The following morning, the five of them were once again gathered together in the cháteau's private sitting room, Harry and the girls sitting together on a couch and Adrastia across from them in an armchair.
Harry placed a vial on the coffee table sitting between them. It was filled it a colorless liquid that somehow managed to be simultaneously clear and opaque, a contradiction that only magic could mash together.
"And what is this?" Adrastia asked curiously, holding the vial up to her eyes and turning it around as if that would reveal its secrets.
"Elixir of Life." Harry said simply.
Adrastia froze for a moment and then a smile bloomed on her face.
Harry and the girls were taken aback at how genuine the expression was. One could almost forget that this woman was a serial killer with a mile wide streak of emotional sadism when she smiled like that.
"More than six hundred years ago, Nicholas Flamel made the worst mistake of his life when he boasted about his success in creating the Philosopher's Stone." She said softly, turning to look at Harry with a more familiar amused expression. "I must admit that it is gratifying to see that you are wiser than that. For a prize like this, I will serve you gladly."
"A word of warning about the Elixir before you drink it....."
"Yes?" Adrastia asked uncertainly.
"It's incredibly addicting." He said simply. "The first dose will make you feel like you got hit by lightning, in a good way. The intensity fades within minutes, but you'll always know when your body is juiced up on the Elixir, and if you don't take it regularly you'll start experiencing withdrawal symptoms from hell."
Harry should know, having gone through it himself, in the name of science of course. He'd tested it on rats first, then on a captured Death Eater and finally on himself when he felt that he'd learned all he could from observation.
Fleur and Dora had not been amused to find out that he'd used himself as a guinea pig, but couldn't really protest too much to him beginning to take the Elixir since his body was in its prime right now. It would have been different it he was actually as old as his date of birth suggested, but with the accelerated maturation due to his runes and all the time he'd spent in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber recently, he was closer to twenty-one than to eighteen and his body's physical development was probably somewhere around twenty-five.
"I don't see the problem with that as long as you continue to supply me with it." Adrastia shrugged and quickly downed the Elixir.
She immediately went through a full body shudder and a downright lewd moan slipped from her throat.
"Oh my." She breathed, looking at him with eyes that sparkled with life. "You weren't kidding. How long will this dose last me?"
"I'd give it about a month and a half, give or take a week. It depends on how active you are."
"Can't I just take more, let's say enough to last me a few years?"
"Only if you want to spontaneously combust. Too much life force is bad for you." Harry explained wryly, smirking at Adrastia's surprised blink.
"Poor Horatio. He didn't deserve to die like that." Luna said somberly.
"They're called lab rats for a reason, the same reason that I told you not to name them, coincidentally." Harry rolled his eyes.
"How heartless!" Adrastia gasped theatrically, holding a hand to her breast and smirking. She was obviously in a grand mood.
"Yes, quite." He drolled in response. "But enough about the tragedy of Horatio. I'm sure you'd like to know why you were offered the Elixir in the first place?"
"You wanted to add some color to your harem?" She asked. Her tone was innocent and breathy like some kind of earnest young intern, but her eyes smouldered with carnal promises. "I will not disappoint you."
Harry very deliberately did not shift in place as his body responded. Adrastia made the veela's seduction game seem as subtle as a battering ram in comparison. Too much reliance on the Allure versus natural talent and learned skill no doubt. Although thinking of the veela did give him an idea.....
"You should arrange for an appointment with Fleur's grandmother then, I'm sure she'll have you trained up to snuff as a proper concubine in no time." He said blithely, taking perverse enjoyment in the flash of indignation that passed through her eyes. "But no, that's not why you were offered this bargain."
"Do tell." She said, somewhat less playfully.
"Basically, we need a spymistress." Harry said bluntly. "Our intelligence gathering ability outside of Spellhaven is more limited than I'm comfortable with and you seem well connected. I want to know if the magical governments of the world are thinking of doing anything stupid and I'd especially like to know what the hell Bjomolf and his fellow bloodsuckers are playing at."
"That is a role I could certainly fulfill." Adrastia said thoughtfully. "Although I think you may be overestimating what I know of the vampires and their plots."
"We'll see." He said simply. "Let's start with where we left off yesterday. What is your personal theory for Bjomolf's sudden burst of helpfulness?"
"I would say that he is most likely trying to get your attention. As I said before, it is unlike him to be this obvious. Why he wants to get your attention and why he is doing it in this particular manner I could not guess at."
"Hmm." Harry nodded. "Who is Goran Gojkov?"
Adrastia was startled by that. "Now how did you come across that name?"
"Interrogating Death Eaters. Seems like some mysterious third party hired him to help with Voldemort's resurrection and then he stuck around to train the Death Eaters for a while after that."
"That is....unexpected." She said carefully. "Goran is one of the more competent, but lesser known, wizard mercenaries in the world. I have employed him once myself, as I believe I mentioned to you years ago, and I know that the vampires sometimes use him as well."
