Draco Malfoy grimaced. It was a good plan on paper: get Madam Rosmerta to Imperius a student, and have that student deliver a cursed trinket to Professor Slughorn. But Katie Bell had been obviously under the curse, and people had noticed.

...wait a moment. He was missing something important. Something that could change everything.

He'd placed Rosmerta under the curse. And she'd placed Bell under the curse.

"Crabbe, Goyle," he said, snapping a privacy barrier in place.

"Yes Boss?" Crabbe said, coming vaguely to attention.

"You wanted us, Boss?" Goyle asked.

"Honestly now, how many people can you hold under the Imperius at once?"

Goyle shrugged while Crabbe started counting on his fingers. "I've done three, maybe four muggles before," Goyle answered. After a pause, Crabbe held up two fingers.

Perfect, he thought. Crabbe and Goyle were not pinnacles of magical achievement by any means. The most Draco had ever held under the curse at once was four, and that hadn't felt like a strain.

"There's something I have to test. Hold still. Imperio," he cast at Crabbe. "Imperio," he repeated at Goyle before his other minion could react. "Just act like you normally would."

There were two important things Draco had to know. And since patience wasn't his primary virtue, it was off to the Slytherin potions lab. He whipped up a quick batch of Dreamless Sleep and quaffed it on returning to his dorm room.

Nine hours later, at 3am, he awoke. He could feel his control of Crabbe and Goyle still intact. The curse would allow him to turn them into puppets, give them commands, even gain a limited degree of knowledge about their surroundings.

With a thought he woke them both and directed them to the common room. He joined in a minute. The room wasn't quite empty, but it was close enough.

"Did anything notice anything about your behavior?" Draco asked.

Crabbe shrugged.

Goyle shrugged.

Draco sighed in exasperation. "I'll just look at your thoughts, then. Legilimens." After a few minutes of probing the two, it looked like everything was in the clear.

So. He could control a handful of people directly. Each of them could control several others on his behalf, as he'd proven with Rosmerta and Bell. He started laughing, but in a moment it turned into a mad cackle.

It only took two days in the end, and that was being excessively cautious, but by Tuesday he was crowned King Draco I of England.

# # #

Of course, it wouldn't have worked out that way. Here's a better version:

# # #

Tom Riddle perked up mentally. Outwardly, he didn't react; he'd been acting the attentive student already. But this was interesting: the Unforgivable Curses would no doubt be powerful.

Professor McCowan only gave a short description, but it was clear which one was the most interesting. A better way of killing people – even Muggles had effective techniques. A better pain curse – he knew a dozen, and they were enough for his purposes. A way of controlling people? For one who would rule, that was like catnip.

As a third year, he was finally allowed off Hogwarts grounds, and with his growing skill with memory charms, it should be safe enough. He would be sure to test it out this coming weekend.

– And the weekend after that, the only mages in the British Isles with free will were Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore.

# # #

No, that's still not right. One more try:

# # #

The current Master of Britain was a man by the name of Aberforth Dumbledore, and he was one of the better ones, everyone agreed. They would have said the same of anyone, really, but in this case they even meant it.

There had been Masters of Britain who had demanded neverending worship, and people had knelt down to praise him until they starved to death. There had been Masters who sent their thralls in unending wars with neighboring lands. Sometimes a Master had taken strict control of their thralls and then thoughtlessly given an order that resulted in the death of hundreds, or at least tons of wasted effort.

Aberforth, though, ruled lightly and thoughtfully. He gave objectives instead of orders, most of the time. He had some of his thralls under standing orders to identify and warn him of unintended consequences and forgotten orders, others to keep him informed of the health of his subjects.

And he'd done more to secure the borders of Britain against all others.

He'd given up the holdings in Scandinavia, finally relinquished Caux to Burgundy, and seized the remnants of Tyrone. He'd renewed magical education that his predecessor had neglected. And he'd come up with a ward system to protect the whole of the British Isles.

Tom Riddle, under the constant balm of the Imperius curse (administered by Gaius Nott, who was under the thrall of Dorea Black, who had been Imperiused by Dumbledore himself), considered that this system had some possibilities in it. Some advantages. He was a slave, but he was well treated. This Dumbledore seemed to view the health of his thralls as a personal measure of success or self-worth or something. Regardless, since he'd been picked up from the orphanage after his first display of his powers, he'd eaten well every day, worn clothing sewn specifically for him, and had started learning magic.

The compelled obedience deal wasn't great, but it hadn't really come up so far. It felt more like having a straightforward career path lined up.

The years passed, he learned more, and the Master kept an eye on him. Took a personal interest in his instruction, after a few years.

Eventually, the Master had grown old. He summoned several people into his office at the Palace at Hogsmeade. Tom was one, and the aging Gaius Nott was another; the rest, he barely recognized. But they had nameplates on their cloaks, insignia marking their positions in the web of Imperius curses that controlled the land. One red gem each – they were the ones under the Master's direct control.

"Tom," Aberforth greeted him. "I've taught you a lot over the years, haven't I? Yes. Well. I needed a successor, and I think you'll do. I hope you'll do.

"I've used you gently, I think. I want you to follow me on that. I hope you let me live out my days as peacefully as you've lived in your youth. But in a few moments, you'll be the Master of Britain, and you will decide how things go on the island."

He paused, took a deep breath. "Gaius, please release Tom from the Imperius Curse."