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A Bend in Time

Before there ever was a boy that ever lived in a cupboard on Four Privet Drive, there was a similar boy in a far worse home that lived on Spinner’s End. We all know the tale of that abused boy who grew up to become a bitter spy. But not all tales end the same for in the many parallel worlds that exist in the universe there are far better endings, and equally as many worse ones. This is a tale of one such condemned universe that for better or for worse chooses to change its own fate at through the sacrifice of the bitter spy. (All rights to the Harry Potter world and characters belong solely to J. K. Rowling. However, I do claim creative fanfiction rights. Please do not post my fanfiction elsewhere without my express permission. This work will also be partially hosted at RoyalRoad, Wattpadd, and Archive.)

EsliEsma · Book&Literature
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1221 Chs

Fiendfyre

At the edge of a thickly forested area, Alphard Black apparated to a secluded location. With a faint smile, he glanced down at the time. Moody and the rest of them should be receiving his message in a few minutes. By the time they received his signal, it would be much too late. But more importantly, they would have what they needed the most an excuse to act.

Clutching his wand firmly in hand, Alphard puts his pocket watch away. He felt terribly afraid to be perfectly honest. He was a Slytherin and not a brave Gryffindor willingly running to his demise. But still, he was dying. And a Slytherin would never let a perfectly good opportunity go to waste.

Armoring himself with that knowledge, Alphard carefully made his way forward. The grounds were snow-covered and thankfully there was already a beaten-trodden path. The walk was quite brisk and cold as he felt the cold wind slashing at his face and clothes. His cloak flapped loudly behind him as he braved forward.

At the edge of the tree line, Alphard paused to glance around. As promised by Crow, he found that there were no sentries nor guards posted on the grounds. And even Riddle enjoyed a celebration every now and again. Thankfully, Riddle is arrogant enough to remove the sentries. A lapse on Riddle's part, but a valuable opportunity for Alphard.

Standing before the old manor, Alphard smiled as he made his way midway in front of the manor and stopped. He had always been at the top of class in Charms. And though the curse he had to do had nothing to do with the class, it did it in its own way. For there was one specific branch of magic that he had never been surpassed in and that was fire-related spells.

Pointing his wand at the old Carrow manor, Alphard roars, "Fiendfyre!" The flames that erupted from the were alive, sentient, intent upon killing any living thing. With a wave of his wand, the fire mutated, forming a gigantic pack of fiery, snarling beasts. Flaming serpents, chimeras, and dragons rose and fell again. Shrieking they began to feed as their fanged mouths and clawed feet tore into the manor.

Some of the creatures tried to attack their creator, but Alphard had never been one to be afraid of fire. Shrieking in fury, they returned to attack and demolish the manner. The smarter flamed creatures burst in finally through the windows and doors.

The creatures shrieked in hunger as they began to devour anything in sight. The foolish Death Eaters near the doors and windows in the manor and the main hall began to scream as they were eaten, burned alive by the magical flames. The more intelligent Death Eaters drew their wands together and without hesitation killed the Carrow siblings.

The instant the manor wards fell, the Death Eaters began to safely apparate away. The Dark Lord was furious, but he had no choice but to leave as well. He was no match for the fiery flames that had a life of their own.

Down in the dungeons, the pale, skeleton-like transformed corpses of the Inferi begin to wither and shriek as they were consumed by the magical living flames. With a great blast, the last of foundations were eaten away causing the manor to collapse onto itself sending a fury of snow forward. The snow instantly melted under the twining fiery creatures in the air that was ever so and still desperately starving.

Coughing, Alphard almost kneeled over from the force of the cough, while a trail of red dripped down the side of his mouth and onto the pristine snow on the frozen ground. Not bothering to wipe the blood off his chin, he began to wave his wand as he slowly put out the flames one by one. The creatures shrieked and roared attempting to kill their caster in order to consume more.

But Alphard was not afraid of the flames as little by little he corralled the flames, before finally casting the charm to extinguish them. With one final roar, the flames sputtered in the night, before completely going out. The darkness was utterly consuming if not for the pale moonlight and the reflected glow off of the snow.

Alphard weakly fell onto his knees onto the muddy earth as great soul-wracking coughs, he coughed and coughed for what seemed like forever as splashes of blood fell to the ground. Gasping he almost knelled over, but he dizzily arose as he held his wand in his hand at hearing the crunching footsteps.

