February 30th 2013, Grindelwald's Bunker, Heppenheim, Germany, 7:00 PM BST
Ducking under another cutting curse, I hurled a spike of darkness from my wand. Grindelwald had needed to defend against Val's hellfire, so I was pretty sure whatever the fuck he'd done only affected wizard magic. Somehow.
"For future reference!" I snarled at Dumbledore. "Shouting 'It's coming!' Is NEVER fucking helpful if you don't specify what IT is or does. 'The spell that Grindelwald created for his Mastery' is equally fucking useless to me as a frame of reference. Now WHAT did he just do?"
The suddenly much younger (but still old to me) man, coughed in embarrassment. "Apologies, my dear boy, but regardless of my failing I hardly think such profanity necessary. I AM an educator. It would be remiss of me not to remind a wayward student to at least attempt to stay on the right path."
"Are you fucking KIDDING me?" I howled in indignation. "Now is SO not the time!"
"There is always time for good manners," he responded primly, smoothly sidestepping a whip of flame.
Val flew forward, hurling hellfire and spikes of darkness. In the distance I could see my friends using their physical strength mostly, barring Skulduggery who was going three on one with the armored demons using his Lord Vile strength. "We don't have time for this!" I hissed. "What the fuck is he DOING?" I had a guess, but Dumbledore knew the actual scoop.
"Novus Ordo Seclorum." He said grimly. "It redefines the rules of the world itself. It only works on a single "rule" at any given time. This particular casting seems to have been aimed at nullifying all magic that isn't Gellerts. Unfortunately for him, the spell has a notable flaw, in that it is based on his own biases. Necromancy and Sorcery aren't "real" magic to him, and so they are unaffected."
That was…way worse than I thought. I mean the actual effect was what I'd guessed, but if he could just change it on a whim we were in deep shit. I mentally cursed myself for never bothering to learn elemental sorcery. It always just seemed like such a time suck. It hardly mattered, I had my own alternative. I called up the blackness from my wand, coating my body in almost all of it, thickening my armor into a massive combat suit of full plate.
My wings extended behind me, razor sharp and reinforced by darkness. I flashed forward, willing my darkness covered form to move faster, fuelled by my demonic energy boosting the armor like an exoskeleton. As I got closer, my wand waved, wielded like a sword, and a cutting curse came bursting out.
Or rather, the opposite of a cutting curse. An inverted necromantic spell of joining rather than severing. Grindelwald spun his staff, turning on his heel…except he didn't, because his boots were fucking fused to the ground. His eyes widened in panic, and the staff slammed down, a massive dome of silver light shielding him as my armored shoulder smashed into the protective cover with the power of a thousand runaway trains. Or like…at least one or two.
There was a crack and he wobbled in the air, yanking his feet free of the boots as he scowled at me in rage.
I smirked, and my next attack was a rain of necromancy. Specifically, a volley of necromantic "ennervate" spells, which would normally have woken up anyone they hit, but since necromancy was un-magic, these turned into improvised stunners. Val's hellfire had hit right before my attacks made it to Grindelwald, opening a hole for me, and he had to drop the dome with a curse to deflect them.
Give him this, the man lived up to the hype. His staff was spinning like a baton, flicking aside my volley of attacks. He was using that annoying time warp spell to keep up, but I could see it was draining him.
Apparently that spell scaled with speed, because I was moving absurdly fast right now. Still, Grindelwald was a magical monster, and based on my magesight, I was pretty sure that staff was a giant battery. It was practically nuclear to my vision, and I could almost feel the waves of power coming off it.
Fucking Gaunter. He just had to give the magical supergenius a demon summoning mega staff. Closing in, I ket casting the stuns, my other hand alternating grabbing for the staff and trying to punch Grindelwald.
Shockingly, his close quarters technique was solid. He was able to conjure small mobile shields to intercept the punches and knock my grabs aside with his temporally enhanced speed. Snarling, I stomped down, and the ground beneath me cracked, cratering the stone and throwing off his balance.
All of the sudden, I felt something slam into me. I thought it was an attack for a second, until Grindelwald went flying straight up off the ground, barely avoiding one of my strikes.
It took me a second to realize the jarring sensation was my wizard magic coming back online, Grindelward had inverted his personal gravity with Novus Ordo Seclorum. My eyes went wide as I looked up, my face draining of color as the staff whirled in a series of intricate casting patterns, a big wind up for an obviously massive spell. I threw my head back and bellowed "DEFEND!" with all my might as I slammed down a shield of my own.
I'd been experimenting with mixing necromancy and wizardry, and this particular spell was one I hadn't field tested yet. I knew it would at LEAST act as a regular shield, but theoretically it should defend me both physically and spiritually. A comprehensive defense that should cover all based. A dome of silver black light slammed down over me as what looked like a fucking aurora rained down on us.
Before it could even hit though, Dumbledore and Nicholas appeared in front of me, moving in sync like trained soldiers, and their wands flicked out in unison, drawing a massive web of crystalline fragments I recognized as being pure fucking mana of some kind.
Once the web was up Nicholas tapped it and the mana condensed into a cage of solid matter. The aurora was sucked into the crystals as it approached, shifting the properties of the crystalline mana to match itself. With another flick Nicholas turned it back to free floating mana and Dumbledore winged it back up at Grindelwald.
I stared on shock at the sheer skill on display as they made a fucking MANA FARADAY CAGE, then turned it back into an attack spell and returned it.
Grindelwald snarled, and he dropped off the ceiling as he instated a new rule. He passed right through the attack, then flicked his staff and shunted himself mid fall, sending his body skidding across the floor at an angle that seemed to leave him perfectly intact.
"You guys look like you could use some help," came a cheerful voice as Tanith appeared, sword over her shoulder. She was splattered in green black blood, and her smile was radiant, clearly in an excellent mood from the battle. "Want me to take a crack at him?" She squinted across the room. "He doesn't look so tough."
