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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other fandom I manage to squeeze in this story.
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Lightning Dragon's Roar
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
By Zero Rewind
© 2015
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Chapter 47: Red Court (2)
It all basically happened in the span of a second.
I had met Wulfric's charge head on as I was getting back on my feet, and was expectedly thrown backwards from the force of the impact with the physically stronger Red Court vampire.
A flash of metal appeared above me, as Wulfric descended on my form, intending to finish me off with his scimitar.
The move seemed practiced, as if he'd done it plenty of times before and I was just number three hundred and two on the list.
But I was having none of that.
I waited until he was fully committed to the strike, so he couldn't wiggle his way out of what I had in store.
I twisted my body in mid-air, using my Lightning to propel me to the side, narrowly missing the rune engraved scimitar by millimeters.
I felt the displacement of air and the small chunks of stone impacting my side as Wulfric slammed into the ground, cracking it as his sword buried itself deep inside the stone.
The vampire was stuck, even a little dazed, as he slowly tried to pull his sword out.
Now was my chance!
I pointed my black scaled arm at the Red Court vampire, palm first. The hole in the middle opened up, and I doused Wulfric with Balthazar's acidic venom, before dropping into a roll, scraping my knee slightly.
Maybe a bruise, even.
The effect of my move was beyond devastating.
First came the sound of sizzling flesh, followed by a loud wail of agony, drowning out all of the background noise, forcing everyone to focus on us.
I got back up, dusting myself off, and turned to scrutinize the result of my surprise counter attack.
Wulfric was already down on his hands and knees, heaving, panting. His flesh mask was completely dissolved from the acid I'd sprayed him with, and there was no sign it was stopping there.
There was a steadily growing pool of blood below him. His rubbery gray skin looked like it was burned everywhere, with a multitude of small holes on his arms and face.
I swallowed down the bile making its way up my throat, the smell of dissolved flesh wafting over my nose.
Wulfric tried to stand, but fell back with another pain-filled scream, the various burn marks on his body treating him to an agony few people had ever experienced.
My acid had punched through his stomach in several spots, letting the blood Wulfric had consumed flow out, draining his strength even further.
I moved to the monstrous creature silently, and held the black Falchion to the side, gripping it with both hands and channeling my Lightning into it.
The blade pulsed threateningly, erupting with dark electric power. I stifled an eye roll— Erebus could be so melodramatic sometimes. Or maybe he was that excited to kill.
The vampire in question turned to stare at me, his black eyes meeting my own. His eyes widened in fear as he put up his arms.
It was a futile effort.
And then I swung. The Lightning enhanced Devil Arm sliced through the vampire's neck with ease, stopping his feeble resistance with ease as his head slid clean off his shoulders, rolling on the floor for a few seconds, before stopping.
Erebus vibrated in satisfaction.
I looked around, taking stock of the situation.
The rest of the cavern's occupants just stared at me.
The Death Eaters looked at me in utter shock, not believing that I, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, the Gryffindor Golden Boy, had just killed a creature— dark or not— in cold blood.
The Red Court vampires, on the other hand… They were staring at me in open fear, even the ones that had been throwing Death Eaters left and right.
I guessed that this Wulfric guy was quite a powerful vampire, and I had seemingly beaten him within a few short exchanges.
Aside from the scrape on my knee, a few growing bruises, and a general feel of tiredness that came from exerting myself for so long, I didn't even suffer that much damage.
Sigh.
The Lord of Outer Night sighed in what seemed to be micro-irritation.
Though, coming from a patient, ancient being, I might as well have been listening to it roar in anger.
I turned to look at it. The gigantic ancient vampire looked upon Wulfric's dead form, considering the corpse with a silent, significant gaze.
Was Wulfric important to it?
And then it turned to me, eyes blazing behind its Thestral mask.
That's when I felt the pressure, holding me in place. It was an enormous thing, coming at me from all sides. This felt like Voldemort's trick— no, Anne did it even better.
But even she would have to clear the way for the sheer power of this creature's mere gaze.
My mind was assaulted with images so horrific it would have made me take a few steps in sheer shock and horror— not that I could move right now.
Judging by the Death Eaters' frozen positions, I figured they were going through the same thing. Wait, not just them, even the other Red Court vampires were frozen in place.
A wide range, psychic attack, possibly?
The mind assault intensified, putting horrific image after image into my mind. I tried to ignore them, to move a muscle, to do something!
Anything!
Nothing happened. The images just kept coming, heedless of my mind's unwillingness to see them.
I saw glazed eyed toddlers being fed on by monstrous vampires, while their parents lay dead in the corner. Humans treated like cattle, led for the slaughter. Used like slaves, kept as pets, as food.
