Chapter 20: The Birth of a New Legend

My non-core skills had to be tested in a real fight. Healing and household magic successes on prisoners did not mean much. I was a fighter, not an executioner. But demonstrating a new style would go against my image: shortage of Dark magic, different Antipatronus, a much slower body, no plans to kill muggles and mudbloods left and right. And most importantly, I would not shy away from the main tactic of "Battle Magic 101": running away.

Lord Voldemort did not run from anyone (except, possibly, Albus). It would cause irreparable damage to my authority. But whereas running from Moody or a squad of hitwizards debased the Lord, a lone Death Eater escaping under the same circumstances would be an awe-inspiring victory. And I will arrange many such victories…

I went to Lily. She was in the living room, reading a book on dueling. Not the best way to learn, but better than nothing. Now to establish a mental link…

"Elena, you aura seems to have changed. I think it is the consequence of your Crucios on Snape. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"My wand stopped obeying me, my Lord."

Of course it did. Unicorn hair leaned towards Light magic, while her blood worked exclusively with Dark. How could she even cast anything with two cores?

"Deep inside, you realize you have changed," -I said and felt her stubborn distrust. No matter, she was already starting to see a preponderance of proof. - "While you were training at the Lestranges', I copied an imprint of your magic. A loyal to me wand master crafted you a new wand. Try to use it as much as possible. Do not break or lose it. Take good care of it. This is an order. The wand contains no illegal ingredients, but it will take a long time to get used to you - until you stop lying to yourself. For his payment, the wand master wants money and your werewolf core wand for research. Give it to me now."

Oh, how I loved talking to muggleborns! Reading auras. Master wandmakers bartering. Copying magic imprints. She won't even recognize Ollivander's style. And the best part of all, she had no way to call my bluff.

I wanted to test one interesting hypothesis. What if Ollivander was right and wizards did learn from their wands? This wand will not teach her anything good, she might as well take it and apparate straight to Azkaban.

Black walnut and dried mandrake root, made over two centuries ago by Ollivander's ancestor. In addition to high attraction to the Dark Arts, the wood had a useful quirk. According to Ollivander, it was abnormally attuned to inner conflict and would lose power dramatically if its possessor practiced any form of self-deception.* Thus, Lily's reluctance to follow my orders or making excuses (I was forced, not my fault…) would directly impair her magic. But if she got a taste for it and thought she fought for a just cause, the wand would make her feel strong.

And mandrake root core reportedly augmented the power of Dark-leaning owner. The wand master said these wands usually chose vocal and impulsive people who do not hesitate to bend the world to their will but often ignore the long-term consequences of their actions. A perfect match for Lily. She interrupted and criticized the Dark Lord! If I were Tom, she would be constantly writhing under Crucios. Overbearing and demanding, told Snape how to live his life back at Hogwarts, tried to separate him from his Slytherin friends… She already had a large magic reserve, and Dark affinity will come… if wands truly did influence us… And if the experiment failed, so be it.

I was pleased with Ollivander in so many ways. He already prepared a list of people with wands suited for the Dark Arts. Potential did not necessarily translate to reality, but it was better than shooting in the dark.

Moreover, I got a brand new wand: cherry and magical snake scale. It felt absolutely perfect, like the yew one did for Tom. Initially, Ollivander offered several types of magical snakes, but I brought him Nagini's scale. A glance into his mind showed it was even better.

What did Ollivander's notes say, again? Snake scale wands were drawn to wisdom and thirst for knowledge. Their owners often had contradictory natures with light and dark fighting within them. Struggled to restrain their baser instincts but very adept at defending themselves from outside threats.

So I had a Light side? Could it attack alongside the Dark? Heal me after battle?

The only thing I did not understand was why my wand must be so conspicuously wavy and shaped like a coiled snake at the handle? I had to find a custom-made dragonskin holster to fit it. And Frank's wand now served as backup.

"What is it made of, my Lord?"

"I am no specialist. Black walnut and some plant studied during the second year of Hogwarts. The master warned it will not work well if you lie to yourself."

We continued the game of question-answer, and I skimmed through her memories of lessons with Snape. Nothing worth attention.

