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(Enchanting Melodies) Chapter 447: Death and Darkness
🕑 Added 2025-03-25 14:01:15 +0000 UTCChapter 447: Death and Darkness
21 June 1995, Hogwarts
Marinakis’ grin turned bloodthirsty, and with a crack of lightning, he was gone. Harry exhaled, turning toward the waiting storm. Grindelwald had called. And now, Harry would answer.
Harry walked with purpose as he made his way back to the stands, ready for what awaited him. He couldn’t help but feel slightly victorious. He had, as far as he was concerned, just dealt a gigantic blow to the Light and Dark. They just didn’t know it yet. He had changed the course of Ragnarök to his needs. Now, he only needed to buy some time until everything is set up properly.
The main complication was Grindelwald. Dumbledore was essentially a non-entity now. It was funny how much Grindelwald twisted him, his supposed greatest enemy, into a mockery of a champion of Light. He had been played masterfully, every hurdle slowly making him sink into the darkness until a mockery of a man, a zealot was only what remained. The former headmaster had no horse in the race, not anymore. Grindelwald was planning on activating his ritual, which would essentially take anything magical to a new realm with him as a godly figure, or Harry would win, where Dumbledore and Grindelwald would be dead, and the magical world far from their control.
Now, all he had to do was stop or even just delay Grindelwald’s ritual. The ritual itself had to be complex given its scale and the energy probably coursing through it, and that meant that it would take time before it was ready, time that Harry planned to take advantage of. Unfortunately, this was easier said than done. Fighting Grindelwald alone was beyond foolish, especially at the height of his power. He had done so before and barely escaped by the skin of his teeth, and that was only because of Lily’s sacrifice.
So, yeah, the idea of delaying Grindelwald was nice and everything but it was beyond complicated to plan, which is why he needed a way into the fortress. Sneaking in wouldn’t have been enough; Grindelwald would have expected that and been ready for a hidden attack, hence the plan with Daphne. He wished that he hadn’t come up with it, to be honest.
Because, in the end, it meant placing her in danger—real, immediate danger. Daphne was sharp, ruthless when she needed to be, and a survivor above all else, but Grindelwald was a force of nature. A hurricane wrapped in fire and shadow. Harry had no illusions about what would happen if the old man realized she was more than just another pawn in the game.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. Worrying wouldn’t change the plan. He had done what he could to prepare her, and she was smart enough to keep herself alive. Now, he just had to do his part. The young wizard walked up the stands, back to the tournament, barely processing the thousands of spectators cheering as another contestant was eliminated. Out of curiosity more than anything, he looked at the contest and saw that three schools had been eliminated and that Hogwarts was hanging on by a thread thanks to a single champion.
But that wasn’t the time for sportsmanship or anything like that. Instead, he was staring at Daphne’s seat, which held a small piece of parchment instead of her. He took it and read it, his grip tightening with each word. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but the message was clear.
"Harry Potter,
Your friend is quite a fascinating creature. Do not worry, she is unharmed and will remain so depending on your choices moving forward. I am only asking for a single meeting, face to face. I believe that we have much to speak of. I imagine you agree.
This will be the last opportunity for us to speak to one another and solve our problem, the final problem, and time is almost upon us. I urge you to make the right decision.
Gellert Grindelwald.”
Harry’s jaw clenched. The parchment crumpled in his fist. He knew that this was coming. He had planned for it, even, but seeing the threat in person did not make things any better. It wasn’t hard to play the part, especially as a pale individual walked up to him and spoke up, “Harry Potter?”
He turned and saw five vampires hiding in plain sight, giving him very smug looks. They were probably hoping to see rage in his eyes, maybe even fear. Instead, what they got was steely eyes, “Grindelwald sent you.”
The lead vampire, a tall man with sunken cheekbones and a smile too sharp to be anything but predatory, dipped his head. "Indeed. And as you can see, he is most eager for your presence." His gaze flickered briefly to the parchment before returning to Harry’s face. "It would be unwise to delay, wouldn't you agree?"
Harry was really tempted to blast the smug look on their faces into smithereens, “I suppose it’s only polite,” he slipped the piece of parchment into his pocket and answered, “Lead the way.”
The vampires grinned, their amusement deepening, but they said nothing else as they turned and disappeared into the shadows of the stadium. This was it. The final moments of the calm before the storm. This was the breath before the war before Harry’s army attacked Nurmengard.
By now, Vlad and Marinakis should have put everyone in position. The ward specialists from the Department of Mysteries were all in position, as were the Lycans. Harry did regret binding Lupin the way he did. To be perfectly honest, it would have been far better to get him to agree to a simple deal much like he had done to Snape. Alas, it was obvious that the first Lycan wouldn’t risk his people in a way, even one for humanity’s fate. He would have protested the moment he knew the scale of the conflict and Harry didn’t want to risk it. A binding deal that neither of them would publicly protest or go back on their deal was the only way to ensure that Lupin wouldn’t run away with half his forces, trying to foolishly save them.
