A/N: It seems that some people are still experiencing issues with FFN. Hopefully that gets worked out, but if not this story is being cross-posted to AO3 as I mentioned previously.

Chapter 10

They couldn't afford to waste time. While they were still reapplying their concealment charms, Harry started leading them away from the dead quintaped as quickly as he could manage.

"We might be able to skip the silencing charms," said Susan as she jogged behind Harry. "We tried to distract the quintaped back there by shouting, and it didn't even seem to notice."

Harry thought about the suggestion for a few seconds. If Susan was right, and the quintapeds were deaf, then forgoing their silencing charms would certainly help their coordination. On the other hand, if she was wrong, they might have to deal with another fight far sooner than he'd like.

"I'll drop my silencing charm," he said eventually. "Everyone else, keep them up. That way we test the theory without risking everyone."

"Harry, even if that is reasonable, there's no way it should be you," said Susan between breaths.

Finally feeling like they had some space between them and the dead quintaped, Harry slowed back to a regular walk. "I know, I know," he said. He knew she was right, but there was no way in hell he was going to order one of his team to do it. "But you know if there's anyone here who can deal with one of those things getting on their case, it's me."

He thought about that for a moment. "Well, actually, it's Diana. But removing her silencing charm doesn't really help us in any way."

"It should be me," said Susan, still clearly not happy with his logic. "My idea; my arse."

It was a reasonable point, and one that Harry was able to shoot down with ease. "Pulling rank here I'm afraid, Susan."

She grumbled a bit, and Harry knew he'd likely get an earful when they got back to the Ministry, but she accepted it. They climbed another small knoll, and paused when they got to the top.

Diana looked back in the direction they'd come and gasped. "There's dozens of them!"

Not only were there dozens, but more were arriving every second, Harry noted. From all over the island, they'd converged on the place where their little battle had taken place. He couldn't see much more than that though. Their bright orange fur stood out starkly against the dark greens, greys and browns of the island, but it also meant it was almost impossible to pick out any individual quintaped from a distance.

"What are they doing?" he asked. He knew Diana's senses were superior to his own. He could use a spell to improve them, but there was no way he was going to cast unnecessary spells so close to such a large group of quintapeds. "Can you see?"

She grimaced. "They are fighting over the remains of the dead. Much of it has already been consumed."

"They're cannibals!" said Smith, looking horrified by the thought.

"Are any of them following us?" Harry asked.

"No," said Diana, shaking her head. Harry could tell she was still watching them fight over the morsels of their fallen brother's flesh. "Not that I can see. They are all far too preoccupied."

That was a mercy, at least. Not wanting to waste any more time, Harry led them back down the other side of the small hill, and they continued their circular spiral path to the MacBoon village.

Soon it was in sight once more, and this time they could see the individual buildings. It was very different from the McClivert village on the other side of the island. Where the McClivert buildings barely even deserved the name, the MacBoon village looked as if it had been destroyed recently. Some of the earthen roofs were still intact, and a few doors hung loose on their hinges.

"Superman was here," said Diana, as she looked upon the scene before them.

She was right, Harry realised quickly. There were thin traces of burned grass here and there, and the damaged buildings looked very much like the aftermath of one of Superman's more conspicuous battles. "What about quintapeds?" Harry asked, as he scanned the buildings himself for any sign of them. "Can anyone see one?"

"Nothing," said Susan, and she was soon echoed by Smith and Quigley.

Diana took a little longer to respond, but eventually she spoke, "I do not see anything suspicious."

Which was suspicious in itself, to Harry's thinking. He'd heard the calls that had gone up when they'd killed the quintaped earlier, and most of them had come from the direction of the MacBoon village. Had they all gone out in search of their fallen… friend?

"What about a detection spell?" Smith asked hesitantly.

It was a reasonable question. After all, it was normal procedure when hunting dark witches and wizards, but quintapeds were something entirely different. "You know how the spell works," he said as he shook his head. "If the quintapeds are as sensitive to magic as they seem, there's no way they won't be able to sense us long before we can see them. That one on the beach was able to detect our portkey from who knows how far away."

"Perhaps you should all remain here," said Diana as she scanned the buildings again. "I can move faster than a quintaped, and I can fly too. I could check all of the buildings and bring you whatever I find. If I am unable to find anything, then at least we will know if it is safe for you to check with your magic."

Harry couldn't fault the logic. "Seems like a good idea. We'll keep an eye out up here for any quintapeds coming home."

