Chapter 285: Harry Realizes the Problem, An Unexpected Enemy
The curse power in Arthur’s hand was not yet meant to kill.
Using Bellatrix’s wand as a medium, it was currently functioning as a locator.
The true killing blow would come later.
Under the wrapping curse energy, Bellatrix’s wand rapidly melted, condensing into a fist-sized black disc.
The disc was smooth, completely devoid of patterns.
Only a single white marking remained on its surface.
No matter how Arthur rotated it—
The white mark always pointed in the same direction.
A tracking artifact.
Follow the direction of the white mark—
And Bellatrix could be found.
As for why Arthur didn’t simply use a Tracking Charm or divination talisman?
Because those lacked lethality.
This disc, however, contained a sealed curse tailored specifically for Bellatrix.
The moment someone brought this disc into her proximity—
The curse would activate.
And she would die.
Arthur Apparated directly into Harry’s bedroom.
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Arthur! Can you knock next time?!"
Arthur gave a casual shrug.
"Sorry. You should install Anti-Apparition wards in your room. Otherwise anyone could pop in like that."
(Though it wouldn’t stop him anyway.)
Harry made a mental note to ask his mother about the charm later.
"So... why are you here?"
Arthur handed over the black disc.
"This will track Bellatrix. Follow the white marking."
Harry stared at it.
It looked simple.
Too simple.
Yet something about it felt... wrong.
Unsettling.
"Are you sure this is safe?"
Arthur waved a hand dismissively.
"Perfectly safe."
He silently added—
For everyone except Bellatrix.
Harry accepted it.
"Thanks."
Arthur nodded.
"What were you doing just now?"
"Writing to Dumbledore," Harry replied.
"I’m asking about the Azkaban prisoners and the progress of their capture."
In truth—
He wanted information about Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers.
Arthur wasn’t optimistic.
Days had passed.
No public news from the Ministry.
Which meant one thing—
They hadn’t found anyone.
After resurrection, Voldemort seemed more cautious.
Retreating with his followers.
Waiting.
Planning.
Arthur spoke calmly:
"You should tell Dumbledore about the disc. Go together."
Harry nodded.
Arthur added casually:
"And ask him to bring reinforcements."
Harry frowned.
"You think there are many of them gathered?"
"If it were just the three, you and Dumbledore could handle it," he reasoned.
Arthur shook his head.
"It’s worse."
"All the Azkaban escapees may be together."
"That’s impossible!"
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"What if someone is commanding them?"
Harry froze.
"...Who?"
Arthur asked quietly:
"Who can command Death Eaters?"
Harry’s pupils contracted.
A name escaped him instinctively.
"Voldemort."
Of course.
Who else could extract an entire prison without detection?
Who else could restrain dozens of deranged criminals from rampaging publicly?
Harry simply hadn’t considered it—
Because Voldemort had "just died."
Arthur’s reminder shattered that illusion.
The situation was far worse than Harry had allowed himself to believe.
"I’m writing to Dumbledore immediately."
Harry rushed to his desk.
Arthur moved toward the door.
"I’ll leave you to it."
"Wait."
Harry stopped him.
"You’re not joining us?"
Without Arthur, their strongest asset would be missing.
Arthur answered calmly:
"When you locate Bellatrix using the disc, I’ll know."
"And I’ll arrive."
Then he vanished.
Harry exhaled in relief and resumed writing.
Lands Between — Farum Azula
Arthur returned to the Lands Between.
It was time to release Destined Death.
He crossed the bridge beside the Dragon Temple altar.
A heavily armored Tree Sentinel guarded the entrance.
This version wore dragon-forged armor—crafted from scales and claws.
Impressive in theory.
Poorly executed in practice.
Arthur cut through it with the Dark Moon Greatsword in a single strike.
(Dragon Tree Sentinel: You’re impressive. Using a legendary weapon against my standard gear? How noble.)
With the sentinel defeated, Arthur approached the fog gate.
Maliketh awaited beyond.
But just as he stepped forward—
A figure burst from behind.
A strange, heavy club-like weapon swung down toward his back—
Fast.
Unexpected.
And lethal.
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