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Urban kicked at one of the corpses that lay at his feet, the person unmoving and with their eyes looking endlessly into the sky. They had been killed by the blast by the look of the mess around them and that they had become, but he wasn't stupid, he knew what people did in scenarios such as this. It was why he had so many of his Aurors put another spell or two into the bodies around them.

It wasn't allowed according to the law, but damn that law and any others. Urban's family was Polish, they had fought for Poland, their homeland and the lack of honour those who followed Grindelwald had was quite simply, astounding. They would do whatever it took to ensure you were dead, they would butcher children or put pregnant women between them and you. Nothing was off-limits to the scum that followed the 'greatest' Dark Lord in centuries; if that was how they'd act, he would kill every last one of them.

Another flash of flight from his side and a grunt from a few of those nearer to it told Urban that another body had just been completely dealt with. There had been dozens, possibly even hundreds that had been left in reserve. Had they all been veterans, it was a fight that Urban expected he would have lost if not come out with an extremely costly victory, but that wasn't to be. Grindelwald had left behind all those he didn't have any confidence in and keeping them together had been only a handful of his more devout followers.

Once they were dead, it had been a turkey shoot, to quote a Yankee film he had particularly enjoyed before the craziness of war had come to his adoptive home's land.

"Head Auror!" Said one of the Aurors nearby, the person sounding panicked as they ran over to him despite the clear signs that the battle was coming to an end across the entirety of the field.

"What is it?" Urban grunted as he kicked over another body, this one making his upper lip tremble in anger as he saw the youth of the person it had once belonged to.

The young Auror nearby swallowed audibly, the soot covering him doing nothing to mask his greenhorn status. "The Deputy Director fell, he's not waking u—"

Urban was off, he wasn't waiting, he didn't care to. McMacson was family, annoying and horribly arrogant with all sorts of nepotism mixed in, but the man was family. He had taken him into his home, he had gotten him promoted and promoted again, he saved the two children and put them into his care — they were Urban's kids now, there wasn't any other way to think of them, but he had fallen to Grindelwald even alongside Dumbledore.

If he died and there wasn't any chance of a goodbye, much less seeing the man continue his ambitions after all that he had done for the world, Urban too would suffer. Some portion of him, a small piece, would be damaged as he lost the last man he had considered family… if it weren't for the two kids, the revenge tour he would go on would be legendary.

Such thoughts ended in violence beyond belief but they were short-lived when he came to the clearing that McMacson as well as a good few others were laying about. Some wore Auror robes of a colour he hadn't seen, others wore the typical robes that followers of Grindelwald wore and there, propped against a tree with his eyes closed, was McMacson.

Urban rushed over, paying no need to the others that were present or the crowd that had formed a good twenty meters away. "Mac?" he asked when he was close enough, his voice gruff as ever but the nickname acting as a sign of his nervousness.

"Still here," McMacson wheezed, his voice hoarse and an audible, liquidy sound rising from a hole in his chest. It didn't look good, he didn't look good, but the woman next to him and the man beside her, was very obviously doing their best despite his condition. "Still here."

"You did it, we've won all across the front — you were right, I'll give you that, you mad bastard," Urban said with an undertone of a chuckle as he looked across the field. "I didn't think it could be done, but it was. I guess I'll owe you a drink when we're back in the office and rested up, but don't think I won't blast you if it goes to your head."

McMacson groaned something out that wasn't perceivable, and then his head fell to the side, limp. Urban didn't believe what he saw, he shook his head and looked away, his lip wobbling as it had earlier and his fists clenching. "Get him to Saint Mungo's," he said to the two healers, his voice gruffer and firm beyond belief as he refused to look at McMacson's form, the wet sound worse than it had previously been.

"We can't move him until he's stable. Everything we need to fix him is here; potions, gauze, and most importantly, our wands," said the woman, equally as firm as she went about her work with a franticness that screamed something was wrong. "He's with us, we'll take care of him."

Urban nodded a few times in the hopes that he could convince himself of his friend's well-being and when that failed, he walked away. He couldn't bear to see McMacson torn up as he was, it didn't feel right, it didn't feel real.

"Head Auror!" Came another voice as three people ran up to him, his mind unable to process all that he'd just seen and the battle he had just fought in as his juniors sought him out. "We have a report from the main front, sir…"

"Go," Urban grunted at the man — boy was more like it — brave enough to speak.

"Of the six-hundred and thirty-two Aurors and nearly one-thousand volunteers, we've counted nearly two-hundred fallen, another thre—" The man stopped when Urban shook his head and waved a hand.

