Chapter 14: France: The End of the Eagle Eye

I sat at the Lestranges' workshop, layering charms over a gold ring. Tom was in no way an artificer. Putting together something unstable and destructive was within his power, but he avoided using artifacts in front of servants. After all, the Dark Lord was omnipotent… The ring was for Lily.

The Lord ordered the entire Inner Circle to participate in the assault on the mercenary base. It would be a prime opportunity to showcase Lily. She had a special role: misdirection. She will draw a lot of attention in several combat operations, then hole up under the Fidelius. Let everyone search for the new extremist. And find me under her guise. In any scenario, the Dark Lord's student will be hunted with less manpower than the Lord himself.

Lily's contribution to the assault must be something other than fighting, yet not look like cowardice, stupidity, weakness or my coddling. The solution was clear: she would arrive, waste all her power on a single awe-inspiring spell, and return home like an empty bomber aircraft. But one Reducto, no matter how powerful, would not impress anyone. And the girl knew no High magic…

The most crucial part this operation was breaking the manor's defenses. It involved three steps: activating our esteemed deserter's "surprise", taking down the main ward, and tackling the lesser protective enchantments. Burning everything with Fiendfyre would be much cleaner, but sadly the place had multilayered source-powers defenses preventing just that: the fire would be very sluggish and easy to extinguish…

But that was beside the point. To breach the ward, Lily would have to create the spell structure (with wandwork or runes), then imbue it with energy. She had zero experience and knowledge for the first. And charging someone else's spell would make even the daftest Death Eaters realize she was a dud.

And so, I was busy packing the entire spell structure into the ring. I had the brains for it, especially since I learned the ward's structure from the defector… What was his name, Jean?

Like a true thief, I was making a lockpick. All Lily will have to do is turn it: cut her hand and touch wound with the artifact. It will absorb her energy and draw the spell structure, leaving Lily to push everything through her wand.

The ring took me three hours to create and will last another two at best. Now, the last minor detail was to convince Lily… If not force or threaten. But first, take my potions: magic regeneration, sped up perception, blood replenishing, night vision…

In her house, Lily was already under polyjuice, hunched over a cauldron with her own night vision potion.

"Put on your uniform. You will be taking part in a combat operation. The mercenaries must be put in their place."

Lily froze. Again. But her mind was an open book.

"Here are the newspaper articles. They are authentic. You no doubt heard about the mayhem mercenaries cause in England. Think back. They don't give a damn about the targets, they work for whomever pays more. This particular group is famous for mass murder. They must be put down to preserve the Statute because even I won't be able protect us from a nuclear explosion."

Mercenaries or "private military companies" were conveniently clear-cut: give them a target to guard or eliminate and provide payment - and they fulfill the order. They tried to do all illegal jobs outside their home countries. Sure, they could sometimes get carried away and blow up an extra building or take a few extra prisoners for ingredients. But compared to most Death Eaters, they were the pinnacle of moderation and integrity: money over ideology, indifferent to blood status, never killed for free, much less for their own amusement.

The Death Eaters occasionally used their services. The range of offers varied wildly from group to group, but this "Eagle Eye" decided to play white knights: they refused to work with us on principle. Not even to procure non-human ingredients! On its own, that would not be a big deal. But they happily cozied up to the British Ministry and were for all intents and purposes part-time Aurors. Their deaths must remind others that money has no smell.

"I see your thoughts but want you to voice them. No need to fear, I do not cruciate anyone for opinions."

"Even if these mercenaries are so horrible and endanger the Statute, I don't want to be a part of your war, my Lord."

"How regrettable. Mulciber and his team had already put over a hundred of muggles and a dozen of wizards under Imperius. They will all be sacrificed to weaken the base's defenses. If you took down the main ward, some of them would survive."

"Are there any other ways to take it down, my Lord?"

"A very strong wizard can do it. But if I were to spend my energy on the ward, I would not be able to fight when I am needed most. The plan to break the ward with human sacrifice was developed before you joined. Aside from me, you are the only one capable of it."

"So if I do it, those people will survive? My Lord?"

"Some will most certainly survive. Some will be lost to the manor's traps. Mulciber and Rosier plan to herd the Imperioed ahead, to protect their own skin. But if you do not take down the ward, they are all guaranteed a slow and excruciating death in the ritual. And the Death Eaters will find new people to be their live shield."

If it were this easy, I would always carry prisoners with me. Not enough energy? Just kill someone and carry on! If only… But in the face of all their advantages, ritual sacrifices were impractically slow and hard to conceal.

"I only have to take down the ward, my Lord?"

