Chapter Text
Nymphadora crept through the manor, noting that there was very little that was left undamaged. Aside from the two house elves running around, she and Amelia had prepared a few intentionally unstable runic schemes, filled with power. The instant anything foreign came into contact with the volatile magic, they exploded.
Quite a few of those explosions had erased the life signs she could sense through the wards. She estimated that at least twenty Death Eaters were dead or wished they were. She wasn't certain what Dobby did to some of them and wasn't sure if she wanted to ask.
Now, the wards only picked up on three intruders and one wayward guard. They were all hunkered down near the master bedroom, which did not surprise her in the slightest. She was sure they hoped to catch Amelia while she was sleeping. She'd left an intriguing surprise for anyone who ventured in that direction. It was specifically targeted towards parselmouths. Hopefully, it caught the Dark Wanker off guard.
She peeked around a corner, making sure to stay hidden. She took on Amelia's appearance, just in case. They were already expecting the Head of the DMLE, and it wouldn't do to out her identity to Voldemort for no reason. She thought of using a disillusionment charm, but Voldemort's magical senses were keen and she didn't dare to take the risk.
Boom! Crack! Nymphadora ducked down when a loud explosion nearly blew out her eardrums. One of the walls attached to the master bedroom was blown out into the hall, exploding into dust and rubble, obscuring all sight.
The hallway before her had been decimated by an extremely overpowered blasting curse. Tom must have run through the gamut of his usual dark curses if he was resorting to something as banal as a blasting curse.
Amidst the rubble, Nymphadora noticed her special surprises were still going strong with no sign of injury. Slithering along through the destruction were three large serpents, each around one third the size of the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.
"Hssss!" an angry hissing came from the direction of the destroyed wall. The snakes did not react. Voldemort did not seem to be too pleased.
Nymphadora cast a sonorous and a ventriloquism spell that projected her voice to another location. Her voice rang out, a fair impersonation of Amelia's, "I'm afraid if you're trying to control my pets it won't work, Tom." she goaded him.
Was antagonizing the most insane Dark Lord of recent history a good idea? Probably not, but Nymphadora just couldn't help herself. Tom took himself so seriously and someone needed to take him down a peg. Unfortunately, until she was much stronger, she wouldn't be able to smash his face in personally.
"Bones!?" Voldemort shouted, "Where are you hiding, whore!?" He couldn't locate her and, if she got her way, he wouldn't even see her shadow.
"Man, I'm a little disappointed," Nymphadora drawled, as if Tom hadn't spoken, "Even the Big Bad Evil Guy is just a stronger version of his third-rate minions."
She couldn't help but think that was closer to the truth than Tom would have liked to admit. There was nothing special about him, not really.
He was more powerful and ruthless than his contemporaries. He was undoubtedly more insane than any other dark wizard, but he was hardly unique. If someone else were willing to sink to the lows that Tom had, they could achieve the same feats of power.
"Did you pureblood idiots practice how to speak to women while you were blowing each other in the Slytherin dorms?" she continued with her taunting, "Seriously, I only like being called a whore by pretty girls. Preferably while they're moaning my name, not that you'd be familiar with anything like that. Is it true you sacrificed your pecker in a-?"
"Enough!" Voldemort interrupted. Nymphadora watched from behind the corner as Voldemort strode out into the corridor, seething with rage. "I will flay you alive and give you as a toy to my werewolves, blood-traitor!" he roared.
Nymphadora didn't need to say anything in response as the three big-ass snakes shot towards the Dark Lord they had designated as prey.
Voldemort blasted two of them away with one spell, sending them careening down the hallway. The last snake impacted the Dark Lord with its full weight, sending them both tumbling back into the room they'd come from.
In fact, these gorgeous, snaky murder machines were a failed experiment that had been locked away somewhere in Grimmauld Place. They were golems that had been designed to perfectly mimic a living snake. They were powered by an embedded focus crystal that shifted position throughout the body at all times, and were each outfitted with genuine snakeskin that had been enchanted to look and feel like a live snake.
They were created by one of her ancestors who had a grudge against a parselmouth, who was most likely one of Tom's ancestors. It was a little roundabout, but the little snakes were finally being used for their intended purpose. The annihilation of Slytherin's line.
While they were more than effective in combat, they proved to be completely uncontrollable. As soon as they locked on anything with a heartbeat they would relentlessly hunt until their prey was decomposing in their artificial stomachs. Not the best assassins, but they made for decent guards in a pinch.
The best part about them was that they were nearly indestructible when faced with normal magic. Nymphadora also loved the idea of Voldemort, heir of Slytherin, getting slapped around by some of his precious snakes.
