The battle in the hall had briefly ceased, suspended in an uneasy truce that felt more dangerous than the combat itself. The sudden absence of curse fire and screaming left a ringing silence in its trail.
The Aurors withdrew their shimmering magical barriers with relief, the protective domes dissipating into sparkles of fading light. They used this brief, unexpected respite to catch their breath, to assess their injuries.
Uriel and Selena came to Sirius's side quickly. Amelia also drew near, unconsciously seeking the security of numbers. All of them were watching Graves intently, the man who now exuded an aura of gloom and evil throughout his entire body.
"Something's not right—"
Uriel said gravely. Both Selena and Amelia nodded in immediate agreement, their faces showing the same deep unease.
Sirius's expression was equally grave, his eyes narrowed in calculation. He knew exactly what Uriel meant without need for explanation.
Though none of them knew Trask Graves closely, though their relationship had been purely professional, the change in him was far too obvious to miss, to explain away. It was as if he had literally become a different person, not just acting differently, but deeply transformed at some essential level.
The Graves who had recounted his tragic past to them earlier in this very hall, though undeniably a criminal who had committed unforgivable crimes that would see him executed, still allowed Sirius to detect genuine threads of sorrow in his emotions.
There had been unwillingness and resentment at being toyed with by fate, anger at the injustice of being cursed just as his dreams came true. Those had been recognizable human emotions, understandable even if not forgivable.
But the man in front of them now had completely immersed himself in his 'success' with disturbing totality, celebrating with frenzied energy. He no longer possessed even a trace of emotion that could be called 'good'. All of that had been burned away, leaving only something cold and predatory.
"Very well, I do have some confusion and curiosity—"
Sirius suddenly said, breaking the tense silence. His voice had preplanned tone of interest, drawing Graves's attention intentionally.
"What exactly have you done? What is this you're so proud of?"
"Oh, now that's wise, Mr. Black—much more sensible than continued resistance!"
Graves smiled politely, the expression eerily elegant on a face that now radiated such wrongness. But his eyes held only cold triumph without any genuine warmth or fun.
"Today is undoubtedly a day worth remembering. I mean, I've finally broken free from mediocre constraints, transcended the limitations that bind ordinary wizards, to truly become a great, immortal being.
Worth celebrating, wouldn't you say? So, I'm willing to show some mercy... to display to you all... oh, to display my extraordinary wisdom and accomplishment—"
Graves began pacing by the blood pool, his movements agitated and energetic. His emotions were clearly heightened, oscillating between triumph and something darker.
"But where should I begin this tale? Where does one start explaining years of careful planning? Ah, yes—you asked me earlier why I wasn't worried whether the information those vampires I arrested years ago revealed to me was a lie. Whether these vile creatures who only deserve to exist in darkness, who have every reason to hate me, might be... setting a trap for me?"
"You said you interrogated them with Veritaserum and magic, didn't you? That you'd verified their claims?"
Sirius encouraged, keeping Graves talking. Information was a weapon, and the more this man revealed, the better they might understand what they faced.
"Oh, indeed, Mr. Black. I wasn't lying just now, that much was genuine truth. I truly believed what the vampires told me was real. That as long as their ancestor was successfully resurrected, if we could complete the ritual, it could resolve my curse. But—"
Graves paused in his pacing, standing directly before the motionless ancestor. He gazed at it with the appreciative eyes of one admiring a particularly fine piece of art, studying its perfect features.
"I also considered another critical problem at the time, a logical flaw in their assurances: even if I joined the vampires' plan wholeheartedly and helped them successfully resurrect their ancestor through my resources and authority, how could I ensure that after its resurrection, this ancient and powerful ancestor would be willing to solve my troubles?
What would compel it to help me rather than continue to enslave me with the curse, or simply kill me for having imprisoned its descendants?"
Sirius's eyebrows moved slightly in acknowledgment of the valid concern, but he said nothing, letting Graves continue his self-congratulatory explanation.
