Magic, Curses and Gods Amongst Men || HP x JJK

The sun rose over Chateau Delacour, reflecting off the beautiful white walls and filling each room with light. Fleur found herself stretching in bed as the sun hit her face, illuminating her skin. Veela always looked as if they were at their peak of beauty. Even after waking up from a rather terrible nightmare, Fleur appeared as though she could get out of bed and go out into town. Her hair shone like starlight, and her skin glowed, but her eyes were the most dangerous part. They were a soft blue that ran deeper than any ocean.

The more powerful the Veela, the more beautiful she was, and Fleur was certainly powerful.

A common misconception about Veela is that the offspring of one would only be half-Veela, but that isn't quite true. Veela heritage has been a curiosity that has plagued researchers for years. There are many examples of Veela in the wizarding world who have female offspring that do not carry any Veela traits or abilities. It's commonly believed that there is a certain threshold of power a witch must be born with to activate her Veela heritage. This is also why Veela are attracted to strong wizards, as it's through them that their line will continue. This process has prevented Veela from going extinct numerous times, as anyone who carries even a fraction of Veela blood can activate it if they are powerful enough. Once you've activated it, you're a full-blooded Veela.

Fleur's eyes fluttered as she pushed herself up from the bed, her nightdress hanging loosely on her form. Had anyone been there, they would have been greeted with an eyeful of what lay inside. She pushed herself onto her legs, her head still feeling fuzzy. She couldn't remember how she got there. She remembered going to dinner, and then after that, she went outside... because...

"'Arry!" she shouted as she stumbled out of bed, falling to the floor. She was up quickly, however, wrapping a robe around her body and running outside. She went to Harry's room first, not even bothering to knock as she barged the door open. "'Arry!" she shouted again as she looked around, but the room was clearly not slept in. She left the room and headed toward the main dining room. It was morning—perhaps he was having breakfast with the rest of her family. Yet she knew in her heart, based on the conversation she'd had with him last night, that it wasn't true.

Her hopes were dashed as she entered, only seeing her mother and father at the table. Her mother smiled at her. "Good morning, Fleur, come and sit down. You 'ave been asleep for a while," she said.

Fleur's gaze, however, traveled to her father, one that he quickly recognized as anger. "If you were not injured, I would slap you," Fleur said as she sat across from him.

Louis looked at his daughter and sighed. "I am sorry, Fleur, but I had no choice. I had to ask him... we are losing badly, and we need a way to even the odds."

"And why could I not go with 'im? I am strong—stronger than anyone else at Beauxbons," she said, crossing her arms.

"War is not for children, ma petite," Louis said with tired eyes.

"Your father is right, Fleur. Look at what they've done to 'im, the 'arm they've done to his body," Apolline said, her eyes watering slightly. Fleur found it difficult not to look at the stump where his right arm used to be. The healer had said it had been done with a curse, and so it couldn't be healed.

"But... 'Arry is just a boy too. 'E shouldn't be zere either," Fleur said, tears of anger, regret, and frustration spilling over.

"I know, ma petite... Asking Harry to do this for me... it's an unforgivable act, putting a child in a war such as this, and if we win this war, I will hold myself accountable," Louis said in a grim tone.

"Will 'e come 'ome soon?" she asked.

"Of course. 'Arry is more capable than any wizard I've ever met," Apolline said, stepping in.

Fleur nodded. She stood up and left the dining room, heading back upstairs and into her room. Harry being gone, being at war, seemed to suck the life out of her. Now all she wanted to do was go back to sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about the danger he was in and how she wouldn't be there if anything went wrong. She quickly drifted off when her body hit the mattress, despite having only woken up moments before.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Apolline looked at her husband and stroked his face. "You are a good man, Louis. No one will ever doubt that."

Louis smiled weakly at her, but in truth, her words had no effect on him. He didn't believe them.

