Chapitre 7: Chapter 7: The Devil At Salles
THE BINDING OF FATES
CHAPTER 7
THE DEVIL AT SALLES
Summary: Harry convinces Jon and Tonks to immediately leave for France to rescue a child kidnapped by the Diablo.
It was after midnight in France. Jon and himself were walking out of a forest into farmland with a stretcher between them. On the stretcher was a cloth covered figure. Tonks came out following after them, her eyes red and puffy. Ollivander had his hat in his hands, shaking his head in remorse.
A group of maybe one hundred muggles were awaiting them at the edge where the field met the forest. They held torches and pitchforks, weapons of the farming trade. Some even had rifles. Most of them held flashlights, some were accompanied by dogs.
A couple ran forward, screaming in distress.
"You found him? My boy, no my boy!" the mother wailed. The father was distraught, rushing forward to lift the cover and see. On the stretcher was the body of a seven year old boy, eyes missing and mouth open, bared in a final scream. Upon seeing his son, the father slumped to the ground, unconscious.
"I am sorry," Ollivander said softly to the mother. "We found him like this, it was too late."
Harry snapped upon hearing the lie. A pain deep inside was growing stronger every second. And with the pain, his wand began to thrum with energy.
"Shut up, old man. This is all your fault." He closed his eyes shut, rage igniting every pore in body. He drew his wand, and without further ado, cast the Killing Curse on the Master Wand smith, hatred burning through his veins. Jon froze, not believing what he was seeing. "We should have never dealt with this filth," he snarled, pointing at the muggles. "Rats and stinking vermin."
"Enflamare!" fire shot out of his wand, hot pure rage. He swept his hand over the crowd, igniting everyone who was close. The red of the fire mirrored in the red in his eyes.
The screams of the burning people woke him up from the horrible nightmare.
Harry woke up. It was very early the morning of the excursion. The plan was to meet up with the others at King's Cross and catch the train to Dover leaving at nine. He took a deep, calming breath and got out of bed, double checking his packed trunk before going to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
Harry knew that any dream concerning Dark magic was not to be ignored. He decided to make an effort to help mitigate any chances that this mission could go down with such dire outcomes. He dressed quickly, put his invisibility cloak in his knapsack and made his way to the dead end to summon the knight bus.
Fifteen minutes later he was invisible walking up Diagon Alley towards Jon's place. He turned off into the narrow side alley that lead to the back side of Diagon. There was lamp light shining from the upstairs window and another at the window downstairs. It was still early, only six o'clock in the morning.
"Caw, Caw," Harry called out, the worst imitation of a crow ever heard in the living world.
"Caw! Caw!" he said again, louder.
"Caw, Caw," came a reply. Jon opened the top window. "You keep to your habit of waking my sorry arse every morning, Harry of House Hollow. I'm coming down." Harry nodded, and went down to the small side door. A minute later he was inside sitting at the patio overlooking the muggle nature park on the other side of the wall. The sun was now coming up.
"Saw your light on, Snow. You afraid of the dark?" Harry teased.
"No," Jon hesitated. "The things you only find out when you actually move in. The muggle barrier is almost right on top of the edge of this property. And the wards that empower it chill the night air. Usually I am not bothered by the cold, but I believe it somehow taps into my magic to power it . I ..just leave the lamp burning. It ..is more comfortable, that is all."
"Hm. So what you been up to since we left yesterday? My mind has been spinning ever since Ollivander told me about the Diablo."
"I have been modifying the camouflaged robes. I mailed Miss Tonks for sewing and alteration spells. She sent me some tips. I seem to have been successful. Want to see?"
"Sure."
Jon went into his bedroom. A few minutes later a voice came out to Harry. "See?"
"What?"
"Good," Jon touched Harry on his shoulder. Harry sprung up from his chair like a scared girl. "It works." Harry stared hard at where the voice was coming. Harry pointed his wand at him.
"Lumos."
Jon was now visible under the bright light.
"Ah ha! Now at least we know the limitations of it. Very neat ninja costume by the way."
"Ninja?" Jon asked. "What is that?"
"Yes, ninja. Long story short, assassins that used stealth instead of brute force."
"Ah," Jon said. "I hate those guys."
"You know what I hate? When powerful wizards manipulate others," Harry grumbled.
