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HP: Reaper of the Wizarding World

*Disclaimer: Follows main story for about 20 chapters* Death? It is often described as the embodiment of fear, man or God alike. But to Soren, it is the beginning, middle, and end of his journey. To this young man, Death is the start of his struggles through life. Watch as Soren fights to save his family from the grips of Death and struggles to live a happy life. .https://www.patreon.com/SykoNex https://discord.gg/S4YYqnF Type into general: $Rank Readers   

SirSyko · Book&Literature
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175 Chs

Isla

(A/N: You all have no idea how hard this chapter was for me to write lol. I hope you enjoy.)

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Sin flies off the dragon into my embrace merging with the shadows. Raising my arms the shadows around the room awaken from their rest on the ground and whip around the dragon.

Sensing the danger the dragon lets out a roar along with a breath of fire trying to stave off the darkness, but it is all for naught. The shadows rise into a ball cradling the dragon containing its flames but for the first time ever I feel a weight being pressed against me. It feels like a mixture of physical and mental pressure and I am certain that it is coming from my cloak. It's the feeling of being pushed back…

Manipulating my cloak I form the ball into nine massive tendrils. The dragon flaps its massive wings smacking a few of my tendrils down causing them to fade to black mist. With the remaining four tendrils I restrain its wings holding them against the ground.

As the beast slams against the ground, I 'see' it shoot me a hateful glare. I feel this is natural but even with my 'sight' I can tell there is the intelligence behind its eyes.

Without time for me to react, I see its throat swell with orange light. With a wave of a hand, my shroud covers me and the twins, Enki, and Gil, while the flames desperately try to claw through my 'shield'. Of course, my guard is not nearly broken but having not focused on my tendrils I can no longer feel my connection to them.

As my wall falls I see that my tendrils have now been dismantled and have vanished into the shadows along the ground. The dragon's scales are now glowing red hot from the flames it breathed and its breathing has now become visibly heavy. Without hesitation, my shadows once again form tendrils, as many as I can muster, and tie the dragon down like rope.

Seeing its throat begin to glow again I form another much smaller tendril to wrap its mouth so it can't spew its liquid flames again.

Reaching out mentally I speak into its mind, 'Submit' my chilling voice enters its mind.

Feeling it struggle, I shift once again back into my human form. Once in my human form, I can feel the heat from the room around me and quickly grow uncomfortable. Getting a better view, now I can see that the room around me is now essentially glassed over. Meeting the dragon's eyes once again I can see hatred in its eyes along with that spark of intelligence. It understands its situation.

Stepping within a foot of the dragon I lean close and look deep into its eyes. Pulling out my wand I place it on the dragon's massive head and use legilimency to assault its mind.

Using the darkness I pierce its mind invading its thoughts and I am met by memories:

A small hatchling lays curled in a small nest in a hut not far from a fireplace and cauldron full of food. The hatchling is content and happy as an older thing man with a large grey beard tends to the fire beneath the food with a jolly look on his face. The man's face is obscured but I know that this man is the hatchlings 'mother'.

With a soft look and kind smile, the man leans over stroking the back of the hatchling. The hatchling shakes happily as it nuzzles its head into the man's hand with a childish glee only the young and ignorant could feel.

"Don't worry my little Isla, the dragon hunts will be over soon enough. Don't you worry, I will protect you till the end."

The young dragon does not really understand the words but nonetheless, they make it feel safe.

"Here, eat." The old man uses a ladle to pour some food into a bowl sliding it towards the hatchling.

The memory fades and the scenery changes to that of a large forest.

The older man is now wearing dark robes while carrying a slightly older hatchling in his arms. His face seems worn and ragged as he hadn't slept in quite a few days. The child is afraid, shivering despite the warm summer air.

With a brisk pace, the man is pushing through the thick brush panting heavily while stroking the young dragon.

"Don't worry my little Isla, we are almost at Hogwarts. Not far now-"

*BOOM*

He is cut off by the sound of a tree exploding next to them. Turning his head the old man sees three beast-like men in bright red robes chasing them.

Pulling out a wand from his robes he turns while he begins running, "Expulso!"

*BOOM*

A blue light strikes the tree nearest the front pursuer causing it to fall in front of him. The old man's grip tightens around the hatchling as he makes a mad dash toward the forest's edge. With a leap, he manages to leave the boundary of the forest causing a bright smile to flourish on his worn face.

Five more beastly-faced men in scarlet robes appear in front of them from seemingly nothing but the happiness on the old man's face doesn't fade. With a circular wave of his wand, the world around them vanishes and they appear in a different place.

They are now in front of a massive castle standing at the end of a long stone bridge, this is a place I know well, Hogwarts. The old man cannot hide the glee on his face as he marches forward onto the bridge. Passing through the invisible barrier he can see a tall stern man standing at the end of the bridge in a regal pose with an air of arrogance.

The dragon's small head peaks up and sees the man, his face is cloaked in shadows and beastly. The hatchling feels the greatest fear it has ever felt in its life, so much so that even I feel it through the memory. Despite this, the old man trots forward happily with relief written on his worn face.

"Headmaster! Did you receive my letters? You were the only person I could turn to." As the old man nears he begins to slow a bit as the Headmaster's face did not reflect the happiness the old man felt.

"Headmaster?"

Standing only twenty or so feet away, the old man pauses before the headmaster slowly reaches into his robes. The old man's eyes grow wide as he quickly turns around shielding the hatchling. Only a flash of green light can be seen by the small dragon as she feels the weight of her master fall onto her.

Struggling the small dragon pushes itself out from underneath its master. The old man's body now lays limp and his skin has grown pale. With a nudge, the hatchling tries to help it's master move from his laying position.

Hearing steps behind her the dragon turns her head with a whining plea but all she sees is that monstrous obscure face.

With that, I am flung from her memory, or rather forced out as I feel a wave of fury fill her and me at the same time. Still inside her mind, I see myself reflected in her eyes but my face is different, it is obscured and monstrous.