Legend of the Golden Sorcerer Chapter 4: The Castle, a harry potter fanfic

The forest, what remained of it, was dark and dreary--the trees had long burned to the ground and the grass and undergrowth was gone, leaving only a charred and desolate earth—save for the red-orange hue of a controlled fire near the remains of a stone cottage.

Dieter stood next to the funeral pyre he had built, gazing into the flames. He had decided to burn the body of the Warlock as the great wizards of old had done. The fire burned bright and crackled happily, easily sated by the flesh of the Warlock, contrasting greatly with the mood of both the forest and Dieter. Dieter could not stop the thoughts that flooded his head. His mentor was now gone; the man who had taught him to be a wizard was slowly burning away in front of him. In all honesty, Dieter didn't know what to do. His anger had hollowed out with his destruction of the forest, along with all irrational ideas of charging into battle against his mentor's slayer. He knew he would do it eventually. He was honor bound to avenge his mentor. The man had saved his life ten years ago, and thus Dieter owed him a life debt. And since he had failed to protect his mentor from his killer, Dieter could only fulfill his life debt if he avenged his mentor's death.

But Dieter did not only want to kill him to fulfill the life debt, but to avenge a fallen father. Even though the Warlock had tortured him, degraded him, pushed him to his limits, and overall been an asshole, Dieter still had cared for him. And so, he would hunt down this wizard who had killed his master, and kill him.

But not yet. A wizard with the power to kill his mentor would have to be extremely strong, and Dieter didn't know if he could beat him. Dieter knew he was stronger than his deceased teacher—that was why the Warlock had even bothered to teach him--but he knew nothing about this mysterious wizard. Therefore, Dieter would have to find him and watch him, and figure out his weaknesses.

A sudden pulsing caught Dieter's attention. There was no sight or sound, only a feeling. Dieter turned away from the fire and walked over to the ruins of his old home. The pulsing grew stronger, coming from somewhere among the ruins. He walked among the debris until he came to where the pulsing felt strongest. Some magical thing was lost among the debris. With a wave of his wand Dieter lifted the stone and rubble, searching for what was causing the pulsing. He shifted through the remains of plaster and wood until he came to a small box. He picked it up and examined it closely. It was warm. He opened the box up and found a ring: a silver hoop covered with what looked like diamonds. The ring shrank in Dieter's hand. Dieter looked at it and, throwing caution to the wind, slipped it onto his right index finder, and felt a tug behind his navel and the world swirl around him as he disappeared.

When the world stopped spinning around him Dieter found himself in a large, circular room. 'What the hell,' he thought to himself. He looked down at the ring on his finger, and noticed it slightly glowing. The ring had been a portkey. 'But to where?' he asked himself.

Behind him there were large double doors. The floor and surrounding wall were made of stone. There was barely any light in the room. In front of him there looked to be a doorway that led off into the darkness. Getting out his wand, Dieter lit it up and started walking across the room. The room was very cold.

Through the doorway there was a massive chamber. Dieter could not see how large it was but when he entered the chamber his footsteps echoed loudly. Dieter walked further into the chamber. There were two curved staircases, one on each side of the room and symmetrical to each other. Dieter ignored these and continued on through the chamber, keeping a firm grip on his wand. Everything was silent except for his footsteps, which echoed creepily off the walls of the seemingly empty chamber. Dieter increased the light given off by his wand, fully illuminating the chamber. In the middle of the chamber there was a long table. Beyond the table, at the end of the hall, there were two doorways on each side of a large hearth. With a flick of his wand Dieter ignited the wood in the hearth. The hall was instantly filled with a little more warmth. Dieter then noticed a series of torches on the walls of the chamber, and ignited those too, making the chamber a lot less gloomy.