"Oh?" Jon said. "You don't seem to be one inclined to self loathing."
"What?" Harry said. "Where did that one come from?" Harry frowned.
"'Powerful wizards manipulating others'." Jon removed the headpiece and pulled back the cowl of his modified robes. His head came into view. "You do not know the true scope of your own power, and influence."
"You're seeing things. My magic is crippled, pathetic. I am not manipulating anybody, either," Harry argued.
"The Lion roars. His allies will hear the call, his enemies will cower in awe."
"Voices eh? Stop with the prophetic sayings," Harry grumbled. "Unless it's really important. Ah fuck it. Better to tell me. Prophecies are the worst. Never anything good comes from it."
Jon laughed.
"Tonks said it a few times. Remember when she said she wants to be where the action is, Harry?" Jon explained. "Your friends, all of them that I have met so far, acquiescence to your commands, or do it willingly and with prompt acceptance. Knowledge, right now, is your power. Knowing what can happen and intimate details about the people in this world is your strength, just as much as it is my handicap. My newfound magic is strong, but I have no clue how to use it. However, I have faith in my training, and survival instinct. We are vastly different from your soft friends."
"'Immortal heroes', huh?" Harry sighed.
"Exactly. The Master of Death speaks, mortals and even threstrals take heed," Jon grinned.
"Just like how the Lord of the Black walks, and girls swoon with rapturous applause," Harry countered.
"That, is not true," Jon dismissed. "So. What brings you here at this godforsaken sunrise hour?"
"We've got to find a way to avoid what I think Ollivander is going to do to 'help'. Don't get me wrong, I am not afraid to take risks. However, I risk what I can control, not other innocents. Never again. That doesn't work in my favour."
"What do you think he is going to do?"
"The man is completely nutter over his craft. He sees this as a challenge only my old wand and our unique circumstances can create. These bracers would be his next masterpiece, and even more so because he got the Chosen one to be his apprentice... imagine when the wizarding world finds out that The Boy Who Lived crafted such weapons. I believe he would go to great lengths to see this happen."
Harry got up out of the chair, pacing.
"It all adds up," Harry explained. "The Ollivanders have never taken outside apprentices. He knows an opportunity when it strikes, did you see his face when you got the feathers? He wants this to happen. He needs it to happen."
"Harry. Stop. What do you think he is going to do?" Jon commanded, his eyes narrowing.
"He's going to target a child and deliberately orchestrate it such that he is lost in the Diablo's territory. Then we save him, and the cycle of Dark practice is stopped, countered by the heroics of the rescue. My problem is that is way too risky. "
"The hell?" Jon snarled. "How do you know this?"
"I dreamt that we were leaving the forest with the child's corpse, and Ollivander lied to the parents and the entire village search party on how it happened. I lost it, completely."
"Lost it?" Jon queried, folding his arms.
"Myself, my magic, everything. I went Dark, Jon. And my dreams matter. I've learnt that lesson a long time ago, the hard way."
"What did you do in this dream?"
"It was a slaughter." Harry breathed out hard. "I killed the old man and burned them all."
"By the Gods," Jon breathed.
"And I think he is manipulating this ever so subtly that he will want us to finish this task, get good with wand making, only then will be able to make our real wands. And I desperately need it, I'm already at a disadvantage without being able to use curses."
"I see," Jon nodded. "This... dream... is all, conjecture, correct? Or was it prophecy?"
"I don't think it's a prophecy, just a possibility. One that must not happen."
"Then we cancel this trip," Jon summarized. "And be done with it."
"I don't think we have that choice if we want to get armed again," Harry said. "What I propose is that we do some digging at the Hunter Guild and find out if there are any bounties for a known Diablo, wherever that may be. Maybe a family has lost their child and need guild hunters to retrieve him. I don't know. What I do know is that we can't be the real reason for the child to go missing. I am putting my foot down on that."
"How about we talk to him and ask him if there is a substitution for the claw?"
"Knowing how these old sages work," Harry admitted. "The Diablo claw is probably the most convenient. I doubt he would have an alternative that was simpler. Most likely it would be the opposite. "
"We don't have much time to find this information, Harry."
