A/N: Two things: 1) I don't like this chapter. I don't. It feels...almost forced to me, but I tried to make it as bearable as possible; 2) Maybe two-three chapters left. Three if the fight is two long (which would take two chapters--unlikely), two if it isn't. In either event, an epilogue should be expected.
Nature is a funny thing.
Completely chaotic, and at the same time the very pinnacle of order, it is an ongoing paradox that humanity seems incapable of either taming completely or understanding, no matter how much we try. Every single time we figure we have catalogued everything, something new always shows up to disprove these claims.
However, nature also self-regulates, by making sure that the evolutionary process is slow and gradual. It ensures that humanity will not, overnight, go into an overdrive of evolutionary mutation and eventually thus become an unstoppable force of rampant destruction.
Occasionally, however, there are people who are willing to go against nature. To defy the very forces that governs the Earth and force humanity forward. These people are typically seen as either heroes, or villains.
And, as he took a break from operating on Albus Dumbledore, Bill wondered which one he was.
Since he could not smoke inside the operating room, he had excused himself, appointed another doctor to replace him, and had gone to the observation room, on the other side of the viewing window. To his relief, it was almost empty, as most of the old man's colleagues did not wish to witness the procedure as it happened—disgusted as they already were with what Bill and his team were doing to him.
Ironic, really, considering that it was Dumbledore who had asked for the procedure.
That wasn't to say that it was completely devoid of occupants, one of which was glaring holes into him and the other was trying to assuage the first's temper.
Ah, the joys of hosting Mr. and Mrs. Ronald and Hermione Weasley.
Bill was a patient man, however. He had dealt with bureaucrats before, after all, and those people had the whole "glare you into dust" look down to an art. If the Civil Service couldn't make Bill sweat, he wasn't about to bend over his brother's comparatively mousy glare.
"You going to just stare all day, little brother, or are you going to say something?" he eventually asked, mildly curious as to what rant his brother would use. Would it be the "you've betrayed your family" speech? Or maybe the "how could you do this to us" speech? Ooooh, what if it was the "you've gone against the laws of nature" vitriol? Nah…maybe Hermione would give that one, but not Ron. Ron hadn't the foggiest clue about biology. For all he knew, Bill and his team were simply giving Dumbledore a haircut.
From the looks of it, Ron was about to take him up on that offer, but Hermione was quick to silence him with a stern glare, robbing Bill of the joy of tearing apart his youngest brother's arguments. Instead, he was met with the half-curious, half-worried expression of Hermione Weasley, née Granger.
"Yes?" he asked pleasantly, his smoking cigarette still stuck between his left middle and index fingers.
"If I asked you how the process works," she said, motioning towards the two-way observation glass, "will you give me an honest explanation, or just dodge it with excuses about secrecy?"
Bill raised an eyebrow. In all honesty, he hadn't considered that Hermione would tacitly approve of the process. Of course, she hadn't exactly said so, but the fact that she wasn't openly railing against him for violating the laws of natural evolution said a lot about the girl. Most of which, in his opinion, was good.
"I might be convinced," he answered noncommittally. "Why?"
Hermione gave him a stern look. "Because whatever our differences have been, recently, he was nonetheless my mentor for over five years. He's a dear friend, and if he wants to go through something that will kill him, I want to know how it works so that I can help him through it."
Bill's outward expression was one of casual disinterest, but internally, he was admiring the younger woman before him. Not even bothering to argue with the morality of his project, nor with the fact that he was sentencing a living icon to a premature death, she was instead asking for details of the operation merely for compassionate reasons. While he himself had distanced himself from such thinking long ago, he couldn't help but admire it in others.
With a slow nod, he gave his response. "Very well. What do you want to know?"
Hermione actually seemed surprised to hear a positive answer from him, but didn't let that ruin her momentum. "What is Project Valkyrie?" she asked.
Bill kept a blank look on his face and merely raised his left arm, his cigarette stuck between his lips as he used his other hand to pull back his coat's sleeve until his forearm was completely within view. With a small hand sign, he watched Hermione and Ron's stunned expressions as blue lines suddenly started glowing faintly all over his forearm, racing from the tips of his fingers all the way into his lab coat. "This is Project Valkyrie," he answered.
"How does it work?" Hermione pressed, recovering from her shock at the display.
Bill chuckled. "That's a bit like asking 'why are we here?'" he told her humorously. "But I gather you want to know what we're doing to him specifically, and how it's going to work."
She nodded.
Bill took a drag from his cigarette and nodded. "Very well," he stated, before diving into the fine details of Project Valkyrie. "As you know, Harry is currently the only known Venati-Human hybrid in existence, if not the only hybrid of any sort throughout the entire multiverse, from what we understand," he explained. "However, that didn't mean that we weren't curious as to whether the process could be repeated in the general population. After all, what better way to fight the Venati than with their own natural weapons? Unfortunately, however, that was not to be, as the entire first batch of volunteers died almost immediately in the process."
Ignoring the horrified looks on both Ron and Hermione's faces, he ploughed on. "So we immediately scrapped the plan to use the Venati DNA by itself," he went on. "Instead, we began to toy with the idea of implementing artificial constructs within the human body that would regulate the parasitic potential of the Venati DNA, without the detrimental effects that direct grafting would cause. By doing so, we hit a major breakthrough. We found that, with the use of specifically designed mechanical rods implanted into the epidermis to artificially regulate the spread and detrimental effects of the foreign DNA, we could use the Venati DNA's adaptive processes to give magic users a massive boost to their magical efficiency."
"Magical efficiency?" Hermione interrupted, curious. Bill nodded.
"You understand what a wand is for, right? Why mages need one?" He smiled as she nodded, though was less pleased when his brother seemed confused. "It's a tool for focus, Ron. The average human body is incapable of harnessing magical power into a viable spell on willpower alone simply due to a lack of focus. What we did essentially decreased the focus threshold for wandless spells exponentially."
"Which means…" began Hermione, awed as she realized the implications of Bill's explanation, "that where we might have needed an innate gift, or years of training to be able to make a wandless spark…"
Bill nodded. "You would now need to barely think about it in order to do it."
"That's…incredible!" she breathed, amazed by the discovery her brother-in-law had made. "Like lightning hitting a lightning rod!" Bill shrugged.
"That's just one facet of it," he told her. "The real shock came when we realized that when the same procedure was implemented into a regular human being, then the magical properties of the Venati DNA would cause a chain reaction within them."
"How so?" asked Ron, eyes narrowed as he started to follow the conversation.