"So, why would Bjomolf help Voldemort get his feet under him again and then turn around and help me take him down?"
"Your guess is as good as mine." Adrastia shrugged. "The only insight I can give you is that Bjomolf does not really do anything short-term. Whatever plan this is supposed to further was likely conceived decades before we were born and might very well not come to fruition for decades more. The only clear certainty is that you play some part in it."
"Couldn't we simply ignore him?" Fleur asked.
"It isn't that straightforward." Adrastia shook her head. "Bjomolf is an extremely good judge of character, able to accurately discern people's personalities, motivations and likely actions with only brief interactions and even from second-hand accounts. The first time I met him, he already had me mostly figured out. He might know that you will eventually be forced to take the bait no matter what and is setting it out early to give himself an advantage when it does happen. He might be counting on you to refuse and is using it as a distraction or a means of guiding you to where he really wants you to go. It could even be both at the same time and you will end up playing into his hands no matter which option you choose."
Harry blew air out of his nose noisily. "What an irritating person to deal with."
Adrastia cracked a smile. "That he is."
"What would you do in my shoes then?"
"Most likely I would just confront him directly." She shrugged again. "However unusual his behavior towards you is, he is not in the habit of making dangerous enemies unless absolutely necessary. It is unlikely that you will be in any immediate danger. I could set up a meeting for you if you wish?"
"Let's hold off on that for now." Harry declined.
"Very well, is there anything else you wish of me?" Adrastia asked, smiling suggestively.
"A full report on your own sources of information and areas of influence. For now, just summarise it for me."
"How dull." Adrastia pouted playfully. "I have just over a hundred men with their libidos enthralled to me scattered all over the world, although most of them are concentrated in Europe and the Americas. I have mostly used them to collect rumors or to act as pawns and scapegoats. They are now at your disposal of course, but if I am to be your spymistress I will need to take some time to reorganise them. Not to mention do a little.....recruiting."
"Is it wrong that I'm kind of impressed?" Fleur muttered.
Tonks clenched her jaw at the amused smirk on Adrastia's face. Damn but this woman irritated her.
"Yeah, about that...." She spoke up.
"Yes, Nymphadora?" Adrastia's amusement only seemed to increase.
Tonks wanted to snap at the woman to not call her that, but that somehow felt like handing her a victory.
"If you're going do to some 'recruiting', then focus on the arseholes first."
"You will have to be a little more specific, Nymphadora." Adrastia retorted playfully. "I'm afraid that all men are more or less the same to me. Except Harry of course. He is special."
Tonks glowered.
"Easy there, she's just winding you up." Harry said, patting her hand. On her other side, Luna cuddled up to her and the irritation guttered out quickly.
"And you can stop being deliberately obtuse." Harry said pointedly to Adrastia. "You know damn well what she was saying."
"I suppose." Adrastia sighed in a put upon manner. "Very well, I will try to target the less genial men first. They are often more fun anyway."
"And stay away from the married ones." Tonks added.
"Now you are just being unreasonable." Adrastia scoffed. "Do you have any idea how few men are still single by the time they get anywhere useful in life?"
"Let her do things her way, Dora." Harry interjected. "Micromanaging her will just make her useless."
"But we can't just let her go around destroying marriages for our gain." Tonks protested with a frown.
"Not to worry, most marriages end up destroying the people trapped in them anyway." Adrastia reassured. "Giving the men in them something to pine for improves their lives more often than not."
There was much skepticism to be had in response to this narcissistic statement.
"Right...." Harry said, deciding to move forward. "In any case, I'll be waiting for that report and you can expect me to send you a list of places I'd like you to infiltrate once I've gone over it."
"I wonder if this is what having a pimp feels like?" Adrastia mused, smothering a smile when she saw the discomfort bloom in the body language of the metamorphmagus and the veela.
"Not until I start dressing like Dumbledore and taking up a ridiculous fake name like Riddle." Harry deadpanned after a moment's surprise that she would go there.
"I did not need that mental image." Tonks said with audible cringe.
"Me neither." Fleur agreed with a grimace of her own.
"I don't get it." Luna frowned in puzzlement.
"I am sure Harry will be able to explain the nuances of prostitution in recent times to you later." Adrastia chuckled.
Harry gave her a Look. Explaining the 'nuances of prostitution' to Luna would require him to actually research them first and that seemed like time that he was never going to get back, even if it only took thirty minutes or so.
"We're done here for the moment. I'll summon you if I need anything more." He said, essentially finishing the conversation.
"When and how will I get my next dose of the Elixir?" Adrastia asked as they all stood up.
Harry cast a quick summoning spell at a shelf, seding a carved wooden box flying into his hands.
"Here." He said, handing it to her.
Adrastia opened the box eagerly and smiled gleefully at the half dozen vials contained within.
"Pay attention to your body. When a persistent lethargy sets in and your skin starts to feel achy, that means that the Elixir is wearing off and you should take another dose. You can take two doses at once with no issues, so there's no need to worry about taking them too close together, but I wouldn't advise taking three at once and absolutely do not take four."