"I know," Harry pointed at Jon's camo gear. "But your timing is perfect. I was hoping to go down to Vince Greyback at the guild and ask him about Diablo bounties. I was going to lend you my invisibility cloak so you can be my backup , but maybe we can both go undetected through Diagon and Knockturn. Just to be safe. Witch Weekly reporters are everywhere, it seems."
"No time like the present," Jon agreed. "Let me grab my stuff."
Ten minutes later they were outside of the Hunter's guild three quarters way down Knockturn Alley. There was noise and voices coming out the windows. Harry and Jon looked around, making sure no one was watching. Harry removed his invisibility cloak. Jon pulled down his hood, pulled the mask wrapped around his face and threw a normal cloak over his modified camouflage gear. They pushed open the door and went inside.
The place was pretty full compared to last time they came with Tonks. Harry brought this cloak hood as far down as possible over his face. Jon simply watched the patrons with a sharp eye. He subtly drew his dagger out of the sheath and set it back in again, making sure it was free if necessary. A few wizards paused and looked at them, then went back to their own drinking or talking.
"Come on," Harry said, and went to the counter.
"Greyback," Jon called to the bartender.
"Ah, the Crows' clan, was it?" he greeted with a drunken slur. "What do you want?"
"Are there any Diablo bounties available?" Jon asked.
"Whoa there lads. That isn't fare for you young un's, I mean, Lord Black and Friend who must not be named. You got to be a bit higher in the rankings. "
"We are fully capable of handling it. We just want the information," Jon demanded.
"There is no insurance for next of Kin in your contract. Only what you leave in your will," he challenged Jon. "You better know what you are fucking doing. There are no second chances."
Harry laughed.
"What? You think I'm funny?" Greyback snarled at Harry. Harry pushed back his cowl and stared him the face.
"I am the living embodiment of second chances. Do you have bounties or not?" Harry said in a low tone.
"Oh fuck. This can't be happening," Greyback said. "Shit. Hear what, if the Boy who Lived says he's ready, he's fucking ready. Yeah I got two still open. That shit has been going like wildfire these past few months. Like an infestation. Some of the previous trails have gone cold. We got a fresh one in, and guess what lads - it came in this fucking morning."
"Where?" Harry asked.
"Pyrenees. A village north of Beauxbatons. Called Salles. The village has been slowly getting smaller in numbers over the last decade. The muggles believe that it's cursed. The things that happen to them and the bounties the couple of magic sensitive living there send to South Hampton' AK guild ... and even the American guilds across the pond are grimier than ever. The bounties have been steadily growing in difficulty over the past twenty years. We get the trickle on effect. We're in it more for profits...we want jobs with a regular stream of monetary rewards...it's better returns than that Hit Wizard guild south. Those guys really do it for glory. The French based guilds also are gettin' dodgy. They sometimes create shit to encourage foreign wizards to come. I don't know why, but we've been getting disappearances there ...three of AK's and one of ours over the last two years haven't come back. It is getting pretty hot."
"Disappearances? They dead?" Harry asked.
"We got an old timer doing his investigation on two of AK's men. One he knows was killed. The other two are still at large. Our guy, well, we believe the French drew him in and snuffed 'im. Can't finger who or why, but that's what the guys here think."
"The French Pub at the port?" Jon asked.
"Yeah. You heard about that?" Greyback asked.
"I know things," Jon said. "Give us the bounty details for the Diablo at Salles."
"Three kids have gone missing over the past few months. The last reported one was last night. Here," he turned around and tapped his wand on the notice board behind him by the scotch tumblers. A duplicate snapped into existence. "Fresh off the owls' leg. You're the first to bite. Bounty is currently five hundred galleons for deceased target recovery and two thousand for 'Alive and Well' on any of the three children. The bounty for the Diablo itself is twenty five large, whole," Greyback explained.
"Whole?" Harry asked.
"Yes. Properly dissected and shipped fresh may earn you more at the Apothecary's. But that's what the guilds' association bounty stands at... for the corpse whole that is. Easier to bring in a dead body than to mess up and get killed trying to cut it up. Let the professional curse breakers deal with that shit."
"And what makes the villagers think it was magic, and not some normal person kidnapping them?" Jon asked.
"The sleep of the entire village is affected Lord Black," Vince explained, laughing. "You guys are rookie as shit. Diablo's also fuck with the dreams of the people who know the victims. Lads, in good faith I really can't give this to you, but...you guys signed up. This is A rank mission. It's your call."
