Shout at the Devil

by MalcolmTent6730

Magic wasn't real. That's what Ryan Black was told for most of his life. It was a truth he believed until about a week after his eighteenth birthday, when he was contacted by his dead dad's estate about his own. Being born a squib he had no reason to be informed, except for a small gift his old man left him. Evil pieces in Harry Potter. AU Hogwarts University. Eventual OC-Multi,

44. Chapter 44

June 1st 2013, Room of Requirement , Hogwarts, Scotland, 8:00 AM BST

"So, this thing is cursed, right?" I said, holding up the ring. It hadn't tried to kill me yet (not that I thought it could) so whatever had been done to it required it to be worn, most likely. I flexed my mind in a familiar way, shifting into the magical spectrum to view the spells woven into the thing. I saw the curse, but…nothing else.

"Quite perfidiously," he said with a cheery smile. "Tom may not have ever been as talented as Gellert, but he was always much crueller. Gellert's cruelty was of dispassion and dismissal. Tom always took his acts of spite much more personally."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I know, Voldemort used to be a sad lad who didn't get any hugs from mommy and whose dad got date raped. Then he grew up and murdered his grandparents and framed his uncle for it. I think we've moved past the 'find the good inside him' phase. Though I'm curious. You bought the story about him being alive relatively quickly. Did you suspect?"

Stepping forward, I focused on the room, pushing my intent, and a marble pedestal appeared, covered in arcane symbols of restraint and suppression. I set it down neatly, then stepped away, keeping an eye out for surprise attacks until I started feeling stupid because it was a ring.

He turned to stare at me, piercing blue eyes hard and searching. Finally, glancing back at the ring, he sighed. "The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches," he intoned flatly. " Born to those who have thrice defied him. Born as the seventh month dies. And the dark lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the dark lord knows not."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Ok…if that was your attempt at slam poetry it needs work. Maybe add some rhyme scheme, oh, and make it like…a thousand percent less creepy."

"Would that it were," he said with a sad smile. "That was, in fact, a prophecy. Issued from the mouth of our very own divination professor, to me in fact. I'm sure I don't need to share my suspicions as to its subject?"

"Harry," I said bluntly. "The mark thing gave it away. Why are you telling me this?"

He studied me with a sad, weary look. "I used to believe that the power that the prophecy spoke of was love. Tom was a sad, lonely boy, and despite having every reason to be the same, Harry blossomed into a strong and compassionate young man. Having met you, and seen your impact on his life, I am more sure than ever that love will be that power. And I believe it will come in the form of you."

"Harry's got pretty eyes, but he's not my type," I deadpanned. "Not enough junk in the trunk."

"Yes, your fondness for large bottomed women is well documented by the student body," he said dryly. "But as I believe you well know, I wasn't speaking of romantic love. I spoke of the love you share with Blaise, and Theodore, and Tracey, and Hannah. The love you share with Sirius, and with your other new friends, to a lesser degree. The love of family. A love that Harry never knew until he arrived here, in no small part thanks to myself."

The last was said in a self deprecating tone, but I noticed he didn't seem GUILTY exactly. Just…sad. Like he regretted the necessity but not the act. Albus Dumbledore was the kind of man to regret having to kill you as he stuck a knife in your heart, but he'd still stab you if he thought it was warranted. The fact that he made that comment though, made me aware that I'd changed his mind about at least some of this.

"So you think I can help him kill Voldemort. That's fair, I've been trying." I paused. "Wait is this why you sent me to France? You were worried I might distract him from his destiny?" I put a sarcastic emphasis on the last word, but he ignored it.

"It was," he said candidly. "When you returned from Paris with the locket, however, I as good as confirmed your intentions as honorable. I must admit, Mr. Black, that you are capable of feats I myself do not fully understand, and I am much more learned than Tom, if I might be so arrogant as to admit it. You, I truly believe, are Harry's power. The one the dark lord knows not."

I snorted. "The power of the love of an adopted cousin who is good at charms. Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair."

He cocked an eyebrow, "You sound as if you're quoting something."

"Shelley," I said with a smile. I'd loved that poem as a kid. It appealed to my sense of grandeur. " And on the pedestal these words appear, my name is Ozymandias, king of kings. Look upon my works ye mighty, and despair. Nothing beside remains."

"Fascinating," he mused. "I daresay I should look into muggle poetry a bit more closely. I'd always been a bit too busy before, but I find myself with a surplus of time these days." He glanced down at his younger form ruefully.

I shrugged. "Well, after this, you'll probably waste hours a day chatting up dead relatives. So that'll keep you entertained." I nodded to the ring, and his expression became solemn as he nodded. "Now, when you say this curse is 'perfidious' I assume you mean it'll be more dangerous than the others? I checked it out but I'm no curse expert."

"It is a horrifying withering curse," he sighed. "A concentration of the deepest death that I suspect he must have learned from the necromancers. I've never seen such a disgusting magic. It is, of course, anchored to the Horcrux itself, rather than the ring. As you may have noticed, that ring gives off not a trace in the magical spectrum. The power it possesses is beyond our feeble gaze to detect."

"You'll need to hold it off," I cautioned him. "My new staff will make the black burn easier, but I still need to concentrate. Especially with an object like this. I have a feeling that I'll need to put quite a bit into this."

He drew the elder wand, twirling the gnarled wood between graceful fingers, with a cold smile. "I assure you, Mr. Black. I do not require instruction in this matter. In point of fact, you could perhaps learn something from my efforts. If you can afford to watch, I'd advise you to do so. It is never late to learn new things." Flicking his wrist, the world began to change as Mundi ad Belum unfolded around us, extending further than any of our lessons. "Now," he said as the spreading warzone reached the pedestal. "Begin."

Holding out my hand, I called for my staff. Sanguine Rose erupted from within itself, using me as a medium as it flashed into the air beside me. I snatched it effortlessly from its fall, pulling hard on the demonic energy inside.

A flex of the particle method let me split off a particle, and I shoved more energy into it, expanding the sphere of demonic power into an orb the size of a wrecking ball even as I lit it.

The black flame consumed the orb as an eruption of dark magic (literally the antithesis of light) erupted from the ring, screaming toward us in the shape of a horde of hooded monstrosities. "Are you fucking KIDDING me?" I screamed as I whirled my staff, the orb scything out in a tight arc to erase the front line of fucking DEMENTORS.

