GoT: A New God's Conquest

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Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort, clenched his clawed hands into fists, one of his so-called loyal followers driveling on, every second occupied with the racking pain caused by that accursed Bellatrix.

He could see it in their eyes; the way they were beginning to get ideas, the only thing keeping them from acting was the thought that he'd return with vengeance like the last time he was assumed to have been vanquished.

Bellatrix: It was all that damnable woman's fault. He still didn't know what the wench had done to him, and that, more than anything, irked him to the bones.

Not even Dumbledore could match his understanding of the dark arts after his years traveling the world. Yet, one casually tossed spell had him in this state, nothing he tried ridding him of the curse coursing through his veins like molten iron.

"My Lord, from what we could gather, Lestrange and Potter spent years on the other side of the veil. It's still unknown how they've come into such power," Pettigrew simpered, nervously scratching at the limb he'd been benevolent enough to replace.

Luckily for the imbecile, he was in no condition to show his displeasure. Not that he had any hope that they'd bring him any useful information.

No, the magic he was experiencing was beyond that of the Wizarding World, and if not for knowing of the greater supernatural world and the horrors it contained, he'd have been similarly baffled.

But he knew what was out there, and with that, he could make more than a few assumptions on how his former servant might have become his match.

"Leave me," Tom commanded the greasy rat kneeling at his feet, watching in disdain as the man sighed in relief before shuffling away. He'd make sure to remind Pettigrew of his place as soon as he regained his strength.

And that task was something he could no longer delay. Not while the rabble he ruled over could set his plans back years at any moment.

Hobbling to the chamber's bookshelf in pain, Tom grit his teeth, imbuing what little mana he still controlled into the center tome, the shelf expanding to reveal a lockbox he'd never thought he'd be forced into relying on until now.

With a click, the mechanisms of the box opened, and Tom hefted out the ancient grimoire contained within, tracing a pale finger along the weathered title.

Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies

But it wasn't any of its written contents he had an interest in. Without hesitation, he turned to the final page, letting out a rare sigh at the intricate summoning circle.

It was pride that kept him from depending on such powers outside of his own control, but he had no other choice, and after activating the magic beyond his comprehension, Tom vowed that the ones responsible for making him fall this low would pay dearly.

But before he could further plot his revenge, a green light filled the room, and before he could regain his sight, a voice made it evident that the summoning had worked.

"It's been some time since being summoned by one of Mephisto's failed experiments… and quite the ugly one at that," the demon drawled, the insufferable tone reminding Tom of the now crippled Lucius.

Tom wearily eyed the surprisingly human-like demon, the tanned man still standing in the magical circle, seemingly lost in his own world as he hummed to himself.

"Hmm, I guess I could at least hear you out; some souls of your kind wouldn't be completely useless to my lord," the man broke the silence after coming to a decision, the words making Tom frown.

"Your Lord? Have I not summoned the one titled Lord Beelzebub?"

"Heh, do you really believe that a king of hell would take even a second away from his precious time just to honor you with his presence? No, my lord, Shalba Beelzebub, has more important matters at hand," he scoffed, and if not for the clear difference in power, Tom knew he'd be making this pompous fool grovel in pain at his feet.

"Ah, but where are my manners? You may call me Markos," the now-named Markos finally introduced himself. Not that Tom cared about anything other than ridding himself of this damned curse.

Nevertheless, Tom nodded at the peculiar devil, giving his own introduction.

"I am Lord Voldemort…" he began, grinding his teeth after the man interrupted, breaking out into laughter.

"Apologies, that's an… interesting name. But do carry on," Markos waved off, clearly trying his best to hold back any further chuckles.

"As I was saying," Tom ground out. "Whether it be magical or muggle souls, you'll have your payment for removing the curse I've been burdened with."

The well-dressed demon narrowed his piercing eyes at that, finally losing the nonchalant demeanor he'd been acting with all this time.

"Ah, yes, a nasty bit of spell work. Tell me, which God did you end up pissing off?" Markos asked, making him honestly confused.

"I've offended no gods; this was done by a former…"

But before he even finished the explanation, he was once again interrupted, the demon crossing the distance between them faster than he could register, a vice-like grip pinning his already weakened body against the wall.

"You dare lie before a retainer of Lord Beelzebub; I can sense the divinity on that curse. Explain yourself, now!" Markos growled, instantly dropping the somewhat amiable persona.

This damned demon, Tom thought; maybe if the fucker would simply allow him to finish a sentence, he'd get his answers.

