Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.

Some of the subject matter within is taken from other stories, times, places, dimensions, and planes of existence.

Because, the magic never truly ends.

Chapter Three: Don't Belittle Small Monsters

The entire contingent of Rawkfawler House, security and all, arrived at the M.C.U.S.A. event Teleport point inside a central government building in Washington, D.C. that had been enlarged several times over. To the No-Maj, the American version of the slang word 'muggle', the interior of the Pentagon was a maze of endless corridors. If anyone knew it was such due to magic, it was doubtful what the reaction might be.

"Welcome, welcome!" a man checking invitations surrounded by guard forces both Auror and No-Maj said. The No-Maj would believe they were guarding a high government official's party, while the Aurors knew it was a magical gathering.

Charles handed over the invitation that glowed a sparkling soft blue from an inner pocket of his suit. After a short wand scan that turned the invitation gold, he led his party into the Presidential Confirmation Ball. As they passed through the doorway, a charm activated announcing them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rawkfawler, Heir, and escorts."

For a brief moment all conversation dropped off as the most powerful CEO in the American business world was announced. Moments after, as Charles and the family stepped down the staircase towards the floor conversation resumed.

"Play nice, don't kill anyone I can't cover up, and try not to poison the punch again by accident." Charles said, his gentle tone directed at Tim. Last time he'd been let out of the House, Tim had accidentally mixed a chemical concoction into the Ball's punch bowl.

Admittedly, many attendees had said it was the highlight of the year, although few could coherently remember the time spent.

"That was an accident dad, exactly how could I supposed to know what effect sodium pentothal and L.S.D. would have mixed together. I just thought it would help all the uptight people relax."

"Oh, they were relaxed, indeed. I don't think his Lordship the Grey Baron has ever been more relaxed at a party, the cagy bastard." Melissa said, through a brilliant smiling expression that matched her husband. Occasionally as they moved down the staircase hand waves were sent to single out friend or foe.

"This place is going to be so mind numbingly boring. I wish I had stayed home to train with Master Cho." Tim said.

As the security detail of Bruce Parkinson, Danielle Dugan, Shamus Creevey, and Lily Longbottom shuddered infinitesimally, Tim started to hum a cheerful tune.

"Shamus, Lily, Bat. Danielle, Alpha Two. I'm on Alpha One. Good luck, stay safe, shoot straight." Bruce said into the radio communicators as the team split up to guard their specific targets. Short range radio communication boosted by magic to make the transmissions undetectable, and unbreakable was one of their expensive safety tricks.

As he walked off towards the buffet table Tim said to his two shadows, "Nice to meet you both. I'm the future Heir. We didn't meet two years ago because I Portkeyed into the Ball by mistake."

Shamus and Lily glanced at each other before Shamus said, "Glad to make your acquaintance young man."

"I'm super hungry because of some stuff I've been experimenting on, so let's take over one of the tables. One of you ferry food, and the other can guard. We'll use the passcodes: Chocolate, Lavender, and Blueberries. Chocolate is imminent attack, Lavender is suspicious activity, and Blueberries will be FOF(Friend or Foe) identification." Tim said, following his protocol training for large gatherings. He really hoped someone was successful kidnapping him, because then he could try out all the fun things he'd been training on lately.

"Roger, passcodes relayed to Alpha One and Two, approved." Lily said, with amusement. This kid was probably the most well trained child she'd ever worked with. Well, at least the most well trained American, the recent Potter brood she was godmother too was excellent too.

For the next hour Tim consumed three times his weight in buffet food. Eventually, the kitchen requested that he privately order with them so as not to deprive other guests. With a small sigh, Tim agreed on the condition that suspicious staff may be stunned without warning. It seemed to take the waiter aback when he was warned, but he continued serving without delay.

"Such a large amount of food, do you have a hollow leg?" Shamus asked, curious from his position on the left side of the small table. In order to Ward the area around their small client, they had positioned his chair against the wall, while each guard took a side. This allowed a full 180 degree scan for Disillusioned, Invisibility Cloaks, and Imperioused threats. The darkened sunglasses that both guards wore made them look like characters from a famous new 20th century movie with aliens. They also had the added benefit of performing much like Mad-Eye Moody's famous twitching eye.

"Something like that." Tim said, pulling a minor potion set out and starting to mix. He could see the surrounding children were dying of curiosity to approach, but scared of his guards. Tim couldn't care less, if they weren't brave enough to come to him, they weren't worth knowing.

