Chapter 302: Chapter 302: "Shadows in the Alley"
The following day, under the guise of the mysterious wizard who had saved Charles from the graveyard, Harry positioned himself outside the Ministry of Magic. Invisible for added security, he waited patiently, his eyes scanning the steady flow of Ministry workers leaving for the day.
As evening fell and the crowd began to thin, his target finally emerged. Macnair strode out with sly confidence, his eyes darting about, as though always aware of shadows trailing him.
"There you are," Harry murmured, his grip tightening on his wand.
Keeping a safe distance, Harry tailed Macnair as he weaved through the bustling streets of London. The man's movements were deliberate, yet cautious. When Macnair eventually turned into an empty park, Harry prepared to make his move. Clutching the Elder Wand, he focused his intent.
"Imperio," he whispered.
The spell connected flawlessly. Macnair's shoulders relaxed, and his once-alert eyes glazed over, stripped of their vigilance.
Harry had no qualms about using the unforgivables. With his training this summer, he had gotten good at dark magic and dealing with its side effects so he was not affraid of the side effects of the unforgivables if he used them properly.
"Excellent," Harry thought, slipping back into invisibility. This part of the plan had gone smoother than he expected.
He guided the entranced Macnair out of the park and toward a secluded alleyway. It was the perfect spot to execute the next step: a side-along Apparition to a secure location where Harry could extract the information he needed.
As they entered the narrow alley, the sounds of London's busy streets faded into the background. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional drip of water from a leaky pipe were the only sounds that accompanied them.
"Just a bit further," Harry muttered under his breath, scanning the area to ensure it was deserted. Satisfied, he dropped his invisibility and prepared to Apparate.
But suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. His instincts flared—a deep, familiar sense of danger honed through years of vigilance. Something wasn't right.
Harry stilled, his senses sharpening. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a blur of movement in the dim light. Whipping around, he saw a cloaked figure hurtling toward him at an inhuman speed. The figure's face was obscured beneath the hood, but their long, razor-sharp nails gleamed menacingly as they reached for him.
Reacting instantly, Harry shoved Macnair aside, breaking the Imperius Curse in the process. "Stupefy!" he shouted, pointing his wand at the Death Eater. A brilliant red beam struck Macnair squarely, rendering him unconscious before he could even process what was happening.
"One less problem," Harry thought.
The cloaked attacker skidded to a halt just a few paces away, hissing softly. From the shadows, two more figures emerged, flanking the first. Their movements were unnaturally fluid, their glowing eyes piercing through the darkness.
"Vampires," Harry realized, his mind racing. He'd read about them but never encountered one—let alone three.
"Well, well," the first vampire spoke, his accent unfamiliar yet smooth. "What do we have here? A curious little stalker?"
Harry kept his expression calm, though his mind worked furiously. "Vampires working with Voldemort? How fascinating. I didn't realize noble vampires had sunk so low as to serve a wizard."
The second vampire, a striking woman with silver hair and an icy glare, hissed in response. "You need to show respect for your elders. We were terrorizing mortals long before you were even born."
"And yet," Harry countered, his tone dripping with mockery, "here you are, following orders from a wizard who's likely younger than you. What's next? Fetching him tea?"
The silver-haired vampire bristled with fury, her sharp teeth glinting in the faint light. "You dare mock me? You'll regret it. I'll savor every drop of your blood while you scream."
"Enough talk," the third vampire growled, his massive frame looming over the others. His deep voice rumbled like distant thunder. "Let's tear him apart and be done with it."
Harry's lips curved into a slight smile. "By all means, give it your best shot."
The vampires attacked as one, their coordinated movements a testament to years of fighting together. The female went high, the large one low, while the first circled to Harry's blind spot.
But Harry wasn't there anymore.
With the enhanced speed of a knight, Harry had already sidestepped their initial assault. His wand moved in precise arcs, sending a barrage of spells that forced the vampires to scatter.
The large vampire's eyes widened in recognition. "Impossible! He moves like a—"
"Knight," the female vampire finished, her voice tinged with both awe and fear. "Matthias, we face a knight!"
