CHAPTER 92: The Wrath of Olympus (Part 1)

London

9:00 p.m.

As the darkness of the night fully settled on the City of London, enveloping the mostly empty streets, Achlys stood atop the Big Ben watching it all with a broad grin. This wouldn't be his first time touring the landmark city of the British Isles, but it would definitely be the most memorable. To think that only a few months back he was looked at as nothing but a common snatcher, and now here he was, standing above all those who looked down on him, with an army of thirty or so men who would follow his every command.

It was good to be King.

He pictured all the others below him. Hiding along the streets, waiting for his signal before they unleashed hell onto the streets of London. He could see it as clearly as he would in just a few minutes. The burning. The corpses. The screams. The mere thought of it left him drooling. Aching. And once he began to picture it not just in London, but all over Britain, he couldn't contain the girlish giggles that came out of his mouth. How he wished he could see it all. Live it all. Somehow split himself into seven different people and experience every luscious second of it.

Achlys gripped his wand harder, forcing himself not to turn to his watch for the fiftieth time in the past ten minutes. The Dark Lord was smart in foregoing his political approach, which had only allowed the war to prologue itself for nearly a decade without any results. The Wizarding World couldn't be saved with speeches or campaigning. People couldn't be talked out of their weakness, they were already too dependent on the comfort it brought them. No, they needed to be reminded of what surviving really looked like. They needed to be forced into the furnace, only then would the truly weak perish while the strong would crawl their way out.

He felt a sudden intense pain spread across his left arm, the sensation crawling through his entire body until it reached the back of his neck. Achlys smiled, not even having to uncover his sleeve for him to know that this was Zeus' signal.

It was time to open everyone's eyes.

Achlys smirked, feeling the pain from his forearm lessen, if only slightly. It was now his turn to give out the signal to everyone else. He exploded into a cloud of smoke and flew through the sky, circling the Big Ben at unprecedented speeds, leaving a spring of darkness surrounding it. The city stopped below him. People gathered around the clock tower, and cars crashed against each other as the drivers tried to get a glimpse of the city's monument. Not even his own followers acted. They all watched. And once he saw that the streets were filled, once he felt their very fear expelling into the atmosphere, Achlys acted.

Still flying around the Big Ben, he pulled out his wand from his holster and began targeting the precise points along the clock tower where he had magically stuck his surprise boxes. He went from the ground to the very top, hitting each of them with blasting curses that caused colossal explosions of Fiendfyre. And as the enormous beasts began erupting from the collapsing clock tower, each of them charging in a different direction with nothing but the single-minded goal of scorching the entire city, that's when the screams finally started. The city exploded into chaos, quickly spreading from Westminster and into the whole city, no one was there to see as the four faces of the clock shattered into pieces just moments before it fully crumbled upon itself.

Achlys landed on the tallest building beside the remains of the Big Ben, cackling madly as he shook off the ash from his cloak and watched the city below him. His followers had joined him by now, with hundreds of curses lighting up the few dark parts of the city in a multi-coloured spectacle. All around the city, buildings crumbled to the ground as more corpses got added to the large piles on the street. And with Pyrites' gift showing no sign of stopping, with even more flaming creatures rising from the concentrated conflagrations throughout the city.

Of all the things he could have imagined of this night, none of them would have compared to the level of beauty before his eyes.

Achlys aimed his wand at the sky and shouted, "MORSMORDE!" A thick green lightning bolt exploded from his wand, reaching the night sky in a matter of seconds before it exploded into the Dark Mark. Never had he seen it in person, and no reading about it or even seeing the pictures could begin to describe the feeling. It was as if the mark emitted raw fear - something much stronger than anything he'd felt before. And for a moment, even Dolohov felt afraid. The sensation was disquieting, something he had never thought he'd feel again, but it quickly passed and he was once again himself.

