Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Harry Potter

October 30th, 2017

Harry was sandwiched between two hard faced War Wizards, their wands not quite pointed at him, but still drawn. They had returned his holly wand to him, but Harry understood the unsubtle threat: He was still a prisoner.

It wasn't all bad. He was escorted to a barracks where he could rest and eat, as well as given permission to send a Patronus to Ginny to let her know he was alright, but would be out of sight for a while. Ginny's horse Patronus appeared soon afterward, asking him to be safe and that she'll be with their family at Hogwarts. Harry couldn't describe the relief that flowed through him, as quickly fell asleep.

After a few hours of rest he was rudely awoken, thrown clean robes, and dragged to meet the platoon of War Wizards he would accompany to Canada. Their attack would begin after dusk, allowing the wizards the cover of darkness, and Harry's role was explained to him in excruciating detail.

"You're going to stay out of our way and observe," an angry wizard said. He was the group's commander. "If you run off and die, it'll mean paperwork for me, so don't do that. Jason, Olivia! You're on idiot sitting duty!"

The two War Wizards moved over, glaring at Harry as if it were his fault they wouldn't be part of the main attack. He ignored them and joined the next Portkey group. His new shadows joined him, and a moment later they were swirling through the air, bumping shoulders, and on their way to battle.

A moment later Harry's feet touched the ground, and his two shadows seized his shoulders, pulling him away and behind a nearby tree for cover. In the distance the setting sun had already vanished beneath the horizon, and the world only had a few more minutes of light before night fell. It was almost time.

Harry watched as squad after squad of War Wizards appeared, vanishing into the forest all around them. The angry commander finally appeared, giving Harry a dark, dismissive look, and turned away, walking off into the trees. Harry's guards pushed him along, keeping him between the two of them.

Here and there through the trees Harry could see the other War Wizards. Their attention was focused north, and although nothing could be seen through the trees, Harry didn't doubt that Mikael's werewolf camp was in that direction. A heavy hand gripped his shoulder, pulling Harry to a stop. Jason jerked his head to a nearby boulder, and Harry made his way there.

Even after night fell, the group waited. Harry considered casting a Warming Charm on himself, but before his fingers could so much as twitch into the direction of his wand, he found Olivia's wand at his throat; the witch eyeing him carefully. Harry moved his hand away, and settled in, preparing himself mentally for a chilly night in Canada.

With no noticeable sign, the War Wizards within Harry's line of sight suddenly rose, moving forward as a dark mass. Harry scrambled to join them, his shadows silently following, and he wondered why he was even here. It wasn't to be part of the attack, his shadows ensured as much. What was Flamel's aim?

Susan Bones' face flashed through Harry's mind. What had she seen that had caused her death? Was Harry about to find out? Unease filled his belly, and guilt clouded his mind. But before it could grow too much, there was a shout of panic from far ahead, followed by a brilliant blast of fire. The War Wizards charged forward, screaming spells.

Harry was pushed forward after the advancing fighters, and flashes of spell fire could be seen, and screams of terror heard. Suddenly, they broke through the treeline, and Harry found himself standing outside of a village built in the middle of the woods. Were it not for the werewolves casting spells, Harry would have thought Muggles lived here, on account of the cars and exposed electrical wiring.

The platoon of War Wizards descended with a fury upon the werewolves, cutting down anyone who raised a wand, hand, or fang against them. One werewolf transformed, lunging forward to rip a wizard in half, but was blasted apart by three War Wizards, spraying a small child with blood. The child screamed.

Harry stepped forward, to help or stop the violence, he didn't know, but he froze when he felt a wand pushed into his neck. "What's the matter, Potter? Do you feel for these beasts?" Olivia spat.

He wisely remained silent, forced to watch as they took the werewolves prisoner, and the wizards tore apart their homes to search for survivors. They forced groups of werewolves at wand point to move, as the War Wizards separated the adults from the children. And then the War Wizards began tying up the children.

