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Johnathan Grey
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As a Tomb Raider, I naturally chose camel travel as our mode of transportation. If one were going to meet a mummy, then one should arrive in a similar fashion to those who had succeeded in defeating mummies themselves. I internally give myself a pat on the back, knowing that Rick O'Connell from the Mummy movie would be proud.
It didn't take us long to get to the ruins where the tomb would be, thanks to having arrived at the local [Apparition] spot nearby. Just because I wanted the Tomb Raider experience doesn't mean I have lost my senses. It was too hot out there to willingly spend long periods of time out in the open, with or without magic.
To my right, Nicolas' eyes lit with satisfaction, holding up the glass bottle now layered with enchantments. "What do you think?" he asked, handing it to me.
Taking it, I analysed the magic, noting the containment, suppression, and reinforcement enchantments were as good as one would expect from a mage who had centuries to refine their craft. "More than good enough," I praised after a pause. "Although, if it were me, I'd have added a fail-safe curse. One that'd annihilate the soul if someone tried tampering with the bottle to free them in any way."
Nicolas grinned, not the least bit offended at my words. "Oh, give me a moment," he said, taking it back and getting back to work. Based on how his magic was moving, he was adding an enchantment that would force the soul trapped inside to collapse in on itself upon tampering.
Nearby, Perenelle, eyes closed, slowly walked in a semicircle around a stone marker buried under the sand. "These wards are trying to be clever," she said with a soft hum as her magic observed the surroundings. "They're trying to guide powerful magical signatures. Funnelling people like us toward… well, whatever brutalised the others. Regular Magicals seem to be excluded from its mental tampering."
I had noticed the same, but it was odd that the mummies wanted more powerful magic users who could be powerful enough to destroy them, rather than the weaker ones to dominate their minds and use their bodies as their new meat suits.
Still focused on the bottle with his tongue out like a child, Nicolas muttered without looking up, "Medium level Occlumency is enough to block it, though. Not subtle, just clever enough to mislead most Curse Breakers who focus more on breaking curses rather than protecting their thoughts."
Naturally, we followed the path the wards were leading us, finding ourselves before a looming stone door covered in carvings that drank the surrounding ambient magic.
"Done," Nicolas announced with a proud grin, holding up the now completed bottle.
[Soul Trap Bottle - Magical Item]
[Description - A bottle Enchanted by Nicolas Flamel to trap the soul of a dark wizard, using the knowledge gained from Johnathan Grey. Traps a soul within a void while leaving them powerless to prevent interaction with the outside world. Enchanted to be unbreakable and uses ambient magic and the magic produced by the soul inside to power its enchantments constantly.]
[+Attempts to free the soul will result in the activation of a failsafe, which will cause the soul to collapse in on itself, destroying it.]
[+Currently empty.]
I nodded, seeing some Tamrielic enchantments in the form of [Life Drain] as the basis of the failsafe, and said, "That should do it. You've come a long way since you first tried Tamrielic enchanting."
"He certainly has," Perenelle said dryly, eyeing the proud smile on her husband's face. "And now you'll never hear the end of it."
"I'm just doing what a good butler should be capable of, darling," Nicolas said, all but preening as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips nonetheless, while I just ignored the two and stepped up to the massive door, only for Nicolas to step in front of me.
"Allow me, Master Grey," Nicolas spoke, this time in a way one would expect from a seasoned butler, and placed a palm against the cool stone. A pulse spread through the door, analysing and absorbing a little of his magic. The ground trembled faintly as ancient gears locked into motion, opening the door with a grinding sound that echoed through the large stone corridor, revealing a dark passage ahead that led downward into still air and silence.
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Outside The Ruins
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Outside the sunbaked ruins, the air hung heavy with heat as Yasif stood with arms crossed, eyes narrowing toward the entrance. A group of Aurors loitered nearby, some casting nervous glances at the ancient structure, others adjusting their enchanted gear and chatting between themselves to pass the time.
One of the lead Aurors, a grizzled man named Sharif, strode toward Yasif without so much as a bead of sweat, even despite the heat, thanks to copious use of weather-regulating enchantments on his clothing.
"Well?" Yasif asked, arching a brow. "Did you at least manage to track where they went?"
Sharif rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Yasif's gaze. "We lost them," he admitted.
Yasif blinked. "What?"
"The wards," Sharif explained. "As you know, they're mind-altering. They guide you, twist your sense of direction, maybe even perception. We couldn't hold onto a steady trail. They're gone."
Yasif's frown deepened. "That doesn't make any sense. I know the enchantments on this site. They draw you toward the vault. They don't scatter intruders."
"That's the point," Sharif gave a dry chuckle devoid of humour, no longer trying to hide his meaning. "None of us wanted to end up a mutilated mess. We got to the main room like we always did, then we let them go."