Not a few moments after the Dark Mark hit the sky, a transparent green, almost liquid-like substance began forming all around it. It began surrounding the city, creating a dome that covered it fully in minutes. The moment the city was fully sealed, the sense of dread that came from the mark increased tenfold. And even as it affected him in small, occasional bursts, Achlys felt a surge of adrenaline spread through him as he thought of how it affected everyone else.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he sang as he walked to the edge of the building, his eyes scanning the streets below him. "It's time for your final lesson, Harry."

His eyes found his prey and Achlys grinned before letting himself fall from the top of the building, only to set off into a gust of black smoke right before he was about to hit the ground. He traversed the blood-filled streets, dodging the carnage and corpses before landing on his feet in front of a young woman carrying a small child.

"Oh, God," the woman cried as she looked at him. "Please, don't hurt my baby. Please. I'm begging. I'm begging, please!"

"I don't see you on your knees," he said with a cold edge before raising his wand. "CRUCIO!"

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

9:00 p.m.

The end of his day was nearing by the time the first report came in. Most of the Ministry workers had left home already, with the only ones still remaining inside being those who worked for the Auror Department, the Unspeakables, and the few janitors unlucky enough to have night duty. And though most of the Aurors there were already tired and clearly anxious about ending the day and returning home to their families, it quickly became apparent that they would not be given that chance. What started out as a small account of a potential breach of the Statute of Secrecy here in London had quickly turned into hundreds of different people claiming the city had turned into a full-on battlefield. And before long, they realised this wasn't just happening here in London.

"Manchester, Birmingham, West Yorkshire, Glasgow, Liverpool, South Hampshire - they're all saying the same thing, Head Auror," McLaggen stuttered, the once proud man looking like a terrified first-year. "This is a full-blown attack."

"Impossible," Wilkins shook his head. "This can't be us. No one has dared break the Statute of Secrecy in such a way, not even… not even the Dark Lord himself. It must be a muggle attack."

"There's Fiendfyre burning these cities to the ground," Tonks said fiercely. "We can't just stand here and talk. Head Auror, we need to do something!"

"Do something?" Dawlish asked. "What are we supposed to do? We don't even know how many there are!"

"The longer we argue about this, the more people die," Shacklebolt boomed.

"Silence!" Rufus shouted, using his wand to amplify his voice. "Gather yourselves. We're Aurors, for Merlin's sake. Not some whimpering children."

"But, sir," Runcorn stepped in. "We've never faced anything of this magnitude. Seven cities under siege… what are we supposed to do?"

Rufus didn't answer, not immediately at least. Albus could understand his plight, the difficult situation in which he was in as he was forced to lead and stand by his decisions. Any mistakes he made tonight would no doubt haunt him for the rest of his life, this wasn't a decision he could make in a matter of seconds. But still, that didn't matter to the others as slowly, every Auror in the room began turning their gaze away from Rufus and towards him. And by the time Rufus had finally something to say, he realised that everyone else was looking at him to lead.

It didn't matter that they had looked down on him for weeks, ridiculing him for his position. The Prophet may have been trying to slander his name for the past year, but still, during times of crisis, they looked up to him to take charge and save the day. Albus allowed himself to acknowledge that it made him feel good. That even after he had promised to leave aside all selfish ambitions for the good of the Wizarding World, he still couldn't help but feel a sense of pride about it.

But if he took the reins now, the Aurors would lose their faith in Rufus. They would lose their respect for him and instead, turn to Albus for the important decisions. And as much as he wished to take control of the situation, to climb the ranks within the DMLE and become someone with the power to give out orders… it was not what the world needed of him. It would be a vain act to please no one but himself. He had already failed Harry by spreading himself too thin and losing sight of what should have been his priorities. He was not making that same mistake once more.

Being the leader of the Order meant he couldn't be anything but a fellow soldier to the other Aurors. If anyone was to lead them, it should be Rufus.

"Head Auror," he said softly, gaining Rufus' attention. "What are our orders?"

