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Chapter 62: The Flames Will Purge.
🕑 Added 2025-06-17 08:17:01 +0000 UTCAuthor's note: My father is better, thank god. He really scared me in the morning. And about the chapter... what can I say... things get bloody, and I love it lol. CA is, well, a darker AU, as you might suspect. And believe me, it will get worse as the arcs continue. Damn, I really liked this chapter. Tell me what you think!
Celestial Ascendancy
Chapter 62: The Flames Will Purge.
Underworld, Unknown location.
Elias Black.
The place where Ajuka Beelzebub took us was honestly not what I expected. I had assumed he’d bring us to some kind of lab or something close to it, but no. He got us into a drawing room. Minimalistic, too. Completely different from what I had in mind.
Especially for devils.
“Take a seat. I want to ask a few questions before we begin,” Ajuka said casually, waving his hand. Enough chairs appeared for all of us.
The only ones present were Rias, Iris, Hermione, Fleur, Asia, and me. A bigger group than I initially planned, but I didn’t want to leave Asia alone in the middle of the Underworld. She was already skittish enough, even with me around… and honestly, I shouldn’t have been much of a comfort. I had no real way of dealing with any of the Satans.
Let alone the monster sitting calmly in front of us.
We sat down, and I started to feel weirdly anxious. The girls, except Rias, were confused about why we were even here. Still, they stayed quiet and made themselves comfortable.
“So, you four are wizards,” Ajuka said neutrally, then glanced at Asia. “And an excommunicated nun.”
“Quite the diverse circle of friends you’ve gathered, Rias.” He looked at her with no visible emotion. “Do you know why every supernatural faction leaves them alone? You could cause problems for the Devils.”
Rias opened her mouth, but I beat her to it. “We were the ones who summoned her. She’s not at fault. And from what we’ve managed to gather, she’s not breaking the ancient pact. But… admittedly, we don’t know much about it. The devils we’ve met don’t have a lot of information either.”
“And that is exactly how it was intended,” Ajuka deadpanned. “I’m not blind to the flaws of my kind. We are selfish beings driven by greed. If they knew the truth, they’d be far too interested in such fertile ground for expanding their peerage.”
He looked over the girls, then fixed his gaze on me. “Especially because when a wizard becomes something else, like a devil, they lose their limitations, boosting their strength without much of a bottleneck. It was a unanimous decision on our part to erase the records.”
“Would it be rude to ask for clarification?” Hermione asked, raising her hand a little timidly.
I smiled fondly at her, and the other girls either giggled or turned to Ajuka with curious expressions.
“Not at all. It’s not a secret that really matters anymore. You would’ve learned it soon anyway,” Ajuka sighed, then waved a hand lazily. “Wizards… where do I even begin? As a race, they were created using devils as a mold. And they were created by one of the most feared factions in the world.”
“Feared?” I raised an eyebrow. “By the Hindus? I don’t see why they’d create our kind.”
“‘Feared’ might’ve been the wrong word,” Ajuka corrected with an amused shake of his head. “Perhaps… abhorred is more accurate. I’m talking about the Fae.”
“They exist?” Hermione asked for all of us. And honestly, I was with her. I’d read about them, sure, but nowhere in any myth did they ever seem like the kind of faction others would hate. Tricksters, yes. Dangerous at times, sure. But abhorred?
Ajuka leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.
“They’re not hated because of power... though make no mistake, some are powerful. They’re not even feared for their armies, their artifacts, or any other reason that would make sense in our world. No…” He paused. “The reason they’re so hated is much simpler. They don’t follow the rules.”
I frowned. “You mean, like, they’re unpredictable?”
Ajuka shook his head again. “Not unpredictable. Unbound. The rest of us, devils, angels, dragons, even gods, we are all part of the same structure. The same flow of existence. Bound by cause and effect. Magic. Power. Balance. Even those who claim to be above fate, like the fates weavers themselves, are still part of the grand tapestry.”
He lifted one hand, conjuring an image in the air. A thread of light twisting in on itself like a glowing silk.
“The Fae exist outside of that.”
The thread tore in the middle. A jagged, pulsing gap flickered open in the middle of the projection.
“They don’t follow fate. They don’t follow time. They can’t be prophesied. They can’t be seen through by precognition, by angelic prophecy, or even by magic like mine.”
Hermione blinked. “But wizards have prophecies. That’s a form of fate, isn’t it?”