A snort alerted me to the presence of a second armored figure even more imposing than myself. "You're clearly not paying attention," said Skulduggery as he stepped up next to me. "You must have been distracted by that single solitary opponent you killed while I was beating three of them at once."
Looking around, I found that more figures were joining us. All of my peerage members were disengaged from their respective demons, having finished them off in the window where we'd been dealing with that series of attacks. "Skulduggery, don't be a bitch, Tanith, stop showing off and stab the bad guy, everyone else…just fucking blow that asshole up."
Throwing out my hands, I conjured the biggest serpents I could, one fienfdyre and one acidic heavy water, hurling them both at Grindelwald. He blocked, but Val's hellfire hit my water serpent and an explosion of steam billowed out, forcing him to adapt his shield even as the rest of us took cover. Mundi ad Bellum was back up, and Suzie and Natasha were somehow reinforcing it with their own magic, massively boosting the range as they put their hands on Dumbledore's shoulders.
Shaggy and Tanith had flashed forward, swords singing through the air, and Grindelwald snarlingly flicked his staff and conjured a dozen crystalline swords from the air, animated to fight on their own.
Despite the numbers, the swords started to come apart on contact, and my knights were tearing through them and almost too him. He snarled at us all in impotent rage. "Enough!" He screamed. Raising his wrist to his lips, he used his teeth to tear into the vein, then held his wrist over the staff.
The beautiful rose on the top bloomed, expanding into a tangle of roots that leapt free from the staff and dove down Grindelwald's throat. Roots erupted from his body, weaving themselves into armor as his face turned blood red, a mockery of the demons he'd been summoning earlier, horns of wood sprouting from his head.
"Might've been nice of Gaunter to mention THAT!" I spat in annoyance. "Everyone attack NOW!"
A rain of spells and sorcery exploded from our side, all of it pouring down onto…whoever that was now. He batted it all aside with contemptuous ease, hands flying through a series of casual slaps as he deflected the spells (even the hellfire) with his bare hands.
But that hadn't been why I wanted them to attack. See, the more chaotic the battlefield, the more distracted he was, and specifically, the more chance for me to spot the right moment. Teleporting into what I could feel was his blind spot, I waited as the spells started to clear, replaced with a fresh wave, and then I spotted it.
The scar in fate, the gash in the pattern of the battle. I bolted forward, blurring at top speed, and as I ducked under an errant cutting curse, I stopped on a dime, launching myself backwards…and disconnecting the black armor from my wand and myself as I did so, the back opening as I ejected myself from the construct…while setting it on fire.
The black burn, the conceptual opposite of fiendfyre, a flame that consumes the soul, lit that dark armor up like a bonfire as it warped in midair according to my last vestiges of control, inverting the suit as the armor swallowed not-Grindelwald, encasing him in burning darkness.
His form twitched and jerked, screams only held back by the completely sealed armor, until the last of it burnt up, and Grindelwald fell over, stone cold dead and completely unscathed, every remnant of his transformation burned away. As, unfortunately, was the staff, which had apparently somehow been both spiritual and physical. Oh well.
I stared down at the completely intact corpse of Gellert Grindelwald and scowled fiercly as I looked down at my wand. "That was almost ALL of my fucking necromantic power. I'm going to have to start all over now. Fucking Gaunter."
Seras walked over to him, poking him. "He's…still alive."
My guard went up, but she shook her head. "Nothing home in there. It's just meat. Although…I don't suppose anyone WANTS this?" She asked hopefully.
"Just bite the neck," I instructed. "Leave him intact enough for me to give his corpse to Gaunter." He hadn't asked for the corpse, but then he hadn't REALLY mentioned death as an option either, so better safe than sorry, even if I was still comfortably within the terms. Then I paused, looking around. "Um…weird question. We put a temporary back door into this place, and now the owner is dead. Do we…own this bunker now?"
Daphne stopped, opened her mouth, then closed it, before finally nodding. "I believe we do," she said hesitantly. "Right of conquest is valid on escaped prisoners, which he definitely was. I can't say for sure-"
"I can," said Albus Dumbledore, Chief Mugwump of the Supreme Confederation of Internationals or whatever the fuck his title was. "You may keep the building, though I should like to search it for possible dangers. I suspect professor Lacroix, madame Romanoff, and Nicholas will all be equally interested to search it." I laughed, not really caring. Free house with badass magical protections. Details were unimportant. Now that we were done though, I wanted to go home. I was going to sleep for a week after I handed the corpse over to Gaunter.
May 30th 2013, Grindelwald's Bunker, Heppenheim, Germany, 7:00 PM BST
The next several months were a whirlwind of activity. Getting the corpse to Gaunter, hunting for Horcruxes, catching ghosts to boost my necromancy after burning fucking ALL of it killing Grindelwald. But today was a special day. The culmination of a new project, and one that I was incredibly excited about.
"So, are you sure this is going to work?" I asked as I stood next to Flamel. He and I had been working on this little task for months, since Grindelwald's death, and the project was…ambitious, to say the least.
He sighed. "Once again, no, Mr. Black, I am not. Your proposal was intriguing, and I wish to attempt it, but this is hardly trodden territory. This is a brand new procedure, and I suspect without the diadem I would not have been capable of making it. The only reason I believe it to be possible at all is because of the unusual flexibility of your energy."
I nodded, staring down at the circle beneath us. I understood less than half of what was going on here, but when I'd come to Nicholas with the ashes left behind by Sanguine Rose and proposed a plan to recreate the artifact, he'd jumped at the chance.
Alchemy was the science of transmutation. Turning something into something else. Fire, at its core, even the black flames of the Brule Noire, was just a form of transmutation. And anything that could be transformed could be transformed BACK. I wanted that fucking staff. The ability to summon devils like that would be invaluable, and it seemed to boost magical output far more than my wand did.
Using the wand as a necromancy focus was useful and important, but it somewhat hamstrung my casting, since I had to manipulate the shadows with it directly.
