HP: The Big Bad Wolf

[Part 01: I am gonna fuck everyone!!!]

The next morning, my peaceful slumber was abruptly interrupted by the booming voice of my grandfather echoing through the room.

"Sev, what kind of perversity have you brewed up now with that twisted mind of yours?" he bellowed, brandishing the piece of parchment I had written yesterday, and commanded an elf to hand it to him this morning.

My eyes flickered open, still heavy with sleep, and I squinted up at him in confusion. "Huh?" I mumbled, trying to shake off the drowsiness that clung to my thoughts.

"Good morning to you too, gramps," I muttered sarcastically as I finally managed to sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. A glimpse in the mirror caught my attention, and for a brief moment, I couldn't help but smirk at the reflection staring back at me.

*Sparkle*

'Damn it, I'm looking good! I look like every teen girl's wet dream! Well, I look like my own wet dream!' I thought, a hint of arrogance creeping into my mind. The effects of the full moon seemed to be doing more wonders for my physique than I expected, leaving me with a body I couldn't quite believe was mine. 

'I really need to keep track of these changes,' I scolded myself internally. Only a fool would ignore the consequences of such a powerful ritual, and it seems I am that very fool.

"Enough dilly-dallying, boy! I want answers. What in Morgana's dry cunt are you planning?" Grandfather's voice snapped me out of my reverie, his impatience plain to hear.

"Well, I was thinking—" I began, only to be promptly cut off by his exasperated sigh.

*SIIIIIIIIGH*

"God gracious, the boy was thinking!? That's a first," he quipped, his tone laced with sarcasm as he throws his arms up.

"Hey, calm down, old man, and let me speak," I retorted, trying to assert some authority in the conversation.

'Old Fucker!! If you want answers, then let me answer!' I thought annoyed.

"Nothing good ever starts with 'I was thinking'! I lived with two women for years, and I know that whatever comes after 'I was thinking' is never a good idea, and I dread the steaming Bullshit you are gonna dish me," he quipped, sounding like a completely retarded moron.

*Sigh*

"I was thinking of how to abuse the system," I replied, attempting to steer the conversation back on track.

"What?!" he exclaimed, clearly taken aback by my statement.

"Well, the system! How Gringotts operates, how wizard kind behaves, and generally how Muggles work," I explained broadly, hoping to give him a glimpse into my thought process.

"And what did you come up with? What loophole did my grandson find that no other pureblood has ever tried to use to cheat the bloody system? In the centuries since we have it established, and forced unto us?!" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"If you keep behaving like a petulant child, I won't disclose my plan!" I shot back, feeling increasingly annoyed. I turned to walk away, but he swiftly waved his wand, freezing me in place.

"You stay right here, young man, and explain to me what madness your sick mind has cooked up in its anger-induced state," he demanded, his tone firm.

"Fine. It's a multistep plan, and each step is necessary for it to work! I want to fuck all of them, not just the Blacks!!!" I explained, begrudgingly acquiescing to his demand.

"Do you now?!" He asks me, unbelieving.

'Why are there so many heretics?! I am a genius, a certified and proven genius!' I wondered to myself.

"Step one is all about generating wealth in the Muggle world! I plan to build a criminal empire, and with magic, that shit is just too easy! It is like sending a heavyweight boxer to beat up that dwarf named Bollah or something!" I exclaimed, unable to contain my excitement.

"Which dwarf, are you talking about?! Who is Bollah?!" My grandfather asks me incredulously, apparently worried about my sanity.

"Just imagine, transporting tons of drugs from one place to another and hiding them under a Notice-Me-Not charm," I continued, my grin widening at the sheer brilliance of the idea. "I can use Portkey's to move drugs from Country A to Country B, circumventing all Border controls, and with a bag enchanted with an expansion charm, it becomes all the more viable."

"So you want to poison the Muggles with drugs?!" he asked, sounding incredulous.

"Well, yes! But I'd do even more to ruin their miserable little lives," I replied nonchalantly while shrugging my shoulders, as if it were the most logical and sane plan in the world.

"Let's ignore the evil part of your plan for a second, Severus. You do know that Gringotts doesn't exchange Muggle money for pure-bloods, or adult Wizards! How do you plan to use that useless wealth?" he questioned, his tone laced with scepticism.

"Ugh, noob!" I retorted, feeling annoyed by his lack of understanding.

"What?!" he asked, clearly confused by the term.

"We don't need to use pure-bloods, or adults! We'll use the fucking Muggle-born children!" I clarified, feeling exasperated by his oversight.

