, something nice to look at, but he had no desire to touch. He almost thought it might be her power somehow getting through his mental shields, but he had met a telepath before this, and knew he would be able to tell if someone had gotten past his blocks. Besides she might be more useful as an ally than as a vassal, he thought, though I may need to choose which Frost to back at a later date. There is obviously no love lost in this family, even more so than I realized.
Edward nodded. "I agree to this nomination to the court, and accede that the lady in question be well worth the nomination and be of birth to merit it." Paris nodded agreement, quietly glad to have another woman around and also amused that Emma's cold as ice hauteur seemed to have put off Sebastian from his plans for the younger woman, for the moment at least. She had always thought that some aspects of the club's rules were vile and incredibly out of date, and had been extremely thankful that she had already been in a relationship with Edward before her own nomination.
Her fiancé stood up from the chair, putting a hand out in a courtly manner to help Paris to her feet. "Now, Harry will walk you through the legal minutiae of the club, some rules and regulations your father couldn't share with you before your induction into the club. Then I trust Sebastian will show you around. But I wished to have a moment of your time before you go Winston."
The older Frost frowned for a moment, as if almost disappointed Sebastian hadn't already started to break his daughter, but nodded all the same. The laws of the club were absolute, there could only be one representative from any family in the Inner Circle at a time. And with Emma in place to watch after the family's interests here, he could devote more time to his own secret affairs. Things were coming to a head there, and he needed to keep a handle on it now more than ever before. Despite this he decided that Emma was acting far too independent even now, and he decided to put a certain plan in motion to knock the starch out of her later.
The trio of blondes left followed by Pierce who muttered about seeing a girl downstairs he wanted to sample, leaving only Leland and Shaw. Emma looked at the Black King, one eyebrow raised in query. Sebastian shook his head for a second, then hit a button on his chair's arm. A faint hum began in the air and he nodded. "We can only keep this field up for ten minutes, but we are now cut off entirely from the rest of the world." Emma nodded and Sebastian's face hardened, now looking at her even more grimly. "Your father mentioned your powers to us."
Emma looked over at the fat Harry and he chortled. "Don't worry my dear, I too am a mutant. My power deals with making things heavier and it is much more useful than they sound I assure you."
Shaw nodded. "I'm a mutant as well, though I will keep my powers a secret." Emma nodded, she too would like to keep her skills a secret. After all, the moment someone knew you had a dagger it stopped being useful for knifing them in the back.
"In regards to your question I am a telepath, able to see into other people's minds so long as I can see them and they are within a few meters of me." That was a lie of course, but she had never told her father the true extent of her powers, and it matched up well with what she knew her father knew. Shaw might suspect that she was downplaying her power, but he would have no idea how much. Her ability to actually take control of another person for example or to blind/confuse a person's senses would be a powerful tool only so long as no one here knew she could do it.
"And what did you get from our fellow nobles?" Leland asked one eyebrow raised in inquiry, wondering how powerful her powers were.
Emma looked thoughtful, "The two of you have decent enough mental defenses, enough to know I'm trying to break in at any rate. Paris was an open book, but her mind had nothing if interest except for the fact she might be retiring after she and Edward marry both from the Club and her businesses to devote her time toward the family she wants to start up."
The two men looked at one another surprised by that and a little worried. While the Inner Circle was supposed to work together, there was a distinct amount of 'friendly' competition. But Edward having that much money and influence would tip the scales at the moment where Shaw had plans of his own to do the same thing his way.
Emma continued. "Edward and Pierce both have some kind of block that kept me out. It wasn't a mental defense or anything like that, it almost felt like some kind of field protecting them, something mechanical." She shook her head deliberately letting one mask fall to show them a flash of frustration and laying the foundations of the plan she had thought up earlier into motion. "I have no idea why, maybe they are that paranoid or have run into a telepath before, or possibly got wind of my powers somehow. All I could get was that they are both keeping secrets from the rest of the Club and something about the mutant issue. They aren't working together I don't think, but they might be. Their devices are similar enough for that to be the case."
Shaw's face blanked completely at her words, and Emma allowed herself a mental smile of victory. This was but the first step in breaking the club into two distinct factions. After all, a house divided would be much easier for her to take control. She had told them just enough to get them to be wary of their fellows, not enough to act on or truly worry them, just planting a seed right now, and had downplayed her own abilities in relation to the power struggle within the Inner Circle.