Adrastia didn't take her eyes off the vials the whole time he was talking, apparently mesmerised. Harry was almost wondering if he was going to have to repeat himself when she finally looked up at him.
"Thank you." She said with more sincerity than he'd ever seen from her.
Harry didn't really know how to respond to that, so he elected to just push through. "The box is spelled to only open for you and I trust that I don't need to warn you not to share this with anyone?"
The deadpan look this got him somehow felt extremely funny.
XXXXX
Once Adrastia was gone, little box of immortality in hand, Fleur turned towards Harry with a questioning face.
"What are we going to do about this vampire problem?" She asked.
"For the moment, nothing." Harry replied with a frown. "We'll make use of the information of course, but I'd really rather not get tangled up in some convoluted plot with the noseless nuisance still at large."
"But Adrastia said we're already tangled up in it." Luna pointed out.
"We can start cutting strings later. First, there's hunting to be done."
XXXXX
The hunting didn't begin immediately. Harry wasn't willing to take Bjomolf's information at face value, so he had to verify it first. Even without that, preparations had to be made in order to maximize its use. That took about a week, after which the hunting began.
Voldemort didn't notice anything at first. Not only was he busy keeping a low profile and putting his chosen Death Eaters through hellish training, but he was also not approptiately paranoid even in the face of the setbacks and defeats he had suffered. Arrogance remained his worst blind spot.
Still, it was only a matter of time before he learned that many of his unmarked Death Eaters had vanished mysteriously. These had been all across Europe and their job had been to simply go about their lives and quietly talk like-minded individuals into joining up as well with promises of wealth and power.
Voldemort had been certain that, since they weren't really doing anything noteworthy, they were undetectable. Being unpleasantly surprised yet again did his temper no favors. He relocated those that hadn't been snatched in a hurry and seethed, plotting retribution against his enemy for daring to upset him again. He didn't think of it in those terms, but that was what it boiled down to. It wasn't really a war to seize political power anymore, having since mutated into a personal vendetta.
The problem remained the same as it had always been. How to strike back? Harry lived on a heavily fortified island and had long since moved any vulnerable associations and their families there.
Oh, there were a few places that he could strike at, such as the Potter Communications building in Diagon Alley and the much smaller clothing store he was known to endorse and partially own, but those were not enough to satisfy his need for revenge. There were other Potter Communications stores and offices all over magical enclaves all over the world, but destroying those wouldn't be enough either. It wouldn't be personal.
Inspiration struck him when one Death Eater, eager to to anything at all that would cool the Dark Lord's rage by even a single degree, related a rumor he'd heard that Ginny Weasley had rekindled her friendship and more with Harry Potter.
The rumor was a load of hippogriff shit, as rumors tended to be. After failing to convince her daughter to come back home, Molly Weasley had complained loudly and vocally about it to anyone that would listen, including her closest magical neighbours, the Diggorys.
Mrs. Diggory had listened to Molly with commiseration, nodding at all the right places, saying all the right things and agreeing that associating with a dangerous philanderer like Harry Potter wasn't something that a young lady like Ginny should be doing.
It should be noted at this point that the world's magical cultures in general and that of the British Isles in particular were not exactly homogenous.
Muggleborns weren't truly despised until recently, as a direct result of the modern values of equality for all that had been conceived in the mundane world over the past century or so and which the purebloods felt so threatened by. In all the previous eras, both magical and mundane people shared a belief in class distinction and were able to mostly get along even if they didn't always agree about who belonged in which social class.
With the social hierarchy being more or less stable until recently, Magical Britain's culture ran the gamut from early medieval to modern as new blood was introduced in a steady trickle and each new era saw new families establish themselves in the community. These families usually lost touch with the mundane world from which they'd come within a generation and suffered from the frozen-in-amber effect that the magical world was so good at producing.
The cultural stasis wasn't perfect of course. The human inclination to fit in came into play and everyone made an automatic subconscious effort prevent their society from looking completely fractured and there was some unavoidable bleed through, especially within the halls of Hogwarts, but by and large Magical Britain was a mish-mash of culture bubbles from various eras.
The Weasleys and Prewetts were a bit of an exception to the norm. Although both old families, they lacked the wealth to really be part of the social elite that their long lineage should have put them in, so they avoided the hidebound traditionalism that kept the attitudes of their fellow purebloods stagnant. Because of this, Molly most closely resembled a mid 20th century housewife, tempered by the fact that she was a more forceful personality and a more powerful witch than her husband.
Conversely, the Diggorys were not a terribly old family. Just old enough that almost nobody still living recalled them having any non-magical relatives and old enough that they'd had no contact with the mundane world in just over a hundred and fifty years.
Mrs. Diggory wouldn't have quite fit into Victorian era England, but it would be close. Because of this, she had certain....views on propriety and what happened when a young woman went to stay with a known womaniser all by herself. Her perceptions twisted Molly's tale of woe into something rather more scandalous when she eventually retold it.