————————————————————

The mood was tense as night fell around Lacroix. Antoine and his remaining wizards stood together, watching as the shield surrounding their home was battered. It was close to cracking, and yet they could only stand there and do nothing. Monsieur Potter had a plan to draw out the leader of the current detachment, but it meant allowing them to invade. Harry had dealt with most of the monsters when he had first arrived, so they would now mostly be dealing with the dark wizards. Antoine would be lying if he didn't find himself wanting to do just that.

He looked back and saw that his men didn't feel the same way. He saw dozens of men and women who were afraid; they had not seen war before, not all were old enough to remember Grindelwald's first war. "Do not be afraid, my friends," Antoine shouted. "The men out there are nothing but cowards." He gestured to the shield and beyond. "This is your home, where you raise your families, where you work. Do not let this bastard Grindelwald take it away from you!" he shouted.

"Let us show Grindelwald that the French will not be so easily taken!" Antoine roared. This got a roar of approval from the others, all of them raising their wands in cheer. The cracks on the shield started to form an intricate spiderweb, getting bigger and bigger, yet not a man turned to run. All of them stood ready, a spell at the tips of their wands. "For Lacroix!" Antoine shouted as the shield cracked and shattered.

They all raised their wands but found themselves confused as what followed the crash of the barrier was... nothing. The barrage stopped, and all that was left was silence. Antoine swallowed as he looked around. It was dark, a moonless night, and the only lights were the torches covering the town and the magical lights lining the roads. "Stand ready," Antoine instructed as he stepped forward, looking around. His grip tightened on his wand as a bad feeling enveloped him. Why weren't they attacking? What was wrong? What were they planning? Numerous thoughts entered his mind, but all were cast aside when he heard a loud crack.

A dark wizard apparated onto a nearby building, and only a moment later, a sickly purple-colored spell left his wand and flew toward Antoine. His eyes widened, and he barely ducked under the spell in time. It slammed into a stone wall behind him, fizzling the stone and melting it. 'Nasty spell,' Antoine thought to himself. A split second later, his wand was up, and he fired a jet of red magic at the dark wizard, which punched a hole in his chest, sending him falling to the ground.

Cracks started to appear all throughout the town as dark wizards apparated everywhere. Fights started almost immediately, with the French wizards firing spells at them and the dark wizards batting them aside before firing lethal curses. Antoine had to conjure a shield as a sickly yellow spell dissipated over it. He flicked his wrist and banished stones at the dark wizard, twirling his wand again to transfigure the stones into sharp knives. The dark wizard managed to banish most of them, but a few made it through, one piercing his throat, causing blood to gush as he clutched at it.

Spells were continuously exchanged between both groups, and both sides were taking losses. The village, which had only recently been repaired, was quickly becoming rubble again as buildings were blown apart and used for transfiguration. Lacroix wizards were hit with nasty curses that made their skin melt and their bones liquify, while the dark wizards were struck with deadly spells. A piercing curse to the heart or head did just as much damage as any dark curse.

"AHHHHHH!" Antoine turned as he heard one of his friends scream as he was engulfed in flames. A dark wizard laughed as he conjured powerful flames with both wand and hand. Antoine frowned and guessed that this must have been his Magic Technique. Not every wizard had one, which he found to be a blessing in this moment, but the ones that did were much deadlier than regular wizards. This was why the Pureblood families saw themselves as above others, as they would inherit innate techniques most of the time. For everyone else, it was a 1-in-100 chance to have something, and then a 1-in-10,000 chance that it would be useful.

Antoine fired a Bludgeoning Curse at the wizard, who managed to see it at the last second and shield himself. Antoine analyzed the man as he sent spell after spell at him; it seemed that the man was an amateur when it came to conventional spells and instead relied on his innate technique, which must have been something akin to a natural affinity for fire or something deeper if it allowed him to conjure flames wandlessly. "You will all burn in Grindelwald's name!" the dark wizard shouted as he whipped his wand around, conjuring flames that turned from orange to an even brighter orange, burning the ground and surrounding buildings. The Lacroix wizards had to shield themselves, but even that wasn't enough. These flames were intense, and some of the weaker wizards found their shields shattering under the power, burning them alive.