Once I'd brought it up, Flamel was hooked. The opportunity to study the recreation of an alien magical artifact of that level? He was in hog heaven.
Unfortunately, we'd run into a serious problem. The ashes of the Sanguine Rose were complicated and potent, but they were also…uncooperative. Magic seeped into them slowly, and it didn't obey when it did so. We'd eventually worked out that pure demonic energy seemed to have a resonance with the weapon, and the ashes accepted that easily enough. Once we fixed that though, problem number two popped up. The absurdly complicated transmutation.
That problem had two solutions. One was a complex and variable focus made to partially automate the transmutation process, and the other was a massive complicated ritual circle.
The first we had, because apparently, that was what the fucking philosophers stone actually WAS. The transmutation to make the elixir was basically the creation of a type of supercritical magic, condensed liquid energy that supercharged and rejuvenated the body. It wasn't the purpose of the stone, it was a BYPRODUCT. A halfway step to creating a fully autonomous transmuting device that would allow Flamel to attempt to transmute massively more complex items and beings, creating any number of legendary devices and entities anew.
It was also a fucking abject failure. That was why Flamel had never managed to recreate the stone. Because it wasn't made correctly. The stone had been a fuckup in a long and complicated process, and its production was entirely accidental.
Still, the progress with the stone made it an excellent aid for transmutation under certain circumstances, and this happened to be one of them. With the proper ritual circle designed to map the transmutation for it, and my power to properly saturate the ashes as a medium, the stone could do the heavy lifting while Nicholas attended to the minutiae. It was one big test run, and the both of us were as nervous as we were excited.
I turned to the immortal alchemist. "Alright, well if that's all the prepwork done, we can start, right?"
Chuckling, he nodded. "Are you sure you're ready for this? It'll take quite a haul of power."
I knew that. I could have theoretically gotten my peerage involved and made things easier, but drawing attention to the fact that we ALL had this super special type of adaptive magic seemed unwise. Not everyone around knew what we were, not with Amelie and Flitwick running in and out of here on the daily studying Grindelwald's defenses.
"Very well, take your position." I did, standing in the center of the circle. I'd gather a ton of demonic power from the last few months of doing contracts. I was at triple my original strength, and I hadn't imbued any of it into my focus yet.
I'd been saving all that demonic energy for after this ritual, so I should have more than enough to spare.
Stepping into an engraved outline on the ground, I waited for my cue. The circle was…complicated. Nicholas with the diadem was a truly terrifying level of competence. It didn't just use two dimensional constructs like etchings or chalk, it used three dimensions, webs of wire strung with crystals and prisms, light beams and rainbows strung across gaps connecting disparate elements.
This circle was a work of art far beyond anything you'd find in a museum, and Nicholas had poured a substantial amount of his truly staggering wealth into its creation. Diamonds, stained glass from ancient churches, gold, platinum, tuning forks and seashells and magical artifacts all positioned in a massive three dimensional array at VERY specific times, bringing time itself into the construction of the circle. My spot was towards the outside, but I'd still needed to dodge, dip, duck, and dodge to get there without bumping something, and only my ability to fucking fly had made it possible.
In the center, on a pedestal made of ivory and dragon bone and etched with traceries of gold and crushed ruby, sat the philosophers stone, held in a gleaming setting like a three pronged bronze claw that hummed with magical energy, all the wires twisted around it and the lights and sound aimed right at it.
"Alright, time to begin," said Nicholas intently. "Remember, keep your output even. It doesn't need to be fast or slow specifically, but it needs to be consistent. Removed your shoes." I did, letting them drop through a circle as my bare feet were speared with a series of small tacklike objects connected to the wires. "Now…start."
I called to my power, pushing it down into my feet. I felt the siphoning begin as the tacks started to draw the strength into them, the wires lighting up a deep, malevolent red as the demonic energy poured through them into the stone.
Where before the light, wires, and sound had all been aimed at the stone, now it all seemed to rebound. My demonic energy flowed into it, and the bloody light reflected out, contaminating the entire circle. The world was dyed crimson, the tones turning dark and melancholic as the gems, glass, and metal warped to match its current setting.
The sound made by the tuning forks and seashells stuttered, almost like a beating heart, and for a moment it felt like we were standing inside the chest of a demon. Past the pedestal lay an altar, a pile of ashes spread across it, rare woods and metals placed alongside it, gems and literal buckets of elixir of life close enough to be used.
As the altar slowly came to life, it began to vibrate, and as we watched all the materials began to melt, warping and twisting as the space itself started to drip like ice in summer, pooling and mixing in the center of the altar as it poured itself over the ashes.
It started as a single rod of dark matter, small and thin. As the elixir poured in, a small bud sprouted at the top, and as we watched the staff grew as if it was being watered. I kept up my output as I was told, even though I was starting to feel week. This wasn't imbuement like with my wand, just good old fashioned power usage. It would recover, but if I fucked up the ritual we might get another chance.
Nicholas was striding around the circle, using small tools to tap on glass or metal, set off chimes or disrupt the light in specific ways. He put objects in front of the beams, creating shadows that became part of the whole, the entire gestalt of bloody power and darkness twisting the world around us in strange and unnerving ways.
I felt like some kind of massive evil being was above me, and all this was happening in its palm. Its fingers closed slowly, and as I gritted my teeth, the feel of pressure around me that had been barely noticeable became fucking unbearable. I was at the bottom of an ocean of blood, being crushed by the pressure of a million gallons of liquid life, and it took everything I had to stand there and retain my focus.
Red veins began to sprout inside the pure darkness of the staff, winding their way up, beating along with the heartbeat of the bloody world I stood inside, but a little staggered. Every beat in for the ritual was a beat out for the staff, like the squeezing was manually pumping the heart inside the object.
As we watched, the red veins wound up toward the top and the bud started to open, blood red petals poking out. The bloom happened in slow motion, a giant rose unfolding even as I watched in awe. Sanguine Rose back to its former glory, but…more.