"Elena, you ought to learn occlumency. Since you are under a secrecy vow, only I can teach you."

"Can I study alone?"

"No. Alone, it would take you a decade."

Why was she afraid? I searched through her mind every time I saw her. Did she not know? Thought if I did not scream "legilimens!" there was no legilimency?

"I brought you books. Once you finish all of them, we will practice," I told her.

Books with average, obvious defenses like "ocean," "brick wall," "forest," and burning sensation illusions for intruders. But they were fast and easy to learn. She did not need to become a master spy, only keep someone out long enough to call me.

"Is there a point, my Lord?"

"There is. Here, pet the cat."

And Lily petted a cat. A white and red tabby.

"Elena, where did this cat come from?"

It did not take legilimency to see the cogs turning.

"I influenced your mind and all your senses. It even smells like a cat. You need occlumency not to fall for such tricks. Never take off you mind-protecting amulets, not even at home. I am busy, so you must recharge them yourself. They will last approximately one more week."

"I don't know how."

"Ask Snape to teach you."

I wonder, what will Snape's expression be when she asks him to teach her blood runes?

"And now, bring me the pensieve," I told her. "I will leave you the memories of "your" fight with Rosier. Memorize the names of all the spells I used, so you can give a proper answer if at the meeting someone asks you what you hit him with during the fifth minute."

I left Lily and disapparated. It was time for my student to reveal herself to the world.

The plan was simple: put on a Death Eater uniform with Elena's mask, drink polyjuice, take Lily's werewolf heart wand, apply plenty of anti-scanning charms, and go play. Wearing a body of a short frail woman won't be pleasant, but potions and charms will somewhat compensate for it.

Someone else in my place would have probably gone to attack the Auror academy alone. Or caused a bloodbath at a muggle school. But aside from it being pointless, I was uncertain I could take out the droves of enemies responding to such an obvious attack… Go with a squad of Death Eaters? And deal with incessant comments from low-life marked questioning my authority? Calming everyone down with the Cruciatus could earn me hits in the back with something distracting during battle. We were not military with iron discipline. To command someone, I had to first earn their respect… Go with someone loyal like Crouch or Rodolphus? They would steal Elena's limelight.

I decided to work alone for a bit, then continue as a regular soldier under Dolohov. And once the Death Eaters see Elena in action and come to respect her, she could take command.

Where to channel my aggression? Ideally, I should only kill whoever gets in the way and convert the rest. Chimaera at the Ministry was an act of terror with two clear messages: "nowhere is safe" and "allow Dark magic for self-defense against animals!" Once the masses got used to Dark magic as a problem-solving tool, we would gradually remove "against animals" and "self-defense."

I already had a list of targets. Criminals who did not want to share their loot, brew us simple potions or gather material. Journalists who were refusing to write articles about the purebloods' greatness and the dangers of muggle ideas destroying our culture. Aurors who did not have enough brains to accept bribes and keep their noses out of our business. Civilians who openly said the Dark Lord's name or declared that they opposed us.

With the exception of the DMLE members, very few had to be killed. My main weapons were kind words and the Cruciatus. Excuse me, sir, do you have a moment to talk about the Dark Lord? Crucio! Either help us or stay quiet and out of the way.

Weeks later, I was walking down Knockturn under the guise of Elena. Two Chinese nationals were selling imported dragon bones and offering magical tattoos in a dingy shop ahead. Far from the Dark Mark, of course, just a simple artifact that forever stayed within reach.

I strolled inside and told them in no uncertain terms that they must share with the Death Eaters. In response, all I heard was "beat it or we call the Aurors!" in broken English.

Yes, this was banal racketeering. But I already put up anti-apparition and anti-communication charms. Under the acceleration charm and potion, I was very fast. They had no chance to react and got hit with Crucios. I showed them the Mark and patiently explained again. But when I turned around to leave, they tried to hit me with verbal Expelliarmus and Stupefy! That was foreigners for you. Most locals stopped resisting after a Crucio and seeing the Mark.