Ajuka turned toward her. “Yes, because wizards are flawed. They were never meant to be perfect replicas of the Fae’s chaos or the Devils’ structure. They were a hybrid... a middle point if you will. And because of that, you do have fate. It’s not as binding as humans or devils, but it exists. And it manifests in the form of narrow, fragmented prophecy. Self-contained threads, rather than full tapestries.”
“So…” I said slowly. “The Fae are fateless.”
Ajuka nodded once. “Completely. And that’s why the world hates them. You can’t predict a Fae. You can’t manipulate them. You can’t even reliably kill them in a meaningful way. Their presence causes paradoxes, and, if left unchecked, chain reactions that spiral out and ruin centuries of stability.”
He conjured another projection. An old, bearded man with strange eyes and a staff tipped with a crescent loop.
“Which is why Merlin exiled them. Along with himself.”
That made everyone sit up straighter.
“Wait. Merlin?” Iris asked.
Ajuka nodded. “The last known half-Fae, half-Wizard. A true bridge between both races. The only one who could interact with the Fae leaders and the only one who had enough understanding of structured magic to make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Hermione asked with a whisper.
“The kind that lets the rest of the world sleep in peace,” Ajuka said softly. “He convinced the Fae to seal themselves away. In return, the other factions agreed to leave their surviving creations alone. So long as they remained isolated. So long as they didn’t grow too powerful. The moment they did…” His eyes flicked to me. “Certain eyes would begin to turn.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
“Merlin vanished after that,” Ajuka added. “Voluntarily. He knew he had become a danger just by existing. He was the last of his kind. A perfect mix between creator and creation, making something new.”
I swallowed, unsure why that last part hit me so hard.
Beside me, Iris gripped my hand.
“So… what happens if the Fae come back?” she asked confusedly.
Ajuka didn’t answer immediately.
Then, with unsettling calm, he said, “Then all of our predictions, all of our power scales, all of our war maps and precautions… become useless. A single Fae of considerable power can tilt the chessboard. A single action from them can change the world... and not specifically for the better.”
“But enough history lessons,” Ajuka clapped his hands and gave a slight nod. “I believe we’re here for one reason.”
I nodded and opened my mouth, but the words didn’t come. I looked at the girls… and just couldn’t find a way to say it.
“Aren’t you going to take the diadem out, Eli?” Hermione asked softly, her eyes locking with mine. “That’s why we’re here, no? To get the soul fragment out of it?”
She kept going, her tone growing more alarmed as I stayed silent.
Her eyes drifted to Iris, who was watching me with growing concern, then back to me.
And then they widened. She gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.
“No. No. No!” she croaked, staring at Iris. Specifically, at her scar.
Mione looked back at me, silently begging for reassurance.
All I could do was nod defeatedly.
“Mione, what’s gotten into you?” Iris asked with a worried tone.
I took a deep breath.
Did I regret my decision?
No. No, I didn’t. But I knew Iris was going to get hurt either way, whether I told her from the start or not. Was what I did wrong? Probably. But I hadn’t wanted her to panic while I looked for a solution to this mess.
I stood and placed a calming hand on Hermione’s shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. She understood better than anyone that, thankfully, the damn thing was almost certainly fixed now… but the shock of realizing what had been inside Iris all this time, that overrode her logic completely.
As Mione hiccuped and wiped her face, Fleur and Asia began to grasp how serious this was.
“Iris, love,” I said gently, tilting her chin up as she looked between Hermione and me.
“When I found out about this months ago, I made the decision to keep it a secret from both of you,” I began softly, trying to project some kind of assurance. “Do you remember when Pranitha performed a ritual to delay the curse in your scar?”
“What about it, Eli?” Iris asked nervously.
I sighed. The knot in my chest only tightened.
I knew my girlfriend. Hell, I knew her better than she knew herself. And I knew that, no matter my intentions, she was going to take this badly.
“Your scar is a Horcrux, love,” I said quietly. “I’ve spent all this time trying to find a way to remove it without killing you, which, obviously, I would never allow. I kept it a secret so that no one, absolutely no one but Pranitha and I knew… because I didn’t want anyone getting the idea that the only way to make Voldemort mortal again was to kill you.”
SMAK
My head snapped sideways from the force of the slap, but I kept my eyes on her.
Iris was trembling, her eyes wide and glassy, fists clenched at her sides like she didn’t know whether to punch me again or collapse. Her breath hitched as she stared at me like I’d just torn something sacred apart.
And maybe I had. Her trust.