With a low curse under his breath, Yasif turned away and began pacing, muttering, "Useless. Absolutely fucking useless."
Before he could storm off, a younger Auror, a wiry man with an oddly calm demeanour, stepped forward and adjusted the straps on his enchanted breastplate.
"I'll go in," he offered casually in an accent that almost sounded somewhat European to Yasif's ears, but the man ignored that irrelevant fact, focusing on the words actually spoken.
A few heads turned at once as Sharif raised a brow. "You sure, kid?"
The young Auror gave a lopsided grin. "Why not? Worst-case scenario, Lord Grey finds me in pieces and stitches me back together, right?" he laughed awkwardly to himself.
The others looked among themselves, a few chuckles breaking the tension. Yasif, however, turned slowly toward the volunteer with the same wide smile that didn't reach his eyes which he gave the Lord they were following. "Now you," Yasif said, strolling over and giving him a firm pat on the shoulder, "you're one of the good ones. Off you go." He ushered the man toward the ruins. "Don't let them get too far ahead."
With a nod, the volunteer gave a cheeky salute and Apparated toward the ruins, appearing just outside the entrance before dashing inside with determined strides.
As the dust from his departure settled, Sharif turned to one of his subordinates, a woman scanning the horizon with a frown as he muttered. "Who is that guy? I don't recognise him."
She frowned and looked around, her confusion mirroring his own. "I... thought he came with us," she said slowly. "But now that I think about it, there's one more of us than there should be."
Sharif's brows knitted as he took a quick mental count. "That's impossible. I hand-picked this team myself."
The realisation settled like a stone in his gut. He turned back toward the ruins, but he saw no need to mention to Yasif that he had just sent in an infiltrator to his or Lord Grey's death, lest he risk being blamed for Lord Grey's death.
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Jonathan Grey
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After a few moments of walking later, we found ourselves in a large room full of riches and old, enchanted books. As soon as we stepped foot in the room, old enchanted torches lit around the room and the mirrors placed in strategic areas in the room amplified and reflected the light so it would further illuminate the chamber. In the middle, there was a throne with a crown laid on a cushion that would have deteriorated with time if it wasn't for the enchantment I could feel on it.
[Gold Chalice - Cursed Item]
[Description: One of many enchanted calices designed to collectively start absorbing the magic of everyone in a tomb in Egypt as soon as even one of them is touched by intruders, send that magic to heal the body of the Pharaoh. Constantly sends out legilimens attacks to entice intruders, forcing them to make physical contact upon entry to the tomb.]
There were piles upon piles of these things scattered around the room, and I could literally feel why many would have died in this room. The sheer power of the accumulated [Legilimens] attack of all the gold and silver pieces in the room was absolutely diabolical. There were a ridiculous number of them in the room, after all. Significantly more than I found in the Lestrange vault. Which was why the compound effect was far more effective.
Naturally, it did nothing to us due to our sheer level of skill with [Occlumency], so we just made our way to the crown on the throne. I could see why it chose powerful Magicals though. The curses laid around were so unrefined, at least by current standards, that the conservation aspect of the magic went to shit. It made sense though. If the good pharaoh had better skills with magic, his body would have been revived by now with how many people had already been sacrificed.
[Jewelled Crown - Magical Item]
[Description: A crown enchanted by a long-dead pharaoh, Akemra, containing his soul, which constantly corrupts its wearer. Designed to deposit said soul in his mummified body nearby once the body is fully healed through the magic delivered from intruders in his tomb.]
"Well, here's your chance at it," I gestured to the high jewelled circlet. "It should be simple enough, but I'll be keeping an eye on the process. It's not as good as Voldermort's, but it's definitely well-made. Honestly, Tom should have added the same curses on gold and the like to protect the locket. He would have been better off."
With a snort, Perenelle shook her head as she walked over to the open coffin off to the side, where a mummified corpse of Akemra was lying, casting a few defensive spells in case of the worst-case scenario. Based on the way the cover was seemingly pushed to the side, it was evident that one of the other raiders at least made it that far, which was commendable
She then just stood nearby with her wand at the ready, keeping her focus on the coffin while we focused on the crown, ready to intervene if the cursed corpse stirred for any reason. "Well," she interrupted Nicolas' little internal hype-up with her arms crossed as she continuously tapped her foot impatiently. "Taking your time is all well and good, but we have some other worldly study to catch up on."
After giving her a dry look, the man turned his focus back to the crown. The moment Nicolas began the soul-transfer ritual, the opulent headpiece shook violently on its cushion. Dark, cloudy wisps of soul energy leaked from it, writhing and screaming as they were drawn into the bottle. At the same time, the mummy's bandaged body twitched slightly in its stone coffin, lips parting in a silent scream as if pleading for its soul's freedom.
