The Duel with Rosier

I kept ruminating over my plan for the Black family. The easiest course would have been to write to Walburga and ask for assistance. But after the disownment of Sirius and Andromeda, Orion's death and Regulus's disappearance, she locked herself in the manor with the wards set to maximum strength. Most warded homes only allowed owls or Patronuses from authorized senders- otherwise, the Order's headquarters would get regular bulk deliveries of explosives. After the news of Sirius's death, Walburga blocked all contacts with the outside world, even Narcissa's owls. The old matron was probably afraid to hear the news of yet another dead Black. I was beginning to think the Blacks' madness was a part of their family magic…

So, I had to take the long way: if anyone could get through the wards, it would be the only legitimate pureblood male heir. The Lestranges were aware of the plan and added some corrections. Edward offered 19 options for magical marriage with an inaccessible family altar. I was becoming more and more concerned about Tom's ignorance in certain fields of magic. This had to be remedied…

I had big plans for my old horcrux, the Blacks' properties and books. Once Alecto would let me through, it will be the simple matter of spinning a yarn for Walburga. I already had good ideas.

Sirius. There were options. He either served me from the beginning or came to his senses after Hogwarts. He desperately wanted to visit his dear mother but was killed by a vow to "cut all ties with family" Albus forced him to take. Or maybe Albus fed him mind-altering potions ever since Sirius's first day of school, and I saved him?

Regulus. I gave him a very difficult task: dig up secrets of Albus's shady past. It fit seamlessly: he was marked at the early age of 16, while he was still at Hogwarts with access to teachers, rumors, ghosts, Hogsmeade where he could have a beer with Albus's brother… And Regulus found something big. But Albus killed him. Here is what I found in Kendra Dumbledore's grave:

"I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B."

All I had to do was cut off the top line addressing the Dark Lord. Or leave it and say the Dark Lord in question was Albus. So many possibilities…

But all that was far from urgent. One or two months to prepare for the wedding, another nine for the baby. Tomorrow I needed to showcase a spectacular battle.

I watched fights involving Rosier in my improvised pensieve until it was time to get up. The day I prepared so much for had finally come.

Memories promised he was no match one-on-one. But I would much rather be a live paranoid prepper than a dead Dark Lord.

Even though Rosier was a highly skilled Dark wizard, I could easily kill him: I had a four-fold advantage in energy and was a master of all types of battle and Dark magic (not backed by diplomas, but killing the masters who taught you made you one automatically). Plus many deadly moves from other fields. Look at transfiguring guts into bugs alone! Or transfiguring half of the body into mud. Or funneled microwave and gamma-radiation. Whatever the field, Riddle excelled beyond all expectations in everything murder-related.

The issue was that I had to avoid using most of the Lord's abilities and could not kill or even main my opponent, whereas Rosier had no limitations and explicitly wanted to kill me.

I will already be full of potions and artifacts decreasing and concealing my power. My newly developed combat household charms were only great for weaker opponents and stealth operations. Healing magic in battle? Still in early stages. Explosive runes? Forbidden by rules, and I would need a sack full for Rosier- the spectators could not miss that. A loophole in the rules allowed me to bring some interesting plant seeds, but they were far from pocket super weapons. We ageeed that Snape will confiscate them during search…

Before leaving, I needed to temporarily hide something. I embedded a small metal safe the Lestranges gifted me into the wall. Now to charm it… One hour and half of my reserve later, I had a safe that could only be opened with my blood and a password of random letters and numbers. It didn't turn out very well - not even an artifact, just a warded object with at most average security, but it should last a couple of years. Since my old horcruxes could not help me be reborn, there was no harm in carrying them on my person. I was not afraid they might get destroyed during the duel, but they would be hard to conceal. My treasures will have to stay home for a day, in a warded safe under Fidelius.

After drinking a cocktail of potions reducing my abilities followed by polyjuice, I went to the Lestranges'. Rodolphus met me at the workshop, where we set up confidentiality charms and began my preparations. First I had my teeth drilled and filled with tiny vials of polyjuice and polyjuice antidote. Then we once again explained the house elf his task. I checked the potions one last time and drank them all: Veritaserum antidote, the Liar's Path…

Next came the time for pain relieving charms as we began the unpleasant process of implanting temporary artifacts into my body. It felt beyond stupid to suppress my magic before battle, but I had no other choice to pass the inspection and produce consistently weak attacks throughout the duel. If I striked like the Lord even once in the heat of the moment, the entire farce would fall apart… Now, sew sacks with Lily's blood into my arms, and more afrtifacts…

Two hours flew by. We walked out of the manor towards the rink. So far, only the Lestranges were present, performing last minute diagnostics. The rink was an empty quidditch-sized field surrounded with rune-covered curbstones. I noticed the runes drawn with blood: the eldest Lestrange heeded my advice.