For the next couple of hours Dieter explored the castle (he assumed it was castle, judging by its size). He started on the ground floor and then explored the dungeons. The place was massive. He left little balls of light in the air, marking where he had come from to prevent getting lost. In the dungeons, he had come across several things. First was a huge potions lab. Dieter was excited about this, as the lab was equipped with rather expensive-looking, although a little dusty, equipment that would be perfect for some novel experiments. Second was a dueling chamber the likes of which he had never seen before. It was colossal. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of a type of granite that was laced with ambient magic, making it nigh indestructible and perfect for harsh duels.

The most surprising discovery though had been a huge chamber at the very bottom of the castle foundations. Dieter would not have found it, if the ring on his finger had not shown him where to go. He had been exploring several of the rooms when he noticed a strong magic surrounding a small hole in one of the walls. He had walked over to it when his ring started vibrating madly. The vibration got stronger as he got closer to the hole. The hole was a little larger than his finger, and he surmised that he needed to put the finger with the ring in the hole when it began to glow. He did so and felt a warm tingling, and then a sharp pain as the tip of his finger was locked into place and pricked. There was a bright flash of light and his finger was released. The wall next to the hole disappeared and Dieter had gone down the steps that had appeared. Dieter could feel powerful wards and other magics examining him as he descended. At the bottom of the steps there was a flat landing that led to a large metal door. Standing in front of the gate were two large statues. However, something felt a little off to him. There was magic surrounding them. Stepping closer, he examined them. The statues were of manticores, and were very detailed and intricate. Dieter praised the artisan who constructed such works of art. The level of detail made the statues appear to be alert and vigilant sentinels.

He passed by the statues and stopped in front of the gate. As he was examining it, he heard a soft sound from behind him. He quickly spun around to see a large scorpion tail heading at his face. He dodged the tail and brought out his wand, leveling it at the faces of the statue-creatures. A little bit of light from the room reflected off the ring on his finger, and the two statues noticed it. Suddenly, they stopped their assault and lowered themselves into deep bows, before climbing back up onto their pedestals and returning to statue form.

"Ok then," Dieter said to himself. That had been odd. But he turned his focus away from the two sentinel statues and brought it upon the metal gate. Obviously, there was something of value hidden behind the gate. Why else would there have been two magically animated constructs ready to attack him? Had it not been for the ring, they would not have stopped.

Dieter's attention was drawn to a small groove in the door. The groove was semicircular and a couple centimeters long. The ring once again started vibrating madly. He stroked his finger across the groove, noticing that the ring fit perfectly, and noticed several clicks and clangs coming from the other side of the door. A few moments later, the door was open and Dieter was faced with a dark chamber. Upon entering the chamber, torches on the walls were lit and the contents of the room illuminated. A majority of the chamber was covered with stacked crates. They were each about a little over a meter long, a meter wide, and half a meter tall.

Dieter stepped over to the nearest crate, evaluated it for any latent curses or other such magics, and after noticing none opened it. The crate was completely filled with gold coins. He went to another crate and checked it. It too was filled with gold coins. Dieter looked on in shock. The chamber had hundreds if not thousands of crates in it. And if each was filled with that much gold…

"Holy shit," was all Dieter could say. Whoever owned this place (he was getting the feeling that it was he) was wealthy beyond measure. But how had the previous owner become so rich? Dieter sat down on top of one of the crates and began to think. He had found the ring in the Warlock's home, so perhaps the Warlock had been the owner? But if the Warlock—Grindelwald—had been the owner, why had he lived in such a shitty little shack? The man owned a castle. Why had he raised Dieter in the middle of nowhere when he could have raised him in the massive castle? There were a lot of questions that Dieter wanted answered, but he knew they would not be since the man who would know them was now dead.

He looked at the ring again. The light from the torches was making the diamonds have a soft orange glow. He slid the ring off his finger and examined it more closely. Had this ring belonged to the Warlock? He noticed no signs of ownership on the ring. It was unlikely that it would not. Perhaps that information was hidden? Clenching the ring in he willed it to reveal its secrets. He felt the ring grow slightly warm. He examined the ring again, and noticed something. On the inside of the band was a small inscription: Forever in Strength is Grindelwald. It was written in German, but Dieter was gifted when it came to languages. He intuitively understood different languages. It was a gift his mentor had been most pleased to discover.