Bill smiled. "The Venati DNA, as Harry and I have now both explained, is intrinsically parasitic, but it is also extremely aggressive," he explained. "To that end, when a magically-infused piece of such DNA is placed within a normal human being, the end result is that the magical genes within the Venati DNA is transmitted into the person," he looked over to Hermione, whose eyes had comically widened at where he was headed. "Can you guess where I'm getting at?"
"You…you made mages?" she asked breathlessly. "That's…that's…"
Bill gave a smiling nod. "Indeed we did. With the help of the regulating microrods, which are designed to regulate the spread and aggressiveness of the foreign DNA, the average human being now has the potential to become a mage," he confirmed. "It was quite a shock, to be honest."
"That's incredible," Hermione seemed torn between awe and giddiness as she realized the wealth of knowledge that Bill and his team worked on. Not to mention the social implications for such a discovery.
Ron, however, was of a different mind, openly showing his disgust. "Incredible?!" he snapped. "It's a violation of the natural order, is what it is!"
Marching right up to his brother, he looked at Bill straight in the eye and roughly poked a finger into his brother's chest for emphasis. "Wizards are born, Bill! Witches are born! We are not some toy you can just build!"
Bill, however, would not be lectured on the morality of his project; not when the future stability of the Empire was at stake. "Magic is the reason this war happened, brother," he spat back, his cigarette now on the floor and squished. "Do you even understand what this project will do? There will be no more separation of the human race into two groups—no more racism on the basis of magical ability, because everyone will have it! We won't have to hide away in our little hidey-holes as though we should be ashamed of our gifts!"
Bill took a step forward, making his brother retreat just as much. "I've had it with the superiority complex of our people, brother," he continued, angrily jabbing his finger into Ron's chest. "I've had it with the complacency! We strut around, as though every other creature should bow to us for our ability to use magic, but conversely, we allow everything to pass us by! I'm sick of using candles when we could use lightbulbs; quills, when pens exist! Why on earth do we even use parchment, when lined, mass produced paper exists!?"
Ron was not cowed into silence, however. "Tradition, Bill!" he countered. "It's all about tradition! We've always been this way, always used these tools you demean so loudly! You would sacrifice a thousand years of tradition for the sake of blind progress?!"
"Yes!" Bill snapped back immediately and without second thought. "Tradition is good and all when it doesn't hold us back! When it does, however, it should be done away with or altered to suit the new times!" he lectured. "Tradition is not natural, little brother—it is merely a human social construct. And if this human creation is holding us back, then it is only logical for us to shed ourselves of it or make suitable alterations."
"Does the Duke agree with that?" Hermione asked softly, interrupting their argument.
Bill gave a single shake of his head. "Of course not," he answered irritably. "Harry is much more traditional than I am. Of course, that's tempered with a healthy respect for technological innovation, so I can't really complain. After all, he is the one who spearheaded the Archangel Project and Project Valkyrie."
Whatever his brother and sister-in-law wanted to say in response was quickly cut short as the door to the decontamination room opened up and Fleur poked her head. "Bill, we need you in here. We're about to graft the final pieces of the Venati DNA," she informed him.
Bill sighed and quickly stashed his cigarette box into his coat pocket before going into the room Fleur was waiting in. There, he got suitably scrubbed-up and then proceeded to the operation room, leaving behind the two newest Weasley couple.
Hermione left her husband's side and went up to the two-way observation mirror, softly placing a hand on the glass as she watched Bill and Fleur, along with a substantial medic team, operate away on the man she'd at one point considered her greatest mentor. Successful or not, she knew Dumbledore would die—that was the point. Obviously, Dumbledore had finally understood the breadth of his actions' consequences and wanted to atone for it—just not on some gallows. This way, he could potentially redeem himself before the world and pay for his crimes with his life. Everyone won…somewhat.
"It's not right," she heard Ron protest to no one in particular. "It's just not right."
"What isn't?" she asked softly, eyes still fixed on the gory, medical spectacle before her.
"Everything," he answered, his fists clenching at his sides in impotent rage. "Our home taken, our culture dismissed…Dumbledore dying like this!" he motioned towards the mirror, though his wife could not see it. "What did we do to deserve this?"
"We threw the first blow," she reminded him softly; torn between supporting the sentiment and disagreeing with it entirely.
Ron snorted. "So they should punch us back, I get that—I do," he replied honestly. "But total annihilation? Total eradication of our way of life, just because it doesn't meet their standards? Whatever happened to tolerating different cultures? I thought you said that was one of the pillars of Muggle society."
"A lot has changed," she stated simply. "We never noticed—I never noticed, because we didn't want to notice," she elaborated. "It's a bit like Bill says. We were so stuck in tradition that we didn't notice the world around us advance centuries beyond us. When they wanted us to deal with our problems, we dismissed them because we thought ourselves superior…and I guess, at some point, they decided they would tolerate no further."
"So if they think it's broke, they have a right to fix it by taking everything away from us?" he asked bitterly, arms crossed as he moved to his wife's side.
Hermione shrugged. "Who are we to say no? They won, Ron—whether we like it or not," she reminded him. Their eyes had still not met. "They have the weapons, the power, and the popular backing they need to vaporize every last trace of our magical society, and it's probably because of your sister that we're even alive."
"Don't remind me," he grumbled, his pride still stinging from the idea that his baby sister was probably the only thing between him and a firing squad.
Hermione turned to face him, a stern expression on her face. "No, Ron, I will remind you," she said sternly. "Enough is enough. Your sister has done practically the impossible and kept an insane tide of popular support for our execution at bay. She's risked her neck when she didn't have to, and this feud you, Molly, and Percy have with her is frankly now getting ridiculous, considering all she's done for us."
"She helped the Empire take our homes!" he defended himself. "How could I possibly feel indebted to her?!"
Hermione glared at her stubborn husband. "And yet we somehow managed to own property in Harrisburg. Harrisburg, Ron. We were on a blacklist when the Royal government was restored, and we somehow managed to get in, regardless. And, if Minerva is right, it's entirely thanks of your sister. She had to intervene with local authorities just to let us buy a house. She probably had to convince Potter that we were harmless to even get us in the country, Ron! Hell, haven't you figured out how much of a miracle it is that our home hasn't even been broken into or vandalized, even once? Who we are is no secret, and I've had my fair share of glares thrown my way while walking down the street, so I'm guessing your sister had the police presence there increased substantially."