"Yes. I am going to give you an artifact. With one hand, point your wand at the manor. With the other, cut your finger on the ring. It will siphon your magic. Overpowering such a strong ward will leave you with magical exhaustion. It feels a bit unpleasant but has no long-term consequences. Then you will immediately go home. No need to kill, fight or speak with anyone."

"Blood magic is Dark and illegal."

"Not quite. Some healers at St. Mungo's work with blood. Many potions require blood of the patient or the brewer. You should have brewed some in your sixth year of Hogwarts. You can use your own blood for many other equally benign purposes. And I am not offering you anyone else's."

I was just too lazy to make a higher quality artifact, and you must get used to working with your own blood. So miraculously simple: a single cut pushing the boundaries of reality! If I understood anything about psychology, once she sees how little of her pain can save a hundred lives, she will have a very hard time believing in equality…

Lily wanted no part of it, certain that I was lying or omitting things. But she had enough sense to remind herself that refusing will do nothing but land her a Crucio followed by a direct order she can only defy once before dropping dead. My request fell well within our "unofficial agreement" where she stays loyal and I don't order her anything vile.

"I agree to take down the ward as you described. My Lord."

"Wonderful. Put on the ring and take your portkey. Squeeze your hand like so, and your glove will sprout a thorn, cutting your finger near the ring. Drink this blood-replenishin potion."

I cast the defensive charms on her, and we apparated to the Lestranges'. The entire Circle (bar Snape) was already waiting. After they drank their potions, we broke up into groups and portkeyed to France.

We landed in a lush clearing about twenty miles from the Mediterranean Sea. But I was not here for sightseeing. The first thing I noticed was the local ambient magic: different but still close to the Isles'. Good enough to win.

About a mile ahead stood a house. Not a castle one would expect based on their wards but an actual large house surrounded with a garden. Some defenses were visible in magical sight… Their long-distance systems had yet to detect us, thanks to our valiant traitor.

The Death Eaters burst into action. Some began unpacking golems from magically expanded containers. Some were drawing runes, others waving around artifacts or arranging them into geometric shapes on the ground to raise wards against apparition, portkeys, communication, magic detection…

In addition to me, Lily and 19 Inner Circle Death Eaters (first squad), we had plenty more soldiers. The second squad consisted of two dozen marked but not yet worthy of sitting at the Dark Lord's table. The third was two dozen "mercenaries" - not professionals like our targets but hired semi-loyal British criminals. And finally, a live shield of over a hundred muggles and ten wizards under Imperius. Our enemies were biased against killing innocents, so they would provide an excellent distraction.

Sadly, giants and powerful creatures were too difficult to portkey into a foreign country. But we did bring dementors, inferi and liches, including James, Alice and Frank. To prevent Lily from seeing and saying too much, I dressed them in covered hoods, gamoured their faces and sent them to the other side of the building. The undead were preparing to attack underground, in the main escape tunnel and any other passages that may be created during the fight.

The dementors made me pause. Tom had strong occlumency and dementors behaved around us, so I predictably felt no discomfort. Still, their presence somehow felt strikingly different from my memories, and I couldn't put a finger on it…

But enough dawdling. Our large party could not stay hidden for long.

"General, change of plans. Elena will be breaking the main ward in my place," I said to Edward.

Tom liked playing toy soldiers, but I didn't feel like a great warlord at the moment. Memories suggested only Dolohov and the eldest Lestrange could be trusted to lead in battle. And to a much lesser extent Rosier, Mulciber and Jugson.

Dolohov lived to fight, so I let him take over the second Death Eater team. Rosier will lead the hired thugs. Mulciber will command the puppets from a safe distance. Jugson will direct the undead in the underground assault. And Edward will oversee the entire operation from behind enemy lines and lead the artifact fire from those who were strong wizards but bad soldiers.

"Go ahead, Elena, dismantle the ward and leave as soon as you are done. Remember, magical exhaustion does not excuse you from your other project."

And now to tell her what to do in her mind…

Lily took off her mask and pointed her wand at the shimmering dome, then clenched her left fist. The ring was invisible under her glove, and blood did not seep through the uniform - Death Eaters had to look immortal even heavily wounded. Her blood touched the ring.

From outside it looked like she performed the spell wandlessly and wordlessly. Of course, knowledgeable people will suspect an artifact. But so what if it was? The energy signature was different from the Lord's, so she was clearly fueling the spell on her own. And the energy around her rippled with very recognizable blood magic undertones…

Lily's wand shot out a silver cord. It hit the ward dome and disappeared. But the dome immediately cracked and began crumbling inward. The energy discharge was so great it was visible with the naked eye. In less than a second, the enemy knew we were attacking.

