Jul 14
When the
Roses Bloom
Again -
Closing the
Corridor Having spent as many evenings as she had in the den of
debauchery that was the bar in Berlin, Eleanor had learned
much of how the wizarding underworld worked, though it
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certainly helped the perpetrators that Grindelwald
seemingly had no care for what happened within these
walls.
She had almost become desensitised to what occurred on a
nightly basis; the violent deaths, the smell of evacuated
bowels, and the pained screams that the crowd seemed to
love.
Eleanor would never become one of them, but she had
adapted, all in the pursuit of finally uncovering the truth of
who Weber was.
On that front, she had been mostly unsuccessful.
The man was little more than a shadow that loomed over
his empire, careful not to out himself to his patrons or even
those that worked for him, but the one that benefitted from
the suffering and misery here, and undoubtedly other
establishments Eleanor knew nothing of.
What she had learned was that Weber was as cunning as he
was elusive, never allowing himself to be directly connected
to anything that transpired under his direction.
She had hoped that the bald man that oversaw this
particular venture would be able to lead her to him, but that
hope had been dashed quite quickly. Much like the illegal
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duelling, those that oversaw never met Weber directly, only
corresponding through letters.
At the end of each night, the gold would be taken to a
nearby branch of Gringotts where it would be deposited
into an account held under a fake name, and though
Eleanor had tried to carry out a robbery using her typical
means, it wasn't to be.
Evidently, the goblins had learned from their mistakes, and
Gringotts had secured themselves against such a thing.
As much as she had learned about how the operation
worked, Eleanor had little to show for her efforts and had
already considered what options she now had.
She had thought at first that she would attempt to begin
following Gaulitier, who had frequented the bar on a
number of occasions, but given the man's reputation, she
thought better of it.
Evans had urged caution where The Beast of Berlin was
concerned, and Eleanor did not wish to push her luck.
She could simply continue as she was, but to her, it would
only prove to be more time wasted.
There was little else she could glean from her observations,
and it was unlikely that she would learn anything else of
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value.
No, she needed to present her findings to Evans and allow
the man to make a decision on what he would do.
She would continue to help him in any way she could, but
in her current position, she had done all that could be
expected of her.
Short of attempting to ingratiate herself with the men here,
there was nothing else for it.
Once this final evening had come to an end, she would
send him a message, and was hopeful that he would know
what to do next.
(Break)
Charlus watched as Harry's eyes trailed across the map and
waited for the man to make a decision. He would need to
be certain of their next move before committing, and Harry
wouldn't do so until he had meticulously planned each
option.
It had been a little over three months since he'd returned
from his last trip to Britain, and in around six weeks, he
would be welcoming his first child into the world.
Still, Harry had remained with the men, relying only on
letters from Minerva to keep him abreast with news of the
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pregnancy and how she was coping.
How his friend had been so dedicated to the war, Charlus
would never know, but here he was, continuing to push
them on towards a victory the men of the ICW finally
began to believe was possible.
"What are you thinking, Harry?" Yaxley asked.
Harry held up a hand for silence, his focus unwavering
from the task at hand.
He had been this way since he'd returned from Britain;
focused, relentless, and almost a man possessed when it
came to removing Grindelwald's influence from across the
continent.
As such, the men had been granted little respite.
For weeks now they had swept across the length and
breadth of the Ukraine, liberating city after city they came
to before moving on to the next.
Charlus had lost count of how many of Grindelwald's men
they had slaughtered, or how many more had fled, but
what became clear from Yaxley and Gilbert's report on Kyiv
was that those of the latter had not left the country.
No, they had converged on the capitol where they would
evidently make their last stand against them.
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"You're sure there are around a thousand?" Harry
questioned the two men.
"Give or take," Yaxley answered.
Harry nodded his understanding, scratching at his beard as
he continued to ponder their approach.
The ICW forces numbered considerably more than one
thousand and was growing with the Ukrainians that were
swelling their numbers who wished to fight for their
homeland.
Despite this, Grindelwald's own were growing too, the man
seemingly as busy as he had always been in his efforts to
recruit more followers.
Still, an advantage of numbers here meant little when the
enemy held the final bastion of Grindelwald's forces in the
region.
According to the natives, the magical district of Kyiv was a
perfectly defensible position and would not be easily taken,
with some claiming that it would be impossible.
Were it not for Harry's knack of making what people
believed to be impossible happen, Charlus would perhaps
doubt their success, but he had learned long ago to never
bet against his friend.
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"How long until Petr gets here?" Arcturus questioned.