There was an almost imperceptible switch behind Rufus' eyes right before the man gave Albus a discreet nod of respect. "Our priority is to contain the risk to the Statute of Secrecy. I'll make a call to the Department of Mysteries, and inform them of the situation so that the Unspeakables can create a perimeter around the cities and prevent risking exposure to the Muggles after all this is over. But they won't be able to enter the city and do their jobs until we do ours. You'll be split off into groups and sent into the cities under siege. Protect any and every civilian you spot - muggle or wizard. Minimize the chaos and damage and subdue the perpetrators. The situation looks dire, I know, and you are not wrong in being scared. But we have trained for a moment like this and tonight, everyone in Britain is relying on us to save them. Don't let them down."

There were a few solemn nods, no one in the room blinded to the fact that they might not make it back to their families at all after tonight. But as soon as Rufus gave the signal, everyone immediately went into action as they rushed to the lockers for their vests and prepared for the long night ahead of them.

"Albus," Rufus barked at him. "With me."

The two of them walked through the chaotic office, neither saying a word until they reached Rufus' office, where Amelia Bones was already waiting for them. "Gentlemen," she greeted them before immediately jumping to business. "The Dark Mark was spotted over London just a few minutes ago."

"This is Voldemort," Albus said calmly, and though Amelia looked as skeptical as he had expected her, Rufus nodded.

"After Azkaban, there is no doubt in my mind about it. But You-Know-Who has never been this brash. His plight has always centred around the dangers of Muggles. Risking the Statute of Secrecy in such a way is something he or his Death Eaters had never dared to do before. I'm not seeing his endgame with this."

"He isn't trying to break the Statute of Secrecy," Albus said.

Amelia's eyes perked up at that. "You think this is all a diversion, don't you? A way to hide his true goals for tonight?"

"Indeed," he responded wearily. Tom had had many goals over the course of the last few months, his latest visit to Nurmengard only complicating things even further. Albus didn't know for sure what Tom was after, but he did know that the threat presented was too large to ignore. Even with all the Aurors at the DMLE, it would barely be enough to fight an attack of this magnitude. He couldn't ask Rufus to spare Aurors to guard any of the locations Tom might target without sentencing countless people to death. Fortunately, he didn't have to. "I'm not quite sure of his goal, as well, but the best thing we can do is deal with these attacks quickly. It's only after the Death Eaters have been apprehended and the Unspeakables begin their job with ensuring the Statute of Secrecy is maintained that we can focus on Voldemort's primary objective."

"These attacks are massive in scale, Albus," Rufus spoke up. "If their opening salvo was using Fiendfyre to burn the entire cities down, I fear they'll have other aces behind their sleeves we won't notice until it's too late."

"I'll deal with the Fiendfyre as best as I can," Albus said. "You and the rest of your men focus on apprehending as many of the Death Eaters as possible. Once they begin losing numbers, they'll run in a panic. We have no time to waste."

"I agree," Amelia nodded. "I'll go to Manchester and lead the Aurors there, you stay here at London, Rufus. Albus, once you're done with the Fiendfyre head to Birmingham and take the lead there."

"And what of the other cities?" Rufus asked.

"Chose your most trusted men to lead, once we're done with the three biggest cities of the country, we'll converge in the other cities and provide back-up." She stopped for a second, adopting a pensive glance. "Single out a few of the less experienced rookies and instruct them to stay behind. We'll need someone here at the DMLE to avoid there being any more escapees or worse."

"You should stay," Rufus said, his voice holding a strange tone. "You would be a bigger help in here, helping us coordinate our efforts rather than being out there in the front lines."

"I'll be able to coordinate your men out there just as much as I can do it in here, Rufus."

"Amelia, you're the Head of the DMLE. It's not protocol for-"

"Protocol be damned," she said harshly. "I'll not stay in here hiding while the men under my command risk their lives for our country. We're at war here, Rufus, no one stays behind."

Grimmauld Place

9:00 p.m.

Aberforth was sitting in the living room, enjoying a nice cup of tea, his gaze lost into the embers of the fireplace, when he heard the footsteps behind him.