"Who is our contact? It says here Salles via Beauxbatons."
"The defense teacher at the school is the intermediary for the villagers. The original request came in from Mr. and Mrs. Robert Rabiot. The school is the financier and business contact. We believe that the villagers all put up what they can, which probably isn't much unless they're loaded, and Beauxbatons sends the request and pays us. They work out something after. It seems their headmistress is taking direct affront of dark magic happening on their doorstep."
"She should," Harry said with conviction.
"Man, Hogwarts is worse. That forest is infested with stuff. Just yesterday I got some requests for quotation on fresh threstral parts. And a wild one in heat too, according to the amount of gallons of blood that they recovered. Those blokes are going to make a mint. And that's not counting on some crazy shit I've been hearing from some folk. Monsters in and out of the castle. It is crazy even up here lads."
"Oh?" Harry probed. "And what prices you gave them?"
"Starting bid is two hundred galleons per gallon of blood. And it seems they got three. And the bones are worth probably fifty galleons a rib , and one hundred for the legs. The real value is the tail hair, which is going for fifteen galleons an inch."
"Wow," Harry said. "So why don't hunters farm the forest then?"
"It's all about the precision of the target, and the timing. Threstrals are sneaky bastards who won't attack unless provoked. And the potency of the animal is peak when they are in heat. And then, the effect is doubled if it is the alpha, and tripled if killed in single combat. A lot of magical arithmancy stuff at play there. There have been some counterfeit kills, but the samples sent yesterday were the real deal. The AG members here who analyzed the sample are trying hard to find out who did it," he pointed to a group of wizards in a heated discussion.
"Hm," Jon smiled. "I wish them good luck."
"Rare ingredients are rare for a reason, lads. This Diablo isn't hard to take down, it is the circumstances that make the job difficult. Speed. You need speed to catch it. Only three victims have been successfully recovered in their territory, and that was hundreds of years ago. Similar to big snakes, when they feed, they rest in physical form and are vulnerable. A week, tops. By that time though," Vince drew his finger across the neck. "The victim is rotting in a ditch already."
Harry grimaced. That dream was probably too close to comfort. Did Ollivander really think he could orchestrate this? Or was it only his suspicious nature of living a life fighting against dark magic that cast doubt on the friendly wand sage?
He hated doubting himself. "We'll take it," Harry said. "Fuck the trains. Set up the portkey connections."
"Fine. Its ten galleons for return trip to Dover. Once you are there show your guild pass and Rook will link you the Calais Camp portkey for around fifteen. From there you got three ways to head south; train, broom, or French Visitor's portkey, which takes about a couple days. For this mission, if you want to be the hero, take broomstick. Remember you need speed. If you want to do it easy when the Diablo is resting, take the train. Clean, easy, twenty five once you find it. If you're good at fighting dark creatures that is."
"How long did this come in?" Jon asked suspiciously.
"Last night... erm.. this morning around two. Guild owls are fast, so it probably took one hour to reach us. And there is one more clue, most reported Diablo attacks are rampant the night after the full moon, and attack at midnight. So, if all things considered, the child was most probably snatched six hours ago."
"The Crows' Vambrace would take this," Jon said, determined. He counted out the ten galleons for the portkey, and then gave another ten. "For you. The information is worth it. Victory will be ours, let Glory shine her light upon us this day." Jon bowed.
"So be it. Glory to the Guild," Greyback responded formally, shocked by Lord Black's old school declaration.
Harry shook his head as they left the pub. "Victory? Glory?" he asked in question.
"When Rangers need to go into Battle against a worthwhile enemy, that is one of the sayings to reinforce that it is not only our paid duty that we serve, but to the Glory of the profession. Rangers usually have quiet days, but when the call comes, we must be fierce, and swift."
"Your face looks like death itself, Jon," Harry noted as Jon strode out of Knockturn.
"I am not a wizard yet. But I do see fucking coincidences that are highly unlikely happening as we speak. We must rescue this child, and kill the demon. We need Mistress Tonks within minutes."
"And Ollivander?"
"Yes, and Ollivander. He knows how to destroy it, which to me, is secondary to rescuing the child. He can meet us there if he wishes. He is not of great import at the moment. His experience would be necessary for us to permanently fix this situation, but the child comes first."