"What's happening?" Harry asked, stepping forward. Olivia's wand followed him, poking him roughly to remind him of its presence. But to his surprise, she wasn't the one to answer.

"They're being taken prisoner, Potter, I would have thought that was obvious," Zhen's voice said. She stepped into his field of view, taking his wand along the way, and gave him a dark grin. "Did you miss me?"

Harry glared at her. "No. What's to happen to their parents? Their families?" he asked. When Zhen said nothing, merely grinned, and Harry realized what would happen a moment before it did.

No sooner were the children Portkeyed away did the War Wizards raise their wands. The harsh green light of the Killing Curse flew from them, executing the captured werewolves without mercy. Bodies fell by the dozens, and those few werewolves who realized the danger they were in could barely rise before they too were killed. Within less than a minute, no living werewolves remained.

Harry was so horrified he almost missed Zhen ordering the two War Wizards away. He definitely did not miss how Zhen moved closer, a dark grin on her face as she placed one tiny, delicate hand on his arm, holding him in place with a steel like grip.

"The High Chancellor has requested your presence, Harry Potter. I'm sure it'll be very illuminating."

Before Harry could reply, a Portkey activated. As the hook like feeling grabbed his navel, Harry could only feel dread at the demise of the werewolves. As well as fear as to what would happen to their children. He had a feeling he would find out what Susan Bones had discovered, and that he would not like it one bit.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

United Nations

October 30th, 2017

The U.N. Chambers was filled with chaos. Dignitaries and leaders from all over the world were clamoring to be heard, shouting over one another with abandon. They were united, truly united, for the first time in their history, and it was against a common foe.

It had not helped that a scientific paper had been published recently, revealing that magical genes bred true. Humanity was fighting an invasive species, arguably their next step in evolution, and many were distraught to find themselves on the wrong side of the dividing line. They gained an ill-conceived notion that they must do something to protect their species. Which was why they were here today.

The delegates from Russia and the United States of America were the driving force behind the meeting today, demanding blood for the slaughter of their leaders, and the deaths of many good men. They were willfully ignorant of the atrocities their countries committed on magicals, choosing only to see them as resources that must either be used, or denied. And the wizards would not be used by mere muggles.

For the duration of the "Magic crisis", the Security Council had seized control of the United Nation's forces, taking command of the body so actions could be taken without the red tape. The fifteen men and women making up the council had been arguing for weeks over their course of actions, and had only recently narrowed down their choices, presenting it to the remaining member nations.

Marcus Wright was the current Secretary-General of the United Nations, a Canadian man who was well known for his quick temper. He was unimpressed with the bickering fools before him and gave a sharp nod to one of the U.N. Peacekeepers who was standing nearby. The man immediately raised his rifle and fired into the air, damaging the ceiling, and causing debris to fall on the now silent dignitaries.

"You are ambassadors and world leaders, yet you bicker like children," Marcus sneered. Only a few of the crowd had the humility to look away sheepishly. "Return to your seat so we can vote on the options the Security Council has presented."

Many of the men and women in the chamber seated themselves, but one, the ambassador from Germany, did not. "Your options are barbaric! Germany will not be a part of another genocide!" she protested. There was a smattering of applause.

Marcus eyed them carefully, before nodding to the Peacekeeper from before. Immediately, a dozen soldiers pushed their way through the crowds and grabbed the German ambassador, and the men and women who had applauded her. They were dragged from the room despite their protests, but Marcus ignored them, as he focused on those who remained.

"They'll be held for the duration of this crisis, and once it is over, they'll be tried by a court of their peers. We are not barbarians," Marcus sneered, "but we are fighting them! Every day, fresh horrors surface, of wizards stalking our women, violating them, and wiping away their memories so they cannot recall the event!"

He slammed the podium before him. "We apprehended two witches who were killing our law enforcement for sport, cackling as they killed them! There are thousands of events like these that happen every day and we will allow it no longer! We have three options before us, and we must choose before it is too late!"