"He is coming from the east as we speak," Harry explained,
tracing a line from near the Russian border to their position
south of Kyiv on the map. "He should arrive in a couple of
days."
The Russians had been invaluable here, Petr seemingly as
determined as Harry to relieve the people here of
Grindelwald's hold.
Between him and Harry, they had smashed their way
through the defences in their way to bring them to where
they found themselves now.
"We cannot attack so openly," Harry murmured, frowning
at the map. "We will be slaughtered before we can position
ourselves. No, there must be another way."
Charlus too gazed at the parchment, looking for any route
they could use to access the magical district, but there
didn't seem to be any.
"I have an idea," Harry declared, "but it's risky."
"It's always risky," Gilbert snorted. "What's the plan?"
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
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"I'm not completely certain it will work. I will need to scout
it first."
"Come on then, Reg," Gilbert sighed dramatically.
"No," Harry interrupted as the men began preparing
themselves. "I'll take this one. Rest, you've both earned it."
Gilbert and Yaxley nodded gratefully.
For the past week they had been away from the camp,
doing their utmost to find a way into the city and get an
idea of the force they faced.
Somehow, they had managed it, but the way in was not a
viable option for all of them.
"All of you rest," Harry urged. "Charlus, you'll be in charge
until I get back or Petr does."
"What're you thinking, Harry?" Charlus asked as the rest
of the men went about their own business.
"You'll know soon enough," Harry assured him as he began
packing a few things to take.
He wasn't purposely being secretive, but with the new men
amongst them and their past experiences of having been
spied on, they could not afford to take chances.
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"Have you heard from Minerva?"
Harry smiled as he nodded.
"She's doing as well as can be expected," he murmured.
"Perenelle is visiting her almost daily, and her mother is
with her most of the time she's away from the castle."
"Not long now," Charlus reminded him.
"No," Harry muttered, "and I'll likely still be here."
Charlus squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.
He had no woman at home on the verge of birthing his
children, but Arcturus did, receiving the news of his wife's
pregnancy shortly after Harry returned.
The two men had bonded over their impending
fatherhood, something that most back home would never
believe with the traditional Black view of those that were
not purebloods.
It amused Charlus to no end to hear of the duo voicing
their thoughts on parenting, discussing potential names,
and even their fears.
"But your child will be safe and waiting for you when you
go home."
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"If I make it back," Harry sighed. "There a no promises
during war, Charlus. As much as I wish there could be,
there is no guarantee I will even meet them."
"Don't say that!" Charlus snapped angrily. "You will make it
through this. I won't let you die out here."
Harry released a deep breath and smiled gratefully.
"Sorry, it's hard to stay positive sometimes with how much
there is left to do."
"I know," Charlus sympathised, "but we will get there. We
haven't fought so hard for so long to lose. Grindelwald is
running scared, and it is only a matter of time before he has
to try to come for us again."
Harry shook his head.
"No, it is only a matter of time before he withdraws his
forces to one place and hopes to crush us as we try to take it
from him," he corrected. "Once the Ukraine falls, we can
sweep back across the continent, but backing him into a
corner will only make him more desperate and dangerous.
The journey back will be harder than what we've faced
here, he will make sure of it."
Charlus nodded his agreement.
"But we will keep fighting."
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"We will keep fighting," Harry assured him.
(Break)
Minerva couldn't be certain of the exact moment when
walking had become what she referred to as her 'pregnancy
waddle.' Regardless, she found that she didn't care for it
much with how difficult it made making her way around
the castle, or getting in and out of bed, or anything else for
that matter.
Her mother and Perenelle would say that she had
blossomed, but Minerva would disagree.
She had ballooned.
When she had reached her third trimester, it was as though
the baby had decided that she needed constant reminders
of its presence, and when it wasn't kicking her, it pushed
against her bladder meaning she spent more time than
she'd like emptying it.
Still, the morning sickness had finally abated, but her
cravings for treacle tart had not.
Not a day went by where Minerva did not indulge in
Harry's choice of dessert, something the house-elves of
Hogwarts were happy to provide.
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When she went home for the weekend, Kora, the elf that
Harry had secured for them, would do the same.
Minerva had been against the idea at first, but with how
large the house was, and how vast the grounds were, the
Kora was an invaluable asset to have around.
"And how are we both today?" Rosalina's voice broke in as
she entered the transfiguration classroom, immediately
placing her hands on Minerva's stomach.
She had held off from telling the rest of the staff for as long
as she could, but she couldn't keep it from them forever,
and as such, the entirety of the castle had known for weeks
now that she was expecting a baby.