Before they could finish pronouncing the spells, both received a second round of Crucios and wandless penetrators. I broke their wands and tortured them a little longer. Two shopkeepers against the Dark Lord was not even funny. In conclusion, I added escalating pain curses and six months of impotence for each. They will spend several days at St. Mungo's with unforgettable sensations. And the impotence curse had no permanent effects and could even be cured before running its course. I said that if they refused to understand the easy way, next time will be worse. Then stunned them and apparated away.

Disillusioned, I walked towards the house of one very obtuse journalist. She wrote about the Death Eaters' crimes. What crimes, two rapes and a murder? It was self-defense! I already warned her twice in two weeks: burned down her house, cruciated her and obliviated the last five years of her life. And removed her leg bones. All without Dark magic, for easy recovery.

Now she was in the witness protection program. The warded house had two guards, one Auror and one trainee. While the elites fought giants and searched for the Dark Lord, this was a cushy alternative to shuffling papers. And if any Death Eaters decided to show up, the guards would simply call for backup.

I examined the house and two rookies who thought themselves camouflaged. No, everything was right. Why would Moody set up an ambush at the house of a reporter who was not even published in the Prophet? And the wards were decent. But not for Lord Voldemort.

I drank some more potions and imperceptibly prepared a couple of spells: blocking of magic emission and all types of travel, delayed soporific charm, runes of magic neutralization, and so forth. At the simultaneous activation, all three targets fell unconscious. I bestowed them with added stunning, paralysis, and restraining charms, put them in magic shackles and side-apparated everyone to a clearing I previously warded against magic detection.

What to do with the captives? Kill? It was too simple. People would see three graves and shed tears over their untimely deaths. And lo and behold, some young man or woman will get inspired with righteously burning fury and decide to fight evil. I did not need that. Heroes should stay home caring for their disabled parents, not train to avenge their deaths. Therefore, these three will get crippling spells. Of course, I would have killed them in battle, where the first priority was my own survival. But the current situation left room for creativity. Three more cripples should reduce the number of volunteers to play heroes.

The reporter went first. Rennervate followed by Crucio. The Cruciatus worked by creating phantom pain. If held under it for too long, the brain tried to reject the illusion. But because the illusion was so powerful, the brain ended up rejecting all other signals along with the pain - that is, stopped responsing to all stimuli. It took around four minutes of nonstop Cruciatus to make a catatonic patient. The reporter did not last very long. She was going to join the ward of "veggiwizards" at Mungo's. They had quite an influx of patients lately. Bellatrix and some others liked my new method and began emulating me.

Next, the sentinels of law and order. They had good death- and Unforgiveable-detection amulets that transmitted their location upon activation or removal. But I should avoid getting in the rut with Crucios, anyway. There were other spells to test.

With a Dark cutting curse, I removed the Auror's leg, arm and eye. Congratulations, you are now a cripple. Then, with a milder curse, I repeated the procedure on the other leg, arm and eye. And last but not least, his energy core and channels… One hour later, the Auror had heavy and extensive injuries to the energy system. The beauty of this procedure lay in the fact that parts cut off with milder curses could be restored. Restored with Dark magic based on human sacrifice banned by the Ministry. And my tweaks to his energy system will cause him pain with every spell. Once again, curable with Dark magic. So, he had two choices: be a useless cripple who cannot move, see or use magic without excruciating pain; or sacrifice two people and become like Moody. And the very Ministry in whose name he suffered these injuries will stand in the way of his recovery. And I left his tongue intact, so he will tell everyone about it.

The trainee Auror. Graduate of their new two year long accelerated program. My favorite kind of enemy. No, they usually did a great job shielding from Dark magic. Almost on the full-fledged Auror level. But all other magic types… Every one of them had a flaw. Some had no shields against radiation, some disregarded defenses against light… With only two years of education, their teachers had to prioritize. And so, trainees were a joy to kill: watch them with magical sight, throw in some revealing charms, determine their weakest or absent defense, and hit them with exactly that. For the public, the the fact all Auror trainees were killed with different spells was just another testament of Elena's sadism…

I wanted to test a very special spell on this one. It was still in early stages: zero shield penetration, flew slower than humans walked and fizzled out after fifteen feet. My ardent efforts produced a modified anesthetic spell seasoned with a heap of mistakes from healing magic practice. It activated the outer part of the energy core in the brain. In short, it was the anti-Cruciatus. He would feel very good.