"My apologies," Grindelwald said, his words holding an eerie tone of truth to them. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

It had only been a week since Albus brought Grindelwald into Grimmauld Place, and yet, Aberforth felt it like a lifetime. The man seemed to be at every room, and when he wasn't, his footsteps were somewhere around him. He was sure he'd had more encounters with him than Albus had had in this little time. It had tempted him to return to his home. Loneliness was something that stopped bothering him many decades ago, he would rather take that over being stuck in the house with him. Alas, his brother needed him. Perhaps now more than ever. And whatever differences he and Albus may have, he would not let his brother down. Especially not when Grindelwald was there, whispering in Albus' ear.

"I'm not disturbed," he answered gruffly.

Even without taking his eyes from the fireplace, Aberforth could still feel that smug smile spread across Grindelwald's face. "You've never been a good liar, Aberforth." Grindelwald moved slowly across the room before taking a seat in the armchair a few feet beside the fire. "You still distrust me, I don't blame you. Perhaps, if it would be easier for you, I could try to convince Albus to find me accommodations elsewhere."

"No," Aberforth said immediately. "You're not leaving our sights. You're staying here, Grindelwald."

Grindelwald gave him a weird smile, almost pitying, which only served to fuel the rage inside Aberforth. Thankfully, the man didn't try opening a conversation again. Instead, the two men sat there in silence, with each occasionally taking a drink out of the cup. Unfortunately, it was too good to last, and Grindelwald spoke up again.

"I never offered my condolences for Ariana," he said morosely. "I apologise for that."

"Don't you dare," Aberforth gritted out. "Don't you speak her name!" Forcefully, Aberforth grabbed his cup and took a drink out of it. Wishing, as he did, that it had been liquor rather than tea. "You may not have killed her, but you're the reason she's dead."

"Yes… I am," he sighed. "I am truly sorry. I didn't just take away your sister that night… but I also destroyed your relationship with your brother."

"My relationship with Albus is none of your concern."

"You shouldn't blame him," he said, once again there was something ethereal about the calmness of his voice. "You said so yourself, I am the reason she's dead. Albus is nothing but a victim of Fate."

"No he wasn't," Aberforth said coldly. "Albus made his own choices well before that night. It was his obsession that made him cast that curse that night, not any interference by Fate."

"Perhaps," Grindelwald conceded. "But you have lived your life sheltered to the powers of the Hallows. You cannot begin to understand the hold they had on Albus. The hold they would have had on you if you had been the one the prophecy spoke of."

"The prophecy could have fit me just as much as it fit Albus, Grindelwald. Do you think I didn't strive for greatness? To have my name be as revered by the entire Wizarding World as the name of Merlin himself? Do you really think I chose to be a barkeep of a lowly pub because those were my life's ambitions? I wanted it all! Just as Albus did. The only difference is that when I learned what the cost of my hubris would be, I stepped back."

"And now Albus must pay his penitence for trying to outwit Fate… just as I must atone for what I did in the name of the Hallows."

Aberforth snorted bitterly. "The Hallows. First you, Grindelwald, and now Riddle. To think that, if Ariana's death hadn't been enough, that would have made three Dark Lords seeking them out in less than a century."

"It's no coincidence that Riddle is after the Hallows now," Grindelwald said, shamelessly avoiding the whole point Aberforth was making.

"Why?" Aberforth shook his head and rolled his eyes. "What is it about them that makes them any different from any of the other entries in the Macabre Manuscript?"

"I spent decades studying the Hallows. Even after my imprisonment at Nurmengard, Albus and I talked about them extensively. I dare say I know more about them than anyone alive, and yet, there are very few things I actually know about them. But I do know this: Every entry in the Macabre Manuscript, no matter how evil, was created by man. Every entry barring the Deathly Hallows."

Aberforth placed his cup on the table in front of him and finally turned to look at Grindelwald. "That's impossible."

"I'm afraid this myth is more fact than fiction."

"How can you possibly know that?" Aberforth demanded.

"Fate and Magic are not the only Theurgical Forces that can have an effect on our world. Death is just as real as any one of them. And just as Magic granted various creatures its power and Fate creates phoenixes for its chosen heroes - Death created the Hallows and left them to corrupt the hearts of men."

"You've got no proof."

