"You just mentioned... the Dark Lord?"
A wicked smile curled the corners of Sean's mouth. Wisps of black smoke seeped from his body, coalescing beside him into a humanoid shape before solidifying into the handsome, terrible image of a young Voldemort.
"The Dark Lord," Sean murmured, his voice dangerously soft, "is right here."
Every Dark Wizard in the clearing was under Malo's control, and Malo, in turn, was under Sean's. He had no fear of his ruse being exposed. As the smoke-Voldemort fully formed, Malo and the other wizards bowed as one, then immediately tightened their encirclement, closing in on Barrett and his terrified group.
Barrett stared, his eyes wide with disbelief, shifting from Sean to the spectral Dark Lord and back again. The horrifying truth crashed down on him. He had been played all along.
"You… it was all you!" he choked out. "You did all of this on purpose!"
"Just figuring it out now?" Sean's voice was laced with pity. "A little late for that."
With a sharp wave of his wand, the smoke-Voldemort dissolved into five living ropes of shadow, lashing out to entangle Barrett and his four companions. Sean glanced at his internal system panel, saw that his actions had successfully triggered the duel, and took a deliberate step back. He gave a silent command, and Malo led the charge, his enthralled wizards surging forward.
The battle ignited instantly, the clearing erupting into a chaotic storm of crisscrossing spells. Barrett's group fought with standard Hogwarts curses supplemented with some vicious dark magic, while Malo's crew responded with a barrage of obscure and malicious jinxes. As a pure fireworks display, it was quite a spectacle.
Sean's eyes scanned the battlefield, watching for an opening. He saw one of Barrett's followers beginning to buckle under the assault. Without a moment's hesitation, he stepped forward, his wand leveled.
"Sectumsempra!"
A bloody gash instantly tore across the man's neck and chest, a deep wound that sliced to the bone. With a gurgling spray of blood, he collapsed, dead.
With the first kill secured, Sean's mood lifted. He continued to watch the fray, ready to snatch another kill at any moment. He had to admit, his Head of House's signature spell was brutally efficient, especially for kill-stealing. It was silent and stealthy, and a single slash to the neck solved the problem beautifully.
The second and third opportunities arose soon after. Sean repeated his tactic, stealing the kills with chilling precision. This time, however, the victory came at a cost; three of the dark wizards had fallen. To Sean, these were acceptable losses, already factored into his calculations.
A jet of red light slammed into Dicky, sending him flying backward into a large tree. Before he could recover, Sean was standing over him. In the distance, Barrett was pinned down by four wizards, completely unable to intervene.
A pathetic, fawning smile spread across Dicky's face. "Sean… Bulstrode," he stammered. "I was misled by Barrett! This wasn't my idea. We're both reserves for the Slytherin Brotherhood. Spare me, and I swear I'll follow your every command, I'll… urk…"
He never finished the sentence. A thin, red line appeared on his throat. Blood bubbled from the wound as he choked, his eyes wide with disbelief and despair. He stared at Sean with pure hatred, reaching out a blood-soaked hand. But before it could touch him, his arm was severed at the elbow. Staring at his own severed limb, Dicky's pupils slowly dilated, and he collapsed in a heap.
Looking down at the body, Sean suddenly felt he understood why Voldemort always brought an entourage. The feeling of having minions set up the kills for you was truly excellent. He didn't enjoy killing, but these men had come to kill him first.
He turned and walked toward the last remaining enemy. Malo stood a single step behind him, a loyal shadow. Looking at Barrett, Sean had to admit the boy's skills were impressive. So far, the dark wizards had lost six members, and Barrett had taken down three of them himself.
Besides Malo, six of his wizards remained. Sean made a mental note to pick two of the more disobedient ones to serve as scapegoats for the Ministry's inevitable investigation. That would leave five, including Malo—a perfectly streamlined force.
Barrett glared at Sean and the surrounding wizards, his voice low and intense. "Who are you, really? You're not the Dark Lord, and you're definitely not Sean Bulstrode. The son of a Squib couldn't possibly command so many dark wizards, nor would he have this kind of power!"
"Don't misunderstand. I am indeed Sean Bulstrode," Sean said calmly. "And I am also Voldemort. If you don't believe me, ask them who I am."
As if on cue, Malo took the lead. "He is the great Dark Lord. Our master."
Sean smiled and tilted his head toward Barrett. "See? They all agree."
A muscle twitched in Barrett's eye. He let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh. "It doesn't matter who you are anymore. This is all my own doing. I never should have gotten involved in your Bulstrode family affairs, nor should I have been so foolishly deceived. But it's useless to say any of this now. The outcome is set."
He straightened his posture, his eyes blazing with defiance. "However, killing me won't be so easy. These wizards of yours are unimpressive. Only the one beside you is halfway decent; the rest are nothing. I'm a dead man, but before I die, I'll be sure to take a few more of your men with me. Trading my one life to turn you into a commander with no soldiers… a fine trade!"
"You're not wrong," Sean chuckled. "And while I've long planned on streamlining my forces, it would be troublesome if too many of them died. In that case, I suppose I should deal with you myself."
He hadn't been particularly keen on dueling at first, largely using it as a means to acquire his opponents' abilities. But slowly, without him even noticing, something subtle and dangerous had taken root.
With a slight wave of his hand, the men around them immediately dispersed, forming a wide circle.
Malo showed no signs of concern. He had unconditional faith in his master. If Sean wanted to duel Barrett, Sean would be the victor. There was no other possibility.
Barrett, however, saw the dispersing wizards as a glimmer of hope. He gripped his wand tightly, his knuckles white. There was no dueling etiquette, no formal declaration. He simply raised his wand and unleashed a curse straight at Sean.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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