Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Alexander and Kingsley sat across from one another, sizing each other up from across the fire. Lee Jordan and the unnamed woman stood behind Kingsley, flanking him with their wands in hand. Their caution was warranted, considering that the Mudblood Brigade stood around them all in a loose circle, with watchful eyes and wands drawn.
"I don't know if you recall meeting me at Hogwarts a few months ago," Alexander said, breaking the silence, "but my name is Alexander Dantes."
If Kingsley was bothered by Alexander not introducing anyone else, he didn't show it. "Well met Alexander," he said with a polite nod. "As I said earlier, my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. There is much for us to discuss."
"Indeed." Alexander let the word hang in there, enjoying how the woman behind Kingsley glared at him. "Jordan, I didn't think you were a Mudblood."
Kingsley's trio frowned at that. "I'm not," Lee Jordan said.
"That's not a word you should use so casually," the woman warned. Alexander couldn't help smirking at her, drawing chuckles from his group.
"Why not? It is what I am. It's what my enemy hates and fears and murders," Alexander said. "Who here, is a Mudblood?"
A handful of hands rose, including Alexander's own. "Now, who here thinks Mudbloods should be allowed to live?" he said, raising his other hand. The hands of the rest of his group rose, and even Lee Jordan raised his hand half-heartedly.
Alexander chuckled, lowering his hands. "I chose the name of my group very carefully. I want the Death Eaters to know who is coming for them."
Kingsley frowned. "Yes, your repeated murders. You should be more careful before you draw the wrong attention."
"The wrong," Alexander drew out the word, "attention."
"Yes." Kinglsey nodded, his deep voice rumbling. "The Death Eaters could make things very difficult for your group."
Alexander considered Kingsley for a long moment, judging by how series he was by that statement. To his surprise, the ex-Auror was entirely serious, and Alexander couldn't help but begin to laugh at the sheer stupidity of his statement.
Alexander paid no mind to the look of offended anger that crossed the trio's face. He just kept laughing and laughing, clutching his sides as his mirth overflowed. His laughter was the only thing heard above the crackling of the fire, much to the unease of everyone. He finally calmed down.
"Oh, Kingsley," Alexander wiped a tear from his eye, "I didn't know you were such a joker."
"I'm entirely serious," was the firm reply. Kingsley's jaw was tight.
"And so am I," Alexander said, his mirth disappointing in an instant. His magic began to stir under his skin, razor-sharp, and begging to be released. He ruthlessly brought it under control. "We will not stop killing Death Eaters, Snatchers, and anyone foolish enough to keep parroting Pure-blood propaganda."
Kingsley grew alarmed at that. "We must remain calm. We cannot go around killing everyone who disagrees with us. We need to have a society after this is all over to rebuild."
"Ha! Why would I want this society to survive? Pure-bloods in power, oppressing Muggle-borns and Half-bloods, murdering them? Getting out of jail on account of their blood and money? How the hell do you consider that a society worth saving?"
"It has its downsides, I will not argue against that, but we should not delve into violence," Kingsley protested. "We must band together if we are to survive these troubled times."
"J!" Alexander barked, causing James to step forward. "Why did the Death Eaters kill your fiance?"
"Because she was a Mudblood."
"C!" Cassandra stepped forward, closer to Alexander. "Why did the Death Eaters kill that family?"
"Because the father was a muggle," Cassandra spat.
"D!" Douglas moved, standing across from James. "Why did the Death Eaters kill your family?"
"Because my wife was a Half-blood."
Alexander glared across the fire at the shell-shocked trio. "Muggle-born, Muggle, Half-blood. You hate one word but fail to recognize those three are all just as insulting. Every time a Pure-blood says one, they are really saying lesser being, and nobody acknowledges that."
"No, that's not it at all," Kingsley tried to protest. "They're worried that the Muggle-born can be a threat to the safety and stability of our world."
"The Pure-bloods contolled over ninety percent of our government before the Dark Lord supposedly conquered it. There was not a single Muggle-born on the Wizengamot. Pure-bloods had preferred hiring status, get out of Azkaban free cards, connections before they even started Hogwarts. What threat were the Muggle-born to them?" Peggy asked, speaking for the first time that night.
"Well, you outnumber them, and they were worried-" Kingsley started to say.
"So that excuses the torture and murder of children? Of withholding their education? Snapping their wands?" Leo demanded, cutting him off.
Kinglsey raised a placating hand. "Now, I admit that this year is especially bad, but there were concerns that with the increase of Muggle-borns into the Wizarding World, they'd bring with them muggle ideas! That they'd destroy the Wizarding World."
