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Innovator; Chapter 13: Friends from the Past
🕑 Added 2023-11-23 20:34:08 +0000 UTCAuthor’s Note: Hello my dear patron family. Here’s chapter thirteenth of Innovator. Hope you like it! Do tell how it was in the comments. Also, Chapters 1-10 are on my fanfiction and ao3 profile.
The previous chapters have been corrected. Thank you for your patience, my beta reader and I are working on the chapters.
Author Out!
“I am Talking.”
‘I am Thinking’
Spells
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In war, prepare for peace; in peace, prepare for war.
~Sun Tzu (The Art of War)
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INNOVATOR
-Dev Sagittarius Black
~~Chapter 13: Friends from the Past~~
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The boy released a deep breath, and his eyes focused on the way he was moving through to reach the great hall. His body moved on autopilot as he had traversed the same path for years. But his mind was full of a myriad of thoughts that were taking their toll on him.
What had the Enlightened One planned for him? Why did she ask Dumbledore to forsake his control over the Deathstick? Why was he supposed to master control over two hallows, and what was the need to give him such tools of destruction?
Dumbledore had told him all about the whispers of the wand. The first Hallow wasn’t called Deathstick for nothing. The wand’s history was drenched in the blood of its wielders. Granted, even the headmaster, or the Enlightened One, had no idea exactly why the Deathstick killed its wielders with the passage of time.
There were still theories, the most prominent being that the wand was actually looking for a Peverell master because only someone of Peverell blood would be able to unlock the true power of the Wand of Destiny.
Harry already knew that the Deathly Hallows were cursed objects. They were said to be merchants of deaths, artifacts of immeasurable power but insidious in nature. Each of the hallows had a different whisper that came with it.
The Invisibility Cloak, for example, had the Allure of Protection. Its inherent magic was ingrained to hide the wielder from everything; it was said to be a part of Death’s own cloak, and Death couldn’t be stopped by any barrier that was crafted from the hands of a mortal.
One might think that there was nothing wrong with an allure that gives you protection. And they might be right too, until they came to know that the whispers made the wielder think that nothing in the world could ever harm them.
Like they were safe from everything. It was as if there was nothing, magical or mundane, that could touch them, and it was nigh impossible to harm them. This one thing led the users to be more chaotic in nature, and if someone succumbed to its madness, then they were bound to be brash, more chaotic, and arrogant.
Something that has been proven detrimental to human lives.
Similarly, the Elder Wand also had an allure of its own. The Enlightened One said that it was known as the Allure of Annihilation.
The allure made the wielder think that they were invincible, their name was unconquerable, and their power was indestructible. They whispered the power of destruction, and their magic was ingrained with the sole purpose of utter annihilation. Something that had been seen by almost all of its previous welders who fell for the Allure of Annihilation.
It was said to be the only untamed allure, as the wand had been unable to pass from one generation to another without blood on its name. Unlike the Cloak of Invisibility that had witnessed several generations of Potters and probably Peverells before them, the Resurrection stone, the whereabouts of which were still unknown, was once an heirloom of the Ancient house of Gaunts, who originated from the Peverells.
The same couldn’t be said for the Deathstick, the wand that was now in his possession. Dumbledore still kept the wand, but the wand had declared itself almost dead for its previous wielder. The magic from the wand was now sluggish for him, as if it were being forced from the tool of destruction.
Dumbledore had told Harry the ways to ignore the whispers and how the Enlightened One had helped the headmaster conquer it when he had first entered the Guild all those years ago. The complete process was something that he couldn’t share. Ergo, all the headmaster had told him was how to halt his descent into madness.
Harry sighed when he noticed the large doors of the Great Hall. It would definitely take him some time, and he knew that there was no way that he would be able to control the wand until he went back to the guild on December Twentieth. That’s when she called him and would likely teach him how to conquer the Wand of Destiny.