Only Rodolphus and Severus knew of the fraud. It was amusing to see the Lestranges treat me with carefully guarded neutrality. Bellatrix felt especially odd: instead of the usual elation and boundless adoration, she radiated distinctly negative emotions. I was tempted to check her mind, but the risk of getting busted over nothing was too great.

I waited and watched the audience gather at the stands. Thirty minutes before the start, the entire Inner Circle had arrived.

The seconds exchanged customary remarks and gave us the last opportunity to reconcile peacefully. Rosier and I both said no. They proceeded to recite the rules: no Avadas, no Fiendfyre; the last one left alive or able to fight wins; the duelists may surrender at any point, and the seconds may stop the fight at their discretion; the side that stops the duel loses. These rules were antiquated, dating back before the Ministry's ban of High Dark magic in duels. Traditional duels more often than not ended with one side's death.

I coordinated with Severus and Rodolphus on gestures and spells that will signal them to stop the fight. It was a very convenient option: Snape raises his hand, and Rosier loses. But it went against my agenda. I did not need a conflict between Snape and Rosier, I needed a conflict between the radicals and the Lord's student. The girl must prove herself by winning. Then, even the dumbest servants would not want to plot against the Lord since the next strongest candidate would be much worse. And the Lord will graciously save everyone from petty tyrants -the radicals and the girl provoking them. Hopefully, this would also teach the rest of the Death Eaters the value of cooperation. At least amongst each other.

While the seconds were announcing the methods they will be using to inspect us, I was examining Rosier. He appeared unnaturally calm. I saw nothing under his shields, but using wandless scanning charms could be construed as a premature attack.

The seconds began checking us.

Rosier took off his defenses. He looked squeaky clean: no artifacts, no unusual aura, nothing. He either did not prepare any surprises or hid them very well. And I did not believe the former.

Snape tested him first. A barrage of charms. Revealing, dispelling, visualization of magical potential, magical signature and on and on… Then Rodolphus conducted his own tests with the same results. Next, Rosier took Veritaserum.

"Is your name Sebastian Rosier?" asked Snape.

"Yes."

"Are you the Head of the Rosier family?"

"Yes."

"Did you challenge Elena Ivanova to a duel?"

"Yes."

"Do you currently have artifacts on your person?"

"No."

Snape asked and asked… This kind of security measure was highly unusual, but Rosier insisted, wary of fraud. And I agreed in order to prove there was none.

Next, it was Rodolphus's time to ask questions with Snape standing ready to stop Rosier from answering any unsanctioned ones. Rosier gave a blood oath stating he was in fact Sebastian Rosier. And another regular vow. And cast a spell to reveal his magical signature.

My turn finally came. Rosier was no idiot and suspected fraud. Who knew where the girl came from and how valuable she was to the Lord?

My absolute top priority was to not get busted. If I did, I would have nothing left but run to Albus and apply for a cell in Nurmengard. Or call the real Lily-Elena and quickly kill her in an attempt to convince everyone this was a test of vigilance. And kiss goodbye to a spy at Hogwarts. Even losing the duel would not be as bad as being revealed.

I took down my defenses. All of them, except occlumency. Risky… I could be killed. But this was necessary…

In magical sight, my body lit up with multiple artifacts. Everyone's but Rodolphus's faces went slack with shock: to get caught cheating so easily!

"What is the meaning of this? Artifacts are forbidden by the rules," Snape recited his line.

"The rules only forbid combat artifacts and any devices of attacking, defensive or sustaining types. My artifacts do not fall under those categories, and I will not take them off."

"And what is it that you do not want to part with so badly?"

"Widow's Heart, Dark Fertility and several more. Some are family secrets I am prevented from revealing by vows. None of them can aid me in battle. I will certify under Veritaserum and vows."

Everything was simple. I had loads of artifacts. For example, magical shackles and an empty defective accumulator stone draining my energy. The audience's scanning could detect the artifacts but not their types. Snape checked and found non-existent artifacts instead.

The Death Eaters stared, re-evaluating Elena… Most of the artifacts Snape found were for very narrow purposes of beauty and female reproductive support. Nobody was against it, but killing five muggles for self-maintaining makeup was… wasteful. Same as using Widow's Heart- created with a freshly killed male wizard to guarantee birthing all male children while the artifact was worn. And Dark Fertility used human sacrifice to ensure physical beauty of the future children. Now no none would say Elena loved muggles or cared about their well-being. And no one would demand her to take them off since they had to be worn continuously for full effect.

Next, I painlessly vowed that I had no artifacts banned by the rules. All the antidotes I drank allowed me to slightly misinterpret the quantity and some of the artifact names. Pity the potions only worked on sloppily applied vows…

When Snape checked me for potions, I once again glowed like a Christmas tree. How else was I supposed to reduce my magic reserves and replenishment?

"And I assume all your potions are also non-combat?" Snape asked mockingly.