The spell was still very raw and drained me of two average wizard reserves. I watched the patient: no reaction. Legilimency said nothing, I could feel no mind. He was stuck in his blissful inner world. What's more, I had no clue how to reverse it. His symptoms completely matched the reporter's: veggiwizard number two. Perhaps I should not cripple this one and see if they could find a way to reverse it at Mungo's… If they did, would he regain consciousness?

I gathered the three latest victims of the Dark Lord's insane student and left them concealed in Diagon. The concealment charms charms will soon fade. Just in case, I left a runic chain of delayed activation to cast the Dark Mark over their bodies in five minutes.

After returning home, I spent some time reading reports and newspaper clippings. Rita Skeeter published another sponsored article:

" You-Know-Who's Most Terrifying Weapon

A new outbreak of inhuman crimes has struck Magical Britain. Terror became our new normal, but the cup of atrocities is once again overflowing.

Recently, the Death Eaters began operating completely in the open, some no longer bothering to conceal their faces (see photo on front page). The DMLE confirmed that this woman used the Cruciatus no less than 83 times within the past three weeks alone. As a result, Twenty-six British magical citizens who publicly decried the politics of You-Know-Who are now permanent wards of St. Mungo's.

Despite their best efforts, the valiant witches and wizards of the DMLE have been unable to stop this monster. In the notorious incident in Lester, the aforementioned Death Eater got so carried away with the Cruciatus that she allowed a squad of Aurors to confront her. The result was tragic: all five were immediately burned with Fiendfyre.

Writer Barney Scarrow, a 110 year old owl animagus famous in certain circles, was able to resist with force when she attacked his home. Following multiple magical disturbances from Dark spells by both sides, three Hitwizards arrived to investigate. But even they proved powerless against the new terror. Mr. Scarrow was found dead on the scene, one of the Hitwizards was wounded by an especially powerful curse, and the criminal escaped while the responders were battling Fiendfyre.

The events on the Isle of Wight provoked by far the largest public outcry. Seven young wizards were celebrating their graduation of the accelerated Auror program when the terror struck. Six were pronounced dead on the scene, the condition of one defies magical classification. One of the Auror first responders received a delayed curse and heavy injuries from an explosive rune.

The coroner who examined the bodies had this to say:

"I've never seen anything like it in the 40 years of my career. I examined six corpses of wizards who were unlucky enough to cross paths with this Death Eater. She must be completely crazy and running around out there obsessed with original murder methods. I have never seen people killed in such preposterous ways. No sane individual could think of killing an actively resisting target by transfiguring their blood vessels into barbed wire. Or by vanishing all the bones. Or by pulling the lungs out through the throat. Or by simultaneously applying the paralysis and trash compactor charms. Or by combining the laundry rinsing and drying charms and targeting a human. Or by ripping out the heart with the appendix removal charm."

"You previously said there were seven victims?"

"One survived. Initially, we thought he was yet another victim of prolonged Cruciatus. But neither he nor the other six bodies had any traces of Dark magic. All this is one elaborate mockery of Magical Law: gruesome murders with legal spells. If she were ever indicted, she would face a maximum of 28 years for this incident. It would have been more humane to Avada them. Even Fiendfyre is more merciful."

For more details, see part two on p.19: "In the Footsteps of a Monster." A collaborative journalistic investigation, interviews with the Head Auror of France, and memories of the relatives of David Mann, the shopkeeper murdered in Knockturn Alley…"

And much more along the same lines… Yes, Rita knew her craft.

So, what else did we have on the agenda? There was some interesting new information on Dumbledore, but we needed the original source: Bathilda Bagshot. Skeeter had already loosened her tongue with Veritaserum and "borrowed some pictures and books." Was Albus really friends with Grindelwald?! This will be a sensation. But I needed more. And publish everything at the perfect time…

Meanwhile, I decided to visit Bathilda myself. I just so happened to have a handy spell that copied all of the target's memories. Dark and illegal because it left the victim completely and irreversibly insane. But Bathilda has lived more than enough.