He paused for a moment, his eyes gleaming with newfound understanding. "That could work! But how do you plan to go about it? You cannot just walk to them and ask them to exchange money for you!" he inquired, slowly grasping the concept.

"Why walk to them?! They'll come to me!!! Muggle-born's don't typically have the wealth to abuse the system, and even if they do, they've never thought to exploit it! In fact, nobody has!!! Plus, their transactional power is only legitimate during their school years, so they'll never be able to do much damage to the System. But if we set up a shop..." I explained, excitement bubbling up within me.

"What kind of shop?" he inquired, his interest piqued.

"A shop where students enter into our custody instead of Hogwarts'. They'll sign us up as their magical guardians, and in return, we'll sponsor their spending, and even give them Pocket money," I elaborated.

"In this way, we can exchange the useless Muggle money from the Drugs, and other crimes for Galleons in their name! We'll be able to milk Gringotts dry, and with a non-disclosure contract, we can keep this scheme going for decades, even centuries, without anyone being any wiser!" He concluded, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the brilliance of my plan.

"Exactly! All we need to do is build a criminal empire to generate wealth, then siphon this wealth into Gringotts and use the gold we generate to buy out the idiots out of everything that is getting produced. We'll inflate the market while owning all production! Eventually, we'll screw them all without any bloodshed. Heck, the motherfucker's will be happy to work for us, because we are the Big Corp!!! But of course, I have plans for the Bloodshed part too!" I explained enthusiastically to the old man, who seemed to have little understanding of banking, the system, or wealth.

"What does Big Corp mean?!" he asks me.

It took me another three hours to satisfy the old man's curiosity. By the end of our discussion, he stormed off to find buildings in Diagon Alley, France, Germany, Asia, Africa, the States, and other places to set our plan into motion.

'GO BIG OR GO HOME!!!' I thought to myself, and the old man apparently agrees, as he wants to pull this off in a big way, and not hold back.

We divided the workload between us, with me handling the Muggle side and him overseeing the Magical aspects of our plan. If all goes well, we could launch everything in as little as two to three months.

The Pure-Bloods would never conceive of the idea to sponsor Muggle-born's education, let alone involve themselves in the Muggle world.

On another note I discarded the idea of buying stocks in corporations that are predicted to succeed, as it is utterly foolishness.

I don't get why all transmigrators in Novels do this shit! I assume it's because they fail to grasp that their mere presence will create a butterfly effect, and will undoubtedly have an impact. This is the crux of the theory, after all! A minor alteration can influence the overall trajectory of the future. Imagine if a person behaves differently, aka the Transmigrator/Reincarnated Idiot! He invests in Microsoft, and suddenly individuals who would have been employed elsewhere or not at all find themselves working there.

One small action can ripple through countless variables, leading to a chain reaction that alters the course of the future. So why rely on something so unreliable? I'd much rather bank on proven patterns of human behaviour, such as drug consumption, violence, and greed.

I will never know for certain if people can come up with the same ideas if their circumstances are not the exact same, but I can for sure know and predict that a drug addict will steal to get his drugs.

I've already deployed my house elves to gather intel on police officers, lawyers, politicians, and other influential figures, and as soon as I have dirt on them, I will visit them.

Then, I'll flood countries with drugs, stirring up chaos and instability. After that, I'll invest in land to cultivate food production. Basically taking charge of what they can eat or cannot eat, followed by clothing, and finally I will top it off by taking control of the media!

Using this amassed wealth, I'll gradually infiltrate and take control of a single country, shaping it into my vision of a secure haven while sowing chaos everywhere else. The masses will flock to me, willingly trading their freedoms for the illusion of security, unwittingly becoming cogs in my money-making machine.

Sure, this plan may take decades to unfold, but I'll achieve what Grindelwald couldn't and fulfil Voldemort's ambitions. Along the way, I'll bankrupt the goblins and subjugate wizard kind.

As I revel in my brilliance, my maniacal laughter echoes through the halls.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHA!!!" 

"Da new master is at it again, Slavfi," a concerned house elf whispers to his friend.

"Let him be. He's been off since yesterday's events. Just one of his mood swings," comes the resigned response.

"Are you sure?!" the concerned elf asks worriedly.

"Yes, yesterday he beat up two muggles! What kind of self-respecting wizard beats up muggles with his fists?!" Slavfi says consiprationally.

"Really?!" the other elf asks, shocked at the revelation.

[Part 02: Meeting my new Minions.]

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The next day greeted me with clear skies and sunshine, urging me to swiftly put my plans into action. My loyal yet fugly house elves had been assigned the task of gathering intel on the Muggle world and the fuckers running it.

