After Leon finished speaking, he pointed his wand at a vampire.
A flash of excitement surged in his eyes. "Avada Suomin!"
A dazzling green light tore through the crowd, hitting a vampire square in the chest.
The vampire crumpled to the ground silently with a heavy thud, shattering the fragile calm that had momentarily held the battlefield.
In the next instant, more than thirty vampires soared into the air, their pitch-black cloaks swirling violently in the night wind, eclipsing the starlight.
Roused from their stupor by Moriarty's flamboyant display of magic, the pureblood students snapped into action, drawing their wands with precision.
"Crucio Maximus!"
"Fiendfyre Incantare!"
"Combusto!"
"Fragmentum Totalis!"
"Protego Maxima!"
"Expecto Patronum!"
An array of spells erupted from the purebloods, weaving a chaotic web of magical light across the battlefield. The vampires responded with their own brand of dark magic and transformations. The battlefield descended into a frenzy of combat, the tension rising with every explosion and scream.
After casting the Killing Curse, Leon stumbled back, drained of strength. Tonks, undeterred, called out, "Michelle!" and her Patronus—a bright white rabbit—leapt into the fray, bringing with it a wave of purifying energy that disrupted the vampires' dark aura. But the rabbit was soon intercepted by a vampire.
Charlie raised his wand, summoning a dragon of flame with a sweeping motion. The fiery beast lunged toward the vampires in the sky, fangs bared and wings ablaze.
The vampires sneered in response, some transforming grotesquely.
One sprouted the arm of a werewolf and crushed the fiery dragon with brute force. Others unfurled bat-like wings and soared through the air, engaging the fiery construct in mid-flight.
Two elder vampires began chanting in unison. They conjured a thick black substance that slithered through the air and twisted into a blood-red web. It spread wide, descending toward the pureblood students like a suffocating net of death.
Jericho raised his wand, shouting, "Fall! Fear! Crumble!"
The blood web resisted the spells, pressing down relentlessly, filling the air with the stench of decay.
"The split spell doesn't work," Leon rasped. "Let me try something stronger!"
Despite his exhaustion, he lifted his wand and narrowed his eyes. "Sectumsempra!"
Shrrkk!
The blood web was slashed into shreds, the slicing magic parting it as if it were mere cloth. Jericho quickly followed up with several more spells, obliterating the remnants.
"That's Snape's signature spell, isn't it?" Tonks asked, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Leon.
Then she smirked. "Time to show off something from my house. Here's a spell created by Professor Sprout, a true Hufflepuff legacy!"
She waved her wand and shouted, "Muze Confinement!"
The ground beneath the approaching vampire turned to marshy sludge. Unable to keep its footing, the vampire slipped and was dragged downward. Clumps of mud rained from above, covering its face and weighing it down. The vampire flailed and gasped, only to be sucked into the depths of the swamp.
"Hufflepuffs come from the earth," Tonks said with a flourishing bow toward the sinking swamp.
The others exchanged glances, reminded suddenly that Tonks carried Black family blood as well.
"Well done," Charlie grinned. "But now it's Gryffindor's turn to shine."
"Combusto Solaris!"
Charlie launched five blazing fireballs high into the air, turning the night sky orange with light and heat. The flames crackled fiercely, making even the stars retreat behind their glow.
"So much heat," Tonks gasped, noticing how even Moriarty's conjured cold and rain began to evaporate.
The fireballs hovered above like miniature suns, warping the air with their intensity. The vampires recoiled, screaming as they retreated, smoke rising from their flesh.
"The Gryffindor Sun," Charlie said, eyes gleaming as sweat poured down his brow. "Inspired by Moriarty's Three-State Magical Theory—Professor McGonagall helped refine it using Transfiguration principles. Vampires can't hide from the sun!"
Not all vampires were like Archduke Quinlan. These lesser creatures weakened in sunlight, their skin blistering, their instincts screaming in panic. They shielded themselves with their cloaks and fled.