Quickly Alphard points his wand at the sky and gasps, "Morsmorde!" A gaping skeleton appeared screaming as a snake emerged from its mouth. The deed was done and now everything would be connected once more.

A masked figure halts in the shadows in the tree line. Despite the shadows, the moonlight reflects off a pale, white stone mask of Zeus. The eyeholes were gaping pools of darkness as the figure said, "I must say, congratulations, Mr. Black. You have garnered my personal attention. You have no idea how many centuries it's been since I have been truly infuriated. It's a rather rare accomplishment and something to be highly proud of."

The masked figure took a step forward holding a wand in hand. "Though I must admit I've been rather annoyed as of late, but you are not to blame for that, Mr. Black. It's the Prince's. I thought for sure I'd killed the last of the founder's descendants as well as that of Merlin and the Percussors. And yet low and behold I just had to get the one single family where not one, but five of the wretched bloodlines of my enemies still live on.

But I digress, I am rambling, it is enough to know that they will be taken hand and destroyed. Can't have any more children with their troublesome bloodlines popping up, now, can I?"

"Should I refer to you as Gamp, Burke, or Shafiq?" Alphard boldly spat back.

The very air trembles with danger and bloodthirst as the masked man icily says, "My, my aren't you just full of surprises, Alphard Black? But then again, you were the Keeper of the Hall of Prophecy."

Alphard doesn't react as he hoarsely replied, "I was."

"And who have you told, hmm? A friend like the now deceased Auror Saturina Shackleton?" The masked figure said causing Alphard to flinch at the stark knowledge that this man was responsible for the death of his friend. "Or maybe, this time around is it that stern sister of yours?"

"I did not tell anyone," Alphard barked in truth. For it was true, he told no new soul that was not already aware of the truth. It was no lie.

The masked man is still for a moment, before replying, "How surprising that you're telling the truth. I would have surely thought that you would have gone and blabbed again, but it appears you've actually learned your lesson from last time. How very wise of you."

Alphard tried not to shiver at the masked man's words. How did the masked wizard know if he was lying or not? Legilimens must be in close proximity and be staring into one's eyes. But then again, perhaps, this man had transformed the ability into something new and far more powerful. But still, it wasn't perfect, his TRUTH had fooled the man.

"Then I suppose that it is time we clean up this mess," the masked man said as he lifted his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!" Alphard cried out. "The Hydra is confirmed.!" A silver sparrow swiftly vanishes into the night like a shooting star.

With a wild grin, Alphard snaps his own wand as the masked man cried out in fury, "Who did you send that to?" Alphard merely chuckled as the masked man hissed, "Crucio!"

Alphard fell onto the muddy grounds withering in pain. The torture seemed to go on for hours but was only mere minutes. Gasping finally, Alphard ceased to move as the masked man roared again, "Who did you send the message to?"

"Too late," Alphard croaked with a bloody smile as the sound of popping can be heard in the forest behind them. "The Aurors are already here."

The masked man is furious and raised his wand to attack, "Avada Kedavra!"

Alphard feels himself falling slowly as a great green light comes toward him. All he can feel is feeling, oh, so very light. The air was warm as he saw how brilliantly the stars shone as if calling him home. And then-.

In the distance, the Aurors spot the green light and rush through the snow with their wands out. The masked figure had long since apparated away before the Aurors even caught a glimpse of him. The Aurors quickly stomp through the snow including Moody, the Prewett Brother, and Clement, and halt upon finding a corpse lying peacefully in the snow.

Alphard Black has a small smile of triumph on his face as he gazes into the starry night. The Prewett brothers let out a soft cry as Moody shakes in pure anger. Scrimgeour awkwardly pats Moody on his shoulder as Clements kneels in the mud to gently close the man's eyes.

Rising to his feet, Auror Clements sternly says, "Inform the minister that we found the hideout of the dark wizards. Our informant, Alphard Black was killed in the line of duty. Check the manor from top to bottom, I want to find out everything!"

The Aurors rush off leaving only Percius Clements to remain behind at the side of his brave friend. The Head of the Department, Bob Ogden would certainly yell at Clements for having kept the identity of their informant a secret. A decision that Percius now regretted and did not at the same time. His friend was dead, but come morning the whole wizarding world would see Alphard Black as more than just a wizard, but a hero.

"And how can man die better: than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods." - Lord Macaulay

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