"Agreed. I wish I had my old Hermione with us," Harry said. "She knows things. Things that make the difference with unknowns like this."
"Aurors supposed to know about dark magic. Mistress Tonks would have some sort of knowledge."
"She's not an auror yet."
"We will prevail." Jon walked to the clerk at the owl's apothecary. He wrote two quick messages and paid the fee. The two boys went back to Jon's place. Jon took off the top of his robes. He buckled the repaired light armor over his undershirt. Then he threw the camo robes over that. He strapped on the weapons belt along with his wand and dagger. Then he threw the normal cloak over his ensemble and grabbed the unstrung longbow. If you opened the front, all you would see is the black inner lining of the back of the cloak. Jon was living up to his adopted name to the fullest.
Harry felt woefully under-dressed in his fashionable white robes. At least he had his invisibility cloak in his backpack.
By the time Jon and Harry were ready to go, Tonks was knocking on the door.
"Its bloody six thirty!" She said to Jon. "Aren't we to be at the station for nine!" She blinked at Harry's dark expression. "Oh. Hiya Harry. What are you doing here?"
"We're going to southern France to rescue a child. And kill the Diablo. We have the portkey to Dover, then connect to Calais camp. After, we need to get broomsticks at Calais and high tail it down to the village Salles. That flight might be an hour if we push all out."
"You're kidding, right? No don't answer that ...I know you two by now. I wore my leather armor just in case it was something like this. Jon said to be ready for action. Is that some sort of code you guys use to transform into Heroes or something? "
"No," Jon said. "'Winter is coming' is the battle cry for that."
"Oh. Right you are then," Tonks said, dumbstruck. "Never a slow day with you guys," she sighed. Her face turned serious. "Let's rock."
Jon retrieved the portkey and held it in the centre of the three of them. It was a small sculpture of a Wizard in battle with a Chimaera. Harry and Tonks hovered their hands over the statue. Jon looked at the portkey; a solemn, determined expression on his face. He looked at the others. "At times like this, it is custom for warriors to say something."
Tonks and Harry stared at Jon. In a low voice he announced:
"To Arms! Strike, the Crow's Vambrace!" The statue glowed blue, infused with magic from his voice.
All three touched the portkey and vanished.
They reappeared in a cellar with a marked runic circle encompassing the entire floor. The lines of the circle glowed red, then faded into a pulsing yellow. Tonks and Harry were laying face down sprawled on the floor. Only Jon was crouched on one knee, his head dipped low. Electrostatic currents of magic swirled around him as he rose to his feet.
"Oh cripes man," Harry complained. Even his entry was heroic.
Jon helped Tonks to her feet and went up the stairs. Harry trotted to catch up. There was a wizard seated at a reclining chair, sleeping with his feet propped on the desk, his head back, mouth wide open. Jon smashed his hand on the table.
"Wake up. Where is Rook?" Jon demanded.
The wizard abruptly dropped his feet and rubbed his face from sleep. "I'm the night shift," he yawned. He looked at the clock on the wall. It read six thirty four. "He comes in for 8. What do you want Mr...?"
"I am Lord Black. I need immediate portkey transport to Calais. How much is it?"
"That's twenty-one galleons for the three of you." The ICOP wizard began shuffling in his desk for rolled parchment. He took a pair of spectacles out of his robes and put them on. "Guild association papers and writ of goods inventory traveling out of Her Majesty's kingdom."
Jon brought out the Apothecary's license and placed the galleons on the table. "We are not taking goods."
The ICOP wizard looked at their paperwork, then scrutinized the trio. "You guys look young. Please step on the designated rune circle to scan for ingested poisons, enchantments and other questionable artifacts." He pointed to a circle on an open area of the office. There was a cage hanging menacingly low from chains over that area.
Jon stepped in the circle. It pulsed once, then nothing. "Good. Next!" Jon stepped aside. Harry went next. It pulsed once, then blinked orange, then pulsed yellow again. The ICOP wizard frowned.
"Dabbling in a spot of potion, have you lad?" the wizard asked.
"No, nothing really. A scent nullifying potion to help nausea. I was sick." The ICOP wizard stamped Harry's papers.
"Hm. Next!"