Now Elena will not escape the Aurors' attention. International attention. Without a "cleanup" with Astral Cacophony or analogous charms, such powerful magic left a clear and distinct imprint. Law enforcement will easily connect the double murder in Knockturn to military actions in France. And some of our hired thugs will survive to tell tales of the Dark Lord's dreadful servant who uncovers her face to better savor the destruction…

Dumbfounded, Lily watched the mile-wide ward crumble into dust. I activated her portkey and sent her back to the Lestranges' through the "backdoor" in our wards that was always left open to anyone with the Mark.

Meanwhile, dozens of wizards unleashed their best. Low-life criminals and wizards under Imperius bombarded the house with explosive curses. The Death Eaters favored stronger and more illegal spells, the Inner Circle putting in the most earnest effort of all. The Carrows attacked with a Firestorm and Fiendfyre, the roaring flames speeding up and whirling into the sky with the help of Rosier's tornado spell. The Lestranges worked together to conjure a darting black cloud that showered the grounds with grey lightning. Mulciber even cast Mass Delirium on the entire house, though I was not sure it affected anyone.

I decided to not hold back myself and threw a fireball at the house. It rapidly grew and reached ten yards in diameter by the time it approached the walls. Before it could hit its target, I already conjured a grey "cloud" that rained down toxic charms. It actually looked more like a giant amoeba when it sprouted pseudopods that tried to poke the house.

My Miasma Curse "cloud" could easily exterminate an entire muggle neighborhood. But we were storming a magically reinforced paramilitary headquarters. Lily only broke through their metaphorical main gates. There were more defenses ahead, albeit much less powerful.

The first wave of petty curses from our "foot soldiers" overwhelmed the enemy's ambulant shields. The next shimmery dome-like layer wobbled under the onslaught of magic and got shattered by the Inner Circle's attacks.

The remaining shields directly over the house were of every imaginable color and shape: cones, pyramids, polyhedrons… My fireball exploded before reaching the wall, taking one of the shields with it. A purple lightning shot from below, evaporating my cursed cloud into harmless smoke.

The enemy's automatic defenses returned fire, but we held it off with relative ease. Good thing the killing curse could not be stuffed into a artifact!

I jabbed my wand at one of the sculptures near the entrance that was barraging us with curses, and a thick Black Lightning disintegrated the enchanted stone on contact. I followed with shield penetrators and a tunnel drilling charm. The penetrator ate through two layers of defense, popping them like soap bubbles before depleting itself. The mountain buster left a hundred yard long trench in its wake but stopped before reaching the house.

I detested this type of battle. The enemy was too well-defended to be picked off from a distance. And soon their leader would take command of the source and start hitting us hard.

We planned a direct assault covered by precision strikes from the distance. This version of blitzkrieg will finish them in two hours, while everything was still cut off from magic monitoring systems - people sympathetic to Death Eater money were everywhere, even in the French Ministry of Magic. High casualties were a given, so hundreds of golems and inferi would go first, along with all the Imperioed puppets and the mercenaries. Then we will finish off whatever is left of our worn out enemy.

Their defenses had already been roughed up, allowing us to reach the house. The puppets and criminals marched forward, shielded by a variety of golems. The golems were rather low quality: statues of people and assorted animals from dogs to bulls, all made of wood or simple metals. Some were carrying simple artifacts: stone slabs with delayed explosive charms, staves charged with lightning or acid bursts, crossbows with enchanted bolts.

A golem like that took half a day's work for anyone with NEWTs in transfiguration, runes and arithmacy, i.e. all Ravenclaws and a third of other houses' graduates. Pity it was impossible to create an infinite number of golems since they must be charged to work. But here their purpose was limited to setting off traps, distracting our opponents and tiring them out. The golems' numbers were bolstered by fake targets: transfigured from junk statues that fell apart from a simple Finite.

… I had to quit being a spectator and follow the plan. Turning into a jet of smoke with Wings of Darkness, I crossed the battlefield in a blink.

The Eagle Eye had ten experienced mercenaries. After one sabotaged his former friends and left, I was still facing nine strong wizards. Not even mentioning that we were fighting on their territory where they had the advantage of walls, golems, defensive charms, and their source. So there would be no dropping behind the enemy lines on my own. And serious backup was out of question: anyone who had seen me fight before would notice the discrepancies between me and Riddle. I may look like him thanks to illusions, but my muscles and joints remained human, with human speed limits.

What better place to fight unseen than underground tunnels and dungeons? They were full of traps and could collapse or fill with soil at any moment, so sending soldiers there was stupid and wasteful. But a crowd of disposable undead was a different matter. These necromantic creations would cut off the enemy's escape route and divert some attention. Sending them together with regular troops was impractical: the undead were hard to stop from attacking allies.