"Yes. Mostly cosmetic. But I must drink them continuously to get the effects."

"I will be the judge of that. Then you will confirm under Veritaserum and vows."

And I did. Some of my words were true, some "misspoken" with the help of potions and the seconds' aid. Snape confiscated my plant seeds. Rodolphus and I weakly protested.

Next came the hardest part: vowing on blood. I cut my arm straight into a sack of Lily's blood. Vowing with someone else's blood did not work, but Snape diligently pretended the vow took.

Another series of vows. I vowed I was Elena Ivanova. Actually, this one was supposed to kill me if it weren't for potions and Snape's botched work. So I got away with pain I took care not to show. Nothing like the Cruciatus, it would stop in a few minutes. The vow readily accepted that I never attended Hogwarts and didn't know Rosier prior to last month. But at the phrase "I vow I am not Lord Voldemort," I again felt sharp pain that had to be concealed.

For the polyjuice test, I took the antidote while simultaneously applying a quality polymorph charm. The charm needed tremendous concentration to perform without a burst of energy and prevented me from moving- luckily, I had to stand still. With the test done, I got new ampules from the house elf and turned back into Elena.

Finally, I cast spells releasing Elena's signature using her wand and her blood. I didn't implant it into my body for nothing. Casting with someone else's blood felt absolutely awful…

That was it, the narrowest moment was over. I began reapplying my defenses very slowly, waiting for the pain to go away. In 30 minutes, I was surrounded by a weaker copy of the Lord's shields. The time was up.

The way Rosier acted set me on edge. He either managed to plant something on me or sneak in something highly lethal. I cast a wandless diagnostics on myself. Nothing.

"Lord Lestrange, I do not doubt your qualifications, but I must request you to strengthen the ward. I think several wizards in runic circles will suffice."

"The ward was raised on blood runes. No one but me can interact, fuel or lower it. The time for preparations is over, please take your position in the rink."

Well then, stalling for self-diagnostics did not work.

We walked into the rink and stood about a hundred yards apart, both under acceleration charms and multitudes of shields. A transparent wall separated us during the countdown from ten. What should I expect from him? A lot of Crucios, Dark and blood magic, Antipatronus, and more than a couple underhanded stunts: Snape already "planted" potion fumes on me during the inspection.

What did he expect from me? Blood and Dark magic. One or more supercharged hits. If he was waiting on it, then he must not get it.

The most logical tactic was to simply cruciate him: the curse would ignore all shields, and Snape will stop the duel. Getting hit with a Crucio in one-on-one fight guaranteed defeat: not many could remain conscious, and no one could continue fighting under its effects.

But in my case, it was not advisable. Since I had no idea what Elena would need to show at future clashes, it would be best to stick to simpler and weaker spells. Hopefully, I could wear Rosier down. Otherwise, the plan was to display increasingly advanced blood magic, up to mastery. The girl could not be a master in more than one field, so if blood proved insufficient, I should actively use runes. Aside from defenses, rituals and artifacts, runes could also be used in battle, though very few studied them to that level. It required preternatural willpower and knowledge of interplanar geomertry to visualize a spell in runes and feed them energy in precise combinations…

I had no more time to think as the countdown reached zero, and the divider between us disappeared.

I opened the fight with a Crucio accompanied by wandless area fire and fish gutting charms, then immediately flew up in a jet of smoke.

Rosier also began with the Cruciatus, followed with a wandless Ray of Dust and took off after me.

I conjured little metal balls and, accelerating them to the speed of sound, sent them at him from all sides. His shields held them off.

I dodged another Cruciatus and a flesh Abruptio, replying with two fireballs and a wandless meat mincing charm. He partially shielded, partially dodged.

In response, I faced a rather powerful Night's Shadow, which I blocked with Carpus Bonum all the while examining my opponent in magical sight. But the haze around him blurred all his shields into one, making them unidentifiable.

I cast a chain of revealing and dispelling charms at him. He blocked them all and sent a shield penetrator into my Carpus Bonum, followed by some self-guiding black sphere.

I dodged the Crucios, deflected the sphere, and threw a spear of fire back at him, adding a steam-cooking charm. Everything got neutralized by his shields. If only I didn't have to hold back and conform to Elena's image… But masquerade was everything.

Next to me appeared a black amoeba the size of a truck; it tried to swallow me and slow me down. Only one spell, and the Black Blot fell to the ground and melted like a slab of inky ice.

I alternated between spears of fire and ice, then topped them off with a tornado of blades. He parried most and took the rest onto the shields.

I suddenly found myself in a Kissel: a space filled with viscous matter hindering movement of everyone but the caster. Dispelling it wandlessly would reveal too much power, and my wand was busy deflecting assorted pain curses. So I was temporarily done flying. I landed with Arresto Momentum and continued the fight on the ground.