“You…” Her voice cracked. “You knew. All this time, and you knew?!”
I nodded once, silent.
She let out a choked sound, somewhere between a sob and a scream, and I stepped forward instinctively.
Her hands pushed at my chest. Weak at first. Then harder.
“Don’t,” she hissed. “Don’t touch me!”
I wrapped my arms around her anyway. Not tightly. Just enough to let her know I wasn’t going anywhere.
She started hitting my shoulders. Over and over. Not with power—but desperation.
“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you lie?!” Her voice broke again, raw and ragged. “You should’ve told me, Eli! I deserved to know! You KNOW what that bastard did to me!”
“I know,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers even as she trembled in my grip. “I know. I just… I didn’t want to see that look on your face.”
Hermione came in next, hugging her from the side. Then Fleur. Then Asia, while shy, hugged the crying Iris. Even Rias hovered nearby, her gaze sad and hand resting gently on Iris’s back.
Iris was surrounded. Supported. But still breaking.
The weight of it all. The fear, betrayal, grief, love, poured through her in waves. I could feel her shaking. Could feel the tears finally fall as she clenched her fists against my chest and sobbed into my shirt.
I held her tighter.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I thought I was protecting you. But I know that doesn’t make it right.”
“I believe we should proceed,” Ajuka said flatly, not even glancing at us.
Just like that, the room snapped back into reality.
He waved a hand lazily, and a large, complex ritual circle ignited in the center of the room.
“I have time, yes,” Ajuka continued. “But not infinite patience. Let’s not waste either.”
-Scene break-
Elias PoV.
It had been around six hours since Ajuka’s ritual ended, and I could say without a shadow of a doubt that it had been the most soul-wrenching moment of my life. Nothing even came close.
The screams Iris let out… they broke me. There were moments, more than a few, when I almost stepped in. The only reason I didn’t was Hermione’s voice in my ear, her arguments shaky but logical.
She doubted herself, but I understood what she meant, that no matter what, Iris would never want to keep living with a piece of Voldemort embedded in her scar. Not while knowing that it existed.
Ajuka had explained that soul magic was, perhaps, one of the most difficult and finicky branches of magic worldwide. He was extremely interested in Wizarding soul magic once Hermione brought up some of what Pranitha had taught her.
He’d admitted that even with all his power and control, separating a fragment of soul that had spent more than a decade inside another person was no simple task.
I’d been channeling healing energy into Iris’s body from a distance for hours now. I hadn’t stopped for even a second.
“You’re wasting magic, you know?” Ajuka drawled from his seat, barely looking up from a floating tablet. His voice was almost bored. “Soul injuries aren’t something mortal beings like us can mend like scraped knees. Your magic, while impressive, is doing absolutely nothing.”
“Maybe that’ll change if I keep trying,” I sighed, my eyes fixed on Iris’s still form. “I just… I hate feeling useless. And looking at that bastard chained up over there only makes me want to deal with him myself… but this isn’t my battle.”
I turned toward the far end of the room, glaring in disgust at the homunculus body twitching helplessly under suppression seals. He strained against the chains.
The girls were keeping a watchful eye on him.
“You did good sealing his mouth shut,” I muttered.
Ajuka snorted. “Even I, with all my power, am less egocentric than that man. Flee from death… how amusing.”
A sharp gasp cut through the air.
Iris jolted awake, and in an instant, we were all moving. We rushed to her side, dropping to our knees as she looked around, dazed.
And then, without a word, we pulled her into a tight hug.
Iris didn’t say anything.
She didn’t sob. She didn’t scream. She just… sat there, blinking slowly as we wrapped ourselves around her.
Confusion, anger, peace...
It was all there; I could feel it rolling off her in waves, but her expression didn’t move.
Her eyes eventually drifted upward, and then locked onto him.
The twitching body in the corner.
The homunculus that contained what remained of Voldemort’s fragmented soul. The thing that had lived inside her for years. The soul of the maker of all of her problems.
And something in her changed.
She tensed.
Slowly, she stood. We tried to help her, but she brushed us off with a look. Not angry. Not dismissive. Just… focused.
She took one step.
Her legs nearly gave out, but she forced herself forward.
She reached for her wand. Her grip was tight. Her hand was trembling with how hard she was clenching it.
Iris didn’t speak.
“Crucio.”
The word came out like a hiss. Full of feelings.
The effect was anything but.
The body convulsed violently, magic suppression seals flaring from the strain. But they held. Just enough to keep him contained.