At the heart of that rose sat a pitch black faceted gem that roiled with suppressed demonic power as the gem finished emerging, there was a discordant snap, and the whole ritual just…collapsed. The wires snapped with twangs, the glass shattered, the tuning forks exploded in showers of metal.
We stood in a ruin of expensive materials, staring at the staff as the color faded away, returning the room to its normal hues.
The staff was still black and red, much different than it had been before. The old one had been earth tones, brownish with a sort of russet flower on top. Still red but not as bloody. This new staff was staggeringly different. The demonic power had warped it, and as I held up my hand, it flew to me, smacking into my palm with a sturdy thud.
Once it did, I understood what had happened. The transmutation had been altered by a variable. Me. Or rather, by the evil piece inside me. The king piece had resonated with the stone, changing the ritual from one of recreation to one of reincarnation.
My staff was ALIVE, killing it with the black burn had proven that, and that meant it could be REINCARNATED. Sanguine Rose was no longer what it had been. Sanguine Rose was a devil.
That sounded ridiculous, but it was true, I could feel it. This staff had become a devil plant hybrid. It wasn't part of my peerage, it was more like it was part of ME, but it was devilized. I could feel a deep well of demonic energy just as powerful as my own inside that gem, and I knew that like me it would recover when used.
My options for imbuing my necromantic focus had expanded significantly. I'd have to talk to Nicholas about this. If he could help me, I might be able to find a way to create a focus from the staff that would let me freely switch between necromantic and demonic energy. I'd still have to burn some of it for destroying Horcruxes, but it would mean I'd have access to my full power in both disciplines.
Nicholas approached, staring at the staff in fascination. "Well," he said with a grin. "It seems things have taken an unexpected turn. What fun." I just laughed. He had no idea. This was going to change absolutely everything.
May 31st 2013, Charms classroom, Hogwarts, Scotland, 8:00 AM BST
The next day I had to sit through classes all day, and it felt ridiculous. I'd been getting more and more distracted, but Sanguine Rose showing up made me absurdly excited to do…something. I wanted to go out and get into trouble. Maybe hunt a Nundu or some shit. Sadly, I had to show up and work on my Enchanting instead.
Our current project was pretty simple, trying to create an enchanted item with two separate spells on it. This was where we got into interesting combinations and started to get some serious versatility, so it wasn't boring, even if my mind was elsewhere.
Tracey looked amused at my distraction. "You do know that being an enchanting genius doesn't mean you can just sleep through class, right?"
"First of all," I said bluntly. "It totally does. Second of all, I'm a triwizard champion, so that excuse would work too, third of all Flitwick owes me for ransacking my house for the last several months, and fourthly, I wasn't sleeping, my eyes were open."
"Really?" She gestured archly to the book in my hands, which had "how to sleep with your eyes wide open" written across the dust jacket.
I just smirked. "Come on, that's not real." I peeled back the cover slightly to let her see the actual book underneath, namely, the Spells of Astaroth. "I just don't want people asking me questions about what I'm doing. I can't believe you fell for that."
She nodded wryly. "Fair, that did seem a bit Looney Tunes."
"I got the idea from an old Bugs bunny cartoon," I admitted. "Kind of surprised you got that. I'm a little impressed."
"So, what's got you distracted, anyway?" she asked quietly. "You seem more out of it than usual. Not just the staff I'm guessing. You look kind of troubled. That worries me more than I can say, given your ability to predict the future and complete lack of self preservation."
I scoffed. "Please, I only have a PARTIAL lack of self preservation. But yeah, I've been getting a weird feeling for a while. The closer we get to the end of the year. Something big is coming. Something bad. We need to purify the you know whats before it gets here, that's basically all I know. I've tried divining it, but I'm not getting much. Something about death, but that could honestly mean anything. Death omens are weirdly common in divination. So common they don't even actually mean anything a lot of the time."
"Yes, because I'm sure predicting death is no big deal," she said sarcastically.
"It isn't," I confirmed. "It's common for a reason. Death is omnipresent in life. Not just the 'grim specter' bullshit that Trelawney likes to harp on about. Skin cells die constantly, we're literally coated in death. We kill to eat, kill for clothes, we wear the skins of animals, the corpses of plants. Annoying conversations kill your patience, drinking alcohol kills both your brain cells and your awareness. Death is constant and all around us."
She glowered at me. "Cheery. But do you really think that your predictions are about dead animals and clothing?"
"No," I admitted. "But they might be about the death of innocence, the death of friendship, the death of cowardice. Any kind of change necessitates some sort of death, its why the Death tarot card REPRESENTS change, rather than literal homicide. Honestly it's LESS likely that someone is actually going to die from a reading like that. Hell, Trelawney has been making that mistake with Harry all year apparently."
My pseudo cousin was apparently in divination, though he found it much less useful than I did. As far as I could tell, trying to divine the future without an actual gift for prophecy was a lot like playing scratch off lotto cards. It was expensive, time consuming, and while it sometimes worked a LITTLE bit, it usually wasn't worth the time investment.
Trelawney herself suffered from this issue, despite being a technical master of almost every kind of divination, her success rate was abysmal. It was like knowing all the best hands in poker. It did improve your odds, just not enough to really matter.
Ironically, Trelawney could read me like a book. My involvement in a reading moved the fates, regardless of which side of it I was on, at least from a friendly diviner. Based on some of the tests I'd run, unfriendly divination bounced off my King piece much like most kinds of mind control did. Whoever made those things did not fuck around with safety features.
I'd had her double checking my recent reading attempts, but she took the death omens way more seriously than I did, so it hadn't been super productive.
Sighing, I waved off my distraction. "I can worry about that later. We're working on a project. What are you doing for yours, I wasn't paying attention when you told me." Then I paused. "Wait, are you actually making a magic dildo?"
"No, I just wanted to see if you were listening," she snickered. "Though a vibration and warming charm might…" she trailed off. "Well something to get Stori for Christmas I suppose."
I grimaced. "Didn't need that mental image."
