Raucous birdsong woke Harry at what felt like the crack of dawn. Squinting blearily at the light filtering through the fabric of the tent, he considered a local Silencing Charm before deciding against it. With his muscles stiff and sore from yesterday's exertions, he didn't feel like moving an inch—and Tony, judging from his snores, didn't mind the incessant chirping in the least.

Ensconced warmly in his sleeping bag, he thought back to yesterday's ignominious rout. They had torn through the underbrush with little regard as to where they were going so long as the trees sheltered them from the pursuers. Tony kept yelling that they meant peace until he went hoarse, but after lightning split a nearby beech in half, even he had enough, and they Apparated a mile deeper into the forest. Even then, the wildly modulated cries continued to echo in the skies. He could almost hear them ringing in his ears still...

Bolting upright, he held his breath. As birds continued to twitter outside, he thought he might have been hearing things—but then a fragment of a cry drifted to his ears. It sounded both similar and different to those last night: unmistakably belonging to a harpy, yet more distressed than furious.

He shook Tony's shoulder. "Oi, get up. Do you hear that?"

The snores cut off as Tony grunted and cracked his eyes open. Met with Harry holding a finger to his lips, he froze.

"What?" he asked after half a minute had passed.

"Just listen!" Harry tilted his head, straining his ears—there, another faint scream in the distance.

"That's... that's the redhead from yesterday." Tony stayed still for a moment, then peeled himself out of his sleeping bag. "She must be in trouble!"

His eyebrows rose. "Since when can you tell their voices apart?"

Tony wasn't listening as he unzipped the tent and clambered out. Slipping into his shoes, he stood and craned his neck. Harry scooted towards the entrance, yawning.

Tony spared him a glance. "What are you doing? Get dressed and fetch me my robes!"

He stared. "Do you even know where to go?"

"Give me a minute," Tony said with an expression of deep concentration.

Rolling his eyes, Harry chucked Tony's robes over his head. Ignoring the ensuing shout, he got up, pulled on jeans and a shirt, and splashed his face with conjured water, snorting as some went up his nose.

"Reckon I've got it," Tony said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Come on, they might need our help!"

Robes draped over his shoulders, Tony strode off without a backwards glance. Harry considered the small glade—as good a place to leave the tent as any—then sighed and plunged into the dense undergrowth surrounding it. A low-hanging branch Tony had pushed forward smacked him across the nose, knocking his glasses askew.

"Bugger!"

"Shh," Tony hissed ahead of him.

Spitting out a leaf, Harry plodded on. To his relief, the thicket soon ended and walking became easier. Were it not for his sore feet and growling stomach, it might've been a pleasant stroll through the woods. He would still have preferred to fly like a civilized person, but they didn't have the time to repair the Firebolt.

A cry came, barely audible above their steps, and Tony whipped his head about like a scent hound before changing course. Harry hoped he knew where they were going—he wanted to investigate too, but wandering through the forest blindly didn't seem like the best way to go about it.

"Point me," he said, watching his wand spin on his palm before pointing north. It wasn't much, but he could at least make sure they weren't walking in circles.

Another quarter of an hour passed in relative silence, with the birds quieting down as the trees grew sparser. When the screams came again, they did so in quick succession, and Harry couldn't help the shiver that raced down his spine. The anguish in them transcended language.

"Slow down!" he called as Tony began racing ahead.

Tony's blue eyes were wide and shining as he swung around. "They sound so close!"

"They sound like someone being tortured." Harry looked him in the eye. "I could be wrong, but it won't hurt to be careful. We don't know what we're getting into."

Tony's flabbergasted look morphed into determination. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Disillusionment Charms all around, then?"

Harry released a relieved breath. "The cloak, rather—wouldn't want to lose sight of each other."

They draped the cloak over their heads and shuffled onward, kicking up brown pine needles. The foliage barely shaded them from the morning sun anymore, and after they ascended a hill, the forest gave way to verdant meadows that sloped down gently to a distant river valley. Harry stopped and shielded his eyes.

On a level swath of grass a few hundred yards ahead sprawled a camp. The flamboyant multi-storey tents along with the dark-robed folks milling about identified it as a wizarding operation. Most people clustered around two upright logs erected roughly in the center of the camp, their backs hiding whatever it was they were doing from sight. Pulling Tony along, he backpedaled to get a higher vantage point.

A heartrending cry echoed, and the dark-robes parted for an instant to reveal a winged woman tied to one of the poles, her head thrown back. Harry's fists clenched and he inadvertently stepped forward before catching himself.

"Bloody hell, they're using the Cruciatus! Who would—" Tony growled. "Oh, I see. The Moravetz again."

"How can you tell?"

The cloak shimmered as Tony raised his hand to point. "That's their crest over there."

Harry grimly regarded the Graphorn emblem on a large reinforced crate that looked like something used for transporting cattle. "They sure came out in force... Those sods at the pub must've been only scouts."

"Doesn't matter who they were," Tony said. "We have to rescue those poor girls."

Harry glanced at him dubiously, then looked the camp over. "There's at least twenty of them. You said it yourself, these guys are bad news. Unlike Aurors, they'll be cursing to kill."

A harrowing wail lingered in the air, tugging at Harry's conscience. He hung his head.

Tony shivered. "We have to rescue them. We have to. I wouldn't be surprised if they were only caught because they were out chasing us last night!"

"It's not that I disagree," he said carefully, "but going out in a blaze of glory won't help them."

"What do we do, then?" Tony asked, squaring up to him. "You're the expert in this kind of situation."

Only his beseeching tone stopped Harry from snapping back. "We could go back to Bratislava... I never Apparated that far, but at least one of us should make it. We turn ourselves in, try to smooth things over with the Aurors. It might"—he swallowed—"it might take a few hours, but we should be able to get them to come here and sort this lot out." Having experienced the Cruciatus Curse first-hand, it almost hurt to say it, but suicide by mafia didn't appeal to him either. It wasn't like he had the prophecy to protect him anymore.

