Harry was finally going to get out and take Hermione's advice.
After the war, everyone was still trying to cope with its devastating consequences. Many funerals were still to be held and trials to perform.
Aurors were still sent out searching for either hiding death eaters and supporters or the people missing from death eater attacks.
Some students have returned for what they had dubbed as the 8th year. The list included Hermione so she was still busy trying to cope with the lost chances she had in learning and finishing her credentials during the time they were on the run.
Ron had decided to forgo going back to Hogwarts and decided to accept the invitation of the Auror academy for him.
And Harry? He just wanted to be left alone.
The young wizard couldn't go back to Hogwarts. There were far too many memories. Too many people he wasn't ready to face yet.
He also couldn't go out without being mauled by the reports. Merlin, they were worse than starved dementors.
So he decided to stick hiding away at 12 Grimmauld Place. Away from everything and everyone.
Everyone kept on demanding and looking for their savior to clean up the mess. To somehow miraculously make everything better. He hated it.
Harry also has to deal with a new ability that appeared when he was revived after being killed by Voldemort's Avada Kedavra in the forbidden forest.
These unusual orange flames didn't burn unless he wanted to. Hermione and he tried many times to search about what they were but the only hint they got was from one of the Black Family Ancestor Diaries. Someone by the name of Lyra Black. An ancestor that lived in the mid-18s had written that in one of her travels, she had seen flames like this that were able to appear in muggles when taken to a desperate life and death situation.
They were known as soul flames and nothing much was known about them aside that they came in seven different colors that brought different abilities to their users.
So far, the flames weren't harmful and didn't cause much change so they let it be.
They experimented with the flames and Harry was able to find that he was able to be more in tune and understand the emotions of others. Hermione and Luna also told him that the orange flames felt comfortable. Like a cup of hot chocolate during winter along with a soft sweater to shield you from the cold.
It made Harry's already noticeable presence more eye-catching. He hated it, almost pulling his hair out from frustration. So he now has a flame that gave him the watered-down Veela allure except its platonic.
With that case on a hiatus, they continued as normal. Hermione is back at Hogwarts and Harry living as a hermit at 12 Grimmauld Place.
Yet the stubborn witch never fails to remind Harry to 'get out of the house mate before you start to mold'. The emerald-eyed wizard has no intention of getting out in public of the wizarding world.
The street in the London Borough of Islington outside this ancestral home was literally never without a reporter hiding and waiting for a chance to pounce. He wasn't chancing it.
With how bipolar the public opinion is in their never-ending debate of whether he was the second coming of Merlin or the new dark lord, any news about him could tilt it to either side which Harry wouldn't like.
And with his current itch to curse anybody who so much as says the word savior to him, the latter was much more likely.
That was when Hermione got the ingenious idea. If what Harry hated was the wizarding population that knew the-man-who-conquered and not social interaction itself—
—Then the wizard was better off starting his recovery with basic social interactions in the muggle world. Nothing like war and being on the run for 9 months to wipe out the common knowledge and etiquette of social interactions.
That was why Harry packed a normal muggle bag without any charms or spells and placed his basic necessities such as ID, wallet, and documents in it.
The wizard was going to try going muggle style for a couple of months hiding from the Wizarding world. He had already told his friends that he stayed in contact with about his plans and they all supported him somewhat despite how stupid it seemed to some of them.
Harry also told them that he would be able to contact any of them for about a month for precautionary reasons. When Harry takes his vacation, everyone would first look at his known friends for any signs or scrap of information as to where he could be.
He wouldn't be surprised if owls or floors would be tampered with illegally just to find him.
They agreed reluctantly and Harry had packed off as soon as he could.
He really hoped this was a good idea.
'No, this was definitely not a good idea!', Harry thought as he dodged a falling lamp post that was hit by a burst of red flames.
He rolled on the ground and winced as he felt the skin over his arm tear due to the friction with the rough cement street.
Three men in expensive-looking suits surrounded him and looked at him with greedy eyes. Harry hated it and he wanted to gouge those eyes out.