"So all of this is my mentor's property, then," Dieter said to himself. "Which in turn would make it mine, judging by the reaction of this ring." Damn. He needed a drink.

Voldemort smiled gently as he leisurely traipsed through the ancient corridors of Slytherin's Fortress. Salazar Slytherin had personally designed the place, and had overseen its construction. The entire construction was surrounded by a wall ten meters high, and three meters thick. The fortress itself was a beautiful castle. The beauty was magnified by the intimidating battlements and most of all, the terrifying central tower. It was unbelievably tall and had been given the nickname Slytherin's Eye.

Salazar Slytherin was a great and powerful wizard. Terrifyingly powerful, even. Lord Voldemort was pleased that he had come from such a distinguished and strong bloodline. However, Lord Voldemort knew he had transcended even the infamous Salazar Slytherin's power.

The last fifteen years had taught him much. He had made a mistake that day, attacking the Potters. He had miscalculated. But no magic would ever be able to stop him again. His time as a spirit had given him great insight. He had learned things that none had learned before; things that would destroy a weaker man.

The second rising of Voldemort would come swift, and Lord Voldemort would destroy all competition. He had the power to do so now. None would challenge the rule of Voldemort!

He would make his first move soon. The Wizarding world would be shocked to see him, alive and stronger than ever before. And with the prophecy voided, there was no one able to stop him. The Potter boy was no longer alive, and thus the prophecy no longer applied. Everything was perfect.

Voldemort laughed.

Dieter downed another glass of firewhiskey. The liquid burned at his throat but became a soft warmness that settled in his stomach. The burning helped to clear his thoughts.

Currently Dieter was sitting in a bar in Athens, Greece. It mainly served customers of a shadier sort. He had altered parts of his body to give himself a more mature look, though he doubted the bartender would have cared. The man only had a permanent angry look on his face. Dieter knew that the man only cared about money, and as long as he was paid for the drinks he'd leave a customer alone.

Dieter gave a quick and discrete check of the room, checking for any possible danger. It was a habit the Warlock had forced upon him. "Be alert or be dead!" was one of his favorite phrases.

His check found nothing of any danger. The bar was empty save for a couple hags and a werewolf. Briefly Dieter pondered insulting the werewolf and starting a fight. He could do with a little exercise. Hurting something was pretty appealing. He finally decided against it, after noticing the man was rather scrawny and would not put up much of a fight. Dieter was disappointed. He turned back to the bartender and ordered another drink.

As Dieter was concentrating on his beverage, the door to the bar opened and three cloaked figures entered. They looked around for a bit and then walked over to the bartender. They ordered drinks and sat in the stools in front of the counter.

Dieter was instantly on alert. He had noticed them enter, but had not caught their scent until they sat down at the bar. He would recognize that smell anywhere. The three cloaked persons were vampires. Dieter made sure to keep his face impassive.

One of the cloaked figures turned and looked at him, and didn't look away. Dieter discretely drew his wand and was ready. He could tell they were after him. No doubt because of his recent escapades.

The vampire that had been looking at him suddenly stood up and walked closer to Dieter. The two others came around his sides. The lead vampire leaned down towards Dieter and whispered in his ear.

"I am going to rip out your insides and bleed you dry, little slave."

Dieter smirked. This was going to be fun.

