A Father's Hidden Face
Luciel approached the group calmly, with that smile that seemed to say he was enjoying everyone else's late discovery.
"Well, at least you noticed. The others still seem to ignore it for now," he commented in a relaxed tone.
Harry looked at him a bit awkwardly, as if trying to justify himself. "Well, in our defense… we've been a little busy," he said with a shrug.
Luciel raised his hand dismissively. "I don't blame you. I only figured it out a few days before Kre's attack myself."
Hermione, always curious, jumped in quickly: "So is it something like the veela charm?"
Luciel shook his head. "No. Veelas can only be women, and the charm only exists in them." He immediately changed the subject, turning to Harry. "By the way, did you manage to fix that for me?"
"Oh, yes. It wasn't difficult. And it even gave me ideas to improve my golems," Harry replied while reaching into his magical bag. From it, he pulled out several pieces: pauldrons, armguards, and greaves.
They were enchanted objects, with glowing runes carved into their surfaces. At first glance they looked like simple pieces of armor, but anyone with a trained eye could see they were crafted to enhance a swordsman, granting the extra abilities Luciel had used during his fight. In addition, they contained something unsettling: a hidden enchantment that allowed another person to control them from afar. Harry, of course, had erased it, leaving only what Luciel needed.
Luciel received them with a smile of approval, his eyes shining with gratitude.
"Are you really going down the path of a magic swordsman?" Draco asked curiously, examining the pieces.
Luciel nodded softly. "After all, I trained with the sword since I was young. And now I have a princess to protect, like a knight." His smile softened even more at the thought of Katerina, radiating a warmth he rarely showed.
But suddenly, as if sensing something, Luciel's expression hardened. He put the objects away in his own magical bag and turned around.
Dominic was approaching down the hallway, carrying some books in his hands. The others noticed him as well. The professor, catching their looks, greeted them with a cordial smile and a slight nod before continuing calmly on his way.
They all followed him with their eyes until his back disappeared down the corridor.
Harry noticed Luciel staring too intently at Dominic, as if waging some inner battle. When their eyes met, Luciel forced a smile.
"Thank you for this, Harry. If you ever need anything from me, you can ask. I owe you one… well, several, actually."
He left them with that forced smile, turning his back.
Draco murmured under his breath, watching the professor leave: "Looks like Luciel has a problem with the professor too."
Harry nodded seriously. "I didn't want to, but it seems we'll also need to look into President Luciel's past. I'll need your help to investigate," he said, glancing at Daphne and Draco, who both nodded at once.
…
Hours later, Harry was sitting in the main garden, near the Fountain of Fair Fortune. The murmur of the water kept him company as he tried to reorganize the ideas in his head.
Suddenly, Draco appeared with a bundle of papers, which he dropped onto Harry's lap with nonchalance.
"For some reason, my mother already had quite a lot of information and sent it to me," he commented as he sat beside him. "I read something interesting. Take a look."
Harry picked up the papers, but just before opening them, he stopped and looked ahead.
Draco followed his gaze. Together they saw Fleur enter the garden, glancing around until she spotted them. She advanced straight toward them.
"Here you are! I've been looking for you everywhere," she said firmly as soon as she reached them.
Harry and Draco exchanged confused looks.
"We changed brands. Sorry, but I'm not in the mood to be stalked or have a villa pointing at me," Harry quipped immediately, mocking her.
"Me neither," Draco added just as quickly, in the same mocking tone. "And now that your cousin is even closer to his fiancée, it looks like you won't be able to fulfill that strange dream of yours so many English pure-bloods would support."
Fleur frowned, clearly irritated, but she held back. After a moment of silence, she took a deep breath and spoke seriously:
"Thank you for helping Katerina and Luciel. I truly appreciate it. And… I want to apologize for how I behaved before. It was entirely my fault. I let my ego blind me, and my actions lacked any manners. I regret them. You never actually did anything against me."
As she spoke, she nervously rubbed her hands together, intertwining and twisting her fingers.
Harry studied her carefully. He could see how difficult it was for her to break her pride like this. He was sure Luciel had played a part in forcing her to face her mistakes, but even so, Fleur was here by her own will. And her words were sincere.