The wizard just finished moving in on his new apartment and was out to buy some furniture when a black car suddenly pulled over when he was on a secluded street and these three men came out to it.
They soon started attacking with soul flames and tried to capture him.
The three men talked in Italian and certainly looked enough like one. Harry didn't know much about Italian so he wasn't able to understand what they were talking about. He was also too busy dodging and flinging spells to try to cast a translation charm.
Two of the armed men had red flames while the last remaining one had green. They were muggles for sure based on their reaction to Harry's magic.
He side stepped to avoid a bullet that nearly hit his leg and flung a Stupefy at the man with green flames. It hit him right in the chest and he went down with a thud.
Alarm appeared on the other two and their attacks soon turned more vicious.
Harry's eyes widened as one of the men coated their arms in red flames and shot them out using a punch towards him. The other was quick to move to the side and aimed a gun at Harry.
He cast a Protego and made a bubble shield around him to stop the bullet and the flames. But the impact alone from the surging red flames made him move back a meter. Everything else that the red flames passed through, including the cement road disintegrated.
A couple of bullets shot at his shield finally made it break and Harry did his best to dodge again as he cast a strong Aqua Eructo to release a powerful jet of water from his wand. It doused and hit the storm that ravaged the street on the shoulder and sent him tumbling over the corner.
He yelled in pain as he felt a bullet hit his side. Thankfully the bullet didn't completely embed itself in him and had just made a large wound on his waist or else he would have dropped to the ground by now.
Harry felt blood start pooling at his clothes and he knew he needed to act fast before the blood loss gets to him.
A whip of red flames was sent over at his feet and he jumped away just in time to point his and send a wave of ice towards his target.
This man was faster than the other and moved quickly enough to avoid it before sending another large flare toward him.
Sweat gathered on Harry's skin and he could feel himself out of breath. He had been taken off guard by the sudden attack that he was only moving through instincts and will now.
He gritted his teeth as the pain continued to spread to his body from the bullet wound on his waist. He was also badly bruised and scratched from rolling at the ground when he dodged those flames when they caught him off guard.
The red flames instead hit the building behind him when Harry ran to the side towards the Italian he had hit with Aqua Eructo. Before the man could regain focus to attack him again, he acted out first by sending a stunner.
The man went down like the first one but at the cost of Harry's foot.
He screamed when those flames hit his ankle and blood spurted out. Harry tumbled to the ground and painfully landed on the cement again.
The wizard flipped himself to face the man who was now cautiously running in his direction. Harry raised his wand and surprised the man with a Bombarda Maxima that sent them flying to a store behind them. The loud sounds they made in the fight had gathered enough attention that Harry could hear screams from afar and he knew that police and Aurors would soon be arriving.
Harry's heartbeat was loud enough that he could hear it pounding over his ears as his blood ran hot. He was working on adrenaline alone and he knew that when it wore off he would finally fall to the effects of blood loss. Dirt and blood clung to his clothes and skin he knew he made for a sorry sight right now. Merlin, Hermione was going to strangle him when she found out about this.
Blood continued to pour out from his wounds and Harry thanked his high pain tolerance via Cruciatus Curse for being able to keep awake despite the pain.
But suddenly a blood-chilling sensation filled the air. Very similar to dark magic as the dreadful frigidness spread like the dementors' aura.
Then the space in front of him warped as three haunting figures appeared followed by the eerie sounds of rattling chains.
The three looming creatures didn't feel human to his senses. Their whole face was covered in bandages and they wore black top hats and cravats that hid most of their body. In their hands were large and long chains that rattled with their stops.
If Harry could compare the inhuman aura they gave to anything he had met, then it would have been to the inferi. Neither dead nor alive. It made the hair on his neck stand up and goosebumps prickle on his skin.
"The V-vendice!"
Harry's head turned to the direction of the shout and saw the man he had sent crashing to the store had managed to get up again and was looking at the three figures with dread.
He then tried to run towards the car they used earlier but was stopped when a chain came flying at him and a metal collar attached at its end encased his neck.
The same happened to the other two unconscious men as they were dragged back using the metal collar on their necks.