Sebastian frowned internally, wondering when and how Edward had come up with something like that, but realizing it was well within his companies capabilities. He resolved to watch his fellow King more closely from now on, but put it to the back of his mind for now. He stood up, motioning Emma to her feet and taking her arm in his, and even as he did so had no desire to subtly cop a feel or anything similar. "Enough of that for now, we of the Inner Circle don't need to trust one another to work together. I'll show you around my dear, then you can mingle with the other members, and you can start your two months working for the two of us."
Emma nodded, cautiously pleased with how well this had been going so far. Still this was the easy part especially with that bore Stane's interruption. From now on the real work begins.
OOOOOOO
As Harry led Ororo through the castle he called Hogwarts, the weather goddess took a moment to analyze her lover. While on the surface he seemed to be getting past his grief, the change was far too quick to actually be real. He was trying to put on a brave face, 'a stiff upper lip' as the British would say but it was obvious to her that he was wounded deep inside. That was understandable, but what wasn't so understandable was the stark, black rage that she could sense boiling underneath the surface of that sadness. She had a feeling of where that rage was coming from, but how to deal with it was the question.
The tour was slowed slightly by Harry stopping here and there, running his hands over a portion of the outer wall of the corridor. When he passed, those places he touched slowly changed into windows, created by the castle at the will of its master, opening it up further after being on a wartime footing for nearly its whole existence.
They just finished a tour of the sixth floor of the Castle when two of the house elves suddenly popped into existence in front of him, wringing their hands in distress. "Master, we's set the kiddies aside, and we's got the masters an mistresses remains gathered. We's know you said to, to tosses 'em into the lake, buts…"
Ororo could feel her eyebrows twitching at the elves mangled speech, but kept most of her attention on Harry. When the elves had begun to speak Harry had nearly broken down again with grief, but that grief was swiftly replaced by rage at the reminder of the adult wizards part in what happened here and he nearly snarled at them. "I told you to throw them into the lake!"
"That is about enough of that!" said Ororo almost glad for the opening. She swiftly grabbed his arm before looking down at the little creatures. "Set them aside for now and continue to work on cleaning up the castle please, if you see anything with writing or anything like that on it leave it where it is please."
The two relieved elves popped off to carry the news to their fellows. Once they were gone Ororo turned to her lover. "Why in the world would you make those little creatures throw out the mortal remains of their masters like that?! Not only is that disrespectful of the dead, it is disrespectful of their memories and doesn't take the emotions of the house elves into consideration."
"I doubt it," said Harry angrily breaking away from her. "You have no idea how elves were treated by their masters. I bet most of these were mistreated."
"Yet many of them might not have been," she responded calmly, knowing he wasn't angry at her just the situation and some old memories resurfacing that he had never really dealt with properly. "Yes they might have been badly treated where you came from Harry but surely even there it wasn't so unusual to find that they weren't."
"Well," Harry said slowly, a bit of his anger leaving him at her calm assurance, "no but..."
"But nothing," she said lifting one finger up to close his mouth, thinking of what to say for a moment before going on. "Harry you seem to have the idea that these wizards he chose to be stupid or something, you're looking at it as if they had a choice rather than a true sacrifice."
Harry blew up at that. "Of course they had a choice! They simply came up with something that would make them look noble and went with it! You don't understand! There's something about most magic users, it's as if when you add magic somehow it removes their common sense! 'Oh if you remove the leader that means the problem goes away', 'oh, you're marked as his equal and the chosen one even if you're decades younger and less experienced because a prophecy makes it so'! 'We figured out a way to catch the dementors, but it's too late for us, so let's go down in a blaze of glory rather than break our self-imposed exile to ask for help!'"
"It doesn't just look noble" said Ororo coolly. "It was noble, a true self-sacrifice. I have no idea what Mr. Strange or other sorcerers could've done against dementors, but I doubt anything myself or any other mutant I know has a power that could fight these dementors., and mutants haven't been around that long. Besides which, how many sorcerers were there back then, and how would normal people have tried to combat them? We don't know the answer, but I doubt it was a good one. There is no telling how many lives their sacrifice saved."
"What about the kids then?" Harry challenged angrily. "There had to be some other place to hide them!"
Ororo kept her cool however, responding "And if they had maybe the dementors would've somehow sensed them and gone after them?"
Harry faltered a moment then rallied. "They could have gotten the kids out at any point after the dementors had entered the castle then trapped them here! Even without the ability to have children of their own, hell even entirely alone they could have made a life for themselves!"
