A Glimpse

"You need rabies and tetanus shots. Before that, we'll do a blood test to be safe."

The doctor spoke gently, occasionally patting Harry's arm to get the blood flowing faster. He was so frail and his veins so thin that the doctor had to do this.

"Al... all right."

Harry lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn't dare look at his arm. The doctor had brought out a very large blood bag, and Harry suspected he meant to drain him dry.

"Don't worry, child. I just want to run a few more tests. It'll be over soon."

As she spoke, the doctor kept an eye on the blood bag.

A little farther away, Pochis stopped Dursley and pointed toward Harry before striking up a conversation with him.

Dursley clearly wasn't very concerned about Harry. He glanced over, then paid him no more attention and simply chatted with Pochis.

After a while, the doctor had drawn enough blood. Any more, and Harry's life might be at risk.

"Let's get your shot. Don't be afraid. You're a brave boy."

With that, the doctor got up and left with the blood bag. A nurse took Harry away, gave him his shot quickly, and sent him on his way.

The doctor, meanwhile, followed a route that had been planned in advance, heading straight for Voldemort's location.

"We're approaching the next point where the camera feeds meet. I'll shift my view first, then you."

Voldemort issued his instructions cautiously and shifted his view to another camera. He waited until he saw the doctor before speaking. "I've shifted. You can shift too."

They took turns like this, ensuring that one of them was always watching the doctor.

Click.

The door opened, and the doctor walked in.

"Sir, I've done as you—"

"Obliviate."

The Purple Sandalwood wand swept through the air. The doctor's eyes instantly went blank, and she turned around and left along the same route, unaware of what had happened.

The blood bag in her hand had already been levitated over to Voldemort.

"My enemy's blood..."

He murmured softly, using magic to lift a drop of blood from the bag and let it fall onto his exposed ankle...

Sizzle...

As if a drop of water had fallen into a pan of hot oil, his ankle was instantly seared by intense heat. The pain made Voldemort draw a sharp breath.

"The real thing."

Voldemort smiled, then turned to Danylis. "Help me, Dany."

"As you wish."

Danylis nodded and took an old-fashioned wooden jar from her robes. "Pour the blood inside."

Voldemort immediately did so, pouring every last drop from the blood bag into the jar.

Danylis quickly put on the lid, then bit her finger and drew a bloody, sinister symbol on the old wooden jar. The jar seemed to be bound by something, creaking and groaning.

"That's all it takes?" Voldemort asked curiously.

It was a method the Primitive Faction vampires used to preserve old blood. He had borrowed it to keep Harry Potter's blood viable for future use.

"Vampire magic is all Bloodline Magic. Aside from requiring blood, it's not nearly as complicated to use as a wizard's magic," Danylis said.

Voldemort nodded, carefully took the jar, and put it in his robe pocket. There were some bones in there too.

"That was a close call. Looks like I was being too cautious."

Voldemort let out a long breath, but his gaze happened to fall on the screen in the very center of the TV wall. It showed a street in Magnolia Crescent, and now...

The streetlights were going out one by one. The way they went dark made no sense, as if something were drawing the light away, pulling it toward one corner of the street.

Voldemort's eyes widened. He cautiously leaned closer to the blurry image and could just make out a purple robe trailing along the ground in that corner, as well as half a foot in a high-heeled boot with a buckle.

Danylis looked at Voldemort, confused. She saw that he had suddenly become wary, as if he were about to fly into a rage at any moment.

"Phew..." In the end, Voldemort merely let out a long breath.

But then he quickly unplugged every camera, gathered all the tapes and bound them together in his hands, and finally switched off every recorder.

"Get me out of here. Use Apparition. Anywhere will do." Having done all this, Voldemort immediately grabbed Danylis.

"Now?" Danylis asked, confused.

"Now. Right this instant."

Voldemort's voice grew louder, and he became increasingly violent.

"All right." Danylis didn't waste any more time. She Apparated away with Voldemort.

Bang.

The two vanished from the apartment, as if they had never been there.

"What did you see?"

The mountain wind howled, but Danylis paid it no mind and simply asked Voldemort.

"Dumbledore."

There was no point hiding it, so Voldemort answered directly.

"Dumbledore?"

This time, it was Danylis's turn to be surprised.

If I'd known it was Dumbledore just now... She didn't dare take the thought any further.

"Where are we?" Voldemort asked curiously, surveying the mountain scenery.

"I like coming here to sit and think."

After a moment, Danylis said, "It's very primitive. I like it."

Voldemort nodded. The Primitive Faction hated modernity; they really were a bunch of old fogeys.

"There's someone over there." Voldemort pointed toward the halfway point up the mountain, where a fire was burning.

Danylis peered in that direction, then soon smiled. Vampires had excellent eyesight. "It's the little shepherd. He's five or six. I see him here all the time."

"Shepherding in the middle of the night?" Voldemort asked, puzzled.

"He must be having trouble. He's rather stupid and always loses his sheep. Every time, I have to help him find them."

After saying this, Danylis turned to Voldemort. "Can I go help him?"

"Of course. Let's go together," Voldemort said without hesitation.

After that brief, heart-stopping scare, he'd decided he needed to do something that would make him happy. It would help ease the guilt he felt over the cowardice he'd shown when he first saw Dumbledore.

The fear came from deep within their souls. Voldemort's Remnant Soul was partly to blame, but Lin Zuo's fear, born of their opposing identities, played a part too. Facing the White Wizard, the soul they shared was clearly not as brave as either of them had imagined.

The two headed down the mountain. Once they got closer, they saw the little shepherd, wearing clothes that were obviously several sizes too big. Voldemort thought the child looked somewhat familiar.

"XXX, XXXX..."

Danylis began speaking in a language Voldemort didn't understand. It sounded a little like the language spoken near the Albanian Black Forest in his memories.

After Danylis finished speaking, the child tearfully babbled at length. Voldemort still couldn't understand him.

"Shall we help him find his sheep? How about using Accio?" Voldemort asked.

Danylis looked at him. To Voldemort's surprise, sadness filled her emerald-green eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"He said..."

Danylis rubbed her eyes, as though trying to wipe away the moisture in them. "His beloved grandfather died in the war. He's very sad, so he hid here."

Voldemort was surprised, but then he guessed they must be near the border between Croatia and Serbia. As far as he knew, that was the only place where fighting was taking place right now.

"Damn this war," he muttered.

"Child, your grandfather will be watching over you from the sky. Those stars are—"

Voldemort hadn't finished speaking when he suddenly straightened up in surprise and asked Danylis, "What's his name?"

"His?"

Danylis paused, then quickly replied, "Modric. Luka Modric. He and his grandfather share the same name."

"Modrić. So it really is you..."

Voldemort gazed intently at the crying child. The more he looked, the more the boy resembled the midfield maestro he knew.