AN: As you'll notice in this chapter, Remus and Sirius will appear a little...OOC. There's a reason for this. However, I may or may not decide to explore why in an Interlude a little later. Regardless, the main point of this chapter is to give a few more hints as to what's been done to the Potters and their closest associates that gave them the power to do the things they've done. Cheers, - MB.

Harrisburg…

Nymphadora Tonks was simply not used to war.

Certainly, the pretty Auror had seen battle before. After all, she was an Auror, and as such was used to chasing down and battling Dark Wizards. What she was not used to, however, was the absolute devastation caused by total war.

Even as she recalled the stories of the First War against Voldemort, the images spoken thereof and the ones she was witnessing right now simply did not compare. The Dark Wars, in her mind, were far more devastating than the First War, and it terrified her.

No, more than that, it shook her to her very core.

In front of her, all throughout the wide streets, the former Order of the Phoenix was battling with the legions of Death Eaters that were attempting to push through the British lines.

There were no British forces on Island 5, unfortunately. It had taken practically everything the British garrison had to defend the other six islands, and nearly everyone had been recalled to defend the Central Island.

Still, the Order had answered Dumbledore's call (interestingly enough, as they had all voted to dissolve it because of his previous actions) to defend the Imperial Capital, and as such, were now fighting for their very lives as they attempted to merely survive against the apparently infinite horde of masked men in black robes.

Tonks quickly ducked as a Severing Curse flew over her head, and fired one right back, disregarding Dumbledore's orders to use non-lethal spells. It was a silly order, in her opinion. After all, this wasn't the same as before 1994, when she had fought to incarcerate the damn buggers. No, here, she fought to save her own skin, and that of her friends, all of whom were equally fighting.

To her left, she could see Ron Weasley fighting off two Death Eaters, and Kingsley Shacklebolt subduing one. Further down their makeshift line was Hermione Granger, who seemed to be barely hanging on against three more, while Arthur and Molly Weasley, patriarch and matriarch of the family, fought back-to-back against at least five.

To her right, she could see Frank Longbottom and Mad-Eye Moody working off each other in order to maximize their kills—a skill that required years of practice between partners. That the two were able to do so with barely two years of practice was amazing, but spoke volumes of their determination. Further down, more of the Auror members of the ex-Order were also fighting with their all.

Still, Tonks realized, the sides weren't the problem. The problem, she could clearly see, was what was in front of her.

Row after row of Death Eaters lay waiting for their chance, having presumably stopped their column to humour the defenders' desire to fight, rather than simply steamrollered over them. She knew what that meant, though.

It meant there was no chance for the ex-Order to win this battle, and the enemy knew it, which was why they were mocking them with this farce of a skirmish. If the soldiers were here in their stead, the Death Eaters would never have stopped and taken their sweet time to bulldoze right through. The soldiers were too dangerous for that. Aurors and common wizards, however, were no problem.

"This isn't going well," hissed Draco Malfoy further down the line, mirroring Tonks' own thoughts. The young blonde was currently finishing off one of his opponents with a slash to the neck. He too had completely disregarded the standing order from Dumbledore to use non-lethal spells. For that matter, so had most of the rest of their fighters.

"Agreed," came the sullen response from the young man's mentor, Severus Snape, who had finished off two more by severing their heads with a Sectumsempra curse, a nasty spell he had invented on his own.

"Soldiers aren't coming," interjected Ron as he jumped backwards and to the sides to avoid getting hit by the myriad of spells coming his way. "We're all that's left between them, and the bridges."

It was little comfort to Tonks, who had begun to use her shape-shifting skills to modify her body to help her fight better. One minute she had a normal, female body, the next her hand was enlarged into a massive male fist, which would crash into the Death Eater's guts, followed by an Explosion hex to the back of the enemy's skull.

"We're not enough," she called out amongst the chattering. "Either we fall back, or we're done for!"

"Dumbledore promised reinforcements!" barked Moody as he bent over, allowing Frank to roll over his back and thus avoid getting cursed, while firing a spell right into a Death Eater's face. "Manipulative, he may be, but he'd never let us all die!"