Most had taken it in their stride, offered their
congratulations and life had continued.
Rosalina, however, much to Minerva's surprise, had taken
to visiting her here every morning, and escorting her
around the castle whenever she left the classroom.
She doted on her almost as much as her own mother did,
and Minerva saw a side to the Defence Against the Dark
Arts professor that she never would have believed existed.
"Did you never want children?" she had asked curiously
during one of Rosalina's visits.
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"No, I would be a terrible mother," the woman sighed. "I'm far
too self ish."
Minerva didn't believe that for one moment, but she didn't
comment any further and allowed Rosalina to do as she had
been. She enjoyed the woman's company, after all.
"You must have been tempted to kill Harry," Minerva
replied.
Rosalina snorted.
"More times than I can count. The little one will be here
soon enough though."
Minerva nodded.
Soon couldn't come soon enough.
"Shouldn't we be getting you home?" Rosalina asked.
"Aye," Minerva replied tiredly. "I managed to finish the
nursery last night. Would you like to see it?"
Rosalina's eyes widened and she nodded excitedly, the same
way she did whenever anything about the baby was
mentioned.
It was understandable.
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Harry and Rosalina had grown close over the years,
something akin to a sibling relationship having developed
between the two.
Minerva wouldn't consider it a mother/son bond, and
Rosalina would likely curse her if she suggested such.
No, they bickered far too much, but Rosalina had helped
Harry more than most and he cared deeply for her.
"What colour did you choose in the end?"
"I decided to keep it neutral," Minerva answered as
Rosalina helped her to her feet.
Rosalina huffed.
"I don't know why you don't want to know what it is."
Minerva had discussed it with Harry, and they had decided
they'd like to keep it as a surprise.
"Just give me a moment and I'll let you through."
Rosalina nodded her understanding.
She had yet to visit the house but knew that the protections
around it were quite extensive. She'd expect nothing less of
her former apprentice.
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Minerva threw a handful of floo powder into the fire before
stepping into the emerald flames, shuddering as she always
did when the magic washed over her.
She wouldn't pretend to understand what Harry had done,
but she felt safe here.
Drawing her wand, she muttered a few incantations under
her breath before extracting a drop of blood and placing it
in the fire. After only a brief delay, the flames turned red,
and she reached out her hand to pull Rosalina into the
living area that Kora had decorated.
"Merlin, it feels horrible in here," Rosalina commented,
relaxing only when Minerva gestured for the poised
serpents that rose from the flames to stand down.
It took a little time for Rosalina to adjust to the magic, but
she eventually breathed a sigh of relief.
"What would happen if someone tried to attack you?" she
asked curiously.
Minerva shook her head.
"I have no idea," she answered honestly, "but Harry said
they wouldn't even draw their wand before they were dead."
Rosalina grinned approvingly as she looked around the
room appreciatively.
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"I'm still getting used to all this space," Minerva admitted.
"I don't think we'll ever use it all."
"No, but it is nice to have it," Rosalina replied. "Now,
where is the nursery?"
Minerva snorted amusedly at the excitement of the other
woman before leading her towards the staircase through the
entrance hall where Kora was perusing a catalogue and
experimenting with different rugs for the wooden floor.
"Hello, Mistress Minnie," the elf greeted her with a curtsey.
Minerva offered the little creature a smile, Kora's plain
white apron as immaculate as ever, complimenting her
light, pink skin.
"How are you today, Kora?" she asked.
The elf nodded happily.
"Kora is fine," she answered with a beaming smile. "There
is still much work to be done, and even more when little
master or mistress comes along."
The elf was perhaps the most excited about welcoming the
baby, even more so than Minerva and Harry.
"Then I will let you get on," Minerva declared. "Remember
to rest."
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Kora simply nodded before turning her attention back to
the catalogue, and Minerva led Rosalina to the nursery.
The woman gasped as she entered the room.
Minerva had worked hard charming the floating lights and
adding the decorative touches in the form of a mobiles that
hung over the cot and Moses basket, to the mural on the
wall depicting an array of magical creatures that Kora had
helped her with.
"A snake?" Rosalina chuckled as she picked up the stuffed
toy.
Minerva shrugged.
There was a strong chance the babe would be a
parselmouth, so she wanted them to be used to the
creatures from the very beginning.
"It is wonderful," Rosalina declared as she walked around
the room, taking in every detail. "Harry will love this."
"I hope so," Minerva sighed.
He hadn't seen it yet, nor any other part of the house for
that matter since some of the décor had been changed.
There were still many rooms that Minerva had not even
been in again since they'd viewed the house, but she had
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asked Kora to leave the basement.