Tony goggled. "How can you say that? These bastards won't hesitate to kill one to make the other speak—and even if they don't, you know what Cruciatus does to a person." His hand landed on Harry's shoulder. "Think of something better."

"That's a tall fucking order," Harry murmured, staring downslope. "Let's get a bit closer."

Charming their footsteps silent, he slung an arm over Tony's shoulders to keep him low and waddled toward a smattering of trees that encroached on the meadow. This brought them so close to the camp that he could make out the wands clutched by the guards at the perimeter. The captives remained mostly hidden, an occasional gap between the robed ranks revealing a glimpse of feathered wings.

He squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his wand. While he couldn't feel out magic with the same ease geniuses like Dumbledore were able to, he could at least detect Anti-Apparition—and with the broomstick out of commission, Apparition was their only way out of a sticky situation.

Odd... he couldn't feel a thing.

"Okay," he whispered, frowning. "I need some time. No speaking, no magic, just... stay put. I can't have you running ahead and tripping alarms."

His forceful exhalation drowned out Tony's reply as he shut his eyes again. The agitated thoughts clamoring for attention, the urge to do something, anything; his fear, his anger, even his compassion; he tamped it all down. His heartbeat slowed until it was no longer pounding in his ears. A worry that it was taking him too long niggled at him and was summarily ignored.

The rustling of the foliage and the indistinct voices of the mobsters dominated his senses. He plugged his ears. A crude way to go about it, but he was only an amateur at the craft. It wasn't yet enough—the sun was warm on his skin, and the breeze ruffled the cloak. Sinking deeper into Occlumentic trance, he disassociated from that too.

He was left, finally, with the esoteric perceptions that were normally drowned out by the ruckus of bodily sensations. The cloak clung to him in an icy film, and he marveled at how it flowed subtly with the slightest motion. The wand he was holding awkwardly between his fingers throbbed with suppressed power. The Silencing Charms were like thick woolen socks on his feet, and he could even discern the day-old echo of the Impervius on his robes, brushing against his skin like waterproof leather—

An agonized note intruded on his awareness, hitting him like a cold shower. Extending his wand, he cast his weakening perception toward the camp, as far as it would go, but perhaps because of his lapse of concentration, all he could feel was...

"Nothing," he whispered. He opened his eyes, then shielded them from the unbearably bright sun. "How long was I out?"

"Out?" Tony asked. "You just made funny faces for a minute."

Harry gaped—the last time he experimented, he had to meditate for half an hour before he could sense anything. Never mind, he could ponder his breakthrough later.

"There's nothing," he said in a stronger voice. "Forget Anti-Apparition, they haven't even put up any alarms."

Tony exhaled. "That's good for our chances, right?"

"In the sense that they're better than certain death now." Scrutinizing the camp with a naked eye gave him no further insight. Were the gangsters that confident no one would dare interfere? "The girls are tied to those poles. We won't be able to Apparate them out without cutting them loose."

"And that lot won't sit idly by and let us do it," Tony muttered.

"Right... so here's what we're going to do," Harry said, working out the last details of the plan—if something so reckless could be called such. "I'm going to pop to the other side of the camp and sneak closer, while you stay here and create a diversion. Something flashy—make 'em think a whole bloody army is attacking. Once they're distracted, I rush in, malletspace one chick, free the other, and Side-Along her out."

Tony didn't speak for several seconds. "Are you sure you can make it out in time?"

He shrugged. "Are you sure you're up for this? The second they catch on to what's happening, they'll block our escape routes—and I might be pretty good, but don't expect me to take on two dozen fighters."

Tony was silent for longer this time, and Harry could see the emotions warring on his face. The stalemate was broken by more screams below. "Let's do this. And not because of who the victims are, either. It's just... I can't walk away from this, you know?"

Nodding grimly, Harry aimed his wand skyward. "Cave Inimicum."

A slight change in pressure told him they were screened from outside view. He straightened up, and storing away the cloak, retrieved a set of black-and-red duelist's robes instead, thanking his lucky stars he brought them along. His tinkering had made them illegal in regulated matches, but in a real fight, he would take any advantage he could get.

He stuck his right arm through a tight sleeve, then tried to do the same with his left, swearing when the splint snagged on the fabric. Pulling his hand out, he cut through the bandages with a Diffindo before ripping them off. His fingers were a mosaic of purple and yellow, but when flexed, they only felt a little tender.

"When did you learn to mend bones?"

"I didn't." Harry shrugged at Tony's stare as he buttoned up the robes. "Maybe they weren't broken after all."

Tony eyed his bruises doubtfully but didn't comment.

Harry tapped himself on the head, and with a sensation of something gooey trickling down his back, the Disillusionment Charm settled over him. "Give me five minutes, then wreak havoc. And, you know... try not to die."

Tony cleared his throat. "After this is over—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence. You of all people should know better than to throw death flags." He scoped out a good location downslope of the camp: far enough for the mobsters to miss the crack of Apparition, yet close enough to keep them in sight. "Let's hit those cunts with all we've got." Taking a deep breath, he brought his destination to the forefront of his mind.

"Wait!" Tony's hand scrabbled blindly at his robes. "Over there!"

Stumbling, he steadied himself against a nearby tree and whipped his head around. His heart soared; several tiny figures hovered in the sky adjacent to the closest mountain peak, and more were appearing out of thin air.

A commotion broke out in the camp, and Harry looked over to find the mobsters clearing a large circle around their captives. Some shook their fists at the sky and hooted.

"So that's why they didn't have any wards up—they wanted to lure out the queen." He drew a shaky breath. "If we're lucky, the bastards will get zapped and we won't have to step in."

"Maybe we could step in a little," Tony said. "Just to show them we're the good guys."