After all, Remus Lupin was a remarkably simple creature when you truly got to know him. Lily’s ritual had warped him, making his inner wolf always be at the forefront of his mind. Lupin had resisted it and instead of turning essentially feral, he concentrated on certain aspects of his wolf, namely his pack. From what Harry knew of Lycans, the whole pack mentality was sort of woven into every werewolf, the idea of being part of a greater whole, a bigger community, but it was just a basic instinct, which they could easily overcome. But Lupin was obsessed to the point of madness and would not risk his people if he could.
Nevertheless, this wasn’t the time to regret how he handled the Lycans. They were fighting and ready, and to be completely honest, Harry had no plans involving them in the future. If they survived the battle, then any debt they had towards him would be repaid.
Now, he needed to think of the moment, of Daphne, and the vampires leading him to Grindelwald, most likely to Nurmengard. They stayed silent for most of the trip there, but it seemed like Harry’s neutral expression irked a few of them.
One of the vampires, an Elder, specifically, let out a low chuckle, "You wear that mask well, Harry Potter," he said, his voice smooth and patient, like a predator toying with its prey. "But courage and foolishness are often the same thing. You think yourself beyond fear, beyond pain. I suppose that watching you break would be entertaining."
Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, but his silence allowed another vampire to lean in slightly, his fangs glinting as he whispered, "Did you think we would forget? You slaughtered our kin, cut them down like cattle. Did you think there would be no consequences?"
The young mage simply shrugged, “Which ones were those? I killed a lot of vampires. Are you talking about the idiots who attacked the World Cup or the ones in Rome? Maybe they’re the ones from Durmstrang. I don’t remember their faces, to be honest. There are too many of them. But I do remember a lot of screaming and begging. It’s funny, immortal unfeeling beings or not, they all broke down when I killed them.”
"You will beg," the first Elder promised, his voice now a low, menacing growl. "You will scream just as they did. You will beg as they have. our Lord is a generous man—he does not simply take back what is his. No, he gives in return. He will repay you; Harry Potter and you will understand the price of what you have taken from them. Maybe we’ll let that little blonde girl watch. Or maybe she’ll even join you."
Without another word, one of them raised a hand, and a swirling void of inky blackness ripped open in the space before them. Using his Arcane Hearing, Harry immediately understood what it was. This was a connection between two shadows, one in Hogwarts and one in Nurmengard, as well as a small portal to go through. It was quite innovative, as far as portals went, but really impractical. You needed to mark both shadows prior to forging the connection and let it sit for a few hours to charge it. It was frankly, very inefficient.
Still, without any hesitation, Harry went through and found himself at a familiar location. Vlad had shown it to him in a memory when they were planning the attack. This was the highest tower in Nurmengard, where the centre of Grindelwald’s ritual would take place.
Their theory was correct. Gellert Grindelwald was kneeling, his hands bleeding out some black liquid, which was formed into thousands of runes, which actually hid how complex the ritual was. The entire fortress itself was part of the ritual. Every stone carved around them was filled with runes that altered it, changing it in some way.
Grindelwald remained kneeling, not looking up immediately, but Harry knew better than to assume that meant the old man was unaware of his arrival. No, Grindelwald was always aware.
"You are early," the Dark Lord finally murmured, his voice hoarse yet laced with amusement, "But then, you were always in such a hurry, weren’t you, Harry Potter?"
“Where is Daphne?” he demanded.
“That’s quite demanding from a man in your position, Peverell. However, I suppose it’s only natural that you would be angry. Nevertheless, do not worry, she’s in the dungeons, being taken care of by a few of my servants, and she will remain there until we conduct our business together,” he then turned back to the ritual, “What do you think of it?”
Harry’s expression remained neutral, and he took the time to observe the ritual, analysing everything with his Arcane Hearing, “A magnificent piece of magic. It must have taken you years to plan something like this, let alone incorporate it into this very fortress. I’m almost sad that it will all be for nothing.”
He analysed the ritual as much as he could. Grindelwald bound it to his will. He did not really need to chant or do anything. Everything, from the greatest goals to the tiniest details was etched onto the fortress, essentially a focus of a single spell, powered by the single most powerful ritual the who had ever seen. A part of Harry had hoped that Grindelwald needed to be connected to the ritual in some way. He didn’t. He only needed to activate it, while waiting for it to power up.
Well, that accelerated the time frame a lot, and it also meant that Harry’s goal was now a lot harder. He needed to essentially make sure that Grindelwald wouldn’t activate the ritual, which didn’t exactly bode well for him.
The Champion of the Dark chuckled, “My victory here is inevitable, but I have not brought you here to brag. I realized that this is the first time we’ve ever spoken to one another in a civilized manner, and this will be the last opportunity for us to do so.”
“Let go of Daphne, and then we’ll talk about being civilized,” Harry retorted.
The Dark Lord rolled his eyes, “I think not. Young Ms. Greengrass is the only reason you aren’t attacking me right now. There is no need to fight, Harry, especially now that I have won.”
“You haven’t won anything yet,” Harry replied dryly, “Just because you think you're a dozen moves ahead doesn't mean the game is already over."