Marcus drew in a deep breath before letting it out. "The first is that we do nothing. The wizards will slowly kill us, violating what it means to be human, based on their whims. I think we can all agree that we find that repulsive."

"Or we can try to sue for peace with a government that already shows it cares nothing for our citizens. That has no respect for our history, cultures, or freedoms!" Marcus roared. Angry mutters filled the chamber, but he continued.

"Finally, we can fight, forcing these wizards to acknowledge our right for self-governance, our freedoms! We will strike such a terrible blow that they will never bother us again!" Marcus finished to a chamber filled with applause.

"Down with the wizards!"

"Kill them!"

"Burn the witches!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The chamber filled with the shouts of angry men, furious women, and Marcus almost smiled. He raised his hands to settle them, and silence fell over the crowd. "We shall vote so none may deny that we are not civilized beings!" he said, not bothering to acknowledge the implied barbarity of their proposal.

The vote was quickly collected and tallied. While a handful of countries abstained, the majority was clear: they would have war with the magicals.

"Send word to your militaries!" Marcus roared. "For tomorrow we will strike a blow that will ripple across their world, telling them why our technology is to be feared! Their magic cannot stop humanity!"

Marcus exited the chambers to a standing ovation, the other members of the Security Council close behind. None said a word until they were in their private chambers, and only then did Marcus speak.

"Is everything ready, M?" he asked.

The agent from MI6 walked out of the shadows, his eyes sunken, but sharp. "Yes, sir. I've passed along all the necessary information through my personal contacts so there's no risk of subversion. The wizards won't know what hit them."

Marcus cracked a smile. "Nuclear bombs have that effect on people. Do the wizards suspect anything?"

M shook his head. "No, sir. The lads down in R&D did an excellent job with these blockers," he said, touching the bluetooth headset on his ear. "A shipment will arrive tomorrow for yourself."

"Good, good," Marcus said. "Are our projected losses still the same?"

"Down to approximately one hundred million, sir. Unfortunately, we cannot evacuate the densely populated cities without alerting the wizards that something is up. We've found some new ways to handle the fallout though, so our chief concern will mainly be the initial blasts, as well as the following panic," M explained. Marcus hummed.

"Thank you. You can go now," he ordered. M silently left the room. Marcus smiled at the other members of the Security Council. "To a world without magic!"

"To a world without magic!" they echoed.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander Dantes

Five Years Ago

The outer shell of the Acropolis was complete. A mountain rose from the ocean, rounded like an egg and much wider at the base than its solitary peak. It was an impressive monolith built by mortal hands, and it was the tallest, widest, and heaviest structure ever built on Earth. It had only been possible with magic.

In the settlement the hundreds of thousands Lycans were gathering in groups, passing along food and drinks and cheer. For some this had been the labors of a decade, others only a few weeks, but all celebrated the completion of the place that would protect them from the dangers of the world.

Only two people were missing from these festivities. Alexander Dantes stood on the balcony of his home, holding the hand of his wife, Daphne Dantes, as they stared up at the Acropolis' peak. He caressed her hand with his thumb gently.

"I can't change your mind?" she quietly asked. Alexander pulled Daphne close, wrapping his arms around her.

"This must be done. It is already dangerous enough for one person. Having you there would be an unnecessary risk," Alexander explained. Daphne reached up to cup his face, pulling him face down so she could kiss him.

"Then come back to me, Alex," Daphne whispered. They stepped apart and while Daphne stayed safely on the balcony of their home, Alexander fell over the cliffs to the ocean below.

He never hit it, of course. His magic, which had always been his trusted ally, flared powerfully, catching him, and allowing him to fly. Alexander skimmed the waves almost carelessly as he flew toward the Acropolis.