The innovator didn’t know exactly what he had expected when he joined the great hall. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t every eye in the great hall being trained at him. This time, he actually wondered what it was because, as he remembered, he hadn’t done anything to get his name in the papers or through the rumour mill, for that matter.
He ignored the stares and made his way towards his house table, swiftly taking his seat between Blaise and Fleur.
“How’s it going, mate?” Blaise asked him, and Harry shrugged in response. He had told his friends that he was out of Hogwarts because of some guild work; it was partially true, as it was his primary reason for all that had happened in the last few days. But when Madam Pomfrey asked him whether he would like to tell his friends or his brother that he was here.
Harry had declined. He wanted some peace of mind and to think about everything thoroughly. The last few days had been a rollercoaster of emotions, work, and action. He was honestly quite tired and wanted some rest. He didn’t know exactly when he would get the time to sleep peacefully, and he didn’t want to waste the one he had been bestowed with.
“Hogwarts missed you; you have been quite scarce lately.” Marrietta said it from his opposite end.
“Hopefully, I’ll be here now. I had a few busy days.” Harry told her as they began to eat. The stares slowly receded as the students realised that Harry was a normal guy and not some lost species of Crumple-horned Snorkack.
The group idly chatted among themselves. Harry learned about the classes that had happened and the homework he had to finish. Unfortunately, being a top-class guild member of the scariest and most powerful guild, the first innovator in five hundred years, and the eighth richest man in Britain obviously didn’t mean he could get a reprieve from his homework.
The other new thing he learned was that Cho was being officially courted by Cedric Diggory, as his intended. Therefore, she spent most of her time with the Hogwarts Champion. Speaking of which, he came to know that his brother had made himself scarce these past few days.
He only came to eat his meals and attend a few classes that were really important, like Transfigurations, Charms, and CoMC. Alandale had even stopped flying, and no one knew where the boy spent his days.
That was something that made Harry frown. He knew his brother was an idiot. His last few adventures at the end of every year proved that more than anything. But that didn’t mean that his brother was a recluse. And this behaviour was quite concerning, if not a bit worrying. Maybe he could stop his brother and talk to him sometime? Maybe.
There was nothing he could do if the idiot decided to keep being stubborn and be a brat, but if there was something troubling him, the least Harry could do was ask once. It wasn’t like he would coddle the boy; this was just a simple concern.
Half-way through his meal, his eyes fell on the Slytherin table, and he saw the one person he didn’t expect to see anytime soon.
Daphne Greengrass.
She was sitting there, looking picture perfect as she conversed with her sister and her friend, who sat on either side. The girl didn’t look like she was cursed, tortured, or suffered trauma of any kind, as told to him. Instead, she looked like she was having the time of her life, which was quite the opposite of what he had been told.
It was then that the doors to the great hall opened again, and the hall went silent. This time Harry couldn’t help but feel smug about it because, this time, it was him who could be held responsible for the silence that presided over the great hall.
Albus Dumbledore gave a genial smile as he went towards the teacher’s table and took his seat in the center. Some of the teachers were also shocked, as they hadn’t seen Dumbledore like this since he came back from his expedition.
Dumbledore was as nonchalant as ever as he filled his plate with roasted chicken and mashed potatoes and proceeded to devour them. Completely ignoring the agape faces of students and teachers alike.
“Pro-Professor?” The astronomy professor Aurora Snistra called him.
“Yes Aurora? How may I help you today?”
“I-what happened to your beard, sir? I mean, it’s not as long as it…” She trailed off, and Dumbledore chuckled as his eyes fell on Harry.
“Someone helpfully pointed out that it had been some time since I had groomed my beard, dear,” He told her, “and I quite like the change it brings as I don’t have to comb it again and again." He smiled when the staff table and the nearby students laughed at it, and with that, the news dissipated.
"Blaise?" Harry asked his Italian friend who was busy chatting with Fleur. The boy turned to look at him with a confused frown but that same happy-go-lucky smile.
"Yeah, Harry?"
"Dobby told me that you came to warm me about something?" The innovator asked him, "Though you didn't exactly tell him what you came to warm me for."
