The Elden Lion - Golden Fury. (Patreon)

Augustus Rookwood, near the Veela Conclave – France.

“FORWARD! Whoever brings me the Matriarchs may keep one of those little whores for himself!” Armand shouted, the idiot's face twisted with lust and greed.

So... predictable, Augustus thought with concealed contempt, his face hidden beneath his robes, concealed from the rest of the mercenaries and beasts his Lord had assigned to this clown to accomplish the mission.

The trolls growled as they began marching toward the edge of the formidable wards. Their enchanted clubs relentlessly battered the creatures' defenses, and Augustus watched with satisfaction as the stupid beasts seemed not to care that their skin had begun to burn beneath the deadly magic of the wards.

His master's orders had been precise and clear: capture seven dozen virgin Veela. It did not matter if they were bruised or injured, so long as they remained virgins.

It was a strange request, something Augustus could have expected from underdeveloped beings like the deceased Lucius's idiotic cousin, who merely sought to satisfy his instincts with beast-flesh like the Veela, but from his Lord...

Augustus hated not knowing something, and though he disliked admitting it, he had absolutely no idea what purpose the Dark Lord intended for these creatures. He was fully aware that magical blood, no matter how impure, was a powerful catalyst, and the number requested betrayed the ritual's true nature.

Seven times twelve, two extraordinarily powerful magical numbers, for a ritual of equal magnitude without a doubt, and it was all because of one man.

Harry Potter.

Augustus could not help but shudder as he thought about the mysterious and terrifying Lord Potter and the powerful actions that had shaken the Magical World to its very foundations.

The fall of Gringotts and the humiliation of the goblins, stripped of their magic and influence, now reduced to mere bankers forced to beg the Ministry for protection.

The execution of Cornelius Fudge, transforming him into a golden statue, an obvious irony and mockery of the former Minister's obsession, not to mention the destruction and conquest of the Malfoy, Parkinson, and Greengrass clans.

No one seemed either able or willing to do anything about it. Augustus knew that traditional families such as the Notts and the Averys had filed formal complaints demanding Harry Potter's arrest, only for Amelia Bones to laugh in their faces.

“Consequences of your own actions,” the redhead had said before shrugging and replying that Nott was free to submit the appropriate form and would receive an answer within ninety days, exactly as the protocol Cornelius Fudge himself had established required.

Oh, Augustus remembered the red-haired bitch's face that afternoon, watching with satisfaction as every traditionalist and every family that had appropriated Potter properties nearly soiled themselves in terror.

Three families had already fallen, and although Harry Potter had made no further move, that only increased the uncertainty among the remaining families.

At last, Augustus shook his head and walked toward Armand, who was still drunk on power as he admired the mercenaries and beasts the Dark Lord had granted him for this mission.

“Don't forget the Dark Lord's orders. Keep your beasts and your misfits under control until the merchandise is ready, Armand,” Augustus said firmly, making the idiot Malfoy look at him with the same arrogance and stupidity so characteristic of his family.

By Merlin, Augustus thought, not even Lucius had been as useless and idiotic as this creature, the Unspeakable reflected as he prepared himself to listen to whatever filth would spill from Armand's mouth.

“I haven't forgotten. The Dark Lord will have his pets, you have my word as Lord Malfoy,” the man declared in his pompous, arrogant voice, forcing Augustus to make a superhuman effort not to cast a damned Avada Kedavra on the spot.

“It seems the creatures have come out,” Augustus said apathetically, watching as an entire group of Veela emerged from the mountain pass, raising their wands to reinforce the Conclave's defenses.

It was irrelevant. Even if they repaired the wards, the trolls' relentless assault would eventually break them. Augustus had selected those points specifically to overload the runic stones. As long as the stupid beasts kept attacking the same section of the wards, they would fall sooner or later.

Alas, it seemed the Unspeakable had failed to account for Armand Malfoy's stupidity, for upon seeing the group of Veela behind the enchantments, he gave the single most idiotic order Augustus had ever heard.