Harry chuckled, clenching and unclenching his shaking hands; the relief at not having to go through with the suicide mission was making him lightheaded. "Let's see what happens. I don't fancy being electrocuted."

More harpies emerged every second, too many to accurately count. Once their numbers stopped growing, Harry reckoned there had to be close to a hundred. They formed a great gyre in the sky, flying round and round, wispy clouds developing above their tiny silhouettes.

Tony linked his fingers and stretched. "Might as well prepare, in case they need help."

"Good call," he said, watching a four-legged shape rise from the ground. A swish of Tony's wand, and it morphed into an Arctic wolf that proceeded to shake off the leftover dirt. Harry took a moment to admire the beast; had he attempted a transfiguration this extravagant, the wolf would probably have blades of grass for fur.

Leaving Tony to work, he looked up. The harpies danced, drifting ever closer to the encampment, an echo of their rhythmic chant reaching him on a gust of chilly wind. The cloud bank above had thickened enough to blot out the sun, and its center acquired a steely color.

Down on the ground, the mobsters spread out, weaving protections around themselves and huddling behind crates. This left the captives in plain sight, and Harry realized with a start that Tony had been right: one was Lenka, and the other the redhead who had come to her rescue last night. The former was tilting her head skyward, but the latter only hung limply from her bonds, blood trickling down her temple.

A lanky black-haired witch emerged from the largest tent carrying a vicious trident and approached the captives. Harry's breath caught, and he prepared to go in, caution be damned—but the witch merely stepped between the poles and jammed the butt of the weapon into the soil. He sagged into a crouch.

Thunder rumbled, and a mizzle began to fall. Glancing up, he saw the gyre spinning directly above the camp. He wondered why the bandits weren't using their hostages as living shields, but perhaps they didn't know how powerful the harpies' elemental magic was. It would be their last mistake.

The distant chant cut abruptly, and lightning arced down with a deafening crack. Blinking furiously, he stared at the encampment expecting carnage and destruction. His jaw dropped; the tents remained intact, and while a few people were rubbing their eyes, they appeared unscathed.

"What's going on?" Tony asked.

"I don't know," he said, turning around. "Did you see—"

A second thunderclap roared, and Harry flinched before scanning the camp again. His gaze was drawn to the trident the tall witch was holding with one hand. Its barbed tips glowed red, forming a haze of heated air above, then cooled to pale yellow before his eyes.

"Bloody thing neutralizes lightning," he said. "Where did they even get something like that?"

"Told you the Moravetz were a big deal," Tony said.

"We might need to lend a hand after all." Feeling a tug on his robes, he turned around. "What?"

Coming face-to-snout with an enormous white wolf, he jerked away. At least a dozen beasts sat on their haunches around a preoccupied Tony, and one was chewing on the invisible hem of Harry's robes. He flicked its nose, then yanked his hand back when it growled and snapped.

"Control your bloody menagerie, mate."

Tony finished transfiguring another before acknowledging him. "Sorry, the noise is making them antsy."

As if on cue, thunder resounded, making man and beast alike cower at its primordial power. Harry stuck his finger into his ear and wiggled. Through the ringing, he could make out the whining of Tony's wolves, the yells of the mobsters, and the angry voices of the harpies far above. Their chant faltered, then broke apart, and looking up, he saw dozens of winged figures swooping down like great birds of prey—although as they drew closer, they resembled nothing less than Amazonian warriors of legend. For a minute, he simply gawked.

A jet of ochre whizzed upward, making several harpies swerve aside. A dozen more followed, streaking through the sky like a light show. Still the harpies plummeted, deftly twirling out of the harm's way.

A tattooed woman was at the vanguard, her braided hair whipping about as she dived at breakneck speed. Mere meters above the ground, she unfurled her broad wings and arrested her fall. Her lips parted in a fierce cry that gained a corporeal presence, descending on the humans beneath in a compressed blast of wind.

Retaliation came in the form of two curses that impacted her from different directions, viciously twisting her body and sending her into freefall. Harry held his breath until her kin dived and seized her by the shoulders, but his relief was short-lived, for before his eyes, another harpy was clipped on the wing and came tumbling down onto the meadow.

More fliers descended to batter the camp with gusts of wind, crumpling the tents and scattering the gear, yet doing little damage to its inhabitants, who responded with a flurry of hexes. The incantations, the screeches, and the howling wind blended into a pandemonium that brought Harry's worst memories to the fore. The harpies' superior numbers were dwindling with every second, and he couldn't see this clash ending in any other way than their defeat.

The harpies seemed to come to the same conclusion, for after exchanging crestfallen cries, they retreated skyward, many carrying wounded. As they began gaining altitude, the witch with the trident approached a hostage to put her wand under her chin and yelled a threat.

"Tony," Harry said as the harpies rallied for another futile attack. "This is our cue."

"Thought you'd never ask."

He turned to find Tony extending his wand like a general's baton. With a chorus of yips, two dozen white wolves sprang to their feet and loped down the meadow. Even out in the open, the pack surmounted half the distance toward the camp before the first exclamations of alarm.

Several beasts fell to curses, but many made it through the barrage, lunging for the mobsters' throats and tearing at their shins. Harry hoped they would get the trident wielder, but she turned out to be quick on the draw, her wand a blur as she not only defended herself but also gored the wolves pinning down her cronies. She didn't have free rein for long, however, for the harpies swooped in and the chaotic melee resumed.

"I'm going in." Harry gave himself a once-over to make sure his Disillusionment was still functional. His heart was beating like mad, but he knew he wouldn't get a better opportunity.

"Roger," Tony said. "Be careful—"

He spun on his heel, and Tony's voice was swallowed by a void where space and time held no meaning. Bursting back into reality in the middle of the camp, he swiveled his head. The sounds of battle surged, and his skin itched with the magic unleashed in such a short time.