She kept going. Five seconds. Ten. Twenty. A full minute.
The rest of us stood there, watching in a stunned, but understanding silence.
Asia looked away first. Hermione second.
Fleur’s hand reached for mine.
Even Ajuka, for once, didn’t speak.
And still, Iris said nothing else.
When she finally lowered her wand, her hands didn’t shake.
They glowed.
Fire bloomed across her palms, and with a flick, she hurled it toward the still-twitching remains of the homunculus.
The scream that followed wasn’t from Voldemort.
It was from the flames themselves.
They roared to life as if they understood exactly what they were burning. What they were cleansing.
The seals shattered. The body turned to ash in seconds.
And then it was over.
Iris dropped to her knees, shoulders quaking, tears streaming silently down her cheeks as the room filled with smoke and the scent of finality.
We rushed to her. I pulled her into my arms, and this time, she didn’t fight it.
Hermione knelt beside us, wrapping her in a careful embrace. Fleur and Asia held her hands.
Rias hugger her back, a sad smile on her face.
Iris didn’t speak. Her body trembled against mine, and I knew… I knew that this wasn’t over.
The Horcrux was gone.
But the betrayal?
The weight?
The wound I’d left in her by keeping this secret?
It was still bleeding.
And no amount of fire would burn that away.
But I would fix it.
Sirius Black
Grimmauld Place.
“This is a mess,” I groaned, pacing around the room. Everyone here was just as anxious, and it didn’t help one damn bit.
The worst part? My partner-in-crime and niece were busy working, and Remus had grown more serious with every passing year. Sure, we still messed around sometimes, but it wasn’t the same anymore.
In retrospect… he’d simply matured. I hadn’t. It's not like I wanted to, anyway. But hell, after spending nearly two decades in that cursed place I tried not to think about, all I wanted was to live a little.
“What do you think, Moony?” I asked, glancing at Remus as he stared at his phone with a tight, conflicted look. “You think the wanker will attack tonight?”
“Probably,” Remus sighed, pocketing the phone. “I doubt he’ll stay in hiding now that everyone’s got proof he’s back.”
“Still sending messages to the pups?”
“They’re not receiving them anymore,” he said, shaking his head, worry etched into every word. “What if something happened to them, Padfoot? You know where they were headed tonight.”
“Hell,” I muttered flatly. Still had trouble believing those places actually existed. “Merlin, they’ve got some interesting friends,” I added with a chuckle, raising my hands in mock surrender when Remus shot me a glare.
“Why the long face? Missing Nimy already?” I nudged his shoulder with a grin.
The way the two of them danced around each other, each convinced the other wasn’t interested, was bloody hilarious. Funnier still that they thought I hadn’t noticed the looks they kept sneaking when they thought no one was watching.
Sure, the age gap was big... but they were both adults. I wasn’t about to coddle them. I cared about both and if they made each other happy? That was good enough for me. Though it wasn’t set in stone. Things could always change.
Even more in a war... I knew that personally.
Remus rolled his eyes and looked toward the table where the rest were gathered.
The room was full, and I took an immeasurable amount of joy, filling it with the kind of “undesirables” dear Mum used to rant about. Bless Elias for tearing her portrait clean off the wall... along with a good chunk of the wall itself.
The elf had been happy to keep her company down in the cellar, and I was thrilled knowing Kreacher was the only company she’d ever get.
Aside from the Aurors who weren’t present, we had the adult Weasleys, Bill, Doge, Diggle, Hestia, Emmeline, and Podmore. The only ones I trusted to watch my back.
Not counting the Hogwarts professors, obviously. They were damn good. I felt lucky to have them on our side. Better than Fletcher, that’s for sure.
Before anyone could say anything else, a glowing Patronus burst into the room, and we were all on our feet in an instant.
“Attack on Azkaban!” Tonks’s panicked voice echoed from the spectral form. “The wards are down! I repeat, the wards are down! Voldemort came in force! We need backup! Bones is gathering more Aurors now!”
The room exploded into motion. Everyone shared a single look and, without hesitation, Apparated away.
“Remus, my boy,” Dumbledore said, raising a hand just as we were about to leave. “Have you heard anything from Elias?”
Remus shook his head silently. Dumbledore sighed, squared his shoulders, and said quietly, “So be it. It seems we won’t have their help tonight.”
And just like that, he was gone.
I turned to Remus, the last one left. He stared at the phone one last time, fingers twitching, then let out a breath and shook his head.