Mina stepped forward, disgusted with him. "They're so terrified of losing power that they're unwilling to teach their new immigrants? That they refuse to change? And you sit here and defend them to us? Whose side are you on?"
"I'm on the side that saves the Wizarding World from bloodshed," Kingsley tried to counter firmly.
Alexander scoffed. "Hundreds of Muggle-born are dead, with more being found and tortured every day, along with their families! Blood is being spilled, and you dare tell me you want to spare the Wizarding World from bloodshed? How many have you saved in this war?" Alexander demanded.
"We've managed to help a handful of families, but they're difficult to move successfully these days," Kingsley said with false modesty.
"Oh, a few families? Hey, T! How many families did we escort out of the country this week?"
"Forty-two." Was the instant reply, causing Kingsley's group to drop their jaws in shock.
"This month?" Alexander asked again.
"Two hundred and one."
Alexander never let his gaze leave Kingsley's shocked eyes. "And how many Death Eaters and Snatchers have you killed this month? Everybody!"
"Six."
"Seven."
"Four."
"Eight."
"Six."
"Five."
"Eleven."
"Eighteen," Alexander finished, watching the blood drain from the faces across from him. "Now answer me this, Kingsley. How many have you killed? How many of these monsters have you removed from this world?"
Kingsley swallowed but narrowed his eyes. "None," he said proudly. "I refuse to stoop to their level."
"How nice it must be, to be that idealistic. To be able to wash the blood of innocents off your hands. To pretend that everyday lives aren't being lost because you refuse to act."
Silence fell over the campsite as the two groups looked at one another. Kingsley's trio was tense, suddenly aware that they were surrounded by killers, while Alexander's group was almost relaxed in comparison, although no less focused.
"We're leaving," Kingsley said, rising. "I think we have very different ideas on how peace should be achieved."
"Yes," Alexander agreed. "I prefer a lasting one."
As Kingsley's group moved out of the camp, to Apparate away, Alexander called out one last time. "And Shacklebolt? If a Death Eater patrol raids us, I'll know it was you, and I will not rest until I have your skull as my trophy."
Kingsley gave Alexander a hard, angry look, but nodded anyway. He vanished into the darkness.
The moment that Alexander confirmed they were gone, he turned to others. "Pack your things. We're leaving."
Such was their trust in him that no one hesitated. Theodora approached him, using her wand to remove all evidence of the fire at his feet. "You don't trust him? I may not like him, but he's one of the good ones."
"Good or not, everyone breaks. Besides, I don't like someone knowing where we are," Alexander explained. Theodora nodded and moved to help her wife pack their belongings.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Despite his desire otherwise, Alexander and the Mudblood Brigade didn't lay any more traps for Death Eaters for a month. The winter Holidays made them work harder at rescuing Muggle-born and their families, trying to make sure that as many families had a safe Christmas.
The stress they were all under made things tense, and tempers were shorter than usual. Every other day Alexander had to break up petty fights from between the other men and women, and it was growing worse for them all. Finally, it reached a breaking point.
It was only a few days before Christmas. Their group had apparated onto a street near the coast, intent on rescuing the Muggle-born family who lived there. What they arrived at was a scene of horror.
Bodies lay all over the street, partly decomposed. There were holes and burn marks spotting the homes, signs of spellfire. But worse was the family they were there to rescue, nailed in a parody of a cross, to the tree in their front yard. The worst was the body of a small girl, her eyes wide with terror, but empty of life.
It was an unfortunate part of their line of work. Far too often, they arrived too late to save the families they sought. At best, those victims had a quick death, but that was usually not the case. The Death Eaters and their ilk were not kind murderers.
But as Alexander looked into that dead girl's eyes, he felt the dam that held his emotions in check break. "Get under cover," Alexander ordered. The Mudblood Brigade quickly dove behind fences and cars, hunkering down with their wands at the ready.
Alexander stood in the middle of the street; his rebar wand clutched tightly in his hand. He pointed it at the ground, carving deep runes into the road, empowering them a moment later. Finally, he was ready.
"Voldemort."
The street was silent for a single heartbeat, just long enough for Alexander to appreciate the quiet rustling of the waves in the distance. Six pops, from in front of him, alerted Alexander that his targets had arrived.
He didn't give them time to say anything. Instead, his wand shot forward violently, almost like a dagger. Sharp green light shot out, smashing into the ground before their feet. The spell shook the earth, creating a minor earthquake and causing the group of Snatchers to lose their footing. One of them fell on some of the runes Alexander had carved.