"Oh come off it," she snorted. "I know you just do that to make her feel special. It doesn't bother you that much. Besides, it's a great gift. Stori will love it and it'll make Blaise feel inadequate. Remind me to make sure it's bigger than he is."
I rolled my eyes. "Well, if you're done planning ways to give our friend an inferiority complex, maybe you could tell me your ACTUAL project?"
Smiling proudly, she held up a small knife. "This. This knife has a severing charm on one edge, and a joining charm on the other. Cut with this side, shears through almost anything, cut with this side, and it puts it back together. It's perfect for making alterations to clothing, furniture, anything you need to change." Her face fell. "Or it's supposed to be. Unfortunately the charms aren't anchoring properly. The joining charm isn't fully functional, leaving lots of gaps and warping."
I held out my hand and when she passed it over, I studied the knife. Not just with the normal spells to see enchantments, but with my magesight. Working with Nicholas the last few months, not to mention Amelie and Flitwick before that I'd gotten a lot of practice. After a certain amount of exposure, you start to get a feel for enchanting, the way it's supposed to flow, even when you're not familiar with all the spells in question.
Even though I never had a chance to learn the joining charm I was able to get a general idea what the problem was after a quick once over. I pointed at a specific part of the knife, the spot where a certain node was located. "Your intent is a little off here. Not join exactly, More like…twist? Entwine? Hard to say exactly, you'd know better than me. But I'd recast it."
Frowning, she squinted down at the knife. "I…think I get what you mean. I can kind of feel it. Hold on." She tapped it with her wand, muttering a series of spells before finally recasting and anchoring the sealing charm again. She passed it back to me. "Here, how is this?"
I scanned it, shrugging and handing it back. "It LOOKS ok, but again I don't know the spell. Try it out."
She shrugged, grabbed a piece of her robe and slashed through it, cutting it off. Then she reversed the blade and touched two corners of the fabric together, tapping it. Once it was done, she drew it along the edges, closing up the rend seamlessly.
"I did it!" she squealed happily. "Way ahead of schedule too! This was supposed to take us five classes." She smirked, buffing her nails on her shirt. "Naturally the class prodigy managed in two. What are you doing for yours? Have you even started it yet?" She glanced down at the parchment in front of me.
I pushed it toward her with an eye roll. "By all means, snoop. I know you're incapable of minding your own business."
"Everything is my business," she said pityingly. "You should know that by now."
She studied it for a minute, and I grinned at her. "It's a shower. Aguamenti enchantment along with a variable heating charm. The base will have a vanishing enchantment on the drain and a non slip charm. The rest of it is just going to be marble. I figure making it in two parts will make up for the relatively simple charm work. Plus I really want a nice shower. The pipes here suck. Almost no water pressure and the showers all have curtains. Claw foot nonsense."
Her eyes narrowed hungrily. "You can make me one of these, right? For my room? With the expansion you did I have the space. The porcelain bottoms on those tub showers makes me feel like I'm going to slip and break my neck. It is literally the least comfortable experience of my life, and I can FLY and am nearly unkillable."
"Yeah, I feel that," I admitted. "I love a nice stall shower with a bench seat. Having one in my room sounds like paradise. Anyway, I think Flitwick will recognize the passion, at least. I've done more impressive work, but this is solid for the given assignment."
She nodded and we ended up talking for the rest of the class, just catching up. I'd been bust with Nicholas, and hadn't seen Daphne as often as I'd like. As her bestie Tracey took it upon herself to catch me up on the details. Her work with the societies, her political campaigning for Amelia, her nights as Fleur's personal comfy chair (that last one I might have asked about directly, I did love it when my girls got along) it was nice to hear how she'd been doing.
When class ended, i invited Tracey back to the bunker with me to check out Sanguine Rose. My Pawn was an enchanter herself, and Sanguine Rose was a unique artifact, especially now. She eagerly accepted and we took a circle back to the house in germany.
Nicholas was already there, studying Sanguine Rose with a series of magical scanning tools. "Ah, Mr. Black," he said as we arrived. "Your timing is impeccable. As we discussed, I spent the day taking readings of your new implement. As we suspected I'm unable to actually wield it, but I've learned a staggering amount just from basic observations."
I nodded, holding out my hand and grinning as the staff jerked from his grip and hurtled across the room, slapping into my palm. Devil staff could fly, and it didn't even need wings. I spun it from hand to hand, getting used to the weight. "I assume you have more tests in mind?"
He laughed. "Am I that transparent? Yes indeed. I was hoping to test the summoning capability, if you have the time. Those creatures Grindelwald used against us were fascinating."
"Now you're speaking my language," I said with a laugh. "I was planning to test that out myself. I assume you have some kind of containment room we can use, in case they aren't as friendly to us as they were to him?"
Chuckling, he nodded. "Of course. It is possible more steps than simply the summoning itself are needed to tame the creatures. It would be foolish to assume them safe the first time we make contact. I've readied an observation room in the basement, if you'll follow me." Despite his patient and unassuming tone, I could tell he was practically vibrating with excitement, and I couldn't blame him.
"Lead the way," I told him cheerfully. I couldn't wait to see if the summoning was any different now that the staff had been devilized. Demon army, here I come.
May 31st 2013, Grindelwald's Bunker, Heppenheim, Germany, 4:00 PM BST
Feeling Sanguine Rose back in my hand was…amazing. The staff pulsed in my grip, the magic beating like a living heart. It wasn't loud or dramatic, just a fluttering of magic against my palm, but it was reassuring in a way that was hard to describe.
"So, do you know how to use the summoning?" Asked Nicholas in fascination as he watched me interact with the spell. "Is it some kind of stored ability you just fill with power?"
Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and delved into the staff. "The staff itself is a battery of sorts, it generates…a type of power. If it was just plug and play, that is, if you just had to shove in power, it would activate on its own." Letting my consciousness run over it, I studied the inherent magic. Or rather, studied the NEW magic, because I was almost positive it hadn't been designed like this originally.