As the wrecking ball hit the Dementors, it flared, and their hooded forms were consumed in black flame, burning to ash. I laughed joyfully as I felt their monstrous nature slam headfirst into my mental manipulation defenses, the same ones that protected me from Veela allure. My laugh cut off though, when I noticed the fucking sphere getting smaller as they burned.

There were dozens of them, and Dumbledore had staggered as they came out, Mundi ad Bellum buckling though not breaking as he fell under their influence. With a roar of defiance, he waved his wand, and a massive silver phoenix burst free, encircling him with its wings and driving back the ones that got through.

"Fuck this!" I snarled. I slammed my staff down, and fifteen forms materialized, my Dremora guards, all of them. "Coat your blades in demonic energy and light them up." I thundered, gesturing at the orb.

They did so, and the blades barely drew any of the flame to catch, the Dremora blurring forward to wield the weapons against my enemies. The sole exceptions were my Bishops, who wore gaudy dark robes and carried long staves, and those waved threateningly, erecting bulwarks of magic in front of their companions.

As I watched, dementors fell by the tens, burning blades cleaving their ghostly forms, the remnants burning up like dry twigs as the black burn caught. I ignored it once I saw that, I had more to do. I hurled the orb up, then brought it down in an arc, smashing it straight down on the ring.

A scream echoed through the room, the sound so loud it caused a tangible wave of force to knock me back a step. A familiar entity burst free, floating above the ring, red eyes wide with hate and rage. "NO!" screamed the remnant. "IT'S MINE! MY POWER! MY DESTINY!" The Horcrux seemed…solid, scary. Like the one from the journal but older and already twisted by dark magic.

"Why don't you suck MY dick?" I called petulantly, and then I tore my staff upward, jerking the fireball into the Horcrux.

It screamed like a wounded cat, thrashing and wailing, flinging its arms and calling for the dementors. One of them came close, and my hand shot out, grabbing at around the neck. It felt gross and cold, but didn't drain away my happiness, the effect doused by my protections. Casually yanking my arm aside, I tossed the bastard at a Knight (I'd call him Knight 1, he earned it) and he bisected the monster, letting it burn away.

Finally, the screaming ended. As it did, the remaining dementors (only like five of them) just…disintegrated. I shrugged, turning to Dumbledore. The ground around him was warped and blackened, not by fire but by decay. The curse had been using Dementors as its form, but it WAS a withering curse. The burning just hadn't given them a chance to actually wither anything.

I was actually kind of glad they hadn't rotted my hand, I'd maybe made a tiny mistake showing off like that. It was fine though, it was over. I strolled over to the ring, picking it up to study it, wondering if it was damaged.

Dumbledore limped over, unharmed but clearly exhausted from the battle. When he saw the ring though, he froze, eyes locking onto the black stone like a tractor beam had hold of them.

I studied it for a second, then, with a pause, tossed it to him. "There you go," I said with a smile. "Deal's a deal. Don't lose that thing now, you hear me?"

He swallowed loudly. "I…I shall not. I assure you. Mr. Black, this gift was…it means more to me than I can express. Thank you. Truly, and from the bottom of my heart. Should you need my assistance with your own matters in the future, you have but to ask."

Laughing, I shook my head. "Honestly, I think you'll regret making that offer. But I accept either way." Waving my staff, I recalled my summons, noting the old man very deliberately DIDN'T ask where they came from. GUess that was him showing some trust. I sighed internally. I supposed I'd have to fill him in at the same time as Nicholas. If he was going to be my backup at some point, he'd probably better know what he was getting into.

June 20th 2013, Hogwarts Grounds , Hogwarts, Scotland, 8:00 PM BST

"So, this is the setup for the third task, huh?" I asked as we stared down at the massive hedge maze. "I'm worried about this. My instincts are screaming at me that something is coming. I can't even figure out from WHERE, because it gets worse by the day. Constant anxiety and stress from all sides. I don't get any peace anymore. My nerves are frayed to breaking, I'm jumpy, cranky, and my Wrath has been slowly encroaching on all my other sins."

Devils were prone to anger issues. My usual outlet for my sinful nature was lust. My girls were gorgeous, and sexy, and fun, and they kept my head on straight. But I'd been so angry lately even sex hadn't been helping.

Daphne took my hand, smiling softly. "We understand," she said with a squeeze. "We don't let you get AWAY with it when it's not deserved, but we know what you're going through. We've been trying to help. I've had Lily and the girls scouring the school, talking to all the visitors, and Amelia has been interrogating all of the parties involved in the tournament. We'll find SOMETHING."

"Val can't make heads or tails of that Horcrux in Harry," I admitted. "We've convinced him to sit for observation a few times, and she's got nothing. Apparently the Black Burn is one of the only methods of soul attack anyone knows of, and it's pretty indiscriminate. The killing curse is the other one, but it…you know, kills you."

Apparently, there was NOT copious research on how to excise small portions of the soul. The only other idea we'd had was to have Harry make his OWN Horcrux, hopefully using the process to split Voldemort's fragment off him, but since you needed to murder an innocent to do that, it seemed like a no go. Val was currently engaged in some research with Solomon trying to recreate the process in a more palatable way, but they weren't having much luck.

All this would have been fine, except for my constant crippling dread that something was going to happen very soon. I felt like we needed to fix Harry as soon as possible if we wanted to get through…whatever the fuck was coming.

Divination, sadly, wasn't helping at all. I'd thrown bones, runes, wands, drawn tarot, checked tea leaves, read the entrails of birds, charted the stars, and even tried a few weird and obscure divination rituals (like one norse style that involved spoken word poetry) and they all came back the same. Death. Death was coming. Which was inherently fucking unhelpful, because that wasn't actually an ANSWER to anything.

She put a hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You can handle it. Think how much stronger you are now. Anything that comes at us has to deal with you."

"I HAVE gotten stronger since hitting mid-class," I admitted. "But my sixth sense has improved too, and it still seems pretty sure that whatever is going to go down is going to kill someone important to us. I've been over all the information, and so has Dumbledore. We're positive Voldemort has someone involved in the tournament, but whoever they are, they're laying low. If we find the traitor we might be able to prepare, but Dumbledore has vetted everyone. He's either known them for years or had them followed and investigated by pros, and no one is showing any holes."

