Voldemort's Blight Chapter 3 (Patreon)

“The Ural Mountains will be a cold and difficult place to traverse. You’re both very brave for agreeing to this,” McGonagall said with a weary smile.

Harry didn’t feel brave. He hadn’t rushed at the first chance to go on this mission; it’d taken Hermione’s persistent nature to convince him to consider it at all. Even that aside, he wasn’t looking forward to leaving the Bubble again. Everything outside was… disconcerting in a way that was impossible to replicate elsewhere.

The rest of the council was gathered around the edge of the Bubble by the Forbidden Forest, each expressing various degrees of concern. Bill looked like he’d rather be off overseeing his enchanters or getting a few moments of sleep, Susan was still grumpy from the mess she’d been forced to clean up the previous day, and Narcissa seemed like she’d rather this be done sooner rather than later. None of them showed much hope that this expedition out of the Bubble would be any different than the last, except for Hermione.

She was the only one brimming with excitement as she checked over Harry and Daphne’s equipment. They were both wearing standard robes, but they had enormous backpacks that held all of their supplies. It would’ve been nice to carry a small bag with an Extension Charm, but that would mean giving the blight that much more magic to focus on. Any concentration of magic was dangerous out there. Even casting a single spell could lead to one’s death if the blight waxed at that exact moment.

Harry had no trouble shouldering the hefty load. His pack was filled with preserved foodstuffs, a small tent stowed snugly in a cylindrical bag, blankets and a sleeping bag, warm winter robes to keep him safe in the mountains, and a couple muggle survival kits that included everything he’d need for the journey ahead. Daphne, on the other hand, wasn’t handling the weight quite so easily. He could see it in the way she bent her knees and let her shoulders droop when they needed to be strong. She was going to slow him down.

“I hope that the ward stones will be better this time,” Harry commented morosely.

“There’s been several improvements,” Bill said as he stepped forward, pulling six small stones out of his pocket. They were nice and flat, the type you’d be excited to find if you were skipping stones across a lake, and covered with the intricate runic carvings that hinted at the power within them. “You’ll have three each: one primary and two reserves. Each one should last for a week at the very minimum, but we do recommend changing them out for your backups at that time if you’re still out there.”

Harry plucked the three ward stones from his hand and put two in his backpack and the other in a small pouch just inside of his robes. The stone laid right over top of his heart.

“You still won’t be able to do much magic without attracting notice from the blight,” Bill admitted. “A spell or two, nothing powerful, and you might be safe. I wouldn’t risk it though. These are designed to obscure your magical signatures and prevent the blight from identifying you as targets and not much more.”

“How do they work?” Daphne asked curiously. “The runes are Elder Futhark and Anglo-Saxon, but those aren’t known to mesh well. How did you—”

“Just trust that they work,” Harry interrupted her before she could continue on. He’d sat through too many discussions about how the runes worked and why they’d failed in the past to care about the details now. If they failed, then he’d die like Ron did out there, and there wouldn’t be a single thing he could do about it.

Daphne glared at him as she snatched the ward stones and placed them in the same spots that Harry had on her person. “If something goes wrong in the field, I want to know how to repair these things.”

“If our ward stones go down in the field, we’ll only have seconds to escape back here,” Harry told her bluntly. “However, our ward stones should overlap with each other if we’re close enough by, so we can still get by if only one of ours fails. If both go down, we’ll have emergency portkeys, which I assume are in our packs.”

It took a pointed look at Hermione for her to nod. “You each have a silk scarf. Just put a bit of magic into it and say ‘Hogwarts’ to activate it.”

“And if we lose the portkeys?” Daphne asked warily.

Hermione grimaced. It was as simple an answer as they needed.

Apparation would’ve made for a potential getaway if it didn’t create such a powerful flux of magic. The blight was drawn to it like a fly to a lamp. It was what cost Auror Robards his life during their first venture out of the Bubble.

Daphne was looking quite a bit more wary then she had been when they’d walked up here together. Her mind was probably unconsciously coming up with a few good excuses as to why she’d have to back out of this operation, not that she’d ever use them. Daphne wasn’t the type of person to renege on a commitment, if only out of pride and stubbornness.

Harry casually checked himself over, patting his pockets to ensure everything was perfectly in place. He drew his wand and tapped the ward stone inside of his robes, feeling it warm slightly as it activated. With that in place, he settled quickly, ready to step beyond the Bubble.

Daphne was not.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight. She was taking extra time with everything from double-checking over her equipment with Hermione’s help to finding the best way to tighten the straps of her backpack around her waist so that it’d be easier to carry. She was scared, but Harry couldn’t judge her for it.

A crowd was beginning to form nearby. It was inevitable; anytime a group set off out of the Bubble, there was always a big hubbub about it. In past times, there’d be a celebration with thick slices of chocolate cake with buttercream icing handed out freely and fireworks erupting overhead, but this was a quieter affair. The last one had been much the same. Almost no one truly believed that this time was going to be any different from the last. Voldemort’s Blight seemed an impossible thing to stop.