Harry's expression hardened. The fact that they recognized his abilities complicated matters. He couldn't risk them reporting back to Voldemort—or worse, Dumbledore. If either of them learned that all their recent troubles stemmed from the same person, it wouldn't take long for suspicions to land on him. That was a risk Harry couldn't afford.
Keeping his identity a secret wasn't about fear of Voldemort or Dumbledore—it was about protecting his friends and family. He wouldn't allow his enemies to use their lives as leverage against him.
The vampires, oblivious to the fate Harry had already decided for them, conversed quietly.
"A knight? In this age? I thought their practice was extinct," Matthias muttered.
The female vampire scoffed. "Legends and relics," she sneered. "No match for us."
Harry shrugged casually. "Care to test that theory?"
The first vampire's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Gladly."
Without warning, the trio lunged at him again. Harry reacted instantly, his reflexes honed from countless battles.
The fight became a deadly dance of speed and power. Recognizing the threat Harry posed, the vampires abandoned their usual hunting tactics, opting for a more aggressive and chaotic approach. They blurred around him, attacking from every angle with supernatural strength and speed, each strike deadly.
But Harry matched them move for move. His knight training had elevated his physical capabilities far beyond normal human limits, and his mastery of magic gave him an edge they couldn't counter. He weaved effortlessly between their attacks, his wand work conjuring barriers of force and lances of magical energy that kept them at bay.
The first vampire laughed, a mocking tone in his voice. "Impressive magic. But it's not enough."
"Maybe not," Harry replied evenly, "but it keeps things interesting."
He raised his wand, unleashing a volley of Blasting Curses, Confringo, and Cutting Hexes. The vampires dodged with fluid grace, though a few spells grazed them, eliciting snarls of annoyance.
"He's toying with us," the female vampire snapped.
"Then we stop playing," Matthias growled.
The female vampire lunged, her nails gleaming like daggers. Harry twisted aside, using her momentum against her. With a flick of his wand, he cast a silent Cutting Curse. She barely avoided decapitation, but the spell struck her shoulder, drawing first blood.
The large vampire seized the opening, charging at Harry with devastating force. But Harry was ready. With a wandless Blasting Curse, he sent the massive vampire stumbling backward.
"Alright, I've had my fun," Harry said, his tone turning sharp. "Time to get serious."
With a complex wand movement, he conjured chains of magical fire. The flaming chains whipped through the air like serpents, catching the first vampire across the neck. Harry tightened the chain and yanked. The enhanced strength of the fiery chain severed the vampire's head cleanly from his body.
Harry followed up immediately with Fiendfyre, ensuring nothing remained but ashes. He didn't know the full extent of a vampire's abilities and wasn't about to take chances. Leaving no room for retaliation was the safest course.
The remaining two vampires stared in disbelief.
"He… he killed Viktor!" the female vampire cried, her voice tinged with fear.
The large vampire's eyes blazed with fury. "You'll pay for that!"
The two remaining vampires roared and charged, their attacks now reckless, fueled by rage rather than strategy. Harry exploited their blind fury, leading them into crossing each other's paths in their desperation to land a blow.
The female vampire overextended herself, and Harry capitalized. A sharp Cutting Curse found its mark, followed by another blast of Fiendfyre. She screamed as the flames consumed her, leaving only ash in their wake.
"Amara!" the large vampire bellowed, his voice raw with anguish.
Now alone, the towering vampire hesitated. Realizing the futility of his situation, he turned to flee. But Harry was faster. With a flick of his wand, magical ropes shot out, entangling the vampire and bringing him crashing down onto the cobblestones.
"Time to search for some information," Harry muttered, his tone cold and resolute.
The vampire struggled against the magical bindings, its glowing eyes blazing with defiance. "I won't tell you anything," it snarled, venom dripping from every word.
"We'll see about that," Harry replied evenly, stepping closer.