"Did they all enter at once, or was it over time? Is there any guarantee that even if they had been able to get the kids out that the dementors couldn't have figured out some way of following them? Could taking down the anti-teleportation ward that you say is around here have interfered with the trap for the dementors?"
"I, I don't know," he said slowly, a bit more of his anger leaving him. "I'd have to look up the ward scheme around here and see, but there had to have been!"
"How do you know that?" Ororo reached out taking his shoulders, and making him look at her squarely, her face compassionate but also stern. "Harry, I realize you had bad experiences with your fellow wizards back where you came from, especially with those in power. But you've also talked about all your friends who were also wizards do you think they would have gone to these lengths if there was any other choice?"
Harry blanched a little, looking away. He was angry, very angry. That face in the portrait, his resemblance to Dumbledore had brought all of his anger and rage at the old man back, and he was only now realizing that had probably made him lash out.
Ororo took his silence as a good thing, and went on. "You cannot project your own interaction with your wizard government and Dumbledore onto these people. You were not there Harry! If you were I have no doubt things would've been better for them, on many levels. But …you … weren't… there. Do not second guess the people on the spot like that, do not project your own anger against the people who drove you out, who derided and downplayed the sacrifice of you and your friends on the people here. Do not malign their sacrifice that way. Remember them for what they did, not for what you think they should've done or the mistakes they made before this. Let their final stand be what your remember them by, this last shining example of what they could have, should have been."
Harry was at war with himself. He wanted to believe Ororo, he wanted to think that at least in this dimension the wizards had done something to redeem themselves, to prove they all weren't just pathetic sheep. That was the crux of the matter. He had been angry with the Ministry for not really taking part in the war and trying to blame him for everything that happened, sticking its collective head in the sand and refusing to believe that Voldemort was back. Yet it was the people that had allowed them to get away with it that he had really been furious with. They didn't question anything they just simply went along with whatever let them keep their heads in the sand which pissed him off no end.
But Ororo was right he really was projecting what happened to him and his friends onto the wizards here. This wasn't the same as Dumbledore ordering some kind of final stand, then hampering his own defenders by saying they would have to use stunners another things like that. The wizards here had fought hard, the scars of their last stand were even now being cleaned away by the house-elves. They had fought the dementors every-time they showed up. Harry still had issues with their culture with the fact they had cut themselves off completely from non-magicals, and the way they had warred against one another and still thought they were somehow superior thanks to their magic. Yet none of that could take away from the fact that, at the very last, they decided to sacrifice themselves for others to contain the dementors.
"I'll, I'll try" he said, taking one of Ororo's hands in his and bring it up to kiss gently. "I can't promise that I won't blow up again love, but I'll try to keep an open mind. I'm sorry love," he said looking at her and shaking his head.
"That's all I ask Harry, I don't expect you to never make mistakes or never be wrong. You are human too you know, and it is human nature to project our personal experience onto others. And despite your power, despite everything that has happened to, you're still human."
Harry took another deep breath and brought himself under control, gathering himself visibly. "All right, I think I'm good to go now."
"Good," said Ororo pulling him into a kiss for a moment. "However I think I have seen plenty of schools before and two or three castles as well though admittedly seeing a castle that is designed as a school is original. Still, shall we take that as a given and move on to the oddities and strange differences you mentioned between this castle and the Hogwarts you once knew?"
Harry nodded, and led the way down to the fifth floor, where the entrance to the Ravenclaw dorm was. He told her about how a person had do answer a riddle to enter, and mentioned the fact that the riddle came from a knocker shaped like an eagle.
"That seems strange to me, why wouldn't it be a raven?" she asked, head cocked to one side. "That would make more sense given the house's name, would it not?"
"I thought so at the time," said Harry nodding. "Right now though there's something odd about this section bothering me. Something I can't quite put my finger on."
"There doesn't seem to be anything here to me. I assume you tried some spells to reveal hidden things and what-not. Is the tower still there on the outside?"
Harry paused looking over at her in shock. "Could you say that again?"
Ororo stared at him, one eyebrow raised in surprise. "I simply asked is the tower for Ravenclaw dormitories there on the outside? I haven't seen the exterior of this place yet after all."