(((****)))

Jennifer Smith, Jen to her friends, stared at the strange blind boy in a suit guarded by two of the most lethal looking people she'd ever seen. Even her daddy's guards didn't look quite so intimidating. The strange boy wore a suit like an emperor, even his seer-band looked majestic. It was very odd though, Jennifer was extremely familiar with the current crowd of children, and he wasn't someone she'd seen before. Jennifer received admiring glances from most boys, and jealous ones from the girls. It wasn't her fault though that all her looks came from Mommy. Mommy had once said, "Even though I aimed higher, my looks couldn't beat that woman out for top man of our generation." After seeing the very same woman her mother lost to coming down the staircase earlier in the evening, Jennifer understood implicitly. There were probably few women in the world that equaled Mrs. Rawkfawler, and all of them were otherwise married. Jennifer still thought her mom did good to get second prize, after all daddy was now the President of M.C.U.S.A.

"Marcus, how much food has he eaten already?" Jennifer asked, gracefully. Her small childish form was merely a mask for a ravenous mind that calculated endlessly. At one point her daddy had joked that if it wasn't for the age limit on government service, his new job would be hers. She'd giggled and responded, there was no interest in a position where dealing with idiots was commonplace.

"Almost twenty-seven pounds of meat, half that of vegetables, and fourteen gallons of juice." Marcus, the sharply dressed leader of her guards said.

Is he even still human? Jennifer thought before saying, "I am going to approach him." Acknowledging, her guards formed a ring around her as she moved towards the boy's table. Admiring glances at her fairy-made blue dress that haloed her in glowing sparkles were ignored. Jennifer knew she looked good, but hadn't yet reached the age where she cared about it. Even though her Mom constantly harped about finding a match, she ignored it.

Perhaps I should immigrate to another country, one where mothers don't try to set up their children at age seven. If I have to listen to another sermon on the subject I might go stark raving mad. Jennifer thought, a little guilty for disparaging her mother.

Upon approaching within a few meters of the table, Jennifer noticed the telltale glimmer of mobile Wards. Expensive work, which meant the boy they were protecting must be equally as important as her. Even with minimal information to go on, Jennifer's mind was rapidly building up a profile of her subject. Pausing just outside the mobile Ward, she asked to enter politely. A brief discussion between the two bodyguards and the boy occurred before his voice drifted pleasantly out, "Two guards, no more."

Jennifer nodded, and picked Marcus along with Marvin. Both of them were twins, and extremely skilled at working together. Jennifer had the feeling though that even ten times their number wouldn't deter the professionals working for the boy.

Sitting down across from the boy she watched as the simple potions he was working were frozen with a charm. After that, they vanished into a spatial sapphire storage ring with the Rawkfawler House seal on it. Upon closer examination she could see a slight bulge that indicated a gun in he left chest area, as well as what looked like four sleeve-sheath variations around each wrist. A small silver locket with another sapphire nestled among unobtrusive cravat ruffles tucked into the inner suit's vest.

Well that explains one mystery. All the equipment though just makes another. This boy must be the mystery Heir of Rawkfawler House. Strange, how does he expect to inherit with such a crippling lack of sight? Jennifer thought.

"Would you care to play a game to pass the time, Mr…?" Jennifer asked, placing her hand on the table and lifting it to reveal a wizard's chess set. A whimsy sixth sense of intuition had caused her to make the offer, which turned into a flash of shock when he replied.

"Timothy. Are you any good?" the boy asked her with an expressionless face. The seer-headband made it easy for him to maintain a good poker face.

Jennifer kept her temper in check before saying, "I'm very good. Pick your color." Only seconds later did she realize it was odd that he could play, if he was truly blind?

"White." Timothy said.

"I'll play Black then." Jennifer countered.

The wizard chess set was quickly set up with pieces. Jennifer's forces showed a slight disgruntled air, while Timothy's forces were utterly rock still. A shiver of fear ran down her spine, but was quickly suppressed. It was rare that a player could control their forces completely without any movement.

"Good game."

"Good game."

Each of them finished the ritual greeting, and the game began.

Timothy opened on the attack with his center pawn.

Jennifer took a moment to consider before launching an aggressive counter with her own pawn.

Tim started to bring the Knights out, and Jennifer countered with well positioned bishops.

Knights, bishops, and pawns flowed across the board grabbing space and preparing for battle.

Finally, Timothy moved his Queen out to support a bishop.

Jennifer took the bait, trying to change tempo by opening her pawns up more.

Without hesitation, Timothy threw a bishop sacrifice out in order to disrupt the left wing of Jennifer's forces.

A few minor moves later Timothy's White was in a superior position, with the King castled. On the other hand Jennifer's Black was at a disadvantage, and had decided to crack open the center to regain tempo.

Jennifer looked up to see a wicked smile on her opponent's face.

"I can see the ending. Are you sure you want to keep playing?" Timothy said. The wicked smile, combined with the seer's headband, gave Jennifer a momentary pause of alarm.

No matter how she looked at the situation, Jennifer felt she was in a superior position, so she chose to ignore the taunt.

