webnovel

Harry Potter: Stahlwolf

This work is about a person who finds himself in the body of a German wizard in East Germany. What awaits him in the infamous Durmstrang and this new life that is radically different from his past one? There will be — intrigues of Eastern Europe, ancient secrets that, if not sought out, will find you on their own, like politics. The protagonist's attempts to keep his skin intact, and eventually, to find a witch who is his equal! If you want to support me or read up to 15 chapters ahead, go check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/HPMan Publishing schedule: 7+ chapters per week!

HPMan · Derivasi dari karya
Peringkat tidak cukup
59 Chs

Chapter 34

Shifting her gaze from the fallen magical creature, Vinnie turned to look at Adal — who, by the looks of him, was clearly exhausted. His heavy breathing and the beads of sweat on his forehead were dead giveaways.

"Hold on…" she muttered, reaching into her bag, which she had wisely brought along. Quickly, she pulled out a vial of light green liquid.

"That doesn't look appetizing," the wizard couldn't help but comment. "This isn't something you'd find in your standard apothecary, is it?"

"Nope, it's a national specialty," she replied, uncorking the vial. "It's somewhat like the more famous British Revitalizing Draught, but it works more as a fatigue reliever. Erin Isles' Restorative Brew, if you want the name."

"Well, if you poison me, it'll serve me right for being a fool who doesn't know how to judge people," he quipped and downed the entire contents in one gulp. "Ugh… It works, though the taste is just as bad as it looks."

"The wizard who invented it focused on efficiency, not taste. I think that's the right approach," Vinnie said calmly, glancing ahead at the pile of corpses. Better safe than sorry, after all — who knows if any of them might suddenly come back to life at the worst moment?

However, for now, only the small ghostly figures were approaching them, and they didn't seem to pose any danger.

"Looks like they're coming to chat with us," Adal remarked, sounding much more energetic now. "Why don't you say something to them in Irish? Yours is definitely better than mine."

"Alright…" Vinnie took a step forward, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath before opening them again and speaking in a firm, confident tone. "I greet the spirits of the ancient beings of the gods, the dwellers of Erin's forests! I am a descendant of those trained by Medb, and I come with a descendant of those from the South, trained by Odin!" She spoke in an older, more archaic version of Irish, but Adal could still make out the general meaning.

"I didn't know you spoke the ancient version," he commented.

"I don't, really. It's just a bunch of memorized phrases for situations like this. Honestly, I thought they were useless until today."

"Well, lucky for us…" Adal trailed off as one of the ghosts floated cautiously closer.

"Greetings, adepts of the secret magical arts. My name is Collan. I am… one of the dead who were enslaved by those vile Fomorians. We… wish to express our gratitude to you, and also our hope that we will not be enslaved again." The ghost bowed low — an unusual gesture for a leprechaun, who are generally not known for showing deference.

"I'm no good at this," Adal shrugged, leaving the task of conversation to Vinnie.

"I assure you, we will not allow that to happen," Vinnie replied, stepping closer and nodding respectfully.

"Ask him about the ruins beyond the forest," Adal prompted.

"And may I inquire about something?" Vinnie asked the ghost.

"I understand what your companion said, follower of Medb, though his speech is strange. But it is understandable for those who come from outside," Collan replied, turning his translucent eyes toward Adal with a certain approving glance. "Wait a moment, I will gather all the knowledge we possess and share it with you." With that, the ghost floated back toward his fellow spirits.

"Leprechaun ghosts — an entirely new, undiscovered type… Yep, this mission was never going to be simple," Adal sighed, sensing that their problems were far from over.

"Care to share more details?" Vinnie asked, having recovered fully from their earlier fight.

"Not much to tell, really. The main reason I'm here is for the Sword of Ornu."

"That's been proven to be a myth ages ago… But then again, Fomorians were considered myths too, so I'll take your word for it," Vinnie said with a sigh, sounding surprisingly reasonable.

