When I stepped back into the light of Diagon Alley, thick smoke was already billowing from the depths of Knockturn. Inwardly, I hoped the flames wouldn't rob anyone innocent of their home... though the neighbors of such pieces of shit probably weren't any better. Maybe that bribed hit-wizard the shopkeeper mentioned would come to their aid. Though for taking bribes, that man deserved to lose his hands instead.
For a moment, in a simmer of stifled rage, I considered tracking him down too. But pragmatism won out—for now, I was far too weak to openly defy the power of the state. Sure, I could play the part of an Assassin's Creed character, just as I had a moment ago. Slip in, take care of business, and vanish like a ghost. But if things went south, a twelve-year-old boy, no matter how powerful, wouldn't stand a chance against superior numbers. They'd simply crush me with weight of personnel. And I had no intention of dragging Vespera into my problems.
I was snapped out of my thoughts by a loud meow from the cat on my shoulder. It was as if she were prodding me to finally move. I obliged. I quickly headed back toward the Leaky Cauldron, while two crucial things I'd forgotten in the adrenaline rush crossed my mind.
Firstly, I had someone else's brown wand with me, which didn't belong to me. And secondly, my own wand needed a purging. If anyone were to check it with a Prior Incantato spell at this moment, they would see the Cruciatus, which would be an immediate one-way ticket to Azkaban. I picked up my pace.
I didn't even ask the cat if she wanted to come with me. It seemed I had been adopted. As soon as I reached the fireplace, I called out the address of our manor, and a few seconds later, I was standing in the safety of our castle.
I headed straight for the training room. I needed to vent the remnants of my anger and, at the same time, use a series of common spells to mask the trace of the curse in the core of my wand. I knew that if there were a dozen other incantations at the end of the list, even Dumbledore wouldn't find a trace of what happened today in my wand.
The dummy stood ready in the center of the room. The only thing hindering my movement was the weight of the cat on my shoulder. When I shot her a meaningful look, she reluctantly licked her paw but eventually obeyed and jumped down. She settled elegantly on a chair in the corner—the very same spot from which Vespera had observed me before.
I aimed the yew wand. Automatically, I summoned the image of a blunt impact and the opponent being thrown back. "Everte Statum!"
The orange bolt struck the dummy, which groaned under the force of the spell. Its abdominal section turned red, and it was blasted several meters back. Immediately, however, it righted itself again, the red glow vanished, and the wood returned to its original, regenerated state.
"Os Frangere!"
A white-grey beam hit the dummy directly in the elbow. There was a loud snap—a clean break of the bone. The dummy's entire arm, from palm to shoulder, lit up a piercing red. This color glowed a bit longer than before. I realized that the spell had broken the bone first and then, with its raw power, crushed it to dust from within.
In my surge of anger, I was putting too much power into every incantation. Before the next cast, I had to stop and take several deep breaths. I held my breath, slowly released it, and repeated the process several times.
I could have suppressed that anger using Occlumency, but it didn't feel right. If a person ignores and suppresses both good and bad emotions, the consequences can be devastating. I didn't want to explode like a pressure cooker at the worst possible moment.
Once I felt I was master of my senses again—or at least hoped I was—I continued casting.
"Reducto!"
A blue bolt with black edging shot from my wand and struck the dummy in absolute silence. However, the dummy was exceptionally durable—the spell didn't erase anything from it, but the impact area glowed blood-red for several long seconds.
My Reducto had undoubtedly improved, but honestly... it was too quiet, pragmatic, and detailed. It was a boring death, and my anger demanded something more explosive. I switched, therefore, to a spell I had unfairly neglected until now.
"Fulmino!"
I poured a massive amount of power into the incantation; I felt like being a Greek god Zeus, if only for a moment. A tremendous bolt of lightning erupted from the wand, accompanied by a deafening boom. The pungent smell of burnt ozone immediately permeated the air. The discharge struck the dummy in a split second and, with a crack, hurled it across the room to the wall. It survived.
I'd really like to know exactly how this dummy was enchanted. I was certain that if I hit a person with this much force, it would kill them on the spot. I put so much energy into it that my hand shook. After everything I had done today, I had only about a quarter of my available strength left in my magical core. I felt it slowly regenerating, sensing it almost in real time... but with such a massive expenditure, the regeneration had no chance of keeping pace.
I had to catch my breath for a moment. Fatigue was beginning to make itself known. I looked at the black cat, who, with utter calm, continued to lick her paws. She was truly unusual.
In my previous life, I had regularly sent donations to shelters and saved cats directly from the street a few times. Every single one of them was naturally skittish. At such loud and bright strikes of magic, an ordinary animal would have immediately sought cover. I remembered New Year's Eve nights when firecrackers and firework explosions drove pets under beds, even though they were safe in an apartment. This cat, however, didn't even twitch an ear.