Of course, the person she told it to added another twist or two and within weeks it was a juicy open secret in Magical Britain that Ginny Weasley was Harry Potter's latest harem girl. They had been friends once, didn't you know?
The gossip columnists at Teen Witch Weekly caught wind of it as well. 'Didn't you used to date Ron Weasley?' someone asked the newly-employed Lavender Brown, who confirmed it. In the eyes of gossipmongers, this was nearly as good as being in the bedroom while Ginny was being ravaged by the insatiable dark lusts of Harry Potter, as one particularly dramatic idiot put it, so she was assigned to write the article. Lavender was ecstatic because it would give her huge exposure and be a great springboard for her career, so she really gave it her all, putting enough speculation and sensationalism into it to impress even Rita Skeeter. As soon as it was published, the story gained legitimacy in the eyes of the sheep, which was why that one Death Eater felt it was worth risking the Dark Lord's wrath by relating it to him.
So, yeah. Hippogriff shit. Nonetheless, Voldemort seized upon it with utter glee.
XXXXX
October 6th, 2018.
When Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived on Spellhaven in his official capacity as an Auror, Harry immediately knew that it was going to be bad news. Police, military or government officials never came in person to deliver good news.
When he asked to talk to Ginny, the possibilities were narrowed down even further. Obviously, something had happened to the other Weasleys and that something probably called itself Voldemort. After that, it was fairly easy to guess at the approximate chain of events that led to Shacklebolt being present on Spellhaven.
This annoyed Harry quite a bit. He hadn't spared much thought for Ginny and honestly barely even saw her these days, which is why it hadn't occured to him that Voldemort might target her family. Some of that annoyance was aimed at Ginny for not considering the possibility herself.
When Ginny arrived, Shacklebolt proceeded to tell her pretty much exactly what Harry had already guessed at. Charlie Weasley had gone back to his job in Romania some time ago and Bill had been working late at Gringotts when the attack happened, so they were still safe, but the others were gone.
Arthur, Molly and Ron had been at the Burrow, which was now a burned out husk with the Dark Mark floating over it.
Percy had seemingly been snatched right on the doorstep of his modest home. There were no signs of a struggle except for some faded spell traces.
The twins had put up more of a fight, as their joke shop and upstairs appartment in Diagon Alley was a veritable warzone, but they had been taken nonetheless. Their long term girlfriends were out of the country on a quidditch tour with the Holyhead Harpies. Lucky them.
Cue the hysterics and shortly after that, Ginny turning to him with desperate eyes and asking him to save her family.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. Rescue missions. He hated rescue missions. He especially hated rescue missions that were obvious traps.
"Harry, please! You have to help!" Ginny wailed desperately when he didn't reply to her first entreaty.
No, he really didn't have to, in the strictest sense of the word. In fact, Ginny insisting that he simply had to made him want to not help simply to demonstrate that fact. Kind of petty, but....eh.
Unfortunately, Luna was also giving him a look that said she had absolute faith in him and Dora was right next to her with her own 'I-know-you-don't-want-to-but-do-it-for-me' look. Adrastia had been so right, women were manipulative by nature. Fleur was the only one that didn't seem to care one way or another.
"Fine, we'll help." He muttered. What a waste of a perfectly good Saturday, maybe even the whole weekend. Ginny's obvious relief was no compensation, but the proud smiles on Luna and Dora's faces did at least blunt his irritation.
"Both Madam Bones and Dumbledore have asked me to offer you whatever help you need." Shacklebolt added.
Harry responded to that with a non-descript grunt of acknowledgement, privately thinking of how ridiculous it was that a senior Auror thought it was normal to be taking orders from two leaders at the same time. Dumbledore was still making a mess of Britain's magical government simply by virtue of existing.
"So, now what?" Ginny asked shakily, wiping her eyes with a sleeve.
"Now we wait for the noseless wonder to throw out the bait."
"You think this is a trap of some kind?" Shacklebolt asked in surprise.
"Duh." Harry rolled his eyes. "You think it's concidental that the Weasleys were targeted so soon after Ginny showed up in Spellhaven?"
"That's a good point." Shacklebolt nodded, somehow both grimly and awkwardly. "I heard that Ms. Weasley had joined your...err....arrangement."
Ah, so that's what did it. Harry mused to himself while Ginny erupted into denials, Luna helpfully pointed out that he'd only just acquired his latest mistress a couple of weeks ago and wasn't looking for any more at present and the other two just looked on in amusement as the chaos unfolded.
None of them really followed the news back in Britain except perhaps Narcissa, but even that was sporadic. A dumb rumor like this might not have reached them for a long time, if ever. That meant that Voldemort either still had some sources there or one of his remaining minions kept up on the gossip.
Oh, it seems that Ginny had already known about these rumors due to some teasing by the twins. That she hadn't considered the repercussions said quite a lot about her lack of foresight.
Harry started nibbling on Fleur's earlobe. It was a more interesting thing to do than discussing what kind of dumb shit the British magical population had invented about them this time.