Minerva had no doubt that Harry had plans for the space,
and she didn't wish to deprive him of them, not unless it
would burn the house down.
That was unfortunately a possibility with him.
"Thank you for showing me this," Rosalina said gratefully
when she'd finished her inspection. "You really will be a
wonderful mother."
Minerva smiled.
She was still not used to the idea but knew she would have
little choice in the coming weeks.
The baby would be here, and as excited as she was to finally
meet the little thing that had been growing within her, she
was equally terrified by the thought.
More than anything, she wished Harry could be here.
She had her mother, Perenelle, and even Rosalina if she
was needed, but it wasn't the same.
Harry should be here, and were it not for the war, he would
be.
Of that, Minerva had no doubt.
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(Break)
It was odd how one became accustomed to scents that
would, under normal circumstances, leave you feeling
nauseous and fighting the urge to vomit, but as Harry
waded through the human waste that came up past his
knees, he found the smell barely registered.
Nothing would ever come close to the smell of rotting
corpses baking in the hot sun, not even gallons of flowing
excrement.
Still, he wouldn't be here if he believed he had other
options to explore.
He had entered the sewer system just outside of the city,
and for hours now Harry had been trudging through the
pipes in search of an opening, his senses alert to every
sound, every scurry of the rats that dwelled here, all in the
hope of finding just one opening.
The city above needed to be taken, and though he could
perhaps do it alone for the most part, he could not do so
without great risk to the men and women that called this
place home.
They were effectively hostages, a safeguard against a fast
and hard strike that would obliterate the magical district of
Kyiv.
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Grindelwald's men were adapting to accommodate Harry's
previous tactics.
No, as frustrating as it was, he could not risk so many lives,
not when he and his men had fought so hard to protect
them.
There had to be another way, and after pressing on for
another hour or so, he found it.
Grindelwald's followers were foolish not to guard it, but
had they even considered such a possibility.
Harry had his doubts.
Peering through the grate, he observed those that passed
him by, most being emaciated men and women who were
shepherded along the streets, hundreds of them who would
be sacrificed without thought if Harry didn't plan
accordingly.
Having seen enough, he turned to retrace his steps through
the pipes, leaving a subtle trail behind so that others might
follow in his footsteps.
Although he wished to be the man to lead them through
this avenue, that would fall to another.
Harry would be needed elsewhere, and though his plan
would not be without risk, it was the best they had, and
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soon enough, the battle for Kyiv would commence.
(Break)
Tom found himself in a melancholic mood as he gazed
across the castle grounds from his vantage point at the top
of the Astronomy Tower. June had arrived more than a
week ago, and with it, the reminder that he would have to
return to the orphanage once more in the coming weeks.
He had considered attempting to speak with the
headmaster once more about this but had decided against
doing so.
No, he would have to return.
He'd even entertained the idea of hiding out in the Room
of Requirement for the duration, but his absence would be
noted, and Dumbledore was watching him far too closely.
Tom wouldn't put it past the man to visit the orphanage
and check on him.
He released a deep breath as he stretched, tired from the
additional work he had been putting into his practice in his
retreat.
"It's only for a few months, Tom," Helena soothed.
The teen nodded, resisting the urge to offer a barbed reply.
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As irksome and naïve as the ghost was, she had assisted
him rather aptly thus far, and there was more that she could
do for him.
Although she was almost a thousand years old by this
point, she maintained the mentality of a spurned child, and
acted as such.
It would not do to give her a reason to hold a grudge
against him, not when she knew too much.
Could he even kill a ghost if needed?
The thought made him frown deeply.
"Are you okay?" the woman asked, the feel of her essence
on his shoulder as she rubbed it causing him to shudder.
Tom smiled, nonetheless.
Despite his impending return to the orphanage, this had
been his best year at Hogwarts yet, and the next may be
even better.
If Tom was fortunate, McGonagall would not be returning
once she birthed the abomination she carried.
His nostrils flared irritably.
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Even a half-wit could deduce that Evans was the father of
the child, a bastard babe that could follow in the footsteps
of its father.
Another parselmouth to contend with.
Tom grit his teeth in an attempt to calm himself.
The babe was irrelevant, but Tom would not pretend that
he hadn't visualised ending it in the womb.
A simple tripping hex as the woman descended one of the
many staircases in the castle would likely be enough, but
Tom had stayed his hand, fought the urge knowing that he
would be discovered.
That would only result in Evans seeking him out, and not
even the defences around the castle would stop him.
Tom remembered the murderous glare of the man the
night he had tried to kill him, and it made the teen shudder
involuntarily before he shook his head.