She flashed him a pleased smile, before she rose into the air gracefully and a moment later she was gone, with only a rush of air to announce her departure.

Harry tried in vain to track her search of the village, but she moved much too fast. By the time he was able to catch sight of the swirling eddies of dust and grass, she was already gone, moved on to the next building.

It took her barely any time to search every one of the houses, and less than a minute later she returned. As she descended slowly from the air to land lightly upon her feet, she said, "There's obvious signs of a struggle, but not a single quintaped in any of the houses."

"Right," said Harry. There was definitely something strange going on, but it was obvious Superman had beaten them to the village by at least some hours if the damage was anything to go by. Perhaps the quintapeds had abandoned the village as a result of the big fight that had clearly occurred. "In that case, we go down. Diana, can you stay up high? If you see anything, shout."

"I understand," she said, before she rose once more into the air, spun, and flew off to hang in the air over the village.

Harry waved to Susan, Smith and Quigley, before he started walking towards the outermost buildings of the village. "We'll start in the centre and work out," he said, as they passed them by. "If they kept it anywhere, it would be in the middle."

The buildings weren't built to any kind of organisation that Harry recognised. There was nothing readily obvious as a road, and instead it was like every house had simply been built up wherever its owner had been standing when the idea occurred to them. They moved quickly and quietly though the village until they reached a larger open area, which was dominated by a much bigger long-house that seemed to have taken the brunt of whatever fighting had happened when Superman had come to search for the cauldron.

The interior of the long-house was completely trashed, with not a single piece of intact furniture remaining. The roof was almost completely collapsed, though a lot of it had exploded outwards rather than onto the floor of the building. Many of the large stones that formed the walls were cracked, knocked free, or missing completely and the gaps and holes they left had soil spilling through them onto the floor.

If the cauldron had been there, it certainly wasn't anymore.

""Diagnostic spells," said Harry after a moment's thought. It was entirely possible that they would draw the quintapeds in like moths to a flame, but there was really no other option. He briefly considered being the only one to do the diagnostic spells, but in the event the quintapeds did sense the magic, they could cover more ground in their limited time with all four of them working the problem.

They all cast their diagnostic charms over different portions of the ruined building, with Harry taking the centre, where a fire-pit had once dominated the space. After the fight, it was just as ruined as every other part of the building, but the remains of what once had been were obvious enough.

As the misty magic spilled from his wand, illuminating any tiny trace of magic it could find, Harry almost thought the spell wasn't working at all. There was nothing at all that turned up, not even the faintest remnants of spells long forgotten.

"You got anything?" he called out to his companions.

Only Smith had found anything. "There's some blood here," she said as she pointed to a few dark droplets on the floor.

"Good find," said Harry as he moved over to take a look himself. He cast his own diagnostic charms on it. "It's from a magical," he said, peering at it more closely.

"Is it from Greengrass?" Smith asked.

"Probably," said Harry. It looked fresh, and there shouldn't be any other magicals in the area. "Take a sample to get checked out."

Even as he spoke, Diana descended through one of the holes in the roof. "They're coming, and in great numbers. I hope you found something."

"Shit," said Harry. They must have sensed their magic use. Part of him wanted to stay, to keep checking, but he knew that was stupid. One quintaped had been more than enough of a problem for them. "Right, portkeys. Now."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the portkey that had been prepared for their departure. He held it out for Diana to touch, then tapped it with his wand. As it activated, he felt something but it wasn't the tell-tale yank of a working portkey. Instead, all it managed was throwing them each to the ground.

Without stopping to think about what that could mean, Harry pushed himself to his feet, grabbing Smith as he did so to help her up too. "Try to apparate, now," he commanded. He could hear the thundering of hundreds of club feet as they closed in on them with alarming speed.

He grabbed Diana's hand, and twisted on his heel, mirroring the actions of Smith, Susan and Quigley. None of them went anywhere. It was like the air around them was made of lead, and their attempts at apparation failed completely. Not unexpected given the fact that the portkeys had failed, but Harry had hoped that maybe some of them would be able to push through the strange resistance.

It wasn't like an anti-disapparation jinx, which felt more like a giant hand which would yank the witch or wizard back, out of their apparation. Instead, it felt like trying to walk through solid rock.

It was obvious that Smith and Quigley were not far from panicking, but Harry knew he had to keep his cool. He'd been in worse situations, he was sure, even if he couldn't remember what they might have been right at that moment.