"But we can't just wait for You-Know-Who to contact us!" Ginny's insistent voice cut through Fleur's purring. Apparently the conversation had swung back to the point while he hadn't been paying attention.
"You say that as if you're going to be part of the action." Harry noted after disengaging from the yummy earlobe, amused by her presumption.
"It's my family that was taken!" Ginny retorted angrily.
"So?"
"What Harry means to say is that you aren't ready to fight the Death Eaters." Dora interjected diplomatically.
"I want to help!" The redhead insisted stubbornly.
"Then stay out of the way." Harry spoke up before Dora could pussyfoot around again. Being nice was fine and all, but it was best to crush any stupid notions as soon as possible.
"Just leave it to us, Ginny." Luna chimed in and rubbed her friend's back.
Ginny looked like she was ready to start crying again out of sheer frustration. Weak people problems.
A pale-faced Narcissa suddenly burst into the room, holding a communication mirror as if it would bite her.
"Harry." She said, holding the mirror out to him and swallowing fearfully. "It's V-Voldemort."
"That was strangely well-timed." Harry commented and took the mirror, looking at the pasty noseless face of his enemy. "Tom, I see you've been modernising. Would you mind filling out a customer satisfaction survey to give a Dark Lord's perspective on my merchandise?"
"Potter." Voldemort hissed, red eyes nearly glowing with fury and madness. "I'm sure you've heard by now that I have your little blood traitor slut's family."
"Are you still on about that pureblood nonsense?" Harry sighed. "Just give it up already, by this point pretty much everyone knows you don't really give a fuck about that."
"Insolent boy!" Voldemort spat. "Maybe this will teach you some respect. Crucio!"
A female scream of agony was heard through the mirror. Harry held back a wince. Molly Weasley was even more unpleasant to the ear when she was being tortured.
"MUM!" Ginny screamed and tried to dive for the mirror, as if that would somehow help. Luna and Dora grabbed her before she got far.
"How is that supposed to teach me anything?" Harry asked in a deadpan. "Have you been drinking snake oil again?"
Voldemort abruptly seemed to come down from his fiery enraged state and entered a more chilly enraged state. "Come to Glastonbury Tor, alone, if you ever want to see the blood traitors again." He hissed softly and cut the connection.
Harry put down the mirror and considered that brief conversation. Voldemort had seemed considerably more unhinged than normal. The light of madness in his eyes was stronger and there had also been a an odd sense of disconnect, as if the noseless one was only hearing him, but not really listening.
"Why Glastonbury Tor?" Dora asked with a frown.
"The same reason as always." Harry groused. "Because he's a fucking drama queen and some random patch of grass just wouldn't do."
"You are not going alone, obviously." Fleur stated rather than asked.
"Obviously." He agreed.
"But he said he'll kill them if you bring anyone with you." Ginny piped up frantically.
Harry barely refrained from giving her the contemptous look that statement deserved. "He's intending to kill them no matter what and walking to my death like a chump isn't going to change that."
XXXXX
"Not good." David shook his head grimly after they explained what was up. "In a normal hostage situation, the other guy always wants something. All Riddle wants is to hurt you and if he can't do it directly then he'll try to do it by proxy. There's not much chance of them getting out of this alive."
"Yeah, I figured." Harry sighed.
"There has to be something we can do." Dora said unhappily, Luna frowning at her elbow.
"Maybe if you convince him that you really don't care about what happens to them and that it isn't worth killing them, but don't get your hopes up. Nothing you've told me about this guy says that he's likely to let people live when he can kill them instead." David shook his head again, not looking any happier than them.
XXXXX
Glastonbury Tor was a cone-shaped hill with a tower built on top of it that had some connection to Arthurian legend, which was probably why Voldemort had picked this spot.
Harry approved of the tower, even if it was a bit underwhelming. Towers were cool and there weren't enough of them in the world.
This particular tower, underwhelmingly named St. Michael's Tower, currently had six redheads tied up in the middle of it.
Harry dismissed the raven that had informed him of this and started walking up the concrete path to the small hill's summit at a leisurely pace. In his mind, he was already picking out the best way to tell Ginny that most of her family was now dead. Should he be as blunt as a hammer or attempt feigning compassion?
It wasn't that he wouldn't try to save them, but like David said, the odds were not good. There were Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey wards in place over the hill and those were probably not the only spells that had been used to prevent an easy rescue. Magic could make things so very complicated if you had a little preparation.
Harry had been careful to prevent this situation from happening with good reason and was actually quite angry with Ginny for cooking it up for him anyway. Did nobody except him think about the consequences of their actions? If this ended in grief as he expected it to, then the little twit deserved it.
And yes, Harry was aware of how hypocritical it was of him to be scowling at people for not thinking of the consequences when his body was littered with the scars of thoughtless action.
