Disclaimer: I don't own either of the Star Wars or Harry Potter franchises. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written with commercial purpose in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.
Chapter 4: Unintended consequences
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Part 5
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13 January 1986
Ivanov's lair
Sofia
Bulgaria
Defensive charms, hexes and curses – why no one have created an overall term for those when placed on an object or place, like wards or perhaps shields, I would never know. Anyway, we got to learn a lot about those in Drumstrang, especially the darker and nastier ones. It took me only a cursory examination to confirm my minion's words – getting into the office conventionally would require either hours of examination and careful dismantling of the defences, Ivanov to let us in or... Well, there was one thing I learned a long time ago on Korriban that aligned with what Dimitri was taught in his school. While skill is always important, vital even, there was no substitute for raw, overwhelming power.
I gathered the Force around me until the very air began to tremble with power. I took a deep breath, concentrated on the energy swirling around me and focused into thin spears of gleaming light and suffocating darkness, which I hurled at the office. The defences did retaliate – cutting charms and withering curses flew my way followed by a wall of Dark Magic that moved a bit slower.
They were fast, yet they moved much slower than blaster bolts. I didn't bother getting out-of-the-way and instead sheared off a large section of the floor to use as a barrier, then snapped a wall made of the Force itself behind it. The cutting curses sliced through parts of the concrete before losing coherence and harmlessly splashing over my shield; the curses on the other hand not so slowly turned part of the barrier into so much dust. Then the Dark Magic slammed into my improvised defence and simply ate through the parts of the floor I had in front of me. That was decidedly nasty stuff. Then it hit my Force barrier and not only pushed it back but began to warp it from the sheer stress. I responded by channelling more power into my shield and managed to stabilize it shortly before I would have had to make myself scarce.
Note to self, learn more about curse breaking and breaching other people's defences when the time allowed. That or find the money to hire proper specialists...
I shook away those thoughts and redoubled my attack upon the office. More spears of Force energy – both Light and Dark slammed into its walls where I could sense the greatest concentration of magic. The defences did retaliate, however my shield held. My rough estimation of what I was dealing with made me raise an eyebrow – what the office threw at me was somewhat comparable to a bloody artillery barrage, though that came mostly from the wall of Dark Magic constantly attacking me.
I wasn't sure if my attacks were responsible or if the defences simply ran out of juice long before I did, however soon enough the onslaught slamming into my shield lessened before drying up. Once it stopped completely, I took no chances and used the force to shear through the walls of the office and hopefully any enchantments anchored to them.
There were more defences inside, layered over the desk and the various file cabinets. Overwhelming power did help, however various charms saw more than half the files and small treasures either burned to ash or melted. No matter, I got everything I could into a pair of expanded bags and made my way back to Vance.
"We have a problem, My Lord. Someone put quite powerful anti-apparation and portkey fields above us."
"Aurors or more of Ivanov's goons?" I asked.
"Does it matter?" Vance asked.
That was a good question. While some of our actions up to date were certainly illegal, we haven't clashed with the law yet. I smiled. Dimitri Veil had to be an upstanding citizen. The Dark Lord of the Sith on the other hand...
"That would be up to them. Don't misplace our new friend. You know where's our new camp and don't forget to lay a false trail before going there. I'll make a distraction if I have to."
"Yes, My Lord." Vance nodded in relief.
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Chief Auror Pchelarski glared at the utter mess he had to deal with. Someone dared demolish a whole building using magic, in the middle of the day, in the bloody capital of his country! To make things worse, he knew what was below it – it wasn't exactly a secret where Stephan Ivanov had his lair, it was just that he was the closest thing to an untouchable criminal in the whole country – solid political backing, excellent advocates and the worst thing – he was careful to keep his hands clean. He had people to do the crimes for him and none of those talked.
The bastard just had to piss off a Dark Lord too, because who else would risk the Statues of Secrecy in such a cavalier way! Not to mention that attacking a vampire's lair, especially the one of someone like Ivanov would take a small army at the best of circumstances!
Alexander heard shouting from the left and glanced in that direction. A squad of his Aurors and a bunch of what had to be Ivanov's day goons had their wands out and pointed at each other. At least there were more and more Aurors coming all the time – the whole quick reaction force of twenty was already in place making sure the muggles would be kept out of it, busy containing the fires and making sure no one was going to just apparate or portkey away.