"Physical barricades!"

His wand started moving in a blur. First, he repaired the roof of the building, and layered every kind of unbreakable and toughness charm he could think of over it. As he did that, Susan levitated one of the larger displaced rocks and used it to block the doorway.

"I hate to be the one to ask this," she said as she directed it into place, "but how are we planning on escaping?"

"I could carry you all to safety," said Diana.

Harry hadn't even considered that possibility. It was definitely better than fighting their way out. "Do it. Sticking charms, and hold on tight."

Smith and Quigley both grabbed onto her arms, holding on tight despite the sticking charms. Diana lifted slowly into the air, completely unbothered by the weight of them. Then Susan hung from the golden lasso cinched to Diana's waist, her wand free in case anything went wrong.

In the time it took them to do that, the quintapeds had almost completely torn apart the hastily constructed defences. As soon as a hole appeared in the roof overhead, Diana took to the air.

"Hold on tight!" she said, accelerating upwards.

A moment later, Harry's falcon animagus form leapt into the air behind her. He flapped his wings rapidly to gain altitude.

The quintapeds weren't about to let them go so easily, however. As he fought his way higher, Harry risked a quick look down, and saw the creatures swarming all around the long-house. He saw their beady little eyes follow each of them as they rose quickly into the air. Diana was able to far outpace him, but she was also the most obvious target.

Then they leapt. Like they'd seen before, when the quintaped before had flipped in mid-air, they seemed to explode upwards. One of the larger ones jumped so high and so fast, that it snapped at Susan's feet, and she only narrowly avoided losing one by pulling them up at the last second.

They were not out of the woods yet, though. Another, even larger than the last, launched itself upwards at them. Harry saw immediately that it would reach Diana and her passengers with ease. He did the only thing he could. He transformed back into his human form, and intercepted the creature with a slab of conjured lead which dissolved rapidly as soon as it came into contact. It lasted just long enough to knock the quintaped aside.

He started falling back, and was about to transform back into his bird form when he felt a grip as strong and as unyielding as steel grasp his foot.

A few things happened at once. First, a bizarre coldness settled over him, not completely unlike the effects of a dementor nearby. There was no screaming, unless you counted the distant shouts of alarm from Smith, but something was very definitely wrong. He tried to transform, hoping desperately that the quintaped would lose its grip on him as he did. The change did not come.

Like the power that somehow stopped every attempt at apparating away, that cold feeling descended over him, and the transformation simply would not come. He could feel it. He could feel his own magic reaching out to the falcon, but it shied away. Instead, he was left nearly helpless as he was pulled closer to the wide-open mouth of the quintaped.

A bright red spell splashed uselessly against it, surely the first thing Susan could think to cast. The dirty orange fur that covered the beast glowed like fire where the spell hit, but the creature was unperturbed.

It was almost like it was happening in slow motion. He felt himself falling back down to the earth, and he watched as Diana slowed in her ascent. In that moment he caught her eye, and saw the indecision there.

"Go!" he shouted.

Despite her obvious unwillingness, he saw her reach the same conclusion he had. If she tried to help him, she would probably only doom her current passengers.

Harry didn't have time to say anything more, though. If he wanted to live for more than the next few seconds, he knew he had to act quickly. Apparation, or any other kind of translocation was seemingly out, so his only real option was to try and find some way to fight them. He only had to buy himself a little while.

Wind rushed in his ears, and the quintaped that was still holding onto him pulled him closer, seemingly more intent on eating him than it was worried about the rapidly approaching ground. He pointed his wand at Wonder Woman's already rapidly retreating form, and yelled an incantation that was lost in the howling winds, but the spell worked.

So fast that it actually hurt, Wonder Woman's intricately decorated sword flew into his hand, and without wasting a moment, he swung it at the arm holding onto him with every ounce of his strength. He had no idea what the sword was made from, but it cleaved through flesh, sinew, and bone with ease. The quintaped screeched in either pain or rage, it was impossible to tell which, as blood pumped from the stump.

It tried to spin in the air, remaining arms flailing wildly. An arm reached out to grasp him again, but the ground was approaching far too quickly. Harry had barely enough time to arrest his own momentum before they both landed upon the ground. The bone-cracking collision between quintaped and the solid earth was sickening, but Harry landed lightly enough that he barely even felt his own touch-down.

