A/N: Just to clear it up, Vesper isn't actually the name of a true Fallen angel. It was a suggestion by Jon, well, something similar to something Jon suggested that I misinterpreted.
“So, what's the deal with the curse?” Harry asked Meciel later that night, mumbling through a mouthful of vegetables and steak. “Not that I didn't like it or anything, in fact, good on you. Here, have a steak.”
“I'll pass,” Meciel said in amusement from across the kitchen table. Above her hovered a ball of flames that blazed with Hellfire and the raw scent of sulphur, illuminating the entire kitchen. It didn't take much on Meciel's part to eliminate the actual scent receptors that detected sulphur and allow Harry to eat his dinner with ease.
“As for the curse, well,” said Meciel, and she smiled coldly. “Vesper and I have a history. We were allies for the greater part of three centuries.”
“How'd that work out for you?” Harry asked lightly.
“I discovered that she planned to betray me and struck her down when she least expected it,” Meciel answered and a dark smile grew on her face. Harry blinked as her seemingly-angelic appearance flickered with an inner darkness. “I drew upon several sources of power available to me at the time and cursed the very metal that the coin had been forged with. In the end, Vesper was cursed to suffer through pain and hideousness for the rest of her time in the mortal world. Every host she takes will rot away from the inside and every time this happens, Vesper will feel an excruciating amount of pain.”
“Wow,” Harry uttered and stared at Meciel with a new respect. “I thought the Denarian coins were pretty much indestructible. Wasn't…um…that volcano that blew up that Roman place….wasn't that because somebody tried to destroy one of the coins?”
“Indeed,” Meciel said and smiled chillingly. “It took great effort and set me back several years. But every time I visualise Vesper's rotting body, I know that it was worth it.”
“You're a vindictive bitch,” Harry murmured and a grin crossed his face. “Cool.”
“I despise betrayal,” Meciel said simply. “When I make an alliance with another, I expect them to honour their part. Those who do not will face the full fury of my wrath.”
“So,” Harry said after a moment's silence, staring at Meciel with a trace of mischievousness on his face. “What's my part in our alliance?”
“Excuse me?” Meciel said and true surprise flickered on her face. Harry's grin faded as she stared at him with an emotion he couldn't identify.
“You just said that you expect people to honour their parts when they make an alliance,” Harry said with a careless shrug. “We have made an alliance. You've given me power, magic, skills, friendship, family even. What do you expect from me?”
“You surprise me, beloved,” Meciel said after a moment's pause, her voice flat and without emotion. Her face shifted and Harry fidgeted under her gaze as she looked at him, her expression utterly inhuman.
“I didn't mean it like that,” Harry protested, raising his hand and trying to placate her. “I just meant, what do you want from me? I know you want me to become powerful and all that crap, but there's got to be something else.”
Meciel stared at him with hollow silver eyes and for a moment Harry feared he had offended her. His irritation and anger grew and just when he was about to snap at her, Meciel's face softened.
“For now, you first priority should be your education,” Meciel said quietly. “Learn all that you can from me. Learn how to wield powerful magic. Learn how to wield your new sword. I am patient, beloved. I will wait for you to grow your skills, just as I have waited for all my hosts.”
“And then what?” Harry pressed on, genuinely curious. “After I've got the power and skills that you need, then what do you want me to do?”
“I have a number of goals,” Meciel said evasively. She gave Harry a proud smile, her silver eyes flickering with affection. “You have already completed a number of them, for example, the death of Nicodemus.”
“You want me to take care of the Order of the Blackened Denarius,” Harry deduced without any hint of surprise in his voice. He raised his eyebrows. “Why am I not surprised?”
“One thing at a time, beloved,” Meciel purred softly. “One thing at a time…”
Suddenly a flash of light and a low rumbling noise interrupted Harry's conversation. He frowned and his head shot around as another low rumble filled the room. The plate and glass on his table rattled together and a high-pitched scream of pain echoed in his apartment.