Our original plan was to send the corpses in and control them from a distance. But I decided to control and lead them personally, leaving Jugson to make sure the enemy would not collapse the tunnels on top of us. In the worst case scenario I could redeploy or have him turn the undead away from me.

I landed by a group of four Death Eaters led by Jugson. Without needing to be told, they aimed their wands at the ground and punched tunnels through to the underground storage rooms. The passages quickly swarmed with a sea of undead: several hundred zombies from my resurrection stone experiments, nearly a hundred inferi, two dementors, eight phantoms and four liches. My humble figure with freshly applied concealment charms got lost in the crowd.

The enemy immediately tried to bury us with dirt and pierce with hardened earth spikes. They crushed several zombies, but it was but a drop in the ocean. We entered the underground catacombs. They had no damp cells or torture rooms, only well-lit corridors and large storage rooms. I noticed bronze golem bases, stacked granite slabs…

The first wave finally triggered the automatic defenses: the doors between rooms locked, the corridors sprouted traps. Several corpses got shredded to ribbons, couple more were doused with acid and turned into useless lumps of twitching meat. The liches and I had our hands full with blasting the doors and casting protection charms on the undead, who continued to steadily advance through the corridors and destroy traps with their bodies. Zombies died incredibly fast, but inferi had exorbitant toughness. They got pierced with transfigured blades, so what?

I sensed the traps but had no time to play a sapper. My blasting curse shattered yet another door, triggering a sudden burst of blinding fire from the opening. I shielded the undead but was too slow: the front line turned into cinders. Well then… Another blasting curse and nullification of magic into the corridor, and carry on, my dead servants… At least most traps got deactivated…

I had to admit this was not a pretty sight. Despite my attempts to reduce losses, the corridors were filled with bodies: crushed, burned, decayed, minced, dismembered… Though objectively, it went well: little over two hundred zombies and nineteen inferi, and we were already halfway there…

While leading the meat shield, I did not forget to keep track of the fight above ground. There, everything appeared to be in our favor: the outer defenses were breached, and our golems reached the house. Over half of the wizards from the third and fourth team were still standing, and none of the marked had yet engaged in a close fight. The enemy reserves and defenses must have been considerably depleted.

Mulciber really was a genius to draw explosive and defense penetration runes on muggle puppets with wizarding blood, turning them into a kind of self-guiding missiles. The defense systems initially avoided hitting the muggles, but after these kamikazes blew up couple of barriers, the defenses registered them as threats and began attacking indiscriminately. Not so the mercenaries: they stubbornly played holy paladins and tried to miss the muggles.

And then the problems started. Their leader, Robert, reached the source. Additional shields sprang up all round the building. He should have done this much sooner, but our defector attached several interesting artifacts to the altar room entrance.

A flash of flame blanketed a 100 by 100 yards patch, burning up golems and several wizards from the third squad. A powerful bolt of lighting hit the eldest Lestrange's location. His shields held. Then there was an explosion- hard to tell how strong as I was still underground, following the battle through our "staff channel" close-range communication charm. But judging by the ward's wobble, it must have been quite a blast. At the same time, the charging golems flew to the side in pieces, as if kicked by an invisible giant. Then the house shot out a cord of energy that started knocking the advancing attackers left and right. It whirled in front of it like a crazed tornado.

Standing over his altar stone, any source owner could feel what it was like to be a powerful wizard. It gave an overwhelming advantage in battle: he could hit hard without wasting an ounce of energy. This was the exact reason long sieges never caught on in the magical world.

The Death Eaters had a worthy countermove. Nott began weaving a spell, using Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Selwyn and Burke as accumulators. The combined power of six pureblood wizards tried to enchain the French' deadly whirlwind and eventually froze it place. It seemed like nothing was happening, when in fact two forces were battling in deadlock. This equilibrium would not last. Live people were unable not hold the spell forever. But drawing blood will allow them to keep going long enough for our purposes.

With the source's deadly attacks temporarily neutralized and much of the enemy defenses destroyed, it was time to release the elites.

New golems began their advance, now including a dozen of two-story tall beasts with their own shields and offensive artifacts. Instead of live bombs and wizard puppets, the vanguard got filled with Death Eaters under command of Rosier, Bellatrix and Dolohov. Mulciber gathered the surviving puppets and leftover criminals, rewarding the cowardly ones with Imperios. The few remaining enemy firing systems got obliterated with High Dark magic. Dementors entered the battlefield under the cover of conjured Antipatronuses.