His problems were far from over, however, as he was still surrounded by dozens of quintapeds. More arrived every second, drawn either by his own spell-usage, or the incessant calls of their brethren. He'd landed only a short distance away from the bulk of them. Far too close for comfort.

At least Diana and the rest of his team were well out of their reach. He tried again to change into his falcon form, but it still would not come. Surely some lingering effect from the quintaped. He'd have to find some way of fighting.

All he needed to do was avoid dying for the minute or two it would take Diana to get back. It was pretty simple if he put it like that. There was no point in trying to run, he could probably only manage a couple of steps in the time it would take the quintapeds to cover twenty times that distance. Instead, he decided to try and hold his ground.

He adjusted his grip on Diana's sword, and momentarily wondered if he was going to get told off for taking it like he had. Really, in the circumstances, that might be the best possible outcome.

The quintapeds were closing the distance rapidly. Thinking quickly, he spun his wand in his hand, and drove it into the ground. The earth around him, out to a distance of nearly a hundred meters, turned into something with the consistency of quicksand. The first quintapeds to reach the patch of earth thrashed madly as they started sinking, but then Harry felt the transfiguration start to slip, as he'd felt his other magic fail when it came into contact with the creatures.

Around the half-sunken quintapeds, the transfiguration quickly failed, and they were left stuck deep in the earth. They flailed and cried, and tore at the earth around them with whatever free limbs they had. It wouldn't take them long to free themselves, but it bought Harry time as every step they took sunk into the earth before it set hard around them.

Next, he raised his wand high, and from it issued inky black clouds that expanded quickly in the air above his head. He felt the pressure drop almost instantly, and heavy rain and hail, nearly as large as snitches, started to fall. He transfigured the hailstones into iron, steel, copper, any metal he could think of in the hope that one or more of them might better resist the quintapeds' ability to drain magic. Then he sent them rocketing across the open space towards the horde.

They cried out when they were hit, but it sounded less like pain or fear, and much more like surprise to Harry's ear. A bigger problem was brewing, however, as many of the quintapeds were opting to avoid the mire, and instead had started gathering all around the perimeter. He was able to count nearly thirty of them, of all different sizes. The smallest was no bigger than a large dog, but the largest was truly gigantic. It was taller than even Aragog had been, and surely far heavier.

Then, one of the larger ones decided to simply try and jump over Harry's transfiguration. It was obvious that it was going to easily make the jump, and Harry knew he couldn't allow that. His wand flashed again, and a bolt of lightning arced from the dark cloud that was already swirling overhead. With a blinding flash, and a sizzle of flesh, it struck the creature in its centre of mass, drawing a pained screech that surely could have shattered windows. It fell into the mire, and sunk a small way before the ground around it set hard.

For a moment, Harry thought it was dead, or at least incapacitated, but its legs, which Harry had thought were completely stuck, with their club feet waggling uselessly at the sky, reticulated backwards upon themselves, and the quintaped pulled itself from the solid earth with seeming ease.

Harry saw muscles tense beneath its orange fur as it readied itself to jump at him again, but he didn't give it the chance. He engorged a stone, transfiguring it into a slab of lead nearly a foot thick, which he sent at the quintaped with meteoric speed. He could feel the charms and transfiguration unravelling as the two collided, but it stood up better than the conjuration. It knocked the quintaped back, and left it reeling and unsteady on its feet.

It was a small victory, though. While he'd driven one of the larger ones back, the smaller ones were closing in, slowly but steadily. Another half a dozen of the larger ones readied themselves to jump at him.

Then the biggest one called out, and it felt almost like his insides had been turned to jelly. The sound vibrated through him, and the air was stolen from his lungs. He staggered, and tried to draw a breath that would not come. Then, just when he was about to lose his footing completely, that terrible noise stopped, and so did all the other quintapeds.

The huge quintaped was covered in scars and even had a few patches of grey in its matted orange fur. It started walking slowly towards him. So powerful was the effect it had on the magic around it that Harry's mire set hard in a wave before it, and each club-foot it set down met solid, untransfigured soil.

Banished hailstones evaporated before they could so much as touch the creature, and a desperate bolt of lightning fizzled to nothing, barely a spark by the time it reached its orange fur. It flashed weakly over the beast, but it was clearly unfazed.

