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Harry Potter: The Mad Duellist

A Harry Potter fan gets transmigrated into magical world in the 1970's, some years before Voldemort's tyrannical start.... The only problem is.... he only ever watched the movies. Paired with his incomplete knowledge and vastly different understanding of magic, he explores the underground wizarding world up close. (The story is going to develop towards foreign countries and not have a huge focus on Britain at the start.) Follow him as he experiences the true secrets of the wizarding world and rises up from nothing. Disclaimer: "I don't own anything from the Harry Potter series in this fanfic except my OC. I do not own the image either, if you own it and would like me to remove it, please message me."

Writers_Ablood · Book&Literature
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48 Chs

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A/N: Shorter chap today, but it's somewhat of a milestone as we've hit 40 chapters on this fic! Thanks for all the support guys.

P.s: Would appreciate if you guys left a review on the story!

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[Underground Base, Intelligence Bureau]

A group of wizards seated in a row, were hard at work. Parchments and letters alike flew on to their desks, forming neat stacks. They all moved like a giant machine, tailored to perform at the highest efficiency for hours on end.

Documents flushed in as they were immediately scanned, approved and sent out by hundreds of ghost quills, while envelopes swallowed their contents and flew back out in the clutches of owls or were burned to ashes in the fireplace.

Yet despite shuffling through thousands of messages an hour, only jotting and scribbling of quills were audible in the entire office.

However, while not sharing the same work load, a set of wizards sat nearby, shouldering the same burden of secrecy. These established gentlemen handled the "sensitive" packages. Messages sent in by informers, intelligence agencies and the latter.

Naturally, considering the discrete and exclusive nature of their work, It was rather typical for these men to sit idle while their compatriots in the neighboring desks worked for hours on end.

Unfortunately, today was not one of those days.

The men seemed to discuss fervently, the group argued whether or not Butter Beer was comparable to Honey Wine. Of course, they prided themselves being connoisseurs of delicacies and pioneers at wasting work time, these experts highlighted and debated the rigid dichotomy of beer and wine.

Furthermore, a known gambler within the intelligence division, Daniel had already heartily placed bets on which beverage he could chug faster. They all chatted to pass the time, restlessly glancing at the clock, praying they could rush out to the cafeteria faster. (A/N: Check chapter 33 for a refresher)

That was, until the seldom used chimney box placed near their tables had seemingly sputtered alive.

Embers sparked within the chimney, startling the wizards, their conversations cut short abruptly, the hall now eerily quiet.

Their eyes lingered towards the chimney, perhaps looking for some answers.

They all knew floo messages were exceptionally rare, their hearts sunk spotting the ablaze chimney. A lull of anxiety took over the room, a sour lump jammed their chests as they waited with bated breaths.

The chimney sputtered, pushing out soot, all of a sudden it rustled and spat out a letter that swiftly slid on their desks.

Daniel's fingers quivered as he scrambled to pick it up. His eyes traced along the contents of the letter, beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

Without saying a word, he shuffled to his feet, his hands reached for his wand and a crimson plume shot out, alerting everyone.

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[Underground Base, a few minutes later]

Zack's figure apparated outside the main hall, an odd duffle bag slumped over his shoulders as he briskly paced towards the stairs.

Rapidly descending the steps, Zack moved towards the interrogation chamber. Contrary to his expectations, the base wasn't up in flames about his last message.

Albeit a slight hint of dreadful dejection was present among some of the informant wizards. Perhaps only a handful of people had been made aware to the actual circumstances.

Of course, Zack believed this was with good reason. Ivan wasn't foolish enough to cause mass hysteria. It would only work to their disadvantage. Rather he believed the apt reaction was to control the information, use it to their advantage.

Carrying the duffle bag, Zack unsuspectingly walked through the security check. No one would question his presence at this stage either way.

Zack finally came upon the familiar interrogation room, and softly nudged the door open. He spotted Ivan reading through clippings and journals, a few books lingered in the air near him.

Ivan's gaunt figure tensed at Zack's arrival, supporting a rough stubble and unkept hair as he pushed aside his stack of papers.

"I've been waiting." His eyes flashed an expected glare.

His old master had become substantially terrifying as he aged, giving off the vibes of a sly crook, but perhaps with more white hairs than Zack previously recalled.

"Quit your staring, I got you some valuable intel." Zack said, carefully placing the bag on the table.

However, to Ivan's eyes, it was deceptively light. He immediately groaned.

"A weight charm. What are you carrying in there?"

Zack slowly unzipped the bag, revealing an unconscious Serena inside.

Ivan's eyes portrayed confusion as he stared back.

"I've no time for your odd hobbies boy. Should've known you were crazy the day I met you." He shrugged and chuckled.

"Calm down, I just didn't want anyone seeing me bring her in. She knows everything, wanted to help in exchange for a favor. Don't break anything while you rummage around in her mind and I recommend you finish before she wakes up." Zack explained.

"What kind of favor would prompt someone to agree for legilimancy?" Ivan said intrigued.

"The kind you've no business meddling in. Good luck, she might fight back once she's awake."

Zack abruptly bid farewell as he apparated away.

Ivan sighed seeing the girl on his table, as he prepared a chair to lay her on. He whipped out his wand and began combing through her memories of the past month.

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[Dalton's Office]

Zack knocked on the door twice as he pushed it in. His eyes darted towards Dalton's chair, but surprisingly he wasn't seated.

"Come in." Dalton spoke.

Zack walked inside, spotting the man admiring an old family painting instead.

At his entry, Dalton's gaze strayed from the picture as he exhaled a deep sigh.

"Well done on your mission. Though I suppose it's no occasion to celebrate."

"The presence of death eaters in Romania is questionable. Can Britain no longer hold them back?" Zack said.

Dalton contemplated his words but finally scoffed.

"Dumbledore is an old weasel. There was a time I eagerly looked to him for guidance. But I soon realized his actions serve his own motives. No more, and certainly no less. He is a calculated individual. For him to let through such a brash invasion....Either he has no more patience to give, or Romania is a pawn he is willing to sacrifice."

Zack's face tightened. Dalton was likely right. Despite never meeting Dumbledore, Zack had watched his controlling, and manipulative nature. Dumbledore was a man willing to sacrifice his own life to set in motion the Dark Lord's defeat.

If anything, it spoke volumes about his character. Never once had Zack seen a man so selfless, but entitled.

Selfless indeed, to throw away his own life, but entitled to demand the sacrifice of Harry Potter.

"Leave that aside, I am sure you're more concerned about your reward." Dalton chuckled

"Of course. Your training, I want to experience it for myself." Zack responded.

Naturally, it was also the reason he had hastily left to meet Dalton. If anything, he was eager to see what Dalton could offer him.

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