Disclaimer: This is a fan-fiction work. The events depicted herein did not happen and will not happen in real life. The Author of this work does not claim to own the Harry Potter Universe or the copyright of the same. Any character that appears in this work that may resemble a real person, living or dead, is not intended to represent such person, and any and all resemblance to such person is purely coincidental. Please note that some of the actions depicted in this work may be illegal and should not be imitated in real life.

KINGDOM OF RUINS

PROLOGUE

One hundred fifty kilometers east of Las Vegas

Former United States of America

The heat of the sun was something that was easily ignored by the men and women gathered on a relatively small flat zone by the side of a sand dune that seemingly rose out of nowhere. Just a few meters away from where they stood, two parallel rain tracks had been laid down, but because of the condition of the environment around them, it was almost impossible to tell when these tracks had been laid down.

What little indication that could be seen from the tracks, however, confirmed that it had seen a lot of use, and for most of the men and women who were standing on the flat zone by the sand dune, that conclusion is supported by the fact that, for the past five days, they had watched this particular segment of the tracks, noting that two dozen trains had used the track since that time.

There were two towns located along the tracks of the train, but most of the trains running through these tracks are most likely heading to the fortified city of Las Vegas, one of the larger cities on the United States West Coast following the War. More than ten million people live in a city that had sprung up in the dessert, a city that once made headlines as the sin city capital of not only the former United States, but also the rest of the world.

Today, Las Vegas still does have casinos, but only the richest of the rich – the sons and daughters of the executives and sub-executives of the corporations that had divided the world amongst themselves – can afford to waste money and time in those games of chance. Most of the inhabitants of the former sin city capital live at the mercy of those same people, and as the days turn to weeks and into months, more and more of them are turning to selling themselves to the richest of the rich just so that they could continue to survive.

Such a path is open to people who are actually allowed to live inside the fortified walls of the city, protected by automated and manned defenses that are powerful enough to be able to take out an entire herd of Ukrainian Ironbelly dragons, even if that particular species of dragons do not actually form herds as they prefer to live alone.

Some of the dragons that inhabit the desserts of North America, however – the North American Redhorn, the California Green, and the Saltwater Dragon – do form herds and could be dangerous when riled, especially when they are near human constructs full of people that the dragons consider as their food.

For those who are not allowed to live in cities, the option of selling themselves to the rich are not even available, though some of them do end up in that state, enslaved to the most powerful of people for a chance to survive. The only difference between those who are allowed to enter the cities and those who are not allowed would be the fact that those who are not allowed to enter the cities are capable of magic.

As that thought entered the forefront of the mind of Natalie Drummer, she fought the urge to sigh even as she found herself hugging the rifle that she had been carrying closer to her body. Unbidden, she began to think about the original owner of the rifle as she once more asked herself why her brother would have preferred to use it to hunt down game when he could have just used magic, but as she had learned to use it for herself, Natalie realized that the reason her brother had preferred to use the rifle was because it was more efficient, and it tend to attract less attention than even the most low-powered stunner.

The sound of a single bullet escaping from the barrel of a rifle was, after all, not something that wards could detect, while a stunner – or any like powered spell fired from the tip of a wand – would most likely cause a team of mage-hunters to descend at that particular spot within five or so minutes if the spell had been cast in a spot that was outside a known reservation.

Natalie herself came from one such reservation, though that was hardly surprising considering that all witches and wizards are now herded into such reservations. Life in the city for ordinary people is bad enough, but in the reservations, it was even worst, with constant failure of crops – even with the help of magic – translating to constant hunger, even while requests for assistance from the nearest cities and towns went unheeded as those cities and towns are forced to grapple with their own shortages.

'It was your fault that these shortages are happening in the first place,' Natalie could still remember the accusation from one of the people that had spoken with them the last time that they had tried to ask for help from a nearby town. It was not that the man who had uttered those words were accusing them of having cursed the land or had caused the milk of the cows to be spoiled moments after the cow had been milked, no, it was because the condition that the whole world was in at that moment could be squarely laid at the feet of one man, or rather, one megalomaniac that thought that he could be the lord of both the magical and non-magical world.

A sigh escaped from the lips of Natalie even as she found herself pulling her rifle closer toward her. Even as she did that, however, she looked around, noting the fifty or so men and women who are with her at that moment, all of them holding some sort of weapon even if she knew for a fact that all of them are magical like her. Like her, they are here because they are desperate, and just like her, they also all knew the reason why the world at large blames magicals like them for the state of the world.

