He smirked at the idea of going into politics with hidden body armour and hidden pockets capable of carrying extra weapons. After all, wizard politics were often a bloody, backstabbing affair.
Betrayers were often disguised as friends and allies, that's what made them so effective. It was often said that "the bigger the smile, the sharper the knife." Many had met their end by disregarding that bit of wisdom.
...
Having the magically reinforced dragon hide woven into the robe, especially in so stealthy a fashion, had been an incredibly difficult and obviously custom project and thus extremely expensive, but what good was gold to him if he was dead? For mobility's sake and to keep others from realizing what he was wearing by having movements too stiff to be natural, the dragon hide didn't extend to his arms, but arms could always be re-grown with enough time and money, which he easily had, and assuming that no dark magic was involved in inflicting the original wounds.
Naturally, the acromantula silk had also been treated with several powerful magical potions, some even close to alchemical in nature, to strengthen the already magical fabric further to increase its durability, since it wouldn't do for the silk to fail under the stress of combat. Other potions were added to make it more resistant to fire based spells as well. Fire-proofing charms and runes had also been applied to the silk, enabling the robe to stand up to even dragon fire if need be, but only for a couple of seconds. This same magic would also protect him from most magical acids that dark wizards often enjoyed conjuring in battle.
Yes, it was a tad paranoid, but after recent events nothing but the best would do for his personal protection! Besides, being overly paranoid was only a bad thing when you didn't have people after you! 'It's a shame Caesar didn't wear body armour,' he noted, as he thought about the famous roman general, wondering what history would be like if the assassinated Roman statesmen and master general had taken greater steps to protect himself from harm.
Those thoughts inevitably led him to think more about how he could also protect himself better. 'To start with, I really need to get another wand... or two,' he noted. A wizard without his wand was close to a muggle in capabilities, probably even less due to an inability to think of solutions without resorting to magic.
A primary wand and a backup wand on his person at all times, in concealed holsters, with another wand in a safe location at home in case both primary and backup were taken or destroyed... 'Maybe a small portkey on my person at all times, for quick escapes when needed,' he mentally listed. 'Maybe some potions as well?' Healing potions would be a good idea, like the blood replenisher, essence of dittany for wound knitting, pepper up...and a bezoar in case I'm ever poisoned.
Now that was a good idea considering recent events. The cameraman took another poorly timed photo interrupting this incredibly productive train of thought, temporarily blinding him due to his now sensitive, magically enhanced eyes. He sent a quick glare at the photographer in response, his inner tiger getting rather irritated at the annoying man.
'I can't change and rip his head off. I can't change and rip of his head off.,' he mentally repeated to himself like a mantra, having to resort to occlumency based calming exercises to restrain his more feral side, his hands/claws unconsciously flexing.
He knew his quicker, almost explosive temper was a combination of his teenage hormones flooding his rapidly developing body and the feral instincts of a male Siberian tiger. The fact that he had been effectively imprisoned in Number 12 for almost a month for his own protection didn't help, the residence only possessing a few outlets for his restless energy.
So caught up in his own self analysis and indignation at being locked up, he didn't notice that Rita had detected the warning signs that he was silently emitting into the room. Whether her realization was due to the instincts of an experienced reporter, the magical bonds of a servant detecting her master's rising anger, or just her own animal instincts sensing the shift, he did not know.
"Take another. And this time, take a proper photo!" Rita stressed, with a scathing undertone, knowing his wishes without a word being spoken, and clearly getting concerned that she would be blamed later for the cameraman's annoying behaviour.
It had been over three weeks since he had faked his death in an elaborate plot to catch the man responsible for the attempts on his life. Two and half weeks since Lucius Malfoy, the man responsible for attempting to kill him, had been caught red handed by the investigating Aurors in a sting operation. In the end Lucius had been caught, but his parents' spineless betrayer had somehow managed to escape and still avoid capture by the Aurors, even after all this time.
Privately, he suspected that by now Pettigrew had somehow managed to escape overseas, either by his own skills or more likely, by another invisible party helping him. Regardless of the how, it placed the rat firmly beyond their reach and the Ministry's Aurors.
The matter wasn't helped any either by the fact that the Ministry was hesitant to ask for any other nation's help in the manhunt. However, that didn't matter much at the moment; Pettigrew had merely been the tool. The true mastermind that had been behind the nearly successful attempts on his life had been caught, removing the threat for the time being.
He smiled for his picture once again. It was a genuine smile, one of joy and anticipation as he thought about the mindless Lord Malfoy, drooling away in the hospital, and the thought of the swiftly approaching dismantlement of the Malfoy family name and assets. Revenge would be sweet; it would be even sweeter if there was gold involved.
The attempts on his life this last half year, while of course being frightening, had also been an eye opening experience, a transformative experience. He had hated the uncertainty, the thought of being powerless, lacking control.
The fact that at any moment his life could be stolen from him had hardened him. But the unfortunate events had also been a boon for him in many ways. It had focused his mind on what was truly important in that moment, giving him a powerful motivation to focus his time and energy on developing key skills, like those that would serve him well in combat, as well as giving him the push to move more quickly on the Potter Docklands' reconstruction, despite the risks involved.
Secondly, due to the press positively lapping up the juicy sob story of a polite, well-mannered orphan boy, targeted for death by the power hungry and corrupt Lord Malfoy, his popularity and political capital was at an all time high. With the wider public lapping up the skilfully written stories, his fame and standing in the magical world had improved tremendously, becoming a household name, almost akin to the Boy-Who-Lived.
At the same time, several articles had been written and published that strongly implied that his godfather's wrongful imprisonment had been engineered by the Lord Malfoy in an attempt to steal the Black family name and fortune. Of course, there was no real evidence, just speculation, but the 'rumour' helped to damage the Malfoy name even further in the public's eyes.
This was true power in many ways, the way he could invisibly reach out to manipulate and influence magical Britain, the ability to bend and distort the truth to his benefit through his puppet of a reporter. Right now not only was she producing and directing a wonderful sob campaign to garner him sympathy, but she was also conducting a systematic campaign of character assassination against the Malfoy family, in preparation for their court hearing. Each member of the family, and frankly anyone even remotely associated with them, was being discredited to the point that victory was almost certain.
Yes, it was an underhanded tactic, one what would never work in the non-magical world due to laws against defamation, but with only one true newspaper in magical Britain, with their star reporter under his control, and no laws preventing such defamation, he could get away with ordering it.
Frankly, he didn't care if the tactic he was using was less than noble and was 'outside' the traditional noble values of the Potter family. He had to be ice cold to survive in this world by himself, like a persistent winter storm, as he slowly buried the Malfoy family in the following days.
He was playing for keeps, nothing more and nothing less. The price to be paid for trying to kill him, to end his family line forever, was the complete destruction of the Malfoy family for good. He would destroy their legacy and their name as well, which meant any tactic was fair game in his book.
...
A/N : if we get 400 power stones by the end of the week, I will release an extra chapter ;)
...
if you want to read ahead of the public release you can join my p atreon :
p atreon.com/loveran