Antoine channeled a large amount of power for his next spell. He pointed it at the dark wizard and yelled, "Ventus!" A vortex of wind shot from his wand, powerful enough to push him back across the mud. It flew toward the flame-wielding wizard, absorbing the flames that covered the area, creating a flaming vortex that surrounded the dark wizard and some of his companions. While people had a natural resistance to their own magic, it did not make them invincible to it, and the wind only served to stoke the flames, making them hotter. The man's companions screamed as their skin burned and they were reduced to ashes, while the dark wizard roared in pain as his own flames boiled his skin.

However, Antoine was so focused on the spell that he did not see another dark wizard behind him. "Avada Kedavra!" The green jet of light flew toward him, only being stopped by a wall transfigured from the ground. The dark wizard was then beheaded by a slash of red light. Antoine let go of the spell, realizing how close he had come to death. He turned around and saw the snowy white hair of the boy who had saved them. "You need to be aware of your surroundings. Had I not arrived, he would have killed you," Harry said in an emotionless tone. Antoine felt his pride sting, being chastised by a child, but it was offset by the fact that he had been saved by him—and not for the first time.

Harry looked around the battlefield. There were a good number of dead enemies, meaning they would likely start sending the heavy hitters soon. After that, the big boss would come—likely one of the Acolytes. He was looking forward to meeting them, whoever they were. He knew he wasn't a lucky person, but there was one Acolyte he wanted to be here, one that he would strip the skin off and heal just so he could do it again. Macduff, the man who had shot that Piercing Curse at Hannah. The man who had killed her.

Harry would kill him if it was the last thing he ever did.

Harry turned as he heard a man roar. It was the dark wizard capable of conjuring vast amounts of flames—a pretty useful technique, but easily countered. Harry stepped forward as the man prepared to summon flames that were so hot they turned blue. Speaking in the Mermish tongue—which sounded like a screech to everyone else—Harry summoned a wave of water that took the form of a herd of horses galloping toward the wizard. His eyes widened, and he shot all his flames toward the wave, but they were engulfed, and soon so was he. The wizards surrounding Harry were in awe, watching him cast such a powerful spell, especially considering how young he looked. When the water dissipated, the wizard lay on the ground, coughing out water. Harry stepped over him.

"Who is leading you?" he asked calmly.

The man was still choking, his lungs full of water. Harry lifted his hand and slammed down on his abdomen, forcing him to vomit up the water along with everything he had eaten that day. "Who is leading you?" Harry asked, more sternly this time. The man looked up at Harry. "All of you are going to burn. This whole world is going to burn in Grindelwald's flames, and he will remake the world anew," he said, almost fanatically.

Harry wasn't listening. He grabbed the man by the throat, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall. He then took off his blindfold, opening his crystal blue eyes that glowed with the intensity of a star. The man flinched as he made eye contact with Harry. The young wizard wasn't a master at Legilimency—not even an amateur—but his Six Eyes gave him a natural ability for the mind arts, and he broke past the dark wizard's brittle Occlumency shields, searching his mind for the information he wanted. The problem was that each mind was unique, and its structure was only known to the individual. One person's mind could work similarly to another's, or it could be completely different. A master Legilimens would be able to sort through it easily, but someone like Harry had to search blindly.

However, all of this occurred at the speed of thought, and it only took ten seconds in the real world for Harry to get the information he needed. The one leading this assault was Krafft, an important member of Grindelwald's inner circle. So important, in fact, that Grindelwald had left him behind to run things while he and the others assaulted Hogwarts. 'I suppose getting rid of the potion ingredients is important.' He threw the dark wizard to the ground, a pulse of red shooting from his wand and imploding his head. Sadly, he didn't get any useful information about Krafft's abilities. People were afraid of him, but from what Harry had seen in the man's memories, Krafft was mild-mannered and strict. He carried himself like an army officer and only punished those who were lazy or those who had failed.