In the midst of the crowd, Harry spotted Astoria, Daphne’s sister, clinging to Draco Malfoy. Her face was wet from the tears that’d already spilt from her watery eyes. Yet, throughout all of the pain, she didn’t dare look away for a second. She needed to know, needed to see, that Daphne portkeyed out of here safely.

Finally, Hermione gave Daphne a brief hug before handing over three different lengths of corded rope. Daphne put the two largest ones within her backpack and kept the shortest one in her hand.

Portkeys were a tricky thing. A powerful-enough witch or wizard could make one that could carry a group to anywhere on the planet they wished. But the further they went from the original point, the more power it took. The blight fed on magical power and converged wherever it sensed it. So, they had to make multiple short trips so as to not provoke the blight too much. It was tedious but far safer this way.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked her after several more seconds had passed.

“Just grab on already,” she muttered, taking the chance to slyly glance back at her sister in the crowd before she sharply snapped her head back the other way to the muted wasteland that lay beyond the Bubble’s borders.

“Don’t do anything risky,” Hermione told Harry as she came in for a bone-crushing hug. “If things aren’t working out, it’s better if you come back here so that we can regroup.”

“I know,” Harry assured her. “I’ll do my best.”

Ron had also done his best, but Harry didn’t say that.

When Hermione pulled back, there were tears in her eyes too. She wiped them away quickly, pretending like Harry hadn’t just seen them, and then gestured towards the Bubble.

At a distance, it was hard to make out the strange, shimmering dome that surrounded them. The closer you got though, the more it looked like you were staring through the surface of a lake. Ripples slowly ran through the Bubble as the enchanters empowering it fuelled the creation with their magic, creating odd refractions where trees bent at odd angles and the ground curled in an unnatural way.

Harry grabbed onto the length of cord that Daphne held out for him, watching as she sucked in a deep breath. She was readying herself to take the step that few others had ever taken.

“Just follow me,” he murmured to her.

He deliberately lifted his foot slowly before stepping through the Bubble. It really did look like he was staring through the surface of a body of water as the light’s distortion played havoc with his vision. Daphne followed half a second behind him, just enough time for him to take his second step that carried him all the way outside of the Bubble.

Daphne held her breath as she came through. It was a common-enough response that he didn’t tease her for it. Stepping through the Bubble truly felt like stepping through to another world. It was impossible to explain to anyone else what the experience would be like before they did it.

She turned her head back one last time to the final vestiges of overwhelming colour that they’d see until they returned. Hogwarts looked so beautiful in the morning sunlight. It was a sight worth returning for.

But as Harry was ready to say goodbye, Daphne wasn’t. Her knees were tensed like she was ready to bolt right back into the safety of the Bubble. Her eyes were wide with fear… fear of the unknown, both for what was bound to face them and what would happen to everyone back at Hogwarts if they didn’t make it back in time.

Harry took a couple steps forward, tugging on the rope, but Daphne refused to budge.

He sighed, knowing that he was going to pay for this later.

“Stockholm,” he said.

There were many strange things that’d happened since the blight. Portkeys no longer felt that uncomfortable to travel with. There was no howling wind or swirling colours to make one feel sick, only a vapid greyness and an uncomfortably still silence that lasted only a few seconds before they arrived at their first destination.

The second Harry’s feet touched the cobblestone road, he started off at a jog, letting go of the rope. He made it a few steps before he glanced back and saw that Daphne was standing stock still, staring in awe at the world around them.

It was the same reaction everyone had their first time out in the world touched by the blight. Seeing the desaturated world through the lens of the Bubble surrounding Hogwarts didn’t do it justice. Outside of the two of them and the clothes they wore, everything else seemed so lifeless. Buildings could be mistaken as ancient ruins, trees and plants looked alien to the planet, and even the mundane things like tables and chairs outside of a cafe seemed like they’d been plucked out of a distant time and placed here.

Familiarity and unnaturalness came hand in hand with everything touched by the blight.

“We need to move,” Harry reminded Daphne. “The blight will be here soon. The concentration of magic from using the portkey—”

“I know,” Daphne snapped. “You don’t need to lecture me. I helped write the guidelines for these expeditions.”

“Theory doesn’t matter if you can’t execute on it,” Harry retorted. “Now get moving. We need to get a few blocks away.”

He ran off then without looking back. She was the one who had the other portkeys, so she could’ve easily turned and ran in the opposite direction, forcing him to follow after her. It was the type of thing she’d normally do, but this new world made her cautious enough to not fool around like that. She started running after him.

Terraced houses lined the streets, only distinguishable by the variances between brick and stucco. There was no one around anymore. No people, animals, insects. Just nothing but the remnants of a once thriving civilisation.

Even if they did put a stop to the blight, this was all that would be left of the world. An empty husk with not enough people to repopulate it. It would take hundreds of years before they could reach the height that they were once at.

But that slight hope gave Harry the motivation to do this. Saving the people at Hogwarts was truly important, but without a belief that there could be a brighter future, then Harry would’ve given up long before now. It was hard to remember that hope all the time, but seeing the blighted world reminded him of it.