It didn't take long to reach the small tower and he got his first look at the captured Weasleys. They were shackled to the floor with transfigured chains and forced into an obviously uncomfortable kneeling position, looking rather worse for the wear. Fred, or possibly Geroge, was even missing an arm. Their eyes lit up with hope at the sight of him, although they still seemed terrified.
"Good day." Harry said cordially, stopping just outside the tower.
"I'm af-f-raid it really h-h-hasn't been, H-Harry old chap." George, or possibly Fred, the one who still had both arms ar any rate, said with badly strained and obviously forced humor. His speech was interrupted by muscle spasms characteristic of prolonged Cruciatus exposure and his voice was hoarse.
"I can see that." Harry nodded. "But I can at least assure you with reasonable certainty that the worst is behind you."
"Oh, but I don't think it is, Harry Potter." A new voice interjected, hissing and malicious.
Voldemort let the Disillusionment Charm fade and stood behind the bound Weasleys, wand in hand and staring at Harry with intent malevolence.
"Why would you not think so?" Harry asked without missing a beat, feigning puzzlement. "They'll either die here or be free. Both option are better than being your 'guests'."
"Don't try to pretend you don't care what happens to them!" The Dark Lord seethed. "You were quick enough to move the families of your other sluts out of my reach,"
"You need to stop getting your information from rumors." Harry stated flatly. "I'm not fucking Ginny Weasley. Nothing about her interests me, not her looks and not her spirit."
"Then why are you here?" Voldemort asked smugly, as if he'd just scored some great victory.
"Because the women I do care about would be disappointed in me if I just shrugged and told you to kill them."
Harry noticed that Voldemort was getting more and more agitated beneath his relatively calm exterior. His aura, on previous ocasions a contained maelstrom of volatile emotions, was now far more chaotic. The fear was more prevalent, the hatred stronger and both were bleeding heavily into the river of calm that denoted pure reasoning. The Dark Lord had always been psychotic and prone to outbursts of sadism, but now he seemed truly insane. The impression that he wasn't really listening was also present again.
"And here you are, alone." Air hissed through Voldemort's nose slits as he gloated, his face stretched into a mad grin. "Come to die. Reveal yourselves, my Death Eaters."
The dozen or so Death Eaters that had been hiding under their own Disillusionment Charms shimmered into visibility, surrounding them.
Harry briefly closed his eyes, calling up the wolf spirit he had mastered what felt like a lifetime ago. He had received a renewed bout of interest in Skinwalking after the 'lesson' with Adrastia. The skill had never been terribly useful in battle for several reasons, chief among them being the unhealthy instinct to always close into melee range and attack with claws or fangs.
But after getting a feel for Adrastia's manipulation of instinct and some time spent experimenting in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, he had learned how to keep the wolf from supplanting the man.
He felt the change come. His teeth sharpened ever so slighty, his muscles rippled under his skin and his fingernails blackened so much that they looked rather embarrasingly goth at first glance in their dark sharpness, until one noticed that they were too thick to be fingernails. The most prominent change were his eyes, however, which now glowed a fierce yellow.
"Was that supposed to be a surprise?" Harry mocked, opening his eyes and baring his teeth aggressively. "Girls, come on out."
Fleur, Luna and Dora came out of their own invisibility, hovering in the air around them outside of Voldemort's sensing range, surrounding the encirclement of Death Eaters in turn.
Voldemort looked slightly taken aback by the change, but rallied quickly. He didn't ask what was going on, either not caring or knowing that he wouldn't get an answer. He focused on something else instead. "You were told to come alone!"
"And you thought I was going to listen?"
"You have just signed these blood traitors' death warrant!"
"Better them than me." Harry shrugged, ignoring the Weasleys' horrified looks.
Voldemort sneered, and Harry's now enhanced vision detected the subtle movements that indicated impending violence even as his Magesight picked up the rising power of a forming spell. A wolf might see a more narrow band of the visible light spectrum than a human, but it was highly optimised towards detecting motion, as befit a predator. A very useful thing in a fight, as was the superior reaction speed that resulted from it.
The Dark Lord threw out a vicious curse and Harry sidestepped it, but couldn't retaliate. Although he wouldn't be terribly broken up about the Weasleys dying even though he did like the twins, he also wasn't willing to carve through them to get at Voldemort.
By the sick glee on his face, Voldemort had been counting on just that, and he continued hurling curses with abandon, safe behind his human shield.
The girls were in a similar bind. Although they had the superior mobility and power, they couldn't fight back too vigorously for fear of harming him or causing too much damage to the hill itself and destabilising the tower.
And the Death Eaters were unusually competent this time around. Not significantly more powerful in any meaningful fashion, but they were working together in distinct units and the spells they were tossing out were no joke. Their auras were also a good deal more twisted than Harry recalled.
Bringing hostages into battle was a new tactic for Voldemort and his minions, but honestly not a surprising one. That being said, it was definitely a problematic one.
Harry was also noticing that Voldemort wasn't using any spells that could be 'bounced' off a shield or parried with his staff. All of his curses had to be either countered, avoided or absorbed, giving him nothing that he could use to redirect at the Death Eaters. And he couldn't take a moment to cast his own spells at the Death Eaters either, as Voldemort was too dangerous an opponent to be ignored for even a moment.