While I'd been distracted by one thing or another all year, Dumbledore was on top of things at his school. Granted, he hadn't managed to actually figure out the issue, but he'd been trying. I'd tried divination, but the cloud of ill omen over the school made pretty much everyone come back as a potential threat. It was deeply frustrating, and made me sympathize with all the prophecy haters out there. Divination wasn't a science, it was an art, and I was still learning to finger paint.

My eyes narrowed as I stared down at the hedge maze. Every wizard growing a bush, ever monster dragged inside, ever curse and trap, they all seemed suspicious. But that was the problem. The purpose of them was to stop us, to harm us.

Daphne stepped behind me, her hands going to my shoulders as she pressed her thumbs into the muscle, kneading and working them. I groaned at the sensation, enjoying the brief respite. "Perhaps," she breathed in my ear. "I ought to call Granger. Maybe the two fat arses you love to fuck most can get you out of this funk. I do hate to share with her, but if my love needs to destress…well I've got some oil we can use."

I groaned, laughter bubbling up. "I appreciate that, love. More than you know. And the thought of it does drive me a little crazy, but I think I'd better stay focused. We only have four days until the task. Once we survive what's coming I'll spend a weekend wrecking your asses until neither of you can sit for a week, but for now I suspect my heart wouldn't be in it."

"Well no, but you could put something else in it," she purred. "Even so, I can wait." She leaned up to kiss my neck. "Just don't make me wait too long. I'm still calling Granger though. That fat bottomed swot needs a good seeing to every so often or she gets recalcitrant. I'll be sure to collect the pensieve memories so you can enjoy the show." With a quick pinch of my ass, she turned and strode away, hips swaying in a way she knew I liked.

Smiling and repressing the urge to follow and fuck her senseless, I felt my head clear just a bit and thanked her mentally. Still, I had other, less fun things to do tonight.

It had been weeks, months even, since my talk with Gaunter, and we hadn't found any way to get rid of the Horcrux in Harry. We'd run out of options, and with the bad vibes on the horizon, I officially needed to talk to Sirius. It was time to bring my uncle in on things.

Dumbledore and Flamel were both read in on the existence of devils, and had been working alongside Natasha, Valkyrie, Skulduggery, and Solomon on the project, and despite all tube experts we'd consulted, we'd hit a brick wall. I'd hoped to spare my uncle the dire news, but that wasn't going to be possible.
So…with a heavy heart, I opened a circle, and stepped through into Grimmauld Place…only to find a rather more…explicit scene than I'd expected.

"Shit!" snapped Val as she dove to cover herself. "What the actual fuck, Ryan? Ever heard of knocking? You know I visit my boyfriend at night!' She'd snagged a throw off the couch to cover her nakedness, but it didn't do much for the rest of the tableau.

I blinked at her, averting my eyes, though they stopped on the way to take in the very naked redheaded milf strapped to the chair in the middle of the room. "Sorry," I apologized with a clearing of my throat. "I figured your alone time would take place in the bedroom."

"Well clearly it DOESN'T!" she spat. "I'm dressed now, you can look.

I turned back, noting that Amelia was definitely NOT dressed, though Sirius, too mortified to speak, was covering himself with a pillow. "I, uh…I thought you weren't willing to share him with her?"

Val sniffed loftily. "She appealed to my human decency. She wants a baby, and I'm too young for kids. Sirius likes the idea, even if he wouldn't admit it. So I'm letting him get her pregnant. I get to preside over the whole process, and I'll admit to being at least slightly enamored of her colossal cow tits. I get to play with her in exchange for my blessing." Her hand flicked, a riding crop I hadn't noticed cracking on Amelia's exposed nipple. "Isn't that right, cow?"

"Moo," growled Amelia through gritted teeth.

"You gonna cover her?" I asked her archly. "This is honestly kind of confusing for me, sexually. Given Suzie's issues with people finding her aunt attractive."

She shrugged. "She's got a nice body. Look if you want. It's mine for the night, and you are my boss." Sirius cleared his throat and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, she likes it. But fine." She snagged the throw she'd covered herself with until she could get dressed and tossed it over Amelia's head like she was an old couch. "There, the wicked boobies are covered, you absolute children. You shant be tempted anymore."

I smirked at Sirius. "I always knew she was the one wearing the pants in your relationship."

"Actually, most of the time no one is wearing pants," Val said sweetly. "They just get in the way. Now, what exactly do you want, I've got a mouthy ministry bitch to discipline before my beloved impregnates her."

Her tone was…odd. Lusty, sure, but also kind of sad. It occurred to me that she might have other reasons for allowing this. Really thinking about how hard it would be for her to have children of her own probably made her reconsider. I'd certainly thought about that. While Sirius had a better chance of fathering a child with her than another devil, it was still a long shot. Amelia, however, would be ripe and ready.

As if reading my mind, her eyes narrowed, and I decided to focus on her question. "I need to talk to Sirius." I grimaced apologetically. "I'm pretty sure he's not going to be in the mood when we're done."

Her face paled. "You're not…Ryan that's-"

"Not your fault," I said firmly. "He knows how we work. I gave an order to keep it quiet, and as your King you have to obey. Especially since I hit mid-class. He's not going to blame you for keeping it secret, I'll make sure of it. Take Amelia upstairs and have your fun. Might distract you from our talk."

She bit her lip, shooting a terrified, sick expression at Sirius. Finally, she nodded, levitating the chair and sheet with Amelia under it out of the room.

"Sorry," I said with a sigh. "I'd have waited until tomorrow, but we're on something of a clock here. We've been trying to solve the problem, but a deadline of some kind is looming. You deserve the truth."

He stared at me cautiously. "What's this about, Ryan? Why would I be upset at Val?"

"You wouldn't," I said firmly. "I was being very truthful about that. It's not her fault, and she's been running herself ragged trying to help. Trying to fix it for you." And then I told him. Everything. The Horcruxes, Harry, Gaunter's comment, our research. I let it all spill out, and when I was done, I just sat and waited.