"What do we do now?" Antoine asked as he approached Harry from behind. They had lost close to a quarter of their forces, but it did not faze them. They all expected to die here. There was no time to grieve their losses—they would all be joining the dead soon enough. Though Harry didn't intend to lose, despite being outnumbered, he would slaughter all of them. He would make them all fear his very existence. Followers of Grindelwald wouldn't even dare utter his name, lest they summon him.

"They'll start sending the stronger wizards. Go to the gardens and protect them. If they can't control them, they'll try to raze them. Stay defensive, keep the wards up, and shield what you can," he instructed.

"What about the ones they send?" Antoine asked.

"I'll handle them," Harry replied. Up until now, he had been watching. He didn't want to join the fight too soon and make it seem like there was an S-Class wizard here. Most wizards wouldn't risk fighting an S-Class, as those fights could go either way, and they would call for reinforcements. Harry didn't think he could fight two Acolytes at once. He hadn't even come close to unlocking his own Domain Expansion. That was a true game-changer. Even if Harry mastered Transfiguration or Charms, if someone laid out their Domain, he would be finished. At the moment, he could only protect himself from it, and even then, he didn't know to what extent.

He did have his own little game-changer, however, in the form of the Philosopher's Stone. It was what made him confident about fighting the Acolytes. He had beaten Abernathy last time, but that was mostly luck and poor decisions on his enemy's part. If Abernathy hadn't underestimated him, he would have been defeated for sure.

Now that they had been led into a false sense of security, they would put more effort into their attack. Skilled wizards, stronger creatures—Harry would crush them and leave Krafft no choice but to face him or be deemed a failure to his master. Something Harry doubted Krafft would ever allow to happen. 'At least Dark Lord followers are predictable,' Harry thought.

Harry then pointed his wand to the sky. "Vigilmorde!" he shouted, and a beam of blue light shot from his wand before exploding in the sky. A massive eye, constructed from blue flames similar to Harry's own, emerged in the sky. It acted as an eye would, looking around with a shining light illuminating the area. This was a spell Harry had created himself, knowing he'd need it for the war. It didn't take long to make, as most of its effects were visual. Just like Voldemort's Morsmordre, this was Harry's mark, but it also carried a slight Legilimens probe that would affect anyone who saw it. When they looked at the eye, they would feel nervous, like they were being watched, like they had been found.

The beam from Harry's wand stopped, yet the eye remained in the sky. "Go now," Harry said to the others as he prepared for the enemy's retaliation. He waved his wand, extending his will over the rubble that covered the streets. "Orklaw Dominous," he whispered. This was a nasty little spell he had found in the Delacour library. It essentially made an object ten times as sharp as it was previously. The effect was temporary and only lasted for five minutes or so, but in the situation Harry was in now, he might as well have transfigured the ground into knives. Should he banish the stones at someone, they would slice through their body. It was an obscure spell, as people found its use limited—or so it was written. Harry, however, was not just anyone.

Cracks started sounding throughout the village, but unlike the first wave, these dark wizards were nowhere to be seen. The first wave had been inexperienced, lower on the hierarchy, with much to prove if they wanted to move up the ladder. This led them to take risks, which inadvertently led to their deaths.

Harry tightened his grip on his wand as he tied his blindfold back around his eyes. He didn't need to use his eyes to know where they were—he could already feel them trying to surround him. The eye must have unnerved them. It wouldn't matter in the end anyway. Harry whipped his wand up and fired an overpowered Bombarda, blowing the building in front of him to pieces. He heard the screams of the man who had been sneaking behind it as shrapnel pierced his skin and the force of the explosion lifted him from his feet, sending him crashing through the wall of another building.