“What the fuck?” Harry snarled and jumped up onto his feet. Adrenaline and Hellfire surged through his veins as he burst into the living room, his eyes glinting with anger as he took in the walls surrounding him.
Over the years, sometimes as part of Meciel's training regime and sometimes for his own sense of safety, Harry had carved dozens, if not hundreds, of runes into the walls of his apartment. Through these wards, Harry, mostly through Meciel, had created several different wards to obscure, hide and, if it called for, defend his home from attack. As Harry looked around, he could see every single one of these runs glowing with the Hellfire Harry had embedded into them as a hostile party repeatedly attempted to bring them down.
“Shit!” Harry cursed loudly and glared at his front door. Although there were wards that would protect the actual door from physical and magical attack, Harry didn't expect them to last long.
'Who is it?' Meciel demanded, her voice brewing with a mixture of fury and puzzlement. 'Who is attacking us?”
“Oh, I'll give you two clues,” Harry snarled as he strode across the room, approaching one of the walls. “We met her tonight and she's an anorexic whore!”
'She may have followed us from the club,' Meciel hissed and Harry felt a great surge of hatred rise up from her. Rather than blocking it off, he embraced it and allowed Hellfire to infuse his very body.
“Impossible,” He growled as he reached the wall. “I apparate three times and took a portkey back here!”
'Yet we are under attack!' Meciel growled back furiously. 'Use the Eye! See who is attacking us!'
Harry's vision narrowed down on one particular rune, a small half-circle glowing with a light subtly different than the others. He pressed his thumb down on it and braced himself. Unseen to the attackers, what seemed like a vague scratching on the wall suddenly glowed with the same green light.
Something in his vision flashed and suddenly, Harry had a third eyeball. To a normal human, the extra sensory input would be extremely confusing and disorientating. Luckily for Harry, Meciel was able to process the extra data with ease and interpret it.
Dusty hallway…paint peeling from the walls…creaky floor…a flash of movement…beautiful man with blonde hair …pale skin morphed into oily leather…eyes absent of all conscious thought…without making a noise, the creature lurched forward….struck an invisible wall…a flash of light, similar to lightning…a low rumble, akin to thunder….crispy, smoking corpse falls backwards….another man stepped forward…
Harry yanked his thumb away from the rune and shook his head dazedly, blinking rapidly. The images flashed through his mind once more and he gave a small groan as he recognised the creature.
“Great, just great,” He muttered sourly. “They're Red Court vampires! Twenty bucks says that they're pissed over that job I took.”
'There was a vampire in the club today,' Meciel reminded quickly. 'Nonetheless, we need to leave.'
“Agreed,” Harry muttered grimly. He quickly strode into his bedroom and, with a wave of his wand, started packing the essentials.
Books flew into a small battered suitcase, somehow fitting into the small physical space with ease. The sack of gold that Dumbledore had left him flew from one of his drawers, as well as a few other small knick-knacks. Harry closed his suitcase with a small flick of his wand and glanced around the room regretfully.
“Can't we…” He began.
'We should leave now,' Meciel said firmly. 'Silk sheets and fur rugs can be replaced. Our lives cannot.'
Harry exhaled loudly but flicked his wand. The suitcase soared from the bed, flipped around a few times and shrunk down to the size of a wallet. Harry tucked it into his back pocket and aimed his wand at his velvet curtains.
“Evertoxuro!” Harry barked. Hellfire flashed through his wand and enhanced the jet of flames that sprayed from the tip. The curtains shimmered as Harry's weak standard flame-repelling charms broke apart against the surge of dark magic.
Harry dropped his wand and watched with regret as his curtains went up in flames. Knowing that the room would shortly be consumed, he whirled around and left the room for the last time. He strode into the living room and glanced around, his eyes assessing anything and everything that could be traced to him, magically or physically. His wand swished through the air and suddenly the dirty plates and glasses exploded, removing any trace of saliva. The next spell saw his summoning circle, where he had spent hours pouring his magic in various true-magic rituals and summons, cracked and broken.