The ground rumbled under his feet and what was left of the burning building collapsed in a shower of debris and clouds of suffocating concrete and brick dust that were enough to cut visibility to practically zero. Alexander cursed and began casting. A bubble head charm was first then various detection spells. Moments later his Aurors lit in green visible despite the grey haze surrounding them all. The seven goons turned red and fortunately they were smart enough not to cast at his people... and three red signatures floated from the centre of the destroyed building.
"Halt! Aurors! You are under arrest!" An Auror shouted.
"My work here is done. Let us be and I'll return the favour." A voice thundered making Alexander wince. The Obliviators were going to earn their pay today.
"We can't do that! Surrender or else!" Another Auror shouted and Pchelarski felt like face-palming. You simply never told something like that to a suspected Dark Lord.
Purple light illuminated the dust clouds. Merlin damn it! "Cast away, take them down!" Alexander snapped and followed his own order.
A barrage of charms, hexes, jinxes and outright curses flew at the three floating figures. Two of them shot in the air as if propelled by a monstrously powerful banisher and soon passed through the edge of the anti-apparation and anti-portkey field. Moments later they popped away. That had to be the Dark Lords people, perhaps Ivanov too if he went for capturing another prisoner. That most likely left...
"Shield and scatter!" The Chief Auror roared and rolled away from where he stood. If he was right...
Thunder roared, blinding torrents of lighting – both light and dark purple slashed through the dust clouds and it was only sheer blind luck and reflexes born from years on the job that kept Alexander from getting fried where he stood. He saw the green signatures of his people scattering, some freezing in place and others flying back as if struck by battering rams. The same was true for Ivanov's goons – those simply vanished under a virtual purple storm.
The sheer fury of the onslaught was enough to disperse most of the cloud and the Chief Auror blanched at what he saw. The Dark Lord stood upon a piece of concrete that floated about twenty metres in the air. A rotating barrier made of all kinds of debris, some of which were still burning surrounded him, however all that was a mere sideshow. What focuses Alexander's mind was the oppressive sense of unbound Dark Magic that shrouded the man like a cloak.
Pchelarski had seen Voldemort at his worst during one of his recruiting tours through Europe. This... this was worse. So much darkness... what infernal rituals did this madman dabble in to gain such power?!
"I won't warn you again!" The Dark Lord's voice thundered. "Next time I won't be so forgiving."
He shot in the air along with all the debris surrounding him until he was past the anti-apparation field, then banished all that crap at the Aurors before popping away. Alexander cursed and began casting at the incoming barrage.
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Part 6
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13 January 1986
Ivanov's lair
Sofia
Bulgaria
Obliviators ran all over the place along with disaster relief personnel – both magical and Muggle. The whole district was cordoned by the Milicia after a call to the liaison with the Muggle government, who were understandably unhappy. The Minister of Magic wasn't happy, his major backers were even less happy, which meant that Director Malinova was under tremendous pressure to make the problem go away. Soon enough the ICW might sent representatives to demonstrate their mood too and it wasn't going to be stellar.
"Pchelarski, report!" The Director barked after locating her Chief Auror. She found him sitting on the pavement being treated by a Medi-witch for shallow wounds caused by debris.
Alexander glanced at the healer and waved her away before twisting his right wrist to retrieve his wand from his holster. He cast a few privacy charms and did as instructed. "We've got a real Dark Lord on our hands, all right." Pchelarski grumbled. Two or three people hit Ivanov's lair, wiped out a large group of his goons along with more than a hundred civilians who worked either in this building," he pointed at the crater behind him, "one of the surrounding ones or got caught on the street."
Lydia closed her eyes and cursed viciously. Yaga's sagged tits, what did that bloodsucker do to provoke a Dark Lord into something like this?!
"They either got Ivanov or one of the attackers got wounded during the assault. I'm betting on the former. We got people into what's left of his living quarters – they got away mostly intact and there are sings they were searched for something."
"Blackmail material? Something the Dark Lord needed or simple opportunity?" Malinova listed the first options that came to mind.
"Unknown at this time, Director." Alexander sighed and proceeded to explain exactly what happened when the Dark Lord came out.
"Get your ass to HQ and ready your memories for viewing. We'll need to be better prepared the next time." Malinova ordered. When the Chief Auror was done and she saw the memories herself, Lydia was convinced that she would be requesting from Kniajev to call ICW assistance.