The markings covering the staff in the magical spectrum reminded me of the ones that covered my evil piece from the Spells of Astaroth. Some kind of demonic enchantment language. Considering I was fairly sure this staff had originally come from somewhere different than my evil pieces (don't ask me how I knew that, it was just a vibe), these had mostly likely formed naturally when the staff was reincarnated, or whatever you would call the devilization process of a stick.
It only took me a minute to figure out how to activate the summoning. On closer inspection, the patterns were laid out seemingly at random. When I sent my intent into the staff along with some power, it sort of…told me.
Directing my power to the specific symbols it indicated in the specific order seemed to wake it up, and I watched as a bit of the internal battery of demonic power drained away, activating the summoning just as I intended. I highly suspected it did other things too, if I found the right combination. That was a matter for later though, because as I watched in excitement, a portal opened, and a new form walked through.
The demon that walked through this time was…different. Rather than just be a big bulky fucker in heavy armor, this one was smaller and more delicate. It had wings like a devil and its face was more refined. The armor was smaller, made of black crystal like the heavier stuff but more condensed, more like light armor, though I got the impression it was stronger.
Turning to me, the demon bowed deeply. "My king," he said in a resonant voice. "I am at your service."
Raising an eyebrow, I turned to Nicholas, who just shrugged. "Rise," I told it formally. "What's your name?" I wasn't sure how to address it honestly. Soldier? Servant? I decided just being vague worked for now.
"I have none," he said bluntly. "For my existence is only now established."
I blinked. "And…how does that work, exactly? Like, you were summoned from somewhere, right? The staff can't just create and endless number of new creatures. That would be insanity."
"Not an endless number, my king," it agreed. "Fifteen."
That made me freeze. My evil piece had catalyzed the transmutation ritual. My evil piece, which was a KING. An evil piece that my staff somehow seemed to share. Did this thing summon a new fucking PEERAGE?
"What happens if one of you dies?" I asked sharply. If these were limited summons, I needed to know.
"We return to the plane from which we were spawned," the demon informed me. "A new addition to the Myriad Realms of Revelry. Our beings were originally Dremora in service to the Daedric Prince Sanguine, and the Realms of Revelry are his domain. Sanguine Rose was his weapon, and it summoned us from one of the Myriad Realms. When you changed the staff, it changed our nature, cutting off the plane from the Myriad Realms to serve as our new home."
I stared at the staff. "This thing has a fucking POCKET DIMENSION in it? Full of DEMONS?"
"We are not demons," he corrected stoically. "We are the Dremora." He paused. "Or rather, we were. We have been remade in your image, my King. I feel…different. I am nothing that I once was, and am a new being. Therefore, I have no name."
I nodded. "I take it you're a Pawn? If there's fifteen of you, I assume you work the same way. Evil pieces and all."
"It is so, my King," he agreed. "Is this the name you wish me to use?"
I hummed thoughtfully. To be fair, remembering fifteen new names would be a pain in the ass. Plus these were summons who would just pop back to their fucking POCKET DIMENSION (still getting used to that idea) when they died. So…ethically dubious or not I didn't feel like naming them. "You can be Pawn 1," I decided. "There's eight of you guys, so just calling you all Pawn would be confusing."
Nicholas choked. "You can't be serious," he protested. "You've CREATED a species, you can't just name them after chess pieces and slap a number on them. And where are you even getting that designation? I feel I'm missing something important."
"Several somethings," I agreed. "It's personal business, don't worry about it. Pawn 1 can pick his own name in the future if he decides he wants one." I stared down at Sanguine Rose, staggered by how fucking powerful it was. I could feel the pocket dimension now, feel its connection to me. I felt like I could make it grow too, if I pushed in some demonic power. That was where the demonic power in the staff came from, too. The 'realm' inside. It had become a demonic realm when the staff devilized, had become a new UNDERWORLD, albeit a very small one. This thing made me…I had no clue. It made me something.
The best part was that I was pretty sure Gaunter had no clue. I'd told him about the destruction of the staff, and he'd grimaced, mentioning it belonged to some kind of demon god from another world. Presumably this Deadric Prince Sanguine, whoever that was. Now it was disconnected from him, killed and reborn in my image, and it was basically my very own divine weapon. Infernal weapon?
Gaunter had brought this thing here, just like the evil pieces, and he had no fucking clue what I could do with it. There was no way he'd have let me do…this, if he knew it was possible. Or at least, he would have tried to leverage me for it. Gaunter didn't give out power for free, I knew that after only talking to him a few times.
Mixing my magic with whatever Sanguine Rose had been had changed it, made it something completely new. Made me something completely new. This was bigger than just being able to use necromancy easily without losing demonic power. I could use the black burn at will now. The realm was full of demonic power, full of fucking devils radiating it, and it would refill if I burned some off.
In fact, I was pretty sure if I left it alone it would grow on its own, expanding slowly just by virtue of the demonic energy they produced. That would probably slow down every time I used the black burn, but the staff solved basically all my power problems. This thing made me something new, and it put me on a level that even Voldemort would have trouble dealing with. An entire pocket world full of demonic power at my fingertips?
Part of me wanted to reach into that realm and search it. I knew I could, but I also knew that while it was fairly small, it was still the size of a small town. I could spend hours scouring it with my mind without even entering, and I didn't want to spend the time.
I refocused on the task at hand. "Pawn 1," I said in an authoritative tone. "I want you to do a few things for me. I need to see your limits." Waving my staff, I flexed my intent, tapping the same pattern I had before, summoning another pawn. "This is Pawn 2," I said lazily. "I want the two of you to fight."
They both bowed to me, moving to the center of the room to prepare for combat. Nicholas looked uncertain. "I don't fully understand what is happening," he said slowly. "But is it really alright to make them fight like that?"
"It's fine," I reassured him. "They'll just end up back in the staff if they die. They're combat summons. Like making golems or elementals. They're perfectly alright with fighting."