"I'm an idiot!" Harry shouted suddenly, smacking himself and the forehead then leaning over and kissing her deeply. Ororo responded to the kiss quickly, though she was still at a loss as to what she had said that set him off. "Of course!" he exclaimed, as soon as he pulled away wrapping one arm around her and pointing the other at the empty space of wall where a door should have been. "If there's anything in there other than a solid tower frame rather an echolocation spell should do the trick."
Rather than a flat 'thunk' sound or anything that would indicate a heavy wall there, there was a 'bong' kind of sound, and he grinned, his ongoing grief leaving him for the moment. "Step back."
Harry pointed one hand firmly at the blank area of wall and sent out a weak Shatter-Shaker, which impacted the wall and rattled and broke it apart. It was slow going as he didn't want to risk damaging anything on the other side, but it was easily controllable. It took a few more spells but soon enough there was a hole there. Another spell shot out, and lifted the rubble into a wide archway, and a moment later the magic of the castle flooded over it, making it permanent.
They waited a few seconds, then Harry and Ororo entered the archway and looked around then up and up and up again. Harry stared, shaking his head. "So this is why I didn't see any kind of library anywhere else."
All around them in a circle of the tower were stacks of books reaching from here all the way to roof of the tower, seven stories of bookshelves. There weren't nearly as many books for that amount of space, nowhere near the amount of books that were in Hogwarts when he was a student. But that made sense in a way, after all the wizards here only started in the time of Camelot and didn't last for nearly as long as they had back there. Wizarding kind in his own world started well before the Punic Wars, how far was lost to history, but they had spread out almost everywhere. Here they had only begun as an offshoot of more traditional magics, and their self-imposed separation hadn't helped matters.
Ororo too was looking around. "I notice there aren't any stairs or anything to allow anyone to get to the second level or above."
"Of course there isn't," said Harry waving his hand and gesturing at one book which shot towards them almost like an eager puppy. "Why would they need such a thing when they had magic?" He shook his head. "Wizards, find a single solution to a problem which usually involves throwing magic at it and then ignore any other solution."
Ororo simply nodded, not wanting to bring Harry's attention back to the wizards in his memory any further. "And what do you think the giant book on the pedestal is for?"
"Only one way to find out," he replied, sending the book he grabbed back to its place. He first used some diagnostic spells on the book, making certain that it wasn't booby-trapped or anything like that, after all with magic you couldn't be too careful. It wasn't, and the two of them moved towards it. Harry lifted the cover, and saw what looked like a forward there. It was written in Latin and for some reason, and he shook his head amused. Even here, where Wizard kind had begun in Britain and never moved beyond its lands they still used Latin in their spells and for things like this. Odd for a group of arrogant, inbred and xenophobic arseholes he thought that was rather amusing.
After a moment he translated enough to begin and he spoke aloud as he went. "'To Whom It May Concern, this is The Big Book Of Students, not a momentous, magical or serious name we know, it's simply a name that states what it does. This book is tied to the ley lines below the castle, and then out into the lay lines of all of Britain. Through various portions of the ward scheme of the castle it is able to discern the location of any wizard child on any of the Isles. We of the Welsh enclave of Caer Duchairn , developed this for two reasons. One was to fulfill our obligation to produce something for the new wizarding center of learning, and the second was for our own reasons. We were one of the enclaves that felt we should reach out peacefully to the muggles to help solve the problem of our declining population. While they might not have had magic, there was research that showed any children of a muggle and wizard or witch would have magic, and we hoped that eventually this book could be used to find such students. Yet we could never convince anyone else of this, or at least the 'peaceful' part.'"
"'It took us years to create the spells for this book and figure out a way to connect them to the ley lines rather than the wars around our magical enclaves. And by the time we finished and finally got up the courage to go our own way it was too late. The dementors were already here. We have sent this with our children in the hopes that this castle may last longer than our enclave against the tide of dark, but hope these days is few and far between, and we leave this message for any who may find it. Use it well stranger, and remember us in your prayers.' Gavyn Crochenydd, last leader of Caer Duchairn."
Harry gently traced the words one more time as tears began to spring into his eyes again. Ororo hugged him from behind, nestling her head against his neck as he turned the pages. Each year the school had been there a page had been added by the wards to this book, and every page was empty. In this dimension there had never been anything like a muggle born, something Harry had several nasty thoughts about to explain the lack, most of which dealt with the big red arse that had created the dementors and sent them on these wizards, but that was for later. For now he simply turned page after page of blank parchment, each page with a single year date on top, and began to cry. He cried for the students who would never have a place to go and he cried for the people whose hope had barely lasted longer than they had.