Blaise frowned at first before he made a silent 'o' as realization hit him and he gave a sheepish chuckle, "Err, yeah. It wasn't something for the elf's ears, you know."
Harry shrugged, "He knows almost everything about me and is quite trusted, next time if I am not there, you can tell him."
Blaise nodded but then he looked around himself and leaned a bit closer, "So, the thing I came to warn you about," He whispered conspiratorially, as if it was a big secret that might cause World War III, Harry still decided to indulge his wayward friend.
"It's not common knowledge at the moment, but Fleur is a Triwizard Champ, you know, so they got to know this before other students and she has told me," He again checked around himself.
"Told you what, exactly?" Harry frowned.
"The Triwizard Tournament has always has a certain function that's held on yule, everyone is supposed to participate in it," Blaise whispered, "It's called-"
It was precisely at this moment when McGonagall tapped her goblet and gained the attention of every student and teacher present in the great hall.
“I would like to have your attention and complete silence for the next few minutes,” She said as she stood up from her chair, “I am quite sure some of you already know that, but there are still many who are completely unaware of the upcoming celebrations that the Triwizard Tournament brings with itself.”
The transfiguration mistress looked at every one of them and said, “The first task successfully ended a few days ago, and finally our healer, Madam Pomfrey, has finally declared that we have successfully been healed from the events of the first task.”
“This is why it is time for us to welcome the next event, which will take place on Yule." She smiled at everyone, which was a rarity in itself, “I would like everyone, who is a fourth year or older, to join us for the Yule Ball.”
Moments after it was announced, the great hall was buzzing with excited whispers. The wizards had pained faces as they looked at the witches, who were giggling and huddled together in groups.
Blaise tapped on Harry's shoulder to get his attention, as the boy was busy ignoring the girls that had suddenly taken an interest in him, "Harry?"
"Yes, I am listening."
"The Yule Ball."
"What?" Harry looked at his friend who gave a cheeky grin.
"That's what I was warning you about, ah well, looks like you aren't safe anymore," Blaise grinned and went back to his food.
'You little piece of....' Harry glared at the Italian boy before giving him a hard poke in the ribs, and completely ignored the boy when he glared at Harry, 'Serves him right for being cheeky'
One thing was sure: the next few days were going to be quite exciting for the young mages.
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“CRUCIO!!!!”
Red eyes glared at the form of Lucius Malfoy as the man screamed his eyes out. His wife and son were both in the chamber, and they watched as their husband and father was being punished for the blunder that had cost their lord a part of his soul.
The curse was carried for another minute, and Lucius Malfoy was released to calm himself before he could be put under the curse again. This was his fourth one, and Voldemort wanted to see how long the Malfoy Lord could last before he succumbed to either unconsciousness or insanity.
Bellatrix cackled loudly and even kicked Malfoy once. Much to her displeasure, the man was already in too much pain to be affected by her kick. She kicked him again for that.
“Bellatrix,” Voldemort called his loyal servant, “I am sure you would like to warm your magic once more, am I not?”
Bellatrix excitedly bobbed her head, as if she had just been waiting to do so. She even flicked her wand out, which was spurting out violent sparks from the other end.
Voldemort hummed, “You can take our prisoner and teach him the fault in his ways in the dungeons. Make sure to remind him that a gift from Lord Voldemort isn’t an artifact to be toyed with just for the satisfaction of one’s ego.”
Bellatrix’s eyes gleamed at the prospect. She practically vibrated with excitement as she levitated the prone form of Lucius Malfoy and started moving towards the dungeons of the Malfoy manor.
Voldemort was pleased to notice that the other two Malfoys stayed where they were. They weren’t running off to beg Bellatrix so that she wouldn’t torture one of their own to insanity like she had done with the Longbottoms.
“Narcissa,” Voldemort whispered as new plans started forming in his head, “Your husband made a grave mistake by losing the gift that I had entrusted him with, and I would have liked to punish the fool myself.”