That was all I needed. One silent, resigned nod and with a faint pop, we vanished.
-Scene change-
The dreaded place felt colder than it had during my stay, and my heartbeat spiked just from being this close. It was, much as I hated to admit it, a part of me.
One that had left me scarred.
I took a deep breath and scanned my surroundings, the nerves settling a bit as muscle memory and experience took over.
“Are you ready, Padfoot?” Remus asked at my side, sniffing the air.
“Born ready,” I smirked.
“Fuck,” he muttered, pupils dilating. “It stinks of blood and shit. I can smell wet dogs. Be careful with werewolves.”
“Vampires, too,” I added, nodding toward the scent coming from deeper in the wreckage. My scowl deepened. I hated them.
“What do we do, Headmaster?” Bill asked seriously, his eyes fixed on the carnage ahead.
The walls of Azkaban were shattered. Rubble fell around us as prisoners fled or fought tooth and nail against the Aurors. The fact that all of them were armed meant Voldemort had been planning this for a while.
Even those who weren’t loyal to him had joined the chaos, attacking almost ferally now that freedom was in sight.
I couldn’t blame them… I probably would’ve done the same.
“Voldemort is here,” Dumbledore said calmly, though his body was taut with tension. “Keep your distance from our duel. None of you are equipped to intervene. Help the remaining Aurors and regroup. Wait for Amelia’s backup.”
“First, we deal with the Dementors. With me,” he said gravely, and those capable of casting a Patronus moved to follow. I stayed behind, ready to shield them if things went south.
The screams of the surviving Aurors were chilling, but I spotted a bloodied Tonks leading a squad as they retreated toward us. Dementors and Death Eaters chased them together, hunting in sync.
“Now!” Dumbledore shouted.
A wave of Patronuses erupted at once. Shining beasts of hope driving back the darkness. Slowly but surely, the Dementors began to retreat. I sighed in relief as Tonks finally reached us, collapsing to the ground and gasping for breath.
Her arm was bent wrong. But she was alive.
“You good, Nimy?” I asked softly.
“Peachy,” she scowled, glaring at her arm like it had betrayed her. “My aunt is insane, and I am going to enjoy breaking her.”
“Bella’s loose?” I swore, scowling. “Fuck.”
“Form a perimeter,” Dumbledore ordered quietly, staring up at the sky. “I’ll deal with Voldemort. And… be careful. I hope to see all of you in good health after the battle.”
With that, he vanished with a faint pop.
We turned to face the attackers.
They weren’t many, maybe the same number as us, but this wasn’t going to be easy. Most of the Aurors looked green and terrified. I had no idea how much help they’d really be.
“Hestia, Remus,” I called, “stay back and keep an eye on the Dementors. Bill, protect them while you can. The rest of you... get ready.”
Everyone nodded and moved into position.
An explosion of light flared in the distance, right where Dumbledore had vanished, and it served as the bell for our battle. Both sides surged forward in sync, but we were better coordinated.
“Stupefy!” Tonks shouted, aiming her wand at a grimy bastard sprinting ahead of the rest. The spell hit square in the chest, but he didn’t drop. He snarled, fangs glinting under the moonlight.
His speed spiked, and in seconds, he was tearing into the first line of defense. He was fast... damn fast, but I’d hunted quicker vampires back when I was a Hit-Wizard.
Spells flew at him from all directions. Body-Binds barely missed him by inches while panicked Aurors launched Bombardas at close range, hoping to slow him down.
“Keep formation!” I shouted, watching the front collapse. The Death Eaters were pressing in from behind, and the line was breaking. Caught between the monster and the insane.
“Tenebra Vincula!” I roared, pointing my wand. Inky chains lashed out, wrapping around the vampire’s leg. He twisted violently, dragging the other out of the way just in time.
He grimaced, then lunged for the nearest Auror, sinking his fangs into the man’s throat and draining him in seconds. I felt the surge of dark power ripple off him.
I snapped.
“I absolutely hate your kind,” I muttered coldly, even as I forced myself to stay calm.
With a flick of my wand, I transfigured a pile of rubble into a volley of sharpened wooden and metal spikes, then yanked them toward the vampire with a vicious Accio.
With a wet squelch, he was impaled to the ground. His limbs twitched, pinned like a bug.
“Infernalis,” I growled.
The reddish-black fire spell left my wand like glob of smoke, but when it struck, the twitching corpse ignited into a howling inferno. A wall of flame roared upward, severing the line of sight between both forces.