"And I should forgive her for everything else she's done, just because of that?" he demanded, slightly surprised when Hermione firmly nodded.
"Yes, Ron! I mean, what else could you possibly want from her?" she demanded right back. "She could have her reputation ruined on the basis of favouritism or nepotism, and yet she still went out of her way to make sure we would be safe and with a roof over our heads!" she reminded him. "Isn't that enough?"
"Not until we get an apology for what she did," he growled, unwilling to let go all that easily. "She ruined everything back home. She practically helped the Death Eaters undermine the Order by taking away so many wizards and witches!"
This time, Hermione did react physically. Drawing her left hand back, she immediately delivered a resounding slap to Ron's face, stunning her husband by the act of physical violence—which Hermione never did. She could use her magic to retaliate, or attempt humiliation via verbal attacks, but she never used physical violence before.
"How dare you!" she hissed at him, for once well and truly furious towards her husband. "We set ourselves up for that fall, Ron, and you better man up and admit it!"
"What?! How?!" he demanded, flinching slightly as his reddened cheek stung from the movement of his jaw. His wife could really pack a slap!
"We never once did anything to make things better, Ron," she reminded him. "How many years had gone by between Voldemort's defeat and the coup? How many times in those years did Dumbledore do something that was in the public interest? How many hurtful and discriminatory laws did he veto during that time?"
"He's one man, Hermione! You can't expect him to—"
"Yes, I can," she cut him off determinedly. "He was Supreme Mugwump, Ron. Supreme Mugwump. He could have stopped any number of proposals going through the Wizengamot, but he didn't. Instead, he chose to play headmaster, when Minerva was around as a suitable replacement option! If he didn't have the will to be the supreme legislative actor in the Wizengamot, then he should have stepped aside and let someone reformist have the job, but he didn't!"
"But the Empire did?" he asked bitterly.
Hermione gave him a firm nod. "Yes, they did. The worst part is, Ron, that they didn't have to pass a great deal of laws to make themselves appealing to the people who left—most had been in place for years. We are the ones who fell behind. We promoted intolerance while they didn't. We were falling behind most of the world, Ron! Not just the Empire!"
Ron wanted to argue, he really did. The problem was, everything that he had on the tip of his tongue sounded hollow even to him. He hadn't been one of the main operational minds of the Order for nothing—and even his brief stint in the Imperial military had opened his eyes to quite a lot of the positives of the Empire. The problem was, he had never truly been forced to come face to face with his beliefs. Perhaps if he'd had in the past, he would have been less reticent about their situation. As a result, his epiphany was a little late in coming, and as he watched his respected leader figure get operated on, he realized that it was probably time to admit defeat.
Needless to say, he hated the feeling.
But if it came down to either feeling defeated or losing his wife—who even he had to admit was possibly too good for him—then he chose defeat, hands down.
"I…suppose," was all he said, and Hermione's face lit up with a bright, proud smile as she immediately understood that he had finally come around. With a feminine squeal, she launched herself at him and hugged him tightly, happy to have finally convinced him.
Hogwarts Castle Astronomy Tower…
As a rule of thumb, dodging is perhaps the most vital skill that any melee fighter should ever learn. After all, in close-quarters combat, opponents were far more liable to twist and bend in ways to quickly adapt to a changing situation. At a distance, all of this was negated by the amount of firepower per second that could be discharged from a safe distance.
However, that being said, dodging fifteen tentacles was quite possibly just an exercise in ridiculousness.
Ginny had never had such a workout imposed on her in her life, and considering her status as one of the best assassins in the world, that was saying something. Yet, despite this glaring hole in her education as a skilled life-taker, she was nonetheless faced with such a predicament as Narcissa finally seemed to completely let loose on her hated rival.
The problem was, as she'd found out, that the tentacles were not as rigid as their chitinous composition should have made them. They were twisting and turning at every feasible angle, always forcing Ginny to jump around like a rabbit on speed if she was to avoid getting skewered by the absurd number of sharp appendages.
Even worse was the fact that she couldn't hurt Narcissa via said appendages. She'd tried—Lord knows she tried—but she never seemed to get even a wince out of the blonde whenever she successfully managed to tear off one of them with her upgraded power. That led the redhead to believe that the damn things were cut off from the blonde's nervous system, meaning that she was pretty much guiding them around on instinct alone.
Needless to say, Ginny was suitably impressed. Hard-pressed in surviving the assault, yes, but impressed nonetheless.
The fact that she was down to using her melee sabre also hindered Ginny's arsenal of attacks. With her retractable blades, she would have been able to deliver blows with less risk to herself, but using the sabre meant getting up and close with the damn things in a way that put her in immense risk. Even worse was the fact that she hadn't yet found a way to get to the blonde.
It didn't do much good being an assassin if the target was unreachable, after all.
Of course, her upgraded strength also gave her an advantage. She now knew with certainty that she could take on the tentacles and win—the only problem was that Narcissa was regenerating them with amazing speed. Every time Ginny ripped one off, it seemed to her that Narcissa had two more ready to replace it.
Hell, there was a rather impressive puddle of black ooze forming on the ground from all the tentacles she had ripped cleanly off Narcissa.
Grimacing at how hard it was to get to the blonde, Ginny quickly sheathed her sabre and brought up her left hand in a familiar sign. "Avolo!" she cried, shortly before disappearing in a puff of smoke, just as Narcissa's tentacles speared right through where she'd been.
The blonde was quick on the uptake, however, and sure enough, Ginny was beset by the sharpened appendages almost immediately on reappearance. With a frustrated grunt, she spun and flipped in an impressive array of acrobatics, taking down another tentacle in the process.
Quickly processing the situation, she rationalized her current choices with as clear a mind as she could possibly have in her current predicament. Physical attacks, while the most devastating to the tentacles, would not get her anywhere near Narcissa, unfortunately. That left magic.
Crossing her arms in front of her, she gave Narcissa a vicious glare as she pooled her magic all over her forearms. "DIFFINDO!" she cried out, swinging down her arms as she released the spell from both her forearms. The result was two impressive arcs of magic racing towards Narcissa as she herself moved out of the way of a dozen attempts to spear her.
The spell was more effective than Ginny had hoped. Cutting through the tentacles effortlessly, it managed to make its way all the way over to Narcissa before it dispelled against Narcissa's point-blank defence. Emboldened by this new information, Ginny grinned and really let loose on the blonde, flinging Diffindo curses one after another at Narcissa, who was having a hard time replacing the slashed appendages at the rate that Ginny was eliminating them.
