Part I: The Vanguard
I.
The Architect
Top Secret:
From the desk of H. P.
Auror File # 2337
Code Name:
Architect
Real Name:
Ralph Garmund Britten
Auror Exam Results:
High Pass
Speciality:
Spell Architecture/Enhanced Legilimency
Rank:
Division Leader: Spell Creation and Adaptation
Missions Attempted:
137
Successful Missions:
137
Failed Missions:
0
Reprimands:
3
Psychological Profile:
Inconclusive, low sociability
Ability Class:
A: Highly Combat Effective
Personal Notes/Observations:
Anti-social yet incredibly powerful; Secretive, surveillance of activities recommended
An aging, grey, cobblestone wall, slowly crumbling to its foundations, encircled a dilapidated house; a faint, flickering light was barely visible through the solitary window. The exterior of this small dwelling appeared unkempt, paint chipping off the warped wooden facade; what was left of the thatched roof dipped, dangerously, toward the innards of the structure. A meager dirt path led through dozens of dying shrubs to the front door, which appeared to have no visible means of admission. The door was a solid piece of wood, battered like the rest of the exterior, with no handle or adornments of any kind, effectively blocking any visitor from entering the premises. Showing every sign of disrepair, the house looked like a relic from a bygone age, forgotten to the pages of history. However, for all its apparent faults, this shack kept such overwhelming secrets, powers almost unimaginable, and terrors so horrifying that none but the boldest would dare confront. This apparently insignificant edifice was the laboratory of the Architect.
The Architect was an odd man, solitary and quiet. He never spoke unnecessarily and was scarcely seen outside of either his lab or the Auror office; most people simply avoided him, consciously giving the man a wide berth to escape the awkward feeling associated with his presence. It was in his eyes; the Architect had a way of mentally penetrating even the most disciplined minds, a feat seemingly far beyond legilimency. Those eyes, fiercely blue and frighteningly agile, missed nothing. He saw every detail of every situation, every movement, every minute characteristic and used them to his advantage. It was precisely this ability that gave the Architect the keen senses, and sharp intellect, that aided his never-ending quest for total enlightenment. Long, curly locks of dirty-blonde hair formed a curtain around his ghostly-white face, pockmarked with the scars of many confrontations. His features were slightly aristocratic, with high cheekbones and a prominent brow; his unshaven and neglected beard was surprisingly thin, yet all of this suited him. He wore a long black traveler's cloak over a black button-up and slacks; the Architect preferred simple attire, it was unwise to foolishly adorn oneself with flashy outfits when trying to avoid unwanted attention.
The Architect was uncannily adept at spell creation, indeed much of the Auror spell arsenal was of his construction. He sat on a wooden stool, hunched over a long scroll with countless illustrations, instructions and crossings-out: the Architect was in the midst of creating a new spell. He was entirely out of sight, unless someone had their nose pressed up against the hut's grimy window; the interior was permanently enlarged to accommodate the increasing amount of research materials: books, parchment, potions and ingredients among a myriad of other components. A quick perusal of the work environment would have revealed little to a novice or amateur, the haphazard organization would look like laziness to some; but in actuality his unorthodox approach yielded startling results. Even the great Harry Potter adopted and praised his creations; both Fulgaro Tempus (a time release light bomb, used for creating distractions) and Contego Speculum (conjures a shield capable of reflecting most major curses back upon the caster) are considered official Auror spells, required knowledge to enter basic training. Of course, he did not share all of his oeuvre, the Architect kept his most sinister works private. He recently completed experimentation on a new area effect spell: Desino Cerebrus. This enchantment was particularly ominous, it created an invisible barrier that, when passed through, immediately ceased all higher brain function (effectively turning any unfortunate victim into a mindless vegetable).
The Architect's brain was in overdrive, calculating the complex equations that went into creating a new spell. Every facet of a spell had an effect on its execution: wand movement, mental concentration, incantation, all must be present and in the correct balance for adequate results.
"Too much motion, the wand movement needs to mirror the intended effect," his brain was whirring with silent computations:
"Concentrate on an accumulation of energy, converted from a positive emotional fixation––triggered by memory association and gathered with a spiral wand motion..." he was getting closer to a practical experiment.
"Explosio Patronum... no, not good enough... Explosum... no..." He wanted to create a more effective means of defeating dementors; Expecto Patronum can only do so much, usually only successful at driving them off. The Architect wanted a spell that would incapacitate and destroy a dementor (with possible other uses), combining positive energy and explosive power: a patronus bomb of sorts.
A smile began to work its way across the otherwise unreadable features of the Architect's face, the incantation came to him; with one final scratch on his parchment he looked at the prototype charm: Explosus Patronum. The Architect stood up, and drew his cloak about him. Walking over to the window, he pulled back the moth-eaten curtain to see night blanketing the countryside.
"Perfect," he thought, "under cover of nightfall I can begin practical tests immediately." Drawing his wand from an invisible pocket, he waved it in a flowing, seamless motion, instantly vanishing his research materials. He walked to the door and tapped it, then passed through the solid wood out into the cold night air.
"First, a powerful positive memory to stimulate the proper mental state..." His mind, locked in concentration, was intensely focused on his chosen memory.
"Second, channel the energy from the memory in a spiral pattern around the body..." He began to circle his wand about his body, and as he did so, silvery-white spindles started to emanate from the wand tip.
"Explosus..." he held the wand above his head, "PATRONUM!" A gleaming silver falcon appeared for a split second, and with a loud, piercing screech, exploded in a massive wave of energy. It illuminated the night, its force ridding the dying shrubs of what little foliage was still clinging to their branches.
"Success!" cried the Architect, and his eyes betrayed a distinct glimmer of pride. Smirking, he turned to re-enter his laboratory and record the new charm in his log. It was then that he felt it, that familiar warmth from his back pocket. With a twinge of annoyance, he pulled out a large gold coin and examined it. He knew what it meant when the coin became hot: Harry Potter had a mission for him. Regretting that he would not be able to continue his work, he immediately turned on the spot and disapparated.