It was hard to believe that it has nearly been fifty years since the secret veil that divided the magical world from the non-magical had been shattered. It had started with a simple civil war in Magical Britain, a war which was won by a man who had claimed that he had defeated death. The realm that he had won as a result of his victory in Scotland was not enough for him, for while he controlled the whole of Magical Britain, he wanted more, and in his lust for more, he doomed not only Magical Britain, but also the magical world, indeed, he may have also doomed the human race.

When the first nukes began to rain on Scotland five years after the declaration of open war between the magical and non-magical Britain, a hundred thousand lives had already been lost. Lord Voldemort and his followers had proven themselves highly resistant to death, but they proved to be incapable of standing up against twenty kiloton enhanced radiation warhead.

Nothing more was heard from the man who would be king of the world after that attack, but that does not mean that the world returned to normal, not when magic has been revealed to the world. There is also the problem of the nuclear fallout that accompanied the strike that finally took out the Dark Lord and his followers, because while those warheads are not as powerful as a 'conventional' nuclear weapon, it was still a nuclear weapon.

In a span of just five years, four hundred years of secrecy had been destroyed, rendered useless by the actions of one man, and even as the non-magical governments around the world rushed to contain their magicals, the other aspects of the magical world also began to leak.

Less than ten years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, humans found themselves at war with the goblins, and it was during this war that the corporations began to rise. By the end of the war ten years later, even the mightiest governments in the world are at the beck and call of these super-corporations. It did not take long before the super-corporations began to take over every aspect of life, starting with the administrations of the reservations where the magicals found themselves herded in.

At first, the reservations were a refuge for the magicals. Here was a place where they could be safe and protected from the anger – perhaps righteous anger – by the non-magicals, but it did not take long for the reservations to sprout walls – and though those are not actually physical walls, they are still there – that kept the magicals in.

'These days,' Natalie told herself, 'the only way out of these reservations is by 'volunteering' to become part of the corporations.'

Most of those who had volunteered never returned, and that was something that Natalie herself knew well considering that her own brother had not returned since the day that he had decided to join the corporation that had jurisdiction over the reservation where they lived.

Natalie knew that most of the witches and wizards who had joined the corporations ended up in the private armies of the corporations. Most of those would be sent to the frontlines of the war being fought between an alliance of the super-corporations and the last sovereign nations in the world that had dared to stand up against the new world order that the corporations are trying to impose.

News into the reservations in regards to this conflicts are few and far between, but some do trickle into the reservations, and that is the reason why Natalie believed that, if her brother was still alive, he is either in South-East Asia or in the Amazons. There are a few other corporate wars going on out there, but the corporation that has jurisdiction over the reservation where they came from are only involved in those two wars.

A select few – most likely, those who are of proven loyalty – are rotated back to the mainland so that they could join the local security teams, battling against magical creatures – dragons and remnant goblins mostly – and local resistance forces, one of which was the group that Natalie had joined recently.

Despite her best attempts, a sigh finally managed to escape from the lips of Natalie a few moments later. She did not think that there is anyone who would have blamed her for letting that sigh out, especially when one takes into consideration the fact that almost everyone else had their attention focused toward either end of the parallel train lines.

Having been one of those who had been tasked to monitor the train tracks in preparation for this raid, Natalie knew that one of those trains would be coming, and those trains would be full of supplies that they could use to feed themselves. It was just a matter of time.

No sooner had those thoughts entered the forefront of the mind of Natalie that one of those who had been watching – and this one had the aid of a pair of binoculars – shouted, "They're here!"

That announcement had the effect of making everyone turn their attention toward the direction indicated, and Natalie knew that she was not the only one who let out a sigh of relief upon the realization that the train was coming from the east, after all, if the train was heading toward the direction of the fortified city, then it must mean that it is full of supplies.

"Alright everyone," the leader of this band of resistance fighters – a man who goes by the name of 'Wolf', though it was almost certain that that is not his real name – made everyone turn their attention toward him with that simple sentence. By the time that Natalie had turned her attention toward him, she could see the beginnings of a smile on his face, though no one was actually able to comment on it before the man added, "Show time."