Underneath the mountain of stone were dozens of thick pillars, each as thick as a city block. They weathered the harsh waters with ease, unyielding to the elements, a trait stemming from the magical scaffolding that still held them in place, still held the entire structure in place. Once Alexander performed the next step, they would no longer be necessary, and they would fall away, their magic spent.

Alexander wove between those pillars before reaching the center of the Acropolis, rising in the hole that was left there. Almost three hundred meters wide, this hole was the only way to enter or exit the Acropolis from below, and an enormous metal door was planned to further secure it. He rose.

A ramp rose from the flat ground, and began to wind up the outer shell of the Acropolis, forming dozens of levels. Each was three meters thick, sturdy enough to hold a horde of giants on them, and far enough apart for said beasts to stand without issue. Canals and dry riverbeds crosscut the ramp, but were empty of water due to the next step that Alexander was here to do himself. He rose further.

Every few levels an exit through the out shell revealed itself, showing a brief glimpse of the outside world. In the future, Alexander intended for guards to man each, protected by fortified gates, and their outer entrances concealed by magic and camouflage. No one would come into his home unchallenged.

Alexander kept rising, and it was two-and-a-half kilometers above sea level that the levels began to shrink, coming closer to Alexander. Few of these levels were planned for inhabitation, and they would largely serve as an artificial reservoir for the Acropolis' water supply. While runes could conjure and summon water, Alexander was unwilling to rely on them always working, and sought a permanent supply.

Finally, at almost three kilometers of height gained, Alexander found his flight halted by stone. While most would believe this to be the highest point of the Acropolis, Alexander knew better, and flew to a nearby wall, landing on a ledge that could only be reached by flight. He walked along a dark hallway, his enhanced senses allowing him to see as though it was a sunny day, and climbed a set of steep sets.

Alexander stood in an enormous room, at the very peak of the mountain. The room was a perfect sphere, not that it was immediately apparent, as it was half full with a sea of blood. It belonged to Alexander, added to every day for over a decade, and he took to the air once more to hover over it.

Ever since he had implanted a Philosopher's Stone in his chest, Alexander had been monitoring the effects. The Elixir of Life constantly healed and strengthened him, but the excess quantity of Elixir was virtually wasted on that, as he only had to partake of a cup of it once a month to maintain the full effects. But Alexander could use it for something else.

Alexander had theorized for years, even since he was at Hogwarts, that there was a Greater Stone, a Philosopher's Stone that could renew itself indefinitely. It would not shrink no matter how he used it, enabling him to perform feats of magic on the level of Merlin's mythos, if not further. Years of studying, blood-letting, and patience had led to this moment.

Through careful study, Alexander had rediscovered the method Nicolas Flamel had used to harvest the Latin runic alphabet to create the first Philosopher's Stone, and had reverse engineered it. It was what enabled him to create the runic language that was used on the Riddle Coins over a decade ago, sacrificing a volleyball chunk of stone to empower it. Alexander would use a similar ritual tonight to make the Greater Stone.

He floated above the sea of blood, thousands of gallons preserved over the years. The Elixir of Life was mixed into it heavily, giving the blood an impossible shine that was not natural. Alexander raised his hands and focused.

No words would or could be used for this ritual, as it relied on the force of will and power of imagination. An esoteric concept to grasp in the first place, it was why Alexander's first attempt relied on the Klingon alphabet to form the base runes. But he was far more experienced now, and he closed his eyes to focus.

To create a rune, you had to hold the shape of it in your mind, while pushing your magic into spilled blood. If you chanted or spoke any words, the magic would attach to them, linking the three as one. Usually these alphabets were built up over time, as human sacrifices or wars created them, but Alexander created his first runic language in an afternoon.

But to create a Philosopher's Stone from a runic language, you needed to break the links between the words, runes, and magic, and force the magic into a new, unified form. This was why, despite the fact Nicolas Flamel erased the Latin runic alphabet's connection with magic, the spoken word was still bound. He had reshaped the language as a whole into the Philosopher's Stone, while accidentally preserving the spells.