Feeling the countermeasures in the room trying its utmost to help the good pharaoh, I put a quick and permanent stop to it by systematically dismantling the enchantments, not wanting to destroy it through sheer power and interrupt the old man's concentration. It only took Nicolas a few minutes to seal the soul, only taking so long due to the soul constantly trying to find a weak point in the containment field of magic he used to transform it from one place to another.
Soon enough, he was done, without needing an ounce of my help with the actual soul transfer process. Nicolas let out an exaggerated sigh of relief as he closed the bottle, smirking at Akemra's soul as it slipped into the bottle. Nicolas quickly slapped a few more protective sigils onto the surface for good measure, staring at the dark soul cloud before letting a sinister smile make its way to his face while he giggled.
"Nicely done," I praised with a nod. "You probably shouldn't try something like that alone though… at least not until you can do it while also curse-breaking several powerful wards and enchantments."
Nicolas snorted as he sent me a look. "You make it sound like I want to start making this a casual thing I do to pass the time." He shook his head as he looked at the bottle in his hands. "He was tenacious for a centuries-old moron though, I'll give him that."
"Let's just hope there aren't any more surprises," Perenelle muttered, lowering her wand as the coffin went still.
With the soul now sealed, I got started with properly removing all the other wards and curses in and around the room, before moving to store the ancient tomes in the [Hoard].
"I'll hold this for you, darling," Perenelle smiled as she approached her husband with her hands reaching for the bottle. "It would be difficult to put all this gold in an enchanted briefcase with that in your hand, my dear."
Grumbling to himself, Nicolas' shoulders slumped slightly as he handed over the bottle. "Of course, darling." He muttered.
Perenell's smile widened. "Oh, such a gentleman." She praised the disgruntled man, watching as he got to work like a child being forced to clean his room instead of being allowed on his video games. Luckily for the sulking man, I did all the curse-breaking, and he was smart enough to use magic to pack all the gold in an enchanted briefcase his dear wife had ready.
By the way he was rubbing his cheek on the side of the bottle when he was done, I was sure he was looking forward to practising with a [Soul gem] and Skyrim enchants. He could still use Tamrielic enchanting without the [Sou Gem] just like I could, but the man just wanted to try it one time. A suggestion of killing an animal did not deter him.
As we stepped through the arching stone corridor leading away from the now-empty tomb, the torches around shimmered off. The polished, enchanted briefcase in Perenelle's hands was exchanged for the [Soul Trap Bottle] he cradled carefully in his hands. Our footwear echoed on the aged stone floor, but my enhanced hearing heard the sound of an extra pair of footsteps making its way to us. One I had long since sensed.
Once we got to the end of the corridor, we were met with an Auror in well-worn robes, seemingly waiting calmly for our arrival and bowing deeply at our approach.
"Lord Grey," he greeted with a calm tone, before lifting a hand to his face. With a slow wave of his wand, the transfiguration he had applied to his face slowly undid itself, revealing the unmistakable visage of a healthy, distinguished features of an elderly European Wizard. One I didn't need [Observe] to recognise, having seen his younger counterpart in my past life, along with pictures of him in this one when looking through history books and newspapers.
Naturally, I used [Observe] anyway. One can never have too much information.
[Gellert Grindelwald - Wizard (Harry Potter)] [Age: 110]
[Description: Gellert Grindelwald is considered by many as one of the most powerful and charismatic dark wizards of all time in the Potterverse, thought to only be rivalled by Albus Dumbledore. Once the architect of a global magical uprising, Grindelwald was defeated in 1945 and imprisoned for decades in his own fortress, Nurmengard.
Decades of solitude and reflection have tempered his ideology. He no longer seeks to focus on domination through fear or the extermination of Muggles, having seen his methods did not work as well in the past. Instead, he's now focused on personally ensuring a world where wizards survive Tom Riddle's idiocy.
Escaped from Nurmengard during 1992 and now works in secret, carefully orchestrating influence and dismantling the power structures to ensure Johnathan Grey's plans come to fruition.]
Oh?....Okay then. I can work with that. He might be an old bastard, but he was an old bastard who I could feel still had a lot of magic and knowledge on how to use it well. He had that dog in him, and he wanted to help me win.
I came to a stop, inclining my head in polite acknowledgement. "Lord Grindelwald," I spoke evenly. There was no reason not to be cordial after all. The lack of aggressive reaction indicated that the Flamels wanted to see how things would play out, just like with old Dracula, but the lack of wands in their hands indicated they were already aware of his freedom and knew it wasn't a problem.
Good. I wasn't one of those micro-managing leaders. I didn't have time to deal with all this boring stuff all the time. It was why I had proxies like Cortana in the first place.