ONE

Train 72-A1, en route to Las Vegas,

Former United States of America

It was the sound of something exploding that brought the black-haired man back to a world of consciousness. At first, he did not want to open his eyes for he wanted to return to sleep. It seemed to him that he was far too tired despite the fact that he was just waking up, and his very bones sent signals to the forefront of his brain filled with complaints about how much of a hassle it would be to move from the position that they were in at that moment even if the young man would be the first to admit that he actually does not know what position he was in at that moment.

A mental sigh escaped from the lips of the young man as he felt his mind drift further and further down. A part of him told him that he would return to sleep within just a few seconds, but as if the fates themselves do not want him to return to whatever world it is that he had constructed in his dreams, a few moments later, there was another loud explosion, followed within a second or two by the sensation of gravity shifting.

That sensation was followed a few moments later by the sound of glass shattering, and within a second of the young man recognizing that sound, the forefront of his brain was bombarded with signals of pain that seemingly came from all over his body, overwhelming whatever sleepiness and laziness that he felt at that moment. There was a part of his brain that was easily able to realize that the reason why he was feeling pain all over his body was because he had been cut by shards of glass all over his body, but even as he opened his eyes, the sensation of pain began to disappear.

His bright green eyes began to send signals back to the forefront of his brain – now completely rid of the sensation of pain – as he tried to figure out where he was at that moment, but even as he racked his mind, Harry James Potter found himself unable to recognize the place that was in at that moment, and that prompted him to rack his brain in an attempt to remember what was the last thing that he could remember before he woke up and found himself here.

'I was at Hogwarts,' he thought, 'Hermione and I were headed to the Chamber to see if we could use the basilisk venom there to destroy one of the Horcrux.'

With that at the forefront of his mind, Harry once more looked around him, and it was only the fact that he knew that it would change nothing that prevented a frown from appearing on his face.

There was nothing about the place that he found himself in that reminded him of the Chamber of Secrets, indeed, there was nothing about this place that reminded him of Hogwarts. He was in some sort of room that was long but narrow, though it took him a few moments to conclude that he must be in some sort of shipping container that had turned over to its side given how odd the dimensions of the interior that he found himself in were, and how one of the walls appear to actually be the floor of the interior.

Harry turned his attention toward his back, and sure enough, when he did so, he could see the remnants of a container of sorts that had glass for its face, though at that moment, it was broken. It was not difficult for Harry to imagine that he was inside that container when he first regained consciousness, but even if that was the case, that realization did nothing to help the wizard remember how he got here in the first place.

As he was looking at the shattered container, the black-haired wizard remembered that he was supposed to have a hundred cuts on his body at that moment, which was why he turned his attention toward his right arm at the same time that he raised it up. His eyes widened when he saw that there were cuts there, but at the same time that he noted that he could not even feel the pain that was supposed to come from those injuries, those same cuts began to close themselves, much like how a simple healing charm would have, but Harry was quite certain that no one was casting healing charms on him at that moment.

He was quite alone inside this upturned container, though he is quite certain that there are others outside, and as if to provide him with further proof that that was actually the case, two explosions – in quick succession – went off near the exterior of the container that Harry was in, sending shockwaves that rattled the container and made it vibrate a bit, though Harry did not actually lose his balance.

'I have to get out of here,' the young man thought at the same time that he took a step forward. Pain shot up to the forefront of his brain as he realized that he had stepped on a broken shard of glass, but as with the other wounds on his body, the sensation quickly disappeared, and he would have laid odds that if he were to take a look at the soles of his feet at that moment, he would find that the wounds there are already closing.

The mystery of that, however, would have to wait, because at that moment, there was another mystery that Harry had to solve, one that was far more critical for him, and it was because it was only at that moment that Harry realized that he was actually naked. Rather than rush to cover his private parts, however, he instead turned his attention toward the direction of the pod from which he had escaped, and with a barely concealed curse, he found himself wondering exactly how many people have seen him while he was unconscious inside that pod, and exactly what position he was in when he was unconscious.

He could feel his magic as it struggled to escape from the tip of his fingers and without warning, he pointed his right index finger toward one of the drawers – that was actually bolted on the floor, which meant that, at that moment, it was at the side of the container – which caused that container to open itself, and almost instantly, clothes began to fly toward the direction of Harry.