His eyes were cold and angry, but he didn't speak, just glared at me with gritted teeth. Then, finally, he closed them and took a deep breath. "You know, of all the things to inherit from Reggie, his stupid need to solve problems himself without coming to me is probably the worst trait I can think of."

"You don't seem as mad as I expected," I said slowly.

"Oh, I'm livid," he said bluntly. "But I'm also grateful. You've clearly been busting your arse to try to find a way to help. Of course, if you'd confided in me I could have taken you to the family library. The REAL family library, not the one we keep upstairs for public use. It's damned frustrating to know you wasted so much time because you didn't trust me."

I blinked at him in shock, opening my mouth, and he held up a hand. "Don't. Not tonight. It's late. Tomorrow I'll take you down to look around. For tonight…go home Orion. I'll get over it but I'm not very happy with you right now. Give me some time."

Turning to walk away, he stopped, smirking at me conspiratorially. "You sent her upstairs to keep Amelia warm. You knew I'd have some aggression to work off. That kind of sneakiness, you get from me. See you tomorrow, nephew mine." His face smoothed back out as he turned to head upstairs. Sometimes, it was really obvious Sirius was my uncle.

June 24th 2013, Hogwarts Grounds , Hogwarts, Scotland, 6:00 PM BST

Today was the day. Half a week of research hadn't uncovered anything else about Harry's problem, and I felt a sick knot of dread in my gut. Something was coming, and my one chance to avert it had passed me by. Today, someone I cared about would die. I knew it. I FELT it. The traitor remained elusive, the task was here, and all I could do was stay on my toes and hope all my new power was enough to make a difference.

Harry smiled at me from where we waited to be led to our respective entrances to the maze. "Wow, look at you. You're shaking in your boots huh? I never thought I'd see the day the great Ryan Black would piss himself over a school contest."

Despite the severity of the situation, that got a surprised chuckle from me as I raised an eyebrow at the boy-who-lived. "Well, look who grew a spine. Looks like you get mouthy when you're getting sniz on the reg."

His face twisted into a grimace. "Please don't refer to it like that. Besides, aren't you the horrified big brother? I'd have expected talking about Gabi's and my sex life to be traumatic for you."

I shrugged. "I was mostly joking around. But given your sappiness and Gabi's personality your love life probably involves romantic music and candles. It's much less graphic than my mental image of the sick shit Stori probably lets Blaise do to her, and YES I know that's hypocritical. Besides, you know I play it up for her because it makes her feel loved."

He just laughed. "Still, you're not wrong. Gabi gives me confidence…as does Hilda."

"Shit!" I snapped. At his confused look I just rolled my eyes. "Tracey bet me ten galleons you were going to fuck Hilda soon. I was sure Gabi would wait until July and make it a birthday present. Now she has to buy you something too. Wasted opportunity."

"I told her she shouldn't wait," chimed in Fleur from where she was stretching distractedly off to one side. "That poor little milk maid deserved a little happiness."

I rolled my eyes. "Tracey cut you in on her winnings, didn't she?"

"Half," she said with a cocky smirk. "Easiest money I've ever made." She smirked at Harry. You're welcome by the way, I don't suppose you could show your gratitude by letting me win?"

"Sure," challenged Harry. "You can win second place. I've been training my arse off for this. Don't think this is going to be as easy as the others. I've been working with Sirius and Natasha both."

Krum sat awkwardly off to one side, leaning against the bush wall, trying to seem inconspicuous. I honestly thought it was kind of funny, badass quidditch pro too uncomfortable to banter. Admittedly our topic was kind of personal, so I could see how it would throw him, but I'd have thought someone with his experience would be used to pre-game psychouts.

I was actually kind of grateful to Harry, because this little back and forth had eased some of my worry, gotten me reacting instead of thinking. He was good at picking up what people were feeling, even if he didn't really verbalize it. I knew that people in abusive situations learned to read others as a survival mechanism, so maybe that was why he was so perceptive.

"Thanks," I told him, interrupting his banter with Fleur.

He just shrugged. "No idea what you're talking about," he said airily. "I was just trash talking. I'm told it's proper form before a challenge."

Before I could respond, a loud sound cut us off, a cleared throat. We all turned to see Moody looking unamused. "If you'd all be so kind, I'm meant to lead you to your entrances. Potter, I'll take you personally." He flicked his wand a few times, and a trio of light orbs appeared. "You three follow the wisps."

I narrowed my eyes at the grizzled man, but decided not to make a big deal of it. I knew he'd helped Harry out in the second task, hinting at a way for him to win. A bit of advantage for Harry wouldn't hurt. He had no chance of beating me anyway.

Still, I wasn't willing to leave him defenseless. Reaching into myself, I tagged Bishop one with a quick message through the staff. After he cloaked himself, I summoned him, then for good measure summoned Bishop two after he did the same. Each of them took off after one of the champions, Bishop one on Harry and Bishop two on Fleur. Hopefully nothing was going to try to kill Krum, because he'd be out of luck, but I felt better knowing my people were safe.

Once that was done, I turned and followed the blue light orb off down the side of the maze, circling around the corner and down the eastern edge of the colossal maze. It led me around to a small entrance in the corner of the maze then stopped.

"Thanks," I said to the construct. "Am I supposed to tip you or…" It didn't move or respond. "You're not sentient, right. No reason to interact with an unintelligent ball of light. Why am I still talking to you?"

Annoyed, I turned and walked into the maze. As soon as I was inside, I summoned my staff, enjoying the feel of the heavy dark wood anchoring me. My instincts had started screaming at me as soon as I got inside. Something was here. Something dangerous even to me. As I stepped into the maze proper, I heard a crunch.

Looking down, I saw that the grass was all dead, and more than that, a thin green mist clung to it. Cursing, I immediately cast a bubblehead charm, opening a circle on the top of my mouth leading to a place with fresh air.
"Gods damn it," I opined out loud. "What are the chances that I'd run into THIS bullshit?" I saw a slight flicker of movement and whirled, trying to track it. All I caught was a dark tail vanishing behind a bush. A very LARGE dark tail.

Shaking my head, I slammed my staff down, reaching out with my new mid class power as I manifested a twenty foot Asclepius. It curled around me, acting as a protective barrier, and I smirked as I saw the poison mist boil off of the heavy acidic water. "Well?" I called lazily. "You going to try something?"