Harry's head was a mess as he couldn't understand just what was going on in front of him, the blood loss wasn't helping either.
Just then, his instincts blared at him to run. But he was too weak to even stand up, especially with his injured leg.
Harry then felt a tight and cold snap at his neck and he saw the very same metal collar on his neck.
His face paled and he choked on a scream as he was tugged toward the three creatures by the neck.
Harry was dragged to their feet painfully, his hands clutching around the metal collar, trying to find a way to distance the cold material from his skin.
His vision was now spinning as he felt his wounds be aggravated by his trashing in resistance. His shirt was soaked in his blood and a trail of the red liquid stained the street to where he was dragged.
The last thing he saw before he passed out was the vision of the street disappearing as he was pulled into the dark abyss.
Harry woke up feeling like he got run over by a hippogriff.
His whole body ached and his waist felt a stabbing pain. Like a knife was jammed into it. The same with his ankle.
He felt that he was lying on cold hard pavement and a biting chill saturated the air. The feeling was not unlike the dungeons at Hogwarts during the night, but more sinister and oppressive.
Harry blearily opened his eyes and groaned in pain when he tried to turn his body. After a while, he sat up much to the protest of his pounding headache.
By looking around he saw that he was in a dark cell. Then the memories came back to him with the force of a speeding train.
He clutched his head in pain as he blinked away the tears that gathered in his eyes from the pain. This was really bad.
His wand wasn't even on him. Harry was alone in a cell with darkness surrounding the place like mist.
'But at least they had the mind to patch up my wounds a bit', he grumbled to himself as he took in the sight of the bandages and dressings on his body. Some were tinted red as proof of his injuries.
But then he shivered and felt like bugs crawled at his skin when he made a connection at just how he resembled those creatures with the bandages covering his skin and some of his face.
But just what were they? And how was everything connected to soul flames?
A cold breeze passed by and Harry couldn't help but sneeze. This place was freezing and he was only wearing jeans and a shirt that were also torn up and dirty.
He then heard footsteps come near his cell and paranoia from the war made him crawl to the corner of the room, as far away from the bars of the cell as possible.
His ankle was still injured and he wasn't able to walk properly with just one functioning leg. This would make escaping very hard. Harry couldn't even heal himself since he didn't have his wand and he wasn't trained enough to perform wandless magic.
Two of the same looming figures that dragged him here appeared with their chains. A growl left Harry's mouth before he could stop it.
But the two didn't react to his blatant anger and opened the cell. Like before, a cold metal collar snapped into his neck before he could even move away.
Harry snarled and tried to avoid the two creatures approaching him but it was no use and they tied Harry up with the remaining chains in their hands.
He was then hoisted up into the air and placed on one of the creature's shoulders like a bag of potatoes. The two then started to walk away, intending to bring Harry somewhere.
A loud squawk left his mouth when he was hoisted and placed on its shoulder. He grabbed on the dark coat for support.
If Harry thought that the cell was cold, then these creatures were frigid. No body temperature coming from them at all.
Plans began to formulate in his mind as to how he would handle his current situation. First, he decided to see how it goes if he went along. He was a sitting duck and knew nothing of the situation. He didn't want to pick the wrong decisions and suffer the consequences for it later.
The pieces of information he gathered together were still not adding up. The group of men who attacked him had soul flames and they somehow managed to discover that Harry has some too. Then they tried to capture him for whatever reasons because of it.
But then these creatures arrived after they fought and dragged them all away in chains. Afterward, he woke up in a cell.
The connection he could think of was a prison. Cells, chains, and frightening figures.
But for what? How come Harry had never heard about something like this? There was something magical about them, that was for sure.
Soon Harry heard sounds that didn't belong to the footsteps of the two figures.
Raspy groans and the clanking of numerous chains reverberated in the cold air. The wizard couldn't actually see since he was face down in the dark coat but he could twist himself enough to get a view.
He turned to his right and lifted his head. The sight made his blood freeze as horror pooled on his stomach.