“Split up the stupid beasts! Have them attack different points to weaken the wards!” the idiotic Malfoy shouted, making Augustus stare at him as though he were the greatest fool alive.

“What the hell are you doing, you idiot?!” Augustus roared, watching as the mercenaries separated the stupid beasts, pulling them away from the weakest point of the wards, the one Augustus had spent weeks studying.

Armand looked at him as though Augustus were the fool, and replied.

“Can't you see? I'm dividing the beasts to weaken the wards. I thought you were an Unspeakable, not a useless incompetent,” the idiotic Frenchman snapped, leaving Augustus momentarily speechless at the audacity of the fool standing before him.

Which slowly... transformed into fury. Who the hell did this clown think he was to speak to him like that? Without hesitation, with the speed and precision born from countless hours of training, Augustus drew his wand and shouted, savoring every single instant of the spell.

“CRUCIO!!!”

The effect was instantaneous. The Unspeakable reveled in the absolute terror on the man's face before he began screaming and writhing in agony, feeling every ounce of Augustus's hatred coursing through the curse.

The Unspeakable watched with cruel satisfaction as the man convulsed like a cockroach, his body trembling and soiling itself in the mud, just like the filthy pig he was.

Alas, no matter how much he wished to drive this creature insane with pain, Augustus had his orders, so he ended the curse, looking down with contempt as Armand Malfoy trembled like the damned coward he was, sprawled across the dirt and mud.

Pathetic, he thought disdainfully.

“Listen carefully, you piece of shit. I couldn't care less about your pathetic life or your worthless ambitions. The only reason I tolerate your rotten presence is because of the gold your disgusting family possesses. You will not endanger the Dark Lord's plans with your stupidity. Do you understand?” Augustus roared, taking immense pleasure in the look of absolute terror on Armand's face, the very same look Augustus himself had worn many times in the past whenever he faced the Dark Lord.

It was... an intoxicating sensation, holding another being's fate, even someone as pathetic as Armand Malfoy, in the palm of his hand. At that moment, Augustus was his God. He alone would decide whether the pathetic wizard lived or died.

The Unspeakable was so lost in his fantasies that he failed to notice Armand's gaze was not fixed upon him, but upon the... golden object hurtling toward the battlefield at incredible speed.

“Merde...” the Frenchman whispered, terrified out of his wits as he crawled away with difficulty, retreating from Augustus and trying to flee.

When...

BOOOOOOM!

The impact sounded like a hundred Bombarda spells detonating simultaneously, all concentrated into a single point. The force was so devastating that Augustus, Armand, the mercenaries, and the trolls were all hurled through the air.

The screams... Merlin, the screams were filled with absolute terror. A mantle of golden flames had erupted from the point of impact, while the once-clear night sky darkened with alarming speed. Golden lightning crackled across the heavens as a mysterious, terrifying, and familiar figure emerged from the center of the impact.

No... it wasn't possible... What the hell was Harry Potter doing in France? Augustus thought in terror, taking a moment to study the fearsome wizard standing before him.

The imposing figure slowly began to levitate, simply existing, dominating the battlefield through his mere presence alone, motionless, like a deity that had claimed the heavens.

His body was clad in black armor, polished like obsidian, adorned with delicate golden engravings that shimmered with unknown magic, as though they were somehow alive. His cloak billowed in the wind, giving him the appearance of an Angel of Death.

Resting upon his brow was a slender golden circlet, simple yet majestic, more crown than ornament. His eyes, one emerald green and the other golden, burned with supernatural intensity, while at his side floated a gigantic golden magical sword. Augustus did not recognize the spell, but he did not need to in order to understand how dangerous it was.

The entire battlefield fell silent, mercenaries and wizards alike staring at the divine figure with fear and caution. Even the trolls, whose intellect ranked below that of a filthy Muggle, had become wary, their instincts no doubt screaming that they stood in the presence of a Predator.