The situation was untenable, so Harry leapt backwards and flew out of effective combat range, the girls following his example soon after. The exchange of spells had lasted less than ten seconds. The four of them now hovered some distance away while the Death Eaters and their master stayed near the tower and their hostages.
"'Lord' Voldemort certainly has fallen low, hiding behind weaklings." Harry mocked, hoping to goad him into doing something dumb to defend his pride.
"And why not? You hide behind your women!" Voldemort glared back. A jumbled mass of emotions radiated from his red eyes, fear, hate and triumph most prominent among them.
Harry narrowed stared back unblinkingly and grasped for a tactic that would remove the captive Weasleys from the battlefield.
The Raven Host and the Aurors were nearby, but bringing more force to bear on the situation wasn't going to help this time.
He had personally found Voldemort's speed advantage to be a little less pronounced this time, but once again, not helpful with the noseless wonder using meat shields.
Realistically the only way to save the Weasleys would be to provoke Voldemort into abandoning his advantage, but that didn't seem to be working.
More ruthless solutions included collapsing the tower and writing the Weasleys off as collateral damage, or simply retreating and abandoning them to their fate. Of the two, burying them under rubble was the less cruel option.
Fucking hell, they couldn't even trap Voldemort and the Death Eaters here. The area was too open to hide a bunch of people putting up a second set of blocking wards over the first and they no doubt had portkeys attuned to their own wards to take them away if things got dicey.
In the privacy of his own mind, Harry once again cursed at Ginny Weasley for not predicting this situation.
"What are we going to do?" Dora asked quietly, no doubt coming to a similar set of conclusions.
"It seems that the great Harry Potter is not interested in saving you." Voldemort's mocking voice sounded before Harry could answer. Although he was ostensibly talking to the Weasleys, the words were obviously not meant for them. "Crucio!"
Harry couldn't tell which one of them was screaming this time, just that it was one of the men.
"Blind them!" He ordered quickly, not wanting any precipitous action on Dora's part.
The girls used their staves to suck in the surrounding sunlight, causing a strange distortion effect around the solar focusing crystals even as they started to glow.
Once they were done, they released the gathered power in a wide beam, not unlike a very powerful searchlight.
The Death Eaters cried out in shock and were forced to close their eyes or have their retinas burned out. The started casting shield charms blindly, expecting further attack.
Voldemort was the only one spared the attack, busy as he was torturing the Weasleys inside St. Michael's Tower, but Harry had a plan for him too. Instead of going after the Death Eaters, he cast a powerful disintegration curse at the tower itself, causing it to rapidly turn to dust.
The Dark Lord responded quickly, casting a transparet shield that blocked out the glare of redirected sunlight.
"Mudslides!" Harry commanded next.
He and Fleur cast a spell to churn up the ground, while Dora and Luna made a high-rise fly-by and conjured a torrent of water over the heads of the enemy.
The tactic would have made every bit of ground except the stone foundations of the tower unsteady and perhaps even carried off some Death Eaters on a ride downhill, had it worked.
Unfortunately the spell to churn up the ground was very easy to block and didn't achieve as much as they might have hoped. The conjured water didn't even achieve that much, as Voldemort used a wide area counterspell to cancel out the conjuration before it could hit the earth.
Harry bared his teeth down at the hill in frustration as Luna and Dora returned. The four of them were mostly safe from return fire at this distance unless they started daydreaming, but the situation still hadn't markedly improved. The Death Eaters were sitting ducks, that was true, but actually shooting them would mean potentially killing the Weasleys as well even without the danger of the tower collapsing on them.
"Stop! One more spell and a blood traitor dies!" Voldemort shouted, pointing his wand at Arthur Weasley's head.
And then there was that, of course.
"And then what, Tom?" Harry asked back. "What is the actual fucking point of this confrontation anyway? We're not going to let ourselves get killed and I'm not going to trade you back any of your captured minions in return for that bunch of gingers, so what the fuck are we even doing here?"
"The point is for you to SUFFER!" Voldemort roared out in a fury. The crazy in his eyes shone bright.
"Yeah, nice going. You ruined my weekend. The pain is real." Harry retorted in a sarcastic deadpan.
Arthur Weasley's head exploded in a shower of gore as Voldemort's silent, rage-powered curse obliterated it.
There was a moment of shock as everyone processed what had just happened. Harry thought that even Voldemort looked a bit surprised at what he'd done. Then things spiralled out of control.
"ARTHUR!" The newly widowed Molly Weasley wailed in grief.
The twins were too stunned to react, but the other two Weasley boys had always been more mouth than brain.
"Potter, you evil bastard!" Ron shouted, pulling on his restraints.