"Each Hallow, once possessed by their master, becomes connected to the wizard's magical core at an unprecedented level. There's a reason why the Elder Wand is the only wand in existence that can be used by anyone who claims it. The power of the Hallows is only as strong as the raw magical power of the wizard who wields them. There is no spell, no potion, no magical item I have learned about that has that capability. The only similar thing I can think of is the relationship between a phoenix and its master."

"Then why then?" Aberforth pushed. "Why would Death itself, a Theurgical Force, create these Hallows and leave them behind?"

"Why does Fate create its prophecies? Why does it send a phoenix to aid its heroes?" Grindelwald asked calmly. "The Theurgical Forces are something we barely understand, and even in a thousand years, I doubt we'll know their intentions any better than we do now."

"Have you ever thought that this was just another excuse for everything that you did?" Aberforth asked gruffly. "A reason to justify the lengths you took to gather all three Hallows? Perhaps, if they were these mythical items - items created by a Theurgical Force itself - then everything you did was out of your hands? It would just be another step in whatever master plan Death has for them?"

"I'm not seeking to excuse what I've done."

"Yes, you are," he rebuked. "You may sit here, with your holier-than-thou attitude, pretending you changed, but the truth is that you haven't. You've only forgotten what it feels like to be truly obsessed. If I stole Albus' wand and placed it on the table here, you wouldn't hesitate in snatching it and renew your search for the Hallows again."

"I wouldn't," Grindelwald said, and for the first time in the whole week, there was a spark of anger behind his words.

"There's a difference, Grindelwald, between actually atoning for your sins by doing something of value and feeling sorry for yourself until you manage to convince yourself that you've actually changed."

Before either of them could say anything, the fireplace lit up as a blast of green fire enveloped it fully right before Albus stepped out from the flames. He looked at the both of them as if carefully analysing the situation, before saying gravely: "The Death Eaters are making their move."

As if to complement his words, the house suddenly shook. For a moment, Aberforth thought it might have been an earthquake before he heard the screams and pleas from the outside beginning to creep into Grimmauld Place.

"The Aurors are on their way," Albus continued, making his way towards the kitchen with both Aberforth and Grindelwald following him. "They'll hold off the attack, or at least they will as best as they can. We have another target."

"What is it?" Aberforth asked.

"The attack is not only centred in London, it's happening in six other cities as we speak. Every Unspeakable will be required outside the Department of Mysteries to control the risk to the Statute of Secrecy, leaving the Hall of Prophecies vulnerable."

"You think Riddle is going after the prophecy?"

"Not exactly," Albus said. "But we can't leave it unprotected. With the Hallows and Neville both out there, Tom could simply be using this play as a way for us to take our guard off both of those objectives. We'll have to station some Order members at the Ministry with others around Hogwarts."

"The Order won't like this," Aberforth said, and he could see Grindelwald nodding beside him. "Standing guard at an empty place while the Death Eaters are wreaking havoc over the country? What if Riddle wants you to think he has another endgame to stop you from helping stop the attacks."

"It's possible," Albus conceded. "Which is why I'll be helping the Aurors. But we still need people guarding the Ministry and Hogwarts, we can't risk Neville or the prophecy falling into the Death Eater's hands."

"Hogwarts is protected by its wards," Aberforth said. "There are Aurors inside their very walls. No Death Eater would be allowed to pass. Albus, unless you want the entire Order wanting answers for why we're not helping out more, you need to allow them to help around the cities under siege. And with everything that's happened, we don't have the luxury to divide the Order even further."

Albus started pensively at the kitchen table, his hand tracing its edges gently. "Very well. But there should at least be a group of four or five Order members protecting the Hall of Prophecies."

"I'll make sure of it," Aberforth said. "Where do you want me?"

"Kingsley has been handed West Yorkshire, leaving only Glasgow, Liverpool, and South Hampshire in dire need of aid."

"I'll take Glasgow then."

"What of the Hallows?" Grindelwald asked. "If Tom is searching for them, they need to be protected just as much as this prophecy."