Augustus expected words, perhaps an offer of surrender or some self-righteous speech, but it was obvious Harry Potter was no Dumbledore. There was little of the sanctimonious hypocrite in those eyes, only... cold indifference, as though this entire operation were nothing more than a minor inconvenience to him.

Harry Potter simply made a... gesture with his hand, causing the golden sword to blaze with overwhelming magic, so powerful that the very air began to heat as never before, and it took no genius to know what was about to happen.

“RUN!!!” one of the mercenaries screamed as they all fled in desperation, trying to get as far away from the Conclave as possible, just as the sword descended like an executioner's axe upon the battlefield, and the instant the blade of the unknown spell struck the earth...

Hell was unleashed upon the world.

ROOOOOOOOAAAR!

Voracious golden flames erupted from the sword, instantly incinerating every mercenary and troll caught within the impact zone. The flames were so intense that even the dense, resilient hide of the beasts was completely carbonized, reducing both wizards and monsters alike to nothing more than blackened skeletons.

Augustus tried to Apparate, cursing when he realized it was impossible. The damned runic stones they had brought to prevent those filthy creatures from escaping had backfired spectacularly, and now they themselves were trapped within the devastating range of the attack.

The flames spared no one, consuming everything in their path while everyone desperately tried to flee the Golden Fury, evidently without success.

The Unspeakable cast one final contemptuous glance toward Armand Malfoy, but this mission had become a complete disaster. He had to report back to his Lord. It was obvious Harry Potter had allied himself with the Veela, and this operation would achieve absolutely nothing.

Giving the pathetic Malfoy one last look of utter disdain, Augustus turned around and ran with every ounce of strength he possessed, only to be stopped by a deep, masculine, powerful voice.

“Leaving already? But we've only just begun.”

“AAAHHHG!” Augustus screamed in terror as he spun around, only to find that Harry Potter was no longer floating in the sky but standing just a few meters away.

He was... terrifying. There was simply no other word to describe him. He possessed a monstrous height, at least two meters tall, and he looked at Augustus in exactly the same way Augustus looked upon Mudbloods and filthy Muggles.

Like an insignificant insect.

“Mercy! Mercy!” the pathetic Armand screamed as he crawled like the worm he was toward Lord Potter's feet. Harry did not even hesitate before driving a brutal kick into the new Malfoy patriarch's stomach, sending him flying straight into the golden flames consuming everything around them.

Armand's screams were horrifying, overflowing with agony and pain... at least for a few moments, until the flames consumed his pathetic life.

Around them, the screams had nearly vanished. Trolls, mercenaries, and even wizards of impeccable pedigree who had come merely to hunt a few Veela to warm their beds... they were all dead, burned to ash before the fury of House Potter. But none of that truly mattered to Augustus, who had far more pressing concerns.

Like figuring out how to leave this place alive.

“Lord Potter,” Augustus said, drawing upon every ounce of his Occlumency to calm himself completely, refusing to reveal the terror he felt in the presence of the powerful wizard.

“Ah, you have manners. I see. One would think you and your kind had never heard of such a thing, considering your rather questionable actions,” the black-haired wizard said as he slowly approached Augustus. Around them, the flames gradually began to die away, revealing nothing but charred corpses, while the foul creatures cautiously emerged from the safety of the wards, looking upon Potter with devotion and gratitude.

“My Lord, we thank you for your aid,” one of the Veela said, evidently a captain judging by the insignia upon her battle robes, making Potter nod absentmindedly.

“Think nothing of it, my dear. Gather your sisters and return to the Matriarchs. Inform them that the situation has been resolved and have them prepare everything necessary to formalize the vassalage of the Veela Nation to House Potter,” the Lord said, causing Augustus's eyes to widen in utter disbelief at that revelation.

Harry Potter was not limiting his vendetta to Great Britain. He was actively expanding both his influence and his alliances across the Continent. The Dark Lord had to be informed. The moment Augustus escaped this situation, he would present himself before him and...

“It's both curious and hilarious that you believe you'll live long enough to tell him,” Harry Potter said with obvious amusement, making Augustus gasp in terror as he reinforced his Occlumency even further.