He was right, he was in a prison. Numerous cells were placed on the brick walls and inside were people wearing prison clothes.
This place was very dark and almost no light entered, he could only see the silhouettes and slight features of the people inside.
Then as if they were suddenly injected with adrenaline, they staggered to their feet and grabbed onto the bars while peering out.
Eyes. So many eyes stared at Harry that it made him break out in goosebumps and shiver in unease. It was like the-boy-who-lived nonsense when he first arrived at Diagon Alley with Hagrid and was almost mauled by the wixens around.
Wide incredulous eyes look at him as if they were seeing something impossible. He heard chatters start up between the inmates and mutters of Cielo and Sky.
When Harry focused more to feel the presence around him, that was when he discovered that almost half of the population of the inmates in the cells had soul flames.
'What the actual hell is going on here!?', he hysterically screamed in his head as he took in that information.
Is this a place where they capture and imprison people with soul flames? Lyra Black's diary didn't say anything about this. She would have written something this important if she knew.
Merlin's sagging balls, he regrets telling his friends not to contact him for a month. He was alone in this.
Harry felt like ice spread in his body as his hands turned cold. Cold sweat pooled on his forehead and his heart thundered in his chest like a drum.
He didn't want to know what kind of horrors he would see and experience in this place. The wizard had known enough about Azkaban to become fearful of any magical prison facility.
He was broken out of his alarmed thoughts when the other creature beside the one carrying him pulled out their chains and whipped them over the bars. Alarming the prisons and sending them back to the corners of their cells. It also served the purpose of quieting them down. But their eyes still followed after Harry and the two creatures.
Before long, they entered a long corridor that didn't have any cells in them. Harry could see what was in front of them and was just able to catch a glimpse of the places they had already passed by.
The bandaged creatures stopped in their tracks and the sound of a large door creaking open filled his ears.
They entered a large room but before he could look around, he was unceremoniously lifted and dropped.
Harry closed his eyes waiting for the painful impact on the floor but was surprised when he landed on something soft. He opened his eyes and saw that he was dropped on an old-fashioned sofa that resembled some of the pieces of furniture from 12 Grimmauld Place before they overhauled it to get rid of cursed items likely to kill them and stored the types of furniture that looked like it was better off in a museum.
He observed the large room he was in and found himself correct. While the room certainly had a modern touch to it, Harry could see the more noble and fancy touch to it that was prominent in pureblood estates.
From large drapes to the furniture that fit more of a Germanic or Victorian noble house. But unlike those, this office was dark in color with royal blue walls and black curtains. A small modern chandelier-like light was the only source of light in the room.
Harry looked in front of him to see one of the bandaged creatures sitting at the office table with papers piled on top.
The creature at the table has a neat band of bandages around its top hat. Thick, white feathered fur collar. Among the bandaged figures this one was the only one to have their hair and an eye exposed.
He gulped and tightened his grip on the corner of the sofa when the figure looked at him.
That was when he heard a high-pitched voice echo in the room.
"Welcome to Vendicare, Harry Potter."
He jumped in surprise and turned to where the voice was.
Right there, on the shoulder of the figure sitting on the main table, was a small toddler-sized figure that was wrapped in bandages and wore the same outfit as the rest of them.
Harry could swear that this weird baby wasn't there earlier.
At first, he was surprised and highly cautious as to how they knew his identity, but then he remembered that they took away his wand as well as his wallet that he remembered being placed in his pocket.
The baby tilted its head in an almost feline manner, observing him with an unnerving focus.
"As proof of the wand we have confiscated from you and the ID, it will be right that you are Harry Potter, a British wizard", they pointed out while jumping away from their position on the bandaged figure's shoulder and landing on the sofa right beside him.
Harry scooted away immediately and looked with narrowed eyes at the baby.
So they do know about magic and the magical community. But unfortunately for the magical community, the same can't be said.
Harry's mouth was set into a hard line and he continued to keep his mouth shut.
"This is Vendicare. We are the law of the Mafia and all the flame active. Despite your obvious lack of knowledge, you have broken Omerta", there was steel in their voice that proved that they wouldn't allow any contradiction.