Starting from the center of the board her forces started to crumble. Brutal exchanges were made, pieces shattered, and without warning Jennifer found herself fighting a desperate war.

Timothy's method of playing was to slowly eat away at his opponent's forces, one step at a time. Jennifer couldn't figure out how, even though she was up on total pieces, her position on the board was disintegrating into chaos. Knights were crushed together, rooks were sacrificed without pause, and Timothy continued to amass pressure.

Finally, a critical pin occurred. Jennifer looked at the board realizing no matter how she moved out of the discovered check, her Queen was dead. It felt as if all along, she'd been playing in the palm of her opponent.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Jennifer opened them staring at the seer-headband Timothy was wearing.

"Congratulations on your victory." Jennifer said.

"Thank you." Timothy said, as Jennifer tipped her king over.

"Another game?"

"Did your skill level suddenly rise in the last half hour of playing?" Timothy said, smirking.

"There's no need to be rude." Jennifer said, tossing her silky black curls while her albino red eyes glared.

"And yet it's not rude to waste my time? Fascinating." Timothy said, raising his face to stare directly at her. It was eerie the way his dark silken seer-headband seemed to flash with two azure blue gleams for a moment. As if a demonic creature was staring out from across an abyss. The moment passed though, as Jennifer's face grew hot.

"How's a little cripple going to become the Rawkfawler Heir?" Jennifer said, anger giving her tongue a blade's edge.

"Do you really want to know?" Timothy said, his face seeming to relax back into utter indifferent calmness. It was as if an ice statue had suddenly been carved to resemble a young boy, then dressed in perfectly tailored threads.

For a brief moment Jennifer felt fear, before anger overcame it, "Everyone knows the name of Rawkfawler House. Everyone knows how the Heir has to be the strongest, fastest, most superior wizard to become Patriarch. There's no way a cripple, such as you Timothy, could succeed. When the Challenges start a little over a decade from now, your opponents will carve you into pieces." For a moment time seemed to stand still as the bodyguards behind Timothy stilled into motionlessness. It felt like the time Jennifer was kidnapped, when only the capriciousness of a Dark Wizard's obsession with chess had prevented death. That same razor edge feeling, as if the world was balancing on the thinnest of margins.

Deep glowing pits of azure blue flashed underneath the black silk seer-headband that bound Timothy's eyes. A terrible color that seemed to draw all the heat from the air, like a doorway into an ice cold realm of death. Both her bodyguards grabbed wrist wand sheaths preparing to draw.

"Ah, ah! Careful there gentleman." the male bodyguard said, his wand as well as the middle-aged female's, already out and covering the pair of twins. Marcus and Marvin froze, both brothers sensing barely hidden killing from the boy's guards.

"Let's let the children talk it out, eh?" the lady said, a cold smile on her face. Her expression said it would be a frozen day in the deepest pits of Hell when her charge was attacked without fatal repercussions. Jennifer could clearly feel the frozen chill coming from Timothy, and her lips grinned expecting a good show.

Timothy spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, yet somehow able to be heard clearly, "Little butterfly, so ignorant, so proud. Let me correct the mistake made in raising such a useless creature. My eyes see more clearly than anything such a pitiful mind could possibly comprehend. I can see everything, even the things other's do not. For example, little butterfly, how are the headaches every morning doing? It must be hard, so very hard, to be such a disappointment. I bet Mr. and Mrs. Smith secretly wish they had a more talented daughter, someone that Salem would actually be interested in. I mean, interested for more than just the family name. Or is it possible that they don't know yet? Perhaps you haven't told your parents the awful truth. After all, it might give them a heart attack. To know their daughter is barely a hair's breadth above being a No-Maj, practically a Squib. I bet the only thing such a girl could cast would be the Levitation Charm." Timothy's venomous words struck directly into Jennifer's mind. She gasped her hand covering her mouth.

How, how could he possibly know!? I haven't told anyone! Jennifer thought, tears crowding her albino eyes.

"Such a pitiful little butterfly, not even recognizing who is truly blind. Depart, if you dare return, be sure to learn manners first. Insect." Timothy said, giving a small wave with his sapphire ringed right hand. Marcus and Marvin immediately took action. Marcus grabbed their charge in a hug, practically whirling her away. Marvin rapidly put the chess set away before glancing with lethal anger at Timothy.

"Was that really necessary?" Marvin spat, before departing after his brother.

(((****)))

Timothy watched the small girl departing, crying her eyes out into the bodyguard's shoulder with a faint smile. Shrugging, he took out his frozen potions from the storage ring. Unfreezing them, he started once more on a particularly fun concoction that would give a splash of color to the somber clothing many people wore.

Lily and Shamus put their wands away before Lily spoke, "I agree. Is it really necessary to make an enemy of such a cute little girl?"