Despite being a bit softer than I'd expected, Nicholas WAS an immortal wizard who had been alive for centuries. Putting it in a context he understood seemed to clear up his doubts. "Very well," he said, some of that curious excitement coming back to his voice. "Let us see what they can do."
At my nod, the battle began. Pawn 1 and Pawn 2 blurred toward each other, and I was shocked at how powerful they were. The original Dremora had been strong and fast enough to keep up with Tanith and the others. I suspected some of that power came from Sanguine, because this definitely wasn't five times stronger than they had been, but they were about as physically powerful as Seras was, which was pretty impressive.
Black swords, huge and crystalline, streaked through the air, and the pair of Pawns moved like master warriors, parrying and striking in a fluid succession of moves that I could barely follow and definitely couldn't have countered.
One of them made a misstep (Pawn 2) and the other managed to land a blow on his side, the crystalline blade cleaving through his armor enough to leave a deep gash before he was pushed back. That wound spelled the beginning of the end, but he wasn't going down without a fight. A hand flashed up, conjuring a wave of flames, and Pawn 1 backpedaled, arms thrown up in front of his face to weather the firestorm.
Pawn 2 came in fast, managing to lay open one leg before being impaled through the gut. Pawn 1 shoved his hand forward, driving it into the chest of the other devil Dremora (Dremevil? No, that was terrible, I'd have to come up with something) and ripping out a still pumping onyx heart.
The second Pawn dissolved into black sand, blowing away on the breeze, and a streak of red light flashed into the staff. I reached into it with my mind, knowing that the Pawn would need at least a week to reconstitute, and that the demonic energy would not only refill slower, but would drain away to fuel his rebirth. It was good to know this thing had limits, at least.
Pawn 1 approached, kneeling, and offered up the heart. I took it, studying the black lump with interest. "Um…thanks," I said lamely. "You shouldn't have."
I opened a circle, stashing it in my closet back home. Maybe mom could use it for something. Body parts were classic potion ingredients. I could have put it in the staff, but the realm inside didn't have any storage places, and I'd have just been dropping it on the ground in what appeared to be some kind of dark swamp based on my quick glimpse into my new pocket world.
Dismissing Pawn 1, I sent him back to the staff before turning to grin at Nicholas, who looked as awestruck by the display as I was. "In case you were wondering," I said, twirling the staff between my hands. "I think all that effort was worth it." I probably needed to explain some stuff to Nicholas about devils, but honestly, it was a small price to pay. My instincts had been spot on. This staff had changed the game. I couldn't wait to see what I could do with it.
June 1st 2013, Slytherin Dorm, Hogwarts, Scotland, 6:00 AM BST
I woke the next morning feeling…powerful. I always felt powerful to some extent, of course, I was a devil. But this was something else. Something more. I hadn't felt this dramatic a shift in my strength since I'd woken up a devil the first time. The energy from Sanguine Rose had circulated into me over the night, expanding my power, and then back into the staff.
Given how it was part of me, I'd half expected it to just share my pool of power, and then when I'd felt the world inside it, I'd considered it might just be a battery. But after sleeping on it, I could feel the change like night and day.
The staff was making me stronger. Fast. Granted, I'd slow down as we equalized, but based on the booklet that had come with my evil pieces, I was guessing I'd be approaching Middle Class soon. There was no actual devil power level to check, but they'd described the changes you'd go through, and I could feel them starting.
My body felt denser, my vision clearer, and I felt weightless in a way that was altogether different than my flight. Like I was too strong for gravity to properly restrain me.
I could also feel my realm inside me. It was in the staff, but the staff and I were…one? Mirrored? It was hard to conceptualize, but it was what it was. Standing and pacing to the wall, I lifted it up. I felt inside, scanning my new world. It was pretty small. About an acre.
The inside was a dark swampy place with a dim red moon over it. Not the nicest digs, but I could work on that. With a slight flex, I brought myself inside, stumbling as I landed on the marshy dirt from a foot up, having missed the mark on my entry. I also noted the staff came in with me, which was confusing but also kind of made sense.
Rather than use the staff to leave, I opened a circle, stepping out of my new world and back into the old, leaving the staff standing upright on its own inside…itself.
Deciding not to question the weird dimensional paradox, I instead chose to focus on how cool it was that my storage item could store itself. I wanted to show all the others, to take them inside and maybe work together to build a house there or something. We could teleport, which meant they could literally travel to the staff realm at any time, which was pretty cool.
At the moment though, I had bigger things to worry about. Two of them. With the diary, the diadem, the cup, and the locket destroyed, and the ring on hand (pun very much intended, intend your puns cowards), plus our awareness of Harry being a Horcrux (one thing at a time) we only needed one last piece to permanently end Voldemort.
Which was good, because my instincts had been slowly building to a high pitched scream the last month or two. Something was coming, something involving Voldemort, something bad. I wasn't sure what, when, or where. But I wanted to be ready. Which meant we needed ALL the Horcruxes that we could manage to destroy gone. With only Harry and the mystery Horcrux left, it was time to make good on my promise to Dumbledore. It was time to cleanse the ring.
I retrieved it from a spot I'd hidden it in (under some floorboards in my house) and headed up to the old man's office.
The gargoyle hopped aside easily, and I mounted the stairs, reaching the top to knock politely on the door to Dumbledore's sanctum. It took a moment, but I heard the familiar, wizened voice I hadn't expected call "Come in."
When I entered, I was shocked to be looking at…Dumbledore. Not young Dumbledore, but the aged, wizened headmaster I had grown so used to seeing. "Um…aging potion?"
He smiled in amusement, his skin shifting and smoothing as his hair receded to a shorter length and turned red. Within a blink, young Dumbledore had taken his place. "When one possesses adequate skill at Transfiguration, spells become more like…guidelines than actual rules."
"Wait, you've seen that move?" I asked in shock.
His bland "Hm?" might have just been him fucking with me or it might have been genuine, it was hard to tell.