There was another explosion that tore Harry from the reverie that he had fallen in at the same time that it served to remind the dark-haired wizard that he does not have all the time in the world at that moment. Sadly, Harry does not know any spell that would allow him to get dressed without him actually doing anything, but that was of minimal importance to the dark-haired wizard, because at that moment, the most important thing that Harry was worrying about was the fact that he does not have a wand.

He had already proven – at least to himself – that his magic was fine even without the use of a focus, but that only added to his confusion, because as far as he could remember, he was not actually that proficient in wand-less magic, never mind silent casting. It made him wonder where the hell he is again at that moment, at the same time that it made him wonder exactly how he got here, and what happened between the last thing that he could remember and the moment that he woke up here, because something told him at that moment that a considerable amount of time had actually passed between those two points in time.

No one was going to answer him inside this container, however, and of that, Harry was certain. Once he was sure that he was in acceptable clothing – though, privately, he told himself that the short-sleeved shirt, khaki pants, and white rubber shoes that he was wearing was hardly the get-up that one would expect a wizard to wear – he turned his attention toward the direction of one end of the container.

If his suspicions were correct and that he was in some sort of shipping container, then there should be entrances and exists on either end of this box. It was rather dark inside the container because only the light in the middle was turned on, and that resulted to light not reaching the ends, but the absence of light was not a problem for the wizard, especially since a few moments later, he muttered under his breath, "Lumos."

Usually, the light would manifest at the tip of the wand of the caster, but since Harry did not have a wand at that moment, the light that his spell had made simply floated in front of him, though Harry was able to command it to float toward one end of the container, and sure enough, when that part of the container was lit up, the dark-haired wizard could see that there was some sort of latch there that would open the door.

There were many things that were going through the mind of Harry as he made his way toward the container, not the least of which were the explosions – two more rocked the container while Harry was walking toward the exit – that were happening everywhere, but all of the things that Harry was worrying about disappeared the moment that he opened the door – with magic, of course – that was in front of him.

The heat of the sun and the lack of humidity in the air was not something that Harry had experienced before, though he had read about it. The beaming sun and the dry air was the only thing that he needed to experience in order to realize that he was actually in the middle of a dessert, and because he knew for a fact that there are no desserts in the British Isles, he was easily able to conclude that he is not in the isles where he was born, and that, in turn, made him even more curious as to what had happened in between the last memories that he had and waking up here.

As he was already outside the container that he regained consciousness in, he was able to confirm that he was indeed inside some sort of container, though the fact that it was resting on a train-bed was something that Harry was only able to imagine the moment that he actually saw that the container was resting beside an overturned train-bed. In front of the train-bed where his container had been resting, there were other train carriages, though they were far more sleek and modern looking than the carriages of the Hogwarts express.

Even more explosions tore Harry out of the reverie that he had fallen in, and it forced him to return to the present even as he espied smoke coming from the direction of the front of the train. In just a span of two seconds, the dark-haired wizard asked himself if he should head toward that direction, and the answer that he had received was in the affirmative, though he had barely taken a single step toward that direction when he heard a voice behind him.

"You!" the voice said, forcing Harry to pause and as he turned his attention toward his back, the person continued, "Stop right there!"

By the time that Harry had turned his attention toward that direction, he could see that the person who had called for his attention was not alone. There were two other persons who were with him, and all three of them were dressed in dark clothes that Harry associated with muggle armor. Indeed, emblazoned across the chest part of the clothes that they were wearing was the word 'SECURITY', but what really made Harry realize that they are supposed to be guarding this train was the fact that when he turned his attention toward them, all three of them had weapons pointed toward him.

"Gentlemen," Harry said even as he raised his hand. He had expected that the three of them would lower their weapons once they saw that he had raised his hands – after all, he knew that they would believe that he is no longer a threat to them – but they did not do that, instead, they kept their rifles pointed toward the direction of Harry, causing his eyebrows to go up in surprise.

He tried one last time to defuse the situation, however, as he said, "I am not a threat to you."

That got a response from one of the men, though if he was being honest, Harry would have to admit that it was not the response that he was expecting, "A likely story, witch," the man said.

Once more, the eyebrows of Harry raised up, though this time, it was because he was surprised that the man knew that he is magical. It was obvious that that was the case, however, because if it was not, then the man would not have called him by that term. It also told the dark-haired wizard, however, that no matter what he would say, these three would not lower their weapons, even as a voice inside his mind assured him that he could take all three of these security people at the same time.