I arrived to Godrick's Hollow as Elena. Still disillusioned, I knocked on the old lady's door and said I was a Hogwarts graduate who wanted an autograph for my History of Magic .

As soon as Bathilda opened the door, she received an overpower Confundus. I walked inside, and the rest rest was a matter of practice. Less than an hour later, all her memories were swimming in a pensieve I borrowed from the Lestranges. Of course, the woman tried to resist. But a well-prepared master of the Mind Arts against an old crone…

What to do with her now? Riddle had several fascinating projects, for example possessing human bodies with magical snakes… But that would be akin to leaving an autograph "Lord Voldemort was here." Therefore, after five hours of casting draining almost all of my energy and one ritual murder of a random muggle (had to swing by the Lestranges), Bathilda Bagshot's dead body now housed an Elder Spirit of Sorrow. Next to it, a single dementor was a cuddly puppy. The Spirit will imitate a live human well enough to pass for senile dementia and take care of the meat suit. And it could take its true form on my orders. For an average unprepared wizard, the Spirit guaranteed a cocktail of physical agony, psychological despair and severe schizophrenia.

I went ahead and improved her home defenses against scanning and apparition. Now no one will discover the Spirit here. Too bad these things could not be controlled more than one at a time… But this will do. I could already picture it: after the publication of the book called "The Crimes of Albus Dumbledore," a crowd of reporters comes to interview Bathilda. As soon as someone asks "was Albus really that bad?" they are all attacked by an Elder Spirit of Sorrow from the only witness…

For now, I had to go through a lifetime of memories and think of how to best shuffle them to show everyone Albus was evil. The story with his sister sounded rather murky… Steal her body and perform an autopsy? It will no doubt show his sister was a vampire. Why else would she take walks at night? Or maybe I could come up with something worse?

Bathilda was also a historian and related to Grindelwald… I should filter out and watch all the memories related to Nurmengard, surely Grindelwald will be delighted to share his memories with me… Though it will take years to prepare…

Three days later, I was again under the guise of Elena, unenthusiastically listening to Dolohov's speech. The plan boiled down to Elena, a dozen of ordinary Death Eaters, five Dementors and a couple of giants under command of Dolohov slaughtering muggles. Following my initiative, we would also be supported by twenty or so muggles under Imperius shooting muggle guns and yelling political slogans. Lately, Britain saw a steep increase of cloudy-eyed separatists and religious fanatics.

After explaining the plan of attack, Dolohov conducted a routine check of everyone's defensive charms. Naturally, his scanning charms did nothing to me.

"Everyone dismissed. We apparate in 11 minutes and immediately engage. Elena, stay behind."

Everyone walked out, and I faced Dolohov.

"Elena, I do not doubt your abilities. I personally witnessed them during your duel. But I need to check you to make sure you are ready for battle and give recommendations."

I removed my anti-scanning charm. Dolohov looked me over with a perfectly neutral expression. He definitely saw the Lord's style and something beyond him, the Lord's best duelist.

"The single most important quality in battle is discipline. I don't need soldiers who do whatever they want and can redeploy at any moment to prove their personal prowess. You must follow my exact orders and work as a team with everyone else. This is vital to the success of this raid and the success of our organization as a whole. Do you agree to participate on these conditions?"

What he meant was: you are stronger, but I am still in command; if you want to play a one-woman army, do it on your own time.

"The Dark Lord praised your leadership skills. I am ready to follow your orders. There will be no problems."

What was I supposed to say? Argue that I was better? Why? Elena did not need to quarrel with everyone, else even I won't save her. And Dolohov was as close to sensible as they got: during raids, he killed children painlessly or put them into shock to be revived at Mungo's. For a Death Eater, it was practically the International Red Cross.

We apparated to a small muggle town. The giants ripped out electrical poles and started using them as clubs to crush houses. The Death Eaters were throwing Reductos. Our muggles were shooting. The Imperius mucked up everyone's aim, but they at least provided good sound effects. And I was practicing transfiguration: conjuring muggle shells and grenades from air several hundred yards away. (Yesterday I visited a muggle military base and made a matrix for copying a variety of explosive toys. I really wanted to try transfiguring supercritical uranium, but it was too dangerous for both me and the Statute.)