Tonks went in the circle, and the circle pulsed once, then nothing. "Good. Here is your portkey. " This was a miniature sculpture of a weighted scale. "Maximum of ten days stay on business before you have to return to lengthen it. Safe journey," he grunted, heading off into the kitchenette to heat water for tea.
The trio touched this and was transported into another cellar. The smells here were different, it smelled of breakfast and tea. Harry was a bit more prepared for the portkey effects, he was now on his hands and knees instead of prone on the relatively clean floor. Tonks was still flat, cursing at the indignity of it all. John was rising once again from his crouch, magic swirling around him.
"How do you do that?" Harry asked, irritated.
"Abdominal core strength, Harry of House Hollow. You are physically weak," Jon replied as he helped Tonks to her feet, who shrugged off his arm, embarrassed.
"House Hollow?" Tonk's asked, confused.
"Godric's Hollow he means," Harry explained. "Private joke." They went up the stairs into a breakfast cafe. "I'll ask about the brooms." Harry walked to the person serving behind the counter.
"Bonjour. Trois Brooms, the fastest you have, s'il vous plait." Even to his own ears the broken french was horrible.
The bartender nodded, pointing out the window. Harry followed his direction and walked out the door, Tonks and Jon following him out. Across the road was a Magical sporting goods store. They walked in.
"Bonjour," he repeated. "Three of your fastest brooms, please."
"Oui," the young female clerk said. "One hundred and fifty for one."
Jon and Harry looked at each other. "We don't have enough," Jon said, doubtfully. They checked their money bags, and only came up with one hundred and forty in total. They did not think to take all their gold with them.
"Do you accept Gringotts credit note?" Tonks asked.
"Oui," the clerk said. "It is More that way. One hundred seventy five for one broom."
"Done," Jon agreed, agitated. Time was slipping away. The clerk provided a runic board similar to what Bogrod had at Gringotts. Jon nicked his finger and placed it on the two spots provided. The young clerk took a bill parchment, wrote on it the items and cost, then placed it on the board. The parchment soaked up the little bit of blood, and the vault numbers came up.
"Please Sign," she said, smiling. "Lord Black." Jon did so, and the clerk gave them a duplicate for the receipt. She went in the back, and called out a name. "Gaston!" she shouted. "Trois Quicksilver, vite!"
After two minutes, an older man came out hovering three brooms wrapped in brown paper.
"A map and broom compass, please," Harry said, remembering last minute.
"Oui, three galleons for three sets."
They paid, took the brooms and exited the shop. The sun was finally beginning to warm the morning.
"Jon. Command the broom to fly in front of you. Stick close to me by leaning forward slightly. "
Jon opened his new broom. "Fly," he said, and it hovered dutifully in front of him. He climbed aboard, gripping tightly. Harry and Tonks jumped on theirs and took off, making sure Jon was following. Within minutes of flying, Jon seemed to have gotten the hang of it and now veered his broom in the wake of the other two, keeping pace.
The journey south was swift and uneventful. Harry had to give credit to the manufacturers, this definitely was a broom made for high speed straight line travel. It felt sturdy and arrow straight, not flighty and twitch sensitive as his prized Firebolt. Within the hour, they were closing down on the main village of Salles.
To his horror, Harry recognized the farmland and forest boundary from his dream. The way the land undulated, the flock of lamb and even the old abandoned cart was eerily familiar.
"Stop," Harry said, raising his fist. "The Diablo is in that forest."
"How?" Tonks said over the roaring wind.
"He dreamt of this place," Jon replied. "Trust in him."
Harry circled above the forest. He let his magic guide him, his instinct of sensing the presence of Dark magic feeling like an uncomfortable itch on the back of his neck. There was something here, but the area was too broad to narrow down an exact location. He halted mid air, turning in to the others.
"Erlkings steal children. This we know. The Diablo is a nastier version to this dark creature. Tonks, the child might still be alive. Do you know of any muggle tracking spell?"
"Yes, but... it is actually a line of sight tracking beacon to follow them from a distance. Not a detection spell...wait.." Tonks thought a second. "I do know of a spell that detects human listeners or hidden wizards, it is more of a counter eavesdropping barrier. It will glow red if someone is nearby."
"Show it to Jon," Harry ordered.
"Imedacio homenum revelio," she demonstrated the wand movement and targeted an area directly below. It sputtered out before it even reached the canopy of trees.
