When it comes to living under the sunlight, one has to mention the vampires of the Harry Potter world.
The so-called vampires in this world are nothing more than the descendants of unfortunate wizards. Because their bodies were damaged during magical experiments and they refused to die, they resorted to disguising themselves as vampires.
And since they retained the ability to reproduce, their bloodline continued.
Each one of them is pathetically weak. Once exposed to sunlight, they fall into a near-death state, their skin and bodies burning and blistering.
They are nothing like the legendary vampires. Compared to these anemic creatures, werewolves—with their infectious nature and greater strength—pose a far more serious threat.
However, perhaps the history of vampires is about to change.
On a London night, Regulus Black entered a chaotic neighborhood, filled with society's lowest dregs. Gang members could be seen everywhere. He casually found an empty room, waved his wand to clear a space in the center, and then produced a coffin. Inside lay the corpse of Barty Crouch Jr.
Regulus Black had purchased a deck of playing cards from Borgin and Burkes. This deck bore bloodstains, had witnessed a murder scene, had come into contact with the blood of the dead, and even carried a trace of resentment. Such qualities made it an excellent magical material.
Many decks, even if they had undergone all those processes, were nothing more than rubbish if they lacked resentment in the end.
But this deck was a rare exception, a one-in-ten-thousand stroke of luck. That final trace of resentment turned it into a magical artifact.
It could now hold magic without failing due to poor material.
Playing cards come in four suits: spades, hearts, clubs, and diamonds.
Different nations interpret these suits according to their own cultures.
The French saw them as spears, hearts, clover leaves, and squares.The Germans understood them as leaves, hearts, acorns, and bells.The Italians viewed them as swords, cups, wands, and coins (the same as the four suits of the Minor Arcana in tarot).The Swiss interpreted them as acorns, shields, flowers, and bells.The English understood them as spades, hearts, clovers, and diamonds.
Regulus Black scattered the cards. Fifty-four of them floated before him, the bloodstains on their surface radiating unease.
They already looked like suitable murder weapons, though still somewhat lacking in refinement.
Regulus flicked a finger at one card, infusing it with transfiguration magic. That card struck a second, then a third, setting off a domino-like chain reaction. One after another, all fifty-four cards collided, passing on the magic.
Very soon, the cards floating and tumbling in the air turned black. Their faces became a matte black, while the text and bloodstains shifted into a glossy black, faintly gleaming with eerie magical light.
Inside Barty Crouch Jr.'s corpse flowed blood Regulus had processed and imbued with magic. Since the corpse had once been a wizard, the magic automatically formed a circulation pathway, endlessly feeding power into the body.
Regulus Black revived the corpse. The long-dead Barty Crouch Jr. stood up as if alive again.
[Corpse Resurrection]Resurrect and control the dead, fusing their bodies and souls seamlessly. This is magic that truly masters the mysteries of the cycle of life and death.
"There are fifty-four cards here. I'll keep the Joker, and you keep the other Joker. The remaining fifty-two cards you may use to recruit vampires. All you need is their consent to accept them. Once you've gathered fifty-two subordinates, return to me."
Regulus handed the blackened, transformed cards to Barty and drew one Joker for himself.
"Understood, Master. I will see it done."
Barty Crouch Jr. drew the other Joker and slipped it into his pocket. Instantly, he transformed into the likeness of a clown.
The face he now bore was modeled after a human who looked naturally like a clown. Regulus Black had based this design on a memory from a previous life—specifically, the Joker from a Batman movie poster. On it, half the face was the Joker's, while the other half, instead of shadow, was formed by a swarm of bats.
Since Barty was to subjugate vampires and wield this deck of cards, a bat-themed clown was the perfect blueprint.
"These cards, once willingly accepted, form a binding alliance. So you may use deception to achieve it."
Watching the figure leap out the window, Regulus Black felt reassured that he had left himself a backup plan.
"Ah! Who are you?"
"Someone help! Our men are being killed!"
Not far away, shouts rang from a stairwell. Clearly, a gang fight was breaking out.
Regulus took out the Joker card and carefully attuned to it. As expected, the presence he sensed was Barty Crouch Jr., who had just left in that direction. Choosing such a place to release his new necromantic experiment had been the right decision. Only slaughter could solidify a revenant's final form and attributes. Killing ordinary Muggles was dull, but these lowlifes were ideal. No matter how many died, it would simply be chalked up to another body collection by the authorities, without arousing suspicion.
Soon, the gunfire and fighting subsided. By tomorrow, there would surely be a news article about a bloody gang massacre.
Before leaving the room, Regulus tapped the Joker card with his wand, recalling the coffin and sealing it inside the deck.
This world did not revolve solely around Regulus Black. Voldemort, who had already seized the dominant will, as well as the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry of Magic, were all pushing the world forward in pursuit of their ideals and interests.
Hagrid went to parley with the giants, only to discover they had already chosen Voldemort's side.
In this matter, Voldemort had the upper hand first. Meanwhile, the Death Eaters also learned of the Order's movements.
As for Regulus Black, he had dispatched the resurrected Barty to contact the vampires and forge an alliance.
And the Ministry? They had sent Dolores Umbridge to approach the centaurs.
The Ministry placed great importance on the centaurs' prophecies. It had been a long time since any new prophecy orbs had joined the Hall of Prophecy.
"To think they'd send me to negotiate with centaurs! They claim that since I've already served a year as Hogwarts Headmistress, I should be familiar with the Forbidden Forest. Those damned board members! They only want to see me humiliated. And they expect me to carry a crystal ball and beg those beasts for a prophecy? What do they know of prophecy? Prophecies don't even exist! They're all lies. What this world truly needs is to throw every last charlatan spouting nonsense into Azkaban, and then things would finally be peaceful."
Dolores Umbridge stumbled along, disheveled, muttering ceaselessly to herself as she walked through the Forbidden Forest at night. She had clearly been searching for a long time, yet still hadn't found the centaurs she sought.
In truth, who could say? Moments earlier, centaurs had been right behind her. Had she not loudly cursed their prophecies as falsehoods, she might already have made contact.
"You filthy beasts! I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic! Show yourselves at once!"
Still unable to find them, Umbridge grew anxious. Night was deepening. Was she truly to wander the Forbidden Forest all night?
This was hardly behavior befitting a lady. But she had already come too far in, and leaving would take just as long. Better to find the centaurs, get the prophecy, and have them escort her out. That would be most convenient.
Comforting herself with this thought, Umbridge resolved to scream insults to draw them out, bolstering her own courage in the process.
"You wretched beasts! The filthiest vermin! A pack of lying frauds! If you have any guts, come out and face me, so I can expose your lies and lock you all in Azkaban! There are plenty of cells waiting, enough to hold your entire race."
Umbridge's vicious curses finally broke the patience of a few younger centaurs. Bows were raised, and arrows were loosed straight at her.
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