"Nevermind, I'm here because we had a deal." I held up my hand, the ring between (but not on, obviously) my fingers. "You helped us out against Grindelwald when you didn't need to, you've helped us gather the Horcruxes, and you're working with us on splitting the one in Harry off without killing him. It's about time I came through on my promise."
The auburn haired wizard had been lounging casually, but when the ring appeared he stiffened, back going ramrod straight and his eyes widening.
"That is quite generous of you," he rasped, voice thick with emotion. "I must admit, it is almost ironic that I lost Gellert so soon before I gained access to the ring. He would have been beside himself to realize I possessed two of the Hallows."
Pausing, I let my curiosity overcome me, just for a minute. "So…what was the deal with that, anyway? You seemed oddly intense. I expected him to say something to you at the end, to speak to you more than me. How did you two know each other?"
He gestured me to sit, smiling wanly. "Very well. I suppose before we undertake such a dangerous task, I owe you a bit of truth. You've done so very much for me, my boy. You're entitled to at least that. The story begins, as so many do, with a child. A brilliant, lonely boy who lived in a lonely house, with only his family for company."
I took a seat, interested to hear the rest of the story before we cleansed the ring. It sounded interesting.
"When he was young, this boy lived with his mother, his father, and two siblings. They lived in a village called Mould-on-the-Wold, a part wizarding village, and they kept to the international statute of secrecy like everyone else." Dumbledore's blue eyes lost focus as he spoke, losing himself in the past.
"The boy loved magic, and studied it dutifully. He had a brilliant mind, and would often lose himself in his books. This behavior persisted, spending all his time studying, until only a few years before his eleventh birthday." His voice was haunted, and he picked up one of the gadgets on his desk to fiddle with.
Looking up at me, he smiled in a way that told me he wasn't amused by anything at all. "You see, his siblings, as is so often the case with children born of wizarding parents, were wizards as well. When his sister had her first bout of accidental magic, the boy was over the moon.
"But he wasn't the only one who had seen it. Mold-on-the-Wold was a part wizard village, after all. Some muggle boys saw her use her power, and they grew afraid. A few days later, fearful and full of hate, they attacked the young witch, seriously injuring her." I saw a single tear run down his cheek as he gritted out the rest. " In the course of the attack her brain was damaged, and she lost control of her nascent magic.
He closed his eyes, looking sick. "The seemingly temporary affliction was in fact permanent, but the family refused to seek help. If they had, the girl would be taken away, sent to live at a hospital, and the mother refused to lose her daughter. Enraged at the lack of resolution, the boy's father hunted down the muggle boys and attacked them. When the ministry tracked him down to question him, he hid his reasoning because he didn't want to lose his daughter. Assumed to be a muggle hating extremist, he was sentenced to Azkaban, where he later died."
I winced, that was fucking rough. I didn't interrupt though. It was clear he needed to get this off his chest. "So your mother his you and your sister?"
"For a time," he admitted, dropping the pretense. "But my sister's problem was deeper than we knew. She had subconsciously repressed her magic out of fear, and unbeknownst to us it built over time. When she was fourteen, Ariana's magic burst out of her, killing out mother.
"After that, it was just the two of us, and my older brother. He dropped out of Hogwarts to take care of her, and by that time I had started at the school. We'd moved after the original incident, to escape my father's reputation." He chuckled darkly. "In some ways that made it worse. But the one bright spot was my only friend. The grandson of my mother's friend, Bathilda. Gellert Grindelwald."
His face was a mask of pain. "Gellert and I were inseparable, and we found in each other both a shared brilliance and a shared hatred of the oppression we saw magical peoples as being under. We swore a blood pact, binding ourselves together, and began our work, building plans for our eventual conquest.
"Aberforth, my brother, never liked Gellert." He sounded tired and empty now, like this next part was something he'd gotten angry and upset about so many times he'd numbed himself. "He confronted us about it, and we duelled, During the duel, however, a stray spell caught Ariana. My sister died."
He glanced at the ring, eyes swimming. "I...I never got to say I was sorry. For what happened to her. For not being a better brother. For running off to Hogwarts and leaving her with no one but Aberforth. It was why I became obsessed with the Deathly Hallows, much like Gellert did. Our relationship hadn't strained to breaking by that point, I am ashamed to admit."
"So you want to talk to her with the ring?" I asked softly. "Get that one last conversation?"
He nodded solemnly. "It is, truth be told, my most ardent wish. A chance to make things up to her is all I've ever wanted, really."
I held up the ring. "Well then let's get it done," I said bluntly. "Let's break this curse and burn away the damned Horcrux, so you can finally get your closure. I trust you're willing to help me with the former?"
"Of course," he agreed happily. "I may not be a professional curse breaker, but my knowledge or runes and enchantment principles is formidable, I assure you. You wish to use the room?"
Standing, I gestured to the staircase. He smiled, walking over and pulling aside a tapestry, the two of us slipping out onto the stairs. It took us hardly any time to make it to the room, and after entering, Dumbledore set us up for curse breaking, at least I assume.
This was a real wizard curse, not some vampire blood curse, so there was a LOT of setup, but I was patient, knowing Dumbledore was even more anxious than me.
Finally, we were done setting up. Smiling at the older man, I summoned my staff to my hend, feeling my body thrum as my palm caught the smooth wood. I felt my confidence soar as the power seeped out into me, even faster than before.
Walking into the center of the room, I set the ring down in the circle Dumbledore had constructed from iron, preparing for this exact moment.
Once it was lying there, I stepped back and gestured him forward. "Curse is on you, ask if you need backup to finish the job. Don't be afraid to be honest. Pride isn't important here, just safety. We still have plenty more work to do." He smirked, but didn't call me on that little bit of hypocrisy. He just laughed, kneeling down to get to work on disarming the curse. Soon, we'd get the third to last Horcrux destroyed and have a powerful new tool to boot. I couldn't wait to use it.
As usual pat-reon has the advance chapters at that site /malcolmtent hope everyone enjoys.