Centuries upon centuries upon centuries of abuse, of an utter disregard to their struggling prey.
Weak prey.
Men and women, over the millennia, standing defiantly before it. Refusing to bow, trying to save their fellow humans. But they all broke, eventually.
They struggled, of course.
It would expect nothing less. They all liked to speak about their indomitable spirits.
Their souls.
New images came, of the same men and women, in chains. Mutilated beyond recognition. Violated in both mind and body.
It enjoyed their futile struggling, knowing that such a thing was futile.
It was prey, it was weak.
I was weak. How could I beat such a creature?
It would just toss me aside like garbage, just like it did to countless others before me.
Weak.
Was there even a point?
I felt Erebus vibrate in my hand. It seemed more irritated than anything.
"What are you standing there, like an idiot for?" Erebus said.
I couldn't…
"Overrun with fear?" The Devil Arm seemed incredulous. "You, who had conquered fear? Did you already forget our battle?"
I, no… I didn't forget. But, so much happened, since then… I was powerless against so much of it. Mundus, the scientists. I—
"That's not you talking, boy." Erebus snarled, the sword's power rushing through my body. "Remember who you are."
Who I am?
More images flashed through my mind, but this time it wasn't senseless violence, needless suffering. I saw people.
They all stood in a group.
Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Dudley, even aunt Petunia. The whole Weasley family, standing to the side. Hagrid stood there, a few random creatures behind him. Hedwig was on his shoulder. Balthazar was on the other shoulder.
Dumbledore. My heart constricted at the sight of the old man's smiling face.
And then, right at the front, my parents. Just like in front of that mirror, all those years ago. They just smiled, as if they understood me completely, and accepted it with their unconditional love.
"I am Harry Potter." I whispered so low that I wasn't even sure I whispered anything at all.
Hours upon hours of practice with my wand. Trying to get different spells working. Learning about plants. Brewing potions. Exploring a wondrous, old, enchanted castle.
Flying on brooms, on carpets, in cars. Magical creatures of all kinds.
"I am a wizard." My voice got stronger.
Memories of speeding around, drilling through people and things with pure electric power, of tapping into the energy of an unending storm above me, bringing it down in a single, destructive strike.
Eating the electricity itself and using it as an energy source.
The power flared in my body, the bluish white Lightning filling up the cavern with its brilliant light. It lashed out at my surroundings, the power like a raging beast, a caged dragon waiting to be unleashed at its foes.
"I am the Lightning Dragonslayer!" My voice took on a stronger quality, and like that, the mind assault ended, shredded apart like paper in the cutting winds of a hurricane.
I regained my breath with a few controlled pants, before running to the circle of vampires surrounding the Lord of Outer Night.
"Impressive." The creature noted dispassionately. "Your ability to resist against my will is noteworthy, but ultimately an exercise in futility. Your magicks cannot stop the ritual without destroying the channeled energy's stability, resulting in the destruction of the city you are trying so hard to protect."
I didn't acknowledge the being's statement.
It was just trying to stall me.
It was true, that magic wasn't the answer in this situation.
But who said I needed to use magic?
I built up more and more speed, aiming to just tackle the being out of his position.
"Enough!" The Lord of Outer Night actually snarled, and moved his hand towards me disdainfully. I wasn't sure, but I could've sworn I heard an undercurrent of apprehension In the being's tone.
It was rushing things. That meant I was getting somewhere.
All three of the remaining vampires surrounding the Lord of Outer Night broke off of the circle, and rushed me as fast as they could, seemingly with no regard to their own well-being.
I stifled a curse as I leapt over the first one, kicking her in the back of the head and using that as a spring board, launching me at the second one, a furiously spinning drill of Lightning in my hand.
The move took the second vampire by surprise, and I thrust the Edge in the monster's stomach, fatally wounding the creature and taking away its energy source— the blood flowing freely to the ground.
The third vampire, wearing what seemed to be armor straight from the medieval days of Europe, was already swinging his large Claymore down, intending to finish me off quickly.
But I was too fast for such a move; I pulled my arm out of the dead vampire's chest, and pushed off to the side, avoiding the large sword with ease.
The sword ended up bisecting the already fatally wounded vampire, putting the wretched creature out of its misery.
The power being channeled into the ritual circle almost doubled in that instant.
Time was running out.
I channeled my Lightning into Erebus, and swung at the last vampire. He attempted to defend against me, but Erebus cut through his own sword like it was made of cardboard.
Very, very thick cardboard, but cardboard nonetheless; the dark blade then cut right through the vampire's armor, from his left shoulder plate down to his right him.
Blood sprayed out of tear in his armor— the blade must have cut through the vampire's stomach behind the armor, as well— splashing all over my face, forcing me to close my eyes with a grimace.