A wizard backtracked toward him, launching spell after spell at the sky; Harry jabbed his wand into his ribs, the rumpled robes concealing the crimson flash. He crept toward the nearer pole before the glinting trident caught his eye and he changed course, shoving a bandit in his way into a collapsed tent. The man swore and thrust his wand in Harry's direction, but a harpy pounced and bowled him over.

Leaping over their thrashing limbs, Harry found the trident within reach, its wielder standing with her back to it as she hurled curses at the fliers. He slapped his palm to the warm metal.

"Yoink," he mouthed silently.

The witch whirled around, her hooded eyes widening, and heaved a crescent of energy that shore off an inch of Harry's hair as he ducked.

"Pobehlica neviditeľný! Nenechajte ho uniknúť!" she yelled, twirling her wand in a complex gesture.

He scrambled away on his hands and knees, accidentally tripping a wizard who had rushed up at her shout. Grunting at the pain in his flank, he kicked the fallen man in the face, making him howl and clutch his nose, then crawled along the packed ground toward the first hostage.

With her neck, wings, and ankles tied to the pole, Lenka could only look on helplessly as the battle unfolded. Lunging, he grabbed her ankle; her lips parted, but her body vanished before she could make a sound.

Shouts rang out, and he rolled away on instinct, a curse impacting the ground where he'd been a second ago and showering him in soil. He swore, materializing his wand and firing back haphazardly as he dashed towards the second hostage. With the dirt sticking to his robes, his camouflage was ruined.

Something walloped him between the shoulder blades, driving the air out of his lungs and sending him stumbling toward the pole. He erected a Protego before practically collapsing atop the unconscious harpy. His wand shook badly as he aimed it at her bindings, and he struggled to draw breath. Somehow, he cut the rope around her neck without injuring her further, but that left two more, and his shield was already crumbling. Desperate, he tried to take her in too, then winced at the backlash.

An unseen curse sapped the strength from his legs. Dropping painfully to his knees, he fortuitously avoided a Bludgeoner that punched into the log above, pelting him and the nameless harpy with wood chips.

"Expulso," he wheezed, creating an explosion of dirt.

The barrage ceased momentarily, and he erected another shield before furiously rapping his wand on his nerveless thighs. The roar in his ears and the fear clenching his gut made it impossible to think clearly.

A solution came to him as his shield went down again. Deflecting a buzzing jet of yellow, he ducked behind the pole and materialized Lenka, who crumpled to the ground with a cry. Seizing her wrist with his left hand, he stored away his wand and groped around the log for her friend. Despite the deluge of spellfire, despite the enchantments on his robes barely stopping an Entrail-Expelling Curse, he couldn't help his lips curling up as he took her into his malletspace. Dragging Lenka along, he pivoted on his foot.

Reappearing in the stand of trees upslope, Harry stumbled in a pit left from Tony's transfiguration and fell on his back. Groaning, he tried to force air into his lungs. Lenka gasped and sputtered next to him, but he had no strength left to deal with her.

Tony's pale face loomed above, and his wand rapped the crown of Harry's head, undoing the Disillusionment. "Mate, you look like shit."

Clasping the proffered hand, Harry grunted as he was yanked to his feet. He wiped his damp forehead, then blinked when his fingers came away bloody. "I'll live. Let's get out of here... Our first campsite should be far enough."

Tony pivoted on his heel, then staggered with a grunt. "Anti-Apparition went up."

He tried not to think how close of a call it had been. "Into the forest, then. Help me carry her."

Lenka was flopping on the grass, her wings too feeble to take to the air, and her legs not supporting her weight. As they approached, she wriggled away, pulling herself with her hands.

Tony stooped over her. "Er, you alright?"

She craned her neck back, revealing a purple bruise across it, and spat. "Die!"

Tony sighed. "That's no way to—"

"I tell nothing! Kill me!" The swipe of her clawed hand fell short.

"Just knock her out and get it over with," Harry said, lifting his wand.

"No!" Tony stepped in between them. "She's so weak even a Stunner could seriously harm her."

"Then tie her up or something—there's no time!" He gestured toward where the bandits, having repelled the harpies, were spreading out of the camp.

"Just let me talk to her," Tony pleaded.

"I rip out your guts! I tear—" Lenka broke into a coughing fit, clutching her midsection.

"Calm down," Tony said, crouching beside her. "We have to run away now, alright? Let me help you up..."

Hugging her gently around the shoulders, he began lifting her. For a moment, she seemed to comply, but then she snarled and raked Tony's chest with her talons, making him jump back with a yelp.

"Enough." Shoving Tony aside, Harry stomped up to her and jabbed his wand under her chin. When she bared her teeth, he clamped his palm over her mouth and pushed her down. "Get it through your thick skull already! I risked my life to save you two, but if those goons catch us, they'll do worse to you than they already have. Do you understand?"

The wild look in Lenka's hazel eyes cleared as she looked—really looked—at him for the first time before slightly inclining her head. He removed his hand. She coughed softly, then licked her cracked lips.

"You... save my sister?"

"Got her right here." Materializing the second captive, he grimaced as her unconscious body dropped the last couple of inches to the grass. He laid the trident beside her, giving it a curious once-over. "Nicked this thing too, for all the good it did."

Lenka gasped and sidled closer, pushing her sister's braids off her face and leaning down to listen to her breathing. "She alive!"

"That's great, really," he said, glancing over his shoulder. The mobsters were ascending in a dispersed line. Some held their wands like dowsing rods, while others watched out for the harpies, who hovered just out of range. "But we need to get out of here."

Tony gave Harry an admonishing look before kneeling beside her. "She'll be fine." Under Lenka's wary gaze, he touched his wand to a scrape on her sister's scalp, causing it to heal up. "Best I can do is mend her bruises and hope she wakes up on her own, mind."

"I'll vanish her again, don't freak out," Harry said. "You'll have to walk, I'll give you a cloak that makes you invisible... Are you listening?"