After a moment he composed himself and the two solemnly left the library, leaving the book where it was. Harry already had ideas of how to use that book. After all, I'm already connected to the wards. It should only take me a few days work to create an inventory that could list all the people on the grounds, especially those designated students, modifying something like this is much easier than coming up with it in the first place after all. Though, it might take me longer to set up the wards to read their bio-signature rather than their magical cores. Then I could add charms and spells to that like that old Weasley clock that the twins had mentioned a few times, the one that pointed at different states of being rather than time, but changing it from pointing at something to color coordination somehow.
He smirked internally, thinking how the twins would have been appalled at the very idea. In the hands of their mother it had been a thing of dread to them which allowed her to know if they were out, in danger or, in later years, plotting pranks. But in this case he might be able to do something different with it. And maybe I could come up with some way of mixing it with the Marauders map. Of course for that to be necessary I'd actually need to have students here in the first place. Let's not get ahead of ourselves Potter.
From there the two made their way to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Ororo sighed sadly stopping and looking at where the house elves had gathered the remains of their former masters. Decomposition had caused most of them to turn to dust over time, but here and there a bone was still visible and their clothing was there as well. "How many do you think?"
Harry paused choking a little as he looked down the bodies, the tragedy once more threatening to overwhelm him. "Um, A-about 65 adult wizards I think, about 70 or so odd children. Thank you for doing this," he said looking over at the elves. I," he shook his head. "I'm sorry I had to ask you to do it I should have been more mindful of your feelings."
Dilly looked at him in shock. "We's be born to serve master, you asked and wes do!" He looked a little to the side as if thinking and then said hesitantly, almost as if he were afraid of what he was about to say. "Most weres not good Masters, but even they's not deserve the dark meanies."
Ororo's eyebrows twitched spasmodically again but Harry didn't notice. "No," Harry said leaning down and touching the one fully intact skull that the elves had found. "No, no one deserved the dementors."
He looked up at the elves. "I, I still haven't figured out what I want to do with these," he said waving his hand at the pile of debris that had once been dozens of bodies of adult wizards. "Were you able to all keep the remains of the children apart and stick them into graves?"
"Yes master," said a few of them sniffling audibly. Most house-elves, especially the females, had a soft spot for children, and loved to take care of them whatever their age. Seeing so many dead like this struck all of them deeply.
Harry nodded and wordlessly reached to ruffle their ears one after another. "I'm sorry, I know that would have been hard even for me. But you all could do it much faster than I could."
"Of course master," they all chorused smiling bravely.
One of them a female simply shook her head sadly looking down. "It's just bes… they was children master. Little kiddies. We's was so looking forward to taking care of them, and makings them food and cleaning up after them and…"
"I know," he said kneeling down and actually pulling her into a hug. She squeaked in surprise, but smiled tremulously. Their new master was a good master, despite his anger at their old masters. He was a little too soft on them according to some of the oldsters, but she and the other youngsters didn't think like that, and she liked the fact that their new master sort of wore his emotions on his sleeve.
"Is there anything you want to say over the bodies of the children?" said Ororo looking down at him.
He almost looked panicky for a moment. "Er, what do you say over graves like that? I mean, I never went to any funerals or anything in the wizarding world, and they didn't believe in God or anything."
Ororo shook her head reaching down and pulling him to his feet and then into a hug. "Harry, it doesn't matter what the words are or what the religion is, you're not talking to the bodies but their souls."
He opened his mouth and she produced her hand over it quickly. "I know you say that dementors ate their souls, and I even agree with you that it certainly sounds as if that's what happens, but there still might be something there that listens, and it is for you as well. It is a way of saying goodbye, a final farewell."
Harry shook his head. "Well, the time, I buried my friends, after Voldemort called up those demon, it wasn't a religious thing or anything like that, I just said farewells to them, and even that wasn't much." Harry wasn't certain if he agreed with Ororo that there was still something there that might be appeased or react to the words, but he wasn't about to say no to the idea either.
Ororo nodded. "What time is it here?"
"About four in the afternoon I think why?"
"Then let the remains reside in their graves uncovered for now, have elves standby to protect them from the elements as needed, funerals should be held as sunset.
Harry nodded, and the two of them made their way down to the living area that Harry had spotted, and Harry watched in amusement as Ororo's right eyebrow began to twitch in response to the furniture, which reminded her all too well of a brothel she had once stolen some food from when she was living on the street. "I guess this guy was a bachelor or something," he said rather lamely.
"I require a house-elf," said Ororo sharply.
In an instant one appeared in front of her looking a little startled. "Yes mistress?"
Ororo kept her tone level as she spoke "I would like all of this stuff removed please, leave anything that looks as if it might have writing on it but otherwise it's all kindling do you understand?"
"Yes mistress I's be doing that," the elves said and began to snap his fingers. With each snap a piece of furniture disappeared, and eventually all that remained was what looked like a journal, dropping to the floor from where it had been on one of the dressing tables.
Harry again used some diagnostic spells, and again there was nothing on it. There were some residue there, indicating there might have been some spell on it but as the spell hadn't been tied into the wards or the Ley lines underneath the castle it had long since faded. Indeed for there to even be a bit of residue left after so long whatever had been on it must have been incredibly powerful.
He opened it gingerly and looked at the words inside which were in old English this time. As he read them he began to laugh quietly. Before Ororo could ask what was so fun he said began to read aloud, translating into modern language as he did so. "'Welcome to Salazar's Superb Shack, I know silly name but with a first name like Salazar it was the best I could do. And it wasn't as if I actually had any chance to use this as a bachelor's dwelling. By the time construction of this castle was done there were very few eligible females that were still single after all, and the bachelor years that I had so looked forward to were never really realized.'"
Harry chuckled again shaking his head. "He really does sound like Sirius, it must been really frustrating for him."
"Indeed," said Ororo drolly shaking her head and waving one hand to indicate he should continue the worries of one bachelor unable to date bothering her not at all.
Harry chuckled again and turned back to his reading. "'Since you found this journal, that means you're either magical or something else very odd. If you're very odd I apologize simply because I have nothing to say to the simply odd, well done for finding this place etc. but otherwise go away. If you're still reading this that means you're a wizard congratulations. You may well be the last of us.'"
"'This is not to make you feel bad nor is it intended to put us in as good a light as possible. If there was ever a people that made their bed and were forced to sleep in it to a greater extent than we were, I have never heard of them. Yet in the last we wanted to do something for the mundane's, a people that we had derided for our entire history. We were raised to look down upon and despise them, not just because of the fact that they were so dirty, but because of their religion which saw us as fiends from hell and the simple fact they didn't have magic and we did."
"'If you've talked to that old codger in the painting, burn it. The Dumbledore's always had a way with words, and were able to get people to agree to anything so long as they kept talking, and it was his idea to make a final stand. It was his idea to keep to ourselves even at the last, not even trying to reach out to see if there were still sorcerers out there, the god bothering morons, who shot down even the idea of looking for a way to contact them. Yet it was my ward scheme that let us trapped in dementors in here, who gave us the ability to make our final gesture. It was I who figured out that the children could not be taken out because if we took down the anti-teleportation portion of the ward array, it would interfere with the anti-dementor ward enough for them to escape. Was there another way to get the children out? Possibly, a question that haunted me until now, my dying day, but at least it was one I thought of, that contemptible asshole Douglas didn't even ask, he simply decided the children should die with us! Yet I had a final laugh or two.'"
Harry's eyes narrowed as he went on. "'I designed the wards to protect our house-elves, because unlike we humans, when they had their souls sucked out, it was an extremely painful process. At least for humans it was quick. It never occurred to Douglas that I could do that, and it never occurred to him that myself and a few of the others could come up with another ward array for the children. We put them into a magical sleep, yes, but after that myself and ten of my fellow warders just spent the last two hours putting up a similar ward around them. Our children will not have to die, their souls sucked out to feed the dementors. But they never had as much magical power as we all adults did, every generation had less than the one previous in the main, and the wards would not have survived long before they were drained. At least in this way they would die cleanly.'"
"'The Dementors are here, even as I write they are climbing the stairs, shrugging off all the offensive spells that my fellows can hurl at them. I'm going to leave now and go die nobly fighting the dementors. I hope they choke on my soul, but evidence has shown so far that that is not likely… Remember us stranger, remember us for what we tried to do, for our last stand, for this single moment when we truly were as great and as mighty as we thought we were. Salazar Hufflepuff.'"
Harry had begun to cry softly, his tears falling down his face and on to the book as he read it aloud and Ororo simply hugged him again, not saying anything simply giving him wordless relief, and he turned as he finished reading burying his head into her neck and just letting the tears flow silently for a time.
OOOOOOO
Nick Fury glared through his communication screen, not quite believing what he was hearing. "So let me get this straight, you returned to a safe house, a house that only your team should've known about, and you find them dead and upwards of 12 terrorists there?"
"That's what I said boss, and half of them looked to have been physically modified somehow, like cyborgs or something. No way someone is that big and that fast and durable naturally." Clint shrugged.
Nick rubbed his face angrily. This is not what they needed right now, not with the way things were heating up elsewhere. For one thing, they now had a name for the new terrorist group in the Germany and other European Countries, Hydra. For some reason, the more he heard about it the more he had flashbacks to some of his missions with the Howling Commandoes during World War II, and he was beginning to be very worried about what the group's agenda was. To say their doctrine was like the Nazis was understating things in the extreme, it seemed to hate everything that was different than them, not just Jews and gays but anyone. He was tempted to take personal control of their assets in that area, but no. SHIELD's oh so secret backers were still bothering him about finding Magneto, as if that was the biggest issue he had to deal with, as well as some domestic issues.
They didn't know about Hydra, or that new other group whose uniform looks like a radioactive suit called AIM. They didn't know about the army clashing yet again with the Big Guy, despite the fact that he had been told that he would be handling it. No, all they cared about was the fact that he had missed his chance to take one terrorist whose powers utterly terrified them. To be honest Magneto's powers terrified Fury as well, mostly because the giant heli-carrier which was going to be SHIELD's headquarters was a flying carrier, and with Magneto around it would become pretty much a long spear that the mutant could hurl at a city whenever he wanted to. None of their scientists had figure out a way to block his control of metals, which was another reason why he had some against trying to open up talks with Tony Stark. He would have gone to the FF, but if his backers ever found out about it, they would have pitched nine kinds of hell about it.
He ignored all that for now and concentrated on what Hawkeye had told him. "Did they say anything that could give you a clue as to why they attacked you?"
"No boss, they didn't say anything. They didn't even shout most of the time when I shot them, hell I thought they were robots most of the time, still would if I hadn't seen them bleeding out after a shot a few of them."
"And you only got out of there because this Alvers kid helped you? And you compromised a second safe house by bringing him along." Nick shook his head.
"Yeah he's a good kid and pretty good in a fight. His powers are something else to see too, and he said he might want to sign up with us, I told him he'd have to graduate high school at least first."
Nick frowned thoughtfully tapping his fingers on his chairs armrest. He was tempted to sign the kid up now. It would give him a good in on the growing mutant community, and would give him a leg up on creating a super powered unit for SHIELD. The Avengers initiative had been shot down the moment he tried to raise the subject.
The reason was simple distrust. There were enough super-powered people appearing now that the idea of a group to police them was a good one, but to do that you has to trust the group doing the policing. The people who provided the cash for SHIELD were not trusting and it was as simple as that. They didn't want to trust superheroes at all, and if they were forced to work in a world where they existed they certainly didn't want to train them to be better than they already were. They still didn't trust the Fantastic Four even after they had been in operation for a year and a half, and faced dangers that could have destroyed the whole world, they weren't about to fund a similar group. No they wanted ways to control or simply eliminate the 'super' threat.
Fury however wasn't so narrow minded, and the idea of having an agent that could infiltrate the growing mutant community appealed to him. "All right Alvers can stay with you for a time, and tell him that we'll recruit him once he's out of high school. He'll have to go through boot camp and basic training of course, but that shouldn't be too tough with his Brotherhood training." Indeed Lance would later ace the training courses that would be thrown his way by SHIELD, though at this point in time it remained to be seen if he truly was willing to join up. "I might have another job for you in a few days though I think we might want to station you there permanently to watch him and the X-men."
Clint signed off after that and frowned thoughtfully. Nick was a fantastic leader, a great motivator and an even greater fighter, but often times Lance felt he somehow lost the thread of things, looking at the big picture rather than the people involved. Clint liked Lance, he could see a lot of himself in the kid and was more than willing to take him on as a sort of apprentice, but he was going to make damn certain that when the kid was able to join up that he did so with open eyes and mind. "Hey kid, is that pizza ready yet?"
"Hold your horses old man," Lance's voice came from the small kitchen. "The microwave is taking its sweet time. By the way, are there any rules about bringing girls over here?"
Lance paused at that, wondering when the last time he had brought a girl over to his place (wherever he was staying at the time really) for some fun had been, then began to laugh, and didn't stop until he sat down at the dinner table.