Nonetheless, actually hitting Narcissa seemed to be a problem in and of itself. Ginny had yet to land a single blow against her, after all, and while she could keep cutting the tentacles until the cows came home, she did have her magical limits, while it didn't seem like creating the tentacles was much of a stamina-drainer for her blonde rival.
Frustrated, she watched as another Diffindo curse get blocked by the seemingly instinctual shield that protected Narcissa from any sort of direct physical attack. Well, at the very least, Ginny didn't have to worry about getting stabbed to death, seeing as how she could just slice off any new tentacles with her magic. The problem was, as stated previously, that she did have her limits.
"Time to get creative, I suppose," she muttered to herself. Glancing around as she continually harassed Narcissa, such that the blonde would be unable to send out more tentacles to worsen Ginny's day, she quickly locked her gaze on to a broken piece of rock that had once graced the tower as a parapet stone.
Narrowing her eyes at Narcissa's entombed form, she sent two more Diffindo spells at her defensive cocoon and then made a dash for the rock. Sliding into a halt next to it, she looked up momentarily to see Narcissa's cocoon slowly dissolve as her attacks had waned, and quickly got to work, placing her two hands on the detached stone.
"Here goes nothing," she muttered as she channelled her magic into her hands and from there, into the stone. She grinned as she watched the stone glow, then slowly change shape as it lengthened and thinned out into a stone staff. It would be heavy as hell, but with her increased strength, Ginny had no doubts she could wield it as though made of foam.
Grabbing the newly Transfigured staff, she leapt out of the way of two more tentacles, and quickly dispatched them with well-placed Diffindo curses. Expertly, she quickly channelled her magic into the staff and focused it on the top end, having failed to complete the Transfiguration before. Slowly, she watched it shift into a spear-like design, and grinned in satisfaction. Then, with a twirl, she pointed it in a ready stance towards the ground.
"Preparations…complete!" she said in satisfaction as she fed the staff with very specific magic. The effects were instantaneous. All along the spearhead, blue swirls were beginning to form around it, moving upward in a spiral shape. It was time to see if she was as good a mage as she was an assassin.
With a heave, she readied the stone spear for a throw, taking her time in lining up the perfect shot, even as Narcissa's cocoon once again dissolved, and the tell-tale pools of dark energy on the blonde's body marked the beginning of more tentacles. Narrowing her eyes, she locked in on the blonde's chest, figuring it would be harder to avoid that than a spear to the head or to the gut.
"Enough games!" she heard Narcissa screech as she formed over twenty tentacles. "Time to die, you worthless bint!"
Ginny could not help the amused smirk on her face as she readied the throw. "Could not agree more…" she muttered, just before taking in a deep breath, pulling back the spear, and then throwing it forward with all her magically-empowered strength. She had to mentally restrain herself from shouting, "Eat this!" at this point, as she figured that would just be tacky as hell.
Regardless, she watched with a grin as the spear flew through the air and slashed its way through the tentacles swarming to smash it away, the spiralling tip of the spear magically drilling its way through the air. With the satisfying sound of flesh getting ripped apart, she watched as the spear did its job and literally drilled through the dark cocoon's protective chitin flesh, finishing up in a surprised Narcissa's chest. The blonde slumped to the ground on her side.
Ginny couldn't help the victorious arm-pump she did then. The whole thing had been a long shot, but seeing the effects that her magic was having on the tentacles, she figured she could apply that to break the cocoon, if she managed to find a way of delivering a ton of magic to a centralized point.
Her elation didn't last long, however, as she watched the slump Narcissa slowly get back to her feet, the stone spearhead still very much protruding from her back. Ginny audibly groaned at the sight.
"Oh, come on!"
"Ne…ver…" Narcissa was saying through her pained gasps of breath. Honestly, it surprised Ginny that she could even speak, considering the pain she must have been in. "…Ne…ver…give…up…you!"
Ginny didn't have to be a rocket scientist to understand that Narcissa was refusing to surrender. Then, to her surprise, Narcissa grabbed the spear pole and, excruciatingly slowly, pulled the weapon out of her body, pained moans treacherously leaving her mouth as she did.
When the spear was out, however, Ginny wanted to stomp her foot in frustration as she watched the wound slowly close up. Was there no way to beat Venati hybrids?
Any thoughts along that line were quickly pushed aside as she watched the blonde slam down her hands, side by side, on the stone floor, and easily fifty linear shadows spread out from that location, racing every which way.
"T…" Narcissa tried to vocalize, wincing as she spoke. Clearly, even if her regenerative powers had closed the gaping hole in her chest, it had not yet repaired all of the internal damage. "Torment of the Underworld!"
Immediately, Ginny had a really bad feeling about the situation, and instinctually pushed all her magic to her feet and jumped straight up, leaving behind two feet-shaped indentations in the stonework as a result of the massive amount of strength she had put into it.
It was lucky she did, too, because almost immediately thereafter, easily seventy onyx-coloured, chitin spikes shot up from the shadows that Narcissa had spread all over the top of the tower.
Up in the air, Ginny goggled at the sight of the entire top of the Astronomy Tower turning into a miniature replica of hell. Had she been a second late in jumping, the spikes would have speared her.
"Damn…" she muttered to herself, astonished by this new show of power from her rival. From what she could determine, there were very few spots lefts for her to land, and even less room for mobility. Narcissa had used that move well. Too well, in fact.
Even worse was the fact that Ginny knew she had to go back down there in the immediate future, as gravity was a harsh mistress. The landing wasn't a problem, given her control over her body mass, but fighting amidst the needle-like spikes would be. Even worse would be if Narcissa ever decided to use that technique again, just to fill in the gaps.
With a sigh, she quickly homed in on a suitable landing spot and gently set herself on the ground, one tentative foot at a time. All the while, her mind would not stop thinking up plans for dealing with the persistent blonde. Strategies, anatomical analyses, tactics—they buzzed in her mind rapidly as she realized just how amazingly screwed she was. The amount of space she had calculated from above was in fact much smaller than anticipated. Furthermore, there was no direct line of vision towards Narcissa, which meant she couldn't track the blonde, while her opponent didn't seem to have that problem in regards to guiding the tentacle blades.
"Like I have the time to play hide-and-seek," she grumbled, drawing her sabre in the process. Absently, she cast a Diffindo curse at one of the spikes, and sighed as she watched it barely nick it. On a whim, she then cast a Killing Curse at it, and while the dent was a little deeper, it was also quite useless against the spike.