"Jennifer Smith should worship the ground I walk upon. Were it not for the desire to build relations with the first future female M.C.U.S.A. President I wouldn't have bothered to aid her." Tim said, his hands deftly measuring and sifting ingredients into the potion.

Shamus's face seemed to twist before he blurted out, "A-Aided?!"

"Of course, who else do you think could see the imbalance twisting through the golden veins in her head? I Un-Raveled the ridiculous mess that some sick bastard cursed her with. It was probably a Dark Wizard's work, some of the spell tasted faintly like dark licorice." Tim said, making a distasteful face, as he carefully tapped in a strange orange powder to the potion's mixture.

Only decades of maintaining a poker face under the most stressful situations saved the two guards. Lily and Shamus managed to prevent their eyes bulging, or gaping at their charge in jaw-dropping shock like deer in the headlights. If his claim was to be believed he'd removed a curse without any apparent visible effort, the likes of which they hadn't even detected.

Tim turned around pausing in his potion making to say, "Did you really think I bothered to play chess for so long, or blathered all that crap for kicks and giggles? I was delaying for time. That was some seriously messed up spellwork, I couldn't Un-Ravel it in a snap like I do normal combat stuff. Someone put a lot of care into cursing her, I had to burn up a lot of energy and concentration on it."

Turning back to his potion making Tim noticed a strange orange mist starting to creep out from his cauldron.

"I don't think it's supposed to do that…" Tim mumbled unaware that his two bodyguards had instantly Shielded themselves out of reflex. Both of them were quite familiar with the signs of a potion disaster in the making. Padma Longbottom, Potion Mistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry often felt the best way for her students to learn was experimentation. Experimentation as all potion students knew had rather…explosive…results, most of the time.

Seconds later, a loud explosion occurred dying the seer-headband Tim wore a deep orange. It also managed to alter his raven black hair into something resembling a lighting struck frizzy disaster. Small soot stains marred his otherwise pale face, it was everything both bodyguards could do to stop laughing. The surrounding Wards managed to block sound from going out, but that in turn made the sound inside them all the louder. Ears ringing, all three individuals winced shaking their heads to clear them.

"Perhaps too much Butterscotch? There is a faint smell of it now." Tim said, with a sigh. There was no point in stressing out. Potions were just never going to be his favorite subject. Lily and Shamus pulled a few Cleaning Charms out, and everything was quickly fixed. Unfortunately though, the bright orange of Tim's seer-headband appeared to be resistant to magical cleaning. Same for his frizzy hair, now stuck in a lightning strike look towards the ceiling.

"A good house-elf could probably solve this. Just have one of them look at it when you get home." Shamus said, with a smile.

"I will, thank you." Tim said, now appearing slightly less daunting dressed in a black suite with a bright orange headband covering his eyes. He didn't bother to mention his House used Sprites instead, that was a security secret. Even if these were bodyguards his dad trusted, he obviously didn't trust them enough to tell them anything about the House's security. Taking the unspoken yet communicated hint, neither did Tim.

His dad and mom were returning to the table their son was at after a few hours rubbing elbows with the great and powerful. It was tiresome attending these functions, and Tim knew his dad would much rather take a rusty hacksaw to his elbow than attend more than one a year. Sadly, mom seemed to delight in them causing no end of headache for his dad's mental sanity.

Well, at least dad gets to wrestle with mom later, although I still don't understand why he's always wearing a big smile afterward. Tim thought, with a shrug.

Upon returning to the table flanked with their bodyguards in tow, both parents managed to restrain themselves at the sight of their son. It was difficult, as his appearance now was both unbearably cute, and unbecomingly amusing.

"What a marvelous new application of color, Tim. I didn't realize you were going for such a…bold…look." his mom said, hand covering her mouth while her shoulders shook.

Tim sighed.

"Yes, truly my son. A very…adventurous…visage." his dad said, placing one arm around mom's shoulders before they both hugged each other, erupting in mirthful laughter.

Tim sighed again.

"Mooooooooom!" Tim said, a plaintive cry in his voice as the laughter turned into kissing.

Both his parents momentarily ignored him, lost in their own world.

Tim rolled his eyes and said, "Parents!" in mock disgust.

After both parents had managed to calm down from the almost hysterical amusement, they took a seat at the table. Bruce Parkinson and Danielle Dugan took up positions against the wall with their respective gender partners.

"So, how did things go? I understand that we've isolated you son, with all the training, but it is for the best." his dad said, placing his hands on the table and folding them. His dad took on a more serious tone, "There's a disease, I believe, at the heart of American magical society. The total and utter disrespect for those without magic. Squibs receive better treatment than our No-Maj, and that is completely ridiculous. For example, computers, those marvelous machines alone have the potential to revolutionize our world. Once someone solves the Tristal Tangent Equation, named after Bartholomew Tristal, we will be able to combine computers AND magic!"