"Don't be afraid! They're just students!" one aged vampire bellowed, trying to rally them.
Watching from the castle, an elderly Jewish man sneered.
"Fools! Students? Did you not see that curse? Hogwarts must be a British dark wizard academy! And Dumbledore—he must be the ultimate Dark Lord! Where did these monsters come from!?"
He turned to his grandson, Isaac.
"You see, Isaac, though our family may not be vampire nobility, we've thrived in France for generations. Know why?"
Isaac, distracted by the girl in his arms, murmured, "Because… you're old?"
The old man smacked his head. "Because I know how to read people. Never provoke monsters beyond your understanding."
He gestured to the battlefield. "That student—he downed Archduke Quinlan! Remember that."
Isaac glanced at the chaotic fight, and the girl in his arms felt even more precious by comparison.
Back in the sky, the two vampire elders exchanged a solemn look. They hovered high, untouched by the fray.
"Blood Curse: Offer Blood to Awaken the Devil!"
They slit their fingers, letting blood float into the air. A dreadful, ancient magic surged outward, oppressive and vile.
We can't let them finish the spell!
The purebloods realized it instantly. But the vampires blocked their path with suicidal aggression, diving toward the group with rage. Their target was clear—Charlie.
"Your magic's fading, redhead! You're dead meat!" a vampire cackled as others transformed into wolf-limbed monstrosities and sprinted low to the ground.
"Protego Totalum!"
"Protego Horribilis!"
Leon shouted over the chaos, "Wards up! Use the strongest shields you know!"
"Super Armor!"
"Body Barrier!"
Tonks summoned her Patronus once more.
Then Jericho gasped. "Marcus?! What are you doing!?"
The tall boy was charging toward a vampire with wolf legs.
"I've no magical talent! But I've got strength. I'll hold them off!"
With a roar, Marcus collided with the vampire. The beast raised its claw to slash his head—
Jericho quickly cast, "Vacuum Bind!"
The spell yanked the air out of the left side of the vampire's stance, unbalancing it. Marcus struck, knocking the vampire sideways.
CRASH!
The vampire tumbled, and Marcus pounced, jabbing his wand furiously at its face.
"Fragmentum! Split! Split apart!"
His spells fizzled. Marcus's technique was poor, but he didn't stop.
"Crack! Crack! Shatter! Splinter!"
The vampire's face was bloodied, pulverized under the desperate barrage. Blood sprayed everywhere, even seeping beneath Marcus's boots.
Still, he muttered, "Split… split…!"
A hand touched his shoulder.
"Marcus."
Moriarty's calm voice brought him back. "It's done."
Marcus blinked, saw the gore on his hands, and fainted on the spot.
"You did well. Leave the rest to us."
Moriarty knelt and tapped his staff to the ground.
A ripple of soft blue light spread outward like a rising tide.
"Ocean Fraternity."
The tide swept through the pureblood ranks, surrounding their feet with gentle light. Warmth surged through their bodies, fear dissipated, exhaustion vanished.
Charlie and Leon, who had nearly collapsed, now stood reinvigorated, fire returning to their eyes.
The vampires shrank back.
"What now, Lord Counts?" one vampire asked the elders.
Moriarty looked calmly at the two figures.
"So you are vampire Earls of the Quinlan line. Impressive. A noble house rarely boasts even one Earl. And yet, here you stand with two… and an Archduke."
He glanced at the unconscious form of Archduke Quinlan, then back to the reborn resolve of the pureblood students.
This battle was ready to end.
Moriarty pulled a small vial from his cloak—a basic magic-replenishing potion—and drank it in a single gulp.
Then, with calm precision, he joined the pureblood line.
He drew out his cedar wand with his left hand, while his right gripped the legendary Slytherin wand.
Both wands lifted.
Magic pulsed from him like a tidal wave.
Water element surged heavenward.
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