"Damnit all…" she muttered again. Looking around, she scanned the area for both threats and movement space, and found none of the latter, but some of the former. Quickly, she jumped aside as three tentacles slammed into the ground where she'd been standing moments ago. Almost immediately, a cackle resonated in the air.
"FOUND YOU!"
Twenty tentacles seemed to appear at this point, jutting into the small clearing from every possible angle, making life very hard for Ginny as she ducked, rolled, and jumped out of their way. The tentacles weren't about to let up, however, and quickly twisted and turned to chase after the petite woman, forcing Ginny to dance around the small clearing with skill she had never known herself to possess if she wanted to survive.
Well, that wasn't going to last, no matter what she did. Eventually, the tentacles, sightlessly guided by Narcissa, managed to corner her as she was pressed against one of the many spikes that surrounded the clearing. This time, it was over. There was no place she could jump to or run to that would keep her from becoming a personified representation of Swiss cheese. So instead, she charged her hands with magical power and got ready to slam her hands into the ground to form a barrier, hoping against all odds that she would pull it off before Narcissa was able to kill her.
"Kage Shibari"
To her surprise, as Ginny had been certain her life was about to be ended, the tentacles froze in mid-thrust, stopping barely more than a few inches away from her crouching body, her hands on the floor, but her spell not yet activated.
"Oodama no Kaze," she heard next, and she was suddenly glad that she was crouching, as she saw some unseen force suddenly mow down the spikes around her. She squinted as sunlight suddenly flooded the clearing, having been significantly reduced by the onyx-coloured spikes previously.
"You seem to be in some distress, Potter-san," she heard the same voice talk to her. She looked up and saw a shadowed figure standing atop the spike she had been forced against, looking down at her. "May I be of assistance?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Ginny's head where she'd heard that voice before, and her eyes widened as a result. There was no way that Harry had managed to involve them in this as well. She knew about the American Resistance's debt to him, of course, but to involve the neutral Japanese?! What the hell did he have on them?!
"Y-Your Imperial Majesty…" she stuttered out in shock as the shadows seemed to recede from the man's appearance, revealing the regal features of the Japanese Emperor as she stood in a doctrinal kenjutsu stance, even though his katana and wazikashi were still sheathed.
If the man had heard her, he didn't show it, as he kept his gaze focused towards some place she couldn't see due to the spike stumps blocking her field of vision.
"I see…" she heard him say then, his drawing hand on his katana hilt. "That woman reeks of darkness. No wonder your husband asked me to help you," he concluded as he slowly drew his sword. "A wise choice."
Almost immediately, thirty tentacles shot up from somewhere on the tower, she saw, and raced to skewer the new arrival. Even as Ginny shouted out a warning, she watched as the much older man deftly countered and parried every last one of the tentacles with an ease even she hadn't been capable of, and she was both magically enhanced and trained as an assassin!
"Pathetic form," the Japanese man chided Narcissa as he deflected and then surprisingly severed the tentacles. "I've sparred with children who could deliver a more effective blow, girl."
Maybe it was the fact that the Emperor had lived for a longer time than she, or just the way he was, but Ginny couldn't help but note that he had a way of making even the simplest admonishments sound like a resounding notice of utter failure. From the twitch in the tentacles, she knew it even got to Narcissa, whom she could hear screech in fury as she launched attack after attack, which the Emperor deflected with embarrassing ease.
"Do not presume me to be some grunt, girl," he admonished. "One does not become Emperor of the Japanese merely due to inheritance."
As if to articulate this point, he slashed through two more tentacles as though they were butter, his form immaculate. Ginny could only stay still and watch as the older man completely outclassed her in skill and form, not even sweating as he deflected, parried, and destroyed Narcissa's attack outright.
Suddenly, however, his gaze was on her crouching form, judgmental and stern. "How long will you keep hiding away like that, Potter-san?" he demanded in a stern, accented voice. "Do not tell me that the infamous Shishiko is nothing more than a scared little kitten!"
That did it. Ginny was many things—most of them good—but lacking in pride was not one of them. Rising to her feet, she gave the Emperor a reproachful glare—which, in any other occasion, would have been reason enough for her to beat herself up for, given his elevated status—and then jumped up to where he was calmly standing, awaiting Narcissa's next attack. She landed in a crouch at his side, her hands still magically charged.
The Emperor gave her a satisfied nod and returned his gaze to their enemy, whom Ginny could not see once again. Narcissa was apparently getting winded, she noted, judging from her slightly hunched stance and the limp way her arms were hanging. She guessed that between her lance attack and the spike-forming spell, Narcissa had taken a severe blow to her stamina.
"Do not presume that what it seen on the outside reflects the inside," the Emperor warned her, apparently having guessed her train of thought. "She may look tired, but how much more will she have to go through before she is exhausted?"
Ginny nodded, accepting his words of caution without question. He had satisfied her suspicions when he had called her Shishiko, or Lioness. It was a nickname she had heard of from Harry, and since it wasn't widely publicized, she imagined that it was more of an in-house name for her since her little jaunt in Japan during her Confederacy days.
"She has a point defence mechanism," she warned the Emperor. "Anything gets too close, and she'll instinctively cocoon herself in the same material as those tentacles, only denser."
The man nodded. "Is there any way to defeat this absolute defence?" he asked calmly, like a seasoned warrior on a battlefield—which, incidentally, he currently was.
Ginny nodded. "Concentrating magical energy within a small area seems to be enough to tear through the protection. Wide-area attacks simply dissipate against the shell," she reported.
The Emperor nodded again. "Good. Leave her to me, then," he told her, surprising Ginny. "I am not so new to war as to believe that the Duke would send his top assassin and spy into enemy headquarters to defeat someone who should be dead."
Ginny didn't bother denying it. "Correct," she admitted. "There is a ritual happening beneath us. I need to destroy the ritual circle and all traces of the process."
The Emperor nodded. "Very well. Go, then," he said, still the epitome of calm, as though Narcissa couldn't do a thing to faze him.
Ginny hesitated. "I…are you sure, Imperial Majesty?" she asked, motioning towards Narcissa. "She's strong…like you said. And my mission can wait, unless they start the ritual up again," she argued.
Normally, the Emperor would have simply dismissed Ginny the way he did with unruly subordinates, but as Ginny was neither under his command, nor exactly an inferior, he restrained himself from doing so, admitting that she may have some grounds for her hesitation. So instead, he compromised and, with a one-handed hand sign, caused a jet of black light to shoot up into the sky, exploding into a Japanese character.