"Just as you said earlier with, I would be resurrecting a dark creature I knew nearly nothing about, a vampire with tremendous power accumulated over centuries.
Should I place my hopes, my very survival, on such a being understanding concepts like gratitude and repaying kindness? Should I trust in the mercy of something that feeds on human blood?"
Observing the vampire ancestor's attractive face, that perfect, empty beauty, Graves smiled with open contempt and mockery.
"I knew that was impossible from the very beginning. Based on my experience dealing with these dark creatures over decades of Auror work, they understand fear quite well, they understand power and dominance.
But they will never understand gratitude or obligation. Those are human concepts, foreign to their nature. I needed it resurrected because only then could the curse be lifted, only its power could undo what it had done. But at the same time, I had to ensure I wouldn't fall into even deeper trouble because of it, wouldn't trade one prison for another worse one."
"So, you planned from the start to use magic to control this vampire when resurrecting it? To turn it into your puppet rather than your savior?"
Amelia couldn't help but ask, the pieces were clicking together in her mind with clarity.
"Ordinary magic couldn't possibly accomplish this, don't be naive," Graves said dismissively. "My grandfather's unfortunate experience at Grindelwald's hands taught me to never underestimate powerful magical beings. I had to be absolutely foolproof, had to account for every possibility."
Graves smiled coldly.
"I knew that controlling a dark creature many times more powerful than myself, something that had lived for centuries, wasn't so simple as casting a few binding spells. I might very well be sending myself into an even deeper abyss than the curse.
For some time after learning of the vampires' plan, after agreeing to help them, I was deeply troubled by this problem. I pored through many ancient magical texts, searching for powerful magic lost to history, seeking something, anything that could help me maintain control.
But the results were consistently disappointing. I ultimately found nothing of use in American magical archives until I went to Britain—"
"Britain?"
Amelia said in surprise, her eyes widening. But she immediately understood, memory connecting to earlier information. "You went to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to find a way to contain the curse?"
Graves nodded appreciatively at her quick understanding.
"Precisely. But St. Mungo's was equally disappointing in the end—their healers, despite their international reputation, were no more effective than St. Josiah's staff. They made the exact same diagnosis, offered the same grim prediction.
After lingering there for some days, consulting with their best curse-breakers, I didn't intend to waste more precious time. Just before leaving Britain to return home empty-handed, I suddenly thought of something: if I'd been struck by powerful dark magic, might there not be some equally powerful dark magic that could solve my problem?
Perhaps, sometimes you must fight fire with fire."
He paused then continued.
"To this end, I visited the famous underground wizarding community in London's Knockturn Alley. A place where the desperate go seeking desperate solutions."
On the steel frame suspended in midair above the battlefield, Fawkes turned to look at the purple-glowing fang beside him, emitting a low, thoughtful cry.
Miles away in the hotel, Bryan's eyes pierced through the void. His gaze fell on Fawkes's now azure-blue eyes. Contemplating, Bryan nodded slowly in grim understanding.
"—I posted a commission in the underground world," Graves continued, lost in his own narrative, "hoping some knowledgeable wizards, some dealers in forbidden lore, could provide valuable information so I wouldn't have to risk resurrecting a vampire at all. At the time, even considering such sources, I saw it as abandoning my faith, compromising my principles. But the outcome remained disappointing."
His voice took on a tone of bitter mockery.
"Those charlatans only wanted to use lies to swindle Galleons from a desperate man. They sensed my fear, my urgency, and sought to exploit it. But by a twist of fate or perhaps destiny, I unexpectedly obtained an ancient dark magic tome there.
It recorded an immensely powerful dark magic, something revolutionary, that could resolve my concerns about resurrecting the vampire ancestor completely. Moreover, it could truly grant me immortal life!"
"That was—"
Sirius was about to press further, when—
BOOM!
An abrupt, deafening explosion from somewhere above interrupted his question with tremendous force. Everyone instinctively looked up toward the source of the sound with their necks craning, just in time to see white shockwaves from the violent explosion rapidly expanding in midair.