With huge, deceptively slow steps it crossed the space with ease, completely unbothered by the spells Harry threw at it. Curses, jinxes, transfigured weapons and even a desperate gout of fire hot enough to melt iron simply petered out, or was extinguished in the air before it could so much as trouble the creature. Harry swapped Diana's sword over to his right hand and readied himself.

Behind the huge quintaped, a train of the smaller ones followed it, crossing on the bridge of untransfigured earth created at its passing. He really hoped Diana turned up soon.

Then, like an angel that had heard his pleas, she was there. Just as the huge quintaped was about to reach out to attack Harry, Wonder Woman's golden lasso whipped out from the clouds overhead, and bound the creature's arm tight.

The sound the huge quintaped made was bone-rattling, and Harry could feel the rage. It struggled against the lasso ineffectively, either trying to break it, or pull it from Wonder Woman's grip, but she held firm.

Instead, she spoke to the quintaped. It was a strange thing to see and hear. The sounds she made were alien, and yet there was that faint, unmistakable accent that he recognised as Diana's. The moment she spoke, the quintaped stopped struggling. Its beetle-black eyes locked onto her and flashed red.

The calls of the other quintapeds stopped too. Had they actually understood her?

"You can speak to them?" Harry asked, not bothering to hide his incredulity.

"The Lasso allows me to learn the language of any creature," she said before saying something incomprehensible to the huge quintaped. Then it responded. It actually responded. Harry couldn't understand a word that was being said, and wouldn't have even known where to start if he wanted to try and mimic the sounds it was making, but there was no doubt there was comprehension there.

"He claims to be Quintius MacBoon, clan leader of his people," said Diana, as she descended slowly from the air to land beside Harry. "He demands that all outsiders should leave the island of his people."

"Tell him we came after Superman, and that he's searching for the Pair Dadeni," said Harry, thinking quickly. "All we need to know is if they still have it safe, or if it is lost."

Diana quickly translated for him, and the answer was returned almost immediately.

"He says that the skyman, Superman, did not find the cauldron, because it was taken many years ago," said Diana, translating as the quintaped continued speaking. "The Kings of the Old North learned of Bridei's theft, and killed many of his folk to reclaim it, long before the changing. They took it to… the lowland hundred? What happened to it after that, he does not care."

That, at least, was a place to start. "In that case. Perhaps we should get going," said Harry. The other quintapeds were crowding closer, and Harry had no desire to hang around longer than strictly necessary.

The huge quintaped, Quintius MacBoon, if Diana was to be believed, issued another strange rumbling sound.

"He says that we may leave, but only to bear word to the world beyond the waves," said Diana. "None are to set foot upon MacBoon land, under pain of death."

"I think we can manage that," said Harry drily. He certainly did not intend to return, at least.

"Then let's go," said Diana as she released the lasso from Quintius, clasping it back at her waist.

Then Diana took to the air, holding Harry firmly by his shoulders. This time, the MacBoons didn't try to stop their escape. Instead, as they rose higher into the sky, away from danger, Harry looked down to see a hundred pairs of beady black eyes flashing red as they departed.

A/N: A minor clarification on languages in the last chapter:

There are two kinds of Insular Celtic languages: Goidelic (ex: Irish, Gaelic) and Brittonic (ex: Welsh, Cornish). Pictish is generally believed to be a Brittonic language, but it is almost completely unattested except for a few names. It was largely replaced by Gaelic later on. At the time of the Pair Dadeni myth, the Orkneys would have been Pictish, but by the time of Quintius MacBoon, they would be solidly Gaelic. Thus, there is some confusion, as 'Buan' has different meanings in Goidelic and Brittonic languages. He was called 'Buan' at the time, possibly meaning 'The Swift' in Pictish, but the story was recorded in Old Irish, in which it could mean 'The Enduring'. Things became further muddied when Gaelic became the dominant language, and surnames started to solidify, at which point the (by then Gaelic speaking) descendants of Bridei chose to call themselves 'MacBoon', incorrectly assuming Bridei's epithet was already Gaelic, thus getting them the 'son of the enduring one' translation, when that had not actually been his epithet.

Probably far more depth than anyone really wanted to hear, but I don't think it comes as a surprise to people who read Shadow of Angmar that I might delve rather deeper down that particular rabbit hole than strictly necessary.

Finally, to answer questions about which specific version of DC's characters I am using: None and all of them, though I am probably most heavily influenced by the Justice League animated series, and the recent movies. I'm pretty much trying to mix-and-match backstories from a bunch of different sources to come up with something familiar, and yet still different.