Narcissa waited for the Dark Lord to finish; she knew that he wouldn't have singled her out if it wasn’t for something that he required of her. And she was afraid of that. What pained her more was that the screams started again; this time they were muffled, but Narcissa knew that the pain behind them was still the same, if not more.
“I am quite sure that you want to check on your husband now; go on. I won’t stop you,” Voldemort was pleased to see that Narcissa didn’t move even an inch. “Your resolution to our cause impresses me, Narcissa, if only your husband was as sincere as you are.”
Narcissa bowed her head. There were three reasons for her not running after Lucius when the Dark Lord gave her permission. First, she couldn’t leave Draco alone with the Dark Lord; second, she knew that Bellatrix wouldn’t stop as her sister never listened to anyone other than the Dark Lord himself; and lastly, Lucius deserved what he received. If it wasn’t for her foolish husband, she wouldn’t be playing hostess to a psychopath.
“Tell me, Narcissa, what do you think you should do to salvage the mistake of your husband?” Voldemort asked her as he beckoned the woman forward.
“Anything you wish, my lord,” Narcissa bowed. “It will be done.”
The dark lord hummed thoughtfully before his face split with a small grin, and his red eyes glinted in the darkness of the room, “Then I’ll ask you to leave young Malfoy with me. I have a task for him.”
Narcissa flinched at that. She had been expecting this; in fact, she knew that there would come a time when her son would join his father and kiss the darklord’s arse. But to hear it from the Dark Lord, and that too so soon. It made her bones shudder.
“My-My lord?” She asked the Dark Lord and immediately looked down when she saw his smile disappear.
"Yes, Narcissa, didn’t you just say you’d do anything to salvage your House? I am just asking for heir Malfoy to do three tasks for me; for his inclusion in the inner circle, I thought you would be more thankful for my mercy.”
Narcissa immediately nodded, “It is generous of you, my lord; of course Draco will do anything you ask of him,” She told him.
Voldemort hummed again before he looked at the Malfoy heir, whose eyes were glinting like galleons, “Draco Malfoy, come here. I have my first task for you now." He then looked at Narcissa and said, “And Narcissa, you are free to leave now. Make sure to check on Bella and prevent her from going further than necessary. She can be a little too…aggressive in her approach.”
Narcissa bowed once before she left the throne room; her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. She didn’t know what she should do to protect her son; she cursed Lucius again, her plans to protect their son until he reached majority got foiled because of her husband’s foolishness.
The lady of the house knew that there was no one who could save their son now. And that Lord Voldemort would probably give the young boy an impossible task, which he would probably fail and end up losing his life.
That was when Narcissa stopped. There was someone; he might not help her completely, but there were chances that he would do his level best to help her protect her son. She just didn’t know how to face the man after all these years, but she knew that she had to try. If only for the betterment of her son’s future.
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The black sand rose from the ground and swirled in the air, slowly rising to form a small tornado. A person stepped out from the tornado and looked at the black castle in front of him.
His wrinkled gray eyes took in the black castle made of granite. His aged fingers left his long white beard, and he snapped them to get rid of the black soot from his olive green robes. The man looked overhead at the thundering clouds and shook his head. He was already missing the bright sun that shone over his abode.
The geriartic man moved towards the entrance of the castle, which was being guarded by a statue of the Grim Reaper. He placed the black scroll that he had received a week ago in the bowl of murky red water that was offered to him.
The scroll dissolved, and immediately the gatekeeper guardian’s eyes glowed green as he placed the bowl on the aisle beside him and bowed towards the elderly visitor.
“Welcome Master Atticus Wenlock, Highmaster of the Arithmancer Guild." It looked up and turned towards the inside of the guild, "Please, Master Wenlock, follow me to meet her.”
Wenlock nodded and started following the statue of the grim reaper with the eerie glow in its eyes. He tried not to look at the skulls and the blood runes that were drawn on the walls of the entrance hallway. No matter how many times he visited them, the Necromancer Guild still gave him the chills.