Rosier inmediaty tried to pierce me with transfigured spears rising from the ground, but my shields easily held them off. A rational move: many novices forgot to shield on the side of solid surfaces.

I conjured Firebirds, which essentially worked like self-guiding missiles. Rosier met them with a specialized fire shield and used something I did not know to neutralize the blast wave.

Not to be outdone, he tried to drown me by turning the ground under me into a bog. I could not fly, but basic self-levitation allowed me to simply walk over the viscid surface. While I was busy canceling his Kissel in the air, my opponent hit me with a sharp stalagmite raised from the ground. My shields held, but the laws of physics still applied - I flew up like a kicked ball and turned into smoke.

Our quidditch match from hell continued in the same vein for almost ten minutes. Even though I played Elena and avoided displaying too much experience, I defended better than Rosier. I did not hit too strong and carefully my chose Dark magic attacks, so he held the offensive advantage.

I tried to bypass his occlumency and outside mental shields, but it was futile during battle. Misleading him with conjured illusions did not work either, as if he could smell them.

For the spectators, this looked like his superior attacks were nullified by my strong defenses, and my weaker hits could not reach him. Why was Elena not attacking and defending with Dark magic at the same time? Lack of experience, of course!

Paradoxically, this situation satisfied both sides. I was counting on Rosier to run out of juice before me. Rosier thought that the inexperienced girl will sooner or later make a fatal mistake. And he must have been also counting on Snape's potions.

Snape planted three on me. The first had to sabotage a couple of my spells at the beginning of the duel. The second should have given me a heart attack several minutes into intense spell casting. The third was meant to boil my blood after approximately ten minutes of increased heart rate: the girl tried to fuel a spell with her blood before letting it out of the body, so much for claiming to be a blood specialist.

Of course, none of them worked.

What really concerned me was Rosier's spell power increasing by the minute. Every wizard had an optimal balance of magical cost-output they usually followed. He was not an imbecile to think he could defeat me just by squeezing out a bit more power… I also did not understand why he was so stubbornly intent on knocking me down to the ground.

I threw blades transfigured from air at him. He stopped them with a universal shield and sent back a powerful rotting curse. I had to play along and allow it to eat through some of my shields and destroy the wings of darkness. I landed, and immediately regretted it.

I recognized Graves's Cursed Earth. A slow to apply but very deadly and difficult to notice curse. Rosier must have been stalling to curse the entire arena while I was dashing above the surface. He rightfully expected me to die the instant I touched the ground. The beauty of this curse lied in its ability to effortlessly go through most defenses, even most Dark shields.

To hold off this curse, the Mana Shield would drain magic at a truly enormous rate. With the defenses Lily demonstrated during the meeting, she would have quickly run out of energy and became completely exposed to the curse. But this was no Avada. The Cursed Earth had two specialized defenses, and I could walk on the ground as long as I wanted.

The problem lied in the fact that if Elena knew these charms, her experience could only allow for the simplified versions that constantly drained her magic to maintain themselves. So, she would not last long on the ground. Break the curse? It would mean admitting I was a curse master. Fly up again? Rosier was holding me down with pressurized air. It looked like he was trying to crush me, but all he really needed was to hold me on the ground. Break through? Again, too much power, and it would do nothing to address the actual problem.

I cast an additional charm against pressure, then jabbed my wand at the sky and poured the reserve of an average wizard into blocking all levitation. Rosier looked like he entered an air pocket and tried to straighten himself. When it did not work, he was forced to land. To break my anti-levitation charm, he had to either waste an inane amount of energy (which he won't do because a fight to exhaustion did not serve his interests) or do a lot of wand-waving (which I won't let him).

I attacked him with a quick chain of blasting curses followed by a charm that should break his defenses against the Cursed Earth. He blocked the explosions, and the Graves's curse immediately disappeared. He must have lost the specialized defenses and lifted it himself. Undeterred, he cast another Crucio and continued his relentless attack.

I really doubted he cursed the ground all by himself. Smuggled a single-use artifact? I wonder how?

Our battle continued on the ground. Now Rosier put all bets on speed. He became fast, incredibly fast. I remembered the Inshal potion Snape warned me about: dormant and almost unrecognizable until the flow of magic through the body during casting activated the potion already in the bloodstream.

While some potions produced effects with the magic of their ingredients, other mobilized the body's natural reserves. A specialist of Snape's level could brew doping to temporarily boost power through the roof. The drinker would end up paying for every drop with long bed rest, if he survived at all… But what came later was not important, right?

And so, Rosier was breaking his personal speed records. To keep up with him, I cast an additional acceleration charm on myself, increased my heart rate and strengthened blood vessels with blood magic, then adjusted my defenses to receive more oxygen through the air filtration charms.

We both were going all out with wandless magic and did not eschew High Dark spells except for the truly powerful ones- that is, powerful by the standards of psychopathic Dark wizards.