A dark blur exploded from the bushes, slamming headlong into the snake and then practically bouncing off as it hurled itself away, hissing furiously. The monster glared at me viciously, baring massive fangs. A giant pitch black jungle cat the size of a fucking bus, the rotten green mist leaking from its mouth as it exhaled.

"A fucking NUNDU?" I demanded, looking around like there was someone to answer for this. "You assholes put a NUNDU in a college tournament? I know wizards are 'post-logic' but this is just fucking ridiculous." I flicked my wrist, sending the serpent after it. The Nundu snarled, trying to bite the snake, then rearing back in pain as the acidic water burned its mouth. It roared, batting at its mouth with its paws as it tried its best to put out the burning pain.

It was so distracted it didn't even notice me approaching. I extended some of my necromantic power from my staff into a long whip like tendril that encircled the monster's neck, then wrapped it around one arm to get a good grip. With a hauling yank, I snapped its neck with my raw strength, the beast falling limply to the ground.

A quick wind spell banished the mist, and I dismissed the bubble head charm as I stared down at the cat regretfully. "Sorry kitty," I told it guiltily. "I don't like just putting you down like that, but you're too dangerous to leave loose in here with my people. Now. If this is the kind of bullshit they stocked this place with, I'm done fucking around."

Turning, I sent my massive serpent of water smashing into the bushes. They'd clearly been reinforced magically, but they still hissed a bit. I drove it forward with more and more power until I'd burned a hole straight through the hedge.

Then I set off for the center of the maze. No holding back, no taking my time. I was going to bash my way through this fucking maze until I found the end and hopefully identified whatever was a threat to my friends. I just had to hope my Bishop Dremora could protect them until they met back up with me.

I ended up being glad I sent them. The fucking maze ended up being way more terrifying than expected. Ogres, harpies, a giant talking ferret with metal fur and venomous fangs, it had pretty much everything.

It took me about twenty minutes to carve my way through it, and when I stepped out into the center, I was unsurprised to be alone. All that was here was a single cup made of gold sitting on a pedestal. A cup that I felt a terrifying sense of danger seeping out of. Something was wrong with it.

Oddly though, I felt something else. Opportunity. My instincts were screaming it might be my only chance to kill Voldemort once and for all. As I considered it all, a bunch of things fell into place. Moody. The behavior before the task was suspicious. I'd written it off because he was trying to help Harry win, which seemed counter to trying to get him killed. But if the cup was trapped…he was the only possibility.

He'd been too omnipresent at Harry's side in the tournament for a stranger. Helping with the second task, leading him away to what was undoubtedly an easy start at the third. Thinking back on it, a fucking Nundu waiting for me as soon as I entered was suspicious as hell. I'd been winning every task. Arranging for me to get got by a poison cat on entry would solve that problem.

Which meant I had options here. If Harry was supposed to grab the cup it probably wasn't just cursed. If Moody wanted to off him, he could have just done that. My guess was either some sort of imprisonment or transportation. Probably the latter, since again, he could have imprisoned him elsewhere.

This cup was probably a portkey. I felt like a fucking idiot for missing so many signs of malicious intent from that ugly bastard all year. Without the context to know what their plan was all his actions looked beneficial.

Harry would be here soon. So would Fleur. And somebody was supposed to die tonight. It wouldn't be me, I could handle myself, but it COULD be one of them. If I let them get here the cup would spirit them away, and if I prevented it we'd lose a chance to kill Voldemort. A chance we might never get again.

Stepping forward, I raised my staff and called up the densest, most powerful shield I could manage. A fucking Bulwark of arcane force that would stop a freight train. I'd woven necromancy through it, so even the killing curse wouldn't budge it.

This would be enough, and none of these idiots could stop me from teleporting. With that finished, and following an instinct that I barely understood telling me this NEEDED to happen, I reached out and grabbed the cup. I felt a familiar jerk behind my navel as my feet left the ground, and I knew I'd been right.

Despite the terrible situation though, I trusted my instincts. What I believed was a nascent clan trait that let me see the future had pushed me to this. I needed to do this. No other option would get me the right outcome. As my feet hit the ground, a wave of spells and power smashed into my shield, but it all held strong. As it cleared, I glanced around at the graveyard I was now standing in, surrounded by hooded figures as far as the eye could see. Go home instincts, you're drunk.

June 24th 2013, Cemetery, Little Hangleton, England 7:00 PM BST

"ENOUGH!" Roared a shrill but familiar voice. The spells ceased, instantly. "Bring me forward," commanded the high pitched hiss.

One of the figures, a squat and overweight man with a ratlike face, emerged from the crowd. He didn't have a wand out, and instead, held…something. It was tiny and malformed, pale skin and red eyes, and it took me a second to put together what I was looking at…and then start laughing.

"YOU DARE?" Shrieked the demon baby. "You dare mock me when it was your efforts that led me this end?"

I choked back my cackles. "You're a wee little baby man!" I crowed, nearly doubling over in mirth. "The great lord Voldemort, can't even hold your own head up? Can you digest solid food yet or does your rat bitch have to pre-chew it for you?"

His eyes snapped to the man, who based on description might have been my uncle's old school friend Peter, the cowardly bitch ass rat shifter who sold out Harry's parents. "Wormtail," he hissed in simmering fury. "I wanted POTTER! I require the sacrifice of my greatest enemy, of the pathetic mewling whelp who bested me as a child. I must redress my shame."

"I've heard that's a problem for babies," I said, holding back a smirk. "I'd try some diaper cream, you might get a rash."

"KILL HIM!" Squealed the malformed monstrosity. I cursed, focusing on the shield as I pulled hard on my staff. Another storm of magic rained down on me. I grinned as my every escape route was covered by mystical attacks. The casters closed in, hoping proximity would boost their effectiveness. Waving my staff, I called forth my magic, specifically, Fiendfyre. I made sure to barely contain it, letting it yank and strain at the leash of my intent.

When I was sure I couldn't be seen, I opened a circle, stepping through it and emerging on a hill overlooking the cemetery as the shield dropped. There was a pause as the whole world went silent, the attacks ceasing as they realized they weren't hitting defenses anymore and waited for the smoke to clear.