The runes flashed, just long enough for the wizard to realize the danger he was in. He opened his mouth to shout a warning but the runes exploded from underneath him, sending out shards of rock in every direction. The man was shredded to pieces, and the rest of the Snatchers were gravely injured.
Alexander offered no quarter, hurling cutting curses at them furiously. The battered witches and wizards could offer no defense and were quickly cut down.
"Holy shit," Oscar muttered from the bushes. None of the Mudblood Brigade had been prepared for the suddenness of Alexander's attack.
"Voldemort!" Alexander shouted again.
"Get ready," Cassandra ordered, and the next group of Snatchers apparated in.
These ones seemed marginally more competent than their predecessors, able to deflect the first few curses that Alexander threw at them. Unfortunately for them, they weren't expecting the rest of the Mudblood Brigade to appear, cutting them down from the sides.
"VOLDEMORT!" Alexander roared, his chest heaving.
"Not again," someone muttered.
The group that appeared this time was larger than both of the previous ones put together and was accompanied by two figures wearing skull masks. Chaos descended upon the street.
Spells flashed through the air, destructive and punishing. The runic traps flashed underneath the feet of the Snatchers, activating with deadly blasts. One of the explosions blew the mask off one of the Death Eaters, revealing Rookwood.
James roared, leaping from his cover. Curses flew from his wand, smashing into everything in front of him without rhyme or reason. The young man ran down the street, eyes burning hatefully as he stared down Rookwood, who was watching his approach curiously.
"Get back in cover, J!" Alexander ordered. James paid him no mind. Alexander cursed as he was forced to duck a killing curse. "J!"
James and Rookwood began to trade curses, ignoring the destruction they wrought around them. Rookwood deflected a spell, paying no attention to the fact that it smashed into a Snatcher's face, killing them instantly. James was no better, throwing out so many spells, he almost killed Mina with a stray Cutting Curse.
"Dantes!" Peggy shouted over the fighting. "We need to get out of here!"
Alexander paid her no mind, he wanted these bastards dead just as much as James did. He managed to banish a Snatcher into another, causing both to land on one of his rune traps. They died in a messy explosion.
Unfortunately, the blast alerted Rookwood of the danger beneath his feet. He began to move carefully to the side, dodging curses and keeping James focused on him. James, so focused in his blood rage, matched him pace for pace and stepped onto one of Alexander's traps.
James screamed as his legs were blasted from underneath him, shredded to pieces. Rookwood disarmed him a moment later and stepped forward to secure him.
Clarity returned to Alexander's mind. His recklessness had endangered his entire group, had caused James to be gravely injured. He needed to fix this, but he didn't know how.
A small group of Snatchers formed up around Rookwood, surrounding James, who lay pitifully on the ground. The second Death Eater was dead, or at least Alexander assumed that considering the fact that his head was detached from his body. And suddenly, Alexander knew what to do.
"Retreat," he ordered the Mudblood Brigade. They had formed up around him when he wasn't paying attention.
"But James," Peggy began. Alexander cut her off.
"I'll handle it. Just get back to camp and get ready to run the moment I arrive," Alexander ordered.
"But we can help," Cassandra whispered.
"No. I'll handle it. Now go."
The Mudblood Brigade did so, vanishing with a pop. Alexander glared at the remaining eight witches and wizards, eyeing them with contempt, but it was the figure at their feet that held his gaze. James, bloody and broken, lay gasping there with blood bubbling on his lips. He reached out feebly to Alexander, and one of the Snatchers ground their boot into his hand, causing him to scream.
"I know your face," Rookwood said, stepping closer. "You're the Mudblood."
"Come now, Death Eater. Surely we're above calling one another names?" Alexander asked, stepping closer to their group, but also the dead Death Eater.
Rookwood shrugged, moving away from the safety of his group fully. "Dantes, then. Who's your friend on the ground?"
"Soon to be dead if he's not healed," Alexander could see that James could hear him. James gave Alexander a desperate, pleading look.
"Oh, don't worry about that, let's talk about you," Rookwood said. He didn't seem bothered to be stepping through puddles of blood, or over dead bodies. "Are these rune traps yours?"
Alexander finally stopped moving, standing over the corpse of the dead Death Eater. He sunk his magic into the corpse and began to weave the enchantments he needed. "They are."
"Fascinating," Rookwood also stopped. "I know they're not teaching that at Hogwarts, so where did you find them?"
"I made them," Alexander couldn't help the small, proud smile that graced his lips. "J, you still alive?"
"Yes," was the weak reply, blood still coming from his lips.