The smell was strong, clawing at my senses. I faintly heard the thud and slight jingle of metal hitting ground as I wiped the blood off of my face to regain my sight.
That was my mistake. I felt the rush of air, and was about to turn to deal with the first vampire I had dealt with, but it was too late.
Flesh smacked at the side of my neck— hard. I saw a flash of the vampire's face— overjoyed and predatory— before the dizziness and sudden flare of pain hit me with the force of a fat wrestler dropping from a five story building on a small dog.
I lost control of my motor functions, falling on my back as the world spun around me.
She took a step forward, amused at the pain I felt.
I snarled— but a pained wheeze came out— and tried to swing Erebus with all the strength I could muster. Except she knelt and caught my sword hand as if she was dealing with a toddler, before slowly forcing it back down on the ground.
The vampire had the gall to "tsk".
"Let's get you a little more cooperative, shall we?" She said, before driving her fist right into my forearm, the bone snapping from the sheer force of her blow.
People like to brag about that they can grit their teeth through any pain; that they can suffer silently. They think it's something cool to do.
Worse yet, they think it's easy.
Let me tell you something.
I don't care who you are, or what you claim you've done. If someone breaks your arm and hits your neck with a karate chop, you're going to feel it.
I didn't even know I was screaming my throat raw until the vampire put her hand over my mouth, muffling the sound. She forced my head, down, and a new dose of pain erupted from my neck.
I lost full control of my power, the Lightning no longer supercharging my body. It was out of reach now, leaving me feeling exhausted, and the pain in my forearm and neck was upgraded to agony.
"You see? As I predicted, your efforts were ultimately futile. I had promised you that your end would be quick and painless, had you not resisted." The Lord of Outer Night reminded me, and I weakly turned my head to it.
It was a few meters away from me, staring down at my form in amusement.
I was so close to ending it, but I couldn't move anymore.
"How may I serve you further, my Lord?" The vampire almost purred in pleasure.
"Rid us of this insect." It ordered, before focusing on its task of enacting the ritual. The pressure around it increased even further, if that was even possible. It began speaking in guttural tones that Erebus managed to translate for me.
"—Eradicate—sons and daughters of the wise— It's not a language I'm well versed in." Erebus supplied.
I got the gist of it.
"With pleasure. So long, little wizard." The vampire said, harshly trailing a claw-tipped finger over the right side of my face, enjoying my spasms of pain.
I could do nothing but feebly attempt to pry her off of me, as a warm rivulet of blood coursed trickled under my chin, then my neck, finally pooling on my shirt.
The vampire raised her right hand, ready to finish me off, and went straight for my throat.
Three things happened, then.
One, blood and brain matter flew out of the side of the vampire's head, before she slumped forward, slowly leaking blood on my chest, staining my shirt even further than it already had been.
Two, the Lord of Outer Night was flung away like a ragdoll, flying back until it smashed into a wall fifty feed behind it.
In its place, Clark stood, rigid and defiant.
Three, the sound of fighting came back, judging by the war cries of the Death Eaters and the snarls of the Red Court vampires they had been fighting previously.
The dead vampire was levitated off of my chest, before being banished to the side.
I felt hands help me up, but there was no one there.
It was obvious as to who it was, though.
"Her—Hermione." I managed to get out, feeling weak, dizzy, and in pain. I tried to lift Erebus, but the pain in my left arm was too great. The fire on my neck was nothing to slouch at, either.
Oh god, it hurt.
I took the dark blade with my right hand, and used it as a crutch to get up, despite Erebus' vehement protests at being used like a cane.
Tough luck.
I grabbed at whatever shred of power I could muster, and directed it outward, latching onto the ground below me.
The link between the ritual circle and the Lord of Outer Night was broken.
I could feel the massive energy flooding back into the earth, being spread out deep into the ground.
It was still raw, and wild, but it was also useless, now. They couldn't use it any longer.
The vampires had failed.
Their spell was stopped in the nick of time.
We had won. London was safe.
"YOU DARE LAY A HAND ON ME? Impudent prey!" The ancient being boomed in rage, slowly dusting itself off.
Oh, right. There was still that little problem.
"Harry—" Hermione started, her voice coming from behind me. "What are Death Eaters doing here?"
"I called them here." I struggled to say.
"You what?" I winced at the tone of her voice.
"I didn't see much choice, Hermione." I replied tiredly, wobbling slightly. She kept me up on my feet. My neck flared in pain again.
"The vampires were enacting a ritual to kill all the wizards in London. So I did the first thing that came to mind: called them by invoking the Taboo." I panted as I explained the situation.
"I… see." She said after a long wait.