With deliberate caution, Harry placed his hand on the vampire's forehead, his wand at the ready. Focusing his intent, he whispered, "Legilimens."
The spell connected, but instead of memories or thoughts, Harry was met with an impenetrable void. The vampire's mind was fortified, a natural or trained resistance to intrusion blocking his efforts.
"Your kind's mental defenses are impressive," Harry admitted, pulling back and lowering his hand.
The vampire spat at his feet, its expression a mixture of hatred and pride. "Kill me, then. I'll tell you nothing."
Harry nodded slightly, almost respectfully. "So be it." With a final flick of his wand, he cast a sharp Cutting Curse, immediately followed by a surge of Fiendfyre. The roaring flames consumed the vampire entirely, leaving behind only ash.
Harry stepped back, exhaling deeply as the acrid scent of smoke filled the air. "Unfortunate," he said quietly, "but necessary."
Turning his attention to Macnair, Harry scanned the area with several detection spells, ensuring there were no lingering threats or hidden observers. The trap had been obvious in hindsight—the vampires' presence was no coincidence. Someone or something had tipped them off. The question was how they knew to be here and why they were ready for him.
"I need information," Harry thought grimly. "But first, I need to erase all evidence of this encounter."
He moved swiftly, casting a series of powerful cleansing charms. Magical signatures vanished, and the physical traces of the confrontation were meticulously wiped away. He worked more thoroughly than usual; this wasn't the kind of scene he could afford to leave behind.
Satisfied with his efforts, Harry turned his focus back to Macnair. With a wave of his wand, he levitated the unconscious Death Eater, gripping his Elder Wand tightly as he prepared for a series of Apparitions.
"Let's make it difficult for anyone to follow," he mused.
Harry Apparated to a remote forest clearing, then to an abandoned warehouse, and after that to a desolate beach. Each jump created a convoluted trail, designed to confuse even the most skilled trackers. Finally, he arrived at his mountain sanctuary, a hidden fortress where he could interrogate his prisoner in total security.
In the cold, reinforced walls of the sanctuary, Harry lowered Macnair into a sturdy chair, binding him with enchanted ropes. As the Death Eater hung limply, unconscious and unaware, Harry's mind raced with questions.
The involvement of vampires in Voldemort's plans was a troubling new complication. Voldemort had never employed their kind in the canon timeline, and their allegiance raised dangerous possibilities. How had the alliance formed? How widespread was it? What other surprises might Voldemort have in store?
Harry's eyes hardened as he looked down at Macnair's still form. He couldn't afford to take anything for granted anymore. The game had shifted far from the familiar pattern of the original timeline, and he needed to be prepared for every eventuality.
"One way or another," Harry muttered, his voice like steel, "I'll get my answers."
Chapter 303: Chapter 303: "Dark Alliances"
Harry stood in his mountain hideout, the silence broken only by the faint hum of protective wards surrounding the room. Before him, Duncan Macnair sat bound and unconscious in a magically reinforced chair. The room, fortified against both magical and physical escape, reflected Harry's heightened vigilance. After the encounter with the vampires, he wasn't about to let his guard down—not even in his own sanctuary.
"Rennervate," Harry commanded, his wand steady and aimed at the Death Eater.
Macnair stirred, confusion flickering across his face as he awoke. Panic soon followed as he took in his bindings and the sterile, warded environment. Before Macnair could speak or act, Harry struck swiftly with Legilimency, plunging into the depths of the man's mind.
Memories unfurled like a dark tapestry, each thread revealing a web of alliances and strategies far more intricate than Harry had anticipated.
His actions at the graveyard—where he had eliminated Voldemort's inner circle—had caused a greater ripple effect than he realized. Through Macnair's memories, Harry could see how those ripples had grown into relentless waves, reshaping the Dark Lord's plans.
He focused intently on Voldemort's recent actions. Instead of retreating into a paranoid shell after losing his closest followers, Voldemort had adapted. Macnair's mind showed him a calm and calculating Voldemort, making deliberate, measured decisions. Harry couldn't help but notice the stark difference from the deranged creature he remembered from the books.
