A/N - Yes, even though I hate doing A/Ns, I figured I should put one in here, to apologise. This was supposed to be here monday, and be near double the length. Unfortunately, things did not go to plan, and now the schedule which I thought was reasonable has had to be dumped... So, sorry.

A Warlock's Fist

Two days had passed, in which the witches and wizards learning and teaching at Hogwarts had caught glimpses of men rushing from one of the towers to the edge of the wards and apparating away and coming back at odd times. Two day, in which the wizarding world at large had not seen hide nor hair of the Chief Warlock. Two days, in which Harry Potter slowly recovered in the Hogwarts infirmary.

The Ministry had fielded nervously polite almost-inquiries from across Europe, as everybody wondered "What will the Warlocks do?" And then, on the third day, the question on everybody's mind was answered.

=WTWM=

Charlie Cooper was on the way back from his job, heading to his flat and almost there, when he saw something that no British man or woman had seen in more than one thousand years.
It started with seven men in long black robes with white masks walked down the middle of the street Charlie was on, forcing what little traffic there was to a standstill. Charlie watched with more than a little puzzlement as they stopped in front of a small store and stood around for a minute talking to each other.
Then his puzzlement turned to fear, when one of them seemed to wave a hand, and the entire front of the store exploded outward, the flying fragments splitting to go around the group in robes. The shockwave bowled Charlie over, and he felt a trickle of warmth running down his face. He lifted his hand, feeling like everything was moving incredibly slowly, and touched his face. When he looked at his hand, a small corner of his mind noted Oh. My hand is red. Oh. Must be blood...
Charlie rolled over and pulled himself behind a parked car, and watched from his hiding place as the people in robes seemed to throw balls of light into the store with the missing front. He watched as they dragged a woman from the building, threw her onto the street, and threw a ball of light at her which made her scream, like nothing he'd ever heard before.

At Hogwarts, in the tower inhabited by the warlocks, the Redstaff suddenly jerked upright and seemed to stare into nothingness for a long moment. His hands clenched on the edge of the small table he and the other three were gathered at, and sorrow covered his face. Albus and Kingsley reached out, grasped his shoulders, and held them until Arthur came out of his vision.
He looked down at the floor for a second, before glancing at each of the three in turn and saying "Well, Chief, it seems we have an opportunity. There are seven Death Eaters destroying a small shop in London right now. I believe the shop belongs to a half-blood who was rather helpful to us in the last war, even if she never openly defied the madman. The are holding her under the Cruciatus right now."
Albus stroked his beard for a second before nodding, "Yes, yes, this should be where we start. We will apparate there. Kingsley you will take the lead once we are there. Once we have secured them, Xeno, you will be called upon. Arthur, you will be on my left, and you will shield us at all times, in case there is a second group watching."
Kingsley grinned, and Xeno closed his eyes tight for a moment before his face settled into blankness. All four turned towards their staves, and held out a hand to summon them. The staves flew through the air, and the few wand warlocks in the tower looked over as the Chief and the Three took their staves in hand.
Albus looked at Arthur and asked, "Arthur? You will take us directly there?" Arthur nodded, and the other three put a hand each on one of his shoulders. Arthur Weasley placed both of his hands upon his deep blood red staff, and began to focus. The air in the room began to haze and shimmer, and small winds seemed to spring up from nowhere and die back down almost as soon as they were felt. Static crackled through the room, and just as the room began to feel as if lightning was mere seconds away, the four disapparated with a mighty crack.
The wand warlocks left behind looked at each other, and almost simultaneously shook their heads, and went back to whatever they had been working on.

Meanwhile, Charlie was hiding behind the car, and wishing for the screaming to stop. The poor woman on the ground had been screaming for nearly a minute, and the sound was only getting worse, as she contorted on the ground. Six of the seven in robes were standing around her now, laughing as the seventh waved his hand back and forth above her, laughing harder the more she screamed.
As Charlie was watching, for a moment he felt his ears suddenly hurt, as if the air suddenly had become hugely pressurised for one moment, then almost no pressure the next. Just as he felt that his ears were about to explode, the earth seemed to ripple underneath him and he heard a tremendously loud noise, almost like a cannon firing.
For a split second, he started to wonder what was happening now, before the car he was hiding behind was picked up and thrown over his head, and then he was tumbling in the wind with no thoughts other than a desperate wish to survive.