"It's always a pleasure to meet a rational person," Adal remarked, thinking back to his time at Durmstrang. And the Ministry. And canon...

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Vinnie shot him a suspicious glance.

"This is where I'd usually make some dumb crude joke, but honestly, I prefer Fräulein with a more… mature figure," he said, already preparing himself to cast Protego if necessary.

"Good. If you were interested in me, that'd make you a full-blown pedophile," Vinnie replied, relaxing in an unexpected way.

"Interesting take," Adal chuckled, watching as Collan — or was it another leprechaun ghost? — floated back toward them. It was hard to tell them apart.

"We don't know why you seek the ruins, but in gratitude, we will share what we know. And we also advise you, noble wizards, not to enter. It's a bad place, and here's why…" Collan began his tale, from which they learned that the Fomorians had taken up residence in the ruins, having recently reappeared in these lands.

It was now clear why my mentor hadn't taken an interest in the Fomorian magic she desired earlier, nor sent anyone for the sword centuries ago. The situation was problematic.

The leprechaun spirit explained that in the past, the Fomorians always sought to infiltrate the regular parts of Ireland, but now they seemed mostly inactive, only occasionally prowling around the outskirts.

When I inquired about the nature of these mythical trolls, I learned that they were, in fact, demons — representatives of chaotic dark forces. This didn't exactly brighten my mood, especially since I grew up in a universe where creatures with such descriptions terrified everything living.

"On one hand, I want to get out of here as fast as possible. But on the other hand, a discovery like this would shake the entire magical world," Vinnie muttered, trembling slightly as she took in all the new information.

"That's great and all… but my mother will skin me alive if she finds out what I got myself into," I said, feeling a twitch of nervousness.

Sure, maman knew where this mission came from, but that wouldn't stop her from giving me a thorough dressing down for getting into a fight. In her eyes, I should be hightailing it out of here, returning with a squad of experienced mercenaries to clear out all the threats for me. But she didn't understand that I needed to grow my own strength and gain combat experience. Mercenaries aren't the most reliable, and we don't have a loyal guard of our own.

Not that I don't understand my mother's motives — she lost her husband, after all — but still, still…

"Well…" Vinnie sighed, clearly disappointed but not pushing further. Damn, it was refreshing to deal with someone who actually understood things!

"You can always say it wasn't me — just some unknown wizard. Or maybe a mercenary who preferred to remain anonymous. A strange story, sure, but weirder things have happened in the magical world. Powerful wizards in nightgowns, kids defeating Dark Lords…"

"You know how to cheer up an Irishwoman," she snickered, evidently pleased by my examples. It was a bit of a stereotype, of course, as similar oddities happen in every magical nation, but a little light-hearted teasing, when done right, can be effective. Like poison — it works in small, controlled doses. But if you overdo it and blame every mischievous British sorceress for all your problems, well… then you've poisoned yourself.

"I wouldn't be standing here if I didn't know how to lift people's spirits," I replied with a smile, recalling how often that particular skill had saved me.

"Fair point. So, what's next? Are we heading into the ruins?"

"How many potions do you have left?" I asked, shifting back to a more serious tone.

"Enough, but it's almost my entire stash. Poor half-bloods like me have to gather ingredients ourselves," she admitted with an honest shrug.

"Understood. After we retrieve what I need, I'll reimburse you for whatever you used. I have enough personal funds for that without dipping into the Stahlwolf budget."

"That'll work. We'll manage. We'll probably get roughed up, but as we've already seen, unlike trolls, these creatures are quite susceptible to magic."

"It's foolish and reckless, but for glory — it's necessary."

"You couldn't have said it better. But I didn't think you were so keen on glory."

"Oh, I'm full of surprises. It's a disgrace for a sorceress to go without them," Vinnie replied with a smug smile as she rummaged through her bag.

"I'm liking this partnership more and more, Fräulein," I said with a grin.