MeowthTL
patreon
HP/LOTM: Visionary - 315
🕑 Added 2025-09-21 19:07:27 +0000 UTCChapter 315: Traces and Schemes
Aiden pulled Newt and Jacob along, diving headfirst into the collective unconscious sea.
"Uh, whoa, oh—" Jacob's screams echoed across the English Channel.
"Merlin's beard, you're way more powerful than before," Newt murmured on the dragon's back, gripping tightly.
Below them spread a grey, misty sea where the entire ocean and islands seemed drained of colour. Only the bubbles floating up from the distant islands revealed hints of vibrant life.
"Jesus, why can't I see anything?" Jacob groped around blindly until his hands found Newt, and he finally calmed down.
"Sorry, Jacob. I cut off your vision to prevent you from directly seeing my true body."
The dragon turned its massive head to look at the two passengers on its back.
Newt was characteristically straightforward, already pulling out paper and pen to start recording observations.
"What kind of creature are you exactly?" Newt asked while scribbling notes.
He casually jotted down: 'Dragon species', 'Can traverse the Mirror of Erised', 'Try not to look directly at the symbols on its body—they produce strange thoughts'...
Aiden sensed that Newt was creating a detailed file on him and couldn't help but be amused.
"Just consider me a wizard. After all, isn't my current form what wizards tirelessly pursue?" Aiden replied with dry humour.
"I bet those Prewett family members would go absolutely crazy if they saw you," Newt said without looking up from his notes.
"Aiden, Newt, what're you talking about? What pursuit and Prewett stuff?" Jacob asked from his blind world.
After flying for what felt like hours, Aiden sensed they were close to their destination. The ripples in the surrounding consciousness sea had begun showing words like 'snails' and 'French cuisine'.
Taking the two upward through dimensional layers, a huge dragon shadow flashed briefly over the Seine River, but no one below paid attention.
Then Aiden materialised with them by the riverbanks.
"I don't like that method, but at least I didn't get seasick," Jacob commented after his vision returned.
"If you'd dared vomit on my scales, I would've killed you!" A certain dragon threatened with mock viciousness.
"Come on, follow me." Newt led the way toward an ornate statue in the distance.
A policeman and an elderly woman stood in front of the monument. Aiden snapped his fingers casually, and the two turned and walked away as if suddenly attracted by something more interesting.
The group arrived at the French magical shopping district, bustling with afternoon activity.
"Revelio tracks."
Newt held his wand like a trumpet, spinning as he blew golden dust in all directions around them.
"Accio Niffler." A particularly talented Niffler was summoned from the case by Newt's magic.
"Quickly now." Newt urged, and the creature began sniffing around enthusiastically on the cobblestone ground.
Nearby, the dragon took the ten Galleons he'd cleverly conned from Newt and headed to a nearby food shop with obvious anticipation.
"Picardy rolls, flaming pancakes, Lorraine meat pies..."
After paying with his ill-gotten gains, four or five paper bags floated obediently behind Aiden as he walked out of the aromatic shop.
Outside, in front of Newt, the golden tracking dust had formed into the shape of a huge cat with prominent fangs.
"This is a Zouwu, a powerful creature from the East with tremendous strength and speed. Riding one can cover a thousand miles in a single day," Newt explained to the fascinated Jacob.
"A thousand miles in a day? Holy smokes, that's faster than any train!" Jacob responded with obvious amazement.
"That means it could cross all of Paris in one step." Newt followed the eager Niffler and discovered Tina's distinctive footprints in the dust.
"Want some?" Aiden made a paper bag containing flame pancakes float temptingly toward the two men.
But Newt wasn't in the mood to eat at the moment. He was quickly following a magical feather, desperate to find whoever had been tracking Tina.
As the three were led by the glowing feather toward a nearby sewer entrance, elsewhere in the city...
Queenie entered the imposing French Ministry of Magic building. Unable to find any news about her sister's whereabouts, she sat dejectedly on a Paris street corner, overwhelmed by despair.
The mental voices of countless passersby nearly drove her to complete collapse.
Vinda Rosier, who'd just finished stealing a registry of pure-blood wizard families from the Paris Ministry archives, thoughtfully patted Queenie's shoulder with false sympathy.
Queenie was led away by her into a shadowy alley. With a sharp crack of Apparition, they both disappeared.
The alley returned to quiet stillness. The next second, a flying feather led three concerned people into the same empty space.
"Found anything?" Aiden asked, seeing the feather spinning aimlessly in the air.
"No, whoever it was cast powerful concealment magic around here. The feather can't track him anymore."
Newt studied the feather's behaviour and deduced the situation, then reached out to Aiden with obvious hunger.
"Give me some of that food."
Aiden handed over the perfectly roasted meat he'd bought earlier.
Finding a random café on the busy street, ordering several cups of strong coffee and spreading out their purchases, they began the patient wait for their prey.
On the other side of the city, in a small, rundown house at the end of the Champs-Élysées.
Credence, accompanied by Nagini, whom he'd heroically rescued the night before, knocked hesitantly on the weathered door.
"Are you Irma Dugard?" Credence enquired hopefully.
Through layers of faded curtains, he glimpsed a half-blood goblin peering out at him.
"Your name's written on my adoption certificate." Credence crouched down to her level, showing the document.
"I'm not your mother, child. I'm just a servant," Irma said gently but firmly.
"Oh, you were such a beautiful baby. Now look at you—a handsome young man." Irma cupped his face tenderly.
But Credence didn't notice at all that an old woman who'd been separated from him for over ten years could somehow recognise a former baby at first sight.
With a sudden crack of Apparition, Gunnar Grimmson materialised inside the house with predatory intent.
This fierce magical creature hunter raised his wand without hesitation, and a sickly green curse shot out.
Irma was struck by the Killing Curse, lost her life instantly, and collapsed to the floor.
The surrounding house was blown apart by the Obscurial's unleashed power.
Grimmson's expression turned grim as he quickly surrounded himself with a shimmering protective barrier.
"Ah!" Credence roared in anguish, and black mist shattered the surrounding debris, rushing toward Grimmson like a living thing.
But the magical shield held firm, leaving the assassin completely unharmed.
Seeing that direct magical attacks were ineffective, Credence pulled the surrounding rubble toward himself, constantly crushing and hurling it at Grimmson.
Grimmson waved his wand with practised efficiency, shattering both the protective barrier and the house debris simultaneously, then vanished in another spatial flash.
As the dust settled, Credence stood numbly in the middle of the completely ruined house, staring down at Irma's lifeless body.
Grimmson Apparated to a dark bridge underpass where a familiar figure in expensive leather clothing waited.
"How is the boy progressing?" Grindelwald enquired with casual interest.
"He's extremely sensitive to emotional triggers." Grimmson looked somewhat panicked—the recent confrontation had obviously left him genuinely terrified.
"The Ministry would be furious if they knew I'd done this," Grimmson said nervously.
"I understand my reputation precedes me..."
"Listen to me carefully." Grindelwald stepped forward to adjust Grimmson's collar with deceptive gentleness.
"What cowards least want to do is praise the truly brave. The time is coming soon. When wizards rule the world as they should, your name will be revered by all."
Grindelwald's seductive words floated around Grimmson's ears as he reached out to support the shaken man.
"You must watch over Credence carefully. Take very good care of him. For... the greater good."
Grimmson's eyes showed sudden determination as he repeated the familiar phrase:
"For the greater good."