At the same time, I was stepping over destroyed corpses underground. One of the dementors I took with me relayed an image of three live humans. Our plan assumed no more than two opponents underground… Casting tracking charms in the direction pointed out by the dementor, I found them several turns ahead. Relying on instinct, I filled their position with with conjured spikes, falling rocks and lava. The tracking signal disappeared, indicating their deaths. Too easy for such quality opponents…

" Still alive, " the Dementor warned.

A second later, the wizards launched a counterattack. I was instantly buried alive, pressurized dirt bearing down on my defenses. I parted the dirt with raw magic and returned the corridor to its original appearance. The walls immediately sprouted spikes that filled the entire free space but broke at contact with my shields. I was unharmed, but some 50 undead found their forever peace. The Dementor regenerated and got back in line.

Guiding my aim with impressions from the Dementor, I conjured a Death Vortex at the enemy's location. Several more twirls of my wand gathered the undead remains into a single flesh golem in the shape of a colossal ugly slug. To keep things interesting for my opponents I directed the golem, dementors, phantoms and newly arrived undead their way. I also called back the liches, but they were busy on the back lines, covering the main force of the undead from being crushed.

What happened next was utterly unexpected: my Antipatronus failed. I tried again, but to no avail. I prodded Tom's memory. As the name suggested, the Antipatronus was the opposite of the Patronus: High Dark magic, cast by remembering your most vile deeds to produce a spirit functionally similar to a dementor except for the soul drinking aspect.

Riddle's Antipatronus was a being made of various magical creature parts stitched together, his power and memories making it as effective as a swarm of dementors. That beast cold only be fought with Patronuses, some other Light magic and Fiendfyre.

I had to think fast. If my Antipatronus changed, it would have been understandable. But why did it not work at all? Not even a tiny wisp of black smoke? Heinous acts… Riddle tested a variety of memories and found the horcrux creation ritual to be the most effective. Did it not work for me because the horcruxes no longer existed? Or because I didn't technically make them?

So, what atrocities have I done personally? Killing four hundred captives during my experiments with the resurrection stone should work best.

The spell finally succeeded, but instead of Riddle's monstrosity appeared a thestral. And it felt weaker than Rosier's and Bella's… How fortunate I didn't get busted in front of servants… Strange, most of my Dark magic was as strong as Riddle's…

I sent my Antipatronus to attack. However, my botched magic ruined everything: the plan was for Riddle's Antipatronus to kill all three opponents with support from the undead. But the spell took three attempts, was too weak and too late.

The mercenaries destroyed all eight phantoms with banishment spells. The giant flesh golem slowed down under a shower of transfigured spears, then got cut to pieces with wide blades. Knowing I took the time to put fire-protection charms on the giant flesh bag, my opponents poured dirt over its still moving pieces and sealed it with concrete paving charms. Rest in peace, golem.

The Dementors were the luckiest: faced with three Patronuses, they simply fled. Unlike the undead who were obedient to the end, Dementors followed only when it suited them.

Several front line inferi got hit with full body boneshatters and fell on the ground like jello. A cutting net shredded zombies to pieces. My Antipatronus could have handled a Patronus or two, but it arrived when only the three humans remained standing. Their Patronuses quickly dispelled it. And then, the wizards turned to me.

First I got hit with revealing charms. All my camouflage disappeared, including the illusion of my appearance, making me look human. I reapplied the "reptiloid" illusion, but it didn't take completely, making my face look blurry.

I sent a self-guiding blasting curse back at them - an explosion in crammed corridor should be powerful. They fused the corridor walls on front of them. My curse hit the barrier, its blast wave absorbed by my shields.

One of them returned the tunnel back to normal, the second sent a freshly transfigured bus-size worm golem at me, and the third covered their creation with a universal shield.

Tom's memories promised I could easily defeat five strong wizards. But I had no intention of fighting fairly and hurried the rest of the undead. While they were on their way, I cast a shield penetrator at the worm. A cancellation of transfiguration followed it through the freshly made hole but only managed to break off a piece. When did they have the time to charm it so well?

The worm was approaching me, with one of wizards clearing its path, one stopping me from squashing it with dirt, and the last one holding up a shield. With telekinesis, I pulled multiple "grenades" out of my pockets: rocks, metal disks and pieces of parchment with explosive and magic nullifying runes. I placed them all around the worm, flew far back in a jet of smoke, hastily put up additional shields against explosives and activated the runes. The resulting explosion reduced the worm to dust.

I opened up the passage and sent the new batch of undead ahead of me. The three liches provided cover. They may be weaker and dumber than they were in life, but a four on three fight sounded much better than one on three. I was holding the collapsing walls, the liches were holding the shield, and the remaining crowd of inferi charged forward. I cast a Quietus Wave from the rear- it won't harm the undead, but my enemies…

They blocked my hit. Considering our crowded quarters and the undead's toughness, I expected fire, acid or pressurized dirt. Instead, I felt a tremendous increase of air pressure around us, followed by an abrupt drop to almost vacuum, which caused all the unprotected corpses to explode.