I wouldn't go so far as to say my method was more effective, but it left evidence most clearly pointing to a terrorist attack. The Obliviator teams would probably spin it as a local skirmish… But that was the Ministry's problem.

Why were we doing this? No idea. Some came to have fun, others to gain experience. Personally, I was baiting the Aurors.

After couple of minutes, first responder teams began to arrive. Most fired stunners, Crouch's subordinates alternated between Stupefy and Avada Kedavra. We should kill him, I really didn't like his methods. But for now, it was time to show off the Dark Lord's student in all her might. Three regular Death Eaters and I faced two Aurors and three patrolmen.

I greeted them with a shower of Avadas and got two Avadas in return. Dodging, I screamed "Stupefy!" then silently added two more. The enemies dodged the killing curses. One threw up a shield against the stunner but did not expect two of Riddle's signature curses that followed it. The Auror's universal shield absorbed the first, but the second instantly turned her body into an ancient-looking mummy.

I transfigured a stone block to save some of our people from Avadas, then released Fiendfyre and followed it with Twilight Flame for a good measure. The enemy tried to resist, but I blanketed them with rabid terror and shadow paralysis. This was no throwing around stunners- these curses were difficult even for me.

The Death Eaters' faces may have been covered with masks, but I knew: they were looking at me like I was a god.

Ah, and there was the next enemy squad.

I conjured a blood whip into my left hand and rushed forward. Not because I was a brave hero, the enemy was just an easy target while trying to wrangle my cursed fire and overcome the nightmare curse.

Obedient creature-shaped flames parted before me. The blood golem was walking on my right. I ducked one Auror's Avada and cut his head off with the blood whip that swelled with enough energy to go through most shields. His partner was trying to flank me but got a face full of acid. I ducked behind the thick smoke of another enemy burning and screaming his lungs out, then hurled explosive runic disks at the live one. Minus two!

From within my mask, I heard the prearranged code signal from Dolohov: time to leave. We got spotted. I immediately activated the portkey thay took me away from the battle, then apparated to one of the Death Eater bases.

The debriefing established we lost all dementors and two Death Eaters but managed to lead both giants back to safety. The enemy's losses will have to be assessed, but by preliminary counts I killed seven, and everyone else (including the giants) a total of nine. This cost me three quarters of my actual reserve, but they were none the wiser. I used Lily's werewolf wand and carried an artifact the periodically activated Astral Cacophony.

In two more days, I walked down Diagon as Elena, with facial illusions on top of polyjuice. On the corner, a boisterous kid was selling newspapers. I gave him nine knuts for today's issue.

Elena's unmasked face was plastered right on the front page. I especially liked the reward amount: two million galleons. If I ever ran out of money…

"Life story of the Cursed Manticore is on page seven," the boy informed me.

"What Cursed Manticore?"

"You haven't heard? England has a new monster! She loves nothing more than torture her victims with the Cruciatus until they lose their minds and cut them up with a blood whip until are ground meat!"

And legilimency conformed it was true. Or more precisely, that the boy believed it.

"Who is she? Is she that ugly?"I asked, confused.

"What hole did you crawl out of, lady? She is the Cursed Manticore that's been terrorizing England for the last month! To meet her is certain death, they say she is an evil spirit who lives on the blood of her victims. I don't want to know what cursed abyss You-Know-Who found her in!"

For a moment, I stood dumbfounded with culture shock… But a preteen boy was not necessarily an indication… I decided to walk around Diagon with passive legilimency, gathering the picture from memories and thought snippets of the weakest-looking people.

The rumors circulating around Elena were truly blood-curdling. People said she was a bloodthirsty maniac, a horrible black witch (not Dark, specifically black! Wish I knew what they meant, maybe African?) who casually destroyed squads of experienced Aurors all by herself. A cruel monster with no mercy who placed terrified wizards under Imperius to force them to serve You-Know-Who.