The kind of magic displayed today – it was a statement as much as anything else. And that message to her Aurors, it made her blood boil. She looked around and though about everything she knew so far. The Dark Lord's first appearance – he went after that were alpha, who in turn worked for Ivanov. The werewolf was likely causing trouble for one of the Veela sanctuaries... and at least one of the girls there knew the Dark Lord. A lover or perhaps an ally? If that was the case, this was far from over. Lydia knew very well the kind of pressure her department was under concerning the Veelas. The Dark Lord was unlikely to stop before he either made a deal to his liking or resolved the issue, which meant that he would likely go after one of the Minister's backers once he was done interrogating Ivanov – she couldn't assume that the vampire managed to get himself killed and thus bought her time to prepare better before the next débâcle.
The Director scowled. She had to talk with the Minister and it was going to be one unpleasant conversation.
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13 January 1986
Veil's camp
unplottable location
Pirin Mountains
Bulgaria
Searing pain brought Stephan back to the world of the living. He choked on the stench of fucking garlic and tried to get away from it only to slice his skin on something sharp and stinging. It took him long painful moments to figure out he was bound with heavy chains that bit into his flesh every time he attempted to move.
"You'll pay for this!" The vampire snarled. His eyes snapped open and he glared around.
Ivanov found himself bound to what felt like a metal chair that stood in the middle of a forest clearing. There were two tents in front of him with a merrily burning fire between them. A man wearing black hooded robes sat on a terribly out-of-place armchair with another standing next to the open flames where he cooked a large chunk of meat on a split over the fireplace.
"I wouldn't?" An amused question came from the sitting man.
He put away a parchment he was reading from and leaned forward to look better at Stephan. The stranger waved a hand and powdered garlic flew from a large sack the vampire didn't notice until now. The Hades damned thing flew right into his face and open wounds making him scream and choke. Ivanov coughed and spat until his mouth was clear of the vile substance, which burned worse than garlic had any right to!
"You'll die screaming for this, wizard! Do you have any idea who I am?!" Stephan glared at his tormentor. He had friends and allies who would see this man made an example of! His fate would be a legendary cautionary tale!
The man in black raised a gloved hand and looked at it. Shadows exploded from his flesh and coalescented into a pulsing ball of darkness, which he threw at Stephan.
Ivanov recoiled, however his chains were too tightly bound and heavy, the chair – too secure for him to have a chance. The strange magic slammed into his face and he howled as it ate not just his flesh but struck his very mind.
Being a vampire should have offered him some substantial protection against the mind arts. Whatever this was, it clawed right at his very sanity with claws colder than the grave.
"You misunderstand your purpose, my friend. You will die, here, once I'm done with you. The only question is how much entertainment value I would extract with you. So please, do resist. It will make things more fun – for me."
His captor made a gesture and Stephan felt his bones shatter. Something clawed at his mind again and more garlic flew into his screaming mouth.
"Please, tell me about Ilia Gorski."
The old vampire resisted, he really tried to spite the mother fucker torturing him. Yet, long before dawn on the fourteenth of January, he broke and told the monster everything he wanted to know. When the sun came, Stephan gladly accepted its burning embrace.
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13 January 1986
The Minister's office
Ministry of Magic
Sofia
Bulgaria
Director Malinova looked from the Minister to Ilia Gorski, who Kniajev insisted to be present for her report. The two wizards couldn't be more different from each other.
Kniajev was a small shifty man who looked ridiculous behind the old ornate desk that had been in this office form more centuries than Lydia cared to count. The Minister's biggest claim to fame was that he was an honest politician – once Gorski and his allies bought him, he stayed bought. It was too bad that the Director could never get enough evidence that could get them all behind bars.
In contrast to the Minister, the old noble was solidly built and tall – he stood just shy of two metres and even in his seventies he was a mountain of muscles. There was nothing in his appearance that her thin Veela blood could object on. It was too bad that he had the personality of a particularly irate troll when he wasn't trying to show his best side – which she was pretty sure was a mere mask for the masses.
Rumour had it that Gorski was a complete and utter bastard who didn't shy from dirtying his hands. Unfortunately, everything Lydia had on him after more than two decades as an Auror and five years as Director was merely circumstantial. Certainly nothing that could ever stick to someone with that man's connections and wealth.
It didn't help that every time he thought Lydia wasn't paying attention, Gorski's pale eyes stared at her as if she was a piece of meat served for a feast. The hunger and dark promises in his gaze were enough to make her want to curse him into the next week and only her solid Occlumency training allowed her to keep that desire to herself.
"That's my official report, gentlemen." The Director finished and gave them a few moments to digest the information.