The liches and I bombarded the wizards with killing curses and Imperios, they replied with necromancy blockade, inhumation and killing curses. I took cover from Avadas behind the liches and deflected all the anti-necromancy charms.

One of the mercenaries cast a powerful blood banishing spell. His blood circled around my barriers like an intelligent stream and hit Frank, ignoring all his defenses. The lich dropped where he stood. Well then, down to three against three.

My Fiendfyre was quickly extinguished, but not before it ate through their improvised transfigured shield. They dodged several killing curses, but my Twilight Flame found its target: one collapsed and burned up with a piercing scream. Just in time as more inferi and zombies poured in.

I continued to shower my opponents with curses. They began to retreat, still dexterously taking out inferi one by one. But the undead were too many, and our attacks hindered the wizards' efforts. One of them again turned to blood magic. A thin blood rope shot out of his wand and started chopping up most of the nearby inferi. Slow crawl without legs was not the best tactic…

I suddenly realized I got unforgivably distracted by battle: Robert managed to overcome the standoff and prepared to attack.

The earth went mad and pressed at me from all sides. The same attack by three wizards paled in comparison. I could feel the tension and rapid depletion of my magic. All zombies and inferi nearby got flattened. The shields only saved me, Alice and James.

I put up a Shimmering Sphere and widened it to enclose my liches. With the thee of us fueling the shield, it became a stalemate. We could not repulse the attack, the source could not crush us. This may last a while. My retreat had to wait for the right moment: either the enemy gets distracted with our other forces or the eldest Lestrange will cover me, making redeployment safe and easy. I used the free moment to check on the battle above.

One High Lightning from the source vaporized a nameless Death Eater… Another flew at Dolohov, but he managed to shield; both his shield and the lightning vanished, and Nott immediately covered him from the next hit… Cackling Bellatrix rushed soldiers into the thick of battle, fighting off a firestorm…

In the meantime, I reapplied my concealment charms and illusions, then cut my arm and drained pint of blood. Now the shield was sustained by a large drop of my blood suspended in the middle and slowly losing volume. With a penetrator, I punched a fist-size tunnel in the compressing dirt, turned into smoke and quickly left the kill zone. For the enemy this looked like a failed attempt at escape. I was completely disillusioned, and the shield continued to be powered by three sources: two liches and my blood.

Still invisible, I cast a series of interference charms to cut off the mercenaries' communications and prevent another source attack. They sent a shower of dispelling and revealing charms in my direction, removing everything but facial illusions. I suddenly faced an undead banishing charm and a Patronus - they apparently mistook me for a lich. These charms did nothing, and we proceed to exchange killing curses, deflecting with transfigured shields.

I cast rays of dust and flesh decay curses accompanied by wandless chump change like disarmers and water boilers. Their wands sent an air spear and an electrical charge back at me, all the while trying to cut me up with a blood whip. Everything got bogged down in my shields. But two could play the blood game! I really wanted to test this in battle conditions but had not had a chance until now…

I clenched my left fist, and a sharp wandlessly transfigured fingernail pierced my palm. The blood golem was one of the most dangerous blood magic spells, and I belatedly realized it might go the way of my Antipatronus. But no, the golem appeared without a hitch and did not differ from Riddle's.

A blood golem was a humanoid made of the caster's blood. It could copy almost all of the owner's abilities and act independently, with a strong bend for blood magic. At first glance, an ideal spell: one wizard became two. But like all Dark magic, it had a catch: the golem continuously drained its creator's blood, was likely to rebel, and took as much focus and energy to control as Fiendfyre. But whereas you could escape an out of control Fiendfyre, the golem was tied to you with a couple yard long thread of blood. Its destruction created a rebound massive enough to send you unconscious to a hospital, if you survived at all. The golem was easy to conjure, but banishing took several minutes of wand waving all the while it kept draining your blood. And it was vulnerable to several specialized spells…

England had very few people able wrangle a blood golem: Lord Voldemort, Edward Lestrange, Nott and the Bullstrode family Head. The latter supported blood purity in name only and never offered offered us tangible help.

So, the blood golem was dubious. But at the moment, it was perfect: I had to kill those two quickly, before they restored communications.

The golem immediately attacked one of the wizards with boiling blood and blood needles. I decided to fight the other one myself. He showed obvious skill in blood magic and might know the technique to banish my new ally.