"The Horcruxes," Harry muttered, pieces falling into place. Destroying them had affected Voldemort more profoundly than he initially thought. "He doesn't look like someone whose soul is splintered anymore."
Memory after memory revealed a Voldemort who was no longer weighed down by madness. His strategies were precise, his decisions deliberate. He no longer lashed out impulsively but responded with a cold, logical efficiency that made him even more dangerous.
Harry's brow furrowed as a theory began to take shape. "When the Horcruxes were destroyed," he murmured, "the soul fragments didn't pass on. They rejoined the original."
It was a twisted kind of logic, but it fit. The research on Horcruxes was sparse, focused mainly on their creation, with little insight into their destruction. Even Voldemort himself might not fully understand why his fractured mind had healed or why his thoughts were clearer.
But Harry was certain of one thing: the destruction of the Horcruxes had come at a cost. While Voldemort might now possess a complete soul, it was weaker than before. Harry and Sirius had seen firsthand the benefits of absorbing the soul energy from the destroyed Horcruxes. That power was gone—diminished—but Voldemort's newfound clarity more than compensated for the loss of raw strength.
"A sharper, more rational Voldemort," Harry thought grimly. "Weaker in raw power, perhaps, but far more dangerous in every other way."
Delving deeper into Macnair's memories, Harry uncovered a treasure trove of Voldemort's plans and secrets. As a trusted member of Voldemort's new inner circle, Macnair was privy to nearly everything, and the scope of what Harry learned was staggering.
Voldemort, in his urgency to rebuild his forces, had decided to ally with Grindelwald's leftover followers—a group of powerful old wizards who called themselves the Schwarzwald Zirkel. These remnants of Grindelwald's movement had long operated in the shadows, preserving their resources, influence, and wealth. Macnair's memories revealed Voldemort's frequent meetings with the leader of the Zirkel, Magnus Blutreich, a shrewd and cunning man who commanded loyalty from his group.
What surprised Harry most was the Zirkel's offer to Voldemort: resources, political influence, and gold in exchange for Voldemort's help in freeing their former master, Grindelwald, from his secret prison. This puzzled Harry at first—Nurmengard was a well-known location, and with their vast influence, the Zirkel should have been able to confirm Grindelwald's whereabouts easily.
Then, clarity struck. Dumbledore. The old headmaster had clearly taken precautions to obscure the truth about Grindelwald's imprisonment. Whatever Dumbledore had done, it had worked for decades, leaving Grindelwald's exact location a mystery even to his most loyal followers.
But Voldemort had promised to help. Confident in his ability to subdue Grindelwald if necessary, Voldemort had agreed to assist the Zirkel in locating and freeing their leader. Macnair's memories showed that they were dangerously close to achieving their goal.
In the meantime, the Zirkel provided Voldemort with vast resources, political connections, and enough gold to fund the regrowth of his army. They had even played a pivotal role in Voldemort's ousting of Dumbledore from the Wizengamot, ensuring that the Dark Lord's influence over the Ministry grew unchecked. Now, they were actively working to support Minister Fudge, using their influence to discredit and silence anyone seeking to investigate Voldemort or prepare for the coming war.
The wizarding world was in far more danger than Harry had realized.
And the danger didn't end there. The Schwarzwald Zirkel had also facilitated contact between Voldemort and the Carpathian Covenant, one of the oldest and most powerful vampire covens in Eastern Europe. Harry saw through Macnair's memories that Voldemort had held secret meetings with the Covenant's leader, Vladimir Dracul XII.
The deal they had struck was as terrifying as it was simple: the vampires would have free reign over the wizarding world once Voldemort came to power. In exchange, they would lend their considerable strength to his cause. Freed from the constraints of the Statute of Secrecy and the fear of wizarding retaliation, the vampires eagerly agreed. The promise of unrestricted hunting and the freedom to operate openly was more than enough to bind them to Voldemort's vision.
As a result, vampires had now become integral to Voldemort's growing army. They weren't just supporting his forces—they were training the next generation of Death Eaters, enhancing their combat experience.