After a few minutes of distant rumbles and flares of light as vampires hurled themselves against the deadly wards, Harry had almost finished cleaning up after himself. Suddenly, a loud screeching noise filled the air and Harry winced, clasping his hand over his ears. His head shot to his wall and saw that over half of the runes had stopped glowing and the other half had weakened. A moment later, something slammed against his door.
“Okay, time to leave,” Harry muttered and took a deep breath. With his wand in one hand and the cane in the other, he twirled on his feet and disapparated from the room.
Or he would have had he not brushed against a foreign ward. Suddenly his body was full of hostile energy and pain wracked through his mind. He abruptly slammed back into the real world and fell to the living room floor, twitching painfully with a grimace.
“Ouch,” He groaned and attempted to stand, a soft groan escaping his throat. “I don't want to guess or anything, but I think they might, and I say might, have a ward up.”
'Very observant,' Meciel said dryly. Harry could feel her mind quickly running through his options, moving at a speed far greater than Harry could comprehend. 'The attackers have prepared themselves well. This is a specific anti-apparition ward. That is a wand-wizard ward, beloved.'
“Dumbledore!” Harry snarled softly and hatred flared in his mind. He gripped his wand tightly in his hand and his eyes glittered with fury. “That backstabbing old bastard!”
'I doubt that Dumbledore would ever make an alliance with the vampires,' Meciel said shrewdly. 'Nonetheless, it doesn't matter at the moment. Our primary concern must be to escape. Try making a portkey, but I have no doubt that it will fail. You will probably need to fight your way out of this.'
Harry took a deep breath and tried to make a portkey. The clean mug he had chosen didn't glow in the customary blue light of a newly made portkey and the spell failed to take hold. Growling in irritation, Harry flung the fork to the side and glared at his door. The sturdy wood was shuddering under the force of the blows but the final wards that held them together were holding, for the moment.
“I say we activate the 'Get-The-Fuck-Out' trap,” Harry said grimly.
'I presume you are talking about the Fire Alarm,' Meciel said with a sigh. 'Be warned, beloved. That will siphon any remaining power from our wards. We may kill the vampires in the hallway but there could be other's away. If we wait until the wards are almost depleted, we might be able to lure the enemy in.'
“Whoever put that ward up without me detecting it is powerful,” Harry disagreed, He gestured to one of the inactive runes on his wall. “If they're any good, this won't really hurt them much. I say we do it now and run while we can.”
'My, you do have some brains in here,' Meciel murmured, sounding impressed. 'Very well. Activate the Fire Alarm.'
Harry allowed a cold smirk to cross his face as he pressed his thumb to the rune. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and grasped Hellfire. Liquid power roared into him in a cascading wave of searing heat. Harry embraced it and took in more and more until it felt as if he was going to explode. He was full of fire; he was full of surging darkness. Within his mind, Meciel took over and grasped the Hellfire. With a delicacy that Harry could only envy, Meciel fed the Hellfire into the rune at a steady, constant rate and it glowed with a scarlet, hellish light.
In the hallway, two dozen or so vampires milled in front of Harry's door, their eyes blank as they slammed against his apartment. They failed to notice that there were more sprinklers nestled on the roof than normal and that small runes started to flicker. After a few moment's, the sprinkler's let out a hissing noise and started to spray the vampires. Instead of water, however, droplets of glowing, scarlet of fire drizzled over the crowd. Flesh sizzled as fire scorched through skin and clothing yet the vampires remained motionless. A moment later, the drizzle turned into a fully-blown shower and the hallway was full of blazing, blinding flames. Some of the vampires shrieked in agony as they were engulfed by fire and some remained silent, but all were vaporised in no more than a minute. The fire continued to rain from the roof for a few more moments before the sprinklers themselves were consumed and the spell broken, the fire disappearing.