"I caught something like Immediate vicinity in the translation." Harry advised. "Is there a broader version?"
"I suppose that would mean a lasso wave instead of a twirl, and probably a flourish instead of a jab at the end. Let me try..." She mimed the motion first for practice, then recited, "Maior Homenum Revelio!"
A globe of magic encompassed the party, a nice shining green that dissipated in strength as the globe grew larger and wider. The magic effect was visible on the canopy below them, but it faded away, showing no signs of detection.
"We need to get lower. We will rake the area. Tonks keep repeating that spell, Jon try to get a feel for what she is doing. That wand is a cannon. Hopefully it can do the barrier class spells as well, we might need it."
Harry dived lower, followed by the others. He closed his eyes periodically, trying his best to feel the presence of the dark creature . He was hearing Tonks repeating the spell systematically as they skimmed the top of the trees. Jon was trying to get the spell, but his attempts fizzled and crackled even after trying his best.
"Harry, why don't you try?" Tonks asked, frustrated. They were scouring the forest for five minutes and still nothing.
"My magic is wonky. And this wand is only good for two class of spells, so far. Lumos and Winguardium."
"Your finger cutting spell seems to work," Jon shouted over the wind.
"Yes. It is the only exception that does actually," Harry shouted back. "Wait. Ollivander was also perplexed how I managed to do it properly. At the time I thought it was a technicality, but now..." he looked strangely at Tonks, then his finger. "It might be ..." Harry stopped immediately. "I have an idea. Lets land and we'll have to play a game of hide and seek."
"This is the craziest theory I've ever heard, Jon," Tonks said. She and Jon were on foot, walking with the broomsticks along the edge of the forest. "Harry's gone nuts." She cast the revealing spell again. "It just doesn't make sense."
"Trust in him," Jon repeated. "He constantly questions the status quo of magic, it is his special trait that makes him a great wizard. Keep trying."
"Trying to randomly catch him with this spell when he is under an invisibility cloak," she said aloud. "And he didn't even say why we are wasting time with this stupid game," she cast the spell again. The area pulsed yellow then a red outline emerged, disappearing within the blink of an eye. Tonks cast again at the direction she last saw it. Now it definitely outlined a human shape.
"Well done," Harry said, removing his cloak. "To the air again. Lets test out my theory."
Airborne again, Harry practiced the motion for the far reaching global reveal spell. Jon frowned.
"Harry wait," he said. "The spell outlined you when Mistress Tonks succeeded. We will tip our advantage of surprise if we alert the Diablo."
"Damn, I didn't think of that. You're right." Harry thought a second, remembering the clues Greyback gave them. "Speed. We need speed and accuracy. How good are you with that bow?"
"Fair enough for up to two hundred meters, depending on wind. "
"And if you were flying double, would you be able to shoot?"
"Yes, but...arrows. I have none."
"Tonks, can you transfigure arrows for Jon?"
"No problem," she agreed.
"Here is the plan. If this works, we would be able locate the child and/or the diablo with the expanding spell. If the Diablo pokes his head out to see who cast it, Jon would ride double with Tonks and get the shot off. It's very resistant to spells, but weak against normal bludgeoning or even piercing. The trick is to match our flight speed with the expanding globe, so as soon as I get feedback, we change course and attack the red outlines before the bugger knows what's up. If it's the child, I will grab him with magic or by hand if necessary. You two are to be right behind me, and attack the Diablo if it tries anything." Tonks and Jon nodded. "I will handle the extra broom, Tonks you pilot for Jon."
"Sounds good," Jon said. He dug in his robes for the bowstring. After stringing up his bow, he accepted the hastily transfigured arrows and quiver. "Milady, please shrink and hold unto this cloak for me." Jon took off his cloak and handed it to Tonks. Tonks eyes widened as Jon raised his mask and covered his head with the hood. Only his onyx gloves and the bow and arrows were now visible. His broom came closer, and with some tricky climbing, he settled behind her, his legs snaking over her hips and locking his ankles under the broom shaft. The back of his thighs were pressing on top her hers, his body snug on her backside. Tonks handed Harry Jon's broom. Harry now rode double on the two Quicksilvers.
"Guys look!" Tonks said, pointing. A small stream of smoke was coming out of the forest a few miles down.
"Seems like the bastard is cooking." Harry cursed.