No wonder it was also the strongest of the top three guilds on earth.
The reaper stood to the side of a stairwell and forwarded his hand towards the descending stairs, “She is waiting for you at the end of these stairs, master Wenlock.”
Atticus didn’t say anything and instead started his descent down the stairwell. He knew that the journey would be somewhat tiring, and since he was just a few minutes from the required time, he was sure that the other one would already be down there.
He reached the end of the stairwell and saw the stone archway that would lead him to her chamber. Deciding to get over whatever it was that she had requested his presence for, he joined her in the chamber.
“And here comes the Man who knows Infinity,” The Enlightened One said as she looked towards the newest arrival and stood up from her chair, "Welcome, Master Wenlock. I hope we find you in good health?” She asked him with a disarming smile.
Atticus looked at the woman and nodded. “Thank you. I am sorry for the delay, I was held up due to some work.”
“As if we were free.”
The scathing reply from the other occupant didn’t go unnoticed, and Atticus visibly bristled at the young woman who was sitting beside the Enlightened One. Well known as the Lady of a Thousand Lives, Mistress Perenelle Flamel, the Guildmaster of the Alchemist Guild which was the third of the top three strongest guilds on earth.
“I never thought that I would ever see that plastic-coated face of yours again, Perenelle,” Atticus grumbled as he took the only seat left at the round table, “How I wish Nicholas hadn’t taken his retirement for another thousand years.”
“As if you’d ever have the privilege of a thousand-year-long life, Atticus.” Perenelle rolled her eyes and looked at the Enlightened One who was smiling at the both of them as if they were her children. Technically, both of them were young when they joined their respective guilds, and she was already the Guildmaster by that time. She had even helped by guiding the two of them and their guilds to achieve the position they now sat in.
It was one of the major reasons why they respected her and why they had answered her call. Usually, they would have sent a representative instead of leaving their guilds and coming here by themselves. But she had specifically requested that they join her for this important meeting. Ergo, neither of them had been able to refuse her.
“So, what is this important thing that you had requested our presence for, Lady Achlys?"
The Enlightened One’s demeanor immediately changed; her smile dropped, and her eyes got as cold as shards of ice.
“The ancient prophecy of destruction is now in its final stages, and I request your help in its successful completion,” Achlys said, looking at the shocked faces of her fellow Guildmasters.
“The Ancient Prophecy of Destruction?" Perenelle asked, “Are you sure this is the one? Because the prophecy proclaims the descent of madness on earth.”
Achlys nodded, “Yes, I am sure that this is the ancient prophecy, and almost everything is going just like the cursed words told by the seer Cassandra.”
“But what is the proof or even a glimpse of what is happening?” Atticus asked them, his mind going a mile a minute.
“The wizard known as Lord Voldemort has returned.” Achlys announced without any preamble; it just wasn’t her way to mix words when the context was way more important.
“Voldemort? Wasn’t he a wraith that was hovering over the planes of life just to persist a moment longer?” Perenelle asked the Enlightened One, her brows crinkling in confusion. Albus Dumbledore, her husband’s student and friend, had asked for their stone to lure and finish Voldemort a few years ago. How was the Dark Lord still alive?
“Yes, he was. But he regained a much stronger human form a few weeks ago, and since then, he has been working relentlessly to amass his forces,” Achlys told them, “His forces are of no consequence to us, but his presence on earth is.”
“What do you mean? If you are worried that the demented thing could even dream of coming after either one of our guilds, then he has another thing coming for him. Even powerful dark lords like Herpo-the-Foul, Emeric-the-Evil, and Gellert Grindelwald chose their lives and didn’t attack us.”
“It’s not the attack that worries me, Master Atticus; it’s the duration of his stay on earth,” She whispered.
“But how could his…wait…” He looked at Perenelle and asked, “Didn’t you say that the heathen was a wraith? Barely living and escaping his demise by a fool’s breath?”
