Harry Potter : The Cardmaster Chronicles

The mansion was eerily silent now, its halls echoing with the remnants of screams long since silenced.
Severus stepped over the bloodstained floorboards, his boots leaving faint imprints on the crimson-soaked wood.
His armor glinted faintly in the dim light, the serpentine insignia on his chest glowing ominously as he advanced deeper into the labyrinthine estate.
V, his monstrous contract serpent, slithered silently alongside him, its glowing eyes scanning the darkness for prey.

The room he entered next was dimly lit, a faint magical glow emanating from a desk piled high with documents and ledgers.

Severus's gaze sharpened as he sifted through the papers, his armored fingers flipping through them with methodical precision.

Maps, lists of names, transactions—all pointing to a web of illegal trade in magical artifacts. And then he saw it—a name scrawled hastily on the corner of a ledger:

"Luka."

His lips curled into a smirk beneath his helmet.

Viktor had a twin, and this twin was no mere shadow.

He was a key player, possibly even the mastermind behind the muggles' sudden access to magical items.

Severus pocketed the ledger and turned to V.

"Find him," Severus commanded, his voice a low growl.

The serpent hissed in response, its massive body coiling as it disappeared into the shadows.

Moments later, the sound of crashing echoed through the halls, followed by a guttural scream.

Severus moved swiftly, his steps unhurried but purposeful.

The chamber was silent except for the ragged, uneven breathing of Luka, Viktor's twin, slumped in the steel chair.
The faint light of the enchanted lanterns cast long, wavering shadows on the damp stone walls, highlighting the blood pooling beneath his feet.
Severus stood over him, his cobra-themed helmet gleaming menacingly in the dim light, the V-Buckle on his waist glinting like a predator's eye.

Luka coughed, blood flecking his lips, his face a mask of pain and swelling. He tried to lift his head, but the effort was too much.

The steel chains binding him to the chair clinked faintly as he shifted, his breath hitching in terror.

Severus's voice cut through the heavy air, cold and venomous.

"You will tell me everything. Where did you and your brother obtain those magical artifacts? Who is supplying Muggleborns with enchanted weapons? And how does a halfwit like Viktor end up with a pistol engraved with ancient runes?"

Luka's bloodshot eyes darted up to Severus, his lips trembling.

"I-I don't know..."

The slap came faster than he could react, Severus's gauntleted hand crashing against Luka's face with a sickening crack.

The force of the blow snapped his head to the side, blood spraying from his mouth.

"Do not lie to me," Severus hissed, leaning closer, his voice dripping with malice. "You know, and you will speak."

Luka's breathing quickened, his body wracked with shivers.

"Please... please, I swear, I don't—"

Severus straightened, his cold gaze never leaving Luka. He reached for a card from his Advent Deck and slid it into the V-Buckle.

"TRICK VENT."

The chamber filled with shifting figures as illusory duplicates of Severus appeared, their cobra-themed helmets reflecting the faint light in a ghostly dance.

They circled Luka, their presence oppressive and suffocating. Luka's eyes widened, darting wildly between the identical figures.

"Which one of us will strike first?" Severus asked, his voice echoing from all directions, disorienting Luka further.

"Perhaps all of us? Or perhaps none. How long do you think you can last, Luka?"

One of the illusions lunged forward, its blade slicing through the air, stopping just short of Luka's throat.

He screamed, flinching violently, the chair rattling against the stone floor.

"STOP!" he cried, tears streaming down his bloodied face.

"I don't know anything! I swear!"

Severus tilted his head, his real form stepping forward. He drew another card, sliding it into the buckle.

"ADVENT."

V slithered out from the nearest mirror, its massive, serpentine form coiling around the room.

The snake's glowing eyes locked onto Luka, its forked tongue flicking the air as if savoring his fear.

"You've met V, haven't you?" Severus said, his voice icy.

"He's quite hungry, you know. And he prefers his meals alive."

Luka's sobs grew louder, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Please! Don't! I'll talk! Just... don't let that thing near me!"

Severus nodded slightly, and V paused, its head hovering inches from Luka's face, fangs bared.

"Speak," Severus commanded.

"It's... it's a group," Luka stammered, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "They call themselves The Forge. They deal in magical contraband—artifacts, weapons, anything. They don't care who buys, as long as they pay."

Severus's eyes narrowed behind his helmet.

"And how did Viktor come into contact with them?"

Luka hesitated, and Severus's patience snapped.

He grabbed Luka by the hair, yanking his head back.

"Answer me!"

"V-Viktor found them!" Luka cried.

"He found them years ago, through a contact in the underworld. They gave him the pistol... the artifacts... everything!"

Severus released his grip, letting Luka slump forward, gasping for breath.

"Who engraved the runes on the pistol?"

"I don't know!" Luka sobbed.

"The Forge has craftsmen—mages who specialize in that kind of work. They're the best, hidden in the shadows."

Severus stepped back, crossing his arms.

"And where can I find them?"

Luka shook his head frantically.

"I don't know! I swear! They never let us know their location. They come to us, always in disguise."

Severus regarded him silently for a moment before turning to V.

"He's lying."

"No!" Luka screamed.

"I swear, I'm telling the truth!"

Severus crouched down to Luka's eye level, his tone dangerously calm.

"You think I've reached the limits of what I can do to you, Luka? You're wrong. Very wrong."

He placed a gauntleted hand on Luka's chest, pressing down with enough force to make the man gasp.

"V," Severus said softly, "what do you think would happen if we let him taste a little venom? Just enough to paralyze, to make every nerve scream in agony without the mercy of unconsciousness?"

V hissed, its massive head lowering, fangs glinting in the faint light. Luka thrashed against his restraints, sheer panic overtaking him.

"No! No! Please! I swear, I've told you everything!"

Severus's hand moved to Luka's broken fingers, twisting them with deliberate slowness.

Luka howled in pain, his body convulsing.

"The Forge," Severus said, his voice sharp as a blade.

"Who runs it? Names."

Luka's eyes rolled back, his mind teetering on the edge of madness.

"I don't know their names! Just... just codenames! The Dragon ... The Iron Hand... The Weaver!"

Severus released his grip, letting Luka sag in the chair. He straightened, his cold gaze never leaving the broken man before him.

"Pathetic."

Luka whimpered, his voice barely audible.

"Please... just let me go..."

Severus chuckled, a low, humorless sound.

He turned to V.

"Kill him."

Luka's head snapped up, his eyes wide with terror.

"No! No! You promised—"

Severus tilted his head.

"Just kidding."

V lunged, its massive jaws closing around Luka with a sickening crunch.

The man's screams were cut off abruptly as the snake coiled tighter, silencing him forever.

Severus watched impassively, his mind already turning to the next step. He activated his communicator.

"Raymond."

"Severus," came the reply, the voice calm but expectant.

"Did you get anything?"

"The Forge," Severus said, his tone cold.

"A group dealing in magical contraband. They supplied Viktor and his men. I'll bring you the details in person."

"Understood," Raymond replied. "I'll be waiting."

Severus deactivated the communicator and turned, his boots echoing against the stone floor as he left the chamber.

V slithered silently behind him, its glowing eyes flicking back to the bloody remains of its meal.

The hunt was far from over.

And Severus intended to see it through to the bitter end.