"Yes, yes dear, wonderful, amazing. Truly a modern genius." Tim's mother said, just before kissing her husband on his flushed cheek. It always excited mom to see his dad sparkling with the mad genius unique to the Rawkfawler line. They had expanded their roots deep into the global economy with the Morganstein Company. Even then, Rawkfawler line was known for producing the odd hobby obsessed maniac here and there. No one really minded though, because such individuals always added to the bottom line.

"After listening to your dad's outburst on his favorite subject, let's turn to something a bit more serious." his mom said, her face still faintly smiling, "Who is the new teacher you gained in the Library?"

"Sifu the Book." Tim said, his hands tightening into fists under the table. He well understood the power of his parents. Should they decide Sifu wasn't a teacher worth keeping, they would take action.

Who knows the damage that could be dealt to me trying to remove Sifu the Book from my 'Wal' it could turn me into an imbecile, or worse. Tim thought, with a slight suppressed shudder.

His mother leaned in propping her elbows on the table and placing her chin in the upright palms, "Is She pretty?" A faint knowing smile drew itself on his mom's face.

Tim blushed a little before saying bashfully, "She sounds really awesome mom. Almost as good as you do when teaching me all that drivel, I mean, No-Maj educational stuff. It's like warm chocolate mixed with spices. Her energy doesn't show any strange colors either, a fine pure super pretty silverish-white."

Both of his parents appeared taken aback, although neither one looked unhappy.

His mother's tone changed to more respectful before she said, "The color, does it look like our House rings?" Tim glanced down at his ring noting the same silver sheen before replying, "Yes, it's the same not-silver color."

"Platinum energy!" Both his parents said, in a whisper of shock.

"It's the same color my magic veins are, isn't that normal?" Tim said confused.

Both of his parents looked at him with sudden serious expressions, and Tim said almost crying, "I-Is it b-bad?"

His mother was out of her seat and hugging him to her chest in a flash, "No, it's not my baby, it's nothing bad at all. You just managed to surprise us both that's all. When we had you tested as a child the color was golden. This woman, Sifu, did she help you change them?"

"Y-yes." Tim said, not seeing the astonished look that passed between his parents.

"I think we should discuss this more at the House." his dad said, gesturing to the bodyguards to depart.

Tim allowed himself to be carried by his mom, chin resting on her shoulder, as the family gathered together to head out. It was from this position that he managed to see something strange as they neared the exit to the room.

The nearby waiters that had been circulating and serving the partygoers suddenly had wands slipping out of their sleeves into waiting hands.

Tim recognized the threat immediately because his eyes could see the horrifying buildup of magical energy. As the first flash of green light hit their targets he screamed, "CHOCOLATE!" at the top of his lungs, hoping he was in time.

(((****)))

Bruce Parkinson's training had moved from simple muscle memory to the level of reflexes. The previously agreed on code words, although frivolously decided by a child, were nonetheless remembered.

Without knowing the exact situation the team tackled their employers to the ground behind a table near the exit. Kicking the table into a makeshift barrier, four separate harmonic Shields were layered immediately.

This instinctive level reaction was the only reason the Rawkfawler direct descent line survived that day.

As green flashes of the Killing Curse started flying around, Charles grabbed Bruce and Shamus, Melissa grabbed Lily, and Tim's small hand took Danielle by the shoulder.

"SLIPSHOD! POINT THREE! EXECUTE!" Charles Rawkfawler shouted, triggering the Emergency Portkey every family member had. The conditions for use also included any living being they were touching at the time.

In a sickening lurch everyone in the group was launched to the third pre-prepared safe point.

Without stopping after they appeared, Charles immediately summoned a green crystal out of his Patriarch spatial storage ring crushing it.

Bruce knew that type of green crystal well, it was a Summon Stone worth close to a hundred million Dragots on the black market. During his Auror days, it was a favorite of Dark Wizard organizations to call reinforcements.

The crystal was linked to three separate agencies that the Rawkfawler House employed for 24 hour emergency support. Each agency had over a hundred trained professionals, just a level below the personal guards they'd taken to the Presidential Ball.

Three direct Portals, a unique American Auror magic with enormous limitations and cost opened on the safe point spilling troops out. There were people dressed in dark charmed robes, those dressed in armor like medieval knights, and lastly individuals in modern combat gear with the letters S.W.A.T.U. on the chest pieces. The room's Bito(Bigger In Than Out) Charm provided enough space for everyone to assemble without crowding.

"There are an unknown number of enemies. Anyone with a wand that isn't us, is a target." Charles Rawkfawler waved his wand projecting the image of Jennifer Smith, her father, and her mother. "These are our Priority ONE rescues!" he said, next a few more images flashed denoting important members of the Council and their rank of priority.