"What are you, exactly?" I asked her directly with a slight smile. I wondered if she was some kind of magical species. Her calm would make sense then... as would her intelligence. Cats had always been clever, but this was different.
She raised her head toward me and gazed at me for a moment with her glowing green eyes. She blinked slowly a couple of times and, without any further reaction, continued her cleaning.
"Pffft," I snorted. I hadn't exactly expected a verbal answer, but maybe at least some magical hint or gesture. Instead, I got the classic "muggle" ignore.
I watched her for a while longer, breathing deeply, before deciding to continue. I thought about a water spell, but that seemed too quiet and precise for the state of mind I was in. Right now, I needed lightning. I needed raw power.
"Fulmino!" I shouted again. This time, I kept the magical power lower; I wanted to achieve control, not pure destruction.
Two bolts of lightning flew from my wand, striking the dummy with a loud crack. The left discharge, however, was narrower and weaker than the right—I had failed in their even distribution.
That was the main problem with lightning. It was a powerful, destructive element, but because of its intensity and speed, it was immensely imprecise. Controlling it, splitting it, and directing it was exhausting. The lightning wanted to fly straight like an untamed element—fierce, destructive, and immediate.
I had a vision in my head: to split a single bolt so perfectly that it would hit multiple enemies at once. My current split was visible, but both beams were still aimed at a single target. It would be epic to achieve such precision that I could neutralize fifty wizards with a single blow. Legendary.
For now, though, I stood before a problem that nothing but hard training would solve. As always, nothing in magic comes for free. I continued the grind, deliberately conserving magical power; a weak discharge was a bit easier to tame in the palm than a massive one. The cat kept me silent company. With her eyes closed, she seemed almost meditative—the lightning clearly didn't faze her at all.
"Fulmino!"
The room smelled sharply of burnt ozone. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, and my magical core was drained almost to the bottom. I had made progress, yes, but it still wasn't as perfect as I wished. The dummy stood in the middle of the room, and in my tired eyes, it looked as if it were mocking me with its indestructibility. I knew, however, that it was just a figment of my exhausted mind.
As if on cue, the door to the training room opened and Vespera walked in. She immediately caught the scent, and her face twisted into a disgusted grimace. This vanished, however, the moment she caught my haggard look.
"Hello, Patrik. I have good news," she began with a smile, but then noticed the cat on the chair and stopped halfway. "And... who is this?"
"Hi," I replied tiredly. I didn't even have the energy for coherent speech. "A cat. She adopted me in Diagon Alley."
Vespera smirked in amusement. "And you're going to keep her? Though, judging by the way she's enthroned there, you probably don't have a choice anymore."
"Meow," came a lazy sound from the chair. The cat opened one eye, but immediately closed it again and went back to sleep. She was truly strange—around a stranger, any normal animal would be on alert.
I just nodded without a word. Vespera laughed softly, walked over to us, and her expression turned serious again.
"I see you've thoroughly wrecked yourself. Judging by the smell, I can tell you've been practicing lightning," she noted, looking me over. "Based on the intensity, you've been at it for quite a while. But be careful... if you practiced this in any other enclosed room, without the protections, runes, and filters we have here, you could poison yourself. Remember that, especially at Hogwarts."
"Poison?" I blurted out in surprise.
"Yes. In small amounts, ozone is harmless, but in the concentration you've produced here, your eyes could start burning and your lungs could start failing. Of course, we'd fix it with potions, but it's not worth the risk."
I immediately seared this information into my memory. I had no idea that a byproduct of lightning could be toxic. After a moment, however, a memory of her first words flashed in my head.
"And the good news?" I asked with a curiosity that injected at least a little new energy into my veins.
"That troll you wanted to hunt..." she began with a smile and paused for a moment, clearly enjoying my eagerness. When she saw I'd had enough, she continued: "My contacts haven't found anything in the area yet, but Elizabeth's have. They discovered a small group in the Western Tatras region."
"So when do we leave?" I fired off immediately.
Vespera shook her head in amusement. "Given your current state, certainly not today... and I was planning on us staying overnight at Elizabeth's in Čachtice."
"So tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, nephew. Tomorrow morning we can head out," she nodded.
"Should I prepare anything special? Gear or something like that?" occurred to me after a moment.
"No, nothing extraordinary," she shook her head. "Ordinary clothes will do. The trolls should be staying quite low, so mountain boots probably won't be necessary either. If you need anything, though, we'll either buy something there or I'll simply transfigure the shoes you're wearing. Elizabeth has arranged a guide who tracked them, so we'll find them quickly. You'll do what you need to do, and we'll go home."
"How come they're so low? Wouldn't Muggles notice them?" I asked doubtfully.
Vespera just shrugged indifferently. "Magical Czechoslovakia is not like England... The trolls have a free buffet there, and the local wizards only cover the tracks when it's already too much. Then they simply move them—sometimes diplomatically, other times by force. They're quite heartless toward non-magical people there, though. For many of them, a troll's life has more value than a Muggle's."