Urban didn't want to hear that, they needed to focus elsewhere, not on their losses.

And so they did… for the next few days.

"I'm not dead yet, am I?" McMacson asked from his hospital bed with a superior grin on his face. "One of the only people in the world who can say they fought Grindelwald to a stand-still, pretty impressive, innit?"

Urban snorted and looked at him. "It took you, Professor Dumbledore and two kids from Hogwarts to beat the man, one man," Urban snorted and poked at his friend's forehead, one of the only uninjured parts of the man's body. "Hate to say it, Mac, but I think you might have been the worst of the four in the fight."

McMacson gasped, the sound indignant and comedic. "That's only because those two kids have something up with their wands, you heard the reports from the girl — Elaine, a lot of the higher-ups already know who she is and that fiance of hers, Peverell, he's a good lad. They're a good pair so long as we keep them happy."

"Yeah, I'll leave that to you. I don't fancy keeping track of a couple of teenagers, but that job doesn't sound like it's all that bad of one for somebody who loves their politics and doing whatever is needed to keep on climbing… surprised your knees aren't as injured as the rest of you, really," Urban laughed when Mac huffed and crossed his arms, the wounded man joining him after a few seconds of faux anger.

The silence stayed for a few seconds, the two of them collecting themselves from the light-hearted moments and the sounds of the other wounded passing through the halls.

"We won, we really won," McMacson eventually said when the silence had gone on for long enough. "I didn't think we'd do it, or if we did, I thought it just might cost the majority of our lives, but it didn't. We still have a Department, a Ministry, and people to look after."

"Only because the man was an idiot, a very dangerous idiot, but stupid beyond belief nonetheless. I will never understand why he came here as he did, he gave up his country, most of his men and a large portion of his followers, for what?" Urban shook his head and leaned against the doorway that led into McMacson's bathroom. "The young lad, Peverell? He stole the lad's sigil, tried to pervert it for some greater magical community and then he just threw it all away."

McMacson shrugged. "They're still trying to understand why he came here, they've been trying to since the announcement was made, but we'll never know. His followers are fleeing, a few are going to stay and harass the population, I reckon they won't last long, and then it's all politics from here on out."

Urban snorted.

"Go home, spend some time with your kids, they're probably worried sick about you. I'll be good here, it gets me some time away from the family and work, who knows, maybe my knees will heal just as good as my shoulder does, yeah?" McMacson's self-deprecating joke eased the tension from Urban and with a final laugh shared between the two men, Urban did as his friend suggested.

He went home, to his family.

"Urban!" Came the dual voices of two teenagers as soon as he had stepped — fallen — through the Floo and onto the younger people who had been loitering on a couch. One that had been pulled up until it was directly in front of the Floo access.

He had nearly squished Alina, had it not been for Artur catching him long enough for Urban to regain his footing. "Did the two of you stay out of trouble while I was gone?"

At his question, Artur nodded emphatically while Alina held onto him in silence. Neither one wanted to speak, they looked nervous beyond belief with a deep lingering of sorrow and, in Alina's case, hints of anger in their expressions. He could understand all of those emotions, but he doubted they'd be just as clear for him as they were for the two teenagers; he knew a life of peace, happiness and stability with family, they didn't, it had been robbed from them.

"What say we order Muggle food for a change? Whatever the two of you like?" Urban asked, the thought not too far removed from his mind considering the frequency he had eaten the Muggles' cooking on his trip to the Magical UK.

Alina and Artur looked at one another, then they shook their heads. Alina eventually found her voice before her brother, the girl speaking when she was certain everything wasn't horrible. "We have dinner already made for you, papa."

Papa, Urban thought as he fought to keep his own emotions in check. I'm a Papa, and hopefully not too horrible of one.

"What about the two of you?" He asked Alina.

"We'll eat with you, we wanted to wait so that we could do it as a family… we knew you were coming home, you promised, you had to," she said as her eyes started to get watery, forcing her to look away and in the direction of the dining room.

Urban wouldn't force her to speak, instead, he leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of her head and then, he stood up. He helped the two teens up, the three of them walking in line with one another until they made it to the kitchen, where even then, the two teens didn't want to release him despite the massive spread of food they had made together; it truly was massive too, enough so that a second table purely for sweets that the two had made was in the dining room.

"Thank you," Urban said to the two when he looked back at them.

In response, they hugged him, the wetness from their eyes finally falling as they embraced their Papa.