Lenka gave no acknowledgment as she contemplated the trident. Her face set resolutely, and her gaze rose to the sky before she drew a shuddering breath and shrieked. Flabbergasted, Harry made to silence her, but the shriek quickly faded into a hoarse wail, then a cough.

"Are you out of your bloody mind?" he hissed, glancing downslope. "We run, now." Taking in the trident, he reached for the unconscious harpy.

Lenka's hand wrapped feebly around his wrist. "Please," she croaked. "Have to tell tribe... Without weapon, they sing again... My voice, I scream and scream... Please..."

Tony's eyes widened, and before Harry could say anything, he aimed his wand at Lenka's throat. "Episkey. Sonorus. Go on, give it a try."

She stared at him in surprise before nodding and inhaling deeply. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth and sang. Harry clamped his palms over his ears, but her voice penetrated his skull, changing in tone as it went on yet never diminishing in volume. Even after Lenka slumped back and he dared lower his hands, the piercing notes seemed to hang in the air.

A lilting answer came from above, and he saw the remaining harpies regroup just underneath the clouds. Down below, the bandits exchanged shouts before advancing toward Harry's little warded circle. He glanced back at the forest and sighed.

"Guess we're fighting the bloody mafia," he said, glowering at the two idiots.

"My—" Lenka clasped a hand over her mouth as her voice came out in a bellow, and Tony quickly canceled the Amplifying Charm. "My tribe call thunder again, but..." She quivered as her gaze swept over the gangsters converging on their position.

Standing up, Tony stepped in front of the two harpies. "Then we just need to hold out until then."

"Listen to you, trying to sound all cool," Harry said, ensconcing Lenka and her sister in a dome shield.

"Sorry, couldn't resist the opportunity to show off," Tony quipped. His face was pallid and his hand shook as he raised his beasts from the earth.

His scowl relaxed a little. "Been a while since I played the hero, I suppose."

As a third wolf joined the two already at Tony's sides, their hackles raised, Harry assumed a slightly sideways duelist's pose to present a smaller profile and felt out the ward boundary. Eight mobsters were yards away, while the rest were scattered across the slope between here and the ruined camp.

He swept his wand along the boundary, then back, layering Growth and Animation Charms over the grass until the writhing greenery rose to his knees. The foes drew inexorably closer, and he held his breath even knowing it wouldn't matter.

A mustached man crossed the boundary, his eyes widening as his wand vibrated in his hands. "Oni su—"

Harry's wand twitched, causing grassy tentacles to wrap around the man's limbs and drag him down. The dome of Cave Inimicum shimmered into visibility and disintegrated; the mobsters brandished their wands, and the wolves snarled and sprang forth.

He parried an acidic jet with the wandtip before screams rang out at the wolves' attack, granting him a second to animate two of the mobsters' robes so their collars constricted and their sleeves flapped violently. When they bumped into each other, his Sticking Charm glued them together, and they flailed and swore until green tendrils wrapped around their ankles and brought them down.

A wall of fire sped at him, and he recoiled from the heat, blindly flinging Stunners at the source. The flames abruptly died down, leaving scorched soil and groaning, smoking bodies in its wake. Harry nabbed them with a Paralysis Curse before leveling his wand at the rest.

A bowler-hatted man eviscerated the wolf that had latched onto him and trained his wand on Tony, his left arm dangling bloody in a torn sleeve. Harry's hex forced him to shield; a moment later his hat morphed into a lynx that clawed at his face, and as he screamed and staggered under its weight, another precise Paralysis Curse brought him down.

"Crucio!"

Harry's body knew what to do better than his mind did, flattening on the ground before the second syllable. He glimpsed a wolf leaping to intercept the curse and crumpling with a whimper. Pushing up, he saw a man with a broken nose taking aim at him again.

Thrusting his wand, he let loose a Blasting Curse. Broken-Nose parried, then responded in kind, and they began exchanging fire at an increasing pace, neither giving the other time to vocalize or work anything complex. The ground around them grew pockmarked and scorched, but neither gained the upper hand until Harry was blindsided by a Disarming Charm. He gaped as his wand sailed toward a chubby guy he'd overlooked in the heat of battle.

"Crucio!" Broken-Nose snarled.

Harry brought out the trident, keening as the crackling jet connected with its shaft sending pain coursing through his hand; he couldn't fathom why the bloke would torture him instead of murdering him like a professional, but he'd show him the error of his ways. Taking the trident back in, he materialized a wand at random. "Confringo!"

Both men froze momentarily, staring at the orange smoke escaping from the ornately carved wand. As Broken-Nose smirked and began another incantation, Harry tossed the wand in his general direction and retrieved another. Miraculously, the missile hit his forehead, making him flinch and allowing Harry to finish the spell.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Broken-Nose's limbs snapped to his sides and he toppled over. Harry groaned in relief; at least the simpler spells worked.

Then the wand was ripped out of his hand again.

"Oh, for—" Rounding on the chubster, he materialized all three of his remaining wands. "Levicorpus, Purpuramorbo, Furnunculus, fuck you, and fuck you again!"

Breathing heavily, he stared at the twitching mass of purple flesh with no small amount of satisfaction before summoning his trusty twelve inches of pine. As it spurted sparks in his palm, he looked around. Two mobsters had Tony in a pincer, forcing him on the back foot, and the main force was approaching fast.

He strode forward chaining hexes. The first bandit went down instantly, too absorbed in the fight, while the second managed to shield, his beady eyes darting between Harry and Tony. As Harry resumed his chain, Tony transfigured a quagmire beneath the bandit, causing him to sink to his waist with a yell ended by a string of hexes.

Harry ran up to Tony, summoning wands as he went. The second wave, numbering half again the first, was nearly upon them, the mobsters surrounding them in a tightening semicircle rather than rushing in haphazardly; perhaps seeing their comrades bite the dust had instilled some respect for his and Tony's skill.