Had he more time, Harry would have perhaps taken the effort to lecture the idiot on the finer points of placing blame where it belongs and the power dynamics of a hostage situation. Or perhaps not, the youngest Weasley boy had always been as thick as a sack of hammers by all accounts. It was unlikely that he'd listen on a good day, which this was not.
Percy was shouting threats of Ministry retribution. Grief had clrealy driven him to delusion.
Meanwhile, Fleur and Dora gathered sunlight into their staves again, this time unleashing it on the Death Eaters in tightly focused beams that did more than just blind.
The black-robed wizards scattered like mice and mostly managed to avoid the deadly attack, but one lost a leg and another was cut into two burning halves.
Luna cast a transfiguration to enclose the surviving Weasleys in a stone dome, but Voldemort wasn't having it. He rose into the air and fired a powerful blasting curse directly at them.
Harry took the opportunity to nail the Dark Lord with a bolt of lightning.
Voldemort screamed in pain as his smoking body was sent flying out of the air, but he disappeared in a portkey transportation before he hit the ground. The Death Eaters went with him. Well, most of them at any rate. The two that Fleur and Dora had hit left some pieces behind.
Despite this being his first solid hit on the mad fucker, none of them were feeling in a celebratory mood with Weasley chunks scattered over half the damn hill.
What a mess. Harry thought sourly as the Aurors closed in, already demanding explanations.
The worst part for him was that this entire incident had been completely and utterly pointless. Voldemort had abducted and now killed the Weasleys out of pure spite more than any hope that it would actually achieve anything. Negotiation had been impossible from the start, leaving only convincing him that he didn't care what happened to them one way or the other as an option for saving them.
And now he got to tell an over-emotional girl that six of her family members were dead. Joy.
XXXXX
Narcissa had let Bill and Charlie join their sister on Spellhaven while the battle was going on so that Ginny would have her older brothers to rely on for support.
Informing the three of what had happened didn't go well, as expected. While Bill and Charlie were hit hard by the news, they had nothing on Ginny's reaction.
The redhead sobbed and wailed hysterically, then she started angrily blaming Harry for failing to save them, then she went back to crying in Bill's arms.
Harry managed to restrain the urge to snap at her.
Bill and Charlie eventually led her away, quietly telling Harry and the girls that they didn't blame them for failing to save their parents and siblings.
Harry was just glad that he wouldn't have a hysterical girl in anywhere near his life. Sensitivity was not his strong suit, especially when there was no sex involved.
XXXXX
The aftermath of the latest battle against Voldemort was significantly easier to deal with than the ones before. Glastonbury Tor has been cleaned of blood and battle damage easily enough, but the tower was a lost cause, much to the baffked horror of England's historians and culture preservation people.
Ownership of the twins' joke shop had defaulted to him instead of the surviving Weasleys due to the weird ways that corporate laws were structured in Magical Britain. No doubt another mechanic to keep wealth in the hands of the wealthy. In any case, Harry didn't need any prodding to make an offer to Bill Weasley about selling the business and giving him all the profits, seeing as he had no interest in actually running a joke shop. It had been quite successful with Fred and George at the helm, but entirely useless for someone with little interest in pranking and he didn't need the extra money anyway, so being generous came easy for a change.
That was really all the aftermath there was and things settled back down in less than a week.
Harry continued to scour Europe for Death Eaters. He employed the Palantíri, his ravens, local news sources and Adrastia's own forming network. There wasn't terribly much luck, but he did manage to pick up a few.
The most annoying bit was when another mysterious hint made its way into his hands, this time through a completely harmless letter written in a combination of regular and vanishing ink. Most of the words disappeared while Penny was reading it, leaving behind only a location.
Harry didn't appreciate the unsubtle reminder of vampire interest. He still didn't really want to deal with Bjomolf and decided to once again put off doing so.
XXXXX
Voldemort's aftermath was substantially more painful, both for him and his minions.
The lighting bolt he'd been hit with had hurt and left him with lichtenberg scars all over his left flank, but done no permanent damage. He was back in top form within three days and more pissed off than ever. He'd not only failed to do any harm to his enemy, but he'd also been marked.
And he couldn't even get rid of the scarring! He was a very good potioneer, but healing potions never came out right for him. It had never been an issue since that was what he had Snape for, but Snape was gone now.
The following weeks, his temper soured further as several more of his supposedly undercover Death Eaters vanished. His plans of revenge got increasingly more extreme as his anger grew and restraint evaporated.
Still, Voldemort had learned something from that fight nonetheless and his eyes often gleamed with ancitipatory malice while he was torturing/teaching his most competent minions for the new plan he had concocted.
XXXXX
December 31st, 2018.
"He's doing WHAT?" Harry roared at the mirror in disbelief.
The barely restrained panic on Amelia Bones' face had nothing to do with his shouting. "He's attacking muggle London with giants and inferi. We need you there NOW!"
The connection cut off and Harry just stood there for a long, utterly baffled moment. What the shit was Voldemort thinking?! Mounting what sounded like a full scale assault on the non-magical parts of London? On New Years Eve of all days? Seriously, what the actual fuck?