"And do they care about blood purity there?" I asked with keen interest.
"No, that doesn't matter," Vespera replied with a light smile. "Czechoslovakia was one of the first countries to voluntarily join Grindelwald's side. Every wizard there is equal in terms of blood. What is truly valued there is personal power and skill."
"I'm starting to think I'm missing out on a lot by studying at Hogwarts..." I mused aloud. "The Daily Prophet reports desperately little on happenings abroad, and I'd honestly be interested in how surrounding countries function."
"Don't even think about it," my aunt shut me down with a stern tone. "Every heir of our house has studied at Hogwarts; it's tradition. We will travel during the holidays, and you will get to know all the countries that interest you yourself."
The truth was, though, that now that I already had friends at Hogwarts, I wouldn't change schools just like that, so I didn't even protest. I did, however, hear Vespera mutter under her breath: "Durmstrang probably wouldn't survive you."
"Pardon?" I spoke up with feigned offense. I was an "exemplary" student, after all.
"Nothing, nothing," she smirked at me as if nothing had happened. Her tone gave me the feeling she had muttered it purposefully so I would hear. "Tomorrow morning we go to the Ministry of Magic in London. Our surname will secure us a transfer permit in no time. We'll move to Prague, where the local ministry will confirm our request, and then we'll head to Čachtice... from there, we'll go straight to the hunt."
"Is there a chance they'd refuse my visa in Prague?" I asked with a hint of uncertainty.
"No," she shook her head immediately. "Our name still commands respect throughout Europe. But Elizabeth's house... that one is even a bit more terrifying in this regard than ours. No one in Czechoslovakia will dare refuse a friend of their house."
"Just because of the blood rituals?"
Vespera laughed in amusement. "Just because of the blood rituals?" she mimicked me with a short snort, but continued immediately. "A wizard standing directly against you with a wand in hand isn't terrifying. What's terrifying is when you don't even know how, and your entire line begins to die out. Ritual magic hasn't been common in England for centuries, and for very good reason. Narcissa mentioned to me that they are considering a union between the Malfoy and Greengrass houses for little Draco. Except that house is ritually cursed, and no one knows if their descendants will even live to adulthood. They have been trying unsuccessfully for centuries to find a way to get rid of that curse."
"Why don't they contact the Bathorys for help then?" I asked curiously.
"Of course they contacted them," Vespera's smile deepened even more. "Except Elizabeth's house is powerful, wealthy, and self-sufficient. They don't need anything from anyone. If they started helping cursed houses, it could easily turn against them."
"How do you mean?"
"Simple. Some might stop respecting their ruthless reputation. Lately, they've been quite pacifistic, but someone could easily mistake that for weakness. Besides... other houses also master ritual magic, though not to such an extent. If they helped someone who was cursed by another dangerous house, a bloody ritual war could break out. And that is a conflict no one wants to risk."
"Is there any chance Elizabeth would show me some rituals? Or teach me something interesting?" I asked with a spark of hope in my voice.
Rituals fascinated me. The ones I found in Morgana's book were more of a natural character, but the Bathorys were said to practice much darker magic, involving blood sacrifices. After all, there could always be someone who deserved death but was still breathing due to weak laws. Such a life could at least serve a higher purpose.
"The chance is there," Vespera nodded with a frown. "But definitely don't ask first. Until she starts herself, it would be extremely rude."
I nodded in agreement. I had no plan to offend this dangerous house, which, thanks to my aunt, was our strongest unofficial ally. A moment of silence fell. I was thinking about tomorrow when Vespera broke it with a curious question:
"What are you going to name the cat?"
"The cat?" I blurted out in surprise and immediately looked at him.
At that very moment, I could clearly see the animal, sprawled on the chair, licking his testicles with divine calm... Why was I under the impression the whole time that it was a female cat? A tomcat had adopted me.
Vespera burst out laughing. "Go wash up," she finally announced. "Dinner is in half an hour. Then straight to bed, so you're properly sharp for the hunt tomorrow." With those words, she left me alone in the training room with my new companion.
***
Author's note:
So, it turns out the cat is actually a tomcat, and he's currently busy... well, cleaning his "crown jewels" with absolute zero shame. Pure joy, isn't it? :D
On a more serious note, we're heading to Czechoslovakia to hunt a troll! Are you guys ready for the carnage?
***
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Upcoming Chapters – Already Written(16):
66. The Scent of Darkness
67. Socks, Sandals, and Sorcery
68. From Peaks to Plates
69. Ashes of Justice
70. The Scent of Despair
71. The Old Bird's Wisdom
72. Toujours Pur
73. The Emperor of Mankind
74. Two Romans Walk into a Bar…
75. Tactical Retreats
76. The Twelve-Year-Old Dark Lord
77. Poking the Snake
78. Of False Heroes and Tethered Minds
79. The Casual Intruder
80. The Silent Partner
81. The Black Inheritance
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