"Knights first, setup the defenses, S.W.A.T.U. second, Auras last." Bruce said, before a new set of three Portals opened up into a scene of chaos.

The Rawkfawler Heir's mother sat on a chair off to the side whispering comforting words to him, "Honey you were fantastic, you did a great job recognizing the threat. People died, but that's not your fault. You are not a god, you did your best." Bruce nodded, the kid had done good spotting the threat.

The gathered forces immediately streamed through the open portals in coordination, all of them linked in the Magi-Com Command Net. Communication channels were separated into General, Command, and Private chat. General chat was for each division, Aura, Knight Templar, and S.W.A.T.U. to use among themselves. Command was between officers, and Private was for keeping the Patriarch abreast of things. Bruce made sure a Private channel was always open to update his employer, Charles Rawkfawler, in case anything needing oversight cropped up.

The Rawkfawler House might be providing an armed response, but they certainly were not charging back into battle. That was what Bruce and his partners had been hired for.

As he entered the Portal, Bruce glanced at the Knight Templars streaming out the other end with him. Each of the Knight Templars carried a tower shield almost as tall as them. Along with magically enchanted armor granting enormous strength, it made them the equal of walking tanks. As they arrived at the Presidential Ball, the Knights formed up in a skirmish line, preventing curses that could be blocked with a physical barrier. Behind the knights were sniper-level gunman in modern tactical gear with S.W.A.T.U. on their tac-vests. Their guns and bullets were both Charmed to provide maximum accuracy combined with overwhelming damage. The final rank behind the gunners, were Aura, a special trained wizard unit made up completely of Ex-Aurors. The Aura provided support spells, Shields, and very rarely combat Curses.

"Defensive setup, moving Fortress!" Bruce shouted, and like a well-oiled war machine the gathered forces obeyed.

Several small cookie-sized metal golems were thrown down in front of the current forces. Enlargement Charms expanded them into gigantic proportions. The new-made Tank Golems, controlled by Aura, were positioned in a way that allowed snipers to take shooting positions on them. Thus shielded and safe from effective return fire, the S.W.A.T.U. started to thin enemy ranks. The back end of the Tank Golems opened up allowing Aura wizards to flood up a short ramp to get inside. Charms, Shields, and new protrusions that casted heavy Curse magic started to form on each of the golems as they plodded forward on rolling treads.

The Presidential Ball was held in a Bito Charmed room in the Pentagon, enough to hold two football fields comfortably. Since it was one of the highlights of the social season, it was appropriately bedecked in lavish comfort.

Here and there Knights could be seen patrolling around their assigned Tank Golems, absorbing Killing Curses on their tower shields to stop damage from hitting the golems. Charmed to reflect almost all offensive magic, these massive tower shields were also self-repairing. Unlike thirty plus years ago, when Harry Potter's goblin wrought shield had shattered in combat against Voldemort, these devices were truly monstrous. In addition to the vicious shields, the glowing black longswords the Knights used also cut through most known, non-ritual, defensive magic. The Knights put them to good use loping off limbs, legs, or heads from the enemy wizards that came too close to the Tank Golems. Like the infantrymen of old, the Knights defended their golems preventing any effective counterattack aimed at slowing their movement.

Behind the Knights, up in Shielded nests on each Tank Golem, S.W.A.T.U. snipers took a grievous toll on those enemy wizards that escaped the Knight Templars violent melee attacks.

The third, and final, tier of offense was the Aura who threw overwhelming concentrated Curses at key targets. Additionally, a small portion of the Aura were providing support to both of the other forces. The Aura gave Strength, Speed, and Shields to everyone from inside the moving Tank Golems.

Within a few minutes of combat, the enemy forces started trying to surrender.

"Assassins deserve no quarter. Scum like this isn't needed in the wizarding world." Bruce said into the communication net.

"Agree." Danielle said.

"Agree." Shamus said.

"Agree." Lily said.

"So mote it be." Bruce said after conversing with the other officers, his voice delivering no mercy to the enemies. Rawkfawler wasn't a Dark House by any means, however, Charles didn't countermand his order either.

We barely got out of this alive to retaliate. Our employer obviously feels an object lesson for these bastards is the right move. Bruce thought, his opinions affirmed by the lack of refusal to counter the kill order.

After giving the order for total annihilation, Bruce Parkinson accompanying Unit #1 were the first on the scene to the section where the President of the M.C.U.S.A. had managed to hold out. Several members of the Council had thrown up a hasty barricade of tables, chairs, and Transfigured items.

As the Tank Golem drew closer, the frightened witches and wizards threw spells ineffectively at it in fear.

"Please remain calm. We are Morganstein Private Security Forces." Bruce said, in an Amplified voice.

"Morganstein!"

"We're saved!"

Cheers from the Council wizards and witches that finally saw hope after the surprise attack were loud. Overwhelming relief was seen on the faces of many peeking out from behind their barricade.