Frank lodged a fist into a Death Eater's gut before subsequently firing a Death Curse at the man's exposed back. "Agreed," was all the scarred veteran Auror said.

"VALLUM!" a white shield immediately appeared in front of Hermione's slender figure (her own creation—an upgrade of the Protego shield) as she brought up her arms to protect her face from the dust resulting from the impact of the Severing curse and her shield. Turning to the others, she nodded. "We need to buy Dumbledore more time!"

Tonks smiled weakly at that as she gazed at the horde of Death Eaters before her, still waiting for their own chance.

'Sure, you say that…' she thought, 'but how do you do it, though?'

The moment of thinking, however, cost Tonks dearly. Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, one of the inanimate Death Eaters from the rows waiting suddenly lunged forward and tackled her backwards. Though the Death Eater remained on his feet, Tonks fell onto her back, hard.

"Sonuva…"

She barely had time to say that fraction of a word before the Death Eater was upon her again, this time punching and kicking away at her, which took her completely off guard, as she was used to duelling Death Eaters with spells, not physical combat!

"Tonks!" yelled Ron, who had noticed the Metamorphmagi getting pounded by her unknown assailant. The redhead himself, however, had little choice but to ignore the combat, as his own distraction had caused the Death Eaters he was fighting to nearly land a few blows.

All of her companions were similarly occupied, and those who tried to get closer found their way barred by more Death Eaters, who came charging out of their own lines.

The Death Eater came at Tonks with a ferocity she was taken aback with. It was as if her aggressor had a personal grudge against her, and she couldn't understand why as he beat at her relentlessly.

"Stup—" she tried to cast, but was rapidly silenced by a punch to the stomach.

"Expe—" Again, she was cut off as her attacker brought up his lower palm and uppercut her in the jaw.

Whoever she was fighting, Tonks knew was a pro. He or she had obviously had physical combat experience, and he or she was beating her down like a rag doll. She could find no openings in her attacker's stance, nor in his blows. There was no chance to duck, for the moment she tried, another fist would come up from out of nowhere.

What she couldn't understand, however, was the ferocity with which she was being assaulted. It was as if her assailant saw her very existence as insulting, and was trying to erase her from the fabric of reality.

As Tonks was hammered away at by her attacker, she could feel her consciousness slip steadily out of her grasp, as well as a few bones break, causing shooting pains to strike her regularly. Even as her limp body arched into the air from a final hit from her attacker, she began to realize the absolute inescapability of her fate. She was going to die.

Tonks was in the middle of making her peace with her maker, her attacker's fist coming up for a final blow to her spine, when she suddenly felt herself jerked to the side.

Barely registering what had just happened, Tonks cleared her vision by shaking her head, only to find herself even more flabbergasted by what she now saw.

Kneeling in the dirt of the road, two long indentures streaking away from where his shoes were, Remus Lupin was holding her in his arms, a protective look on his face as he regarded the Death Eater who had attacked Tonks. Amber eyes flared with primal fury as the sandy-haired werewolf judged the Death Eater as a predator would his prey.

"Are you alright?" asked Remus suddenly, startling the bubblegum pink-haired Auror.

"F-Fine," she croaked out, half out of the pain that was now shooting throughout her body, and half due to the awe she felt at the heroic disposition of her rescuer.

Turning his head slightly, Remus' eyes sought out Ron Weasley, who had just finished beating off his attackers, having used their momentary distraction at Remus' arrival to his advantage.

"Weasley," barked the fair-haired werewolf. "I entrust her to you."

Ron silently nodded as he gently took Tonks into his arms, his taller and more muscular physique letting him hold her in a bridal position without much trouble.

Remus, for his part, was now back on his feet and facing the Death Eater who had attacked Tonks. The werewolf's hands were at his sides, contracting into fists and then releasing, his bones resonating as they cracked.

For his (or her) part, the Death Eater who had attacked Tonks seemed unimpressed by the humbly dressed werewolf before him.

"You think too highly of yourself, Remus Lupin," came a grating, male voice from behind the man's mask. "To think you can take me on one-on-one is pure madness!"