Grindelwald's sharp, experienced eyes flicked to the two beside me. "Ah… and you must be the Farages," he added with a wry smile, bowing slightly to the Flamels. "Though I'd know that signature magic anywhere. Greetings, Lord Flamel. Lady Flamel."
Of course they knew each other. What kind of Dark Lord wouldn't want the [Philosopher Stone]? Especially when trying to take over Paris.
Nicolas returned the nod, adjusting his grip on the soul bottle. "How is Albus doing?" he asked with a faint smirk, informing me that Dumbledore was also aware.
I wasn't against it. I'd only be at Dumbledore's doorstep if Grindelwald started joining Riddle. That would have been a real problem. At least Dumbledore was getting off his ass and doing something more than just the passive nonsense he was on before.
With a chuckle that held neither malice nor regret, Grindelwald responded, "He seemed rather… well, let's just say there were some visions he was made to see and didn't want the events in said visions to come to pass." A smirk made its way to his features. "I have found that a harsh truth, seen too late, cuts deepest. Still, I've honoured my word, since leaving Nurmengard, not a single step taken in rebellion."
His words and the description given to me through [Observe] was enough to let me know that they would behave, and he would try his best to make sure it worked. But there was nothing there to say he would not start doing things his way at some point, most likely if I died.
Again. I wasn't against it. I just watched their exchange with quiet curiosity before stepping forward. "Well then, Lord Grindelwald… what brings you into the tombs of Egypt, disguised and all? Something you'd like to discuss with its previous inhabitant?"
Grindelwald's smile shifted as his eyes flickered to the bottle in Nicolas' hands. "No, not at all. Something personal, actually. To discuss with yourself specifically." He gestured toward the direction that would lead us out, suggesting we walk, and we did.
"I've spent decades contemplating the legacy I wanted to leave behind," Grindelwald began. "And I've come to realise that power, conquest, even ideology, none of it endures without someone to truly carry it on." He looked around at the ruins. "I've never allowed myself such a sentiment of true family in the past. But now… I'd like the chance to pass on my knowledge, my magic, my essence, through blood. A child. A true heir."
I raised an eyebrow as the wind from the exit of the ruins came into view, tugged at my robes as I hoped he wasn't trying to adopt me or something. "You're asking me to make you fertile again? Because I'll let you know that I've already completed my emancipation."
Grindelwald chuckled, brushing a hand through his silver hair. "I may be healthy for my age, thanks to potions and such, but my body is still… incomplete. Locked away from one of life's most important experiences. I have the magic. The will. But not the physical capacity."
Ignoring the long-winded way of saying he was old as hell and couldn't have children, even with his no doubt extensive knowledge of magic, I gave it some thought.
Crossing my arms, I glanced briefly at Nicolas and Perenelle, who remained respectfully silent while keeping their eyes on Grindelwald. "You want me to undo the damage of time… to give you the ability to have a child again, naturally?"
"Yes," Grindelwald nodded solemnly. "Nothing more. I have done much in the shadows to ensure the snake does not gain a proper foothold in the underworld, and will be willing to do significantly more to save as many magicals as I can, something you can check through my thoughts if you wish. I want my child to be my legacy."
A third proxy. One willing to do the more shady things that will need to be done. A magneto to the Flamels Xavier. And one that was willingly giving me access to his thoughts as I felt his shield allowing me through. I didn't delve in though. [Observe] was enough. He could also make for a good, as in skilled and experienced and not moral, teacher in the school I would be making.
Yes, that could work.
I tilted my head slightly, then shrugged. "Assuming there's no dark ritual waiting in the wings, I'll consider granting you a child by blood. But if I do this, the life you live henceforth will be in my employ." I gave him a hard look to make sure he knew exactly what I was implying with my next words. "For the rest of your life."
He was a Dark Lord. One I remembered having his subordinate kill a baby just because it didn't have magic. Just because he could be useful didn't mean I would let him go free for a little bit of work over a few months.
Grindelwald placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head, while also transfiguring his features back to their disguised form, just as we crossed the exit to meet the sun. "That, Lord Grey, I can promise. Over an unbreakable vow if necessary, with stipulations preventing myself or my own being used should you, as Dumbledore would put it when referring to myself, go 'dark'."
"Oh, is that right?" I raised a brow as a smirk made its way to my features. "Alright. I have other ways of ensuring your loyalty, but we can do the vow once I have given your request more thought."
Healing him seemed a little much. But the Star Wars universe had cloning, and I could teach even normal people magic thanks to the [Arch Mage] essence. So, even if the child that was created didn't have magic, I would be able to grant it, or not, out of pure spite.
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"Everything Lost Is Meant To Be Found."
- Lara Croft.
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Hello There
Stop me if you've heard this one. A somewhat retired Dark Lord and a dragon walk into a tomb….
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