"Currently we are in the process of mopping-up enemy forces, please remain here while we do so." Bruce said, his voice projecting calming assurance.

Two more of the Tank Golems were called over to Bruce's position while the rest of the forces continued sweeping the Ballroom clear of enemies. The enemy were identified as the infiltration unit of the largest Scourer organization, Burning Blood. Burning Blood had long desired to decapitate the ruling M.C.U.S.A. and place themselves as the leaders of the American magic community.

Bruce Parkinson communicated the findings immediately to Charles Rawkfawler over the Magi-Com Command Net.

"Are we certain it's them?" Charles said, distress evident in his voice. The terrorist organization had long been considered a headache, but not a real threat. Their preaching of wizard supremacy and anarchy were thought to hold little sway among the masses. Apparently, that concept was merely a false front generated by Burning Blood to hide their real atrocities.

"All of them have the Amulets. We estimate from eyewitness reports, it was a planned massacre. They appeared to be aiming for John Smith, the new President." Bruce said, his voice serious. "Without a doubt, this was decades in the planning. All of them had forged identities dating back at least twenty years. We're running scans now against the Database at Morganstein. It looks like the waiters were the first wave, then they used a Wardbreaker to setup a temporary Portal, sir."

"Suicidal!" Charles gasped.

"That's how fanatics are, sir. They don't consider the cost, I mean in terms of human life, the Wardbreaker alone costed thirty willing sacrifices, and you can't Imperious them. No one can use that magic without soul death, at the least. We've closed off the Portal and set new Wards on the place. It should be secure within the half-hour, sir." Bruce said, his voice had a sad melancholy tone.

Charles immediately realized something was wrong, "Who did they get?"

"Smith's wife, Angelica. She leaped in front of her daughter, Jennifer, to prevent the worst. John Smith, I mean the President, isn't taking it well. The little girl Jennifer was asking to speak with you though, should I put her on?" Bruce said.

"Do it." Charles replied, in a snap decision.

"H-hello?" a small girl's voice entered the Magi-Com Command Net.

"Hello, darling. How are you doing, Jennifer?" Charles said, in a warm voice.

"Daddy is not going to recover in time to lead the country, immediately. We need to take action without delay. I'm going to return to our house with Mom's body, and him. Before he recovers from the shock, I was wonder if I have Mr. Rawkfawler's full support?" Jennifer said, in a calculating tone. Her voice held barely suppressed rage, chilled, like a frozen hell.

"What type of support would you require?" Charles said, cautiously.

"We both need something out of this. I need to know my mom didn't die in vain defending me from crazed lunatics. Rawkfawler House needs their latest proposal green lit through the Exchange Student program." Jennifer said, pausing before continuing, "Desperate times call for unique solutions. I will use any means to make sure I don't lose Daddy to grief. Some of those methods will make him more, suggestible, in order to calm him. During that time, I'm sure it would be possible to get a few Presidential Executive Orders passed." Jennifer said, her tone conjuring visions of ice caverns and frostbitten bodies.

Charles Rawkfawler appeared impressed, the girl wasn't a crying train wreck and already had a workable solution to her desires. Granted, what she was suggesting was highly illegal, but it would be effective. Before the President was able to function again, the country still needed a leader. If that leader happened to barely reach Bruce's knees it didn't matter, as long as she was competent. The use of a Presidential Executive Order would carry Immunity as well, granting Charles son Timothy the status of Exchange Student Ambassador to Britain. It would provide another layer of protection for the boy, so Bruce wasn't shocked at what happened next.

"I always look forward to working with future leaders of our great nation." Charles said, his tone conveying the double meaning, "Bruce, please make sure the Smith family has everything they need taken care of."

"Acknowledged, sir." Bruce said realizing he had just entered into his employer's inner circle of trust. Eager to show his abilities once more he acted quickly, a few short messages later Jennifer Smith was granted access to the Command channel of a very specialized unit assembled per her orders.

As many ideas were formed and plans created, Bruce could already imagine the papers tomorrow.

(((****)))

PRESIDENT MAULED, ASSASSINS FALL, ALL AT THE BALL!

A goblin and elderly gentleman sat together watching an older lady, a middle aged lady, and young girl play in the small patch of garden nearby. The table they sat at was a wrought iron construction with amply padded chairs. A house elf stood nearby, garbed in a tuxedo of expensive cut and cloth. On the table between goblin and man a copy of Freedom's Pharsight lay, it was the most accurate paper in America.

"What do you think Assistant Ambassador Zakkclaw? Will this affect our attempts to secure relations with America?" the man said. His eyes were a bright green, barely tinted with aging. A relaxed casual business suit adorned him, finely tailored to fit. Gray hair had started to creep its way onto his head, but he still had a commanding air about him. This commanding air was slightly spoiled when he cooed and wiggled his hands at his granddaughter nearby. She giggled back and turned his salt and pepper hair orange and green.

