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Power Plays Chapter 47
🕑 Added 2024-12-04 16:59:00 +0000 UTCHarry cast the strongest shield charm he knew in front of him and kept it steady. He wasn’t sure if it was a spell or some type of physical attack that had killed Pierrick, but given the lack of a noticeable spell in the darkness, he gambled that it was something physical that had caused this.
The pounding footsteps on the staircase behind him signalled Gaëlle, Alain, and Gabrielle’s arrivals. Mathis stepped alongside Harry, took one look at Pierrick’s body, and finally let loose the contents of his stomach right on his shoes. The acidic scent mingled with the metallic smell of fresh blood in the air.
“Oh Merlin,” Gaëlle gasped. She staggered back on the staircase, nearly falling over. “Pierrick… I… I’ll go back and keep our backs safe.”
“Gabrielle, Mathis, stay with her,” he ordered her.
“I should stay here,” Gabrielle said, brandishing her wand in front of her. “Who knows what took out Pierrick. You need all the wands you can get.”
“I can’t have us getting flanked by any Death Eaters or any of these other… things down here,” Harry insisted. “And I need Alain with me in case of any traps.”
Gabrielle clearly wasn’t pleased with his choice, but she wasn’t willing to question him any further. She gave a tight nod and headed back upstairs with Gaëlle.
The moment they were gone, Alain let out a long sigh. “We can’t leave his body here.”
“We might have to,” Harry said regretfully. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had to choose between honouring the dead and completing the mission assigned to him. Ultimately, he needed to see things through to the end, no matter how difficult it might be.
“At least let me put him under a stasis charm,” Alain said, already drawing his wand.
“In a minute,” Harry said, his eyes scouring the darkness. “Whatever killed Pierrick is still out there.”
The sobering reality of the situation brought Alain up short. He tensed, his knees bent, with the same degree of caution that Harry held. Through the faint, translucent, blue glow of his shield, Harry saw nothing but shadows and the bones that made up the walls of the catacombs.
“Send out a light,” Harry ordered Alain.
With swift efficiency, Alain conjured a simple glass jar on the floor in front of him and filled it with an easily-controlled burst of bluebell flames. The blue-coloured jet of cold fire filled the lantern with a swirling glow of light. Then, Alain sealed the jar tightly with a conjured lid and levitated it down the corridor ahead of them.
Somehow, the skulls and bones that made up the walls of this place seemed even more creepy underneath the blue light. As the jar of flames slowly floated along, Harry readied himself for an unexpected attack.
Then, out of the darkness, a monstrosity appeared.
“What in Merlin’s sweet name…” Alain gasped.
It took all of Harry’s years of experience to not shiver at the sight of the mutilated, bloody face of a man stitched to the body of an Acromantula, just above the creature’s mouth. It must have been a decently young Acromantula because its body was barely more than a metre in length. The eight long, spindly legs clacked as they tapped on the bones on either side of the corridor. But as unsettling as encountering an Acromantula was, Harry couldn’t get past the man’s face.
The face looked like it’d been carved off of the head of a man not long ago. Fresh ruby blood dripped out of every empty orifice, staining the black hair of the Acromantula’s body. A Death Eater mask had been nailed into the face’s left cheek, almost in a mockery of who this man must’ve once been.
But as terrifying as it was, Harry couldn’t help but frown in confusion at the monstrous creation. How could a creature like this have thrown a blade that slashed Pierrick’s throat?
His question was answered a moment later when another creature came creeping out of the darkness, crawling along the low ceiling above the Acromantula. It must have been the body of the dead Death Eater, only his legs had been hacked off and replaced with the long legs of another Acromantula. His arms were twisted and contorted close to his chest, carrying thin, pointed daggers. A satchel was strapped to its chest, showing off more daggers there. The man’s head had all of the flesh peeled away from it, leaving nothing more than a hollow cavity where the top half of his skull and the entirety of his brain had been.
Suddenly, the face on the Acromantula twitched. Its mouth stretched open to an unnatural level, revealing a black maw behind it. The woman’s voice they’d been hearing screeched.
“Quick,” Harry snapped at Alain. “Tell me if there’s anything in the corridor that’ll hurt me.”
“Besides those things?” Alain tittered nervously.
This was no time for him to be losing his composure.
“Alain!” Harry said louder. “Focus! I need you to do this.”