Harry wasn't finished. He swept his wand up, gathering a swarm of enchanted stones, and slashed them toward another building. The stones cut through the structure like butter, impaling two others who had been trying to flank him. "We can play hide and seek all day... well, not all day. I'd say you'll last around five minutes at this rate," Harry said loudly, pointing his wand to his throat.

ROAR

Harry looked toward the darkness, though to him it wasn't an obstacle, and he could see beyond. 'They're sending giants. They must really not like me,' Harry thought to himself. He stowed his wand before putting his hands together.

"Twelve Stars Summoning Maximum Technique: The Bovine King: Asterion."

A flash of white light lit up the village, blinding people—even those behind cover. They heard the thumps before the light died down. The unmistakable sound of hooves digging into the ground reverberated through the air. People trembled, not voluntarily, as what could only be described as a giant figure stomped its hooves. When the light faded, the villagers were greeted by what could only be described as a creature from legend. A massive bipedal bull—over twenty feet tall—similar in appearance to a Minotaur. Its horns curved upward on either side of its head, surrounded by smaller ones that resembled a crooked crown. Its heavily muscular body and fur-covered legs were a sight to behold. The beast roared, shaking the buildings. Harry pointed his wand at the ground; he didn't know a specific spell for this, so he would just have to use raw transfiguration. Not wanting to wear out his body, he tapped into the power of the Philosopher's Stone, red sparks dancing across his body and wand. The earth collected together and formed a large double-sided axe that was first made of stone and dirt but quickly transformed into metal.

Asterion took the axe as it finished forming, smoke blowing from his nostrils. "Kill the trolls," Harry instructed.

"No problem, Boss," the bull mooed as he lumbered down the road. His steps were slow at first, but they quickly quickened, and soon he was charging. The light above illuminated his path and revealed the five giants charging toward the town. All five ranged between twenty and thirty feet tall, with the largest one carrying a club. While Asterion was of similar size, he was simply built differently. He slammed into the first giant, sending it crashing to the earth. The second one threw a fist at him, but the bull turned his head, allowing it to make contact with his horn. A sharp crack echoed out, and the giant roared in pain as bones stuck out of his hand. The scream didn't last long, however, as Asterion swung his axe through the air, decapitating the giant.

Harry was slightly awed. He hadn't seen Taurus' king form yet—this was the first time he was using it. It wasn't like Aries, who focused solely on defense. This was a true titan of physical power. He turned his attention away from the fight, however, as he could see the dark wizards starting to make their move. "About time," Harry said, cracking his neck.

CRACK

One apparated onto a roof, firing a volley of quick spells ranging from stunners to bludgeoning spells to weak hexes. Harry jumped back, pushing magic through his legs. He knew they were trying to set up a trap, and he wouldn't let himself be fooled. He aimed his wand at the building the man stood on. "Bombarda Maxima!" The building exploded into pieces, though the man apparated away onto the ground several feet away. He stumbled upon landing, and Harry took advantage, firing a nasty melting curse. However, it never hit him, as another spell collided with it, dissipating it.

Four wizards appeared next to the man who had first apparated. Harry knew there were a couple more lurking around but paid them no attention, keeping his focus on the main group. Four skilled wizards would put him at a slight disadvantage if he stayed at long range; he would need to get closer to end this quickly. With magic pulsing through his body, Harry stepped forward, rushing toward them. The wizards on the side conjured a wall of flames that blocked either side of Harry's path, limiting his escape route. Meanwhile, the three in the middle fired spell after spell at him. Harry batted away what he could and conjured a shield for the rest. He ducked under one spell before twirling his wand and thrusting it forward, sending a powerful gust of wind that knocked them off balance and sent their spells into the air. He then pointed his wand at the wizard on the far right.

"Fulminos Mortis," he incanted, and with a clap, lightning erupted from his wand, striking the man in the chest and sending him crumpling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

One down, four to go.