"He needs help," Alexander said. Rookwood said nothing, only looking at him calmly as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. Alexander sighed, "I see. Right-hand red!"
Alexander's shout confused the gathered Pure-bloods, but James understood. After all, Twister was a very popular game for young men and women.
James slammed his fist into the ground next to him, right on top of one of the last rune traps left on the ground. It exploded violently, killing James instantly and shredding the remaining Snatchers. Rookwood instinctively turned, distracted, and Alexander activated the magic at his feet.
He had spent years in a room formerly belonging to a student who explored Necromancy in the 1800s. The student had gone as far as to kill and reanimate a centaur, permanently souring relations between wizards and the beasts, before his creation killed him. He had left behind a wealth of knowledge that Alexander had eagerly absorbed.
A creature the size of a dog burst out of the body of the Death Eater at Alexander's feet. It was all bones, blood, and muscle, and it lacked anything that resembled a head or eyes. But it didn't need to see while Alexander could direct it.
It lunged forward faster than any man. It was upon Rookwood in an instant, clawing the man with razor-sharp claws and making beastly sounds.
Despite the suddenness of the attack, Rookwood acted without hesitation. He banished the Bone-beast, for that's what Alexander had created, back and threw up spells to protect himself. Alexander immediately began to test those defenses, with his creation and spells, to try to find a weakness.
Rookwood eyed his slashed arm, the flesh already turning a nasty green. "And you know the basics of Necromancy. The Dark Lord would be most interested in you."
"Unfortunately for the Dark Lord, I have no interest in working with a man who wishes me to die," Alexander said. His Bone-beast shrieked as it suddenly caught fire, the magic of Rookwood's protections overwhelming it. Alexander let it collapse into a pile of blood and bone in disgust.
"A shame. You could be a great boon to his forces," Rookwood said, casting a spell to reverse the necrosis Alexander's beast had inflicted. "Instead, you chose to be a threat to our society, how dreadful."
Alexander gave him a nasty smile. "I will be more than a threat, of that I can guarantee."
Rookwood smiled. "We'll see." And with that, the man's body turned into that black smoke he had used last time, his protections collapsing in an instant. Alexander immediately sent spells into the smoke but to no avail. They passed through harmlessly.
Before Rookwood could speed off, Alexander began to cast diagnostic spells, to try to find out as much information as he could. Rookwood's cloud seemed to indulge him with an air of amusement before it swept away almost lazily. Alexander could almost hear the mocking edge of his laughter fade into the wind.
Filled with disgust, anger, and loss, Alexander apparated away.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
AN: Mudblood Squad sounds like a crappy superhero team. Mudblood Brigade sounds like someone fighting a war. That's why I chose the name.
Potion bombs/poisons: As interesting as it would be, it doesn't happen considering the mechanics involved. (And Mina is more of a researcher, interested in the why of magic, while Cassandra focuses on healing potions/salves). The Rune traps are basically the extent of it, because you can carve them on almost anything, and charge them. (there are restrictions to this, but you wouldn't try to hold up a mountain with a strand of hair anyway, so it's moot.)
Guns: They're not going to have guns. If you want a story where a bunch of wizards decide to forgo their strongest weapon (magic), to use something as limited as a gun, write it yourself. I won't be addressing this further.
The clothes they wear: They're all wearing muggle clothing, as that's far more practical to running around in the "wilds" of Britain than robes.
If it wasn't obvious by my writing, I don't enjoy writing out useless details, of which character descriptions usually are. Part of it is reader immersion, I would prefer if you filled in the blanks for yourself, but I also strongly dislike padding my stories to make them longer. It's the same reason why the time skips are so large, and why I mention what they did during that time. The only thing worse than watching a training montage is reading about one, and we've all read far too many.
Kingsley: I threw in Lee Jordan because canonically they meet at some point and do Potter Watch. I figured that'd be easier with them traveling together. The woman is Hestia Jones. She evacuated the Dursleys, but it seemed weird two witches and wizards were assigned to it. I figured it'd be good to put her here. She was also with Kingsley at Hogwarts when the Death Eaters invaded. I hope Kingsley and Alexander's interaction came across natural. It's always a pain writing somebody who is not only wrong, but has a holier than thou attitude.
Alexander calling out Voldemort three times: Yes, I'm poking fun at it being similar to Bloody Mary. I also wanted to show that Alexander was also stressed because of everything, and he made a mistake in calling too much at once. I figured the Snatchers would have some sort of protocol, if Voldemort is being repeated in an area, send out a larger group to make a deeper message.
I hope you're all enjoying the story!