So Harry swallowed down his protest and continued to listen. It was such a jarring scene that this came from the bandaged baby with their high-pitched voice.
"But considering your unique situation, we may come into a compromise Mr. Potter", they then accepted a stack of paper that was handed out to them by the silent bandaged creatures.
"Here," they said, "read this."
They gave the papers to Harry and a brief check told him that it was made up of three pages. Enough for a quick read.
"It would be too troublesome to verbally explain everything. If you have any further questions save them after you have read everything."
Harry nodded and quickly started to read the papers.
He was so clueless about everything that it wasn't funny. It scared Harry more than he would like to admit.
He was alone and being accused of a crime he didn't even know about and without his wand. By creatures that were definitely not human and gave off enough of an unnerving feeling to battle with an inferius, no less.
He started reading through the papers and the more he read the more he wanted to groan and pull his air out. Because of–fucking–course, it just had to be him. Now that he was done with Voldemort's mess the world just had to hit him with another doesn't it.
Apparently, soul flames as they called them were actually named Dying will flame. What a mouthful, couldn't they name it something shorter. But hey, it wasn't like the wizarding world was any better. Harry thinks they're actually worse at naming.
Everyone has these flames but not all could become 'active'. It can be described as a high-density form of energy that is refined from one's own life-force. Due to the way it resonates with one's emotions, it has been regarded as a type of battle aura.
They have been around for a long time and they even had their own secret society just like the wizarding world.
But what differs is that flame active individuals and people aware of it are mostly involved in a life of crime as mafias. Their society revolves around the mafia world.
The mafia, great. Just as what he needed. Harry had an urge to slam his head on the nearest wall.
There were seven types of flames. The storm, sun, mist, lighting, cloud, rain—and finally—Harry's own, the sky.
There was also information about the omerta and his very own captors that he now knew as the Vindice. The law and officers of the Mafia world.
The omerta is the law that prevents members of Mafia Famiglias from talking to authorities, rival Famiglia Members, or anyone outside of their Famiglia about their own Famiglia's business. And to avoid exposing the mafia world to civilians. Kinda like the Statue of Secrecy. And Harry's scuffle with those three men in the middle of muggle London broke it.
Whoever broke the Omerta would be captured by the Vindice and be imprisoned in Vendicare or also known as the Vindice Prison.
On the bright side, although the prisoners are doomed to live the rest of their lives in this dreadful prison, if their allies can make the right kind of deal, it is possible that their release can be negotiated.
But Harry had no such 'allies' in the mafia world and since none of his friends were flame active, they were unlikely to even know about the mafia world or the Vindice.
He was stuck in here. And there was no escape for him.
Then at the end portion of the third page, he found a small paragraph that made him question everything.
'Wixens or any magical creatures capable of performing fits of magic are unable to activate their dying will flames. It has been researched that magic has taken up too much space in their souls and limited their abilities to activate their flames. In the record studies, no magical had ever activated their flames yet.'
He turned his disbelieving eyes over at the baby and Harry knew that behind those bandages, they were smirking at him.
"W-what—"
He choked out as he tightly grasped the papers, crumpling them in his hands.
"What a unique situation is it not?", the baby affirmed with amusement in their voice. "Until you appeared, no other one of your kind was able to activate their flames. But seeing your history of exploits we shouldn't be that surprised, Mr. Potter."
Harry could hear static buzzing in his ears as his eyes continued to roam the words as if desperate to find a way out. Then he remembered the baby's previous words.
He turned his eyes to the Head of the Vindicare and asked with trepidation in his mind.
"You said something about a compromise."
Harry could see the triumphs that the Vindice excluded when he uttered those words. The wizard was getting a feeling that he was about to ask the devil for a deal.
"Yes I did", they said calmly. "It involves a private problem that we have been trying to solve for a long time."
There was something bitter about their tone. Whatever problem they were talking about ran much deeper than Harry could possibly think of.
"What is it?"
"It's a long story but in simpler terms, we need you to play bait for us, little sky."
"Bait!?"