"A call for reinforcements," he simply stated when he saw her curious look. "It would not do to have your mission so postponed, so I will have my men carry it out while we deal with this unruly woman."
Ginny grinned and nodded once. "As you say," she agreed, getting into a ready position to lunge forward in attack.
Narcissa made the first move, however, launching all her tentacles at the duo, who either leapt out of the way, or countered it with their sword. Deflecting the last one—and unable to manage a severing cut—the Emperor rose his non-grip hand up and made a one-handed sign again, this one different from the one he'd used to send up the jet of light.
"You seek us out without sight; you have my admiration for your skill," he told Narcissa in his perpetually calm tone. "But let us see how you fare in true darkness. Kokuangyo no Mahou!" he incanted, and Narcissa's relentless attacks suddenly stopped, with the tentacles flapping about uncontrollably.
"I-I can't see!" the blonde wailed. "My senses! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?"
The Emperor wasn't about to explain his magicks to the enemy, however, and merely turned his attention to Ginny, who had understood that the Emperor had seemingly crippled Narcissa's senses. "Shishiko! Now!"
"Got it!" she shouted back, racing towards the mortified blonde at the centre of the tower roof. She immediately charged her fists with magical energy and landed right in front of her archenemy, both hands visibly glowing with magical power. "Here goes nothing! Diffindo!"
Normally a curve-like attack, Ginny had purposely kept all the Diffindo magic in her hands, specifically swirling around them as she flattened her hands and jabbed them into the quickly-forming chitin cocoon. As she had previously observed, the concentrated onslaught of magical energy drilled away at the cocoon, until she finally felt her hands break through on the other side and go through something both soft and moist, followed by a pained scream.
Judging by her angle of attack, Ginny had just managed to inflict massive, lethal wounds on Narcissa, having aimed for both lungs.
What she didn't expect, then, is to have the cocoon explode on her at point-blank range, threatening to end her life with shrapnel fire. To her great surprise, however, she suddenly reappeared back at her initial spot, cradled in the arms of the Emperor, who was carrying her bridal style and at the same time looking at the remains of the chitin cocoon.
Looking as well, she saw Narcissa on the floor, a rather large pool of blood forming underneath her. While not outright dead, it was pretty clear that the blonde would not be able to continue fighting in her present condition, nor would she be among the living for much longer.
Regardless, Ginny could not help but feel a small sense of respect for her nemesis, who was still clinging on to life, even in her death throes. The tight cloth over the blonde's eyes had loosened over the whole fight, to the point that it had now slid down to her neck and hung there, giving both the Emperor and Ginny a good look at the blonde's face in its entirety for the first time.
Narcissa's eyes were sewn shut. Hell, they could even see the stitching that had done the work. Which, in hindsight, made complete sense, since Ginny had put two blades through her eyes.
The two warriors watched their defeated foe as she clawed and grasped at the stone beneath her, desperately trying to keep herself alive, as improbable as that was.
And then, the firestorm on the grounds ended.
Ginny and the Emperor both turned their heads to look, curious to see the result, and almost immediately they felt Narcissa's presence dash past them, headed straight towards the grounds—despite being at the top of the tallest tower in the castle complex—a rather large trail of blood painting the stonework beneath their feet and leading off the tower and towards the grounds.
Ginny reacted instantly, as did the Emperor. "Shit!" she shouted, using her magically enhanced limbs to race after Narcissa, jumping off the tower in the process, the Emperor right on her tail.
The two landed roughly on the ground, deep impressions forming as their mass was magically altered to avoid death-by-gravity. And yet, they could already see their prey making her way towards the ground far ahead, the trail of blood increasing in width as her wounds worsened. Frankly, it was nothing short of a miracle that the woman was still alive.
As they passed the complex, they looked down again as they reached the edge of the plateau on which the school was mounted, and looking down, saw a small figure—Narcissa—rushing towards what seemed to be a magical dome, making Ginny glower.
"Oh, he didn't!" she hissed, correctly guessing the location of her husband. "That stupid git!"
Without giving the Emperor a chance to ask for an explanation, she quickly followed Narcissa's example and jumped off the edge, her magic once again at work in reallocating her mass to avoid getting splattered at the bottom. As she did, she heard a large explosion coming somewhere from the vicinity of the Second Gate, but paid it no heed. Her husband's health came first.
Hogwarts Grounds, Airfleet Bombardment Ground Zero…
Harry gave a contented sigh as he saw the bombardment finally let up, his personal squad of ADST bodyguards still in their circular formation around him, rifles aimed at the ground while they waited out the catastrophic firestorm. Noticing, like their chief, that the bombing was coming to an end, however, they were quickly raising their rifles once more, ready to fight the inevitable onslaught of Venati that would rush to meet them once the portals were no longer in the middle of a raging storm of fire and death.
Harry, however, had different targets in mind, having sensed them the moment they seemed to lock onto him. To his surprise, two of the people he'd expected to have gotten themselves killed hadn't, and this brought on some irritation towards his subordinates. Clearly, his improvements hadn't been enough, or something had gone wrong. He would have to speak to his men later on.
Regardless, he knew he had Riddle's attention now. There was no way that between everything that had just happened, that he wouldn't come out and end him once and for all. All he needed to do to ensure that this would be the inevitable and logical next step, then, was to finish what his subordinates could not—and in such a way to firmly establish that he wasn't someone to underestimate.
"Men, part formation," he ordered the group. "Form up at my rear. One line, facing the portals."
"Yes, sir!" replied the detachment sergeant, before repeating the orders to the group. As ordered, the remaining ADST bodyguards marched in step to their new position behind their charge, despite their own reservations about leaving him wide open to attack.
Little did they understand, that this was what he wanted.
Indeed, he could sense the two enemy presences coming closer by the second, although they were considerably weakened. Even then, however, he accurately judged them to be multiple times stronger than any one of his ADST bodyguards, and being a man who didn't enjoy pointless sacrifices, he was not about to waste his men on targets he knew they couldn't beat.
The first of the two enemies came from above, which immediately told him that he needed to have a word with Pike over his lack of success, as he knew the Texan soldier would have bolted to help his former comrade, Charlie. Curious as he was about the enemy lieutenant's identity, however, Harry maintained his disinterested expression as he felt the person near him. What surprised him, however, was that the figure rammed into the ground in front of him, kicking up dirt and dust as he slid into a shallow trench caused by his landing.
Harry couldn't help the smirk on his face.