We continued to bounce around the rink, exchange batteries of colorful rays, maneuver, dodge attacks with jumps and rolls…

One time we clashed head-on. The wands blurred with mad movement speed: at the closest distances, everything was decided by speed, not power. For about 20 seconds we stood face to face attacking and parrying, then split up having to dodge mutual Crucios… Attacks from different angles, every possible trickery- too much to describe.

Eventually, I made a "mistake." While deflecting a chain of curses, I took the last one, Dealos Malis, on a shield that was not fully adapted to it. The shield reverberated under the strain, and I got thrown to the side.

In an attempt to build on his momentary advantage, Rosier performed additional attacks that left him a little open. Instead of attacking him directly, I transfigured muggle explosives under his feet and immediately detonated them. His shields protected him, but a couple of my penetrators successfully cleared the way for a modified stunning charm.

I fully expected the fight to end here. That stunner could have knocked out a hippogriff. But Rosier reacted like someone merely slapped him with an open palm. Only his body got momentarily covered with black smoke…

Continuing the fight, I was trying to work out what he had done to himself. A ritual? I knew several exceedingly wasteful and bloody rituals that granted an hour or two of magic resistance. Not to the level of a troll, but weaker spells would simply bounce off. If only it was possible to always walk around under these rituals… But they demanded too many sacrifices and caused cumulative health damage for few meager hours of results…

How did no one notice it while he was standing without shields? Probably another sacrificial ritual, this time for camouflage… This was exactly why no one liked Dark wizards: huge waste of material for temporary improvements. If during the Middle Ages acquiring material was easy, these days it threatened the Statute. And many modem wizards mellowed out, embracing humanitarian philosophies…

I attacked Rosier with a series of nonverbal bone-breakers. He coldly and efficiently deflected everything and replied with the same, only padding the middle with a modified withering curse that required a specialized shield. Knowing these tricks all too well, I took all the regular curses on a universal shield, then slashed my wand upwards to put up Brock's Mirror. The little nasty thing flew back to its master, followed by my volley of various nonverbal curses at different angles. Rosier deflected everything and several times even guessed the angle of the shield to reflect a curse back at me.

So far, we both did our best to use nonverbal spells, and only rays of light and jerky hand movements told the spectators what was happening.

Rosier's attack style changed again. After failing to defeat me with his casting speed, he decided to use a rather clever tactic. Most spells allowed leeway or had several options of wand movements. And now Rosier was demonstrating an astounding sleight of hand and showmanship. "Unnecessary" gestures of his each spell left magical traces. When these traces accumulated, their pattern lit up in magical sight, forming a flesh dissolving curse that flew right at me. Meanwhile, Rosier never paused his standards attacks.

This combination of spells had been developed by Dolohov. Very effective, despite being slow. Since most of the spells it included were illegal, only "our people" used this trick. The girl never studied under Dolohov, so she should not know the attack or its specialized counter. And any other defense could fail. It was only logical.

The ground around me flared with a runic pattern: neutralization, reflection of magic and others. Rosier's curse got dispersed, though not the way anyone expected.

My opponent glared at me with undiluted hatred. He was beginning to wear out- a natural result of prolonged battle. I had to brace for one extreme final onslaught.

Rosier placed the middle of his wand between three fingers and started to spin it. Although I kept barraging him with spells and trying to set him on fire, I was a bit taken aback. Wands were simply never used this way! And Rosier must know it.

He then clasped his wand properly and conjured an Antipatronus. The black manticore launched at me the moment it formed. It was much larger than in Riddle's memories…

More curses flew at me. Every single spell Rosier cast with his wand came out much stronger than at the beginning of the duel. Very strange, considering that his wandless spells stayed consistent throughout the fight.

I conjured my own Antipatronus. My thestral attacked Rosier's manticore, and I would have bet everything on the manticore. But no matter, slowing it down was good enough for my purposes. I needed to show off my thestral Antipatronus as a reliable identification.

I blocked and parried all of Rosier's attacks. His manticore finished off my thestral and rushed at me. Time for another mistake… I conjured a normal Patronus, slightly weakening my shields. Rosier's wandless air blade was slowed down by my defenses but left a wide, shallow cut on my left arm.

My Patronus (which as I found out was a variety of magical sea serpents) engaged the manticore. I continued blocking Rosier's exponentially increasing in strength curses. He probably used the wand burnout ritual, where every spell took a part of the wand's life with it. How much stronger it made his spells and how much it harmed the wand depended on the ritual specifics. It appeared Rosier went with the maximum setting.

Not stopping to deflect the curses and only dodging Crucios, I began putting up additional shields using my blood and runes. The annoying smirk Rosier sported ever since his Antipatronus defeated mine was rapidly fading.

But his next move caught me off-guard. Rosier's entire left arm below the elbow turned into ash. His wand shot out a wave of raw magic, connecting to my shields with a black stream. From the outside it looked like he sacrificed his arm to fuel a spell.