"The Elder Wand will be safe with me, and the Cloak is well protected as well. As for the Resurrection Stone, I never managed to find it." Albus' eyes lit up. "You once tracked down the Elder Wand. Did you manage to do the same for the other Hallows?"

"Not precisely," Grindelwald confessed. "I had my theories. Possible families with whom they could have ended, but nothing concrete."

"Then stay here," Albus said. "Use my books and bring me the names and locations for the Resurrection Stone. If Tom is still focused on the Elder Wand, then he won't be looking for the stone. If we find it tonight, we'd be in possession of all the Hallows."

"And you're sure it's a good idea," Aberforth said carefully.

"No," Albus said after a pause. "Not fully. But the best hands for them are still our own. As long as no person has more than one Hallow the risk would prove lesser than it would if we let the stone remain out there in the wild for Tom to find."

Aberforth sought out something in Albus' eyes, anything to clue him in at any hidden agenda he may have for the Hallows. But either Albus had managed to finally learn how to lie to him, or the Hallows hadn't started messing with his head once again.

He pursed his lips. "Very well."

"Call in a meeting. Gather everyone and give them your orders," Albus turned to Grindelwald. "You know how to contact me, Gellert."

444 Warwick Way

9:00 p.m.

"I've looked everywhere, Regulus," Harry yelled at the portrait. "I'm telling you, wherever they are, they don't want to be found."

"Then, perhaps, you should stop searching," Regulus countered.

Harry had spent the entire day looking through every place where he might have found Elijah or Dolohov. He hadn't wasted his magic, not stupid enough to do so with Bedivere's haunting promise of a coming apocalypse, but still, he felt tired and drained from it all. It had taken him months to finally find Elijah, and even then, it had all turned out to be a ploy created by him. It hadn't taken long for Harry to realise that he would not find either Death Eater unless they wanted him to do so, but that didn't mean it didn't make him any less pissed off.

Regulus had been warning him against it, of course, reciting Bedivere's words to not play at their games anymore. But if he was the one hunting them down, he wasn't the one playing at their games. Or at least, that's what he told himself even as it proved obvious that everything that had happened ever since he escaped Grimmauld had been engineered by either of them.

"They must be at Azkaban," Harry mused out loud, pacing around the room as he tried to think of any other place they might be held up at. "Or some other headquarters the Death Eaters may have. Or what of the Knights? Elijah is one of them, and must have a base of operations."

"Harry, you're not thinking this through. Bedivere said the best thing you could do is hold off until all of this blows over, and, in this instance, I happen to agree with the man."

"No. He only said that I shouldn't go to the Ministry. He, better than anyone, knows that I'm not meant to simply stand by and wait around."

"I'm not saying you should do nothing. But you need to think about what you're doing before you actually go through with it. You need to start thinki-"

"Thinking like a Slytherin?" Harry snapped. "Is that what you were going to say? Because I'm getting real sick of that phrase."

"No, you need to start thinking, period. You can't go through life expecting everything to work out for you just for simply existing."

"Nothing works out for me!" Harry shouted, his words filled with venom. "No matter what I do or how much I think about it, everything blows up in my face by the end. And choosing to stay here and do nothing will only end the same way."

"How can you know if you have never tried it?" Regulus asked.

Suddenly, the ground below him shook. It felt like an earthquake, and the terrified screams from outside only seemed to back up that fact, but Harry knew better by now. Without looking back at Regulus, he apparated to the roof of the house only to be stunned by the image before his eyes. Dozens of flying curses lit up the surrounding streets, all of them seeming to converge at the Big Ben on the other side of the river. Before he knew it, the clock tower began exploding, with massive hellish creatures breaking out of it and laying waste to anything that stood in their way. A snake, a lion, a spider, and so many more were quickly overshadowed by the dragon that erupted right before the clock tower crumbled to the ground fully.

People were screaming, either pleading for mercy or cries of suffering. And as quickly as those fiery beasts blasted from the clock tower, the city began burning all around him. With each massive beast taking over a sector and doing everything to tear down any building that stood in their way. Suddenly, there was a distorted hiss from right beside him, and Harry only had time to turn and look at the enormous fire snake that had leaped at him. But right as he was about to apparate, the snake switched tracks and instead landed on the street in front of him.