He spared a glance for the harpies—Lenka was wringing her hands as she watched on from underneath the dome—then eyed Tony's disheveled form. "Alright?"

"Been better," Tony said, his gaze darting between the dozen cruel-faced foes. "How long, do you reckon?"

He tilted his head back, finding the harpies spiraling in a funnel beneath a dark cumulonimbus cloud. Moisture trickled down his forehead, and fragments of their chant carried to his ears. Given their diminished numbers, he wasn't sure their fury would come down in time.

"Go for it?" Tony whispered, trembling as the enemy drew ever closer.

"Not yet." Harry's sweaty fingers clenched around his wand. The mobsters were almost within the range where one good salvo would leave him and Tony no chance to defend. He met the hooded eyes of the witch in the middle, and coming to a snap decision, stepped forward. "Oi! We surrender!"

"We what?" Tony sputtered.

"Play along," Harry said out of the corner of his mouth. He waved his hands over his head. "This is all just a big misunderstanding! Can't we talk this out?"

Hope surged within him when she sneered and barked an order—but then a dozen wands lit with multicolored lights, and all hell broke loose.

A sideways swish of Harry's wand produced a filmy sheet that coruscated with impacts before shattering. His arm extended to strike, but he had to yank it back to parry an Organ-Liquefying Curse zooming for his midsection. A fusillade of increasingly nasty spells left him no window to counterattack, and he backpedaled as he frantically swatted what he could aside.

His focus sharpened as his Occlumency training kicked in, leaving no room for fear or second thoughts. The shouts, the sizzle of curses, and the rapid thumping of his pulse faded to the background. He moved with imperturbable efficiency, deflecting a Cutter, sidestepping a Killing Curse, then shielding from lower-level hexes.

A volley from all around tore through his shield, and he parried four curses he didn't recognize, twisting to receive a Skin-Melter with his non-dominant shoulder. The pain of it eating through the padding of his robes and into his flesh barely registered as he used the split-second gap to launch a purple ribbon into the thick of the attackers.

A cry came from his right, and out of the corner of his vision, he glimpsed Tony cradling a bloodied arm. He shielded him, giving him time to aim his wand at the ground before him and tug it upwards. A gargantuan bipedal figure erupted, the unceasing onslaught gouging its rough surface in sprays of dirt. In his furious concentration, Tony paid no heed to the curses whizzing past, and just as the ten-foot golem was fully shaped, he was clipped by one and keeled over.

Harry leapt to shelter behind the lifeless transfiguration, hearing Lenka scream as the spells he had dodged zipped toward her. His wand moved, hardening the mud and imbuing it with whatever protections he could afford before an Animation Charm sent the golem lumbering into the fray. It lost an arm to a shouted Bombarda before even making contact, but a mighty swipe of its other limb blew several hapless mobsters off their feet.

His wand blurred as he meted out curses with vicious generosity, but it wasn't long before the golem was reverted into a mound of dirt, and the tide of battle turned once more. Malicious magic hurtled from every direction, and with Tony out for the count, it took all he had just to survive.

Allowing cold reason to consume him, he contorted to evade a part of the volley, then levitated a fallen bandit into the line of fire. The man yowled in pain, but Harry didn't bat an eye, directing the impromptu shield to block more attacks.

Something slugged him in the ribs, lifting him off his feet and tossing him on the ground. He instinctively tried to shield, but his hand wouldn't budge; half of his robes had transformed into stone, the Hardening Charm he'd let through overcoming their enchantments at last.

Curling up to present a smaller target, he transferred his wand to his left hand and gasped out, "Protego."

Spells whistled past, impacting the shield or digging into the ground while he rapped his wand on his petrified sleeve. When his shield flickered out, he raised his head and met the gaze of the black-haired witch; her wand pointed directly at him.

"Fulminare!" she snarled.

He rolled aside, but the motion was cut short as his limbs seized up. The control of his body quickly returned to him, but his muscles were so shaky he struggled to hold his wand. Lying powerless on his side, he could only watch as the witch drew closer.

"W-wait," he rasped, pushing up with a trembling arm. "Let's make a deal."

Several mobsters jeered as their leader adjusted her aim. "Crucio!"

A blast of wind knocked Harry prone and blew the witch backwards, her curse veering so far off the mark it nearly hit one of her cronies. A glance back revealed Lenka, who teetered on her knees before collapsing.

Gritting his teeth, he crawled to Tony and dragged him toward the harpies. As he raised his trembling wand, he was promptly disarmed. Taunts rang out, and jinxes pelted them; Lenka threw herself over her unconscious sister, whimpering, while Harry could do little more than shield his face with his arms.

A harsh female voice cut through the jeers, and he lowered his arms. The leader stalked up to him, swatting her tousled hair away from her narrowed eyes. Dazed with adrenaline, he grasped at the shreds of his Occlumentic composure to no avail.

"You gave us too much trouble," she spat, taking aim. "Who're you working for?"

"Working?" His lip curled. "I'll have you know I'm financially independent."

"Crucio."

His world dissolved into pain as vile energies ravaged his body. He was dimly aware of his throat being torn apart by his screams. When the agony ceased an eternity later, the witch stood closer, her lips were stretched into a sneer, and her cronies were laughing.

"I won't ask again," she said.

"We came here to p-protect them." Seeing her disbelief, he laughed painfully. "People l-like you... will never understand beauty. Read my mind... I won't resist."

Her dark eyes bore into his before shifting to the harpies behind. "As much as I'd like to find out who sent you, we're on a tight schedule. If you won't talk, I'll settle for delivering your corpse to our necromancer."

"A challenge, then." He sniffed the air, then raised a trembling hand. "Let's see whose magic is stronger, shall we?"