Inside the apartment, Harry felt Meciel gently withdraw the enormous amount of Hellfire roaring through his body and return control back to him. A wave of fatigue slammed against his mind and Harry winced, rubbing his head and staggering up from his crouched position. Despite the strain of that spell, his eyes were alert and wary as he glanced at the suddenly motionless door and listened to the silent hallway.
“I think they couldn't handle the…heat,” Harry said with an impish grin and flashed a smile when Meciel groaned.
'Beloved…'
“It looks like fire sprinklers really do save lives. Mine, that is,” Harry continued, standing up and gripping his wand and cane. He took a few, cautious steps to the door and frowned, listening carefully. There was nothing.
'Take care, beloved, that you never lose your mind in the…heat…of the moment,' Meciel said after a moments pause.
“Oh snap,” Harry uttered quickly, blinking surprise. “I didn't know you were that corny, Meciel.”
'You've rubbed off on me,' Meciel remarked dryly. 'Can we leave now?'
Harry nodded and raised his wand. Although he uttered no words, a blast of pure kinetic force exploded forward and slammed into the door. The wards, recognising Harry's magic, failed to stop the spell and the door exploded off its hinges and out into the hallway.
Harry was quick to move, striding forward and levelling his wand down one end of the hallway, his head swivelling around to peer down the other. The walls were gritty with black scorches and the hallway was hazy with smoke. A strong scene of sulphur filled the air and small fires flickered in the darkened hallway, providing a dim, ominous light. Harry suddenly got a strange, foreboding feeling deep in his gut and when he turned his head back to look down the other end, there was somebody standing there.
Clad in dark robes, a pale-skinned, slit-nosed man stood there, staring at Harry with gleaming crimson eyes. With a yew wand clasped in his hand and looking utterly confident in his own power, Lord Voldemort gave Harry a chilling smile and raised his wand, his serpentine voice hissing out two words with great hatred and malice.
'Avada Kedavra!'
Harry's reflexes were impressive on their own. With Meciel enhancing the neural activity within his brains, he could flick his wand faster than the human eye could properly see.
Voldemort was faster.
Power reverberated through the hallway as a sickly streak of green light blasted forward. A howl of a roaring wind shrieked through the hallway as Harry, dark power glinting in his eye, responded a millisecond later. A crackling bolt of sapphire energy blasted forward with a noise reminiscent of a thunderclap. Before either wizard knew what was happening, the two curses had slammed into each other and suddenly there was a loud crack of power and Harry's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge was surging through it.
'Prior Incantatem!' Meciel hissed. 'Hold it as long as you can! We cannot let Voldemort gain a magical advantage over us!'
A narrow beam of golden light was connecting the tips of the two wands from the giant sparkling orb of clashing magic in the middle. Giant lightning-like jolts sparked off the orb, destructive magic tearing through the walls. Bricks shattered and dust flittered from the roof as the hallway became filled with a blinding light. Golden fire flickered into existence and raged in tandem with a haunting, melodious song that broke into existence. The very notes of the music sent lances of unease, and perhaps even fear, down Harry's back but he ignored it as he tightened his grip, panting in the effort of pushing forward.
Voldemort was glaring at him, his eyes aflame with hatred and bewilderment. Harry stared back with furious emerald eyes until he had to look away as the light became even more blinding as more and more golden fire roared into existence. The floor was creaking madly, the walls shuddering and the roof being torn to pieces.
In the middle of the hallway, the orb of golden power had paused between them and was glowing like a miniature sun, straining as both wizards poured their will and power into it. Voldemort had the edge on power, dark, misty shadows warping over his thin, sickly form. His dark robes flapped around him madly and his serpentine-like slits flared with anger. On the other side, Harry had the advantage of Meciel's will, which, merely by itself was enormous. Slowly, Harry poured Hellfire, determination and Meciel's ancient fury into the golden orb and watched with grim satisfaction as another lightning-like bolt zapped from the orb, scorching past Voldemort's head as the orb slowly moved towards the Dark Lord.