Remus gave a fierce grin. "Not the first man I've killed who's said that," he noted. "Perhaps it is you who is overconfident, Fenrir," he remarked tauntingly.

A low, guttural growl emerged from behind the ivory mask of the Death Eater as the man—or rather, werewolf—in question took off his mask and revealed the grey-bearded, wild figure of Fenrir Greyback, the feared Death Eater werewolf.

To the side, Ron Weasley could be heard cussing his mind out as he realized exactly why they had been having such trouble, even against common Death Eaters.

"No bloody wonder!" cried out the redhead. "They're sodding werewolves!"

Ignoring the subsequent indignant cry of "Ron!" from Hermione, Remus kept his eyes on Greyback, who was snarling in his direction.

"You've grown a backbone, pup" snarled Greyback. "Last I remember you, you were a snivelling little schoolboy, trying to his hide his big bad secret," he mocked.

Remus' eyes narrowed at that jab. "Last I remember you, Greyback, you were a monster. Good to see you're as predictable as ever," he threw back.

Another snarl erupted from Greyback. "Enough chit-chat, pup!" he barked. "Either fight me or get out of my way! But don't think you alone can stop us!"

Remus' fierce grin came back in full force now, something which momentarily gave pause to Greyback's confidence. After all, why would the fair-haired werewolf look so confident, despite being outnumbered over 1000 to 1?

Greyback watched as Remus raised a hand in the air, absolutely confused as to what the fair-haired werewolf was doing. He seemed to be…signalling someone?

Almost immediately after the feared Death Eater made that connection, he heard numerous screams erupt from within his detachment of Death Eaters. Spinning around on his heel, the werewolf watched in horror as numerous men erupted from within the houses on either side and tore apart his flanks.

What surprised him most, however, was the fact that they, like him, were werewolves as well. While human in appearance, that unnatural strength, and their wild eyes gave him no doubt that they were kinmen.

"Impossible!" he cried out. "Why are werewolves working for the Muggles?" he demanded rhetorically.

"Freedom," came the whispered reply next to his ear, clueing in the werewolf that Remus was right behind him. Too little, too late, however, as Greyback was sent hurtling through the air as Remus' fist crashed into his back.

Adopting a more arrogant stance, hands on his hips, Remus gave the downed werewolf a confident smirk. This infuriated Greyback, who launched himself at Remus, fist first. Sidestepping the blow, Remus' face turned serious as his hand shot out and grabbed Greyback's wrist, his left leg then shooting up to knee the older werewolf in the stomach.

Greyback went down reeling from the blow, spewing vomit as he went to his knees, gasping for air. He had little time to recuperate, however, as Remus' foot shot up and kicked him in the face, back-flipping Greyback onto his back.

The older werewolf snarled in fury as he jumped back onto his feet, and once again threw himself at Remus, completely lacking in any form of strategy—instigated by simple, pure rage.

Using Greyback's own thoughtlessness, Remus ducked the incoming punch low, crouching to the ground, before springing back up, fist first, into Greyback's chin, upper-cutting the grey-haired werewolf in the chin with an open-palmed devastating blow.

Greyback's unfocused eyes gazed up into the air, full of shock, as he realized that Remus was winning over him without much effort. The very notion seemed impossible, but there it was. He had been now struck three times, and had not landed a single punch, every time falling for the younger werewolf's superior reasoning and emotional control.

As he felt himself land onto an open hand, he felt his fear increase ten-fold as he realized that Remus had not once launched a spell yet, and yet Greyback had judged the younger werewolf as a simple wizard trying to get rid of the Lupine Curse. Obviously, he was doing so no longer, and Greyback finally began to fear for his own mortality as he felt the hand keeping him up by his back begin to get warmer.

"The earthen wall trembles, the sky god thunders…" recited the voice of Remus Lupin beneath him, instantly sending up a chill of fear and panic through Greyback. "The child wails, the man trembles…"

"Ars Nova Undetricensim!" he shouted, the words resonating throughout the island. "Mors…Fulminis!"

Greyback found himself incapable of screaming as his throat closed up from the pain of having over 300,000 volts course through his body. His body was a mere shadow within the luminescent electric storm that ravaged his body, his limbs jerking spasmodically around as Remus kept a firm grip on the older werewolf's back.