The bandits laughed and shouted insults. The leader's expression hardened and she pointed her wand between his eyes. Harry licked his lips, tasting blood, and gave her a shit-eating grin.

"In the name of the Eternal Warlock"—he brought his hand down sharply—"get fucked."

Her mouth opened, but her voice caught as her eyes widened in horrified understanding. As she tilted her head back, the leaden clouds ignited, and a deafening fulmination struck not thirty yards behind, tossing her cronies like rag dolls.

Materializing a stolen wand, Harry Banished her backward in a tangle of limbs. Another bolt seared his retinas, followed by a third mere seconds later. Panicked screams reached his ears before the successive thunderclaps deadened them to the point where all he could hear was high-pitched ringing. There was no end to the harpies' fury, and the lightning was striking closer and closer.

"Aegis Tholus," he said, not hearing his own voice.

Flimsy as it was, the prismatic dome blocked the worst of the flashes and noise. He crouched over Tony; there were no major injuries visible, but with the curses that had been flying around, one could never tell.

"Episkey. Episkey. Rennervate. Come on, mate, speak to me."

Tony's eyes shot open and he gave Harry a frightened look before flipping over and dry-heaving. His hand scrabbled for his wand, and he aimed it at his stomach, his lips moving in an incantation Harry was unable to hear.

He leaned closer. "What did they get you with?"

"Vertigo Hex... bloody annoying... back in seventh year..."

Harry clapped him on the shoulder and moved on to Lenka, who was huddling beside her sister. He worked his jaw trying to get his hearing back without much success.

"Were you hurt?" he asked, watching her gaze flick toward him. As her lips moved soundlessly, he grimaced and tapped his ear.

She mimed wiping her forehead.

"Just exhausted—tired?"

She nodded weakly.

"Thanks for saving me back there."

Her lips quirked and her sharp features softened. As Harry smiled back, she suddenly stiffened up and pointed a clawed finger upward.

Glancing up, he recoiled from a rapidly approaching shadow, only recognizing it as a falling tree when it clanged off the dome and rolled down. Hairline cracks appeared across the opalescent surface—bloody foreign wand—but it held together.

Then lightning struck, and he was slammed into the ground by the shockwave as the shield gave out.

The stench of ozone stung his nostrils. Rolling onto his back, he glowered at the sky, where the harpies were maintaining their frenetic dance. Getting sent beyond the veil by friendly fire would be just embarrassing.

The trident emerged in his hands, and he stabbed its butt into the earth, leaning on the shaft for support. It wasn't a moment too soon, for millions of volts of electricity instantly streaked from the sky toward its prongs. Harry instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, but despite the proximity, he was unharmed.

He glanced at the artifact, thankful that it didn't require any arcane procedures to work its magic, then straightened up and shook his fist at the sky.

"Oi! That's enough!"

As if to spite him, another bolt struck, causing him to cower and hug the trident for dear life.

"I said enough, you dumb feathery broads!"

"Let... me," Lenka said.

Glancing back, he saw Tony helping her to her feet. She took a deep breath and cried out, her voice projecting farther than Harry's had any hope of doing, before waving her wings for balance and slumping down. Before his eyes, the gyre began breaking up as more and more winged figures ceased their dance and glided down.

Lowering his gaze, Harry got the first good look at the devastation they had wrought. Scorch marks lined the meadow, branching outward from where lightning had struck, and most of the surrounding trees were now little more than blackened stumps. The mobsters lay scattered, some wailing feebly as they scrabbled at the ground, others showing no signs of life.

He flicked the stolen wand to summon his own, releasing a ragged breath when it floated up whole and undamaged. Putting it to work, he extinguished an unconscious chap's smoldering hair, more because the smell curled his nose than out of mercy, then Stunned another who'd risen to all fours. No one seemed capable of fighting; even their leader was slumped over face-first.

Down in the camp, amid plumes of smoke, a black figure rummaged through the wreckage to emerge with a broomstick. Ascending unsteadily, the bandit took off toward the river below, but his flight didn't go unnoticed; several harpies broke off the main bevy and swooped after, ramming him off the broom. As the bandit plummeted in a flutter of robes, Harry grimaced and looked away. The rest of the harpies kept descending in a gentle spiral, which he hoped boded well for him and Tony.

Tony shoved him in the back. "Watch out!"

An angry orange jet whizzed past his ear, and he whirled around; the black-haired witch growled in frustration before scampering off with spryness that belied her battered form. He took aim.

"Incarcerous!"

Thin black ropes shot forth, and the fleeing witch cried out as they twined around her limbs, tripping her over and leaving her hogtied.

Tony shook his head, lowering his own wand. "Could've Stunned her, you pervert."

"It was the first thing that came to mind." He glanced at Lenka, who was peering at the bound witch with something akin to glee. "For the record, I didn't do that on purpose."

She frowned and opened her mouth, but the discussion on the quirks of magic had to be tabled, for her sister stirred and let out a moan. Lenka rushed to her side, helping her sit up. Upon seeing Harry and Tony, her eyes grew wide as saucers, and she scooted back with an incoherent yell. The men raised their hands to show they meant peace, while Lenka hugged her and crooned.

It was upon this scene that the harpies alighted, throwing their feet forward and braking with their wings. In no time at all, Harry and Tony were surrounded by winged women who peered at them with wariness and curiosity, filling the air with the rustling of feathers and quiet warbling. Every last one was naked as the day they were born, their tan skin and darker plumage creating a panoply of earth tones occasionally livened up by tattoos and colorful beads woven into their hair.

"Hi there," Tony said. No one responded, but he kept grinning like Christmas had come early, his gaze aimed rather lower than the harpies' eyes. "Hello. How do you do? Nice weather we're having."

"So..." Harry drawled. As much as he appreciated the view, the silence was becoming unnerving.