Fighting one on one was more of a breeze. My opponent's transfigured rubble and ripped out pieces of wall would not save him from my killing curses for long. I stopped him from banishing my golem. Dirt spears and an attempt to collapse the ceiling did not impress me. I couldn't destroy the spell structure of his blood whip and simply blocked it.

He made a new cut. Droplets of blood gathered into projectiles and flew at me in jagged trajectories. Multiple direct hits, but my defenses held. I sent the guillotine charm at him. He managed to do something to redirect the charm from his neck, and it instead cut off his wand arm. He should be easy to finish… But his blood whip suddenly went mad - glowed with power, thickened and flew right at me. I threw up an additional blood magic shield, but the pressure only lasted a few seconds. I was expecting a trick, but one look at my enemy revealed that was it: realizing he had lost, he put ALL his blood into one final attack… Just in case, I disintegrated his bloodless body with a corrosive charm.

My golem also won its round. The other wizard was sprawled on the ground after exploding from the inside and looked thoroughly cooked. Another blood boil curse clearly got him…

I soon reached the house. Its solid rock foundation was covered in runes- no chance to break in quietly. The only door was charmed impervious. The golem weakened the door's defense field, allowing me to draw blood runes of magic nullification, aging and erosion. In three minutes it would wither to a sheet of parchment, with the magic emission from my blood almost impossible to detect. In the meantime, I could banish my golem slowly, carefully and painlessly…

I lost contact with Alice- she must have been crushed. Potter still held on, but not for long.

"Lestrange, Robert will soon finish the liches and likely hit you next. Warn the others, especially the ones carried away with the attack." I told the commander.

"Yes, my Lord."

Then my contact with Potter went off. He got crushed as well.

I examined the battlefield. For the most part, everything was over: the Death Eaters overran the house and had no live opponents. The house defenses were at their last breath. The source continued attacking us, but everyone shielded and kept moving. Robert could not keep track of everyone at once, and Nott continued suppressing the source's attacks. The rearguard wizards had plenty of strength left, they only just switched to blood.

"My Lord, he entrenched himself in the locked altar hall. We will get him out soon. All other enemies are dead, the defenses are completely crushed."

I was finishing the blood golem banishment in the basement. The door still held. Although Tom was a master of blood, he disliked pain and tried to avoid using his own blood in spells. He preferred exploding others from the inside with their own blood. But I had to test all available magic in battle conditions. Showing off my golem was not ideal- everyone must believe in the Lord's omnipotence… But Jugson will keep quiet.

"Jugson, what were you doing while I was fighting?"

"We blocked 19 area attacks on you and your liches. I also lead part of the undead out of the kill zone.

Fine, the Cruciatus has been canceled. He apparently was doing his job. And his taciturn nature was a plus.

"Rookwood, this Robert will not detonate the source, will he?"

"We considered it, my Lord. That ritual takes a long time and requires advanced preparations. In addition, we created local interferences in the ambient magic, making an uncontrolled self-expanding release of energy impossible for at least 16 hours."

Good. I had no guarantee of surviving a source explosion, especially after a battle. And it would definitely leave me without an army.

Meanwhile, the door had undergone dramatic changes and now was completely devoid of magic.

"Lanceo!" the cutting curse shredded the door as if it were made of paper.

I walked upstairs.

The house was filled with Death Eaters. The humanoid golems and human puppets that did not participate in the fight had been divided into trophy teams to gather valuables into space-expanded crates. Once in a while one of them would touch a "booby-trapped" item and die, but it had no effect on the overall speed.

The Death Eaters crowded before the warded altar hall. They were chanting spells and drawing runes in the air with their wands and blood. The defensive runes on the walls were dimming and going out one by one, making the ward cycle through colors.

No one has ever been able to destroy a magical source. But the combined efforts of two dozen wizards were enough to temporarily plug it. While Robert's allies and house defenses fought back, he had a chance. Now he was locked in the altar room waiting for the inevitable. I would have loved to keep the source, but subduing it was more than a day's work, and openly staying in France would be difficult. The Aurors will arrive in a few hours, and Albus might decide to poke his long nose here as well.

I wanted to interrogate Robert before his death, he was bound to have some stashes… And knowing how he acquired and controlled the source will come in handy.

But everything went contrary to the plan: a fountain of energy shot straight up from within the room, easily piercing all its defenses. I felt the telltale stir of a nearby portkey activation. The room wards fell. Accelerating and casting revealing charms, I stormed into the room. But it was already empty save for a coffin-shaped cracked slab of basalt spewing up magical energy.

Bellatrix, Rookwood and Dolohov rushed in after me. Bella and Dolohov threw around revealing charms, which persistently said the room was empty except for us. They conjured snow, but there was no one invisible. Rookwood ran up to the altar and began smelling it and poking it with his wand. Rosier soon joined him.