Lord Potter's response? He laughed even harder before seizing the Unspeakable by the throat and lifting him effortlessly into the air, careful to ensure that the strength of his grip did not snap Augustus's neck.

At least... not yet, the Death Eater thought in terror, unable to tear his eyes away from the frighteningly powerful gaze of Lord Potter, who merely nodded to himself.

“I see... I see... Seven dozen of my Veela. Magical numbers, laden with meaning and power. It would seem someone has been dabbling in Ritual Magic,” Harry Potter said with amusement as he observed the look of absolute terror on Augustus's face. The Unspeakable had stopped pretending. He had been reduced to his most primitive instincts.

At this moment.

“I...” the Unspeakable tried to speak, only to be silenced by a simple motion of Harry Potter's hand.

“Silence, worm. I have no interest in hearing your pathetic voice,” he said calmly, his gaze settling upon Augustus's forearm, where the Dark Mark stood proudly, far darker than it had been a few years earlier.

“Interesting,” Lord Potter said, his brilliant eyes fixed upon Augustus's forearm as one of his fingers touched the Mark, resulting in...

“AAAAAHHHHHG!” Rookwood screamed in absolute agony. The Dark Lord had subjected him to the Cruciatus Curse before, and that pain now seemed like nothing more than a child's game compared to what he was experiencing at this very moment.

It was as though Potter were tearing away a piece of his soul, strange as that sounded.

“Interesting. It's not especially powerful magic, but it is ingenious. A modified Protean Charm, the echo of an innocent life been sacrifice, and the degradation of the soul. You live with a guillotine hanging above your neck and believe yourself free. Do you have any idea what your Master did to you? That you are nothing more than branded cattle waiting to be slaughtered at the proper moment?” Harry Potter asked, the amusement and mockery on his face impossible to miss.

But Augustus no longer possessed the willpower to answer, his mind consumed by a single thought.

“MERCY! MERCY! MAKE THE PAIN STOP!!” he screamed uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face as he felt something literally being ripped out of his chest.

Faced with his desperate pleas, Harry Potter merely sighed with thinly veiled mockery.

“Oh, Augustus, your torment has only just begun. What you intended to do to my girls... was something abominable and depraved, something I intend to make you pay for a hundredfold. But first... it's time to send your Master a message,” the Potter Lord said before placing his finger upon the Dark Mark, causing it to blaze with a brilliant golden radiance.

And if Augustus had thought he knew pain before... it paled in comparison to what Harry Potter was doing to him now.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHG!”

Pure agony. Augustus felt something inside his mind simply... shatter. His Occlumency was at its absolute limit, but it was utterly impossible to stop the sensation invading his mind. He only wanted it to end. Words failed Rookwood completely as he began babbling incoherently, losing the ability to speak while feeling himself becoming trapped inside his own mind.

But before the outside world faded into a distant memory... Augustus heard Lord Potter's final words, spoken directly to the Dark Mark.

To his Master.

“I know you're there, and you know perfectly well that you owe me a debt, one I intend to collect sooner or later. You may run, but I will make certain the fury of House Potter falls upon you. Enjoy your final moments, because we have an appointment in the very near future... and I have no intention of missing it.”

And the instant those words left Harry Potter's lips, everything became completely silent... there was no pain... there was nothing... only infinite calm.

Only calm... calm...

The final conscious thought of Augustus Rookwood, one of the Dark Lord's highest-ranking Death Eaters, was the overwhelming image of Harry Potter looking at him with complete indifference.

And then... silence.

The attack had failed. The Dark Lord's mission could never be completed, but Augustus no longer cared. He was simply grateful that he would never feel pain again.

Never again.

Unaware that this night... would bring severe consequences for every single Death Eater, because the Message had been heard by each and every one of them, and they had all witnessed the very same thing.

The Dark Lord... screaming in agony, utterly subdued before the overwhelming power of Harry Potter.

The Golden Lion had been unleashed.

And the hunt had begun.