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London
–Damian Hawthorne–
He was still stuck on the statement when the alpha vampire, he really had to put names to these people, fizzled into darkness, and tried to escape, only to get hit by the triple combo of his shields being burrowed into the ground, the minor anti teleportation wards he had put up, and the reemergence of the sunlights behind him.
All in all, he was left with a twitching, burning, smoking, piece of vampire in front of him. He sighed as the lights switched off, and then he had to stand there and wait for the stupid vampire to regenerate.
After an excruciatingly long minute, the vampire finally healed but stayed sprawled on the ground.
"Now, why don't you talk?"
…..
…
..
And the more he talked, the angrier he grew. The urge to just blast all of them into oblivion grew further as he realised what they planned on doing.
"CALL IT OFF," He spat out with gritted teeth, his hand covered in a purple glow, ready to just eviscerate these people, once and for all. Only the fact that they could still be useful kept him restrained.
By now, all three of them had healed from the flashbang he had subjected them to, but even so, the other two remained oddly submissive to the one who looked at him with a creepy smile on his face, his magic twitching as..
He just sighed, closing his eyes as he felt the veritable explosion of magic in front of him, engulfing the other two vampires as well. The other two chose to blow up as well, or maybe someone did it for them. It didn't matter.
At the end of it all, he was left with a pile of ashes since the explosion was not strong enough to escape the forcefield. There was nothing left of them, aside from magically inert ashes. He checked with his senses.
Resigned, he snapped his fingers, turning the entire enchanted alley space back into what it was, let his magic wash over the alley, retrieved the specialised forcefield anchors, let the explosion stones burn to slag before floating up smoothly, his destination set.
4 Privet Drive.
___xx___
His face was set in an ugly frown as he moved at a blistering rate, his senses allowing him to see the ugly picture the fucking vampires had painted for him.
They were here for Harry. Somehow, Harry's location was leaked to them, because Dumbledore took time out of his busy schedule to regularly tutor Harry in magic. People took notice when the so-called strongest wizard of Europe moved to train a wizard.
'There have been reports of Dumbledore spending his time training a child of Prophecy. The coven has demanded the child.'
Ice had flooded his veins at that, and the only reason he had kept the vampire alive was to see if he could order the thralls to back off, because the strategy was still unclear to him. If the goal was just Harry, why do something that could potentially raise war crisis levels of response from both Kamar Taj and the Ministry of Magic?
Why risk this much backlash, especially since their global reputation was already in tatters, if just a couple of well placed vampires could do the job?
Was it because of the Blood wards? Did they know something that he did not?
All these questions swirled in his mind as he arrived at the Dursley residence, noting the far fancier car parked in the driveway. Stealth still on, he disregarded the slight risk of Dumbledore sensing his magic and coming on a warpath here and checked if anyone was home.
The Blood wards interfered with his ability to sense magic remotely, despite getting so close that he was almost touching the windows, he could feel nothing. So, he used his other senses.
There were no major noises from inside the house, the lights were not on and it was not really that late into the night, so that was a bad sign. He could hear the subtle hum of the refrigerator's compressor working, some exhaust fan with its tinny noise, and nothing else.
He slumped as he realised what had happened, and what the next steps would be. He was not looking forward to this meeting once more.
Still, he had no time to waste here. Soon, he was standing in front of Figg's front door. He sensed her weak magical signature, evidence of her Squib nature, inside the house with no other magical, squib, or otherwise, which made sense since she lived all by herself.
Likely some cats as well, but none of the magical variety, as he raised his knuckles and knocked the door firmly. He was out of his visible stealth, and had a notice me not charm on the property, which was very easy to learn once he had access to the appropriate books.
It was not even that late into the night, evidenced by the likely excursion of the Dursley family, but the house had already gone dark, meaning that the squib who was supposed to keep a watch on Harry was already asleep.
Pathetic.
That Dumbledore couldn't even secure a single full time competent wizard to keep watch over his Golden Boy, instead having to rely on a wholly unreliable squib, who was just not of the right mindset and also not capable of doing anything if the situation called for it.
He fidgeted on the spot as he heard some movement from the house, his senses cataloguing and moving past the number of thralls he had sensed so far, going beyond the hundred number, which only made his anger rise over it. All of these people, their lives ruined, their entire physiologies violated, permanently, and for what?
For Harry? For some mythical blood of the Child of Prophecy that they needed?
Finally, the door opened and since he had no patience for anything left, he spoke, no, growled out, "Contact Dumbledore. Harry is in danger."
And that was that.
Oh, she bumbled, acted confused, was probably confused, but he reiterated his point, and he had a hunch that she did not recognise him at all, which was incredibly foolish on Dumbledore's part, not to educate one of his people on the newest threat to grace the British Isles was truly the hallmark of stupidity.
As he'd expected, and sensed earlier on, she had no Floo system to speak of, but had some minor magical artifact that likely alerted Dumbledore. Truthfully, he expected Dumbledore to have some other tracking mechanism in place around this place, rigged to alert him if any magical came here, but judging by his other decisions, he did not put much faith in that, forcing him to bother Figgs.
Truthfully, had it not been for the Dursleys' rather famous detachment from their neighbours and overall nonexistent social life, he would have started knocking on other doors as well, in a much less intimidating visage, but he would have done that nonetheless.
Speaking of intimidating, it was a conscious effort on his part to expand his height to just over five and a half feet to hide his still chibi body from anyone he might get into combat with.
He could feel the spike of magic inside the house, from whatever artifact Figgs had just used to alter either Dumbledore or the Aurors, with the former being the more likely option. With that done, he tried not to let the horrible thoughts enter his mind and stood in the middle of the overgrown and uncared for lawn, waiting for Dumbledore.
Presentation was just as important, as told by Megamind-sama, so all the hours spent on creating and perfecting the feedback system that worked on the slightest hint of response from his feet, was definitely worth it.
Within a minute of Figgs ringing the alarm, he felt the telltale signs of burning magic boring a hole through space as, with a brilliant haze of fire, Dumbledore spawned in with his familiar and trusty Phoenix by his side, wand in hand. Thankfully, not the Elder kind, though it was likely on his person somewhere.
His hand snapped up as a familiar shield stopped a stunner, which was likely fired on instinct because he was pretty sure that Dumbledore would be using a lot more powerful spells if he saw the Giant Killer in front of him.
So, before the scary old White Lord could do that, he raised his hand in a pacifying gesture, though the action meant nothing if he truly wanted to try something. The perks of not needing a wand, even for his most offensive abilities, unlike Dumbles or Volde-boy, who could make down without a wand but needed it for their best spells.
"Wait. I am the one who made her call for you." He said, beginning to explain, only for Dumbledore to take one look behind him, in the direction of the Dursley house, see something that absolutely made him lose his mind as he then turned around and thundered at him, beard flying and all.
"Where is Harry?!"
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