Draco also stared at her for a moment. Fleur seemed uneasy under the gaze of two boys younger than her, as if fearing that rejection would shatter the effort it had cost her to come here.
"Bah, what nonsense. Whatever. I just don't want anyone owing me anything. If it happens again, I won't be so kind," Draco said before standing, turning his back, and walking off with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Obviously, he had accepted her apology, though in his own way.
Fleur watched him go until he disappeared, then turned back to Harry, waiting for his response.
Harry noticed something different: on Fleur's wrist there was no longer the bracelet she used to control her power. That meant she had now mastered it completely without needing it.
"Did my mother help you control your power?" he asked calmly.
Fleur stiffened slightly. "Eh… ah, yes. Professor Wanda is really very good. She helped me a lot. I'm very grateful. Also for my mother." A soft, cheerful smile spread across her face as she said it.
"I see. That's good," said Harry calmly before standing up as well. "In truth, it wasn't anything serious or worth worrying about. We just found someone to tease… and, you know, we were taught to always have manners with women and never disrespect them. I suppose we let off some steam and, at the same time, went a bit too far. So it doesn't matter, it's not of any real importance."
With the papers in his hand, he walked away calmly.
He had also accepted Fleur's apology.
It was the first time they had a real conversation, without throwing jabs or biting words, and that gave her a faint joy she barely dared to show.
…
Later, Harry was in a quiet corner of the garden, reading carefully through the documents Draco had given him. He turned the pages one by one, each time with greater surprise and a deep, grim interest.
Luciel had told him fragments of his past, but it was clear that even he did not know the full truth about his own father. Perhaps because he had been too young when it all happened, or because the story had been deliberately buried. Now, however, these papers revealed everything: Luciel's origins, and the cursed name of his father.
Dorian Montblanc.
An old believer in the ideals of Gellert Grindelwald. Not a mere follower, but someone who truly shared his vision of the world: the supremacy of wizards over muggles. However, his path had been different. Dorian had not sought to raise an army of followers, nor to build an empire of symbols and loyalty. He chose the darker path: that of absolute power, alone.
His method was brutal. He stole the magic of other wizards, draining them until they were left as empty husks. A practice so forbidden that even the most feared dark wizards avoided it.
In public, he was impeccable. A model husband, a perfectionist father, an elegant face in French high society. No one could have imagined that behind that façade lurked one of the greatest horrors of the magical world. Like two sides of the same coin, Montblanc could shift from courteous host to ruthless executioner without leaving a trace.
Harry swallowed hard as he read the reports. There were records of razed villages, the bodies of children—muggles and wizards alike—found without a shred of magic left in them. Silent massacres, unknown curses, entire towns erased from the map in a single night.
Dorian had not sought fame or followers. He sought power. And he achieved it to such an extent that in France, he was feared as much as Voldemort was in England. The difference was that Montblanc never needed loyalists or Death Eaters. His kingdom was fear, and his strength alone was enough to face anyone.
And until the end, no one knew who he truly was. Not until recently, when the death of Luciel's mother was investigated. Everything came to light—but it was buried again.
The day Luciel's mother died, the other face of Dorian Montblanc was exposed. Hunted by the Ministries of Magic of several countries, he escaped. And it was then that he committed his final act: a forbidden ritual, one so abhorrent that even its own creator had deemed it a blasphemy against nature.
The wizard who invented the spell had tried to destroy it, but he was captured and tortured for months until someone was able to extract it from him. And it seemed Montblanc was the one who obtained it.
The ritual sought the unthinkable: to force souls to return from death.
It was not ordinary necromancy, not inferi nor animated skeletons. These were souls themselves, compelled to inhabit flesh again. An army of immortals, condemned to serve Dorian, with the sole purpose of crushing every enemy and ultimately subjugating the muggle world.
According to the reports, the ritual had failed. Dorian Montblanc died during the process, consumed by his own ambition.
Or at least, that was the official version.
Harry closed his eyes and sighed deeply as he reached the final page, where the experiments, the victims, and that man's sick obsession were detailed.
"The magical world is truly rotten in many corners," he murmured. His fingers clenched the papers tightly, while a single name remained etched in his mind.
"Dorian…" he whispered, thoughtful.