Harry allowed his magic to flow out of his body, but before they could actually reach out to envelop the three men, the ground upon which Harry and the three of them were standing began to shake.

'Jump!' a voice at the back of the mind of Harry urged him, and before he could stop himself, the man who was once labeled as the boy-who-lived threw himself to the side. With the aid of magic, he was able to throw himself a considerable distance to the side, but it was still just barely enough to stop his body from sliding into a pit that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

The three men that confronted Harry were nowhere near as luck as him, and by the time that Harry turned his attention toward where the three of them were supposed to be, there was nothing. Indeed, even the container and the train-bed where the container had been was not there anymore.

"Flobberworm!" someone shouted, causing Harry to turn his attention toward the direction where he heard the shout came from. His first reaction was to shout that there was no way that a flobberworm could do what had just happened, but before he could do that, Harry was forced to return his attention toward the hole just in time to see a giant worm shoot up from the hole.

Rockets fired from the ground and seemingly from all directions greeted the creature, and though all of his education told him that it was impossible, when Harry looked at the creature, he was forced to conclude that it was indeed a flobberworm, albeit one that is more than ten times its usual size.

Huge chunks of the body of the creature detached itself from the main as the rockets exploded all around the huge beast. It actually emitted a loud shriek even as it fell forward, its huge body crashing against rear of one of the train carriages.

That caused Harry to turn his attention toward that direction, and he had to fight the urge to vomit there and then when he saw red blood under the body of the creature. That was the only thing that Harry needed to see in order to realize that the creature had crushed a few people under its enormous body when it fell on the carriage.

Screams erupted from the direction of the interior of the carriage, and before Harry could stop himself, he was already making his way toward the same. His eyes widened in surprise a few moments later when he saw that the carriage was actually full of people, but they could not move from where they are seated at that moment, because all of them were restrained on their seats.

'What the hell?' he found himself asking if this was some sort of prisoner train, but then concluded that that was not actually the case because a lot of those who are restrained here appear to be children, and when Harry unconsciously closed his eyes a few moments later, he realized that every single person in here was magical.

They all looked at him with curious – and some even have fear – expressions on their faces, but it took them less than a second before they began to scream again, with most of them begging for a chance to save themselves from what was happening at that moment.

Harry would be the first to admit that he has no idea what is going on at that moment, but there was no way that he was going to leave these many people helpless. Even if they are prisoners, they deserve the chance to be able to save themselves, and besides, the last time Harry was dealing with a government, that government was under the control of his enemy.

"I'll get you out of here," he told them even if he does not actually know how he is supposed to do that. It took him less than five seconds, however, to come up with an answer to his predicament, and as his magic flowed through his fingertips from somewhere in his body, the metal shackles that kept the people inside the train began to disengage with loud clanking sounds.

The witches and wizards who found themselves free instantly got up on their feet and began to scatter in almost all directions, but even if Harry wanted to stop them, he could not have done so because some of the prisoners are still restrained on their seats.

Gunfire – seemingly coming from outside the very carriage that he was now on – nearly caused Harry to turn his attention toward the direction where the sound was coming from, but he stopped himself from doing so as he needed to concentrate on freeing everyone who was in this particular carriage.

By the time that he was finished doing that, five minutes had actually passed, and he had ignored an indeterminate number of explosions – though it was probably more than a dozen – as well as gunfire coming from outside the carriage. As he had expected, when he returned his attention toward the direction of the interior of the carriage, it was already empty, with most of the former prisoners having escaped, but there was actually one person who was still inside the carriage.

His curiosity got the better of Harry, and before he could stop himself, he was already walking toward the last remaining occupant of the carriage. As he walked closer, he realized that she was a witch, though she looked far older than any witch Harry had ever seen before. There was also something rather familiar about her, though at that moment, he could not quite put a finger to it.

Harry was also familiar with the witch, and that was something that Harry realized easily enough, because as he walked closer toward her, whatever it was that he wanted to say to her was cut off by the old witch speaking, "I am not sure if I should curse or be thankful seeing you here, Potter," she said.

The familiarity that Harry felt for this witch was made even more poignant with the way that she referred to him, though he would admit that he still cannot place her in his memories. It was evident that she realized that that was the case, because she decided to cut him some slack a few moments later, "I'm not surprised that you cannot recognize me," she said with a smirk on her face that seemed to be out of place, given that she was restrained on that seat but a few moments ago, but before Harry could comment on that, she continued, "A long time has passed since the last time that we saw each other, nearly fifty years."