The way the Minister glanced at Gorski when Lydia voiced her theory about the Dark Lord's aims told her a lot. It was Gorski who pestered the Veelas, wasn't it? Either that or he and Kniajev were facilitating the desires of one of their other friends. The moment she could get away from the office, Lydia would be going to visit some of her own allies. If she found any proof that either Gorski or one of his cronies brought a Dark Lord upon their collective heads...
"I want him found!" Kniajev eventually found his voice – which wasn't an improvement to the silence with, which he listened to her report. His voice wasn't quite panicked, yet it betrayed his near terror. This man certainly wasn't the kind of Minister the country needed when there was a Dark Lord on the loose. "I want him dealt with!"
"We'll do our best." The today's carnage guaranteed it. "It very well may not be enough. I must make a formal request for ICW aid in this matter, Minister Kniajev. The abilities this Dark Lord already demonstrated... There were more than twenty of our Aurors against him today and he got away without breaking a sweat. We need help."
"I'll see what I can do..." Kniajev stammered.
Curious. He suddenly looked more scared from a possible ICW intervention than the Dark Lord who might decide to pay him a visit. Perhaps the Minister hoped to be bought and thus avoid further problems on that front, something that was unlikely to happen if the ICW sent agents.
The Director suppressed a sigh. She would have to keep even closer eye on Kniajev's actions from now on.
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Headmaster's Office
Hogwarts
United Kingdom
"That's not nice, Fawkes!" Albus Dumbledore pouted at his familiar. The Phoenix trilled cheerfully and flamed away when the old wizard tried to snatch the cup with his favourite lemon drops.
The Fire Bird appeared upon a nearby cupboard along with the sweets and preened.
"I'll let you know, lemon drops are perfectly fine for my health!" Fawkes tilted his head to the side and sang a negative note.
"Fine, be like that!" Albus smiled and retrieved a lemon drop from the top right drawer of his desk. He popped it in his mouth relishing on the bitter taste and smirked at his familiar. Every few weeks after his burning day, Fawkes acted like a typical teenager – getting into trouble and not listening when told what to do.
This January was no exception of that rule.
At least it was never boring, though it could be occasionally vexing – like winter eighty-three, when Fawkes hid all of Albus' woollen socks. That was unpleasant. Despite all the magic seeped in Hogwarts' floors and walls, the old castle was a chilly place during the winter and warming charms could do only so much. There was simply no substitute for warm clothes and real fire in the depth of winter.
Albus let his too energetic familiar be and returned his attention to the bane of his existence – the tons of paperwork that came with the three positions he had to deal with – two of which got forced upon him decades ago and considering the alternative candidates, he never dared refuse them. The Headmaster sighed – being here in Hogwarts, running the school and teaching, that was what he ever wanted but it was not meant to be. There were too many distractions to deal with, too many problems and political games that he was ill suited for that distracted him all the time.
He glanced at the huge stack of parchment he had yet to go through – and that was just school related. He already went over one even larger that had to do with his position as a beast wrangler for the animals masking as Wizengamot members and he didn't even want to think about the ICW related paperwork...
Unfortunately, the ICW apparently thought about him, which was never a good thing. Albus groaned and got up from his comfortable plush chair – it was in a mood improving plump colour today. The alarm charm connected with one of the safes in the office demanded his attention. He got his want out and dismissed the security charms, made a large file cabinet move and then placed his left palm upon a certain brick that scanned both his blood and magical signature. When that was done, a row of bricks parted to reveal a metal cube that looked like it was melted into the wall. A long complicated chant later, the steel moved as if it was water to reveal various parchments and a few small devices.
Albus waved his wand again and the parchment he needed floated out. It was enchanted so only certain members of the ICW could read it – those directly responsible for the Wizarding world's security. He read the message and blanched.
"Another one?!" What did he do to deserve to see a third Dark Lord rise in his time?!
The Headmaster's eyes snapped to a certain shelf behind his desk where various devices monitored Harry Potter's state. As far as they were concerned, the boy was all right and the protections at his home were intact.
Good. Now, what to do... Should he call a few people from the old crowd to go monitor Harry just in case Tom was back or if this new Dark Lord wanted to make a name for himself by going after the child who vanquished his predecessor?
No. Harry was safe for now – no Dark Lord would find him in the Muggle world. Obscurity was a vital second layer of defence.
Albus retrieved a portkey from the safe, sealed it back up and called for an elf – he had to tell Minerva he was leaving the castle.