No, Evans would never be able to kill him.
As good as the world believed the man to be, Tom would
be better, but provoking him prematurely would be foolish.
Dealing with Evans and his offspring would take patience
and planning.
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Tom could wait, and in the meantime, he had other things
to focus on.
"Would you do something for me over the summer?" he
asked Helena, the sadness in his tone enough to elicit a
look of empathy from the ghost.
"Of course, Tom," she replied.
Tom offered her a half-smile of gratitude, something the
woman always fell for.
"You've shown me the incredible room that your mother
created, but I would like to find Salazar's too. It would
bring me closer to my family. Do you have any idea where
it is?"
Helena shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Tom, I don't," she sighed, "but I can try to look
for it," she added, not wanting to disappoint him.
"Thank you," Tom replied, cupping her cheek gently. "You
really are the best thing about this place."
Helena trembled at his touch before Tom left her atop the
tower to return to the dungeons, his thoughts drifting to
just what the Chamber of Secrets might hold.
(Break)
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Petr had returned the day after Harry had left, his efforts to
route Grindelwald's men out of the east of the country
having been a resounding success, and with the ICW forces
so close to Kyiv, they had opted to flee rather than join
their comrades.
The men had celebrated, pleased by the triumph, but the
sober mood washed over them once more when a tired
Harry arrived having completed his scouting trip.
"What did you find?" Charlus asked.
Harry shook his head as he released a deep breath.
"There is a way in," he confirmed, "but it is just as risky as I
thought it would be."
"Is it our only option?"
Harry nodded.
"It is, but there is something else we can do to reduce the
risk of those storming the city."
"Something riskier," Charlus sighed knowingly.
Once more, Harry nodded.
"I will lead that part of the operation, and Petr will lead the
others through the sewers. I have laid a path to be
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followed, but you will get dirty."
Petr snorted.
"What will you be doing?" the Russian asked curiously.
"Flying," Harry muttered unhappily. "I will need around
twenty volunteers to come with me to serve as a distraction
so that you can get into the city."
"Only twenty?" Petr questioned, cutting Charlus off before
he could speak.
"We need enough to keep them occupied, but any more
could be dangerous to us. I need competent fliers, the best
we have."
"That would be me and Arcturus to begin with," Charlus
volunteered.
Harry appeared as though he would disagree, but he could
not argue with Charlus's skill, nor Arcturus's, both of
whom having played for their house teams at Hogwarts for
several years.
"I have two men who played for the Russian Quidditch
team," Petr informed them. "They are excellent fliers."
Harry nodded appreciatively.
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"We will need some volunteers but do make it clear that
this will be very dangerous. None should offer themselves
unless they are confident they can avoid spell fire. We will
be the centre of attention until our men are in the city."
"How long will that take?" Charlus asked.
"It depends how quickly Petr can shove them through the
grate. You'll manage two at a time."
"That could take a while," Petr warned. "I could maybe get
forty or fifty men through per minute."
Harry hummed thoughtfully.
"Around fifteen minutes should do it to have around seven
hundred men through. I don't like it."
"Njet, but what choice do we have?" Petr asked.
Charlus did not like the idea much either.
The idea of having a mounted strike team had been
discussed, but Harry had pointed out just how dangerous
such a thing was. All it took was just one spell, any spell to
unseat someone and the chances of survival were slim.
The Potter lord snorted.
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So dangerous, and yet, this was exactly what they were
going to do.
Either their efforts would prove to be successful, or many
would lose their lives. He hoped for the former but could
not deny that the latter was more likely.
(Break)
"It almost feels like it did when we'd go out to play a
Quidditch final at Hogwarts," Arcturus murmured as he
stood with Harry, Charlus and the rest of the group that
would soon take to the sky.
For two days they had been practicing, with Evans
inspecting the men to ensure they could fly well enough for
what they would be undertaking.
The tension amongst them was palpable, and even
Arcturus could not deny the precariousness of the situation
they would soon be facing.
"Something like that," Charlus snorted. "There'll be more
than a few broken bones now though if we balls this up."
Arcturus nodded his agreement as he took out a photo of
himself and Melania on their wedding day from within his
robes.
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Dorea had taken it whilst they'd shared their first dance,
neither paying attention to the camera as they were lost in
one another's eyes.
It was his favourite photo, and even though the wedding
was not so long ago, the edges were rather dog-eared from
where he had handled and gazed at it so much.
"You'll see her again," Charlus broke into his thoughts.