Sadly for them, they'd inched closer to confirm my death, and the explosion of sentient green flame that roared forth from the spot where I'd been, consuming a dozen of the hooded bastards as they screamed in flesh destroying agony.

"FOOLS!" Shrieked mini-Mort. "FIND HIM! FIND HIM FOR ME NOW!"

A figured stepped from behind a nearby mausoleum, surveying the damage clinically. "Well, this seems to be going poorly for you. I must say, it's sad to see such a brilliant researcher in such an undignified state."

Shit. Bermuda was here. Shifting my staff, I reached through it to my plane. Calling out, I manifested thirteen Dremora behind me, leaving only the two that had been set to watch Harry and Fleur. I had a feeling they might need them. What I did NOT expect, however, was for the connection to my pocket dimension to be forced open as MORE people shoved themselves through.

Fifteen more. I cursed as my entire peerage materialized in front of me, all of them armed for bear and ready to throw down.

"Hey guys," I said tightly. "Not a GREAT time for you to be here. I've got this handled, why don't you leave it to me."

I knew having them here was smart. I knew it was the reasonable call…and I knew it shouldn't happen. I could feel it in my bones that I needed to get them out of here. My only solace was that Harry hadn't come along, it was only devils.

"Aren't you supposed to start babbling like an idiot AFTER I slap you upside the head?" my Queen said belligerently. "You just took off? And don't tell me you didn't know. We all saw you mulling over taking that cup. You knew what it was and you grabbed it anyway."

A colossal form in towering black armor spoke. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but perhaps the timing for this confrontation isn't ideal? I see a half dozen necromancers, twenty or so dark wizards, and what looks like thirty or so cultists of the faceless." He gestured past us, the way I'd come.

My head snapped around, glaring down from my hill at the enemy who had turned to stare up at us. "Shit," I said as I noticed a few unfamiliar faces. More than a few really. "Val, think you can turn Bermuda? I REALLY don't want to fight him without Flamel here."

"I'll deal with him, if necessary," said Skulduggery. Or perhaps I should have said Lord Vile. In the armor, Skulduggery wasn't just stronger. He was different. Colder. Darker. More deadly.

Still, it was nice to hear. "Noted," I said with a grateful smile. "But I'd like to know why he's helping. Voldemort had a bit of an arrangement with them, but they weren't at the point of being real allies. Standing with him here sends a message, and it's one I'm not sure he's meaning to send."

She grimaced, but then nodded, taking a deep breath. "I understand," she said grudgingly. "I'll ask." Stepping forward, she called down to Bermuda, who had been watching us along with the others, murmuring amongst themselves while we spoke. "Bermuda!"
The ancient necromancer stepped forward, sweeping into a courtly bow, hand fluttering as he swept it in front of him. "Deathbringer," he said warmly. "I confess, even under such unlucky circumstances, it is good to see you. Might I invite you to come down from there and take your rightful place among us?" When she didn't respond, he chuckled. "No? Pity. Well, I tried, I suppose."

"Didn't seem like much of an effort," I commented, drawing his gaze. "You guys give up on recruiting Val? Or are you just eager for a fight and hoping to skip the small talk?"

Bermuda sighed, shaking his head. "I'm afraid you've twisted our Deathbringer all in knots. Seduced by some fledgling dark lord. It's a bit embarrassing for me, seeing her kowtow to a lower being, but I suppose I can understand. We will retrieve her at a later date, but what we do here, we do in the name of progress. When I deliver her this world, assuming this procedure goes well, it will be filled with champions of her cause with both sorcery of the true name AND the power of wizardry."

My blood went cold. "You found a way to give Voldemort a true name?" That was…bad. No wonder my instincts pushed me to be here. This couldn't be allowed to happen. What had he said? The life of an enemy? That list was so long it was almost meaningless. He was stuck on Harry, but if he hadn't succeeded at all he might have just picked someone at random.

"Necromancy and wizardry are more connected than most might think," he admitted with a shrug. "You, who have grasped my Black Burn, should understand this better than most. Mevolent's mentor, The Unnamed, was a member of our order. He learned the mechanism of necromancy to transcend his wizard origins, but the secrets of the process were lost to time. Tonight, we rediscover them, and through this procedure, Necromancy will ascend."

I glared down at the scores of hooded figures. I would not allow this. We were so close to finally finishing Voldemort off. To finally ending him. I wasn't letting him resurrect himself as some sort of perfect super wizard. Especially not if he ended up showing a bunch of OTHER psychopaths how to do it. I didn't buy for a second Voldemort was willing to share power, but I DID buy that whatever double cross he had cooking might fail because he underestimated Bermuda. Scary and powerful he might be, but that guy did NOT have a proper grasp on his own skills. Way too much ego.

This was too much. Too much information, too much danger, and my instincts were SCREAMING at me to get my people out of here. They shouldn't have come, the Dremora and I would have been fine, we'd have gotten it done.

My fucking divination powers didn't account for anyone but me during this little episode. They'd detected that Voldemort was close to becoming WAY too dangerous without our knowledge and pushed me to stop him without taking anything else into account. Fucking prophecy was SUPREMELY unhelpful for moment to moment engagements in most circumstances, apparently.
Snarling with barely suppressed rage, I whirled my staff over my head. "Just fucking DIE!" I howled, calling for the fire.

A cyclone of green flame manifested above me, more Fiendfyre than I'd ever called, and I poured all my intent into it, focusing it to a razor's edge with all my hate and frustration, its sole directive to fucking DESTROY, before tossing it right into the crowd in a fucking descending column of pure annihilation.

Bermuda smirked, calmly lifting his hands. Shadows swarmed from all around him, leaping from the tombs and graves to coalesce over his head. Behind him, twenty necromancers raised their foci, shadows pouring forth to gather into his working. An obsidian giant, a sleek, wicked sculpture of Bermuda himself, formed over them, kneeling and encircling them with its massive arms to defend them as the explosion hit.

I barely had to bother creating a wedge around the hill to prevent the fire from consuming us, but the explosion of cursed flame went everywhere else, and when it cleared, there was just my group and I on a hill, and one kneeling giant in a field of absolute desolation.

The graves were gone, the trees were gone, the fucking LANDSCAPE was gone. It was a flat, smooth plane of ash for at least a mile or two in every direction.

