14: Rituals completed

Sitting in the middle of a pentagram is a person in a meditative pose. On each end of the pentagram are the five last prisoners (bar Peter, still locked up in the dungeon) and three of the  Founder's artifacts in a triangle shape around the person. Since they were Voldemort's Horcrux, a dark haze could be seen around them. Hisses and whispers could be heard from the artifacts—the promises of false power to the who wears them. 

(POV Sirius)

Slamming my Occlumency shields, I cut off the noises of the Horcrux. Looking at the death eaters around me, bound and gagged, I felt a little emotional. Their eyes were lifeless and just like dolls. Broken from my experiments and new spells that I tried on them. No matter how much of a waste of life, they helped me advance my magical studies. And in death, they will help me grow.

Gathering magic in my hands, I direct them toward the floor. As magic flows outwards, it lights up the runes drawn on the ground. As runes light up in a pentagram shape, the ritual commences. Moonlight shines down from the window I had created, giving the room an ethereal glow. 

Magic came alive, swirling around and then dancing in the air. This created such beautiful sight. It hit me for the first time that magic was not just a tool for destruction but also creation. The magic starts to flow into the five death eaters and, from there, congregates into the artifacts. The Horcrux started shrieking in place as if they knew the imminent danger.

As soon the magic started to interact with Horcrux, it engulfed it, regardless of the fight put up by the conscious souls. Although they were severed souls of a powerful mage, they fell short in front of sentient magic.

Magic didn't stop after engulfing the artifacts. Instead, it flowed toward me.

As soon as the magic reached me, it flowed through my body. I felt like I was in hot, warm water.

After that, I lost the feeling of my senses. My thinking, mind, sense of time, and emotions. It was like DMT(a highly strong hallucinogenic compound found in numerous animals and plants) Which made my tightly controlled magic break free from my control.

Magic kept flowing back and forth.

The five death eaters, the artifacts (Horcruxes), and I were connected as Symphony.

A hum sounded in my ear, then I felt like floating through softness before succumbing to Morpheus's realm.

(POV ENd)

Magic covered the whole room so thickly that it was hard to see anything.

Only *hums* could be heard.

The dense magic in the air slowly started shrinking, making a small tornado and the room more visible. A naked floating man could be seen in the middle of the room, while on top of his chest was a mini tornado sucking the magic. Soon broken trinkets could be seen on the ground, while bodily ashes were in five different directions.

Soon the magic disappeared, and the tornado submerged into the chest. For a moment, the man's eyes opened. Instead of normal eyes, a silvery glow can be seen in them. The body is on its way to it the ground, but!

*Click*

The door opened, and a woman wearing nothing but a nighty walked in. The moonlight shone on her body, giving her an ethereal glow.

She pointed her wand at the descending man who was about to hit the floor. The descent slowed down; he was laid on the floor.

She walked close to the body and looked around the room.

Then she started a maniacal laughter.

She bent downwards and slowly caressed the man's face.

"Your so mad, using Horcruxes, Founders Artifact, and Wizards that were connected to millennia of family magic and still survive."

(POV Bella)

She knew what Horcruxes were, even knew Voldemort made multiple of them; that's why she was such a fanatic for him. He was crazy enough to push magic to its limits. But Sirius!

Her kin used her former master Horcruxes, Founder artifact, and Family wizards.

Magic is a conscious thing. It depends on the intent

The principal thing about the founder's artifacts was their properties and the reverence surrounding them. So as the significance of an object increased by thousands of magical, sacrificing them should be impossible unless the caster doesn't even have a speck of respect for the artifact's creator.

Meaning Sirius didn't have any respect for the founders.

Similarly, sacrificing wizards was common even back before the statute of secrecy was established. But purebloods weren't. As much of the rabble like to think that all wizards are equal, they are not. There is a reason why purebloods held mudbloods in contempt—all because of family magic. An extended family line means more substantial magical potential: more inherent traits and a more challenging time sacrificing family wizards for rituals, as family magic would fight it off.

She didn't know how he did it but knew he would be a powerhouse in a league of his own.

Some part of her was both excited and sacred. Excited as she was witnessing a birth of a powerful wizard and scared because if she didn't join him, she would also be sacrificed.

Looking around the room, she called  Kreacher

"Kreacher"

*pop*

"Missy Black be calling."

"Did Sirius give any instructions about how to clean the room"

Nodding quickly

The elf began to cry. She was going to curse the fool before he blabbered on.

"Good Mater ....Hiccup ....*sniff*  said that Kreacher was going to get locket while bad men's ashes would be stored in box."

"Good....~hiccup~...Master helped Kreacher fullfilll order"

Giving away Slythring artifact to an elf.

WOW, she had seen it all now.

"Do as he said"

Giving the elf the order, she levitated Sirius and returned to their room.

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POV Sirius

Opening my eyes, I felt the softness of the bed and a warm body pressed on my side.

I did anticipate this,  her finding me. Everybody in the house probably felt the magic. I had my elves on standby in case she attacked me. She was always a fanatic about Voldemort, so it's hard to trust her. But I guess she did accept me.

Getting out of her hold, I walk towards the bath and feel my magic. I was going began to worry as I didn't feel a change but,

Then it happened.

I couldn't describe the feeling; the basic analogy I felt as if before, whenever I used magic, it felt like a weight was attached to it, but now that weight was taken off.

The sheer feeling of fluidity was incredulous. Stretching out my hand, I imagined a knife.

*Swish*

Magic materialized and swirled around before I saw a silver knife created.

Holding the knife, I clenched it hard. I was itching to test my magic with a wand. Right now, I am pretty up the totem pool of the wizard hierarchy. Dumbledore and Voldemort are far from me, but I could take a contingent of death eaters or even Aurors.