Alexander was attempting to skip a step in the process by not first forcing the blood into runes, which would then be harvested into a new stone. While he was not averse to it, he was hoping to test his soon to be creation by seeing if it could sustain itself, creating a new runic language without sacrificing any mass or power.

Which was why he was focusing. He could feel his blood below him, his magic lingering on it even after years. The Elixir of Life was like oil mixed in, staying separate no matter the quantity of either liquid. Alexander's goal was to combine the two.

If Alexander's eyes were open, he would have seen how his blood flexed beneath him, rising in pillars and waves that radiated outward. Drops lingered in the air, defying gravity as they orbited him, caught in a pull that could not be denied. Yet the blood never went far from him, always pulling back and adding to the masses that orbited and flowed around him.

Magically, it was much more difficult for Alexander to explain. It was as though he was an ocean, trying to direct his body through a series of small pipes that twisted upon one another to form a maze. And he was the pipes as well, trying to contain the might of an ocean within a compact space. Slowly he exerted his will over it, tying the two feelings into one another, building in increasing waves.

It could have been seconds, hours, or years and Alexander would not have been able to tell. There was a pressure on his mind and magic, as though the universe waited with bated breath. And Alexander knew exactly what moment the universe, and he, was waiting for.

The ocean suddenly twisted in on itself, surging through pipes with ruthless precision. The pipes became ordered and unbreakable, turning aside the strength of an ocean without flinching. The two feelings pulled Alexander along, deeper into himself, down and down until he felt like he had shrunk himself to the size of an atom. And then the universe exploded.

Alexander groaned from his new position on the floor of the empty chamber, every drop of blood and Elixir of Life gone. He was missing both arms and a leg; it felt as though something had ripped them from him with no resistance. Slowly his Lycan regeneration healed him, regrowing those limbs, and told him the pain in his chest needed attention.

He rolled over and looked down with one eye, the other painfully reforming after it had been torn from his skull. On the ground where his chest had been was a glowing stone, the size of an apple, and Alexander groaned as his chest painfully healed the broken bones there. Had he hit the ground a little harder, he would have killed himself, regeneration or not.

As his missing teeth regrew, Alexander examined the Greater Stone. A Philosopher's Stone was a simple dark red crystal, not unlike obsidian, but this new stone shone like a diamond filled with rainbows. Every known color shimmered through its body, and Alexander could see how it was perfectly round. He laid a newly regrown hand on it and nearly screamed as magic surged through his body.

Not even a Crucio could rival the pain Alexander now felt, originating from the small stone in his hands. He gritted his teeth and focused, willing himself to push past the pain so he could perform the next part of his plan. With a muffled yell, Alexander raised the stone above his head before slamming it into the ground beneath him, forcing his intent forward.

The world went white.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The party was in full swing and every Lycan was having a fantastic time. Food, drinks, and music were everywhere as everyone celebrated a job well done. Which was exactly why none of them were prepared for a miniature sun forming in the middle of the night, and half-blinding them.

Confused and concerned, the Lycans turns toward the Acropolis and their jaws dropped. The peak shone brightly with a light that could not have been natural, throwing off reds, greens, and blues that could only have been caused by magic. And then it intensified.

The Lycans did not need to shade their eyes from the blinding light, as their enhanced senses and regeneration ignored it with ease. They could see how the Acropolis slowly changed, turning dull stone into a bright, shining crystal. It moved downward, converting the dull appearance of the Acropolis as it went, and if they were close enough to the cliffs, they could see how this new material seemed to burn from within.

After only a few minutes the light reached the ocean, and the waters hissed as magical energy bled off into it. The pillars turned into crystal as well, all the way down to the ocean floor, where it spread to the stones laid there long ago. And then, just as suddenly as it started, the blinding light vanished.