Throughout the day, their reports flooded in, detailing scandals and secrets of the Muggle elite. From illicit affairs to shady dealings, no stone was left unturned.

I now know who is fucking whose wife, whose secretary is blowing him, and which personal trainer is nailing their wives, daughters, and other such scandals. And damn it all, high society is a cesspool!

As I sifted through the information, a clear divide emerged among the Muggle populace: those with ties to the magical world, and those without. Dealing with them would require finesse and subtlety.

"I will just send people to beat them up!" I decided spontaneously. I mean, they can't stay holed in there forever, and I can send muggles to get the job done.

But before that, I turned my attention to the power players, the big bosses, the Capos of London's underworld. Armed with the names provided by my friends from the night prior, I set out to make my presence known. It was astonishingly easy to locate them, thanks to my Map.

"Haha, I knew the Map was a genius wish!" I thought with a smirk on my face as I walked out of one of their hideouts.

With each visit, I employed a simple yet effective strategy: I call it the wrath of GOD. Walk in, beat them up, make demands, and walk out. No magic is necessary; my physical prowess is more than sufficient to intimidate and beat the living shit out of these fuckers. I mean, even in my base form, I have the Mask of Balzac, and am superior to these bugs. My Modus Operandi is as straightforward as it can get, a knock on the door, a punch, and I am inside, dismantling their operations one thug at a time.

The 'wannabe' bosses, too, proved susceptible to persuasion. A broken finger here, a twisted arm there, and they were singing like canaries, agreeing to wag their tails for me like bitches in heat. They trembled at the mere mention of "The Big Bad Wolf," a persona I had crafted to sow fear and confusion among their ranks.

I thought to myself before I started everything, how would John Wick do it?! And then I did it! But I did not kill anyone, as they're all my minions, and killing them is counterproductive!

It amused me to think how easily they fell for the lies, believing there was another force lurking behind me. In truth, it was just me, a lone wolf orchestrating chaos in the shadows.

'Luckily, no Aurors appeared to shit on my parade.' I mused.

'The fucking morons think having weapons is gonna help them?!' I thought after crashing the third hideout happily. Unless it is an assault weapon small calibre weapons cannot even penetrate my hide, and being able to smell them, while having superior instincts, speed, and power makes beating them up so damn easy.

But even so, as I made my moves in the Muggle world, I remained vigilant. There is always the possibility of interference from the magical authorities, and I could ill afford to be caught off guard.

I went with the assumption that there is some kind of pact between the Muggle and wizarding governments. I know it may be far-fetched, but it is better to be prepared for all eventualities.

How did Moody say it? "Constant Vigilance!" I remembered. And so, with each victory in the underworld, I strengthened my position, laying the groundwork for my next moves.

Finally, as I sat down with gramps for dinner, he inquired about my day.

"I took care of all the local gangs and criminal groups," I explained between bites of food.

"But how? You know you shouldn't use magic with Muggles, right?" he questioned, concern etched on his face.

"Don't worry, I didn't use a single spell. I handled things using Muggle methods," I reassured him, appreciating the delicious meal prepared by our house elves.

"Okay, anything else you need help with?" he asked, ever the supportive mentor.

"Yes, we need more elves," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Sure, I'll take care of procuring more of the little buggers," he replied casually, his priorities seemingly in order.

"And I require Portkeys for a few countries, as well as some houses that need to be warded," I added, outlining the specifics of my requirements for our expanding operation.

Over the next two weeks, I found myself travelling across the globe, laying the groundwork for our enterprise. With the assistance of my grandfather, I even recruited five werewolf wizards, who swore magical oaths of secrecy and loyalty.

Their role was simple: to act as couriers and representatives of the Big Bad Wolf.

They'd meet the Muggles, tell them where the Drugs are hidden, take the money, and so on. And due to being wizards, they'd apparate away as soon as they were out of sight, so no one can follow them.

Also, I will soon be back at Hogwarts, and I cannot be bothered to play courier, or money collector, as that is beneath me!

Finally, why I picked them is because of my wicked sense of humour! I don't need to send out hitmen to take care of problematic minions, or groups. I will have my muggle Kidnap someone for me, let the asshole get bitten during the full moon, and send him back to his group! No one would suspect magic is at play; they would simply assume a Muggle had been unlucky enough to get bitten and was unaware of their lycanthropic condition. To the police, it would appear as a typical case of a beast attack, diverting attention from my true activities.

'This game is ridiculously easy to play!' I mused to myself.

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Greetings, everyone! 

Gimme them Power Stones pretty please!

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