“Right, right,” Alain murmured to himself, still hesitating before he finally moved his wand. The second he did, the two monstrosities started running forward. Alain gasped, and his wand motions were broken.
This wasn’t going well, Harry grimaced.
“Alain, take a breath and try again,” Harry said as he dropped his shield. The moment he did, the creature skittering along the ceiling hurled a dagger with incredible speed towards him. Harry lunged to the side, letting the dagger fly past harmlessly as he readied himself.
Stabbing his wand into the ground, Harry used a simple Transfiguration spell to raise the earth in front of him. The floor trembled and cracked as a hill began to rise in front of him. The walls of the corridor groaned in protest as the earth beneath them shifted, threatening to collapse at a moment’s notice. If it wasn’t for the fact that Emile was somewhere beyond this corridor, Harry would’ve been happy to let the ceiling cave in. But as it stood, Harry had to stop his physical barrier a few moments before it reached the ceiling. There was only a small gap overhead for anything to slip through. It would’ve been a tight fit for Harry, which all but guaranteed the fact that the dead Death Eater’s body would be able to try to force its way through.
Alain’s breathing wasn’t any steadier than before, but the man tried again regardless. He used his familiar spells to scout ahead for any dangers. He was still deep in focus when the raised earth in front of them trembled. The Acromantula was trying to dig its way through.
“Alain, I need you to hu—”
Harry stopped in the middle of his word when he saw the glint of a dagger overhead in the narrow gap between the raised earth and the ceiling. His physical shield charm came up just in time to make the dagger bounce right off.
“Incendio!” Harry replied quickly, sending a thick gout of flames through the gap.
An unnatural scream came in reply as the two creatures on the other side were engulfed by Harry’s vicious flames. There was a loud clatter as something collapsed to the floor, and then the sounds of the creatures fleeing.
Harry cancelled the flames and turned back to Alain. “Anything?”
“No, I…” he bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“It’s okay,” Harry said, holding back a sigh. He knew that this wasn’t easy for anyone. It was only the unusual circumstances of his life that had led to him confronting such horrors well before he ever should have. “So, no traps, alarms, or anything else?”
“It doesn’t seem like it,” Alain replied nervously. “Maybe Emile wanted to let his… things roam free without causing him any disruptions.”
That was a fair analysis, Harry thought.
“Emile can’t be far now,” Harry said aloud, more to himself than to Alain. From the description Cyrus had given Harry, they were nearly at the man’s base of operations. Just a few more corridors to go. “Is there any chance you can try to scout a bit further ahead from here? See if there’s anything I need to worry about between here and Emile?”
“I can try,” Alain grimaced.
“Do it,” Harry ordered him. “I’ll take care of Pierrick’s body.”
There was little that any of them could do down here to take care of it. Harry didn’t have a portkey or anything else on hand to take the body away from here, nor would he risk such a manoeuvre given the way that Emile had trapped the catacombs. Instead, he conjured a simple-looking casket and levitated Pierrick’s body inside. He used an old Egyptian Preservation Spell he’d learnt from Bill years ago to ensure that Pierrick’s body wouldn’t begin to decay and couldn’t be disturbed by anyone with malevolent intentions.
As he sealed the lid atop the casket, Harry started for the staircase. “I’ll be right back,” he told Alain, but the man was too deep in focus on his spell to hear him.
Harry climbed halfway up the staircase, keeping a careful ear for any signs of those monstrosities returning down below.
“Gaëlle, Mathis, Gabrielle, we’re going to be moving forward soon,” he called out.
“Are you two alright?” Gabrielle asked quickly as she appeared at the top of the stairs. “We heard fighting.”
“We’re fine,” Harry answered. “Alain is scouting ahead as best he can for any traps. But we did finally encounter the enemy.”
“Death Eaters?” Gaëlle asked grimly.
“Worse,” Harry told her seriously. “I think Emile’s been experimenting on people.”
Harry had heard as much from Sebastian himself. When Emile had been apprenticed to Nicholas Flamel, he’d illegally experimented on human subjects, leading to him being imprisoned. It seemed as though he’d returned to his old habits.
“All I need from you three is to stay calm and composed,” Harry told them. “I know that none of this is easy, especially losing a comrade in the field, but stopping Emile is our top priority by far. We need to keep pushing forward. I’ll take the lead, and the rest of you can cover me.”
“I’ll stand with you,” Gabrielle suggested eagerly.