The problem was its power. This was a Voldemort-level attack: it collapsed most of my shields and launched me ten meters up into the air. I quickly ran through the possibilities of how he could have managed this and saw only one answer: he must have cut off his arm in advance and replaced it with an artificial prosthesis made from treated bones of fresh wizards. And convinced the vows his own arm did not count as an artifact… I wonder, how long will he have to walk around with one arm before growing a new one? Will his phantom pains go away by then?

All that went through my mind while I was flying backwards and restoring my shields. Rosier traced my trajectory and tried to catch me with a Crucio at the bottom of my fall. But this did not agree with my plans.

I wandlessly transfigured a large rock and crashed into it, causing my shields to bounce me to the side. I could have transfigured a solid shield before the Cruciatus, but I suspected he sent a cancellation of transfiguration ahead of it.

Rosier looked haggard. He already used up a fair amount of his blood in place of magical energy. His shields still held, but without magic to fuel them, they would soon begin collapsing under my hits.

He waved his wand to conjure a powerful blood shield. As soon as it was done, his wand burned up in a dark flame, scorching his right arm. Rosier dropped to one knee. The remains of his wand released a cloud of grey smoke that condensed into the shape of a human skull. It floated towards me, luckily not too fast.

I wanted to cuss but had no time. Summoning a couple dozen cubic meters of dirt, I covered myself with a dirt dome and hurriedly drew runes on its inner surface: with my wand, will and blood all at once. Hiding from the audience under magic-concealment charms, I used several Dark magic spells Riddle's memories helpfully provided.

What scared me so much? Rosier released a Spectral Flesh Eater, a curse famous for both power and incredible ability to go through most barriers, magical and physical. But it was in no way a battle curse- it took half a day to apply and required a sacrifice. And Rosier did not have enough energy for it. He somehow managed to stuff it into his wand, which acted as an artifact. The curse was as straight-forward as the name suggested: it moved towards the nearest living being and devoured all the flesh. I didn't really understand why it did not attack Rosier…

Because of its etherealness, this smoky skull could seep through the ground. I could have tried running or burying myself deeper… But this was no Hogwarts: the wards only extended two meters underground, where they hit a monolithic slab of concrete covered in runes. Nowhere to hide and nowhere to run. I couldn't stop the fight. Where was the proof Rosier did not create the curse himself? What if he researched an obscure method to reduce the energy cost? And where was the proof his arm was artificial when everything burned down?

The Flesh Eater went through the charmed dirt and slowed down significantly. Then, it met several blood-based banishment charms and got hit with a Pseudocorpus Fissure and Astral Staff. The skull looked like it got doused in acid and pounded with a hammer but still continued creeping towards me. I hit it with one more Astral Staff and a poltergeist vanquishing charm. Slowly, almost regretfully, the skull began to dissolve into air.

It was well past time to finish this. I conjured a blood ribbon and aimed at the ground. It had many advantages: a self-guiding string of blood that cut up enemies close to the caster and only used the energy contained in the blood string itself. I made the ribbon extremely thin- not a single cell but definitely no more than tenth of a millimeter.

The ribbon striked underground and quickly made its way to Rosier, wrapping around his shields like a crazed bundle of wire trying to overload and crush them. A trick like this would obviously not work at the beginning of the battle, but right now Rosier was hanging on by pure pride.

I demolished the dirt dome that was covering me and cast a Crucio at Rosier. He tried to jump to the side, but his shields were held firmly in place by the blood thread wrapped around them. Taking down shields would only lead to him being minced to pieces. He chose the lesser evil and got hit with the Cruciatus.

I added another acceleration charm to myself and approached my opponent. My plan was simple: hold Rosier under Cruciatus to prevent him from casting while the blood ribbon breaks his shields, which were on their last breath. Ten second later, Rosier was completely unprotected. I almost accidentally cut him up…

I canceled the ribbon and repurposed the leftover blood into an additional blood shield. Still holding him under the Cruciatus, I cast a wandless Stupefy. The spell bounced off his body. Interesting… How could I stun him without accidentally killing him? And why had the seconds not stopped the fight?

One glance around the battlefield answered one of them: my Patronus was still fighting Rosier's manticore, and so far it was a tie. The fight was not stopped because the Antipatronus could still win and kill me. I had no good options of fighting it. Fiendfyre was against the rules. High Dark magic after an exhausting battle would let everyone know I was Voldemort. And I was not skilled in High Light magic… Runes and banishment charms could harm it but were far from an optimal weapon…

A wave of my hand pierced Rosier's palms and feet with transfigured spikes. Another made a shallow cut on my arm and sent my blood into his veins. Rosier tried to struggle even under the Cruciatus but received another burst of pain on top. He was done with magic for today, not even his blood could serve him.

I removed the Cruciatus.

"Call back your Antipatronus," I told him.