Quick as a flash he knocked his head into the vampire's, and then spun around on the stool and kicked the vampire in the chest. The vampire was launched backwards. The two other vampires sprung into action: one tried grabbing him and the other drew a dagger and brought it down at him with inhuman speed. Dieter let the first vampire grip on to him, and then flung him around into the path of the dagger. The dagger plunged into the flesh of the first vampire and the vampire screamed in pain. Dieter grabbed the second vampire's hand and pushed it hard, creating a deep wound in the first vampire. The vampire leader, after having recovered, drew another dagger and brought himself into the fight. Dieter tore the dagger from the second vampire's hand and dodged the blade of the leader. Dieter caught the arm and gripped it tightly. He brought his dagger up and cut off the hand of the vampire leader. After that he delivered a powerful elbow into the throat of the detained leader, crushing it and silencing the vampire's scream. He then took the dagger and stabbed it into the face of second vampire. By this time the first vampire had overcome his wound and thrust his fist out to knock him across the face, but Dieter merely caught it with his palm. The vampire pushed with all his strength but was surprised when could not make Dieter's hand move. No matter how strong or fast the vampires were they were no where near his own strength. Dieter chuckled at how foolish these vampires were to attack him. And to think he had not even used magic…well, he supposed he could remedy that. He brought his other hand up and released a bolt of fire at the vampire who tried to punch him. Instantly the vampire was engulfed in flames and started screaming in pain. Before the other two vampires could move Dieter had done the same to them. Dieter only laughed as the vampires became a pile of ash in a matter of seconds.

"I think not, vampire." Dieter smirked at the pile of ash at his feet. What a pity. At least he had gotten some exercise. A small noise gathered his attention. The bartender had dropped a glass and the patrons were looking at him with more than a little fear.

"Sorry about the mess," he said to the bartender as he tossed him a couple galleons. Still smiling, he took one last swig of his drink and exited the bar.

Number 12 Grimmauld place was awash with activity as the Order of the Phoenix conducted one of its meetings. Sirius Black had decided to let the Order use his old family home as a headquarters. Sirius loved the idea of a light-sided organization using his dark family's ancestral home. It was like a wonderful slap in the face for them.

James Potter was sitting next to his wife Lily, pinching the bridge of his nose to help stave off an impeding headache. Already he was getting tired of these meetings. He had had enough of them during Voldemort's first reign as a Dark Lord, and was not excited about a likely second one. He just wanted to go home and spend as much time as possible with his children before they went off to Hogwarts for the school year.

"… and Voldemort has not called for his Death Eaters since the first time the Mark burned. I do not know why this is, but the Dark Lord never does anything without a specific and well calculated reason." And James was especially getting tired of hearing Snape talk.

Finally the meeting was concluded, and James saw a chance to ask Dumbledore a question that had been plaguing his mind for a while. He told Lily to go home without him. She looked at him curiously but did so. Dumbledore saw him approaching and gave him a small smile.

"You looked rather bored this evening, James. I daresay I haven't seen you like that since you were a student in History of Magic!" He gave a small laugh.

James wasn't really in the mood to laugh. He just wanted to ask this question and leave. "Albus, since Voldemort never truly died, and was able to return, is there a possibility that Harry might not have died as well? There never was a body, and the Killing Curse normally leaves a corpse."

Dumbledore was deeply saddened by James' hopeful gaze. He really did not want to encourage that hope, knowing that Harry was most certainly dead. It would be devastating for James to think that Harry might have lived, only to some day find true proof of his undeniable death. Dumbledore placed his hand on James' shoulder in a comforting way, and James noticed that Dumbledore looked much older than normal. "I'm afraid to say, James, that Harry could not have survived his encounter with Voldemort. Voldemort has delved into deep and unforgiving magics that protected him from death. Harry did not have such protection. I am sorry, my friend, but your son has passed on. If there is any advice I have to offer, it is to remember him, but remember also to live your life, and cherish the lives of your other children." Dumbledore squeezed James shoulder gently, and then left.