The Acropolis still gleamed in the moonlight, shining in such a way that was unnatural. But no longer was it a mountain of dull stone, encased in magical scaffolding, it was a mountain of crystal, standing under its own power. None of the Lycans below knew that this crystal was a thousand times harder than any previously known substance, able to withstand impossible forces with no ill effects. Only a few at first realized that the sedimentary rocks they had been digging from the sea floor were transmuted into something more. But the whispers began to spread.

"Behold!" Daphne's voice echoed over the settlement. "The reforged Acropolis! Behold our new home, built by our hands and hardened to withstand our foes! Celebrate tonight my friends, and sleep well until dawn, for with the dawn of the new day we will finally be able to claim our new home!"

Cheers rose from the gathered Lycans and the music started once more as the realization of their accomplishments sunk in. They had helped create a modern marvel, something that would withstand the tests of time, civilization, and even possibly themselves. Even if they met their ends, their accomplishment would live on, inspiring future generations until the very demise of their species.

Only one among them felt worry. Daphne looked toward the peak of the Acropolis with concern, toward where she knew Alexander to be. They had set plans in motion years ago, and soon would come a time for them to move into the endgame.

She only hoped they survived.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Again, this story WILL BE FINISHED. But a sequel to it will be a long ways off. I'm very grateful to everyone who had enjoyed the story so far! You guys rock.

Adding troll to the Lycan serum: Trolls are canonically dumb enough that a first year (Ron Weasley of all people) can stop it. Even if they did somehow posses magic resistance superior to a giant's, their handicapped intelligence and revolting smell would make the attribute very undesireable to Alexander and the other Lycans. To be honest, I forgot all about trolls because they're just that worthless of a magical creature. Hope that clears things up.

Curbing the ruthlessness: Why would Alexander want to? Even before the Elixir of Life he was quite willing to kill to achieve his goals, using quite inventive means of retribution if I say so myself. He doesn't view ruthlessness as a negative attribute, but he does understand the necessity of discipline over it to control/focus it. The pack nature of Lycans actually helps in this regard, encouraging everyone to act for the benefit of the pack. Hopefully you guys can understand why that's important over the next few chapters.

Future crossovers: As much as I would love to write them, they'll have to wait a while. Even then, they won't be long stories, most likely just chapters as Alexander and his Lycans move from universe to universe. As for Mass Effect, if I ever did write the crossover, the Lycans first contact would not be with the Turians. But I'll hold onto that secret for now. :)

Harry: I know it seems a little weird that Flamel so easily agreed to Harry going with the War Wizards to Canada, and that Harry is just going along with it. Harry understands he's still a prisoner, even if he can move around "freely". He's an unwilling servant if that makes sense, and Flamel's using him because Harry is the Boy-who-lived/Man-who-won/whatever. That's a very powerful symbol to have attached to your government, and according to Zhen, Harry is more concerned with the safety of his family, and then the wizarding world.

Muggle response: It's so boring writing politics. Shout out to my fictional German delegate who is against her country being party to a second genocide. Marcus is an OC, and not based on any real political figure (Although, I've got my eye on you Canada. You and your moose. Meese. Mooses. Meeses?)

M: A bluetooth headset that can overcome an Imperius Curse. That's some damn impressive technology there. I wonder what information he passed along?

Acropolis: I hope the description in this chapter helped. It's still a massive, mostly empty mountain. Alexander used alchemy to turn the sedimentary rock (which has some of the densest sources of carbon on the planet), into a substance harder than anything on Earth, natural or man made. The next chapter will show how the Lycans change the structure into a proper home for them.

Alexander: Pain is something he barely notices these days, which was why I wanted to show him actually screaming when he touched such a pure source of magic like the Greater Stone. There's no real way to prepare for that after all, as you're touching a physical embodiment of magic(and don't forget magic makes a soul). BUT WAIT. Does that mean the Greater Stone Alexander made is essentially a Horcrux? Guess you'll see...

Greater Stone: Sorry guys, spoilers.

I hope you're all enjoying the story! The NEXT UPDATE will be in THREE DAYS!