"No," he snarled.

"Crucio! Call back the Antipatronus."

"Die, bitch!"

I tried to put him under Imperius- only Mulciber could match mine. But Rosier showed abnormally strong will and did not succumb!

What to do now? Torture could break anyone. But I needed Rosier alive and more or less sane: he oversaw the entire system of processing prisoners and producing undead. All other candidates were much less qualified. And his friends might try to avenge his death.

As a precaution, I threw another Crucio at prostrate Rosier, then shifted my attention to the Antipatronus and set runic traps. The manticore slowed down. I pelted it with a lot of garden-variety banishment charms. Most of them hit the target, covering the manticore's body in welts like it got scalded with boiling water. I attacked it with more banishment charms, this time blood-based. The shadowy creature got even more burns, and its front leg dissolved into nothing. I repeated the previous attack, this time dissolving it all. Not seeing any more opponents, my Patronus vanished into the air.

"I demand to be declared the victor!" I addressed the eldest Lestrange.

"I am ready to continue the fight and forbid my second from declaring my surrender," - said Rosier.

Now, this was very strange. He lost. He had no magical energy. I was preventing him from using blood. One of his arms was missing, the other badly scorched with a strange flame. To top it all, he was crucified on the ground and restrained. What was he counting on?

I was really tempted to use full-strength legilimency. But I'd be found out. Stun him? Normal charms did nothing, and overpowered ones could stop his heart.

"Crucio!" I tried again. "Surrender, Rosier."

"No!"

He was not a masochist. He must endure pain for a reason… If he was not surrendering, then he still thought he could win. How?

"Crucio! You lost. What are you counting on?"

"Then don't be afraid! Why are you hiding from poor defenseless me under all those shields?" he taunted.

A lackluster attempt, but it could have worked with someone stupid and cocky. And considering Rosier's condition, it was the height of logic and reason. But I was not going to lower my guard.

"Crucio! How do you plan to kill me? You can't use magic. Poison fumes? Hidden blades? Muggle explosives in your stomach? It is all futile. I only take off my defenses for bathing and sex. I don't see a bath here, and you are not my type! Crucio!"

I should probably lay off the Crucios or he would lose his mind… I might have overindulged a little.

I had no clue what Rosier used to make himself impervious to stunning charms. The only solution I saw was using a spell where unconsciousness was a side effect rather than the direct goal. And not Dark, so he could recover from it…

The Cruciatus was one of many spells that caused pain without damaging the body. But there were even more ways to cause both damage and pain. I canceled the Crucio and switched to the air press charm. Used normally, it would crush the target into a pancake. But fine-tuned control let concentrate on a small area and, for example, crush his knees one after the other…

Rosier howled and fell unconscious.

Somehow, it triggered an explosion. A very powerful one. A third of my shields shattered immediately. I got picked up like a leaf and slammed into the top of the ward dome over the rink. Now my shield was actively draining my blood. The ward opalesced with multiple colors but survived. I gracefully landed with Arresto Momentum.

"Elena Ivanova wins!" Edward announced with the sound-amplifying charm.

I wished Rosier could be disqualified, but where was the proof he brought in an artifact?

To my astonishment, Rosier survived and lay in the middle of the blast crater, unconscious and completely skinless. He used mass sacrifice to create an explosive artifact. But since smuggling an artifact was problematic, he turned his own skin into one. The explosion happened at some distance outside the body and was directed outward. He should have still died from the blast wave, but the rink ward swallowed everything.

Rosier must have planned this suicide bomb as a final argument. Dark magic, sacrificed his own skin. A family secret. Not an artifact, a spell. His magic was blocked? Well, the idiot girl did not block it well enough. Or it was an effect of a special ritual. And anyway, the victors were always right, and the losers forgotten. And the Lord himself said that if his student lost, he did not want her.

All and all, everything went well. I underestimated Rosier but still successfully proved that it was not the Lord who fought him. Vows, Veritaserum, different Patronus, completely different and weak Antipatronus. At the same time, I showed battle skills close to Dolohov's, paranoia close to Moody's, and sadism close to Bellatrix's. I managed not to demonstrate any powerful Dark curses while showing off what I needed: blood magic and runes. Now I could tell everyone Elena spent all of her time performing experiments, creating new spells and studying day and night. I will have to take a stroll or two under polyjuice, else they might start wondering about the lack of her victims…

Snape cast some healing charms on Rosier's unconscious form, fed him potions, put him on a conjured stretcher and began preparing him for transport home. Mulciber came up to assist him. Everyone else started to leave.

Rosier will be out of commission for at least a month. Turning a part of live body into an artifact was not the brightest idea. He must have prepared to replace his skin and arm and will spend a long time in bed, in extreme pain… Who could I use to replace him while he was getting better?