He accidentally yelled out loud as he gaped at the weird and highly dangerous sounding act.
Thankfully, the baby wasn't annoyed by his shout and calmly continued with their explanation.
The green-eyed teenager looked back at the other Vindice surrounding them but saw that they were still and hadn't made any move at all.
"We already have informed you of the basics with those papers in your hand. So you should be able to get the essence of things."
They tilted their head to look straight into Harry's face before looking down at the clear pacifier on their neck.
"We have an enemy. Someone we want dead."
Killing intent filled the air for a brief moment and made Harry stiffen as he sat on the sofa.
"But he is slippery as an eel and has always managed to hide and escape. So we need a bait to lure him out. You are that bait Mr. Potter", they said as they pointed their tiny finger at him.
Harry blinked and questioningly pointed back at himself. What could he possibly have that whoever this man wanted? Unless they were part of the dark fraction fighting for Voldemort that wanted revenge, he was least likely to attract their attention.
He said so to the baby but the Founder of the Vindice shook their head.
"Of course not. Let me explain"
They then stood up on the sofa and began to walk over to Harry. The wizard kept themselves still and wore a blank face as he waited to see what the baby wanted from him.
But to his surprise, the baby just climbed to his lap and plopped themselves over it and used him as a cushioned chair.
He stared speechlessly but the Vindice head continued.
"The man—Checker Face—has the task of making sure the Tri-ni-sette continues to balance the world. To do so, he needs to trick and sacrifice seven flame-active individuals with high flame purity. They need to be the best of the best, they will be called the Arcobaleno. Then after a few decades, he will switch to another seven after the previous generation are not able to bear the curse any longer and he will dispose of them. This generation's sky is dying. The Giglio Nero's Dona, Luce, is about to die and it's expected that her daughter will be the next to take up the mantle. But we know—Checker face knows—that Luce's daughter will not be able to bear the Arcobaleno curse."
Harry frowned and bit his cheeks in uneasy confusion as he stared at the baby sitting on his lap. Looking quite comfortable there.
So yeah, he can get the gist of it. For the betterment of 'humanity'. For the Greater Good. Checker face ruins people's lives and plays them as a puppet. Sounds familiar to Harry.
The wizard then thought of a similar person who would and have done the same and a bitter feeling spread through his throat.
"We, the Vindice, are the results of when Checker face kills the Arcobalenos but managed to survive due to our will", they admitted blatantly and Harry's breath was taken from his chest.
He gasped and his surprise had let him to accidentally make a tear at the paper in his grasp.
So this was their revenge. Towards the man that cursed and turned them into whatever they were now. And Harry was going to be a part of their plans if he wanted to get out of this place. Yet—
"Why me?", he asked, then licked his dried lips. The taste of copper spread as he remembered that he broke the skin of his lips.
The baby stood up from his lap and turned around to face him. They then placed their small hand over his chest.
Harry jerked in his seat but didn't try to move away. While the bandaged baby was an eerie sight, it was hard to feel repulsion for something so small.
"Let out your flames", the baby's hand flickered for a second with a dark flame and Harry decided to write that down for later.
He did as he was told and lifted his right hand and let it be enveloped in flames. His fire has a reddish shade of orange and the parts closer to its edges were colored by varying shades of orange with sparkling crystal-like particles.
It vastly contrasted with normal flames and looked more like it belonged to the category of magical flames.
Despite trying to appear calm, the Vindice warden perked upon seeing it and Harry heard the other Vindices in the room shuffle a bit.
The baby reached out a hand to his flames and Harry let it happen. While the sky flames are closer to real flames due to being able to burn objects and release heat. The wizard could manage so that it doesn't burn or emit too much heat that would cause harm. He doesn't know if all Sky can do it but he felt that it was likely.
"That," they said with confidence and smug pride hinted in their monotonous voice. "Is the reason why."
Harry cast them a dubious glance but the baby ignored it.
"Your flames have the highest purity and presence that I have met in the passing centuries. If Kawahira made you into the sky Arcobaleno then you'll balance the Tri-ni-sette for a century or maybe even more considering the long lifespan of your kind."
