Chapter 232 : On the Eve of the Battle
After reviewing recent events, Phineas realized that his strength had grown immensely over the past three years—so much so that even many adult wizards could no longer match him. Against weaker opponents, one careless move could be enough for him to secure victory.
That Friday morning, he received a letter from Lisa. Her team had finally discovered the location of the vampire reformists' main base.
Meanwhile, Harry and the others had just received notice of their punishment, which would begin at eleven o'clock that night.
Originally, Phineas had planned to accompany Harry into the Forbidden Forest to ensure his safety during the mysterious figure's ambush. But now that the vampire base had been located, he faced a difficult choice between two missions.
Under normal circumstances, he could have waited. Lisa's discovery would remain intact for a short time, and he could return to it after ensuring Harry's survival. But there was an unpredictable variable:
Phineas wasn't certain if Lisa's team had found the true base. It was also possible that the vampires could relocate quickly or had already detected Lisa's surveillance. If they fled, it would be nearly impossible to track them down again.
If they wanted to bring down the reformist vampires once and for all, the only viable tactic was a swift, overwhelming assault—striking before the enemy had a chance to scatter or hide.
Phineas also knew that once word spread of his operation, the Ministry of Magic would likely try to intervene. Though the vampire civil war had been disruptive, it had ironically strengthened the Ministry's authority and position. He suspected that certain families, particularly those hostile to the Blacks, preferred that these dangerous reformists remain at large. As long as they existed, they posed a threat not only to the magical world—but more specifically, to Phineas himself.
And perhaps, in the eyes of his enemies, the ideal outcome was for Phineas to die fighting vampires. That alone solidified his decision.
Compared to Harry's trip into the forest—an event he now knew posed no real threat—Phineas chose to act on the vampire situation immediately.
After notifying Dumbledore that he would be away for a few days, he departed from the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
For the first time, Phineas chose not to rely on Puff to Apparate him. He wanted to travel on his own.
He quickly discovered the difference.
While Puff's transportation often left him a little dizzy or nauseated, it was tolerable. But Apparating by his own power brought on intense dizziness and nausea. Had he not previously endured the horrific trials of blood potion refinement, the moment he landed outside the Silvermoon Potion Shop in Knockturn Alley, he might have vomited and been left unable to fight—ruining the entire mission.
Lisa was already waiting outside, having sent the owl that morning.
"Master, are you all right?" she asked with concern, noting his pale face.
"I'm fine. Just some lingering side effects," Phineas replied, brushing it off.
"Apparition?" she guessed.
He nodded.
"Master, you're not of age yet," she said with a frown. "Apparition compresses both brain and body through spatial movement. It can cause dizziness, nausea, muscle fatigue—even tissue damage. It's dangerous to use before your body has fully matured."
Phineas blinked in surprise. He hadn't known that.
And it made sense. Normally, a Hogwarts student wouldn't even begin studying Apparition until several years later, and only under direct supervision. But Phineas had acquired the ability instantly through his system. And because his proficiency was so high, he had never experienced the usual early mistakes like Splinching.
But while his magical technique was flawless, he'd never considered the physical toll.
Fortunately, Lisa knew the risks—and cared enough to warn him. Thanks to her, Phineas resolved not to use Apparition again unless absolutely necessary until he was fully grown.
"Let's head inside," he said after catching his breath, and the two entered the shop.
The Silvermoon Potion Store was now closed to the public. Inside, several werewolf squad leaders waited impatiently. Ever since Phineas had declared war on the vampire reformists, they'd hunted them relentlessly. Now that the base had finally been located, they sensed the end was near.
"Lisa, you mentioned you found the reformists' base?" Phineas asked without delay.
She handed him several parchments covered in notes. "Do you remember the vampires we captured last year?"
"The ones who ambushed us but were ultimately taken prisoner?"
"Yes. During our interrogation, we learned that they weren't actually reformists. At the time, because you had ordered attacks on reformist properties, some conservative vampires became fearful. Believing that you were a greater threat than the reformists, they chose to ally with the enemy and ambush us first."
"I see," Phineas said. "So what does that have to do with the base camp?"
"It's thanks to those prisoners that we discovered several hidden reformist strongholds. For example, one of their safehouses was in the Forbidden Forest—its only purpose was to watch Dumbledore and ensure he didn't interfere."
Phineas scoffed. "They think they can watch Dumbledore? As if a group of arrogant vampires could possibly contain him? Ludicrous."
Lisa nodded in agreement and continued.
"As more of their strongholds fell, the reformists were forced to construct new ones. By tracking these new locations, we noticed a consistent point of contact—one site that all strongholds seemed linked to. We sent a few controlled Muggles to scout it out, and based on their observations, we suspect the reformist base is located on the eighth and ninth floors of an old castle."
Phineas didn't ask what became of the Muggles. Vampires didn't tolerate intruders, and Lisa's silence was answer enough.
In truth, he didn't care. In a past life, he may have been a Muggle himself—but not anymore. And as long as nothing endangered the Muggles of his ancestral homeland, the rest of Europe could burn without stirring his heart.
"Then it's settled," he said, folding the parchments. "We set out in thirty minutes. No delays. We'll attack with full force and give them no time to escape."
The werewolves around him stood a little taller. These weren't all his forces—just the squad leaders, who would now relay the order to gather every soldier under his command.
This time, Phineas wasn't taking any chances. He would not allow another narrow escape. The vampires had played their last move.
They wanted to play chess? He would flip the board.
They wanted strategy? He would bring overwhelming force.
No one wins against a dragon that lands on your face.
By the time the thirty minutes had passed, the Silvermoon Potion Store fell into absolute silence. No movement. No voices. Even a pin dropped on the floor would echo in the stillness.
Every one of Phineas's warriors had vanished—teleported to the vampire base by portkeys.
This was the endgame.
For eleven years, Phineas had wielded power behind the scenes of the Black family, long before Sirius ever escaped Azkaban. Other wizarding families had always wondered just how much strength he had amassed.
Now, he had shown them.
And it was enough—enough to terrify, enough to threaten, enough to dominate.
As his forces surrounded the castle, hundreds of wands were raised into the night sky. Barrier spells flared like lightning, forming a dome above the base.
The message was unmistakable:
You are surrounded.
This ends tonight.
There are only two outcomes: either you all fall—or we do.
There will be no middle ground.