He covered his face with his sleeve, managing to protect himself as his cloak took the brunt of the damage and was immediately set on fire. Harry took it off and threw it down the street just in time to see everything around him in flames. And yet, here he was. Standing. Untouched.

"What is it?" Regulus asked the moment he apparated back into the living room, and Harry was saved from answering as two cloaked figures appeared right in front of his window, casting a set of killing curses before they flew off into the darkness. "Merlin help us."

Harry ignored him, walking past the portrait as he headed for the suitcase that he'd left littered on the floor. He knelt down and grabbed a large black trench coat, one of Mrs Weasley's muggle clothes she had gifted him during the Winter Break. He had rarely used it, preferring his cloak to it, but given how that wasn't an option now, this was the next best thing in terms of how many things he could carry with him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Regulus asked when he saw Harry again, grabbing everything that remained from Bedivere's magically altered arsenal and putting it inside the many pockets of his trench coat. "You can't possibly be considering going out there."

"I'm going out there, Regulus," Harry said coldly. "The Death Eaters are out there, and unless someone stops them, they'll burn this entire city to the ground." He pocketed the rest of the items before something at the bottom of the box caught his eye. It was a knife - an ordinary knife, unlike Montague's, but one which had a lot of history for him. He had promised himself he would never use it again. Left it hidden all the way down there to avoid any temptations. And yet, Harry still grabbed it and holstered it behind his back.

"You can't be serious," Regulus said, disgust plain in his voice. "That knife only has one purpose, Harry, and you swore off it a long time ago."

"What am I supposed to do here, Regulus?" Harry snarled at the portrait. "You're not seeing what I'm seeing out there. This is not a game anymore! I'm already going with one hand tied back behind my back with this bloody wand," he threw Black's wand to the ground. "I'm not giving the Death Eaters any more advantage than they already have."

"Placing killing back on the table is wrong, Harry. You saw what it did to you last time. You may not be able to come back from it this time."

"Maybe not," Harry agreed. "But at least I'll come back breathing."

"Or you could stay here and not risk any of it at all," Regulus countered.

"If I stay here, countless people will die," Harry said. "And their blood will be on my hands. No. I'm not letting that happen. Not again."

"Harry, I get that you're angry-"

"I'm not angry," he shouted. "But Dolohov, Elijah, they're out there. I know they are. I couldn't kill them last time, but I will tonight."

Harry picked up Black's wand from the floor and made sure he had the spare one from the DMLE secretary in his pocket just in case. And after one last sneer at Regulus' portrait, Harry turned around, ready to apparate, before Regulus stopped him.

"This isn't about saving anyone. You won't care about the blood on your hands if you manage to make sure Dolohov and Montague's blood is staining it as well."

Harry slowly turned back to face Regulus. "What is that supposed to mean?" He growled.

"Three months now, you have wasted yourself and tarnished your soul all just to fill this void you have. After Graham and then Sirius, I would have thought you'd learned that revenge won't do anything about it. It will just drive you further down the pit. So if you want to go out there and kill them, then that's your business. I can't stop you, not really. But don't pretend you're doing it to save lives. This isn't about being a hero, it isn't even about honouring your parents or Susan. It's all about you getting what you want in the end."

"Spare me," Harry spat.

"Who will be next, Harry?" Regulus called out to him, but this time, Harry didn't turn around. "After Dolohov and Montague, who else will you try to kill to fill your void? How many more people will it take for you to realise it won't change anything?"

Harry didn't answer, instead, he apparated away into the blazing hell that had become London.

That's it for this chapter, thank you all for reading!

Welcome to the GRAND FIFTH-YEAR FINALE! Sit back and enjoy, we're going to be here a while ;)

By the time I'm posting this, I'm ELEVEN chapters ahead, and have just started the third arc of the THREE-ARC FINALE titled The Only One He'll Ever Fear! If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT

As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)