As the Order wizards looked on in horror, Remus held up the violently convulsing body of Fenrir Greyback, smoke emanating from his rapidly cooking flesh, as the most feared werewolf alive was being replaced by his killer, who was dispassionately dispatching the man who had turned him into a werewolf.

All around them, similarly taking care of their foes, the rest of the 101st Regiment of Foot, the "Werewolves," used every ability they had to eliminate the Death Eaters, sometimes using their super-human strength, while at other times using the wandless spells that had been taught to them by Loyalist wizards.

Within mere moments, the vanguard of Fenrir Greyback's flanking attack had been decimated. Their leader was dead, his carbonized carcass still held up by Remus, who was looking at the ex-Order wizards with complete indifference to their horror, and the entire vanguard (nearly 300 men and women) was dead. Undoubtedly, more of them would be on their way, but for now, the ex-Order had been given a reprieve.

Throwing down the charred corpse of Fenrir Greyback, Remus spoke to the ex-Order now. "Orders from above. Retreat to the Royal Palace. We will be taking care of this flank," he told them, nudging his head in the direction of his werewolves as he mentioned them.

Tonks, who had watched in utter awe at her rescuer's ability, was snapped out her reverie as she saw Remus turn and begin to leave to rejoin his men.

"Wait!" she cried, halting the werewolf in his tracks. As Remus turned to face her, his eyes alight with curiosity…and perhaps something else, she spoke up. "W-Why…why do you fight for the Empire?" she asked. "I-I thought the D-Death Eaters had all the w-werewolves…"

Stunning his audience, most of whom were now horrified at the werewolf commander before them, Remus laughed. It was not an evil laugh, either; it was a simple, humour-filled laugh that spoke volumes of how truly amused he was by the question.

Winking at Tonks and giving her a grin (both of which made the Metamorphmagi blush), Remus explained, "We are free men and women. We have our rights recognized. We are protected by law against discrimination, and we protect the Empire from its enemies," he told Tonks. "We…are the Hundred-and-first Imperial Regiment of Foot, the 'Werewolves'. At your service."

Tonks blushed at Remus' gallant introduction, making the werewolf grin, showing that apart from slightly sharper-than-normal incisors, there was nothing inhuman-looking about him. "Now, please, head off towards the palace. The nursing station there will look after your wounds," he urged them, prompting the wizards to resume their running trek towards the palace, leaving Remus behind, which suited the fair-haired werewolf just fine, since this meant less witnesses to what they were about to commit. He could hear the footsteps of the oncoming enemy reinforcements clearly now.

"You're late," Remus suddenly said, a knowing smile creeping onto his face.

Leaning back onto the wall of a nearby house, Sirius Black, dressed in his typical three-piece suit, gave him a dismissive wave. "You're the one who's running behind schedule, Remus," he told his companion as he pushed himself off and straightened up, hands in his pockets. "Always showing off to the girls. I swear—working for the Empire brought out the womanizer in you."

Remus laughed. "Yes, well, it does seem that our personalities switched when we joined up, doesn't it?" he agreed. "I lightened up, you became more responsible."

Sirius snorted. "Right. Whatever," he said dismissively, before looking at the hordes of Death Eaters that Remus' werewolves were dispatching. "Better finish up, then."

Remus nodded. "Joachim in place?"

Sirius nodded once. "Been there for a while, too."

Remus grinned now. "Excellent. How do you want to do this?" he asked, walking towards the fighting. Sirius gave his friend a dark smile before accompanying him, twirling his wand in his fingers. Amazingly, it slowly shifted in shape into a dagger.

"Authorization for lifting power restriction levels has been granted," he told Remus as he stored the dagger in his coat. "Harry's decided that enough is enough. He wants this over with now."

Remus gave a fierce smile as he slammed his fists together. From the sound of it, if there had been a skull in the middle, it would have become dust from the impact. "Excellent."

"Let's go wild."

Sirius didn't even blink as Remus disappeared from his side, a single, fine line of dust kicking up from the ground all the indication that his partner had charged the melee going on in front of them. Sirius sighed before shaking his head tolerantly. "Always in such a rush," he mumbled as he walked towards the fighting.