James stood where he was for a couple minutes, repeating what Dumbledore said in his mind. James' hope had been crushed. James felt a tear run down his cheek. If there was one wish he could have, one thing he could ask for, it would be to see his son again. His son that was never able to grow up. An undeniable hatred swelled up in him. If it had not been for Voldemort his son would be living happily with his parents and two younger siblings. If it had not been for Peter, James' own FRIEND, Harry would be dating girls and getting into trouble and James would be teaching him the finer points of Quidditch and mischief-making. James hated them both: Voldemort the Murderer, and Pettigrew the Betrayer. If he ever got his hands on either of them, he would crush their life out. The air crackled around him with an electrical charge as James let his hatred overwhelm him.

Sirius Black was out saying goodbye to everyone when suddenly he felt his skin tingle. Someone was doing some powerful uncontrolled magic, and he had a feeling who might responsible. When he finally discovered James, he was proven correct. Sirius knew his friend had been a little short on the temper recently, and he could understand why. Sirius in fact felt the same way.

He gave his best friend a comforting hug. "It's all right Prongs, it's ok."

"I hate them Padfoot! If I ever see either of them again, I'll kill them!"

Sirius knew who the "two" were. He hated them too. They were both spineless bastards who had taken the life of his friend's son, and his own godson, because of some bullshit prophecy.

James finally calmed down and apologized for his outburst. Sirius just waved it off and told him to go spend some time with his wife and children. James gave Sirius a slight smile of appreciation, and left.

They were brothers: true brothers, in everything but blood. Sirius would always be there for his brother, his best friend, and James would do the same.

Dieter was calmly strolling down the streets of Athens, whistling a tune. The fight with the vampires had put him in a good mood. He had needed to vent some frustration, and they were the perfect outlet.

He had decided to do some sightseeing in Athens. Now that he was no longer forced to train all day, he could enjoy life a little. So he continued to wander the magnificent city, clearly noticing the presence of wizards and wizarding shops among the muggles. If Dieter had to pick, he would say that he enjoyed the muggle world more than the wizard one. Muggles were so much more ingenious than wizards; they actually put their minds to use. Most wizards were loony and borderline psychotic. Though this allowed for a substantial capacity for creativity, most wizards had neither the will nor the focus to pursue it. Wizards had grown quite lax because of how easy it made life.

Dieter eventually stumbled upon the Wizard's Library of Athens. It was a magnificently large building of immaculate white marble, surrounding by large Corinthian columns. Dieter knew that it was one of the largest wizard libraries in the world, and housed millions of assorted texts and manuscripts. There was only one other library that was larger than it, and that was the Library of Alexandria (Dieter had half a mind to go there instead, as it was supposed to be fascinating beyond comprehension). However, the Wizard's Library would still be interesting.

He entered the building and was immediately greeted by a large statue. A plaque mentioned that the statue was of Athena, a marvelously brilliant witch (and also an apparent goddess to the muggles because of her powers, which she did not hide) of ancient times who commissioned the construction of the Library. Dieter gave the statue a final appreciative gaze and moved on.

Beyond the statue were enormous bookcases, each filled with thousands of tomes, with hundreds of wizards and witches climbing up and down them looking for books. Dieter marveled at the site. He meandered through the shelves for hours, collecting various interesting grimoires and tomes. He found an empty table and sat down to read. He skimmed through a couple; namely the ones on spellwork and magic theory (he scoffed at the authors' very basic and primitive understandings of magic) but quickly grew weary of those. He moved onto another one, A History of Dark Wizards (he had picked this tome up to do some research on the owner of the skull symbol that had been floating above his ruined home, as he knew the caster would have to be well versed in the Dark Arts) and found that book to be far more fascinating. Eventually, he found an illustration that fit the symbol. The caption beneath the image read:

This is the Dark Mark of the Dark Lord Voldemort. During his reign as the chief practitioner of Dark Magic in Europe, this symbol was associated with fear and death. Voldemort and his followers—the Death Eaters—cast this mark after committing a murder. This Mark created uncontrollable fear, as no one ever survived facing Voldemort (one exception, see pg. 1066).