His eye twitched at the idea of being used in such a way. That would happen over his dead body.
Suddenly, the door behind them rattled and opened. Harry turned around to see a tall Vindice bring in a metal trolley.
On top of the trolley is a beautifully made teapot with two teacups on the side. Beside it was a cake covered in white frosting and decorated with strawberries.
The Vindice stopped when they reached their position and placed the tea set and cake on the glass table in front of them.
Afterward, they turned their back and went out of the room without so much as a sound.
Now Harry was curious whether the Vindice could talk or if this was limited to the baby.
"Most of us are capable of speech Mr. Potter", they piped in and the teenager froze before a red flush painted his cheeks. He didn't know he had said that out loud.
"I-I'm really sorry—I didn't—"
"No need to be flustered. It's a valid question and you have reminded me that I haven't introduced myself, haven't I?"
The situation would have been a lot less embarrassing if the Vindice head wasn't sitting on his lap and in the form of a baby. But then if they were the size of the other tall looming figures in the room with them, embarrassing would have done a quick 180° turn to terrifying.
"My name is Bermuda Von Veckenschtein. The Founder and Warden of the Vindicare", he introduced himself and accepted the slice of cake that was cut out and given to them on a tiny plate by one of the two Vindice sitting behind them.
Huh, a Germanic name. It seems to fit the toddler-sized Vindice.
"So let's bring on the deal."
Bermuda left his lap and jumped back into the shoulder of the Vindice with a golden eye peering from his bandages.
"Jaeger, show him the contract."
"Yes Lord Bermuda"
The golden-eyed Vindice replied and then took out a large piece of parchment from one of the table's drawers.
They passed it to Harry whose face dawned with recognition when he saw the parchment. It was a magically binding contract. One that would be sealed by injecting the user's magic and using a blood quill to sign their name.
If a wixen were to sign a magically binding contract and break it, they would love their magic or end up worse.
Harry read it and he gritted his teeth as his hands turned cold as the severity of the situation hit him. The Vindice had disarmed him by their polite greetings that he almost forgot what he was in here in the first place.
This piece of parchment had written that Harry would work and obey Bermuda's orders as a form of payment to earn his freedom. His work for the Vindice will continue until their plan for Checker face works. So until then, he was basically Vindice's property.
He tasted copper when he bit his lips too hard and broke the skin again. Harry was adamant about having his freedom, he had fought too long to escape under Dumbledore's and Voldemort's oppression to be placed under another person's thumb.
But this time, he had no choice whatsoever. He wasn't foolish enough to think that he could escape Vendicare by himself. All of his friends had done their best to find any information about his flames but came up with nothing. It was unlikely that they would connect his disappearance with a secret society run by soul flame users rather than dead eaters looking for revenge.
Plus, what says they couldn't use Harry as bait even if he refused. It was better to accept this. Harry knew—and the Vendice certainly did.
A blood quill fell into his hand and he saw that one of the Vindice behind them had dropped it.
He stared at it with trepidation and with trembling hands, he signed his name imbued with his magic. The pen drew his blood as ink and his name was written on the back of his hand.
Thankfully, it quickly healed as fast as it appeared.
He then felt his magic tighten as the contact embedded into it. Like an unbreakable vow, it imprinted into him and held his life and magic in a tight grip.
Bermuda clapped his hand and directed Harry's attention to him.
"Wise choice Mr. Potter," he pointed out while sipping on his tea. "We will escort you to your room."
They exited the large office and Harry was escorted to a room that looked too much like one of those fancy pureblood guest bedrooms that Harry saw when he visited the Longbottom Manor.
Before they closed the door, Harry saw dark flames slip from Bermuda and slithered towards Harry's sky flames.
It then stuck to his flames and he shivered when the dark heavy flames coiled around his neck like a collar.
When he dropped to the large bed, he covered his forearm over his eyes. His face appeared pinched while he kept his mouth shut to fight off a scream of frustration from exiting it.
The world just loves to fuck him up, doesn't it?