Perenelle agreed, “Yes, a few years ago, headmaster Dumbledore of Hogwarts asked us for our stone; it was supposed to lure the dark lord out, and then he was supposed to bind the wraith so that it couldn’t cause any more destruction." She looked at Achlys, “I am assuming he was supposed to transport the trapped wraith to you?”
Achlys didn’t say anything and instead looked at Atticus, whose face had turned as white as a sheet. She could feel his mental gears working and knew that he would reach the correct answer any moment now.
“The Crevice in Creation…” Atticus muttered and looked at Achlys, who nodded once, "The revival of Voldemort’s human form has created a crevice in the creation, right? The spirits of all the demented humans that are trapped in the Land of Death will come through the crevice and cause…”
“A descent of madness…” Perenelle whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the information, “And this could only be stopped by killing Voldemort and sending his soul to the realm of death, and we have to do that before the Crevice grows big enough for the billions of souls on the other side to enter through, right?” She had read the same tomes that the other two had read and knew exactly what would happen if there was a Crevice in Creation.
Especially if the Crevice wasn’t closed as soon as possible by the death of the one who’s act led to the formation of the Crevice. That person was also mentioned in the tomes as ‘The Harbinger of Damnation’.
Achlys just gave another nod and watched as both the Guildmasters slumped in their seats, “This is why you said that his stay on earth is more dangerous than his forces,” Atticus said, and again she hummed.
“Merlin…to even think that something like that will happen,” Perenelle whispered, her body shaking like a leaf as she imagined the army.
All of the demented souls since the time of creation that had not attained a peaceful afterlife were said to be trapped in a dimension called ‘The Land of Death’. Each soul there was either a dark lord, a mercenary, a chain killer, or a terrorist, and each one of them had lived a life of cruelty. They were said to be punished in that land till they reached purity and attained peace.
They were rightfully referred to as ‘The Army of Damnation’. Perenelle had never seen them, nor did she wish to. But they had heard tales. Tales of what the Army of Damnation would do if even one of them managed to find their way to the Land of Living.
‘And here, the entire army was going to come through the Crevice’ Perenelle thought as she rubbed her forehead, “How much time do we have before the Army of Damnation descends in the Land of the Living?”
Achlys frowned as she tried to think about it, “He came back two weeks ago, so even though I can’t tell you the exact time, I can say that we have about seven months to prevent this.”
“Less than a year!” Atticus grumbled as he slammed the table, “How fast is that Crevice increasing in size?!”
No one said anything as the two Guildmasters pondered over what they had just learned before Atticus asked, “I am assuming that his return is the reason our Eternal Sphere has been unbalanced for some time? For that matter, who else knows of this Crevice?”
Achlys nodded, “The previous user of the First Hallow of my Master, Albus Dumbledore,” She said, looking at Perenelle, “I told him, and he is already taking steps to prevent another rise of Voldemort; he will be managing the threat that is the dark lord, and we have to ensure that the bigger threat doesn’t come to completion.”
Perenelle hummed, but Atticus’ mind caught something that she missed: “Previous user of the Deathstick, you say?” He asked Achlys, who smiled at him, “Where is the wand now?”
“With the one who is going to fulfill the prophecy in our favour and stop this destruction,” She leaned forward and smiled with something akin to pride: “Harry Potter.”
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Voldemort watched the young Malfoy heir move towards the doors. The boy had been given his first task; it wasn’t impossible—quite the opposite, in fact. Considering it was a simple retrieval mission.
Draco Malfoy had been asked to retrieve his fifth horcrux, the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, from the Room of Requirement. He was sure that the boy would be able to bring the Horcrux during the Yule holiday. It was important to do so, as there was a chance that Dumbledore might be after his other horcruxes too.
He had already lost four of the six he had made, and he knew that his damaged soul wouldn’t be able to handle another fracture to make another one. There were only two of his soul containers left now: the cup of Helga Hufflepuff that was in the LeStrange Vault and the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.