Fire jutted out from the orb, spreading across the hallway like a wave of golden air mist. The walls shuddered, dust and mortar creaking from the loose bricks and a section of the roof groaned as it crumbled downwards and was consumed by golden fire. Voldemort was frowning, the wand vibrating madly in his hands, and his crimson eyes were wide with astonishment. Hatred radiated off his very being but Harry could feel the stirring of fear and took satisfaction from it.
“Take that, fuck-face!” Harry snarled and took a strained step forward, thrusting his wand closer to the golden orb.
The orb shuddered and Harry could smell sulphur as it was pushed towards Voldemort with a rush of golden flames. There was a loud blasting souse as red and gold lightning branched out of the beam of light. Harry's hair was tingling and he gritted his teeth as Voldemort responded with a blast of awesome power.
Suddenly Voldemort smiled, baring his sharp, pointed teeth and with an intense look of concentration on his face, removed his hands from his wand. Harry blinked in astonishment as the wand hovered in place, the golden light still pouring from the tip and connecting to the orb. Almost instantly, the resistance Harry was encountering lessened but did not disappear- Voldemort was somehow maintaining his connection with his wand.
“What the hell!” Harry snarled, his eyes widening as fear stirred in his heart. Hellfire poured through his veins and he could hear the furious beating of his heart as he began to force the orb closer and closer to Voldemort's wand.
But the Dark Lord merely smiled and clasped his hand. His crimson eyes closed in concentration and, with a loud bestial roar, his hands flew out with great force and slammed into the two walls on either side of him. Harry felt a blast of power and stared with wide eyes as the walls shuddered with an unknown spell. Suddenly they were crumbling and falling apart, a large crack shooting down the hallway, smaller cracks branching off it as bricks fell to the ground.
Harry's eyes widened and he only had seconds to move as he, with all of his strength, yanked his wand out of the connection. It was only because Voldemort had a limited control over his wand that Harry was able to break the connection, but break it he did and for a single instant, golden fire raged uncontrollably. Meciel whispered instructions into Harry's unconscious mind that he automatically followed and he flicked his wand, forcing all of his concentration and power into a shield that encompassed the entire hall.
Sparkling blue and green hues formed a transparent, air-tight barrier in front of him as Harry, frowning in concentration, summoned the golden flames towards him. In a furious gale, the fire flew towards him and battered against his shield, squeezing around it, filling in every single crevice and forming a second layer. An instant later, Harry weakened the grip of the shield and suddenly he was blown off his feet as he was struck by the pressure of the fire, landing ten metres backwards and wincing as a few loose flashes of flame struck his exposed skin.
In the two seconds this had taken, Voldemort's spell was tearing through the walls. Bricks crumbled and mortar created a dusty haze through the air. The spell reached the walls around Harry and burst out just as Harry was launched from his feet. Two blinding bolts of azure magic burst from the walls and collided with each other just where Harry had been standing a minute ago. There was a flash of light and a burst of sonic energy as a dull, thumping detonation tore through the roof, walls and floor. A terrible groaning noise filled the hallway as the roof collapsed a second later, filling the corridor with dust, dirt and debris.
Suddenly silence reigned where deafening noise had once been. Harry coughed from his position on the floor and staggered up, his eyes blinking as the last vestiges of golden fire faded away. His ears were ringing and Hellfire was pumping into his body at great rates, almost begging to be let out.
“Fucking hell,” He gasped, absently dusting himself off. Smoke had filled the air and the stench of both sulphur and dust had filled his nose. “I guess it wasn't Dumbledore.”
'The wards are still up!' Meciel hissed urgently. 'Quickly, take the fire escape stairway and flee before he breaks through!'
Just as she finished speaking, the debris let out a low groaning noise and shuddered. Harry's eyes widened as he sensed the formation of a blast of power and his wand whipped up just in time. The debris suddenly exploded outwards, eerie cobalt light glowing from the cracks and crevices of the flaming pile, and shot towards him in a shower of shrapnel and light.