“Retreat!” Remus shouted, shielding what he could as we regrouped.
We pulled back. Breathing room at last. The damn vampire had taken down a chunk of the Aurors, but many prisoners were bound or stunned in the chaos.
Not a clean win, but a win nonetheless.
Until someone shoved me from behind.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Black?!” an Auror barked, getting in my face. “Do you want me to arrest you?!”
“Tell that to your fucking squad!” I snapped, feeling my fury boiling over. “Do you see them pulling punches?! Are you going to keep using kiddie gloves while they’re butchering YOUR FUCKING PEOPLE?!”
“Enough,” came a tired voice from behind us. “Enough. Both of you.”
“But Professor! You can’t seriously agree with him!” the Auror sputtered with wide eyes, looking at Flitwick like he’d lost his mind.
“Oh, but I do, Patterson,” Flitwick said softly.
But his gaze was hard as steel. “If you plan to survive the night, you’d better be ready to take a life. This will only get worse before it ends.”
Screams echoed across the battlefield. Spells flashed in every direction, reds, greens, silvers, lighting up the smoking wreck of Azkaban like a thunderstorm made of death.
The line between order and compassion had shattered.
McGonagall shed her restraint. Her wand moved like the weapon it truly was, firing piercing hexes that cut through shielding charms like butter. One Death Eater dropped instantly, and a ragged hole seared through his gut.
Flitwick stood on fallen rubble, barking incantations in an older tongue. His dueling spells were sharp, refined... and merciless.
A Death Eater’s wand hand exploded in a mist of bone and blood. The man didn’t get a chance to scream before Flitwick dropped him with a silent curse that snapped his spine mid-air.
To our right, two werewolves charged.
Remus was already on them, wand drawn. He didn’t transform, but his spells were vicious, aimed to maim and stop movement. The first werewolf tackled him to the ground, snarling and slashing, until I sprinted in, slamming into it with a tackle.
“Get the fuck off him!” I roared, casting a blasting hex that sent the thing skidding into a wall.
Remus scrambled to his feet, his robe torn, blood slicking his jaw, but his eyes were steady. We moved in sync, driving both beasts back toward the courtyard, spell by bloody spell. When the second one fell with its throat torn open by a lucky slash of silver-infused magic, I finally let myself breathe.
Only for it to catch in my throat.
“DIGGLE!” someone screamed.
I turned too late.
Two vampires had flanked him. Only blurs of pale speed in the smoke. One grabbed his left arm and leg, the other his right. They pulled.
I heard the snap of bone. Diggle shrieked his throat raw.
“NO!” I moved forward, wand raised... but it was too late.
The first vampire leaned in and, with a graceful, practiced motion, sliced his head clean off.
Blood sprayed the ash-stained ground. His body slumped in pieces, twitching.
The second vampire hissed at me.
“Wrong fucking move,” I whispered.
Tonks was already moving beside me. Her arm was bandaged crudely, but her wand was firm. A wild, half-feral look was in her eyes that reminded me so much of her mother when pissed.
“Together?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“Together.”
We unleashed everything. Bombardas, cutting curses, fire, even a dark Reducto that tore the stone floor open under their feet.
When the smoke cleared, both vampires were dead—one burned to the bone, the other crushed under a collapsed wall, still twitching with cursed fire.
The silence didn’t last.
“DEATH EATERS, REGROUP!” someone shouted and I scowled, it sounded like Malfoy.
The enemy was thinning, but so were we.
Only Death Eaters remained now, twenty or so.
Two werewolves still snarling in the far east wing. And above it all, in the distant sky… the Dementors, circling like vultures, waiting for the moment to strike again.
I glanced around at what was left of our group.
McGonagall’s robes were torn, one side soaked in blood, but she stood tall.
Flitwick leaned on one knee, breathing hard but alive.
Tonks was bleeding through her wrap. Remus held his side with one hand, wand with the other.
And me?
I was ready to kill every last one of them. Even if it was the last thing I did.
-Scene Change-
We all felt it the moment they clashed.
One second, the sky was just ash and smoke. The next, it ignited with a blaze of power that tore the clouds open like paper. Spells moved faster than anything I had ever seen, colliding mid-air and detonating with enough force to rock the ground under my feet.
I looked up. Away from the corpses, away from the destruction, and saw Dumbledore.
And him.
Voldemort.
He looked… good. As much as I hated to admit it. He was graceful, like nothing Dumbledore threw at him meant anything.