A few steps in, he stopped. Not even bothering to look around him, he addressed the Death Eaters he knew were surrounding him. From the feel of them, they were the real deal—not Terracotta replicas. "You mind telling me what you want?" he asked serenely. "I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"You're not a werewolf," observed one of the Death Eaters, although it sounded more like a question than an observation to Sirius.

Sirius' gaze flickered to the man for an instant before he closed his eyes, adopting a totally serene attitude. "That's right," he replied easily, hands still in his pockets. He hadn't even bothered to put up a fighting stance.

Sirius could feel the smiles being formed on the faces of his aggressors. He didn't know what was more asphyxiating—the feel of their relief, or the knowledge that they were about to make a huge mistake. Either way, he knew exactly what was going to happen.

"Then you'll be the first to die!" yelled the Death Eater, whipping his wand towards Sirius, a spell fast on his lips. "Diffindo!"

The spell raced towards Sirius, the bolt of cutting energy arched in order to slice as much as possible. Accompanying it were the five other spells the Death Eater's comrades had also launched at Sirius, all undoubtedly lethal. Sirius, however, did the most curious thing in response—he curled his lips into a disappointed sneer.

"Tsk."

Before their very eyes, Sirius disappeared in a flash, only to come back into their vision when one of the Death Eaters screamed, blood surging out violently from a wound he had received along his back. The Death Eaters turned their heads to see Sirius standing there, a smallish dagger in hand, looking for all the world completely bored.

The lead Death Eater whipped his wand towards Sirius again, this time silently casting another cutting hex at the dark haired wizard, his companions following suit quickly after.

Again, just as the spells were about to end his life, Sirius disappeared, reappearing behind the Death Eater opposite his previous victim. This time, the lead Death Eater had been on alert, and upon hearing the blade begin to tear his comrade's flesh, he turned and shot another hex. Sirius, however, didn't seem surprised at all, and instead stopped his stabbing arm midway (to the utter pain of his victim) and instead pulled the man in front of the curse, allowing the cutting hex to slice right into his face. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Sirius again disappeared, this time not allowing the Death Eaters time to fire hexes at him. Almost immediately, they started looking around them, constantly in motion so Sirius wouldn't have the chance to sneak up on them.

"Futile."

Another scream pierced the area as another Death Eater met his end at the hands of Sirius Black. The three remaining Death Eaters, however, had no time to react, as Sirius again disappeared and reappeared right behind and above his next victim, spinning in mid-air to land a round-house kick into his victim's left temple. A sickening crack could be heard clearly as Sirius' foot shattered the man's skull. Again, just as the Death Eaters were about to react, Sirius disappeared, reappearing in a crouching position before his next victim. Instantly lashing out with his arm, he caught the man's jaw with his palm and forced the head to snap up so quickly and violently that the man's neck broke, killing the man instantly.

Only the Death Eater leader was left, his wand arm shaking violently as he screamed, fell on the ground, and then dragged himself quickly to the nearest house wall, trying to control his aim by grabbing his wand with both arms. It was a futile move, as they were both shaking violently. From the stains on his robes, it was clear that he was crying, and the short, gasped sobs of fear added to this conclusion.

"C-C-Come out!" he screamed hysterically. "S-S-Show yourself, monster!"

As if summoned, Sirius reappeared on the very spot he had first been assaulted by the Death Eaters. The melee further down the road between the Terracotta soldiers and the Werewolves was still going strong, and yet none had broken off to help either side in this little skirmish. "Surrender," came Sirius' gentle, but firm command.

The man gulped audibly, tears still falling from his chin onto his robes, and his arms, tightly grabbing onto his wand, were shaking violently. "N-N-Never!" he screamed. "I'll never s-s-surrender to monsters! Avada Kedavra!"

To the man's horror, Sirius did not move to evade the spell. For a moment, he thought he had finally dispatched the man who had so casually murdered his five friends. Even as the spell drew nearer, the dark-haired wizard did nothing. Unbelieving glee was just settling in the Death Eater when horror quickly replaced it.