"I know," Arcturus replied, replacing the photo, and patting
his pocket before turning his attention to the broom he
held. "How did Evans get these?"
The Nimbus range had become the most popular brooms
over the past couple of years for Quidditch teams and
flying enthusiasts across the continent.
For some models, there was a waiting list of months.
Harry was popular, but fame only got you so far in life.
Even Arcturus had been unable to secure a broom any
faster and he was the head of the most prominent family in
Britain.
"Harry owns forty percent of the business," Charlus huffed
amusedly.
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"Bloody hell," Arcturus grumbled. "Everything he touches
turns to gold."
"It was his gold that got the first brooms produced,"
Charlus explained.
Arcturus could only shake his head.
Perhaps he needed to discuss the art of investment with the
man.
"Alright, get ready," Harry's voice commanded, evidently
having received the signal they were waiting for from Petr.
"Remember, keep moving and don't be predictable with
your flying. If you need to pull out, get as far away from the
city as you can. Any questions?"
"If we live, can we keep the broom?" one of the Russians
asked.
Some of the men laughed nervously.
"They are yours," Harry replied with a shrug.
"Really?" the man asked, surprised by the answer.
"I don't know what I'd do with twenty brooms," Harry
pointed out.
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The men whispered amongst themselves excitedly, though
the sombre mood returned as Harry called them to
attention once more.
"Let's go."
They kicked off from the ground into the sky, hoping that
striking under the cover of darkness would offer them a
little more protection than they would have during a
daytime raid.
Being outside of the city, they couldn't see much, but their
vision would improve vastly once they were above, and as
they came upon the Ukrainian capital, Arcturus sought out
his first target.
For their own benefit, and to assist their own men that
would be storming Kyiv from below, they would be
focusing their spell fire on those on higher ground, and
atop buildings to nullify the threat they posed.
Arcturus's first victim was swept from his vantage point
with a banishing charm, being hurled over the edge of the
rooftop he was occupying, the sudden and unexpected
attack giving the man no time to defend himself.
Another fell in a similar manner before Grindelwald's
forces had organised themselves into defensive formations
across the city and began returning fire.
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As dangerous as it was to be on a broom in a combat
situation, it was equally frustrating for the defenders who
would were attempting to hit moving targets, but it was
only a matter of time before their spell work became more
accurate, or they simply got lucky.
If Gilbert and Yaxley were correct, the force below
numbered more than a thousand, and avoiding so many
rebuttals for a prolonged period would be all but
impossible.
Arcturus swerved to avoid a sickly blue curse he almost
flew into the path of, and hastily erected a shield to block
another, gripping the handle of the broom tightly as it
knocked him off balance.
Even more were sent in his direction, dozens of spells of
various colours that he managed to evade by using the
acceleration of the broom.
He passed several of his own men as he flew above Kyiv,
they too having been quickly put on the defensive, their
focus solely on not being shot down, and offering little in
the way of offense.
Not that they could if they wanted to.
They had drawn the attention of what could only be the
majority of Grindelwald's forces who were seemingly
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determined to put an end to the threat they posed.
Spell after spell continued to climb towards the mounted
men, and it became increasingly difficult to dart between
the salvos.
It wasn't long before Arcturus spotted the first of their
small group fall victim to a barrage of spells, the end of his
broom ablaze as he plummeted towards the ground with a
scream that was cut off suddenly on impact.
He had fallen hundreds of feet, and from such a height,
there was not a chance he had survived, something
Arcturus tried to ignore as he continued with his own
efforts, wondering just how long they had been up here.
For all he knew, an hour could have past already, or it may
have only been a few minutes.
He shook his head once more as he continued with his
efforts to not be clipped by an errant spell, hoping that the
ground forces would begin their assault before none
remained in the sky.
(Break)
With those flying overhead serving as a distraction, Reg
was doing all he could to hurry the men through the grate
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from the sewer so the attack from the ground could begin
as quickly as possible.
Taking a moment to appreciate the aerial acrobatics, he
shook his head.
He wanted nothing more than to be up there with Harry,
Charlus, and Arcturus, but Reg was not a seasoned flyer. In
truth, his efforts on a broom had been subpar at best
throughout his life, so he had opted to help ready the
troops here, much to the appreciation of Petr who had
taken command.
"Come on, get moving!" Reg whispered harshly, coaxing
the men into position.
It had been almost ten minutes of tension. Three of the
twenty fliers had been brought down, and from here, Reg
couldn't tell who.
"How long?" he asked Petr.
"Five minutes," was the sharp reply he received, the
Russian just as restless as him.
Reg nodded stiffly, helping more men out of the grate.