"I'm sorry." I said automatically.
"I—" She stopped herself, probably agitated at my words. "It's fine. It was the logical thing to do."
"…I'm still sorry." I said it again, my right arm shaking with the effort needed to stay up. "I know that you—"
"Harry." She cut me off harshly, angrily. "Let it go."
So, I did. I was too exhausted to even bother, right now, anyway.
I turned my attention back to Clark, who was patiently watching the Lord of Outer Night move up to him.
It came within meters of him, and stared him down behind its wicked Thestral mask.
Clark didn't back up a single inch.
I felt a shift in the pressure around us as the monstrous being directed all of its— let's call it presence— at Clark.
"Kneel, scum." The psychic backlash was so powerful I felt my whole body shaking from my position, wanting to kneel at this being's feet. Why hadn't it used this on me, before?
"Likely, the Lord of Outer Night was occupied with channeling the great energies required for the ritual to take place." Erebus reasoned as I tried to get ahold of myself.
Hermione didn't make a single noise, likely as affected by his mental assault as I was.
"You're saying it was toying with me the whole time?" I said incredulously, paying attention to Clark again.
He still hadn't moved a single muscle. I couldn't see his face.
I felt my stomach churning in worry. Was he paralyzed by the ancient being's power?
"Yes. You are even weaker than the one before you." It moved its hand to smack Clark out of the way. "Die."
"Clark, run!" I shouted, and took a step forward, the motion shooting a lance of debilitating agony through my left arm.
I lost my balance and fell forward, managing to remain on my knees by driving Erebus into the ground and using him as a support.
I got to see what happened next.
The large, open hand went down on the man of steel, and I felt the vibration from the being's strength all the way from here.
Then the hand impacted Clark, and I felt the shockwave from the strike, forcing me to shut my eyes.
That would've killed me ten times over if it hit, and Clark took it head on.
I opened my eyes, hoping against hope that Clark was all right.
The older man was still in the same spot, his left hand grasping the Lord of Outer Night's arm and holding it in place, despite the being's attempts to force its arm out of his grasp.
Clark had caught the being's blow with ease.
I gaped.
What the hell was he made of?
Then, in a fluid motion, Clark pulled the powerful being forward, and ruthlessly drove his fist into the ancient god-ling's stomach.
I heard a loud, slimy squelch, the sound of flesh being penetrated, followed by the Lord of Outer Night's pained grunt.
"How is this—" The ancient vampire was cut off as Clark mercilessly took his arm out of the being's midsection, its stomach emptying itself of blood like a punctured balloon would: a strong stream of liquid, which gradually dwindled down into a trickle, and then nothingness.
The Lord of Outer Night fell onto its knees, still as tall as Clark was. I couldn't see its face, but I bet it was giving him a fearful look. "Who are you?"
Clark answered by smashing the heel of his palm on the side of its face, sending it to the floor with a loud crack, shaking the ground with the force of its impact.
A few moments passed, the only sound reaching our ears being the Death Eaters killing off the remaining Red Court vampires.
The Lord of Outer Night didn't get up again.
Hell, it didn't even twitch.
Clark had just killed a Lord of Outer Night.
How?
§What the hell?§ Balthazar hissed out incredulously. §But they're— they're gods! This is impossible!§
"Well put, snake. To think that this individual greatly outclasses the gods themselves in strength…" Erebus vibrated against my palm, a flash of awe in the Devil's words.
I gave no indication I even heard Erebus' words, though my mind was reeling with the implications.
Anyone Clark was allied with would utterly demolish the competition. What if Queen Mab had snared him during our trip to London?
I blinked.
When my eyes opened again, Clark stood before me, the displacement of air soothing my skin slightly. For a moment, I was taken aback at the sight.
During the short time I had known him, he always seemed mild mannered. Staring at him now…
He stood tall, and looked mighty. I could see the greatness that he could become.
Then, my mind caught up with me.
Clark had killed.
"Clark!" I exclaimed. "You—"
"Yeah." The man of steel said in a somber tone. "I killed it."
"I don't understand. You don't…"
"The things it made me see." Clark said in a disturbed tone of voice. "I… I—"
And I understood.
I simply understood.
"It's okay. It's fine, Clark." I cut him off, noticing the Death Eaters finishing off the remaining vampires. It wouldn't be long until they turned on us, Voldemort's orders or not. "Let's just get out of here, okay? I don't think I can stay awake for much longer."
Clark looked at me intently, worriedly.
I smirked, quickly losing hold of myself.
"Thought I told you—" The dizziness intensified as I struggled to remain on my knees. "Don't x-ray me, asshole."
I fell forward, distantly hearing the two's cries of worry as everything went black.