"Well, well," he said tauntingly as he recognized the battered figure in the trench. "Not looking so well, are you Barty?"
A testament to Pike's skill, Barty looked like he was about to keel over any moment now. Gashes decorated his ragged body, and his dark robes had been torn apart, leaving only his lower body covered in any way. Above the waist, however, he looked like he'd been flogged alive to the point of skinning, judging from the amount of blood coating his chest. Even his face looked like an angry mountain lion had taken its claws to it, and he was breathing deeply and painfully, judging from the constant flinching.
"You know, I was going to reprimand Pike for not killing you," he observed, as Barty struggled to his feet, his equally battered scythe barely held by his trembling hands. "But this is so much more gratifying, I think."
"P-Potter!" he heard Crouch barely stammer out coherently. Harry raised an impressed eyebrow—the man must be hurting a whole damn lot more than he'd been thinking. "D-Die in the n-name of our Lord!"
Well, Harry had to give the man props for tenacity, though a zero for common sense. Refusing to move an inch from his position, he looked on as Crouch slashed at him with his scythe in an agonizingly slow move. Raising his left hand, he was easily able to grasp the chipped blade of the scythe between his index finger and thumb, completely stopping the momentum of the attack.
"Is that it?" he asked disappointedly. Crouch glared up at him and was about to say something when a massive jolt of pain wracked his body and killed whatever insult he had on the tip of his tongue—along with him, as well.
Sighing in mock disappointment, Harry retracted his hand from his felled opponent's midsection, his pale hand now dripping with blood. He hadn't even been forced to morph the hand into its blade form it was so easy. Blade still between his fingers, he watched as Crouch crumpled to the ground, his grip on the scythe lost.
His attention was almost immediately caught by the arrival of his second opponent, a darker side of him deeply wishing that this new foe would grant him a better challenge than Barty had been able to deliver. Almost as if his wish had been granted, he watched as multiple, sharp tentacles shot down at him, impaling the ground all around him, while his men deftly avoiding getting skewered.
Harry raised an eyebrow. Had this been a purposeful miss, or was the enemy just that incompetent?
"POTTER!!" he heard the feminine scream and grinned.
"Narcissa…" he realized, his grin turning vicious as he used his two-finger grip to flip the scythe around and grasped the handle.
"DIE!!" he heard Narcissa cry out, a trail of red blood flowing around her—no doubt as a result of her rather severe wounds. Squinting, he could make out thirty tentacles forming on the front of her body.
As before, he grinned viciously at the sight. He was tired of playing armchair general anyway. Scythe in hand, he twisted his body around slightly, embedded a considerable amount of Diffindo magic into the blade, then just as quickly twisted back around and launched the spell off the scythe blade up at the incoming blonde, his grin unforgiving and feral. "You first," he countered.
Seeing the incoming spell, Narcissa launched as many of her tentacles as she could, fully intent on at least taking down Harry with her. What she did not expect, however, was that the spell was both considerably stronger than anything Ginny had ever thrown at her, and that it was much faster, quickly taking down many of her tentacles as it raced towards her.
Without any chance of dodging or warning, the spell slammed right into her midsection, making her scream as much as she now could as it literally bisected her. As her top half slammed down hard at his feet, he watched the bottom portion of the blonde's body land several feet away, large pools of blood forming at the stumps. Even then, he was amazed at the fact that the blonde was still alive.
In fact, she was trying to claw at his pants, but a quick kick to her arms quickly put a stop to that. Looking down, he saw that she seemed intent on giving him a parting few—no doubt hateful—words, but he wasn't nearly willing to tolerate anything of the sort, and so quickly brought down the scythe's blade on the woman's neck, instantly severing it from her irremediably severed and damaged upper torso.
And just like that, all of Riddle's lieutenants had met their end.
It was, in Harry's mind, quite anti-climactic. After all, there was no grand, self-sacrificing action on the part of any of them that would have hindered his upcoming fight with the big bad himself. Nor had there been much of an effort needed to dispatch them—though, granted, they were critically injured. Furthermore, it solidified his opinion that Riddle had done some slip-shod work, meaning that he had very little actual understanding in the workings of Venati-Human hybridization. Lastly, it told him that he needn't be too harsh on his altered subordinates, as enough time would have undoubtedly resulted in the deaths of their targets.
Speaking of which…
Harry felt them first, then saw Ginny, Nathaniel, and the Japanese Emperor appear before him—with Ginny the only one kneeling before him. Giving a greeting nod to Nathaniel, he then proceeded to give the Emperor a dignified bow.
"You came," he observed rather redundantly. "I thank you both for your assistance this day."
Nathaniel grinned, while the Emperor was more reserved and merely nodded back. "We were happy to assist in any way, Potter-san," the Emperor said calmly. "After all, what are allies for, if not to fight for each other?"
Harry gave the man a smile before turning to Nathaniel. "I trust the matter at Serpent Fortress was…rectified?"
Nathaniel's grin widened. "Sure was. Glassed the whole damn place," he assured him. "All of Riddle's secret golem and mercenary army was effectively destroyed. Good thing, too—it kinda looked like they were thinking of heading this way."
"Good thing indeed," agreed the Emperor, who had piggybacked his own military forces with the Americans. "It was not much of a fight, however. We caught them completely by surprise."
Harry nodded, then slowly smiled as he felt something stirring in his magical senses. "Very good," he congratulated the two loudly, before giving them both a smirk. "Though, if I were you, I would retreat to the lines now," he warned.
Out of the three, only Ginny seemed to understand what was at hand. The Emperor, taking the lead, quickly asked, "Why is that, Potter-san?"
He was quickly answered by the massive magical outburst that suddenly exploded from the castle. Unlike before, however, it wasn't an MS-5. It wasn't a shockwave of any kind, in fact. What it was, however, was a beacon, a warning. It was the signal flare that Harry had been waiting for, driving for this entire fight.
Riddle was coming out to play.
"I believe the guest of honour has finally decided to show," he answered simply, the visible pillar of magic surrounding the castle compounded by the sudden surge in Venati that exploded from the portals, quickly replenishing their battlefield numbers.
He turned his head back to his bodyguards. "Head back to the lines," he ordered simply. "Tell General Sulu to put every man he can into the front lines. However much they were attacked before, this is going to be fifty times worse."
The ADST sergeant only hesitated a second before nodding and saluting. "Yes, sir!" the man barked, before ordering his men to fall back to the lines, leaving Harry with Nathaniel, the Emperor, and Ginny.