"What did you find, Gil?" he asked as the man returned
from a lastminute scout, breathless from having evidently
run through the streets of Kyiv.
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Gilbert held up a hand and took a moment to compose
himself.
"Most of Grindelwald's men are near the centre," he
wheezed. "I've found a way to get behind them. If that lot
up there keep this up, they'll never see us until the first
spells hit them," he finished excitedly.
"Bloody hell, I could kiss you sometimes. I won't because
Merlin only knows where you have been."
"Piss off, Yaxley," Gilbert huffed.
Reg grinned as he slapped the other man on the back.
"Well, since you know the way, guess who's going to be at
the front?"
Gilbert groaned.
"Oh, come on, you don't think I'd let you do it alone, do
you?"
"You're a real friend, Reg," Gilbert grumbled sarcastically.
"What would I do without you?"
"That's the spirit," Reg replied with a grin.
"Yaxley, we're ready," Petr declared as the last of the men
left the sewers.
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Any amusement Reg felt evaporated immediately as he
took a deep breath.
"Gilbert knows how we can get behind them. We'll lead
the way."
"I will come too," Petr declared without hesitation. "Let's
go."
(Break)
Harry could count on one hand how many times in his life
he had been more relieved than he was when the spell fire
below began, signalling that Petr had arrived with the other
men.
Those in the sky still had to avoid the efforts of some
intent on bringing them down, but most quickly shifted
their focus to the fight closer to hand, the more immediate
threat to them.
"REGROUP!" Harry called, signalling for his men to
follow.
After striking a man down with a throttling curse, he
landed on a nearby roof, and what remained of his group
followed suit.
In all, they had lost seven men, a sacrifice that Harry
wished could have been avoided, but was all but inevitable
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if they wished to take the city.
More would be lost to them until the fighting stopped,
something that Harry was keen to happen sooner rather
than later.
"Brooms away, let's get down there," he instructed.
The rest of the group did not want platitudes, or heartfelt
words of sorrow for the loss of their companions.
The time for that would come later. Now was the time to
continue fighting.
When they reached ground level, the group was greeted by
the familiar sight of streets littered with bodies, the dead
and the dying, flashes of spell fire, and screaming.
All had become almost daily occurrences for them, and
though each would haunt them in their own way, they had
become accustomed to war, and every last bit of misery it
brought with it.
Harry quickly located where the bulk of the fighting was
taking place, and without any need for prompting, his men
threw themselves into the fray, with Harry joining Charlus
and Arcturus, the three of them carving a path through
Grindelwald's followers.
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"DIE SCHLANGE!" one shouted, only to collapse to the
ground, grasping at his throat as blood spilled through his
fingers from Harry's severing curse.
His warning, however, was loud enough to draw the
attention of many to Harry, and he quickly found himself
being bombarded by the efforts of several men.
With Charlus and Arcturus at his side, nothing came close
to hitting any of them, and with their combined efforts, the
attackers were felled quickly, adding to the dead strewn
across the streets.
"Isn't that Gilbert and Reg?" Charlus asked, pointing
towards an alleyway where the two men had been pinned
down by a significant force.
"Help them," Harry instructed, his attention focused on
the last of the larger groups that remained, these men
doing all they could to hold off the attack that Petr was
leading.
With a nod, Charlus and Arcturus sprinted towards where
Yaxley and Gilbert were attempting to defend themselves,
and Harry twirled his wand between his fingers.
This exchange would not be like the last, but without the
need to worry about having a man either side of him, it
opened up his options.
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He redirected a cutting curse sent his way back towards his
assailant who was not as quick on the uptake.
The spell bit into his chest and sent him tumbling
backwards, his wound bleeding freely.
Not wanting to give any other an opportunity to strike,
Harry went on the offensive, his wand a blur as he
indiscriminately cast spells at those not garbed in the
uniform of the ICW.
As a fifteen-year-old being pursued by Death Eaters
through the bowels of the Ministry, he had been terrified
when he'd had to fight for his life, but now, Harry was in
his element.
The replies came thick and fast, and yet, he barely needed
to acknowledge them to know what was coming and where.
None of these men were Grindelwald nor Voldemort, each
of them lacking the brilliance and power of either of the
men. Individually, they were no threat to Harry, and even
working cohesively to bring him down, their efforts paled
in comparison to either of his foes.
Still, it did not deter any of the Grindelwald's followers
from trying, the lure of the glory of killing Harry too
strong to ignore.
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Harry, however, would not die so easily, something many
learned to their detriment.
Every man that engaged him was dispatched of, some
falling victim to their own spells and others from Harry's
creation.