The black-robed figure danced through the sky with impossible speed, throwing and tearing spells out of the air and hurling them back with mockery, all wandlessly.
He laughed as he fought, even as Dumbledore landed hit after hit that should’ve ended any normal duel.
The hole through his stomach knits in a couple of seconds. He laughed and continued with the onslaught.
Spells bloomed like fireworks around them. Transfigured birds of fire, shards of ice spinning like saws, and even some spells I didn't recognize but changed the gravity as some of Voldemort’s followers were squashed to a paste. Dumbledore shouted something in Latin and swept his wand in a spiral.
A blue firestorm burst out like a hurricane… Protego Diabolica, I recognized it. A spell I never even thought of seeing it coming out of Dumbledore’s wand.
The Death Eaters flinched and tried to move. One of them was reduced to cinders, but Voldemort moved too fast. A glowing magic circle snapped into existence beneath his feet. The flame died. It didn’t flicker or weaken… it just stopped.
“What the hell was that?” I muttered in shock.
And still, Dumbledore pushed.
He threw chains of transfigured stone, transmuted the air into razor-thin wires, and even summoned a dozen blazing phoenixes that exploded into flames.
It wasn’t enough.
Every spell was dodged, shattered, or worse… mocked. The bastard danced around him like he was playing around.
“You were supposed to be the Light’s last hope?” Voldemort shouted, “You feel more like a small appetizer.”
A blast hit Dumbledore full in the chest. He crashed through a tower with a sickening crack, stone, and dust raining down in sheets.
He got up.
Bleeding, limping… but still fighting.
But we all saw it.
He was losing.
“Hold the line!” a new voice shouted, and the sound of apparition filled the prison.
Amelia Bones arrived, wand blazing. A whole new wave of Aurors followed, along with some civilian fighters. Some of them looked like they hadn’t picked up a wand in years, but they fought like hell anyway.
Bill Weasley pushed forward, wand glowing gold. He traced intricate symbols in the air that hovered and flashed before slamming into the ground.
Two Death Eaters screamed as the stone beneath them wrapped upward, turning into statues that sealed them inside before they burrowed under the ground.
Off to the side, Emmeline Vance roasted a werewolf alive, the cursed fire screaming and shrieking as the beast writhed under the spell before becoming ash.
But she didn’t see the Dementor gliding up behind her.
“Vance!!!”
Too late.
Its mouth opened wide.
A flash of light. A scream that didn’t come out. She collapsed, blank-eyed, her soul gone. Her body twitched once. Then, never again.
“DAMN YOU!” Flitwick roared.
He moved like nothing I’d ever seen. His small frame blitzed across the battlefield until he reached Emmeline's dead body, nothing more than a blur to my eyes, significantly faster than the previous vampires.
McGonagall had transfigured a sword for him earlier. A short blade, a Scimitar, if I wasn't wrong.
He dual-wielded it and his wand, moving through Death Eaters like a storm in miniature. Spells ricocheted off his defenses. One poor bastard tried to curse him before Flitwick stabbed him and yanked his blade back, taking a couple of organs out for good measure.
… I hoped Elias didn't learn everything from him while they trained. I looked at the carnage around me, many, many Aurors and civilians dead, and I scowled. Perhaps… Perhaps I wanted him to punish them once he returned.
Before I could launch myself to battle once more, a familiar shriek made my chest tighten. Molly.
She'd taken a curse meant for Arthur. Her body convulsed, blood pouring from her ears, her eyes, her mouth. She fell to her knees, retching bubbling blood.
“Bill!” I shouted as I covered for him, bifurcating a death eater who was looking for an easy hit.
He was already at her side, muttering furiously. His wand glowed with a sickly green light. The magic flared and, finally, stabilized.
She lived.
Barely.
But she was out.
And that’s when I saw Arthur snap.
He stood slowly, his hands trembling, his eyes locked on the Death Eater who’d cursed his wife.
Then he charged.
I’d never seen Arthur Weasley like that.
He didn't use magic. He beat the man down. Blunt force. Punches. He continued even after the Death Eater's skull cracked and opened. He didn't stop until he was satisfied. The sound of blood dripping from his knuckles was haunting.
I heard the cackle before I saw her.
Bellatrix.
Her voice hadn’t changed. Still sharp and filled with madness.
Remus didn’t recognize it at first, not until she stepped from the smoke. She had her wand in one hand, and her eyes were filled with darkness.
“There you are, little wolf,” she purred, tilting her head.