"I've told no lies…" he began, groaning as he felt himself nearly giving out. Yet, once again, he was interrupted, the hand on his throat clamping his next words off.

"Never mind, I'll get the answers myself," the mongrel said, and any thoughts on the how of the matter vanished in a blur of pain like none other.

He'd believed that damn curse from Bellatrix to be the height of torture one could experience, but as his occlumency shields were shredded apart like frail parchment, his memories of recent days laid bare, he was deftly proven wrong.

"A gateway to another world? I must inform my master at once," he heard the demon mumble to himself, his back turned as Tom could only barely claw to his knees, forgotten about after being released to slump to the hard floor.

"Wait, my curse," he could only wheeze out, making the demon pause in his steps back to the still dimly glowing magic circle.

With all he'd been put through, if his whole purpose for calling the demon here were for nothing, he'd make sure there would be hell to pay, no matter the lengths he'd have to go to.

"Ah, yes, how crude of me," Markos smiled, apparently back to the persona he was fond of playing. But that was the last thing on his mind, relief washing over him after the demon sent a spell circle closely matching the one he'd been summoned with toward his still kneeling form. "Just be thankful that woman went easy on you; curse removal isn't my specialty."

Thankful? He'd be making sure that the bitch experiences what he'd gone through tenfold.

"Oh, and the information you've given is payment enough. We'll be in touch," the Hellspawn finished, disappearing in a flash.

'We'll be in touch,' he says.

How fantastic, Tom thought, already lamenting what he'd gotten himself into before passing out.

- A New God's Conquest –

With her man likely off spreading his seed far and wide, Rose decided to stop being so lazy and get started on her own tasks.

But first, she wanted to take a look at what Bella had been up to, the older witch's sneaky deeds not going unnoticed by her amazing senses.

Rose had the mansion to herself this day, so, without the need to skulk around, she found herself at the entrance to the dungeon—the place that the creepy psychopath seemed fond of the most.

Opening the first cell, the stench was the first thing to hit her, two disheveled men stewing in their own filth and trembling in the corner.

Nope, nothing out of the ordinary here, Rose decided, quickly closing the door to spare her nose.

After going through a few more prisoners, each in various states of insanity, Rose finally found what she was looking for, kind of at a loss for words as she stood in the entrance of the lavishly decorated cell.

Three beds, each occupied by naked and bound women. It honestly wouldn't have shocked her knowing what that lunatic was into, but it was the prisoner's identities that'd stunned her, quickly turning to amusement.

Heh, it seems like Narcissa is already getting what she deserves. The bitch.

But turning to the older brunette, she frowned; Tonk's mother probably didn't deserve the same treatment. Eh, who was she to get in between sisterly matters? Rose shrugged.

But the younger of the trio was a different story, and she felt her man would likely agree with her. And seeing as none were stained by his cum, it seemed that Bella had been keeping mum about her recent acquisitions.

Looking at her former classmate, the Slytherin's feet bound above her head, Rose smirked; the little bitch had nothing on her. She wasn't even a match before her lover's seed began molding her into something greater.

Even still, Rose figured the little cunt would end up in her man's bed, one way or another.

Not that she minded one bit; no other woman would have a place so close to his heart as herself.

Finished admiring the young body on display, Rose gave the pink slit in the perfect mating position a tight slap, giggling as the bitch spluttered awake.

"Potter, I should have known this had something to do with the likes of you," Dracina growled, and already, Rose was rethinking helping out the little bitch.

Seriously, was this girl retarded? You'd think her attitude would have changed just the slightest given the circumstances.

"Can it, Malfoy. Unless you'd prefer I leave you here?" She told the little snake, satisfied that her former nemesis went silent, blushing after realizing her undressed state.

Rose didn't bother explaining herself, laying a hand on the girl's soft tummy before apparating to one of the rooms on the upper floors.

Dracina plopped onto the soft carpet, still dazed and naked. Rose took some pity on the bitch, conjuring a simple set of robes around her nude form.

"W-Wait, my mother?" the bitch complained, making her roll her eyes.

"Your mother knew what she was getting into when she joined the Death Eaters," Rose shrugged. "Just be happy that I hadn't left you in the tender care of your auntie dearest."

"Be happy?! I was kidnapped!" Dracina shrieked, and Rose had to plug her ears at the sound.

Disregarding the bitch, Rose called for the ever-dutiful Leaf, the cute elf giving a bow in her French maid outfit.

"Leaf, be a dear and make sure our guest doesn't get herself into trouble."

"Of course, Mistress," Leaf nodded, Dracina close to throwing a fit after being ignored.

"I knew I could count on you. Just make sure that Bella doesn't try throwing her back into the dungeon," Rose smirked, patting the century-old cutie's head, happy that the Malfoy trollop was still incensed even after being so kindly rescued.

"Potter, answer me!" Dracina howled, but Rose was already mid-apparition after doing her good deed.

- A New God's Conquest -

"Fuck, I really shouldn't have watched Paranormal Activity before this," Rose grumbled, wearily eyeing the spooky shack as she walked the overgrown trail.

Lux had told her to go after a few trinkets that he'd said would interest her, and after putting it off for so long to binge-watch some movies, she was doing just that.

Better late than never, she figured, suspiciously glaring at the old Gaunt manor.

Yeah, she wouldn't be setting foot in there. Who knew how many ghosts might be haunting the place?

Willing her sacred gear into its gauntlet form, Rose didn't hesitate to send a wave of necrotic energy to demolish the haunted house. Surely whatever her man had sent her for wouldn't be destroyed so easily.

After wiping out any chance of a poltergeist following her back, Rose strolled into the clearing, sighing in relief as she spotted a black stone. She really hadn't wanted to explain failing such a simple task.

Pocketing the mysterious thing, she quickly left the crime scene, this time using a more advanced form of magical travel, easily bypassing the many wards surrounding her former school.

On her last visit, she hadn't found her trusty invisibility cloak where it should have been. Surely that old fucker was to blame, and now standing in the familiar headmaster's office, Rose didn't bother with discretion, tossing the place apart as she searched for her property.

"Girl, do you realize how many house points this will cost you?!" one of the paintings shouted at her.

"Old fart, do you realize what a little bit of fire will cost you?" She easily shot back, menacingly holding a ball of black fire in her hand.

Grinning as the former headmasters fled from their scenes, Rose got back to work, making an unnecessary amount of mess out of pure spite.

"Ah, there you are," Rose held the family artifact that'd allowed her to get out of so much trouble, the cloak having been sitting on a shelf in clear view all this time.

"Rose, what do you think you're doing?" an annoying old voice interrupted her fond reminiscing.

"Nothing much, just taking back what's mine," she waved off, turning to see old twinkle-eyes with his wand out and ready.

"My girl, we can still talk this over. Please, just come with me, and everything will be well," the coot begged, really playing up the kind grandfather act.

About to give a more than deserved scathing reply, Rose paused, her senses locking onto the wand that felt like no other, an evil smile nearly finding its way onto her face.

"You know, old man, it's you I have to blame for those terrible years raised by the Dursleys. I believe some reparations are in order," Rose greedily rubbed her hands together.

"That was for your safety," the old man defended himself. "But if there's anything I can do, I'm here for you, Rose."

"I don't need you, old man. But how about handing over that interesting wand?" She scoffed at the fucker.

"I'm not going to do that, Rose," Dumbles rejected her humble request.

"Fine, but don't complain that I'd never given you a chance," Rose said, her evil smile now on full display.

And before the old man even knew what hit him, her hand had already shot out, his gaudily robed body flying across the room to land in a heap.

Normally, Rose would have burst out into a fit of giggles at the sack of groaning bones, but the wand she'd summoned had her full attention.

Rose felt power coursing through her like never before, even greater than when she'd first awakened her sacred gear.

She smiled; her power didn't want to be contained, and forgetting that she was currently indoors, she raised her fancy new stick to the sky, a beam of pure energy tearing the ceiling apart.

"Shit," she cursed, dodging the falling debris, a few of the loose stones inexplicably finding themselves landing on the crumpled headmaster.

Patting the dust off her shoulders, Rose decided that her to-do list had been completed flawlessly, returning home without a care for the pricey repair costs she'd left behind.

She had the Transformers series waiting for her viewing pleasure.

Albus groaned as he pulled himself from the rubble.

Where had he gone wrong? This wasn't how the prophecy was meant to unfold.

Slumping into his cushioned seat, he sent a side eye at the office's newcomer, who only decided to show up after all that mess.

And at his look, his familiar only gave a disdainful caw before occupying himself with preening his feathers.

Putting the troublesome descendant of a legendary phoenix out of mind, Albus searched his scattered desk for a piece of parchment and quill.

There was only one person that he could turn to at this point.

"Fawkes, could you deliver this to Mephisto's secretary?" He asked his arrogant companion, the bird giving him a magnanimous nod after snatching the letter out of his hands.

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