Harry glanced at both the Emperor and Nathaniel then. "Please fall back as well, my friends," he requested, knowing full well they were not technically under his orders. "It would help more if you were there to aid General Sulu in his defence."
"And the Second Gate?" asked the Emperor, glancing back at said structure.
Harry smiled. "I am certain they will be fine."
"Won't Riddle aim for them, though?" asked Nathaniel, slightly apprehensive from the massive amount of magic being concentrated in Hogwarts Castle.
Harry shook his head. "His fight is with me, and he knows it. As long as I draw breath, he won't go for anyone else."
The Emperor and Nathaniel exchanged brief glances before nodding once at Harry and, like the ADST bodyguard detachment, fell back to the front lines of General Sulu's detachment, leaving their friend alone with his wife.
There was a brief moment of silence between the two—Ginny still kneeling—before the redhead spoke up.
"I'm sorry!" she apologized, a note of desperation in her voice. Harry rose a curious eyebrow at this gesture.
"Whatever for?" he asked calmly, though he had a very good idea.
"I couldn't kill her," she explained, motioning to Narcissa's trisected remains. "She…surprised me, and damn near killed me if it wasn't for the Emperor."
Harry gave her an amused smirk, lowering his hand to gently lift up her chin so that she would gaze up at his face. "It's quite alright," he assured her. "I needed a warm-up anyway, love."
Ginny blushed at the endearment, but took his acceptance at face value. With a firm nod, she quickly devolved back into her professional persona. "Where do you want me for this fight?" she asked seriously.
Harry smiled, pleased to see that Ginny could regain her professional demeanour so easily. "Please fall back as well," he told her, before giving her a serious stare. "Only interfere if I give the word, understand? We cannot be putting all of our pieces on the board from the get-go in this fight. Riddle is far too dangerous."
Ginny nodded, before remembering to tell him about Neville. "Harry, N-Neville, he…" she started, before he quickly used his hand at her chin to put his index finger on her lips, silencing her.
He gave her a melancholic nod. "I know," he assured her. He did, too. Being one of the most magically-sensitive members of the Armed Forces, he had felt his friend's death the second it had happened. It had nearly made him drop the shield. "Susan took care of his killer," he informed Ginny in turn.
Ginny nodded back. "Good," she said grimly. She then stood to face him, got on her toes, and gave him a soft peck on the lips. "For luck," she told him with a grin before again making her signature hand motion and whispering her escape incantation. "See you in a bit, darling. Avolo!"
Smiling at the kiss his darling wife had given him before disappearing, Harry watched as the pillar of magic surrounding Hogwarts Castle gradually dissolved. The more it did, the more certain he was that Riddle had finally decided to come out and fight. More importantly, he was also certain that, given the man's seeming obsession with the Venati and immortality, he would fuse with a Venati as well. It was a death sentence, Harry knew, but he figured that Riddle didn't.
Watching the Venati horde forming on the grounds before him, Harry sighed. He would have to make things a bit more even, he supposed. Placing his hands together, palms flat and facing the ground, he gathered as much Venati magic as he could muster at the moment and channelled it to his hands, which he then proceeded to slam into the ground.
To Ginny's surprise, as she watched from the front lines, Harry somehow managed to pull off the blonde's technique that had nearly ended her life, had it not been for a timely jump.
Torment of the Underworld.
There was a major difference, though. Where Narcissa's spikes had been thick, numerous, and maybe ten feet tall, Harry's were thin, even more numerous, and easily fifteen feet in height. The result was that a veritable forest of needles had formed on the grounds, impaling Venati after Venati as they sprung up from the ground. The Venati that remained were, in his opinion, of a much more manageable number—and while they could refill their ranks via the portals, it would take time; time that Riddle didn't have to wait around.
Satisfied with his handiwork, Harry grinned as he felt the pillar of magic finally evaporate. Whatever Riddle had done, he was now finished. Carefully observing the castle, Harry's smile widened in anticipation as he saw the roof of the Great Hall suddenly explode and a small figure flew up into the air, slowly adjusting its trajectory towards him.
Harry grinned as he slid into a ready stance, arms morphing into blade form. His mind wandered back to his three-step plan that led to this moment.
Step one: Force Riddle to reveal his Venati forces ahead of schedule.
Step two: Kill his Lieutenants.
Step three: Eliminate his reinforcements at Serpent Fortress.
And now, for the final stage of his plan.
Kill Riddle.
With all the force of a meteorite hitting the earth, the ground where Harry stood exploded with tremendous force as the two leaders of the opposing armies finally clashed for the final battle of the war.
Post-A/N: Yes, only one of the fights was posted. Why? Two reasons: 1) I'm lazy as hell, and it's either this or get stuck waiting a month while I finish up every last essay and exam in this final semester of mine in University; and 2) Because when I first actually did attempt to write the other fights, I realized that they had no real impact on the overall final fight. The only reason I chose to write Narcissa vs. Ginny, for that matter, is because unlike Crouch or that other guy, I had actually introduced Narcissa as a fairly resilient and competent fighter previously, and I figured she thus deserved an actual, written conclusion to her life, as opposed to Messrs. "Crazy as Hell" Crouch and "Who's-that-guy?" Dolohov. Suffice to say, Susan beat the life out of Dolohov, and as shown, Crouch was completely schooled by Harry, after having been put through Pike's meat grinder-like skills.
All of this being said, however, I now have two important notices to give:
1. I have now officially put up a poll on my Author page for votes on which story I should put up next. The choices being offered are "Emperor" and "For King and Country." For summaries on both, check the Future Projects section in my profile.
2. A quick, review-based poll. I want to know: do any of you want Neville to come back? I know I said I killed him, but as this is fanfiction, and the Valkyrie Project seems still sufficiently shrouded in mystery, I figure I could pull out a somewhat rational explanation for why he didn't die. Mind you, his return to life in this case would be the very last time I would ever do this. Any time after this story, I will fully reserve the right to off anyone I want. I'm only doing it this time because the whole idea gave me a bad taste in my mouth, despite how necessary it was to have Susan go magically ape-shit on Dolohov's sorry arse.
Anyway, cheers. - MB
Glossary:
Kage Shibari - Shadow Bind (kudos to Narutoverse for this)
Oodama no Kaze - Wind Scythe
Kokuangyo no Mahou - Bringer-of-Darkness of Magic (again, inspired by Narutoverse)
Yes, I know I might have gotten some of these wrong. I fully admit to my suckage at Japanese.