The concussive force washed over everything like a tsunami of pure magical energy, making the air itself shimmer and distort.
Graves also looked up, but sensing something with his newly enhanced magical perception, his expression turned instantly gloomy and dangerous.
"Oh, the Anti-Apparition Charm has been broken. This magical power, this signature—"
Bang—
The shockwave's passage knocked down some heavy beams still suspended in midair, their supports finally giving way. Amidst the thunderous crash as they hit the ground, sending up clouds of dust and debris, another sound rang out.
A gray-haired, thin figure emerged from twisted space. The wizard slowly descended to the floor, robes settling around him, landing without sound despite the distance.
"Bryan!"
Sirius immediately cried out in delight and relief, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. He hurried to Bryan's side despite his exhaustion, nearly stumbling in his haste.
"How did you—oh, was it Fawkes??"
The moment that familiar face came into view, Amelia's breathing stopped for an instant. Then an indescribable sense of relief bloomed in her heart like a flower opening to sunlight, washing away the accumulated terror and desperation of the battle.
The Aurors who recognized who this was and most did, having heard the legends also felt their stretched, frayed nerves finally begin to relax. If Bryan Watson was here, perhaps they weren't doomed after all.
In stark contrast, the vampires grew panicked, shifting restlessly and exchanging worried glances. Agitation rippled through their positions like wind through grass.
Bryan didn't answer Sirius's question immediately, only smiled at him with warm recognition and at Amelia who had run over to join them. His gaze, those deep purple eyes that seemed to see through everything, then fell upon Graves with an expression that was difficult to read.
"Bryan Watson."
Graves's voice turned sinister and cold, all his earlier frenzied joy vanishing. His body tensed like a predator confronting a rival.
"You've been watching all along, monitoring us through some means, haven't you?"
"Is that your final question?"
Bryan's expression was perfectly calm. He looked at Graves with eyes that held something strange and unexpected... something that looked almost like pity.
"Oh, final?"
Graves had already forgotten he'd been in the middle of sharing the secrets of his 'success,' his narrative was interrupted and abandoned. His laughter swelled with sudden rage, as if suffering humiliation, and he roared fiercely:
"You have no idea what great magic I've accomplished! What barriers I've crossed! I have achieved true immortality—not the half-life of vampires or the degraded existence of Inferi, but real, eternal life! My consciousness, my soul, will remain in this world forever! No one, no magic, no force in existence can destroy me now!"
"Has he gone mad?"
Sirius looked at Graves with genuine uncertainty and suspicion, watching the man's increasingly unhinged behavior. "This seems like a mental break—"
"Oh, he hasn't gone mad, not in the medical sense," Bryan said softly. "Only... some beautiful things have left his soul forever."
Bryan looked calmly at the frenzied Graves.
"The world has never lacked ambitious people—it's always been so throughout history. You used the vampire ancestor, a living being with its own soul, as a vessel for a fragment of your own soul.
I must admit, this is a very interesting attempt, creative in its own horrifying way. But also very foolish, very short-sighted. You've damned yourself in ways you don't yet understand. But I must thank you—"
His voice took on a tone of interest.
"You've allowed a conjecture that's existed in my mind for a long time, a theoretical possibility I wasn't sure could actually be realized in practice, to be tested. You've proven something I needed to know."
"You're mocking me, Watson!"
Graves stared at Bryan with vicious eyes that blazed with rage and hurt pride, his hands were trembling.
"You dare to diminish my achievement—"
"But what exactly is it?"
An old, surprisingly aged voice spoke. Fawkes flapped its wings and landed on Bryan's shoulder in a flutter.
Under Sirius's absolutely stunned gaze, his jaw literally dropping open in shock, Fawkes tilted its head. Unable to suppress its obvious curiosity, the phoenix stared at Bryan.
"What have you figured out, Bryan?" The phoenix spoke. "Is it related to him?"
————————————
For More Chapters; patreon.com/FicFrenzy