Harry blinked and was about to tell her that that was impossible as he was only seventeen years old, but again, before he could comment, the witch introduced herself, "Pansy Parkinson, at your service."

He felt his eyes widened, and now that he knew her name, Harry would have to admit that this old witch in front of her certainly does look a lot like Pansy, albeit a Pansy that had aged considerably. Still, there was no way that Harry was just going to accept that, and he shook his head a few moments later even as he said, "No, that is not possible."

She actually laughed at him, "And here we were, wondering what had happened that made you run during the Battle of Hogwarts," she said. The mirth and amusement that was reflected on her face and her eyes disappeared a few moments later, but before Harry could ask her what she was talking about, Pansy continued, "You didn't run away, didn't you, Potter? No, that is not you."

Harry found herself staring at the eyes of one of his worst childhood tormentors even as she stared back at him. The dark-haired wizard found himself staring upon eyes that had seen hardship, but that confused Harry even more, because if what this Pansy was saying was true, then Tom Riddle would have won the Battle of Hogwarts, and that meant that Pansy and her faction should have been the winners. Finding her in a prison carriage full of other magicals was out of place.

She seemed to be able to understand what he was thinking about, and a sound from her made Harry come out of the reverie that he had fallen in and back to the present, "Oh, we won alright, the Dark Lord won, and it was glorious," she said. The expression on her face told Harry that she was reminiscing, but it was soon replaced by that same haunted look that Harry had seen earlier before, "at least, for the first two years, it was."

"We got greedy," the old witch in front of Harry continued, "and our Lord wanted more than just the magical world, he wanted the muggle world as well."

Harry fought the urge to curse even as he told himself that there was no need for Pansy to continue with that part of the story anymore, because Harry could already guess what had happened, after all, there was no way that the muggles would have allowed Tom to become their ruler. The fact that Pansy and a lot of other magicals are prisoners here meant that the muggles had decided to crack-down on the magical world.

There was now something else that was far more important to Harry, and he hoped that Pansy would be able to provide him with an answer to that concern of his, "Fifty years?" he asked her.

The old witch began to laugh, and it was crazed enough that Harry actually found himself wondering if Pansy was still all there. He had no choice, however, but to continue to speak with her, not only because she was forthcoming with answers, but also because of the fact that she was the only one who was left inside the train at that moment.

She turned her full attention toward him even as she said, "The Second Blood War, the Muggle Wars, the Goblin Wars, the Rise of the Super-corporations," she paused even as the smile that she was wearing on her face widened, and for the first time since the two of them had began to speak, Harry noticed that she was missing a few of her teeth, but before he could comment on that, she added, "You missed all of that, Potter."

Harry would have to admit that, aside from the last one, he could already guess what those others are, but he would still need to be able to confirm a few things with Pansy.

The sound of gunfire from outside the carriage turned louder and that was the only thing that Harry needed to hear in order to know that whoever it was who was shooting, they were coming nearer. He turned his full attention toward the direction of Pansy even as he began to remove the leather strap – that one was not removed by his spell, though it was something that Pansy herself could have removed, and the other prisoners had removed it themselves after Harry had gotten rid of the mental shackles – but because he had turned his complete attention toward her, he failed to see the fire-team of four security personnel making their way into the carriage.

"Hey!" one of the security men shouted, forcing Harry to turn his attention toward that direction, "What do you think are you doing?"

By the time that Harry had turned his full attention toward the direction of the security personnel, the man who had been screaming had already finished shouting, but he did not actually wait for Harry to answer the question that he had asked before he pulled the trigger of the firearm that he was carrying, spraying more than a dozen bullets toward the direction of Harry and Pansy.

Harry was able to defend himself against the incoming bullets as a barrier – that he did not summon – suddenly surrounded him. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of Pansy, and as more than a dozen bullets pierced her body, she let out a dying scream that even Harry was not sure if he should label as a scream of pain or a scream of amusement.

It was over within five seconds, and though Harry spent a full two seconds just staring at the remnants of what used to be his classmate, he was able to turn his attention toward the direction of the people who had just killed her. Even if all four of them were wearing masks that covered their faces, Harry could see that all four of them were confused, and as Harry began to gather his magic about him, he could tell that the confused look on the faces of those four men were being rapidly replaced by one of fear.

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