A red flash spilled from the runes on his wand as Harry barked “caveo!” and fell into a duelling stance, shifting his shoulder forward. A hazy ripple of sea-green light spilled from the tip of his wand and provided a small glow of light. As the debris tumbled down the hallway towards him, it struck the glowing light and suddenly swerved to avoid him. Wooden planks, broken bricks flew past him. Harry grimaced as one large wooden shard spiralled past him, the sharp edge of the wood slashing at his shoulder.
As the last of the debris rocketed past him, Harry saw Voldemort stalking forward, his eyes filled with malice. He strode towards a gaping hole on the ground and apparently walked on nothing but air to cross it.
“Exturbo Arduro!” Harry growled, thrusting his wand forward. Hellfire spilled out in the form of a scorching blast of flames.
Voldemort didn't even slow down but raised a pale hand, caught the blast of fire and threw it straight back at him. Harry's eyes widened at the manoeuvre but didn't halt in his attack, a powerful devastation curse blasting forward and ripping up floorboards. Voldemort brought his wand up and, with an ease that Harry could only envy, parried the spell to the side. It exploded in a roaring flash of light and suddenly half of the wall was crumbling down.
At the same time, Harry's own blast of fire struck him. Instead of being burnt, the fire broke apart, looped around his body and shot to the side, right into one of the walls. Bricks shattered and fell to the ground as the fire bore into the wall.
“Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort said menacingly.
A streak of deadly green light glided forward at Harry, who, in a single movement, unsheathed the sword from the cane and brought it forward. The sword flared in a burst of holy flames and the jet of dark magic suddenly swerved to the side, as if the sword and the curse were magnetically repulsed.
“Crucio!” Voldemort snapped, his wand blurring through the air. A crack of scarlet light flashed from his wand. “Crucio!”
Both blasts of dark magic shattered apart as they struck the seemingly solid bar of silver flames now in Harry's hand. Voldemort seemed to hesitate then, obviously remembered the last time he had gotten too close to that particular sword.
“Laedo fervefacio!” Harry barked, brandishing his wand like a whip. Light spilled from the runes of his wand as a trail of blazing fire, reeking with sulphur, snapped forward.
The end of the fiery whip gouged through the walls in the cramped hallway and lashed out at Voldemort. The Dark Lord did not look amused and his hand lashed out, gripping the end of the fiery whip and narrowing his eyes in concentration. Suddenly Harry gasped and had to grip his wand tightly as Voldemort tore the spell away from him. Fire blossomed as Voldemort gathered it into his hands. The ball of flames shimmered and grew into a fiery beast in the visage of a leering serpent that Voldemort threw at Harry.
Harry held the sword up like a torch and winced as a burst of holy flames rushed through him. His glove protected his hand from the harmful effects of the blazing sword. The fiery serpent soared and struck the blade, dissolving in a puff of dark, dirty smoke. Voldemort's next spell gouged a large crack in the almost-decimated walls as Harry parried it backwards, halting the beginnings of a golden mist. An instant later, the hall shuddered and every single piece of debris shot at Harry.
Harry took in Voldemort's leering, lipless grin and flaring crimson eyes. Meciel was whispering something into his ear but he ignored it as a strange sensation flooded his body. Without even realising what he was doing, he stepped to the right and spun his body to avoid a piece of broken wood. He ducked; narrowly avoiding a pile of bricks, then jumped up and absently batted a mangled piece of debris from taking his head off his shoulders. For the next few seconds, Harry managed to weave, duck and dodge out of the way of a hundred different flying pieces of debris. His body felt light and his feet were tingling as he suddenly stopped, swinging around to face Voldemort as the last of the debris zoomed past him.
Voldemort was watching with something like shock flittering on his face. The feelings of lightness abruptly vanished and Hellfire roared in to take its place, shaking Harry out of his stupor. The sword, which had been blazing in a blinding beam of silver flames, died down to a small flicker.