Bermuda let the giant stand, not dismissing it, and laughed wildly. "How impressive. But you know as well as I that Fiendfyre only burns the physical. Tell me, boy. Can you spare enough necromancy to burn away such a construct? As a beginner, I'm sure your Burn consumes your power permanently. It took me centuries to perfect it, after all."

I glanced at Val and Lord Vile. "I'll leave the necro construct to you. Tanith, you take the Dremora and take care of the Faceless. I neither know nor care who they are and you do. Everyone else, keeping that thing active should counter the Necromancers. At least, unless they have-"

A cry split the air, a bloodcurdling howl, and as I turned, I caught sight of exactly what I HADN'T wanted to see. Jager, striding across the ash strewn ground with massive, land eating strides. Behind him poured an army of undead. Yowling ghouls, jumping corpses, wraiths, banshees…and even fucking Dementors.

"That. Unless they have that," I finished unhappily. "New plan. You all handle the corpses, I'll hit the Necromancers and the death eaters. I imagine the latter will defend them to keep that construct up, but hopefully killing them will weaken it."

"It won't," stated Lord Vile. "Destroy their foci. Even then, Bermuda may hold it together with sheer willpower, but it should drastically increase the difficulty. We'll take care of the rest."

He spread his wings, shooting off toward the giant, and Val nodded at me unhappily before following. I knew she was super pissed by the set of her jaw. Bermuda's whole 'You're just a silly girl who got tricked by a boy' rant was clearly pushing her to homicidal levels of rage.

"Stay safe," I told them all. "Seriously, groups of two or more, watch each other's backs. If Voldemort gets this done, at least we know what's coming. I refuse to lose one of you to temporarily counter the threat. Daphne, you have a lead on the Horcrux?" I gestured to her detector, which was pulsing.

She nodded. "It's down there with him. After that…there's only one left."

"Then let's get this done." My powers could fuck off. I refused to be jerked around. I wouldn't let any of my people die tonight, I'd stop Voldemort, and once this was done we'd find a way to cleanse Harry completely and get rid of this fucking bastard for good. With that thought firmly in mind, I focused on the one remaining crypt the giant had protected, and the cauldron next to it. We had a ritual to ruin.

June 24th 2013, Cemetery, Little Hangleton, England 7:30 PM BST

My people hit the undead army like a wheat thresher running into a field of dandelions. THe zombies ran smack into them, and aside from Shaggy and Tanith, who cut them up, they got pretty much mulched at the start by a variety of powerful magics, or torn apart with unnatural strength.

Seras and Fleur snatched undead out of the air, plucking off their limbs like wings off flies, until Fleur got bogged down with a dozen jiangshi. Meanwhile, Seras ran smack into Jager while Natasha came up against Bermuda.

My staff whirled, the dark, wickedly sharp rose petals acting like a flanged mace as I smashed in the heads of a pair of ghouls with a single swing, my other hand coming up to unleash a burst of flame that vaporized what I was pretty sure, based on several study sessions in the Hogwarts library, was a fucking ASWANG.

Voldemort, meanwhile, was screaming shrilly, shrieking at Pettigrew to grab someone, anyone, to complete his ritual. I was advancing, and the large mass of fucking fodder wasn't going to keep me off him for long.

Pettigrew, looking terrified, screamed. "No! I won't die here!" He hurled the twisted baby monster at the cauldron, revealing the fact that one of his fucking hands was missing, bloody stump wrapped in linen or something. He vanished into the milieu as I snorted, not even bothering with him as I headed for the cauldron, ready to wipe the bastard out again.

"Ryan!" Screamed a familiar voice. I turned to search and found Daphne staring at me, finger pointing beyond me at a new form.

Standing in the blowing ash and exploding dust was a gruesome looking man. He loomed surprisingly for such a short man, rotting face dark with decay as bright red eyes blazed in his skull. Part of his teeth were exposed by a rotted away cheek muscle, and he wore a set of mouldering robes over an exposed, desiccated body, his neck adorned with a simple leather necklace coated with gold plates, each engraved with a series of familiar yet unintelligible symbols. Hieroglyphics.

Around his neck was a serpent, a massive dark snake, which I was pretty sure was what Daphne had been pointing at. The Horcrux. I gaped at him, noting the desiccation and the theme, and picking up signs of bandages tattered and hanging off his limbs. "Are…are you a fucking MUMMY?" I asked incredulously.

Hissing, the monster rattled out in a voice like dead leaves and gravel over a tombstone in October. "Abomination," he snarled. "I am a plague upon this earth, high priest of the dark god Set."

I was kind of geeking out. I knew this wasn't ACTUALLY Imhotep, but I really loved those movies. Sadly, I didn't have time for fanboying.

My hand came up, releasing a blast of flame that erupted toward the mummy and the Horcrux. Black flame. The mummy roared, mouth opening in an enormous scream as its jaws opened like a snake, vomiting forth a fucking plague of locusts that intercepted my black burn and soaked it all up before it reached him.

"First of all," I growled in annoyance. "Gross. Second of all, cool. And third of al…fuck you."

My staff slammed down and a massive serpent of green flame blurred forward, coalescing above my head and streaking towards the obstacle. I needed this bastard dead. The sinking feeling in my stomach wasn't gone, it had gotten worse since the baby thing had gone into the cauldron.

Mummy boy screamed, red eyes blazing, and an ash covered patch of ground erupted in a massive explosion of dark stone as a massive muscular man with the head of an animal burst forth, ready to attack as it slammed into the serpent, catching it in massive red glowing hands. The animal in question was…weird. Kind of like a cross between a dog and an ant eater, but I recognized it from poking around I'd done after finding that temple. The Set animal, also called the Typhonic beast.

I roared, blurring forward, staff swinging like the fist of an angry god at the mummy's head as our respective spells engaged above us, and he snarled back, hand coming up to reveal a wickedly curved bronze kopesh inlaid with dark, bloody looking metallic runes.

My staff clanged off the sword, knocking it askew, and the butt came up, smashing into the bastard's ribs from the bottom. A form dropped from above, landing on my back, and I felt the undead sink its fangs into my neck, pumping some kind of acidic venom into my bloodstream before I grabbed its head and ripped it off, leaving my staff to continue deflecting kopesh attacks as I staggered to the side, head pounding for a second.