Harry didn't hesitate. He slashed his wand sideways, sending a cutting curse at the wizard on the far left's legs. The man jumped over it but wasn't quick enough to avoid the much faster Bludgeoning Curse that slammed into his stomach, sending him crashing through a wall. In less than five seconds, Harry had taken out two of them. Needless to say, the remaining wizards were spooked. They stopped holding back, unleashing their most powerful spells. The strongest among them even cast the Killing Curse. Harry batted away their attacks, dodging the Killing Curse, and rushed closer, hitting one with a Disarming Charm. The man's wand flew out of his hand and into Harry's. Using it, Harry fired a Gouging Curse at another wizard's face. He collapsed as the spell dug into his head, boring through to his brain.

While Harry was dealing with this, he slid under a spell cast by the third man and spun around, sweeping the man's legs out from under him. The disarmed wizard had no choice but to rush at Harry. He had some skill in enhancing his body and tried to throw a punch at Harry.

Harry stepped back, avoiding the punch, then pushed the man on, letting his momentum carry him forward. He then fired a stunner at the man beneath him, hoping these wizards would have better information than the last one. Harry had to duck again as another fist flew over his head. Despite being fast and strong, the wizard had no skill or technique—something Harry had seen often among wizards. Harry stowed his wand away and waited for the man to approach him again. The dark wizard roared as he threw a left punch at Harry. The young wizard pushed it aside before delivering a quick jab to his face. The jab was so fast and strong that the man wasn't even sure how he had been hit. He stumbled for a moment before shaking off the daze and throwing a combination of punches.

Harry didn't know why he was humoring him. It was likely because he was angry and wanted to humiliate the wizard, but he would never admit to being so childish. He stepped inside the man's guard and threw a powerful gut punch, causing the man to double over. He sputtered and coughed, clutching his stomach, but Harry didn't give him any reprieve, smashing his knee into the man's lower jaw, shattering his bottom teeth and most of his top ones. Harry then pressed on, delivering seven punches in less than three seconds, each one hitting with enough force to crack stone.

Harry leaned back, delivering a final front kick that sent the man flying twenty feet away. With the elite wizards dead, Harry hoped that Krafft himself would finally show up on the battlefield.

It seemed he wouldn't be disappointed. Harry looked over at Asterion, who had just finished killing the last of the giants. The bull roared in challenge, slamming his axe into the giant's head, splitting it open like a melon. However, a spell soon hit Asterion, sending him flying toward the city. He crashed into the ground, carving a groove before coming to a stop in front of Harry. "You okay, buddy?" Harry asked.

"Never better..." the bull replied in a strained voice.

"Take five. I'll deal with this one myself," Harry said, dismissing Taurus in a flash of light.

"Your escape from the Pit has reached the ears of many, Mr. Potter," a deep voice said from the dark path down the road. Footsteps echoed closer and closer. Eventually, an old man appeared, dressed in a neat, form-fitting, dark grey outfit. His hair and beard were both grey, and his wand was already in hand. Based on his stance, he knew how to use it.

"Krafft, I presume," Harry said aloud as he stepped forward.

"I am," the man replied.

"I have questions for you about your master," Harry said. He would prefer not to have to sift through the man's memories, but he would if necessary.

"I'm afraid information about my master will go with me to the grave," Krafft replied, his stiff stance growing even stiffer.

"That can be arranged," Harry responded, removing his blindfold and revealing his Six Eyes.

(AN: So I'm back guys don't think I've disappeared I caught a rather nasty flu and so I basically spent the weekend in bed shaking. But I'm feeling better now minus the nasty cough and the headaches. I'm gonna be working on finishing year 1 in the next week. I'll post this chapter now cause I feel a bit bad that you guys waited for so long. Expect more to come, I've had so many plans that have been ruined cause I got sick I was gonna do some work one. Secret project I have but ughhhhhh. Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)

If you like my stuff consider supporting me.

Patreon.com/captainalfie78works