Harry came to a stop when he reached the water. A few half-sunken boats had run aground in the shallows. A cold wind blew in, making the sun’s warmth feel dull by comparison. Daphne caught up to him a few seconds later, panting from the exertion. It was the extra weight in the backpack that was doing her in.

“Pass it over,” Harry said, gesturing with his hand. “I can carry yours too for a bit.”

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying it myself,” Daphne said, trying to mask her heavy breathing.

Harry just rolled his eyes and looked away over the dark waters. He could see across to another landmass where those same drab buildings lay dormant. He’d love to splash some paint over everything if it wouldn’t just disappear the second that the blight ran over this area again. He could feel it coming soon—his sensitivity towards magic had always been quite sharp, and the blight was the only other magical thing in existence out here.

“Look over there,” Harry pointed distantly.

Daphne stepped out and put her hand above her eyes to block out the sun’s harsh rays. Harry kept pointing, slowly following the almost-imperceptible ripple that ran through the air. It almost looked like the edge of glowing flame washing over everything in sight.

That was the blight, and it was coming right for them.

Daphne’s chest heaved as the blight grew closer. It was almost silent, but it had a subtle whistle similar to how the wind sounded when it ran through a narrow street. It was quieter than a whisper yet so uncomfortable that it lingered even now in Harry’s nightmares.

“I—” Daphne stopped what she was about to say and shut her eyes as the blight washed over them. Harry felt his ward stone heat up again, signifying that it was still working to keep him safe. It would’ve been terribly embarrassing for Bill if it failed on its first real test.

The blight converged deeper into the city where they’d come from. It had detected the portkey that Harry and Daphne had used—it’s magic too strong for the ward stone to mask it entirely—and was seeking to devour it.

“It’s gone now,” Harry tried to say comfortingly.

Evidently, it was the exact wrong thing to say.

Daphne huffed. “Of course it’s gone. I know the blight’s movements better than anyone. You need to stop treating me like I’m a child out here.”

Any sympathy he felt for her being out in the blighted world for the first time vanished then. He had tried to be kind and understanding, but it was pointless with her.

“Fine,” Harry replied in a clipped tone. “Then take out the next portkey and let’s get moving.”

She grumbled something under her breath about him, but he didn’t bother listening to her. He just snatched one end of the rope she pulled out and held on tight as she activated it.

They landed in Arkhangelsk in Russia next. The city was much smaller than Stockholm but no less haunting with the abandoned buildings. Cars littered the streets, either strewn about randomly or crashed into any nearby object. Everyone had been going about their days like normal when the blight struck, and while they died quickly, the machines they’d used had lasted a little bit longer.

Daphne took the lead this time and ran them towards an old church. The bulbous domes topped with crosses made for an easy landmark to find. Her head kept swivelling about, like she was expecting someone or something to jump out and surprise them. Of course, nothing ever did.

Neither of them spoke a word the entire time they were in the city. They simply came to a stop outside of the church and watched the blight wash over them again before converging on the place they’d arrived.

Finally, Daphne took out the last portkey. It was set to drop them near where Septima had detected a magical surge on Mount Narodnaya, the highest peak of the Ural Mountains in Russia. Hopefully, they’d be close enough to find the source of the magic. Daphne had brought along a detector that Septima had made, but Harry had used those before and knew how unreliable they could be. It might take them days or weeks to track down whatever source they were supposed to find.

As Harry grabbed hold of the portkey, Daphne said: “Mount Narodnaya.”

They were pulled along just as before, travelling magically around the world, only Harry felt himself slam into something hard. It knocked all of the air from his lungs, and he collapsed hard onto the rocky ground.

“What the hell?” He cried out as he scrambled to his feet.

A snowflake fell onto his cheek, melting away instantly into a small droplet of water. Harry didn’t wipe it away. He couldn’t even move his limbs when he was so stunned by what he saw before him.

Colour had returned to the world.

The vast mountain range ahead was covered in a healthy layer of snow, but there were signs of green grass poking up through it. Verdant trees sat below in the valley before him where ducks and geese swam in a small lake. Foxes ran through small undergrowths while a brown bear with two small cubs walked along the lake’s edge. The sounds that’d been missing from the rest of the world sang in Harry’s ears.

He turned to Daphne, amazement spread across his face, but she wasn’t there.

His mind raced them, remembering what he’d experienced during the portkey trip.

They’d crashed against a ward barrier and were spat out in different places; it was the only explanation.

Harry sighed and checked over his backpack to make sure that it was still secure. The thought of taking the emergency portkey back to Hogwarts briefly flitted through his mind, but he discarded it quickly.

For the first time on any expedition, he’d encountered real signs of life in this world. The fact that it was around where Septima believed the origins of the blight to be couldn’t be a mere coincidence.

If he had to shoulder this task alone, then so be it.

With a confident step, Harry passed through the ward barrier and set his sights for the distant horizon.