Kingsley felt Arthur's magic dragging him to their destination, and stretched out his arms and staff before him, and waited for the shock of landing. Half a second later he stood in a small street, with seven Death Eaters before him looking stunned from the tumult of Arthur's apparition. Just as the Death Eaters shook themselves out of their shock, Kingsley whispered words that seemed to twist in the air and threw out hands and staff, and four black robed wizards were wrenched to stand on the tips of their toes as their arms splayed out.
For a second, they hung there in the air, before a grating cracking sound was heard, and they dropped to their knees on the cold hard pavement. One coughed wetly, and his bone white mask fell off. He coughed again, and bright red blood spilled down his chin. He breathed out, wheezing and looked down at his chest in stunned disbelief before looking back up and saying hoarsely "You've killed me. No, I can't die. I'm a Death Eater. I can't die..."
Blood bubbled out of his mouth with the last word, and he collapsed forwards, followed seconds later by the others kneeling next to him.

Albus cleared his throat and said "Must you, Kingsley? You didn't even ask them to surrender first!" He turned to look at the remaining three and spoke in his kindest voice, with a kind smile. "Perhaps you would like to drop your wands, yes? Otherwise Kingsley may feel compelled to start being nasty, and, well, that's just not something I want see today, after such a lovely breakfast..."
The three, who were standing frozen in fear, looked at the four warlocks before them and almost as one, dropped their wands.

Charlie, meanwhile, had come to an abrupt halt lying awkwardly against a wall, and watched the confrontation in shock, not believing what he saw. He watched the four men, lead by the old man with a long white beard formed a circle, and the man in the front stretch out his staff. He watched the robed people die, and saw the blood dripping from their masked faces, and for the first time in his life, felt fear so strong that it numbed his mind and made his body feel like ice. He watched as the red-headed man with a staff tossed a glinting coin onto each of the dead men, and then pressed one against the three left standing.
He lay there, frozen stiff with terror, as the old man waved a hand with a short stick in it and an almost see through silvery bird appeared and then flew off. Unmoving, he lay there, as more people appeared, and looked around in horror, before talking to the old man.
He saw the old an give instructions, before waving to the other three with staffs, and then call out a word and disappear, along with the robed people. He could do nothing but watch, as one of the newcomers walked up to him and waved her own small stick at him, and then he remembered nothing of all that had happened forever more, until he woke up in hospital and was told that he had been caught in an explosion.

=WTWM=

In the warlock's tower, twenty-two men were patiently going about their various duties, sifting through parchment and paper, monitoring crystal balls and other devices when Dumbledore's patronus flew through the wall and spoke in the Chief Warlock's voice. "We are coming back in, we have three prisoners alive and four dead. Be ready to take custody."
One of the warlocks moved over to the west side of the tower and picked up a large pitcher of water. He knelt and poured the water out, into a circle and pentagram incised in the floor. When the water filled the shallow carving, he put the pitcher down and drew a small pin, with which he pricked his thumb. He squeezed his thumb until three drops fell into the water, then wiped his hand on his robe and proceeded to draw runes with with the tip of his wand along the inner side of the circle while maintaining a slow, rhythmic chant almost at a whisper.
When he finished, for a fraction of a second a silvery wall sprung upwards from the circle, before fading away. The now exhausted man sat back, and then stood to get something to drink, feeling near to fainting.
One of the others quickly moved over to help, and the warlock muttered "Thanks, 'delus" before collapsing into a chair.

Fifteen warlocks stood ready when the Four and their captives were brought in by portkey, and they rushed to take the live Death Eaters and immure them in the circle, throwing them in roughly, before speaking a word and watching the silver walls light up, and become impenetrable.

Four of the other warlocks had taken the bodies, and were searching them thoroughly, and placing everything found onto table, to be examined later.

=WTWM=

And later that day, as word spread of what happened, the Ministry began to panic all over again. The foreigners who had come to see what was happening sent their reports back to their own Ministries, and a second round of urgent conferences began, and debates began and ended, all over one small confrontation. But still, no one knew what was to happen, and so, all the watchers decided to bring up their wards, and wait to see what would happen.

Once again, the world held it's breath, and waited for the next act...