"Enough talk, lets attack," Tonks said.
"Agreed," Jon said. "It is time for action. Winter has come," he declared, putting an arrow between his teeth and notching another on the string with a relaxed grip. Harry took a breath and began the lasso movement.
"Maior Homenum Revelio!" he shouted.
The effect was immediate and devastating. A bright blue pulse of magic erupted from Harry's wand, expanding in a wide circle. It shot out from his position and Harry put the broom through its paces, casting the spell again while gunning it at top speed. On the third cast the spell crossed the smoke and two red outlines reflected back towards them. Banking left into a hard dive under the canopy of the trees, Harry made a dipping circular arc to attack the location of the two figures from the flank. Dipping and dodging through the trees they came upon a small stream with a hovel embedded in the rock on its bank.
They zipped over the water towards the source of the smoke. There was an ugly red creature, about four feet in height with devil horns and a nasty rusted farmer's pitchfork scooping a fresh animal carcass into a massive cauldron, a fire burning merrily below it. Harry shot past the creature, spotting a tied up sack that was struggling and rolling on its own near to the cookpot.
Phffet Phffet!
"TAKE THE-" Harry was shouting over his shoulder as he zoomed past the hovel , but he needn't have bothered. Before he finished the command the creature was already on the ground, two arrows embedded in it. One was in the head, the other in the chest. There was a splash and Harry and Tonks put on the brakes, fishtailing midair to a halt. Jon had immediately dove in and was now swimming to the bank. Within a minute he started climbing the rocks and dashed towards the fallen creature. His soaked camouflage robes were now plainly visible. He drew his heavy dagger and sawed through the neck of the ugly elf-like creature. Within seconds the head was separated from the body.
Tonks and Harry landed as Jon dropped the head. It rolled a few feet along the stony bank. Tonks grimaced but wasted no time in untying the rope knot on the sack.
A little boy of about eight years old, dirty and bleeding from numerous scrapes, fought tooth and nail to get free from imprisonment and then against Tonks, who had to block numerous punches before the boy realized that he was rescued.
"We gotcha kiddo, it's ok. We're the good guys!" she declared. Harry made his way over to them. The child began to cry, but this time it was tears of relief and joy. He began to speak in rapid fire French, gesturing with his hands. "Can't understand you," she mimed; pointing to her ear and then shrugged. "We're going to get you out of here. Back home to Mama and papa. Come on," she beckoned. Jon was in the background, tossing the corpse and head into the same dirty sack the boy was captured in.
"Richard," the boy said slowly, pointing to himself.
"Harry, Jon, Tonks," she indicated her team.
"Bonjour, et merci boucoup!"
The three of them crouched down next to the boy, making sure he was ok. Harry was weak with relief. Jon offered Harry his fist, who connected without even breaking eye contact with the lad. Tonks was running basic diagnostic spells on the boy.
"He needs sleep, and a calming draught. His heart rate is sky high. "
"Richard," Jon commanded. "Stand up, and take deep breaths." Jon did the same thing. "You are free. The Diablo is no more." He offered the boy his hand to shake. "I'm Jon Black. We are from the hunter's guild in London. We are called the Crow's Vambrace."
"Crows Vambrace. Oui," Richard acknowledged.
"Let's get him home," Tonks said, smiling from ear to ear. "Jon, don't let the corpse touch you. Just make sure and use the gloves to deal with it."
"This aspect, I was prepared for. But thank you for your consideration, milady," Jon bowed hi head in thanks.
"We did it. Thank god," Harry let out a deep breath.
Jon laughed as he tied the sack to the back of his broom. "No, Harry. You forget already."
"What?" Harry said as Tonks helped the boy sit in front of her on the broomstick.
"You underestimate your own ability. God had no part in this. This is what Immortal Heroes do for fun, remember?" Jon said over his shoulder as he kicked off. Harry took one last look at the fresh, bloodstained bank and the big cauldron of soup bubbling merrily. Minutes away from tragedy.
"Yeah. I guess you're right," Harry agreed, talking to himself. He let out a deep breath as he mounted his own broomstick and set off after his comrades.
Harry checked the magical sundial on his broom compass.
It was only ten minutes past eight.
AN: Thank you for reading. What are your opinions so far?
Until we meet again.
TDLN
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone