Summer had brought the sun to Greenland's northernmost reaches, and there was nowhere left to hide in the dark.
For weeks, the sun had circled lazily above the horizon, never quite disappearing, merely sinking lower across the sky before beginning its slow ascent once more. Even at what should have been midnight, the mountains were washed in pale gold, their shadows stretching impossibly long across the snow and barren rock. The sea glittered beneath the perpetual light, its surface broken by slabs of ancient ice that drifted silently through the frigid water.
To the native Greenlanders and visiting tourists alike, it was beautiful.
Far beyond the scattered settlements and occasional traces of human life, a narrow valley lay hidden between towering black mountains. No roads ran here, and no lights shone from windows or hearth fires. Nothing disturbed the desolate landscape but the wind, the ice, the stone, and the endless Arctic sky.
And beneath the earth, something was waiting.
A cavern entrance lay concealed beneath a shelf of rock and ice, protected by layers of enchantments reinforced over centuries. No ordinary witch or wizard would have noticed it. Even someone actively searching for it might have passed within a few feet without sensing anything beyond the mountain's natural cold. The Greenlandic vampires had chosen the location for precisely that reason.
They had come north because few places in Europe remained where their kind could live undisturbed. The First Wizarding War had driven them farther from populated lands. At the same time, the Nordic Ministry's increasing interest in their movements had made their ancestral territories increasingly dangerous. Here, beneath the ice, they had found isolation and safety. The clan had survived by staying hidden, letting the world above forget they existed.
Deep inside the cavern, where the rock descended into a labyrinth of tunnels, dozens of vampires slept.
They had no need for coffins. Some rested in stone chambers, others beneath blankets and furs. The oldest among them lay perfectly still in recesses carved into the rock. Their bodies were colder than those of vampires accustomed to warmer climates, their breathing nearly imperceptible as they surrendered to the deep hibernation that sustained them through the endless daylight.
They would awaken when the darkness returned.
Over centuries, they learned to recognize danger's approach. They understood the language of shifting stone, the air's subtle changes, and the unnatural silences that sometimes preceded a threat.
But no footsteps approached their sanctuary. No wandlight pierced the darkness. No warning reached the wards that had protected them for generations.
One of the vampires stirred. His eyes opened, revealing pale blue irises that reflected the faint light filtering through the cavern's enchanted crystals. He had no idea what had disturbed him. For several seconds, he remained motionless, listening. Then he felt it. Something was wrong.
The sensation came from the stone itself, a vibration so faint that a human would not notice it. The vampire sat upright, his expression sharpening as he pressed one hand against the cavern floor.
Across the chamber, another vampire stirred. Then another. Within moments, movement spread through the sleeping chambers. The oldest among them rose slowly from his resting place, his long silver hair falling around his shoulders as he turned toward the distant entrance.
William, the clan's elder, had survived wars, territorial disputes, and the wizarding world's relentless encroachment. He had watched younger vampires rise and fall, buried friends whose names history had long forgotten, and endured centuries of solitude.
Yet for the first time in generations, fear stirred in his crystal-blue eyes.
A whisper crept through the stone. Then another.
The voices seemed to come from deep beneath the mountain, far below even their lowest chambers. At first, they were little more than murmurs, indistinct and distant. But they grew louder, multiplying until the chamber seemed to be filled with the anguished whispers of countless dead.
The vampires recoiled.
Black veins of magic spread across the cavern floor, branching through the stone like the roots of some monstrous, unseen tree. The ground shuddered beneath their feet. A pulse of dark power tore through the mountain, sending rocks tumbling from the ceiling. William staggered, catching himself against the wall.
The first vampire screamed.
His body jerked upright as though an invisible hand had seized him by the spine. He tried to resist, his fingers clawing at the ground, but his limbs moved against his will. His feet carried him toward the entrance. He reached for the wall, his sharp nails scraping uselessly against the stone as he struggled to stop himself.
"Hold him!" William commanded.
Three vampires seized their companion. Then five. They wrapped their arms around his waist and shoulders, dug in their heels, and tried to drag him backward. It made no difference. The force commanding him was stronger than all of them combined.
His body lurched forward, dragging those who clung to him across the stone. One by one, they lost their grip. He stumbled on, his face twisted in helpless terror.
Suddenly, the others understood their sanctuary had become a prison.
The mountain trembled again. Near the entrance, the first vampire began clawing at the ice and rock that concealed their refuge. His sharp nails broke against the frozen surface, but he continued digging with desperate, frantic movements.
Others joined him. They clawed and scratched at the barrier, their moans and cries echoing through the cavern. Blood smeared the ice as their fingers split, yet none could stop.
Only William resisted. He stood frozen in horror, watching as his own people destroyed the very protections that had kept them safe.
Above the mountain, standing beneath the merciless Arctic sun, Lord Voldemort smiled. He had discovered something most wizards would never have considered. Corpses, the undead or otherwise, could serve his purposes. And those who refused to bow to him would be destroyed.
A great slab of ice and rock finally broke away from the entrance before the first beam of sunlight pierced the cavern.
One of the vampires screamed as it struck her arm. Her pale flesh blistered and blackened almost instantly. She tried to retreat, but the magic controlling her body forced her forward. Within seconds, the flesh had burned away, exposing bone to the frigid air.
"Stop!" William roared. He lunged toward his kin, desperately trying to pull them away from the widening breach.
None of them obeyed. They clawed at the barrier with renewed ferocity, tearing away chunks of ice and stone until the open sky exposed the entrance. Their blood ran down the frozen rock in dark crimson rivulets.
The barrier fell. William stumbled backward, retreating into the cavern as sunlight flooded the chamber. His people walked toward it, their faces contorted with terror, their mouths open in wordless screams.
He could do nothing but watch. One by one, they burned.
Their bodies blackened beneath the unnatural sunlight, collapsing into heaps of ash that glittered faintly against the stone.
The screams continued until no one was left to scream.
And above them, Lord Voldemort watched with satisfaction as the last of the Greenlandic vampires crumbled to dust.
Only William remained.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The warning came on the first day of August.
What had promised to be a warm, carefree day with Fred and George quickly turned sinister when Eir Haldorsen arrived in Ottery St. Catchpole.
Eir was a formidable witch in her own right and had swiftly proved herself. She was now one of Cassie's most trusted Saints, recently assigned to guard Stellan's clan overseas, and not supposed to leave her post without a compelling reason.
Cassie knew something terrible had happened the moment she saw her. Her face was pale, her breathing uneven, and she hurried toward Cassie with desperate urgency.
"My Lady," Eir said, bowing her head.
Cassie immediately motioned for her to stand. What use were these gestures of respect if they delayed something that might mean the difference between life and death? "Tell me."
"The vampires," Eir began, her voice trembling. "They were attacked!"
"In Iceland?"
"No." Eir swallowed hard. "In Greenland. The entire clan is dead, save for Elder William. Stellan fears his will be next." For one brief moment, Cassie could only stare at her. Then she was moving.
She led Eir through the cozy cottage, past the sitting room and toward the kitchen. Fred poked his head out of the potions laboratory, took one look at Cassie's expression, and wisely refrained from asking questions. He slipped back inside and quietly closed the door behind him, where George and Severus were working on their latest experiment.
The twins had been helping Severus perfect their newest attempt at Weather in a Bottle. The laboratory was filled with the occasional burst of laughter and the unmistakable smell of something that probably shouldn't have been bubbling quite so vigorously. Whatever amusement the afternoon had promised was forgotten. Fred told the other two wizards what he had seen.
"What happened?" Cassie asked, peering through the kitchen window.
Outside, Boros, in boa constrictor form, stalked rabbits through Severus's garden, his enormous body moving with deceptive grace through the grass.
"We cannot be certain of the details," Eir replied, following Cassie toward the back door. "But Elder William described powerful Dark magic. Something that seized control of the vampires' bodies and forced them to move against their will."
Cassie felt the hairs on her arms rise. "Death Eaters?"
Eir shook her head. "The Dark Lord himself."
Cassie's stomach dropped. They stepped into the garden, where the warm August air felt suddenly suffocating against her skin.
"Elder William said they knew the Dark Lord had been searching for them," Eir continued. "They believed their protections would hold. They never imagined he could reach them beneath the mountain."
Cassie stared at her. "What did he do?"
"He raised them like corpses. He made them walk into the light."
Cassie hissed a quiet command in Parseltongue, and Boros abandoned his hunt to slither toward her. He climbed her body and settled snugly around her shoulders, his heavy coils resting against her like a thick, scaly scarf. She stroked his head, finding comfort in his familiar weight.
It did little to ease the tightening knot in her stomach.
They returned to the cottage. Severus emerged from the laboratory, his sleeves rolled up and his dark hair windswept. He had spent hours with Fred and George trying to perfect their latest invention, and the room's heat left a faint flush on his cheeks.
Under different circumstances, Cassie might have found him distractingly handsome. Now, she could think of nothing but the vampires who had died in the sunlight.
She turned toward the sitting room fireplace, scribbled a message on a scrap of parchment, and tossed it into the flames with a handful of green powder. "Romily's flat!" The fire flashed emerald.
"Cassie," Severus said, approaching her. "What is it?"
She turned to face him. "My father has slaughtered an entire clan of Greenlandic vampires. I have to go."
"No." His answer came so quickly that she almost laughed.
"Severus—"
"No."
She drew a slow breath before repeating, "I have to go."
"You do not have to go personally." His voice had taken on the clipped, controlled tone that usually preceded an argument. "Send your Saints."
"I am sending Saints."
"Then let them go."
Cassie finally met his gaze. For once, she could not read his expression. His dark eyes were guarded, his face carefully composed, and she searched for any sign of what he was thinking. A question rose in her mind, sharp enough to hurt.
Did you know?
She did not ask it. Instead, she reached for his hand. "If you're worried, then come with me." It was more than a suggestion. It was a challenge, an acknowledgment of the one conflict that continuously haunted their marriage.
She expected him to snap at her, to sneer or demand that she stop making unreasonable requests. His commitment to his role as a spy had rarely left room for compromise, especially when she questioned the price they both paid. But today, with Eir and the twins within earshot, he maintained his composure.
"You know I cannot," he murmured. The words were familiar. The exhaustion in his face was not.
Cassie's anger faltered. "Severus—"
She didn't know what she meant to say. Perhaps that she was tired of being the one left to face danger while he remained bound to a role that demanded deception and secrecy. Perhaps she wanted, just once, him to stand beside her without worrying that doing so would compromise his position. Before she could continue, emerald flames erupted from the fireplace.
Romily stepped through, her wand already in hand. "My Lady," the brunette witch said, surveying the room. "What do you require of me?"
"Every available Saint who is unassigned needs to be gathered. Lachlan should be able to arrange a Portkey to Akureyri as soon as you're ready to travel."
Romily's gaze flicked to Severus, then back to Cassie. "You will not wait and travel with us?" Apprehension colored her voice, and for once, Cassie suspected she and the Potions Master might agree if given the chance to discuss it. Unfortunately for both of them, Cassie was in no mood to entertain their objections.
"I'm going now with Eir." She turned toward the twins. George crossed the room and pulled her into a crushing embrace before she could say another word.
"You'll be careful, right?" Fred asked, scratching his head.
Cassie managed a small smile. "Of course. When am I not?" Fred joined his brother, squeezing her so tightly that she could barely breathe.
For a few seconds, Cassie allowed herself to be held between them. The thought of leaving them behind without knowing when she would return made her chest ache.
When the trio finally separated, she turned toward Severus. He had not moved. She closed the remaining distance and buried her face against his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of potion ingredients and the faint, clean fragrance that was uniquely his. "I'll be fine," she whispered. His arms tightened around her.
For a moment, he held her so fiercely she wondered whether he was trying to memorize how she felt or convince himself she would return. Cassie drew back before she could lose her resolve.
She forced herself to keep her eyes forward as she and Eir left the cottage. If she looked back at her husband and the twins, she might falter. She could not afford to, not now.
As she walked away, her heart pounded with the anticipation of what awaited her in Iceland. Yet one thought remained lodged in her mind, refusing to be dismissed.
Severus might have known about her father's plans to exterminate the vampire clans and been forbidden to warn her. A large part of her did not want to know whether that was true.
She pushed the resentment down, forcing it into the same crowded corner of her heart where she kept all the other things she could not afford to confront. It sat uncomfortably beside the immense love she felt for him.
She could not waste precious energy on it. Not when Stellan and his people were waiting for her.
The August sun hung high in the clear blue sky as Eir guided Cassie through the rugged Icelandic terrain.
The landscape was a study in contrasts: jagged black rock, pale moss, distant mountains, and patches of snow lingering where sunlight could not quite reach. The air was crisp enough to sting Cassie's lungs, and the wind carried the faint scent of salt from the distant sea.
This time of year, most Nordic vampires chose to hibernate, much like their murdered Greenlandic kin. Stellan's clan had established itself here long before he was chosen as their leader, drawn by the long winter nights that offered ample hunting opportunities and the unforgiving terrain that made it hard for unwanted visitors to take hold.
Even with Eir leading the way, Cassie doubted she could navigate the area alone. The landscape seemed to repeat itself endlessly, every ridge and rocky outcropping resembling the last. Eventually, they reached the hidden settlement.
The vampires had only recently been roused from their deep slumber, and the sudden disruption to their natural rhythms had left many of them disoriented. Some moved with an almost comical sluggishness.
Nevertheless, they welcomed Cassie with cautious relief. Stellan did not. The towering blond vampire nearly tackled her to the ground.
"You came!" he exclaimed, lifting her clear off her feet in an embrace that threatened to crack several ribs.
"Of course I came!" Cassie managed to choke out.
Stellan's enthusiasm rivaled Hagrid's, which was impressive considering that the vampire had spent several centuries perfecting his ability to intimidate people without saying a word. When he finally set her down, Cassie took a shaky breath and straightened her robes.
Stellan's expression changed. For a moment, the joy of seeing her seemed to disappear beneath the weight of the circumstances that had brought her there.
"They died because they were caught unprepared," he said quietly. "That will not happen here."
Cassie studied him. "If my father comes, he will not find us helpless."
For the first two days, Stellan showed Cassie every nook and cranny of their icy stronghold. It was an extensive network of tunnels and chambers, large enough for the clan to conduct its affairs without exposing itself to the outside world.
Stellan already had an elaborate defensive strategy. He intended to seal every entrance except one and reinforce the remaining passage with layers of protective magic. But the vampires needed help.
Their abrupt awakening disrupted their natural metabolic cycles, leaving many weak, hungry, and lethargic. They moved through the cavern as though intoxicated, struggling to coordinate their movements and react quickly to their surroundings. It was hardly an ideal state in which to prepare for an attack from Lord Voldemort.
On the third day, Cassie sensed Stellan's hunger before she even looked at him. She glanced up from the parchment in her hands to find his icy blue eyes fixed on her neck.
"Stop staring at my neck."
"Apologies, Lady Snape," the vampire replied smoothly. His expression suggested he wasn't sorry. "But it is difficult to ignore the enticing vein just beneath the surface of your porcelain skin, particularly when I have tasted from it before."
Cassie rolled her eyes. Their bond had long since been established, and letting him feed from her was not particularly unusual. Nevertheless, she could not risk losing blood or strength. "You can survive without drinking from me for a little longer."
"Of course." Stellan inclined his head. "Though I reserve the right to complain about it."
"As always."
"And yet you continue to visit me. It is almost as though you enjoy my company."
"Don't push your luck," she warned him. His laughter echoed through the chamber.
The next two weeks became a strange mixture of frantic preparation and uneasy waiting. Fifteen Saints traveled to Iceland to assist their mistress. Together, they transformed the area around the settlement into a fortress. They layered wards over wards, carved protective runes into stone, and set concealed traps along every plausible approach to the cavern.
Cassie and Diolinda spent hours studying every possible route the Dark Lord might take. They debated the limitations of the protective magic surrounding the settlement until they were satisfied that they had accounted for as many possibilities as they could.
They could not prepare for everything. That was the part Cassie hated most.
The Saints who volunteered to be bitten allowed the vampires to drink enough to sustain themselves while they worked. During quieter periods, the wizards hunted reindeer and rabbits. They brought the animals into the cavern so the clan could feed without exhausting its limited reserves. Slowly, the vampires regained their strength.
Cassie, meanwhile, slept very little and ate even less. She found herself thinking about Severus more often than she cared to admit. Each time, the same questions returned.
What else was he keeping from her?
What had Voldemort demanded from him?
What had Severus promised in exchange for the Dark Lord's continued trust?
And if he had known about the massacre in Greenland, how had he endured the knowledge that Stellan's clan might be next?
She had no answers, only suspicions that gnawed at her whenever she allowed herself a moment of stillness.
Romily traveled regularly between Akureyri and Ottery St. Catchpole, carrying messages between Cassie and her husband. Cassie's replies remained brief and carefully worded, offering little beyond the practical information Severus needed to ensure her safety. She could not bring herself to write anything more.
On her third journey back to Iceland, Romily arrived carrying a substantial supply of Nightveil Elixir that Severus had spent countless hours brewing.
The potion was a deep, shimmering purple, so dark it looked almost black in the dark. Tiny silver flecks drifted through it, catching the light whenever the vial was moved.
The vampires' reactions were immediate. Excited exclamations echoed through the settlement. Several younger vampires began arguing over who would get the first doses, while Stellan demanded they show some dignity. He was promptly ignored.
Nightveil Elixir would not make the vampires invincible. It wouldn't protect them from physical injury or any of the consequences of Voldemort's magic. But it would shield them from sunlight long enough to fight back.
Cassie barely noticed the commotion. She stood apart from the others, holding a vial. The glass was smooth and cool beneath her fingers. Not long ago, Severus had held it, carefully measuring ingredients and adjusting the potion until it was ready. She imagined him working through the night, his sleeves rolled up, his expression growing increasingly severe whenever the brew failed to meet his expectations. She imagined him refusing to stop until he had made enough for every vampire in Stellan's clan.
Then, before she could stop herself, she pressed the vial against her cheek. For one brief moment, she let herself pretend it was his hand. She closed her eyes.
Despite the apprehension that had plagued the settlement since her arrival, hope began to spread among the vampires. They gathered around Romily and the other Saints, discussing the potion and what it might mean for their survival.
Cassie heard none of it. She was still holding the glass against her face when Stellan approached.
He said nothing at first. He merely took her hand and gently led her away from the others.
The tunnel they entered was impossibly dark, though Stellan moved through it with the effortless confidence of a creature born to the night. Cassie stumbled once over an uneven patch of stone, earning a quiet chuckle from the vampire as he tightened his grip on her hand.
They reached an empty chamber. Stellan released her, and Cassie immediately lit her wand.
Her breath caught. The wandlight illuminated only part of Stellan's face, casting the rest into shadow. His sharp white fangs gleamed in the pale light. For a moment, Cassie wondered how many meals he had approached in precisely this fashion, lurking in the darkness of a confined space while some unfortunate creature remained unaware of the danger.
"What troubles you, young Cassiopeia?"
She snorted. "Perhaps the impending confrontation with Voldemort."
"No." Stellan shook his head slowly, his icy blue eyes studying her with unsettling precision. "Your father troubles you, certainly. But you are confident in your abilities. You have prepared for this confrontation, and you believe you can survive it."
"How reassuring."
"Your sarcasm is wasted on me, child."
Cassie crossed her arms. "Then perhaps you should stop asking questions you already know the answers to."
"Ah." His fangs flashed in a faint smile. "There she is."
She rolled her eyes. "What is it, then?" she demanded.
"The boy." Despite herself, Cassie laughed. It never failed to amuse her that Stellan consistently called Severus 'boy'. She had long since abandoned trying to explain that her husband was a grown wizard with endless talent.
Cassie's smile slowly faded. There was little point in avoiding the subject. Stellan had spent enough time with her to recognize her moods, and their bond made it difficult to conceal strong emotions from him.
She began slowly, choosing her words carefully. She explained the tension between her and Severus, the secrets his role as a spy brought, and the constant uncertainty of loving someone whose loyalties required him to lie. She tried to be fair to him, but understanding did not mean she had to like it.
As she continued, her words grew faster and more impassioned. By the time she finished, she was no longer sure she had made any sense.
Stellan remained silent. Cassie stared at him, wondering whether he had actually listened or was silently regretting asking about her troubles.
Finally, she sighed. "Am I hopelessly off the mark, Stellan?"
Part of her desperately hoped he would tell her she was being foolish, that Severus had done nothing wrong, and that she was letting fear poison a perfectly healthy marriage.
Stellan offered no such comfort. "I believe the two of you have reached an impasse."
Cassie stared at him. "That's your advice?"
"It is an observation."
"You're centuries old. Surely you have something more useful to offer. What should I do?"
Stellan sighed, and she caught the unmistakable glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "That, my Cassiopeia, is for you to decide."
Cassie let out a frustrated growl. "You're no help."
Stellan chuckled. He lifted one cold hand and gently caught her chin between his fingers. "And what made you think my intention was to help?"
She opened her mouth to retort.
The wards screamed.
The sound tore through the cavern with such force that Cassie felt it in her teeth. She spun toward the tunnel just as the first explosion shook the mountain and stone cracked overhead.
Stellan seized her arm before she could stumble headfirst into the wall.
"Do you have a death wish?" he snarled. He caught her hand again and led her toward the main chamber, where the Saints and the rest of the clan were gathering amid the wailing alarms.
They had anticipated Voldemort's arrival and the assault to come. Yet as another explosion shook the cavern, Cassie felt a cold certainty settle over her. The Dark Lord had come expecting resistance.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, an unwelcome thought surfaced.
Had Severus told him?
She crushed the suspicion before it could take hold. There would be time to hate herself for thinking it later. "Positions!" she shouted.
The Saints scattered with practiced efficiency. Some rushed toward the defensive wards, while others began ushering the vampires toward the inner tunnels.
Several vampires seized their precious vials of Nightveil Elixir, then retreated. Others remained behind, unwilling to abandon their home without a fight.
A streak of red light tore through the darkness overhead. The explosion that followed sent an enormous chunk of breccia crashing to the ground at Cassie's feet.
"He's already penetrated the outer bulwark!" Romily shouted.
The brunette witch stood beside her, wand raised and eyes blazing with determination. Cassie felt a surge of gratitude toward her friend. Anyone elsemight have faltered at the prospect of facing Lord Voldemort. Still, Romily looked ready to tear the mountain apart with her bare hands if necessary.
The cavern shook again. More rock fell from the ceiling.
"At this rate, the vampires won't have to worry about the sun," Diolinda observed grimly. "They'll be crushed when the mountain collapses."
"Now, that's not the attitude I was hoping for," Stellan quipped.
Cassie rounded on him.
"Go with your clan!"
"I'd rather not."
"Stellan—"
"I refuse to cower in the darkness while leaving wizards in charge of my people's fate." His voice was grim, but that familiar, roguish glimmer remained in his eyes. "Besides, I would hate to miss the opportunity to test your husband's abilities." He drew a vial of Nightveil Elixir from his pocket and swallowed it in one gulp. Three of his followers, who had likewise chosen to remain behind, did the same.
Cassie had no time to argue. She ordered the Saints to reinforce the entrance with stone and magic. As they worked, Boros tightened his coils around her shoulders, his scales shifting against her robes.
Another blast tore through the cavern. Cassie braced herself against the wall, trying to sense the nature of the magic attacking them. So far, she detected none of the sinister darkness she expected. Voldemort seemed intent only on breaking through the cavern entrance.
Beside her, Diolinda muttered under her breath, her wand moving rapidly as she examined the weakening wards.
"What is it?" Cassie demanded.
"This is not how Elder William described the assault," Diolinda replied. "The vampires in Greenland destroyed their own barrier from within. They were compelled to tear down the protections that should have kept them safe."
Realization settled over Cassie like a sheet of ice. Her father was not repeating his attack on Greenland. If he was using strategies from the previous war, then he wouldn't be alone.
The conclusion was confirmed seconds later when loud cracks erupted outside the cavern, followed by screams and the unmistakable sound of magical traps triggering. Their carefully laid defenses had begun to claim victims. Cassie hoped they would be enough.
"We can't wait for the barrier to be breached," she said.
"We can defend ourselves better in here," Romily argued.
"We can't." Cassie turned toward the entrance. "In here, Voldemort will kill us where we stand."
"And out there?" Romily demanded. Cassie did not answer.
She had no comforting words to offer, no promise that they would win the battle or that everyone would make it out alive. She could only choose the place where they would make their stand.
After making sure the Saints were ready, Cassie raised her wand toward the barrier. A burst of sizzling white light erupted from its tip, and the enchanted ice and stone shattered within seconds.
The Death Eaters outside shouted in surprise. They had spent several minutes bombarding the barrier with curses, and none expected it to collapse so suddenly.
Nor had they anticipated the furious wave of magic that met them.
The first Death Eater fell before he could understand what had happened. A second crumpled beside him, struck by a curse that sent him sprawling across the rocks.
The Saints surged forward. They moved in pairs, one maintaining a shield while the other unleashed a barrage of hexes. Their magic illuminated the perpetual Arctic daylight in flashes of red, blue, and gold.
More of Voldemort's forces poured from the surrounding terrain, masked faces emerging between the rocks and scattered trees.
There were dozens of them. Then Cassie noticed that not every face was concealed. Some of the wizards and witches wore no masks at all. Voldemort had not merely sent a contingent of Death Eaters to frighten a hidden clan of vampires into submission. He had entrusted this mission to those outside of his innermost circle.
He had come prepared for an army.
Cassie raised her wand. Six opponents attacked at once. She cut through their combined assault with ruthless precision, blocking one curse, redirecting another, and sending its caster crashing into the ground. A third spell narrowly missed her shoulder before she retaliated with a vicious hex that hurled its target backward.
The battlefield erupted around her.
Lachlan fought at her side with brutal efficiency, his movements effective and precise. Romily shouted something Cassie couldn't hear over the explosions, then sent three Death Eaters flying. Diolinda moved through the chaos with the practiced grace of an experienced duelist, her spells striking with frightening accuracy.
Both Saints and Death Eaters fought with extraordinary skill. And still, they began to fall.
Cassie saw one of her followers collapse near the entrance, another clutching a bloodied arm as she stumbled behind a boulder. A Death Eater's curse struck the ground beside Cassie, showering her with rock fragments. There were too many of them.
Stellan joined the fight, and he was terrifying.
The towering vampire moved through the battlefield like a shadow, fast and silent, his fangs and claws flashing whenever an opponent came within reach. A masked witch barely had time to scream before Stellan seized her and tore into her throat.
Cassie barely registered the gruesome sight as her attention had turned to a different problem. She couldn't unleash the full extent of her power without risking consequences she might not control. The protective magic she had woven around the settlement and the lives depending on her demanded restraint.
But restraint would not save them if the battle continued at this pace. She needed another weapon.
With a sharp crack, Cassie Disapparated. The fighting continued without Lady Snape for several frantic minutes. Then she reappeared beside Romily with Boros no longer coiled around her shoulders.
The brunette witch glanced at her mistress, a grim smile crossing her face before she turned to face another approaching Death Eater.
Cassie deflected a curse aimed at her chest and scanned the battlefield. She searched for two familiar figures. The first was her father.
Voldemort had yet to reveal himself, which was hardly surprising. During the First Wizarding War, he often let his followers carry out his bidding while he remained safely out of his enemies' reach.
The second person she searched for was Severus. He would be harder to identify. If he was here, a silver Death Eater mask would be concealing his face.
Cassie could only afford a few seconds before more opponents attacked. She lifted both hands, and the air around her seemed to bend.
A wave of purple and crimson magic exploded outward, sweeping across the battlefield with such force that it hurled several adversaries backward. One struck a tree trunk hard enough to split the wood, sending branches crashing to the ground. The surge left Cassie's fingers tingling.
She barely had time to draw breath before something enormous moved behind her. She turned just as a terrible hiss tore through the air.
Boros emerged from between the jagged rocks.
The basilisk's enormous body slid across the ground, his scales glinting in the Arctic light. His head rose above the combatants, and his deadly eyes fixed on the nearest group of Death Eaters.
For one precious moment, the battle faltered. Then someone screamed, "Basilisk!"
The Saints fell back as Boros struck. Cassie turned away just in time to see a wizard attempt to curse the serpent. The spell bounced harmlessly from Boros's scales and scorched the ground near the attacker's feet.
Boros swung his enormous head. His jaws closed around the unfortunate Death Eater, and blood splattered across the rocks.
Cassie grinned. "Good boy."
Boros hissed in apparent satisfaction before lunging at his next victim.
"Remind me never to make you angry," Stellan said, appearing at her side. Blood covered the vampire from his nose to his torso, though Cassie suspected very little of it was his. She was about to make a sarcastic remark when he abruptly seized her arm.
His expression had changed, and Cassie followed his gaze. Diolinda was locked in a duel with a black-clad, hooded figure.
For one absurd moment, Cassie wondered how she could ever have doubted that she would recognize her husband.
The intricately carved silver mask was unmistakable. Even if she had questioned the visor's familiar shape, his movements would have betrayed him. Severus fought with almost mathematical precision, every spell calculated to put his opponent at a disadvantage. She knew that rhythm. She had watched him duel too many times to mistake it for anyone else's.
The remaining Death Eaters were beginning to retreat. Severus turned to follow them, but Diolinda fired a cleaving hex that passed dangerously close to his neck. He twisted aside, narrowly avoiding the curse, and was forced to turn back toward her.
He would have to engage her or risk being cut down as he retreated.
Cassie stared at them. They were too far away for her to intervene immediately, and she didn't know which one she intended to call to as she took her first few steps toward them. She only knew she could not let either of them win.
If Diolinda killed Severus, Cassie did not know what would become of her.
If Severus killed Diolinda, everything would change.
A loud crack split the air. Lord Voldemort Apparated into the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by a blinding, flickering red light.
The fighting faltered. Within seconds, the entire battlefield seemed to hold its breath. Even the vampires fighting alongside Stellan hesitated, their attention drawn toward the figure standing in the open.
Cassie felt it, too. A dark, ancient pressure descended over the battlefield, as though the very air had thickened around her.
She tore her gaze away from Diolinda and Severus. Her father stood several yards away, his red eyes fixed on the cavern entrance.
Dark runes covered his face and hands. The substance glistened wetly in the unnatural scarlet light. Cassie knew it was blood.
Voldemort raised his hands. His bone-white wand pointed toward the cavern like that of a demonic conductor preparing to begin the deadliest symphony imaginable.
Cassie's heart lurched as she hissed a command in Parseltongue.
"Protect my mate."
Boros immediately turned away from his next intended victim to obey his mistress.
If Voldemort heard her, he gave no indication. His attention appeared entirely consumed by the ritual he was preparing to perform.
The ground beneath Cassie's feet began to quiver. She raised her wand and launched a powerful, white-hot curse at her father.
It struck an invisible shield like lightning. Magic crackled and hissed across the barrier, throwing sparks into the air, but the defense held. Voldemort did not even look at her.
Diolinda continued her assault on Severus. The Brazilian witch seemed determined to injure him, perhaps even kill him, and showed no sign of abandoning the duel despite the Dark Lord's sudden appearance.
Boros slithered toward them.
Cassie fired another volley of spells at her father. Still, his shield remained intact even as shimmering daggers impaled themselves in his impenetrable magic.
Then the ground erupted.
Black veins of magic burst from Voldemort's position, snaking across the earth toward the cavern entrance. The eruption's force threw Cassie off her feet. She hit the ground hard, the impact driving the breath from her lungs as her wand flew from her hand. Through the haze of pain, she saw the black magic spread toward the exposed entrance, branching across the stone like living roots.
The vampires inside screamed. Cassie struggled to sit up as the first of them emerged from the inner chambers. Their bodies jerked and twisted, their feet dragging them forward despite their frantic efforts to resist. They were being forced into the sunlight. The same thing that had happened in Greenland was happening here.
Boros reached Severus just as Diolinda fired a stunning spell. The curse struck the basilisk's scales and rebounded harmlessly. Diolinda hesitated, momentarily startled by the enormous serpent that had appeared between her and her opponent. Boros hissed and lunged at her, forcing her to leap aside.
Severus stunned her a heartbeat later, and she collapsed onto the rocky ground. He tried to climb over Boros's enormous body, desperate to see what was happening beyond the serpent's coils. The basilisk wrapped another thick layer of himself around Severus.
"Idiot girl!" Severus snarled as he realized Boros wouldn't budge. He couldn't see the battle properly, and if the serpent decided to eat Diolinda while he was trapped inside its coils, Cassie would never forgive him. He could only hope that his wife would prevail.
Across the battlefield, Cassie's head spun as Voldemort approached the exposed cavern entrance. Her wand lay several yards away.
She flipped onto her hands and knees and crawled toward it, ignoring the pain that radiated through her ribs. Her fingers closed around the familiar handle, and she dragged herself upright just enough to look toward the entrance.
Her blue eyes landed on Diolinda's unconscious body. Then on Boros, who was sniffing curiously at the Potions Master nestled within his protective coils.
She turned back toward her father. She tried to stand, but her legs buckled. She fell hard onto one knee just as a blinding golden light burst from Voldemort's wand.
The vampires' screams intensified. Magic dragged them out of the cavern toward the exposed entrance, overpowering their own bodies. Their claws scraped uselessly against the stone as they struggled to resist.
Cassie desperately searched her mind for a solution. She had no idea how long the Nightveil Elixir would protect them from sunlight, especially with Voldemort directing what appeared to be concentrated rays of magical sunlight straight at them.
The potion might give them time to escape or fight. But if they could not resist the magic compelling them to walk into the light, none of that would matter.