"Oh dear, that wasn't quite what I expected when I taught her color Charms. Sorry, Harry dear." the older lady said, hiding a grin behind her gloved hand. All three women were dressed for an outing in the sunshine glade. The elderly woman had a dress that wouldn't do any Victorian grandmother wrong. The middle aged lady had a perfect casual pantsuit, and held a small folder notebook. Least professional of them all, was the little girl, dressed in a one piece floral print dress and holding a small wooden wand.

"If you can pull away from teasing Tiffany for a moment, boss, I think I can run down the list of potential pitfalls." Zakkclaw said, his own suit carefully crafted by the finest goblin tailors. He ignored the fact that it was currently a hideous purple and green shade.

"What do you think Hermione, Luna, and Tiffany? Should I let Zakkclaw ruin the mood with serious business?" Harry said.

In response, the older lady, Hermione pulled out a wand and created a Ward around the ladies. Clearly, the witch was powerful, as the Ward blocked all sound of the previous playful childish laughter.

"Well, I guess that solves that." Harry said, turning to face Zakkclaw directly.

Zakkclaw leaned on the table grabbing a cake, before taking a sip of his tea. "We've got three main problems here. First, we need to identify how America responds to this attack. Second, we need to take the opportunity to make inroads with the M.C.U.S.A. as soon as possible. Third, we need to figure out exactly what Morganstein Company did. I am getting conflicting reports from Goblin Intelligence on the matter. Not a lot of information is flowing out from America, but what is disturbs me."

"Explain." Harry said.

"Morganstein Company as everyone well knows is the only global banking business besides Gringotts. America, unlike Britain, immediately realized the potential threat of having their banks under non-human control. Since the 1700's they have competed, ever more successfully, with us goblins. Morganstein is owned wholly by the Rawkfawler House, which is controlled by the current Patriarch, Charles Rawkfawler. The Patriarch has always desired better relations with us, while refusing any attempts to break his stranglehold on America. Goblin Intelligence has been able to finally produce the fact that him, and his wife Melissa Rawkfawler, have a child. The boy, or girl, is apparently kept out of the public eye quite a bit, like my goddaughter Tiffany." Zakkclaw paused to get another cake before continuing, "The child, known as the Rawkfawler Heir, was making an appearance at the Presidential Ball. According to many conflicting sources, he is a blind seer. No one is really clear on if that is true or not, though. My sources indicate he seemingly predicted the attack, and with his warning, the Patriarch made it out. What came next is the real meat of the matter."

"Go on." Harry said.

"The Rawkfawler Response as it's being called by all intelligence agencies, was brutal. Seconds after escaping out of the Ball by Portkey, their forces returned en masse. Knight Templars, S.W.A.T.U. gunners, and Aura. The best of the best, summoned in seconds, and spared no expense to Portal inside the Ball with brutal results. The Aura produced some type of mechanical Tank Golem, and the rest is covered in Freedom Pharsight." said Zakkclaw tapping the paper on the table between them with a well manicured claw. As a result of Tiffany experimenting with color Charms, the claw was a solid electric blue. "They crushed the attackers, rescued the President, and pretty much saved the day. What worries me is the technology they showed. Rawkfawler plays most of his power close to his pinstriped chest, it boggles the mind that he's willing to show so much, now, merely to save a few bigwigs on M.C.U.S.A." Zakkclaw said, gulping down more tea with a somewhat worried expression.

"Zak, what would you do if someone tried to kill Tiffany?" Harry said, turning to face the goblin across the table suddenly.

"I'd call the Centurions, activate the Special Unit, and when we were finished, light the remains on fire." Zakkclaw said, his face showing how obvious the answer was.

"And there you have the reason why Rawkfawler responded so harshly. I bet they barely missed being murdered. Charles Rawkfawler, like me, would never let someone who struck at his family go free a second longer than he could fix." Harry took a small sip of tea before continuing, "From a goblin perspective, he reacted completely appropriate. Not everyone has the stomach to issue kill orders in such a situation. I have no doubt, he sees no reason to let a threat to his son live. Open up a dialogue with Rawkfawler on the side, see if there's anything we can help him with. Both nations, Europe and America, need to stand firm against the current Chinese expansionist policy." Harry said turning away from Zakkclaw.

Harry finished his tea, and motioned to Hermione, his wife. Nodding she took down the Warded barrier. Peals of childish laughter rang out as Tiffany enacted a new charm that turned her grandfather's suit bright yellow. He smiled and caught the imp as she ran and jumped up to his chair.

This was everything he had worked so hard all those years against Voldemort for, and nothing, not even an ancient Chinese Emperor would take it away from him.