Grindelwald's lips curled into a knowing smile. With a flick of his fingers, a small, ornate chess set appeared between them, the pieces carved from deep obsidian and stark white marble, “Curious analogy with chess. You see the world as a game, don’t you? Plans upon plans, strategies on top of strategies, each one tailored to your specific opponent. You did it with Albus when you sealed his connection with the Light during your duel, and you did it in your fight with me when you countered my divination. You are a magnificent mage, Peverell. There are no doubts about that. But the world is not a game of chess, and this is why you lost.”
“I haven’t lost yet,” Harry replied, “The only reason you’re in an advantageous position is because you have Daphne.”
Grindelwald shook his head, disappointed, “My dear, taking Ms. Greengrass did nothing more than bring you here for a conversation. Leaving her alone was foolish of you, of course, but she was a target of opportunity, not a strategy. You have lost before you even played, young Peverell. Why don’t you let me demonstrate that to you with a game?”
“You want to play chess?” Harry’s tone was incredulous, but his mind was already working through the implications.
“Oh, come now, Peverell.” Grindelwald’s smirk widened. “Surely, you recognize a game when it is presented to you? A simple contest. No bloodshed. No fire and steel. Just two minds, battling in the quiet.”
He leaned forward, voice lowering to a whisper as if sharing a secret. “Perhaps we can make it even more interesting. Tell you what, as long as we play, I will not join the battlefield and massacre your pitiful army, nor will I activate the ritual. I will also not hurt Ms. Greengrass in any way, and should I lose, I will let her go. What about now, Peverell? Are you willing to play our little game?”
Harry could feel it, the intent of his magic, a pact. It was a promise and a sincere one at that, but it also expected one from Harry as well. To be honest, the young mage hadn’t anticipated this, but if Grindelwald was arrogant enough in his victory, then who was he to stop him when he was making a mistake, “I agree. As long as we play, I will also not join the battlefield and should I lose, I will not attempt to interrupt your ritual.”
He put a smidgen of his crest’s magic into the small verbal agreement, making it more binding. It was a curse in its nature, but it could barely be considered that, really. It was more like an enforcement of the agreement. It wasn’t binding by any means, but it could easily be confused with the actual magical agreement. Either one of them would break it, really, without dying, but the consequences would still weigh on them. It would be like trying to swim against a current that only grew stronger with resistance. A subtle force, an invisible shackle—not unbreakable, but certainly inconvenient. And in a game like this, even the smallest hesitation could be fatal.
Grindelwald’s gaze flickered, just for a moment, as if sensing the shift in magic. But his expression remained serene, his smirk unwavering. "Clever," he murmured, "but ultimately unnecessary. I have no intention of breaking my word, Harry. A game is far more interesting when both players follow the rules—at least at the start.”
Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He never expected Grindelwald to hold his words, but now, he had turned the attack into something else. It was pretty clear what the Dark Lord wanted, that their fighting wouldn’t mess with the fortress, not too much, at least, “What can I say? I’m a cautious man.”
The Dark Lord’s face turned into a predatory grin, “I suppose now is time for our game to begin, don’t we? Why don’t you play first? I’ve always been partial to black.”
Harry rolled his eyes and pushed his pawn forward, “We both have pieces on the board. You might have forced me to be here but my methods, my allies, are still out there.”
Grindelwald made a move of his own, “All you have is a little army of feral beasts and mercenaries. Your only suitable ally is Marinakis, a foreign mage that they do not trust. I would be surprised if they even got past the wards by the time our game ends.”
The young mage moved his knight, and the fortress started to shake slightly. The air grew thick with magic, the distant echoes of something shattering reverberating through the sky. Suddenly, the wards around Nurmengard cracked—jagged fractures of raw magic splintering through the air like glass under pressure, before rupturing. A deafening roar erupted from the army below, a collective battle cry that shook the very air itself.
At the chessboard, Grindelwald’s hand froze over his piece. His smirk faltered.
Harry leaned back, watching him. “You were saying?” His voice was almost lazy. “Go on, Grindelwald. It’s your move.”
AN: I'm still a bit sick, but a few days of rest helped a lot. As for this chapter, I'm not really sure about how it came out. The chess match seems a bit forced, I guess. I thought that it was a nice idea at first, but I’m not sure about the execution. The idea was to have Grindelwald be confident in his victory and try to bind Harry to the chess match while using Daphne as collateral. He is confident in his victory but wants to essentially get Harry to willingly back off in fear of some Harry bullshit and saw the chess match as a good way to do that since he would either be able to convince Harry to back off or just bait Harry into a confrontation and weaken him while doing that. There’s a deeper reason, which is explored in the next chapter, but that’s the gist of it. Given that this is an important chapter, I don’t mind rewriting it at all. So, as usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
Anthony
👍
Abe 7
Oh, that was epic! Dumbledore and Grindelwald are awesome characters. They have a refinedness to them that Voldemort lacks. Maybe Tom Riddle could have been similar but not Voldemort. And Harry as always delivers. As Grindelwald said "plans within plans and strategies upon strategies". Loved it. Trying to imagine and anticipate what the checkmate move is going to be.