'The luck of God,' Meciel murmured, sounding both intrigued and disgusted. 'It appears you really are a Knight.'
Voldemort suddenly took a step backwards, keeping a wary eye on Harry's sword, and swished his wand. Three pieces of debris suddenly hovered from the ground and became swords of darkened steel. With a sadistic grin, Voldemort motioned with his wand and they shot towards Harry with the speed of a bullet. Harry barely had time to bring his sword up as he blocked it and, Hellfire distorting his normal human form, extended two bony, ashen wings and blocked the other two. He took a step backwards as he parried the next three blows and with a roar of defiance, slammed his foot on the ground, preparing his escape.
Voldemort swayed on his feet, his eyes widening with surprise as a wall of fire burst from the ground before him. He swished his wand to remove it just as the fire hissed and clouds of boiling steam shot forward. With a hiss of anger, Voldemort banished both fire and steam and prepared to cast another curse- only to find that Potter had fled, the flaps of his coat disappearing in one of the many holes littering the walls. Voldemort took a step forward just as the sound of breaking glass hit his ears and a moment later, he recognised the loud crack of apparition.
Fury boiled in his veins and Voldemort's eyes flashed as he stood in the battle-scorched hallway, his wand clenched tightly in his hands. His cloak flapped around him as his anger took physical form and he barely heard the soft footsteps that came up behind a few moments later. But heard them he had and he spun around, gathering his formidable powers and preparing to annihilate whoever stood there.
“Well,” Vesper said crisply, her eyes taking in the ruined corridor. She was able to hide her feelings well but Voldemort knew how to read the human body, no matter who was inhabiting it, and he detected a small flash of fear. “I see I've come too late. You should have waited! Instead, you've failed us both!”
“How dare you….” Voldemort hissed dangerously as Vesper strode towards him, walking at the very edges of the gaping hole in the ground and avoiding the sizzling walls, still heated from the amount of fire that had been produced.
“I gave you everything you needed to destroy them,” Vesper snapped, her blue eyes flickering with an odd yellow light. “Where are the vampires that accompanied you? My alliance with the Red Court is tenuous at best and I do not want to have to explain why they're soldiers are dead.”
“They were…dissatisfied with my strategy,” Voldemort said and gave Vesper a lipless smile, a pang of amusement filtering through him. “So I had to use other means to convince them. Sadly, this strategy saw them perish…for a noble cause, of course.”
“You utter fool,” Vesper snarled and Voldemort's eyes flashed with anger. Anger raged within him and he used it to make him strong, flexing his hands and seriously contemplating the death of the being in front of him.
“You are the fool,” He said menacingly. “You had him in your grasp and you let him slip by! You should have killed him when you had the chance!”
“It was at a location whose neutrality is protected by the accords!” Vesper snarled and her skin flushed with unhealthy colour, thick, dark veins surfacing from her once unblemished skin.
“Neutrality be damned!” Voldemort hissed furiously, absently twirling his wand in his hand.
“I agree,” Vesper said coldly, her eyes now completely yellow.
They stared at him with an utterly inhuman look, her vast, ancient years reflected in her cruel, yellow eyes.
Voldemort was not impressed.
“But if I want to build my empire, then I will need allies…to begin with, at least. I may not respect the accords…but they do! I can't afford to alienate them!” Vesper finished tightly.
“So far, you have not proven yourself to be worthy of my ally,” Voldemort said coldly and his eyes raked over Vesper's form with derision. “Perhaps the time will come where I will need to dispose of you.”
“You may try,” Vesper said coldly, brushing away Voldemort's threat as she would a fly. “I suggest that it wait until Potter and Meciel have both been disposed off. Then, Lord Voldemort, we shall see just who will dispose of whom.”
Voldemort straightened and, giving Vesper one last sneer, he twirled on his feet and let his dark power remove him from the hallway, disappearing silently as his disapparated.