The poison didn't take, devils being immune, but it did burn, and I was forced to tear my throat back open to let is spill out at a lower spot, ignoring my slight light headedness from blood loss as black viscous muck splashed onto the ash, hissing and spitting.

Opening a circle, I shoved my hand through, and the still fighting mummy screamed as my arm erupted from behind him, spearing into his chest. I detonated a blast of Fiendfyre inside his fucking rib cage, yanking my arm back as I let the flame consume both the mummy and the snake.

Calling my staff, I caught it from the air, whirling on the cauldron, but froze in place as I saw something completely unexpected. In front of the cauldron, Natasha was fighting Bermuda. THe ancient necromancer was cackling, hurling black fire and whips of shadow…until the cackles choked off. Pettigrew, in his rat form, had snuck up onto the necromancer, shifting while clinging to his back. Screaming in mad hatred, the ratlike man brought a wicked looking black metal dagger up and opened the ancient monster's throat, hurling them both backwards and over the edge of the cauldron. The boiling liquid inside turned a horrifying blackish red, an explosion of dark flame erupting into the air as the colossal shadow giant Val and Skulduggery had been fighting dissolved.

Jager's head snapped around from where he'd been fighting Seras. "NOOOO!" he roared in anguish. "TRAITORS! What have you done?"

Battle stopped. Everything stopped. We'd all turned to stare at the shaking, bubbling cauldron. I turned to Jager, calling across the distance. "Ok, what the fuck just happened? I thought he needed an en enemy?"

"All beings are the lich's enemies," snapped Jager. But his voice was hollow, empty of any real malice as his eyes locked on the cauldron. "Ours was an alliance of convenience. Now… we must go. Lord Bermuda is ancient and unspeakably powerful. Such a being, steeped in the deaths of millions, will make an unnaturally potent sacrifice." He spun to stare up at Val. "Please! Lady deathbringer. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I beg you. Do not let our Lord have died in vain. Escape with your monsters and do not approach the Necromancer temple again!"

The cauldron started belching smoke, rocking on its base as cracks appeared on the metal. I stared at it anxiously. My instincts had exploded into a corruscating maelstrom of fear and warning. "Pack it up!" I shouted to my friends. "Everyone get up to the hill."

We needed to go, but part of me knew we also needed to see this. We needed to know what was coming if we wanted a chance to beat it.

The undead were still as the grave, staring maliciously at the cauldron but not moving. They didn't try to stop any of my friends or I as we booked it top speed for the hill, though some of the cultists did. They mostly died quickly and without issue.

We'd barely made it to the top of the sole remaining geological feature nearby, the hill I'd protected from the Fiendfyre storm, when there was an explosion of black flame from behind us. I whirled to see the cauldron blow apart, the concoction inside going up in a conflagration of dark fire as it was consumed to fuel Voldemort's resurrection.

A chalk white form stepped from the flames, unnaturally spindly and sickly looking. A wave cloaked him in shadow, and his pale, featureless face only had a mouth and eyes, with slits for nostrils and no hair. "At last," purred the voice of Lord Voldemort. "I am risen." Looking over his shoulder into the still rioting flame, he drawled. "Wormtail, are you not going to emerge?"

There was a pause, a beat where nothing happened, and then a foot emerged. A very large, sickly green foot, with dark fur leading up its tree trunk leg. Then another, and finally, a massive body squeezed itself from the ball of flame.

It looked like a demon, honestly. Huge and grotesque, with a green stomach overhanging its waist and elongated arms tipped with dinner plate sized clawed hands (one made some kind of animated obsidian). A pair of black glistening horns of the same material erupted from its piggish face, matched by equally glinting tusks outthrust from a distended lower jaw.

Jager stared in horror. "Abomination! What have you wrought? This is not the ritual you disclosed.

"Jager, you certainly don't look as confident as you have in the past," the monster crooned, eyes dancing with black flame. "I think, for my first act as the new high priest of the Necromancer Temple, I'll have you relegated to a soul jar. And your little deathbringer will be sitting up there alongside you."

Closing his eyes, the gargantuan undead we'd fought so many times shook his head. I was staring at the form of Voldemort in horror, my instincts telling me how absurd his new power was. I had no chance of killing him. I knew that as sure as I knew the sun would set in the morning. My circle was opening, but something about this place was interfering. The ritual had sucked the power from the entire place, even leached it from the dirt. I was able to provide plenty of my own, but my circle was bleeding demonic energy as the dirt slurped it up.

Not to mention it was a huge circle, enough to cover all of us. Voldemort's head snapped up at the energy, black flaming eyes locked on us, and the flame faded to reveal blood red irises. "And YOU," he snarled. "I'll enjoy watch-" he was cut off by an explosion of motion as Jager, screaming in defiance, slammed into him, knocking him a single step back.

"DEATHBRINGER!" screamed the massive undead. "ESCAPE! We'll hold them off!" With that statement, the horde of undead turned as one and boiled forward, overrunning Voldemort and Wormtail. The Faceless cultists tried to intervene, but the Necromancers themselves turned on them, dark weapons at the ready as they tore into their fellow robed figures.

As we were overtaken by the circle, the last thing we saw was an explosion of black flame consuming the undead as Voldemort broke free.

We appeared back on the field outside the maze, and there was a massive outcry of shock as we did, everyone turning to stare at the sudden appearance of more than a dozen people from nothing.

"DUMBLEDORE!" I bellowed, eyes wild as I spun, looking for the old man that hid the newly rejuvenated arch wizard. "Where are you? We've got fucking problems!"

Dumbledore appeared, looking grim, and I caught a brief glimpse of him slipping a bloody glass eye into a robe pocket as he made his way toward us. Apparently I didn't need to bring up Moody. That was something at least. "If Hogwarts has some kind of lockdown or shielding protocol, you should activate it," I told the older wizard. "I have a lot to catch you up on."

I knew that apparition didn't work on Hogwarts grounds, and despite his new powers Voldemort wasn't me. It would take him a bit to get here, and we needed to be ready. Dumbledore nodded, then raised his voice to call for a series of important wizards to meet us in the great hall. Apparently, we were calling a war council.

As usual pat-reon has the advance chapters at that site /malcolmtent hope everyone enjoys.