"My Lord, the evidence suggests we now have a "wild source." He was unable to blow it up but somehow destabilized its energy flow and made a temporary gap in our anti-portkey ward," said Rookwood.

Just marvelous. Now one more strong wizard will want to kill me… I would never believe he escaped to live in obscurity and will not try to get revenge… or alert the local Aurors.

"Wrap up all activities, disband the trophy teams and go home. Were you able to gather anything valuable?"

"The bodies of all eight wizards are unusable for necromancy: they had high quality death amulets and drank "necromancy embolus" before the fight. They likely stored valuables in the safe or the warded storage room, but breaching either will take time; a rough break-in is guaranteed to destroy the contents. We only found miscellaneous trifles."

"Finish up fast and return to your bases. Cast Fiendfyre and the Dark Mark as a farewell."

In a few minutes, the Inner Circle and I were back at the Lestranges' manor for a debriefing.

"Report on our losses," I said.

"No casualties among the Inner Circle. We lost a total of six Death Eaters: three from the source's hits, two from the mercenaries, one got distracted looting - caught a curse from piece of jewelry and could not be revived in time. Five out of twenty mercenaries survived. No survivors among the Imperioed wizards, 36 out of 116 muggles are still alive. We lost 543 out of 720 golems. All 4 liches and 8 phantoms were destroyed. Six hundred and thirty out of 815 zombies and 54 out of 96 inferi destroyed. Jugson was able to lead the rest out before the basement collapsed. We also lost three dementors out of 35," - said the eldest Lestrange, - "The enemy lost eight wizards, one escaped. Their defense systems and over a hundred golems have been completely destroyed."

Large losses, but it was all trash: golems were easy to make, dead bodies were abundant, criminals were not a pity - let them earn their pay. Six Death Eaters… I wish I could avoid losing servants…

A fight of this magnitude will make the front page. It was very rare for us to storm a medium source, and this was the first large-scale operation outside Britain. Six Death Eaters was an acceptable price for eight strong enemies, especially in a siege. And the fact that the victory was achieved through canon fodder, a traitor and the element of surprise… We were terrorists, after all, a fair fight was not our forte. Most importantly, no one from the Inner Circle died. They were much more difficult to replace.

All and all, I was satisfied: no one saw my Antipatronus blunder, my dispelled face illusion or slow movement during battle… I should start revising my skills in case there are any more surprises beyond weakened Cruciatus and Antipatronus.

"I am satisfied, my loyal servants. Other mercenaries will understand the danger of working with the Ministry and Dumbledore. Inform Jean that his former leader escaped and will likely seek revenge. Offer him protection for a reasonable price. If Roberts gets in our way, prepare to announce a bounty on his head. Our next order of business is the funeral. They will be burying empty caskets at Godrick's Hollow, guarded by elite Auror units. Dumbledore will be in attendance… Macnair, do you still have that chimera?"

"Yes, my Lord. The beast is exceptionally large and dangerous. Even on a magically reinforced chain, in a cage inside a runic circle, the chimera takes round the clock work to keep restrained."

"Then, my faithful allies, listen to my plan…" I began.

Sebastian Rosier

Rosier was staring at the ritual material expenditure reports, but at the moment he was not seeing numbers. A single scene kept replaying before his eyes: a massive ward dome cracks and crumbles within a second. If anyone asked him who was capable of that, he would say only the Dark Lord. But he saw a blonde bint do it with his own eyes.

Personally, he wouldn't be able to do it without a long preparation and heaps of material. Nott or Lestrange could, but not with a single spell. His pride was kept warm by the hope that she used some trick or a cleverly disguised artifact… An artifact emitting blood magic signature… The same signature as the Cruciatus on Snape at the meeting…

He already ordered several potions from Snape and asked for "special services." The girl pissed off the half-blood so much that he agreed to help for free… But today's revelation implied that might not be enough. Too bad Rodolphus would notice Felix Felicis…

He began drafting letters of in invitation to his colleagues.. Selwyn will craft him artifacts he could smuggle into the rink. And Burke… Too bad about the wand, but results will be worth it. The favors those two would ask for on top of the money were a tad concerning, but at least the girls' death will be slow and painful. It was not her place to play with the adults.

But as always, it was better to err on the safe side. Thanks to the Dark Lord, he had almost a month to prepare. A month was a very long time for a master in ritual sacrifice. After all, the rules only banned potions and artifacts…

Rosier picked up his quill and started correcting the reports. Now these prisoners were never captured. He could use the extra material himself. His only concern was that the girl might have time to yield and surrender before he kills her…