I sat down at the Leaky Cauldron to listen to more rumors. I should not have done that…

Speaking in low voice and never taking eyes off his mug, one very obviously drunk wizard assured everyone that his acquaintance worked at St. Mungo's and secretly told him how several young Aurors ended up the mental ward after going insane from pleasure. The Cursed Manticore was famous for her love of young and beautiful people, men and women alike. And he heard she was also a succubus! No wonder she dressed like a whore!

Well, the last part was my mistake. Neither I nor Tom knew much about women's fashion. I could not always wear a Death Eater uniform in the streets, so I either copied Bellatrix's outfits or copied similar robes from shop windows and pages of "Witch Weekly." They were evening robes? What was the difference?

While trying to work out where my plan went wrong, I heard the descriptions of her appearance. Nobody knew the monster's name, but they readily discussed her features. Incredibly tall and wide in the shoulders, she could tear a grown hippogriff apart with her bare hands! Her face was cruel and arrogant, hiding hideous scars under illusions. To top it all, her gaze could vaporize an Auror on the spot or blow up a small squad. Next to her, Bellatrix looked like a sweet schoolgirl.

"She is definitely an evil spirit, I tell you!" a drunk old man heatedly argued to a small crowd of bystanders. "You-Know-Who freed her from the cursed forest, where Merlin imprisoned her centuries ago!"

"How the hell is she a spirit?" slurred another barely conscious drunk. "What's a spirit do with handsome men?"

"Everyone knows what!" the old man was not relenting. "Torture them and feed on their blood! She is an evil spirit, don't you get it?! Penance to this world!"

"You're too drunk!" someone else argued. "Cursed Manticore is a special Dark witch who was from a young age trained in Durmstrang to serve You-Know-Who! My brother in law does business with Bulgarians, it's reliable information!"

"Yes, exactly! I heard they only teach Dark magic and train kids like animals, to kill without hesitation…" a man dressed in rags of indeterminable color joined the conversation.

And I was thoroughly checking myself for mental influences and foreign potions. Nothing. The drink I ordered stayed untouched in my hand. Now I will never drink anything here. Even the barkeep did not want to suffer their nonsense and left.

As I was walking out of the pub and still trying to comprehend this new reality, I suddenly felt a change in the ambient magic. Something was stopping apparition and portkeys. Something of very good quality. I could not pinpoint the source of the block, and waving my wand with scanning charms was not the best idea. Before me appeared five Aurors.

"This is a law enforcement operation. Multiple traces of legilimency have been detected at the Diagon Alley market. State your name, remove all illusion and anti-scanning charms, and surrender your wand for identification."

I got busted. Did I go through their heads too roughly? Or someone had decent occlumency or amulets that at least registered an intrusion… And that someone alerted the Aurors, who were now sweeping the steets for suspects. I had three wands, each full of illegal spells. Without anti-scanning charms, I would glow like a star- this body still had the Lord's power… Not to mention magical signature and polyjuice tests…

Why were they checking me, specifically? I was too well-dressed for this dump. Drank nothing at the pub. Had facial illusions… Maybe the barkeep turned me in.

On the bright side, they did not immediately attack me… I could not simultaneously fool five Aurors with legilimency. Fiendfyre? This was Diagon, the entire DMLE would come running! Legal charms? Not enough to subdue five battle-ready Aurors. And considering how dangerous the situation has been lately, they might call for backup anyway.

The main priority was to avoid killing them. A death amulet would attract a crowd of enemies. Mind made up, I attacked them with wandless "pain arrows" and applied a withering curse to the ground. At the same time, waves of my wand blocked all levitation and activated my Astral Cacophony-generating artifact to at least temporarily disable their communications. Turning into smoke, I flew straight up like a fighter jet to leave the warded area. The ground below flared with activated defenses. Did I even hit anyone? They sent disarmers and other standard charms after me, but with my shields these were all but unnoticeable.

I almost made it to the ward border when I felt multiple apparitions and expansion of the anti-transgressive charms. I tried pushing through the rapidly thickening and darkening air but was forced to land.

"Hominum Revelio" showed twelve people walking towards me and about fifty chaotically running in all directions.

"Surrender! You are surrounded! Drop your wands, artifacts and shields, and walk forward with your hands raised! Or we will curse without warning!"

I recognized that voice amplified by Sonorus. It was Alastor Moody.