94

"I really, really hate portkeys," Harry murmured as Harry apparated into another corner of rural Germany, feeling extremely frustrated. Understandable, as, he had spent almost thirty-six hours, bouncing across Europe through a series of Portkeys.

He didn't even need to wait for Amelia to arrange them, instead stealing a list of contacts from her mind along with the passwords and other safety measures that were required to make them arrange those Portkeys.

Interestingly, only half of Amelia's contacts had belonged to the other ministries. There was a surprising number of black market operators she had in mind. Some, she contacted during her long stint as the head of law enforcement … some, she arranged to have a way to bring her niece away if the worst happened and Voldemort took over Britain.

Considering just how close Voldemort came to winning before Harry started to take a more active role, Harry couldn't exactly blame her.

It was why he didn't want to delay too much once he had received the contacts. He knew that Voldemort already left Britain to attack Grindelwald's prison, and Harry had no idea exactly what Voldemort was planning. He had never been a trusting man, and the recent string of incompetence his minions had been displaying since Harry started meddling didn't make him more willing to trust them.

It was why he was bouncing all around Europe while using his absolute least favorite method of travel rather than just resting at home, enjoying the surprise Daphne had prepared for him.

Though, luckily, this was his last meeting, and after this, he had another portkey back to England, which would bring him back to London just before midnight, leaving him some time to enjoy the mysterious surprise — one that he didn't know because he deliberately avoided the information.

His ability to read minds was fun … but he wanted to use it to make his life easier, not boring.

But, as he walked toward the cottage that was in the middle of nowhere, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his head, and tightened his invisibility cloak around his body … enjoying its unique feature to pass through the wards far more easily than it was supposed to be possible.

He still needed to cast a few spells, but the process was considerably easier. Just a minute of effort, and he found himself at the residence of another Acolyte of Grindelwald. He couldn't help but snort in distaste even as he slammed the man with a stunner, keeping him asleep.

The reason for his distaste was clear. The place was a pigsty. A pile of rags sat in the far corner that was currently used as a bed, and a pile of unwashed dishes smelled disgusting. The owner of the place clearly lost his will to live.

The view didn't surprise Harry. It was the eleventh surviving Acolyte that he visited, and every single one of them had been living in similar circumstances. Excellent in magic, living under the wards … but absolutely no passion in life.

After all the time he spent in Black Library, he could see the effects of a curse. A loyalty curse, to be exact. It clearly worked subtly, but ensured enduring loyalty and adoration. It was effective when Grindelwald was commanding them, but with him locked in the prison, they fell into a passive state, going through life with no passion, just practicing while waiting for orders … orders that never arrived.

However, even more fascinating was the way their magic withered and weakened despite them practicing daily to keep their skills sharp. An interesting dichotomy, making him realize just how deeply passion and individuality could be linked to magic power in addition to inborn power.

However, there was a plus size for their problem. It allowed Harry to reactivate them easily. He opened his eyelid and looked deep, using his Legimency to insert a fake encounter, where he had just received an order from his master, calling him for his defense of the prison.

To protect Grindelwald from Voldemort.

Just like that, he had another distraction for Voldemort during his inevitable revenge trip. A trip that Grindelwald was already aware of thanks to one of the prison guards Harry had visited earlier, sending a gift.

A mere letter, unfortunately, and not a wand as he had just hoped. In that letter, Harry had penned using Dumbledore's hand, one that declared his undying love for Grindelwald despite unfortunate circumstances of their lives and ideals — deliberately leaving it vogue — and asking for his forgiveness as he lay dying due to Voldemort's curse.

Just the right letter to trigger the flames of revenge for a dying man.

Harry would have felt bad for manipulating someone's love … but considering the target was a madman who not only killed thousands in his own hands but also triggered a war that killed more than a hundred million people, Harry didn't feel particularly bad.

With that, his plan was complete … almost. He took a short apparation, to a nice cave that he discovered just a couple miles away from the prison, and started adding an incredible number of wards to keep the place hidden and secure, even leaving several potions in place.

He wanted a safe place to arrive once the battle started, ready to intervene the moment Voldemort showed a weakness he could take advantage of.

He was getting much better in magic, but he knew that he wasn't strong enough to take Voldemort in a fair duel.

An unfair one, on the other hand…

Harry just hoped that he had managed to twist things enough to somehow make a difference. Eleven weakened Acolytes and an old Dark Lord without a wand — one that would hopefully be ready to act thanks to the letter he had sent his way.

Of course, Harry thought about asking for help, but he didn't have anyone that could truly help. Hermione, he could trust, but while she had a brilliant mind, she was a terrible duelist; and the same applied to the other girls. Daphne might have been a good candidate otherwise, but Harry couldn't risk a child, let alone his own child in a deadly duel between two dark lords.

He thought about informing Amelia, but she was too smart not to realize how he had arranged all of this. Also, even if he could handle that particular hurdle, she was still a bad candidate. The presence of the British Minister of Magic was simply too troubling in such a place. And, using other ministry forces was even more impossible, with the number of spies Voldemort had in place.

Ironically, he didn't trust Sirius either. Harry trusted that Sirius loved him enough to die for him, but he didn't trust Sirius' ability to keep his mouth after the mission or listen to his orders during the mission. His story of how he ended up in Azkaban was enough to show exactly how erratic he could be.

As for Lupin … he didn't even bother thinking about it.

The only one that he could rely on for such a mission was the Mad-Eye, but he was even more unpredictable than Sirius. Harry had no idea whether Moody would just kill him as well once he noticed some of the dark spells he had learned from the Black Library.

"No, it looks like I would be alone," he murmured. He had nothing else to do but to wait for Voldemort to attack, hoping that it would somehow work as he intended. He triggered the portkey, and disappeared with another annoying jerking sensation, hoping that all of his effort wouldn't be for nothing.