Intrigued, Dieter flipped to the aforementioned page. The entry read:

The Dark Lord Voldemort, better known as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was a self-proclaimed Dark Lord of Europe from 1959 to 1981. His true name was never discovered, though he did declare himself a descendant of the Hogwarts Founder Salazar Slytherin. This was never verified, as no known records of Slytherin's bloodline exist.

Voldemort was extremely gifted in the arts of magic. He was often regarded as one of the greatest sorcerers of the age, second perhaps only to Albus Dumbledore (his eventual defeater in 1981). His skill in sorcery drove many people to fear him, so much so that eventually the populace dared not speak his name. It was said that whoever Voldemort wanted dead, died.

His skill at dueling was unparalleled. Out of the hundreds of duels he encountered, he only ever suffered one defeat—his final at the hands of Albus Dumbledore. Many powerful wizards and witches from all over the world challenged him, but all were defeated and killed by his ruthless spellwork.

Voldemort was also a brilliant strategist. His genius intellect and his ability to think on his feet allowed him to plan and execute raids with merciless efficiency. He was able to hold off large-scale attacks using only his small group of followers. The most famous incidence of this was the London Massacre. Voldemort and ten of his followers attacked the metropolitan area of London, killing near 176 muggles and 32 Aurors without a single casualty.

Interrogations by Death Eaters caught during the Great Arrests have revealed that Voldemort would often use his skill at Legilimency and the Imperious Curse to control and coordinate the minds of his Death Eaters.

His charisma was astounding. In the earlier days of his reign, he would often give fiery speeches and dramatic displays to attract followers. He promised power, prestige, and wealth, and delivered. It is believed that Voldemort had control of many Wizarding businesses, and amassed a great wealth which he used to fund his campaign.

The power of Voldemort was extended by the strength of his followers. The Inner Circle of Death Eaters was constituted by very powerful witches and wizards who were often sadistic and as ruthless as Voldemort himself. The Inner Circle was completely faithful to Voldemort, and put their powers at his command. Many of these Death Eaters are currently located in the island prison of Azkaban, where they serve life sentences for their crimes.

Voldemort was defeated in 1981 by Albus Dumbledore (defeater of previous Dark Lord Emmerich Grindelwald 1945, see pg. 1017). Voldemort had decided to personally execute an Auror and his family— the Potters— but was caught by Dumbledore and killed in the succeeding duel. Unfortunately, the Potters' young son Harry was killed by Voldemort before his demise.

Dieter finished reading and sat back in his chair with a sigh. So his master's killer was somehow related to this Voldemort. It counted be Voldemort, as he was apparently dead. But wait…he had had that nightmare…about a ceremony. A ceremony of sacrificed children and cloaked figures, blood and flame. Could this Voldemort have found a way to return to life?

"That's not possible," Dieter whispered quietly, to himself. If there was one limit to magic it was that the dead could not come back to life. But…when dealing with magic, who knew what the limits could be? There could very well be no limit to magic. His mentor had often said the same. But still, the death of his mentor and the nightmare of the ceremony seemed to be far too related to be just a simple coincidence.

Albus Dumbledore was quietly pondering in his office while simultaneously stroking Fawkes the phoenix. Petting the phoenix was calming, and Dumbledore needed that. He thought of all the potential attacks by Voldemort. He thought about the prophecy, and if it still held meaning. He thought of all the lives lost to Voldemort. He thought of his students, and wondered if they would be safe this coming year. He thought of James Potter and his family. The man was like a son to him, and Dumbledore couldn't stand seeing the man so broken as he was during the Order meeting.

He was getting too old to be commanding counterterrorism, but he would not wish the duty on anyone else. It was his lot in life to be the commander, the figurehead, the unflinching leader.

He could not shake the feeling that this was going to be his final conflict.

And Chapter 4 is out! Sorry it took so long. You probably don't care about excuses but I'll give one anyway. School decided to kick me in the balls by giving me a bunch of crap to do, and then I had spring break. I had most of this written, but just finally finished it, so let me know what you think!