Many screamed, and those that died slowly pleaded for
mercy, as others called for their mothers as though they
were children who had merely scraped a knee.
They eventually fell silent, their begging replaced by new
victims.
Harry breathed heavily as he took in the devastation
around him, the initial burst of adrenaline having ebbed
away.
The fighting that had been raging only moments ago had
all but ceased, the last of Grindelwald's men recognising
the futility of the situation they found themselves in.
The last few dozen dropped their wands and Harry
breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted Charlus, Arcturus,
and Yaxley supporting a limping Gilbert towards him.
"What happened?" he asked.
"My arse," Gilbert groaned, eliciting a bout of laughter
from the other three.
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"He took a cutting curse for me," Reg explained. "You're a
bloody hero, Gil."
"With his arse?" Harry snorted.
Gilbert moaned in pain, and Harry chanced a glance at his
wound, wincing as he did so.
From what he could see, the man was now missing half of
his left buttock.
"Get him to a healer," he instructed.
"Come on, Gil," Reg sighed. "If you're a good boy, I'll even
convince Petr to let you have some vodka."
"Up yours, Reg," Gilbert whimpered as Arcturus helped
them towards where the healers were now setting up a
medical station a short distance away.
Harry shook his head.
Gilbert would be okay in a few days, though his backside
would certainly never be the same.
It would be quite the story to tell when he returned home.
"We did it," Charlus sighed tiredly.
Harry nodded, allowing the first smile to crest his lips for
weeks to form.
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It had taken months of fighting, clawing for every mile
gained of land here, but they had indeed done it.
The Ukraine had finally been liberated, and though he was
pleased, the real work would begin now.
"What next?" Charlus asked.
"We carry on," Harry answered simply, "but not until you
have taken some leave along with Gilbert and Reg. You've
all more than earned it. Go and see your mum, Charlus, it's
been almost a year."
Charlus swallowed deeply as he nodded.
"I will," he promised.
"And check on Minerva for me if you have time. It would
mean a lot to me if you could."
"You didn't even need to ask," Charlus chuckled, squeezing
his shoulder comfortingly. "I'll break the news to the
others. It might stop Gilbert whinging for a while."
Harry watched Charlus's retreating form as he removed the
coin he'd been using to communicate with Eleanor.
We need to meet. I'm in Berlin. E
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Comments (14)
Thanks for another highly enjoyable and fantastic chapter
Brilliant as always
Petr was more than capable of overseeing things, and Kyiv
was in no danger of being attacked, not with the ICW
forces stretched across the entirety of the country.
Eleanor's message served to remind Harry that although
they'd achieved a great victory, and taken a significant step
to eradicating Grindelwald's following, there was still much
to do, more battles to fight, and more victories to be had
before the war would be concluded.
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AvidReader2425 2 weeks ago · 0 Likes
Elaine Rose 2 months ago · 0 Likes
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Statute of secrecy is not even an afterthought in this story
Another excellent chapter. I enjoyed the Ukraine chapters
but I'm glad they didn't bog down the story.
A bit cathartic to have the Ukraine part of the story at this
time. Good drama. Thanks again for crafting and
continuing.
I am just going with the flow at this point.
Wait every week eagerly to read the next story. This is a top
notch story compared to others. Makes my week and keeps
me eagerly waiting. Hoping you would release more than 2
chapters a week.
Guest 2 months ago · 0 Likes
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Please write the next chapter. Thank you very much. I
really appreciated it and liked it a lot. I am sorry if I am
being rude or annoying you with my reviews; I don't mean
to be rude or annoy you with my review; I just really like
your story a lot.
The chapters have been written already, mostly. The
author's just posting them twice per week. And if you truly
cared for being rude or annoying, or writing an actual
review in the first place, you wouldn't keep posting this on
every chapter!
I'm on the edge of my seat
Rosalinw to be god mother pleasee
Justin 3 months ago · 0 Likes
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When the Roses Bloom Again - The Gauntlet
When the Roses Bloom Again - Layer
Upon Layer
Another great chapter. I am a little surprised at how many
Ukrainians are willing to work with the ICW/Russian
troops after everything Russia pulled in 1932-33. I guess
that desperate times really do call for desperate measures.
I'll probably never truly understand the complexities of
WW2 alliances.
Can't help but wonder who the godparents will be.
Looking forward to the next one.
Great chapter. I absolutely love this story. Have been
following it since its beginning
Mike 3 months ago · 0 Likes
Sober 3 months ago · 0 Likes
Shakthi S 3 months ago · 0 Likes
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