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London
–Damian Hawthorne–
"F*ck!" he raged as he flew through the air, semi aimlessly, his mind trying to find something else to bridge the gap of not knowing how to use portals. If only she hadn't stubbornly held onto her law and taught him how to use portals, he would not be having this problem.
He was one hundred percent sure that he would have come up with a way to create those fixed, anchored portals that would have just created a direct path from the portal room to the Prison Dungeon.
Making matters worse, he could sense the thralls in his range. With time running out, he was also running out of options. He was woefully unprepared to deal with this. He had no contacts with any local mystic community. One, if you count the Hawhtorne family, but that made no sense because so far, he had only attended a single, incredibly awkward lunch.
He doubted they would or even could help him with such an incredible problem. More importantly, anything they could do, he could do better and easier. The problem here was not something that could be solved with more magic. He needed portals, and he needed rhythm to come from someone who was either trustworthy enough to be in his lair or be someone under the command of someone he trusted to ruthlessly enforce the secrecy.
Basically, anyone from Kamar Taj would have worked flawlessly for the situation. Now, with the current Sanctum Guardian an active vampire hater, which was not totally unwarranted, and with everyone else busy in some emergency meeting, he had no other–
One moment, he was flying under his own power, using subtle kinetic boosts to maintain flight, direction, speed, and attitude, with the enchantment taking care of the lion's share of the minute adjustments required and the next, he had stopped sending them active instructions, which made them default to their normal safe modes. He slowed down to a halt, and began losing altitude, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.
Specifically, to a scene he remembered from the end of the Doctor Strange movie, where Mordo's turn to villainy was shown. Specifically, him hunting down or locating ex-members of Kamar Taj who had shown up to a place that was their last resort in healing their bodies that conventional medicine could not. People who used their time and teachings in Kamar Taj to heal their broken bodies, regain bodily functions, and then just….leave.
Learn enough magic to heal themselves, learn the basics of everything that Kamar Taj teaches, like sling rings, eldritch shape manipulations, warnings on Dimensional Energy and more, just to leave the organisation to live out the rest of their lives doing what they wanted.
Sounded kinda ungrateful, but Kamar Taj worked like that, allowing members to leave freely if they so wished. His feet touched the ground as he absentmindedly sat down on the park bench that was nearby, his mind racing as he recalled all the details.
It was probably only due to the Ancient One and her ability to no sell most stuff that constituted as a threat to Kamar Taj that it could be so lax when it came to training and retaining staff that could be used to shield the planet from mystical threats, but the fact that it existed was something that was going to save his butt today.
He could be wrong but he had just over four hours left until sunrise and he wanted to explore this option before he had to resort to just knocking them out and piling them up in a hole in the ground, with crude enchantments that would fail very fast, and require constant magical supply, and also ran the risk of not working properly because he will not have a secured working environment.
Sighing, he stood up, with a pathway clear in his mind. He needed to find a Sorcerer capable of opening portals and of a reasonably clear mental path. Nowhere did it say that he needed one that was actively working for Kamar Taj.
Time to find a retired Sorcerer in London. Failing that, he needed an international portkey to New York, which was a tall order and needed a lot of arm twisting in the black markets since international portkeys were something that were regulated properly even in the corrupt hellhole that was the British Ministry of Magic, but ultimately worth it for the lives of dozens of people.
He could not undo what was done to them, but he sure as hell could make sure they at least had a chance to survive, instead of turning to dust.
___xx___
Hogwarts
–Albus Dumbledore–
"Albus," He looked up from his slouched position on his chair, spotting the concerned looks Fillius was giving him, and gave him a smile he hoped was reassuring. Judging by the continued concern, it would seem that was not enough, "What happened back there? Why did we let him go?"
He sighed, straightening up as Fawkes, sensing his mood, trilled a happy song, "It is a question that has many answers, Filius, but the most important one being the safety and well-being of Harry and his family."
Filius nodded, "Yeah, I got that much. But why did you let him go after we left with the Dursleys?"
Ah, another question that he had no concrete answer for. Truthfully, he himself did not understand why he did not feel the need to treat the Giant Killer with the same level of concern as Tom himself.
Maybe it was the fact that only criminals, heinous ones at that, were only ever killed by the Giant Killer? Or that after examining the evidence his contacts had barely been able to smuggle out of Uagadou, he did not think that it was right to put the entire blame on someone who had only tried to help and had been burned for it?
Alas, it was not something that he could tell Filius, because of multiple laws that stated otherwise. So, he chose the easiest one.
"Well, Filius, it was because there are bigger concerns at the moment. I assume you know about pureblood vampires and their signature ability."
Filius' face tightened at the reminder, as they all realised just how close Muggle London had come to disaster with not just the presence of a pureblood vampire in London but also his willingness to recklessly use his terrible abilities to put the Statute at risk. It was not going to earn his coven any favours, he would make sure of that.
"Yes, I am aware of them. I am glad he took care of them, but even you must realise there is nothing that can be done to help those thralls. I sympathize with them, but people have tried over centuries to help them but it has always led to a simple answer. They are doomed, everyone knows it."
He sighed, closing his eyes as he realised just how closed off even the seemingly open minded members of the magical community could be. Even Filius, with his unique perspective on the magical community owing to his heritage, did not understand the situation.
It made him lament on the hidden flaw he had done nothing to address. Over the years, he had realised that the magical community could not be solely ruled by just wizards. It was also the magical creatures that were sentient. They needed voices as well, and yes, that included the vampires whose abilities made the entire world paint them as villains, who were only tolerated because any kind of large scale extermination had always woken up a bigger evil that had swept aside entire neighbouring magical nations.
"In a way, Filius, yes, you are right. They cannot be saved. Even if they were taken to a coven, their normal lives as they know it are gone. On top of that, we all know how covens, save for a handful, treat their thralls."
Filius grimaced at the reminder. It was widely documented that thralls were treated not just as second class citizens but as literal slaves, and the more viscerally disgusting term as blood bags.
"Despite all of that, the Giant Killer, whoever he might be, is trying to save them. That tells me that he has a conscience, perhaps a better one than most members that you and I have to face at the Board meeting."
The room was silent for a moment, before Filius replied in a much more subdued voice, "Fine. I get what you are saying. I'll try to be better about it."
He gave the man a weak smile, "That's all I can ask."
"So, I assume you have a plan of some sort then? Because you only have 5 hours until sunrise, and we both know that they will continue trying to fulfill the orders given, even if they are literally impossible to complete."
To that, he stood up, looking out the window, the moon casting a beautiful reflection of itself on the lake. He sighed, reminding himself that the price he would pay for the favour would be worth it, for if he lost his empathy for people who were completely innocent, what right would he have to teach the next generation of magicals?
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