Harry's expression darkened as he pieced it all together. The Death Eaters were still in their early stages of rebuilding, but once they reached full strength, Voldemort planned to launch a devastating assault on the Ministry. This wasn't the impulsive, reckless Voldemort of the canon timeline; this Voldemort was patient, calculated, and frighteningly resourceful.
The wizarding world was hurtling toward catastrophe.
Voldemort's forces were growing rapidly, becoming stronger and more coordinated with each passing day. The only barriers preventing them from completely overtaking the British wizarding world were Dumbledore—and, of course, the mysterious wizard codenamed by them as Blue Eyes: Harry.
Recognizing this, Voldemort, with the help of the vampires, had intensified efforts to uncover Harry's identity and trace his movements. This new alliance was the reason Harry had faced vampires earlier when attempting to quietly capture Macnair.
While Harry had been meticulous in covering his tracks during his interrogation of Selwyn, it hadn't been enough. The vampires, with their heightened senses, had noticed subtle discrepancies that others might have missed. Selwyn's implausible tale of falling asleep immediately upon returning home had only fueled their suspicions.
Their investigation led them to Selwyn's manor grounds, where they detected faint traces of lingering magic—something Harry hadn't accounted for when masking his presence. Armed with this discovery, the vampires took their findings to Voldemort, who concluded that the so-called Blue Eyes had been responsible. Voldemort reasoned that since Blue Eyes hadn't gleaned anything useful from Selwyn, he would strike again.
A trap was set. Each member of Voldemort's inner circle was secretly shadowed by a trio of vampires, ready to ambush the mysterious attacker. This plan culminated in the confrontation Harry had faced during Macnair's capture. But the vampires had gravely underestimated him—Harry's prowess had proven far too much for the trio and their already subdued Death Eater companion.
"Fascinating," Harry murmured, withdrawing from Macnair's mind. "Your master has been busy."
"You won't get away with this," Macnair gasped, his voice hoarse but defiant. "The vampires will hunt you down. Both they and my lord will unleash their full force to destroy you. You're doomed!" His harsh laughter echoed through the room.
Harry's expression remained calm, his tone icy. "I can't wait for the challenge. You were too dull to make this interesting. But thank you for the valuable information about the Schwarzwald Zirkel and the vampires. It will help me prepare for what's to come."
Harry then turned his attention to Macnair's fate. The choice was clear. The three dead vampires would already alert Voldemort that something had gone wrong, and Harry couldn't risk Macnair rejoining the fight. Unlike Dumbledore, Harry didn't believe in second chances—not in a war where lives hung in the balance.
A quick Stunning Spell ended the conversation, and Macnair slumped unconscious once more. With a wave of his wand, Harry levitated the Death Eater and carried him to the dungeons below. Another Death Eater bloodline was extinguished that night.
Returning to his study, Harry began strengthening the sanctuary's defenses. The vampires' magic might possess tracking capabilities he was unaware of, and it was better to be overprepared. The recent events had proven that his enemies were growing bolder and more dangerous.
As he worked, his mind raced with larger concerns. The alliance between Voldemort, the Schwarzwald Zirkel, and the Carpathian Covenant presented a far greater threat than he had anticipated. Voldemort, even in his current, less-prepared state, already had enough strength to seize the Ministry. Years of corruption and calculated moves to weaken the Auror Department had left the Ministry dangerously fragile.
The only things holding Voldemort back were Harry and Dumbledore. And with Dumbledore now deprived of his "death stick" and weakened by age, the burden of defending the wizarding world increasingly fell on Harry's shoulders.
As night fell over the sanctuary, Harry stood by the window, gazing out at the moonlit mountains. Somewhere out there, a sane and calculating Voldemort was assembling his forces. Ancient vampires were hunting for him. And hidden in his prison, Grindelwald waited.
Harry's grip tightened on the Elder Wand as he steeled himself for the battles to come. There was no more time to wait. The wizarding world's survival rested on his next moves.
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