"Get up, Cassiopeia!" Stellan's voice cut through the chaos. The vampire seized her arm and hauled her to her feet. "I cannot stop him alone!"
Cassie stumbled as he dragged her forward. Her vision swam, and she struggled to keep her footing as they approached the cavern.
No other vampires stood beside them now. Only piles of smoking, glittering ash remained where their companions had fallen.
Cassie's throat tightened. She could not let the rest of them die. She hissed in Parseltongue as Stellan led her on.
Behind them, Boros suddenly uncoiled.
Severus stumbled free, straightened his silver mask, and tried to make sense of the scene. He watched the enormous basilisk slither toward the cavern entrance, then glanced toward the retreating Death Eaters gathered beneath the surrounding trees.
He couldn't understand the words Cassie had spoken, but he knew enough to recognize a command. Whatever she had told the serpent, it had been important enough to abandon him. He had little choice but to join the remaining Death Eaters and await further orders.
Two vampires emerged from the cavern, their fanged mouths open in terror as their feet dragged them toward certain death.
Voldemort laughed, raised his wand, and directed another concentrated beam of golden light at them.
The Nightveil Elixir had not been enough to withstand the full force of his magic. Their bodies crumbled.
Stellan released Cassie and lunged toward the Dark Lord with a furious roar that echoed across the terrain. He struck the magical barrier surrounding Voldemort and was hurled backward, crashing onto the rocky ground as white-blue electricity surged through his body. Voldemort raised his wand again.
"Stop!" Cassie screamed at her father. Even as the desperate word left her mouth, she knew it was useless. Her vision had steadied, and she could now make out the bloody symbols on her father's pale skin with horrifying clarity.
Voldemort paused. For one brief moment, he lowered his wand and turned toward her. "Stop, Cassiopeia?" he asked jovially. "Why would I do that when all of this is for you?" He raised his wand again. Another beam of sunlight swept across two more vampires. Their screams faded into silence as they collapsed into ash. A new group of vampires emerged from the inner chamber, their bodies moving against their will. Voldemort watched them approach with obvious delight. "Tell me, Elder Stellan," he called, turning his gaze toward the weakened vampire struggling to rise. "Did you know that Cassiopeia was the reason I came?" Stellan's blue eyes burned with hatred as he glared at the wizard. "Do not worry," Voldemort continued pleasantly. "After your betrayal, I will not give you such a merciful death."
A stream of Swedish curses poured from Stellan's mouth. Voldemort merely laughed.
Cassie fired another volley of red, crackling magic at her father. The spells struck his shield, which sizzled and smoked under the assault.
For the first time, something changed.
Near Voldemort's foot, a small hole appeared in the otherwise impenetrable barrier. It was barely the size of a Galleon, but the magic around its edges hissed and sparked as it struggled to repair itself.
The Dark Lord's surprise was unmistakable. He turned toward Cassie, his eyes widening. Whatever intention he had of burning the remaining vampires seemed to vanish as he shifted his attention to his estranged heir.
Stellan surged to his feet. With terrifying speed, he lunged at the barrier again, gnashing and clawing at the magic even as it burned him. Voldemort's bone-white wand swung toward the ancient vampire.
He was about to strike when Cassie shouted a single word.
"Down!"
It was not meant for her father.
It was a warning for Stellan. The vampire dropped before Boros struck.
The enormous basilisk lunged toward Voldemort, his jaws opening wide before crashing against the Dark Lord's shield. The white-blue current that had thrown Stellan to his knees surged over the basilisk's scales, but Boros barely seemed to notice. The magic slid harmlessly across his body like rainwater.
For a fraction of a second, the shield held. Then it shattered.
The sound was like glass breaking beneath an enormous hammer, giving Voldemort only seconds to react. He Disapparated with a sharp crack just before Boros's venomous fangs could impale him.
Cassie remained frozen, her wand raised, her heart hammering against her ribs. She did not know whether her father had abandoned the attack or whether he intended to reappear and rally his Death Eaters. She dared not lower her wand, even as the pain in her body threatened to overwhelm her.
Then the air shifted. Voldemort materialized on the small hill where Diolinda and Severus had fought.
Cassie turned toward him. She had hoped he would flee. Nothing was more precious to her father than his own safety, and now he faced Cassie, Boros, the Saints, and a small army of enraged, sun-resistant vampires.
He should have retreated. Instead, he glanced down at the ground beside him, where Diolinda lay motionless. He bent and reached down with his wandless hand.
Diolinda stirred weakly as he seized her by the hair and dragged her onto her knees.
"No!" Romily screamed, but it did nothing to stop him.
Voldemort wrenched Diolinda's head backward. The witch whimpered in pain, her hands scrabbling uselessly against the ground as she struggled to free herself.
Cassie started forward, but she was too far away. Too slow. Too weak.
She raised her wand. Before she could aim a desperate spell, Lord Voldemort Disapparated with Diolinda still in his grasp.
Cassie fell to her knees. Cracks and pops filled the air around her as the Death Eaters followed their master into the void.