If only Lucius hadn’t been foolish enough to give away his first Horcrux. His diary held the exact half of his soul and was the strongest horcrux that he had made. The same couldn’t be said for others, as they were halves of their previous halves. If he had absorbed the soul in the diary instead of the one in Nagini, he would have regained half of his true power.
‘Well, my current power isn’t something to be laughed at either..and if everything goes as planned, then I’ll have my horcruxes with me soon,’ Voldemort thought gleefully.
The door to the throne room opened, and the Dark Lord looked at his loyal servant, who had entered. There was insanity in her eyes, and she was really trying her best not to smile. But the Dark Lord could feel that she was really excited, as if she had just attained salvation after years of torture.
Which, in her cruel and twisted way, she had.
“I am assuming that Narcissa was successful in saving her husband from insanity." Voldemort asked her.
“Barely my lord, Cissy didn’t even say anything till he lost his consciousness,” Bellatrix answered, “I am sure that there is no love lost between the Malfoys, and she would probably kill her own husband if it saved her and her son.”
“Then we must make sure to save young Malfoy till it’s needed; we can’t have your sister risking our cause. Not until we are strong enough to wage another war for our rights and to teach the mudbloods the error in their ways.”
Bellatrix’s violet eyes gleamed in excitement when she heard her lord’s declaration of justice. For it was just that—a declaration. Something that has been started and won’t be stopped until they have achieved it.
“What are we going to do now, my lord?” The crazy woman asked him.
“I think our friends have been denied their rightful freedom for far too long,” Voldemort stood up from his throne and started moving towards the door. “It’s time, Lord Voldemort, offers freedom to those who have stayed loyal to him through the years. Tell the spy that we have in Hogwarts not to answer the next call; it won’t do us any good if he shows his face for the time being.”
Bellatrix nodded and skipped behind the Dark Lord as they moved out of the Malfoy manor. The duo then trespassed the ward line, and her master made a portkey. They held it before they were whisked into a swirl of robes.
Voldemort looked at the horizon; he didn’t feel the chills that came due to the northern winds. They were of no consequence to him, as he had long ago shed anything that could affect a mortal and halt their progression to power. His new body was way above the limits of a mere human, something for which he was thankful.
“What do you see, Bella?”
Bellatrix looked at the horizon and saw the small shack that the ferryman lived in. He was the man who was responsible for taking officials from the ministry to and fro.
“I will stun the man, my lord; that’s how I escaped last time when Crouch came to visit me; it will be easier that way,” Bellatrix said, and she was about to do that when Voldemort’s voice stopped her.
“Bella, I am way above the bounds suffered by mortals,” His voice was as smooth as silk. “Take my hand; this way I will be able to guide you to greatness.”
With nary a thought, Bellatrix made the same mistake that she had made all those years ago when she attended the first meeting of the Pureblood movement: Offer herself to Lord Voldemort. She took his hand, and Voldemort gave a cruel smirk before he launched both of them into the air and started flying towards the prison. Half of his body was covered in smoke as he propelled himself and Bellatrix with his magic.
The two reached the lone island that hosted the wizarding prison, Azkaban. Voldemort could see his previous supporters floating around the building, swooping in and out of the cells as the inmates cried in agony. It was time to rebuild his forces, and that’s why he was here.
Today he would free his servants and revive the pact with the Dementors. It was time for Lord Voldemort to rise again.
‘It’s time for another declaration of war…’ Voldemort thought as he launched himself towards the gates of the cruellest prison on earth: The Azkaban.
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Ending note: There you have it fellas, chapter Thirteen of Innovator, hope you liked it.
Liked it? Loved it? Needs some changes? Please, do tell.
I am waiting for all your comments. Constructive criticism is appreciated.
Those who have joined my discord server, please tell one of the mods or me about it in the server to get the patrons role, I am most active in my server so you can freely ask anything there.
Link: https://discord.gg/Gcbcv4dxGx
Name: Dev Black's Empire
Thank you for reading and comments.
With regards,
Dev Black