He didn’t want her to. At times, his dynamic with her reminded him too much of how he’d been with Susan.
“Alright,” he caved. “But you need to trust me when I give out orders.”
“I will,” Gabrielle promised.
The five of them descended back down to Alain, who was still carefully weaving his magic. Harry slowly and carefully reverted his transfiguration on the ground ahead, ensuring that he didn’t do any more structural damage than he already had. No one commented on the casket sitting next to the wall.
After several more minutes, Alain finally took a shuddering breath. “I’ve scouted ahead as far as I can, and I haven’t seen any traps or alarms at all.”
“Good,” Harry nodded. “Let’s—”
Suddenly, the woman’s scream that they’d been hearing returned, echoing down the corridor towards them.
“Don’t trust it,” Harry warned everyone. “It’s from the Acromantula-like thing.”
“Acromantula-like?” Mathis asked, still looking sick.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Alain shuddered.
“As long as we’re careful, we’ll get through this,” Harry assured everyone. “I just need you all to stick close and follow my orders.”
“We’re with you, Harry,” Gaëlle nodded confidently. She seemed to have recovered her confidence magnificently. The others nodded along, and they were swiftly off in search of Emile.
Alain maintained his bluebell flames as they travelled, illuminating much further down the corridor while Mathis maintained a closer light on the tip of his wand for them. The passageways seemed to grow narrower as they reached older sections of the catacombs. The architecture was rougher but still sound.
Harry knew that they only had a handful of turns left before they’d find Emile’s base, and what worried him was that they hadn’t seen the monstrosities in some time. Every so often, they’d hear something scampering in the distance or the dreadful, feminine wails coming from the Acromantula, but nothing dangerous came close to them. Harry wondered if Emile was hearing the same thing, grinning as his creations stalked their prey.
Finally, a distant, yellowish glow signalled their arrival to an inhabited area. Alain pulled the bluebell flames closer to them so as to not give away their presence so soon.
“Quiet,” Harry told the group. “I’ll creep forward and scout things out. The rest of you need to stay here and keep my back safe.”
“Got it,” Gabrielle murmured softly.
Trusting that they’d do as he asked, Harry crouched low and moved forward as stealthily as he could. He didn’t want to risk a single sound alerting Emile to his presence, so he took his time moving forward.
As he drew closer to the archway ahead, he began to faintly hear the sounds of clinging and potions bubbling away. The sweet scent of fresh cherries wafted out into the corridor, along with an underlying note of petrichor and death.
A long set of stairs led down into a massive cylindrical room that reminded Harry of a very tall drum. A small, blood-filled pit sat in the centre of the room. It was what was bubbling and letting off those scents he’d picked up. Countless tables littered the room, covered with various strange objects and potion-making equipment. Harry recognised a few things as being alchemical tools that Professor Dumbledore had kept in his office back at Hogwarts.
And in the middle of everything, Emile stood at the edge of the pit, staring down into it with open glee on his face. The bald man held a striking amount of resemblance to Sebastian. He had the same face, albeit with a long, white moustache obscuring his top lip. Emile didn’t so much as look up to acknowledge Harry as he spoke.
“You’re just in time to witness something glorious,” Emile said with obvious excitement. “The time has come once again to welcome the Dark Lord back to this Earth.”
Harry stood up—there was no need to hide when Emile had somehow spotted him. “Voldemort is dead; he’ll never return.”
“You’re wrong!” Emile snapped, suddenly switching up with such fury that Harry wondered if he was about to start cursing with reckless abandon. But then, like his outburst had never even happened, Emile returned to his happy, excited expression. “You’re wrong,” he repeated calmly. “This is the apex of my research. The Dark Lord will return, and he will change the world.”
“Too bad I’ll stop you before you get a chance to try,” Harry told him seriously.
“It’s too late,” Emile cackled. “The work is already underway.”
The bubbling pit of blood gurgled violently.
Harry’s wand snapped forward, firing a Blasting Curse towards the pit. At the last moment, Emile’s wand suddenly appeared in his hand, and he conjured a thick, magical shield to block it.
“Team!” Harry shouted. “Move up!”
The Ancromantula’s harsh scream was the only reply he received.
“They won’t be making it to you,” Emile grinned. “Now, let’s witness the Dark Lord’s rebirth together.”
Comments
Cody
Well now things seem to be heating up. Looking forward to what happens next!
