Who in their right mind would choose to linger in the Forbidden Forest without a compelling reason? It was pitch black, barren of comforts or sustenance. Even the self-styled noble vampires could only slake their thirst on animal blood, leaving them perpetually ravenous. Yet they dared not venture out, knowing the wizarding world would hunt them down without mercy.
Vampires were strong, but wizards' tricks were unpredictable—Apparition alone could leave them floundering. Unlike werewolves, who retained their magic in human form but lost it as wolves, vampires fared worse. Once turned, they forfeited all spellcasting, gaining only enhanced speed, razor-sharp claws, and a virulent bite.
Lily Elise fixed Erwin with a icy glare. "Snape, your godson is insufferably rude! Teach him some respect for his betters, or he might not live long enough to learn it himself."
Snape's expression hardened, his fingers tightening around his wand, poised to strike.
Erwin placed a steadying hand on his godfather's shoulder. "Easy, Godfather. I've got this."
He stepped forward, positioning himself between Snape and the vampires. "The strong? You? That's rich."
His voice dripped with disdain as his eyes locked onto Lily Evans. In an instant, she sensed mortal peril bearing down. She twisted aside just in time.
An unseen blade whispered through the air, severing the throat of a vampire lurking behind her. The creature's eyes bulged in surprise as a crimson line bloomed across his neck, blood dripping in lazy rivulets. He crumpled without a sound, dead before he hit the ground.
Lily Elise's eyes widened in shock. "You... how?"
Erwin's lips twitched into a smirk, a faint thrill sparking in his gaze as a chime echoed in his mind: power gained. "Pity you dodged. Long life does sharpen the instincts, doesn't it?"
Her voice trembled with disbelief. "A wandless, silent Sectumsempra? Who are you? No one your age should wield such Dark Arts!"
"Erwin Cavendish," he replied coolly.
She froze, then paled. Even in their isolation, whispers of the wizarding world reached the Forbidden Forest—especially about him.
"Erwin Cavendish? Head of the Cavendish family? The youngest Order of Merlin recipient? Slytherin's top student, who dismantled the Yaxleys?"
He nodded. "You know your history. Good. No loose ends, then."
As he raised his wand, Lily Evans threw up her hands. "Wait! There's been a mistake. You're powerful, I'll grant you that, but reason must prevail. Snape invaded our territory and stole a vampire relic—our ancestor's blood. By rights, he should return it. We've honored the treaty, staying hidden here. You can't just bully us!"
Snape muttered under his breath, "I only took a drop of what they offered. Ancestral blood, they called it. Might substitute for a rare herb in my brews—or so I thought. Handing it back costs us nothing."
Erwin's mind raced. Ancestral blood? Linked to magic-boosting potions, no doubt. No way was he surrendering that.
"The Snapes have guarded a family heirloom for generations," Erwin countered smoothly. "Cavendish records show your kind stole it decades ago. Godfather came to reclaim what's his. Yet you not only refused, but attacked him! Per the treaty, dark creatures who assault wizards forfeit their lives."
Lily Elise blinked, caught off guard by the brazen rewrite of events. "You're twisting the truth! Don't push us too far. Vampires aren't pushovers. Return the blood and go—spread the word that we're fair game, and you'll regret it!"
Erwin chuckled. "Whether he took it or not, it belongs to him now. As for gossip? You'll never live to spread it."
A lethal spark ignited in his eyes. He drew an amethyst crystal from his robes, channeling his will. "Arcane! Multiple Casting! Avada Kedavra!"
Green bolts lanced from the crystal, felling several vampires in a flash. Why spare them? In Erwin's view, anything that fueled his growth was fair game. Murder among wizards was taboo, but these creatures? They were expendable.
The Elise family's exile to the Forbidden Forest had left them with mere dozens. Now they numbered in the hundreds. Where had the extras come from? Predatory feeds on beasts—and likely more. The forest's wildlife couldn't sustain them forever. Culling the herd earned him power points; it was a no-brainer.
His banter with Lily Evans? Mere diversion in an otherwise dull errand.
As the first victims fell, her eyes bulged. "What sorcery is that? Attack! Kill him!"
A swarm of fangs and claws surged toward him. Erwin sighed. Voldemort's favorite curse packed a punch, but it was useless against mobs—even amplified.
He scanned the shadowed trees. Such a pity for the Forbidden Forest; it wouldn't survive the night. The Albanian Ministry would curse the cleanup.
With a wry smile, he lifted his wand. "Fiendfyre, clear the path!"
Flames erupted in a roaring blaze, serpentine and insatiable, devouring the underbrush and vampires alike. The inferno twisted into monstrous shapes—dragons, serpents, horrors born of fury—racing through the trees with unholy hunger. Screams echoed as the horde recoiled, but the fire was relentless, a god of destruction unleashed.
Lily Elise staggered back, horror etching her features. "Fiendfyre? You're mad! It'll consume everything!"
Erwin watched impassively, the heat washing over him like a warm breeze. Mad? Perhaps. But necessity demanded it. The vampires scattered, but the flames pursued, turning the forest into a hellscape of crackling light and acrid smoke.
Snape gripped his wand tighter, murmuring, "Erwin, control it. We need to extract that blood essence intact."
"Already on it," Erwin replied, weaving a containment charm to corral the blaze. Amid the chaos, a few vampires lunged desperately, but he dispatched them with flicks of his wand—Expelliarmus to disarm, then Stupefy to fell.
One claw grazed his sleeve, tearing fabric but drawing no blood. Erwin's magical reserves surged, the kills feeding his progression like fuel to a forge. By the time the fire ebbed, leaving charred husks and smoldering earth, the vampire enclave was shattered.
Lily Elise, singed and cornered, gasped, "Mercy... we yield. Take the blood and go."
Erwin approached, wand steady. "Too late for that. But for old times' sake..." He cast a swift Finite Incantatem, binding her in ropes of light. From her robes, he extracted a vial of shimmering crimson—the ancestral blood.
Snape nodded approval. "Well done. This could revolutionize my potions."
As they Apparated out, the Forbidden Forest smoked behind them, a testament to Erwin's unyielding ambition. Power waited for no one; he'd seize it, one blaze at a time.
...
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