"Rodolphus, no need to accompany me," I said and walked to the apparition platform, reapplying my shields on the go. I used up a decent amount of blood and was feeling a little peaky. After checking myself for tracking charms and creating magic interferences, I apparated home.

I spent the next hour removing the implanted artifacts. It was especially pleasant to remove "magic shackles" and the defective accumulator. I took a moment to relish in the feeling of magic flowing through me, then returned all ex-horcruxes in isolating containers back into my pockets.

I really wanted to drink a blood-replenishing potion but instead began self-diagnostics. Rosier could not have placed all his bets on an explosion, no matter how powerful. My thoughts whirled around potions… It was logical to leave me a last goodbye. But how? He thought he would be fighting a blood specialist who will use up her blood during battle and drink a blood replenishing potion after. It would be great if the opponent died from it. How to explain it? Stupid girl missed a slow-acting curse.

I hesitated to use potions to check myself. Spells showed everything was clear. Cursing, I drained some blood into a vial. Adding the replenishing potion produced an unusual reaction…

When the three potions Rosier used to poison me interacted with their respective antidotes, they produced harmless substances. But something turning these leftovers into an ingredient for another poison. The other ingredient was the blood replenishing potion and something else… I immediately suspected Snape's betrayal: this smelled of a potions master. But he was unlikely to jeopardize Lily… And Rosier brewed the ones planted on me himself. But I should still check Snape.

How did Rosier pull it off? He must have brewed or bought some potion that was odorless, magically undetectable and easy to evaporate like perfume. I assumed I got the first dose standing without shields during the inspection. Although I stood inside an air filtration bubble, some particles must have found a way in when the second crossed its barrier. The "perfume" must have been slow-acting and awaited the addition of either the blood-replenishing potion or some other substance Rosier had on him. I had no doubt I would have died if I removed my air filter when torturing him.

Now I would definitely never walk around without defenses. To hell with duels like that! I needed to learn more about my servants.

The effects were probably temporary, but I decided to err on the side of caution and brew an antidote. The house elf brought the ingredients, and six hours later I had an improvised potion containing my blood and 56 other things. It tasted more disgusting than it looked… Time to sleep and rewatch the fight in my memories.

The next day, Rosier's manor got a visit from the Dark Lord himself.

Rosier looked pathetic lying in a bathtub full of healing concoctions. Healing with Dark Magic was not always feasible, especially not when most of his injuries directly resulted from sacrificing his own body parts. He was surrounded by various equipment, some of it pumping fluids into his blood. There were no active defenses around him… In fact, no magic at all… I was no healer, but besides clear signs of magical exhaustion, potions overdose, missing left arm, odd but obviously Dark magic damage to his right hand, phantom pains and tremors from multiple Crucios, trauma of the energy field from my blood blocking his magic, punctured hands and feet, and shattered leg bones, he had something else very wrong with him. Probably ritual side effects. He was conscious, in immense pain even under anesthesia.

I really wanted torture him to death… Slowly burn him alive or freeze him into a statue. He came close to killing me with poison! But formally, I had no reason, and his death would anger many people. And I needed him. I didn't share his ambitions of turning the Earth into a concentration camp, but he was very useful as long as I controlled him.

"My Lord…" he tried, but another painful convulsion shook his entire body.

"I am pleased with you. You put up a good fight. It is not your fault that it wasn't enough."

"My Lord, why doesn't she participate in raids?"

"She works on special assignments. Performs blood experiments on prisoners. Develops new spells. But she will soon reveal herself. Rosier, I understand you two have a feud. She survived your surprise poison that reacts with the blood replenishing potion. I ask you to refrain from antagonizing her for the time being and not incite anyone else to do so on your behalf."

He was very weak and would miss months of meetings… had "holes" in occlumency and no other defenses. I carefully slithered through his mind. Some of it was defended, but I might find something good. I could use strong doping for my next meeting with Dumbledore. Make Snape experiment with it, test on regular soldiers…

"My Lord, why should I not try killing her after this?"

Hm, I was expecting something less direct. But taking into account his condition… How was he even conscious?

"On top of the current orders, I will soon give her a special assignment," I said.

I was thinking… Both Lily and Rosier must consider me on their side… Rosier had another son, Evan. Very gifted in the Dark Arts. So gifted that at 20 years of age he managed hold his own against Moody for a good while, cutting off a piece of the famous Auror's face before dying… Moody, the legendary Dark wizard hunter personally responsible for filling a fourth of Azkaban cells. Equal to Dolohov in power, highly skilled in nonverbal magic. Paranoid bastard with an artificial eye… Riddle could have defeated him one-on-one. And I would handle him after some practice on Aurors in real fights. But to fuel propaganda and inspire recruits, this must not be done by the Lord.

"I want to give her a special assignment. Elena Ivanova must kill Alastor Moody."

Rosier's tormented face twitched with a hint of smile. Either the girl who humiliated him will die or his son's killer will. And then Rosier will finish off the victor.