One harpy chirped and looked up, and he followed her gaze, shielding his eyes against the sun that peeked through the thinning clouds. A sole figure was descending toward them, her snowy feathers glinting, and her ample breasts bouncing in tune with her powerful wing beats.

"The queen," he murmured in recognition.

Tony whipped his head about, then set to dusting off his robes.

The queen's landing was heavier than that of her kin, but far from ungraceful. As she touched down a dozen steps away, the circle parted before her without a word. Where most harpies barely reached up to Harry's shoulders, she nearly matched him in height. Her frizzy hair was as white as her plumage, forming a small crest above her forehead.

She came closer, her amber eyes contemplating the men, the trident sticking out of the ground, and the two sisters nestling behind. Harry kept an eye on the harpies; despite their slight physiques, he had no doubt their talons were deadly up close. He glanced at Tony to make sure he was prepared should things go south, but he was gaping at the queen with awe. Harry's fingers tightened around his wand.

The queen bowed.

There were exclamations all around, but when she straightened to full stature, a hush fell over the tribe. Harry forced his gaze up to her high-cheekbone face.

"Thank you, strangers, for coming to our aid." She spoke fluently, albeit with a lilting accent. "But tell me, why did you risk your lives to save ours? Are you plunderers like the scum at our feet, seeking to deny your rivals their prize?"

"Perish the thought!" Tony said. "We only wanted to help. Your gorgeous smiles are the breast—I mean, best prize a man could ask for." The fact that most harpies were stony-faced didn't seem to faze him.

"That is... very noble of you." The queen inclined her head again. "We shall sing of your honorable deed to our children, so even after you and I are gone, the tribe will always assist your descendants should they need it."

"Blimey," Tony said, grinning like a lunatic. "Try and top this, Scamander."

Feathers rustled behind them as Lenka and her sister stood supported by their kin on each side.

"Sorry," Lenka said quietly, not meeting the men's eyes. "For... for not believe you, and... sorry." Her sister chirped and bowed, and she added, "My sister thanks for heal her."

"Tell her she's quite welcome." Tony leered at the redhead with such intensity that she squirmed. "Actually, do any of you need healing? I'm no Mediwizard, but I'll do what I can."

Harry sobered as he recalled the curses that had been hurtling through the skies. "Did you lose many of your people?"

The queen shook her head. "Nothing worse than broken bones. We have an agreement with the village healer, should they require her services."

He furrowed his brows. "They weren't aiming to kill, then."

She swiped her talons downward. "They thought to barter the life of my kin for my future offspring! Had I agreed to the trade, my sisters would have become nothing more than chattel paraded around for your kind's amusement." Exhaling slowly, she cast her gaze around the battlefield. The tied-up witch whimpered and struggled under her glare. "Yet look what their greed has wrought. Thanks to you, my tribe and my children are safe for the foreseeable future."

"The Moravetz must've really wanted your egg," Harry said, eyeing the fallen. "Does it truly grant eternal youth as they say?"

The queen spread her wings while several harpies cawed angrily.

"What the hell, man," Tony hissed.

Wincing, Harry raised his hands. "Just idle curiosity on my part."

The queen's penetrating gaze made him feel like a worm. "I do not know. My magic is potent, passed to me in an unbroken line since the days we reigned over the mountains of Pindus, as I shall pass it to my offspring—but it is not for humans to exploit. If you are truly a friend, you will not speak of such things again."

He bobbed his head. "Got it. Forgive me, er, for speaking out of turn."

The queen stared at him a while longer, then turned to address her tribe in their song-like tongue. The harpies scattered, some taking to the skies, others hopping around the field aided by brief flaps of their wings. Tony swiveled his head, then approached the redhead who'd stayed behind.

Well, at least his blunder hadn't devolved into a fight. Harry took a minute to put himself to rights, shrugging off his shredded robes with a pained grunt, and patching up his injuries to the best of his ability. His efforts left him no longer bleeding, if not entirely presentable.

He saw a harpy take off with the trident and didn't dare object. The rest bounded around the meadow, rummaging through the mobsters' pockets and collecting their belongings. He approached the queen, who was observing with grim satisfaction.

"What's to become of them?"

She gave him a feral smile. "We shall dump them at the foot of the mountain and give the hags a feast."

"Oh, no, no, no," Harry said as his stomach lurched. "That's just wrong. Many of them are still alive!"

Her eyes glinted dangerously. "Do you truly feel sympathy for the scum? It's no less than they deserve!"

"Sympathy or not, there won't be any feasting on human flesh—not if I can help it." He glanced over his shoulder. "Right, Tony?"

Tony seemed to only be listening with one ear as he tried to chat up the redhead. "What? Those fuckers can rot for all I care." He quailed when Harry wheeled around to glare. "Uh, I mean, sure. Chuck them into prison instead or whatever."

Harry turned back to the queen. "There you have it. If you won't concede, we're going to have problems." He held his wand loosely at his side, pointing down but ready to use.

"You threaten me when I have my entire tribe at my beck and call? For these brutes, who would kill you without a second thought?" The queen's amber eyes locked with his, and the wind from her wings ruffled his tattered clothes.

He stood his ground, staring back until his eyes watered.

She lowered her arms slowly. "So be it. I do not understand your decision, but I respect your strength and what you did for us."

She sang out a series of notes, making every harpy in the vicinity take notice. After exchanging curious looks, they divided into pairs and began clamping their taloned feet around the mobsters' shoulders and taking ponderously to the air.

Harry observed warily. "Where are they taking them?"

"The village," the queen said coldly. "Let your own kind deal with them if you so insist."

He watched their awkward flight take them over the treetops. The direction seemed right, at least. "We'll drop by, just to make sure everything's fine."

The queen let out an undignified snort. "Do as you please. We have business there ourselves." She broke eye contact to glare at Lenka, who was skulking nearby. "It's high time we concluded it; we've tarried far too long in the outside world if we attracted so many dirt-crawling lowlifes."