Remus's eyes widened but turned too late.
“NO!”
I lunged and shoved him aside just as the curse left her wand. It caught the floor between us both.
Agony exploded through my chest and ribs. Something cracked. No, multiple things cracked. I hit the stone ground and tasted blood.
Remus landed beside me, coughing. I reached for him with a trembling hand, just to make sure he was still breathing. He was.
Bellatrix laughed, skipping backward, looking for her next victim.
I couldn’t get up.
I couldn’t even raise my wand.
And that’s when I heard it.
BOOM.
The sky lit up in white fire.
I turned my head slowly, even through the pain, and saw Dumbledore sprawled on the ruined ground, his robes torn, bleeding from his orifices.
Above him floated Voldemort.
He raised both arms, and five magic circles spiraled into the air, all perfectly symmetrical, glowing blue, green, and black. Lighting and fire came to life. They twisted, spun, and merged into a single massive spear of destructive force that made the air hum.
And I felt it.
I felt it in my bones, in my fucking soul.
That thing would kill us all.
“Move,” I whispered. “Please, someone move.”
But Dumbledore was still on the ground. Unmoving but breathing.
A figure sprinted toward him from the debris. I didn’t recognize him at first. But I felt the shift in the air the moment he reached the old man.
A magic circle bloomed under them, bright gold, humming with sheer power. A bit more potent than even Dumbledore’s.
Then…
BOOM.
The spear hit.
But it didn’t break them.
A golden dome had formed in the blink of an eye, and it held.
The shockwave flattened half the battlefield. Dust and flame tore through the ruins. I covered my face with one arm and screamed as heat licked my skin… but the dome held.
And when the light faded, the man I recognized as the latest Order of Merlin recipient disappeared along with Dumbledore.
Pop.
They appeared beside us. Alaric was sweating, his complexion pale and trembling all over.
Dumbledore was unconscious, pale. The man dropped him gently and turned toward the chaos, magic still burning in his hands.
I looked up at him. Couldn’t speak... I could barely breathe.
But I forced the words out.
“...Ash…”
Blood bubbled up my throat.
“Help.”
The wind shifted. There was a cry, and then two figures descended from the sky like comets.
Fawkes and Ash.
The phoenixes didn’t hesitate. They circled around us and sang.
The heat of their presence burned away the smoke.
I felt a pulling sensation in my navel and closed my eyes.
The next thing I knew… it was white.
Bright white.
I blinked once. My body wouldn’t move.
Someone was shouting. Someone was casting something.
My vision swam.
And then I heard it. Madam Pomfrey barking orders.
“…get them stable! Merlin’s sake, We're still losing them!”
Remus groaned beside me.
Dumbledore didn’t move.
And me?
I looked toward the high, vaulted ceiling of the infirmary. Let the war outside continue.
Because I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.
Darkness took me.
And for the first time all night…
I let it.
Comments
InfinityReads99
I thought I had replied to this one, sorry. Eh… coincidences happen, and while Elias received the first messages, he could not see them because it was during rias rating game. The problem was, that the signal went bad once ajuka took them away, think like inside his castle, only people allowed by him can get signal, to avoid any problems. The problem was that Elias and co were too worried/exited about Iris ritual and forgot about it. So… they didn’t know.
InfinityReads99
She has all the right of being pissed in my opinion. Elias did what he believed to be best, but that doesn’t mean it is. Even if it’s about to be fixed, the fact that she has lived with a piece of Voldemort soul inside her scar is shocking and she is angry, obviously. It won’t be that big of a deal, and I plan to move forward quick since the war is happening, but I do believe she has the right to feel like that.
InfinityReads99
Wizards have fate, albeit… not that “firm” or exact. The problem is the fae, they are so outside of the situation that a single fae acting can change a lot.
LothWolf
Thanks for the chapter 😁❤️👍
LothWolf
I honestly I would think that God would not mind the Wizards being somewhat hard to prophesy or use clairvoyance on since they are a type of human and free will is one of the big things that God wanted humanity to have
LothWolf
They should have waited for Elias and Also I guess that Elias might also be a hybrid like Merlin and if he is a hybrid then the other Supernatural Factions and the Fae are probably going to be really interested in him especially if they find out that he’s the new Messiah I imagine that when Heaven finds out they will probably be very protective of him
Iori Daemona Angel
So much drama for nothing with Iris.
Wilfrid Calixte killian
👌🏾
WanderingEntity
👌👍