Why did the Black family have so much crazy, murderous shit? Most of it wasn't even locked away safely. She was almost convinced that Kreacher left all that stuff lying around in the hopes of killing one of the Order members, or perhaps even Sirius himself.
While Voldemort was occupied with the one golem, the other two, completely undamaged, slithered through the hole in the wall to resume their hunt. They wouldn't stop unless Voldemort fled or they were distracted by other prey.
Nymphadora knew the golems were a one-off when she brought them. Once they were activated, it wasn't even possible to turn them off again. They would keep going around killing until they eventually spent all of their magic. Unfortunately, they lasted for days and she didn't have that kind of time to wait. They were perfect distractions while she prepared to cast a series of spells.
Nymphadora weaved her first complicated spell, an anti-apparition field that deployed around the one already deployed by the death eaters. Under the boost from the elder wand, the space within the mansion was now thoroughly locked down. No form of magical travel would afford even the slightest chance of escape, save for one.
Next, she angled her wand around the corner, away from her, and unleashed a torrent of black smoke from the tip of her wand. This was a spell that she found in an old book that mimicked Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, but could be directed by a wand-user. The smog quickly stripped all visibility from the surrounding area, spreading through the available space.
Voldemort was flinging spells from his wand like it was a machine gun, opting for a barrage of spells with various effects instead of large, highly damaging curses. One of the snakes was bisected by a rare severing curse that acted on the space its victim occupied.
Voldemort breathed out a small sigh. These snakes were annoying, but he had found a weakness that he could exploit. They weren't completely impervious to magic. As he prepared to destroy the other snakes, his vision was stolen by a deep, coiling darkness.
He made to blast the haze away, but was interrupted by a feminine roar that froze him in his tracks.
"FIENDFYRE!" Nymphadora screamed.
Before Voldemort could comprehend anything further, he was struck by one of the snakes and fell to the ground, winded.
Nymphadora was locked in battle with a spell that, admittedly, she had never used before. She thought that would have been fine as losing control of the spell was what she wanted, but she underestimated the chaotic piece of dark magic.
Initially, the cursed flames spewed from her wand like a tide, but she could still direct them with her will and the power of the elder wand. As the fire grew and fed on all of the surrounding matter it was almost as if it manifested its own will.
This brought with it a mental pressure that slammed into Nymphadora's occlumency like a runaway freight train. It took all of her willpower to merely cut the connection between her wand and the curse.
With nary a look at the shadowed, fiery hellscape that she'd created, Nymphadora took off running. She'd learned her lesson with the fiendfyre. Now, it was time to get the hell out of Dodge.
"Dobby!" she called, and, like the little miracle he was, Dobby elf-popped through all of the wards directly to her side. He looked at the chaos left behind in her wake, grabbed her hand, and popped them away without a word.
They appeared in a clearing just outside the boundaries of the Bones' estate. Amelia and Tipsy were already there waiting for them, safe and sound. Nymphadora abandoned her Amelia form and returned to her normal bubbly self.
"How'd it go?" Amelia asked.
Nymphadora shrugged, "Not sure. I left him behind covered in snakes, blind, unable to apparate, and surrounded by a sea of fiendfyre..." she trailed off. Nymphadora wasn't sure if she believed in the authenticity of the prophecy, but she didn't think Voldemort would be taken down that easily, regardless.
"He'll probably be fine. He'll be pissed beyond all measure, make no mistake, but I don't see him dying to our little trap." she finished.
She conjured up some chairs for them and dropped down, settling her nerves. It was one thing to plan to take on the Dark Lord, but to do it and succeed! Nymphadora was high from adrenaline and her thwarting of Amelia's assassination.
Nymphadora was sure that Amelia wouldn't be too pleased with the amount of death she'd dealt out tonight, but in her defense, she had said she was going to destroy everything. "If it's any consolation, the Fiendfyre should also destroy any evidence to our own wrongdoings. It's a win-win!" she assured.
Amelia sighed, "That we have any wrongdoings at all is what worries me."
Nymphadora placated her, "Don't fret, Amy. Or, well, maybe a little fretting might be a good idea. He does think his losses tonight were your doing, after all." she scratched her head, abashed.
"Sorry about that, by the way. He'll have quite the grudge." She leaned into her lover and wrapped her in her arms. "I'll be right by your side the entire time, Amy," she continued, "We'll have lots of allies soon enough. It's time to take back our country."
Amelia nestled into Nymphadora's embrace, content that no matter what happened, at least they wouldn't be alone.