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Chapter Four

Ron slurped his coffee as he trudged down the corridor to the room they'd sectioned off. He was hoping that his team would find some clue to lead them to the dark-haired teenager he was sure was connected to the strange magical creatures that were said to be roaming London.

After the boy had escaped with his friends, Ron had had his team attempt to pursue, but the tunnel had collapsed too fast. Ron had the room sealed, with every intention of making his young team fix the damage – until they had realized there was no trace of magic last week.

It was a bit embarrassing to admit it had taken so long to notice that.

He rubbed his hand tiredly against his face. He was regretting not tipping in a little Pepper-Up potion into his coffee this morning, especially as he neared the room and the rather shrill tones of an indignant Helena Eaton reached him. Chand, for all he was worth, was giving it right back.

At this point Ron considered that his day might be devoted to karmic justice, or whatever that concept was. Only this morning his own darling children had had a monumental row at the breakfast table that had resulted in a somewhat dangerous burst of accidental magic from Hugo – he had sent all the dishes flying. And now his team was arguing in much the same way.

Sudden clarity came upon him then – this must be what Harry and the rest of Gryffindor Tower felt like throughout his time at Hogwarts.

Eaton and Chand were nose to nose when he entered the room, with Jenkins standing a fair distance away, wand ready.

"Alright," he said. "Whatever you're arguing about, it can wait. Have you found anything?"

After a ragged chorus of apologies, Jenkins stepped forward.

"Still no magic, sir. But Chand remembered something," he nodded to his teammate, his floppy brown hair covering his eye.

"It was the kid's sword, Captain Weasley. It was bronze, like something out of early civilization. And the other two had weapons as well. Not one of them used a wand."

Ron nodded. He had thought that was odd, and odder still when no trace of magic had been found in the tunnel. But what it could mean, he was not entirely certain. He had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't like it though.

"Chand doesn't think they're dark wizards now," Eaton butted in. "I still think they got a hold of a time turner. Who uses weapons like that?"

Before anyone could reply, Harry appeared. He was clutching a struggling memo in one hand.

"Ron! That case of yours just jumped in importance. Some of those creatures were just spotted, and it looked like a kid matching the description you wrote up is with them. We might be able to still catch them."

As he hurried towards the lifts, he glanced at Harry.

"Are you coming?"

"Of course! I've been cooped up in the office too long."

They got on the lift and Ron looked up to see his team hurrying to catch up.

"Oh no. You three are staying here."

Ron would have enough trouble – no reason to give the kid a further reason to run.

Within moments, he and Harry reached the Atrium and apparated away.

ooo

Ron and Harry had landed in the middle of chaos.

Or at least, that was the impression he got the second it took to orient himself.

The street was torn up; the sidewalks were rubble, there were deep trenches scratched into the road, windows were blown out of the shops, and water pooled in the gutter.

And then there were the monsters.

No matter how hard he looked at them, he felt he couldn't quite see them clearly, as if someone had jinxed his eyesight. How could someone not include these things in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?

There were snake-like women slithering across the ruined street, the two snake trunks they had for legs propelling them forward. They were hissing as they skirmished with the three teenagers, using their nets and spears to trap them. There were at least five of the snake women things.

Ron and Harry sprinted down the street, ready to call defensive spells as they moved close enough to avoid hitting the teenagers.

Said teenagers did not appear to need their help, however.

Just as they reached them, the blonde girl slashed one of the snake women with her bronze knife, and the monster turned into dust.

As fascinating and unexpected as that was, however, he and Harry had cornered one. They began firing off the best offensive spells they knew – to little effect. In fact, the snake woman was smirking at them, and suddenly Ron wished he had a sword handy as well.

Then the other girl, with a particularly fierce expression, barreled into them. She knocked them onto the ground.

"This is not your fight," she growled.

In the next second she plunged her spear into the snake woman, who burst into a shower of dust just as the others had.

Ron and Harry were already on their feet and watching as the other two approached. The boy – who was definitely the one his team thought was a young time-traveling Harry – was swiping his arm across his brow as he stepped around the rubble.

"Do you think those were the last?"

The girl, whose startling gray eyes were assessing them, didn't answer.

"Whether those things were the last or not, I think you have time for a few questions," Harry said.

"How about you start with your name and what you're doing here?" Ron suggested.

The boy looked between them and cursed.

The one with the spear took a threatening step towards them just as the road beneath them shuddered. From around the corner a huge, two-headed serpent had rolled itself across the rubble towards them.

Both heads lunged to strike.

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