Sirius had lifted one arm towards the spell, and caught it.

He didn't die. He didn't side-step it. He didn't even put up a physical shield.

He caught the spell.

Avada Kedavra. The Killing Curse.

The one curse that, short of a physical barrier, could not be blocked.

Even as the Death Eater screamed uncontrollably, sheer panic finally taking over, Sirius curled his hand around the sickly green orb of energy the spell had coalesced into.

"Energy," he suddenly spoke. "All magic is simple energy, malleable to our own desires. If we wished for a person to fly, our energy would allow it. If we wished a person to die, then Avada Kedavra is the result," it sounded more like he was reciting something from memory than a spur-of-the-moment explanation. "Sirius turned his head slightly towards the Death Eater, who seemed on the verge of a total nervous breakdown.

"Did you really think we would not seek to neutralize all your weapons?" he asked, his serene disposition turning savage. "That we would not learn our lessons from the past?!" Sirius' eyes narrowed into a dangerous, feral, and lethal glare. "I'll show you—All of you—the magnitude of your arrogance!" With that, he did the unthinkable.

He crushed the Killing Curse in his hand, snuffing it out.

The lead Death Eater screamed again as his world was being shattered before him. Everything he'd learned about the physics of spellwork, the nature of magic—it was all being defied and destroyed by this one person before him.

Sirius paid no heed to the hysterical man, instead drawing out his dagger and placing his fingers on the blade in a half-curled position. Wind started to pick up around the dark-haired Loyalist, causing his immaculate clothing to billow violently about. A snarl made its way onto Sirius' handsome face, and a growl emanated from his throat, just as his curled fingers on his blade ground against the metal.

"Rend the flesh from his bones!" he roared, grinding his fingers along the blade.

"CERBERUS!"

"Oho?" Remus looked up towards the sky, paying no heed to the dead soldier in his grasp. "Sirius let loose," he mumbled. Could he have been in trouble? Remus snorted. As if that was possible. Sirius was more likely than not acting on the repressed rage that Remus had always theorized lay right underneath his skin.

"Something must've royally pissed him off," he mused amusedly. Realizing that he was still holding up a dead body, Remus casually tossed him aside. The body fell on top of another such corpse, the lot of them littering the ground around Remus. None of them were actual people, though, so he hadn't had much trouble with screaming or things like that.

Remus sniffed. Sirius' feel was permeating the very air. Then again, he wasn't surprised—the procedure that had been done to them…it had changed them beyond recognition. Not in terms of physical appearances—no, nothing so superficial.

Their cores, however, the place where their magical energy was stored and shaped to their desire, were irreparably changed forever. For better or worse.

Remus shot up an arm, instinctively catching a Killing Curse with ease. Even before he'd turned to look at his opponent, he had crushed the spell in his hand. "Is that it?" he asked tauntingly, a feral leer on his face. "That won't even give me a nosebleed!"

Remus whipped his other arm around and pointed a finger at the Terracotta soldier that had just attacked him. He placed his free hand on the extended arm to steady his aim, before shouting, feral leer still in place, "This is a spell! ARS NOVA DECUM! MORS…LUMINENS!"

A single, thin beam of white light shot out from the tip of his extended index finger, piercing right through the centre of the soldier's forehead and out of the back of it's skull. The soldier fell back onto the ground dead, the wound still smoking.

Remus was grinning with feral glee as he straightened back up and observed the situation around him. His Werewolves were ripping the enemy to shreds, but there were still a decent amount of them. Even with Sirius in full release taking on a decent chunk of the enemy, they would not finish until late in the evening if this kept up. Realizing what he had to do, Remus' grin lessened just a bit.

"Pity," he admitted to himself. "It was just getting fun."

Crouching slightly, Remus brought up a hand to his face and made as if to grab something invisible before it. Dark energy began to coalesce before his hand rapidly. "Time to let the wolf out to play," he mused with a dangerous smile.

"HOWL!" he roared, even as the dark energy swallowed his hand and began racing across his body, rapidly covering him up. The energy seemed to distort his appearance, changing it to a far more muscular build and making his hands more claw-like.

"FENRUS!"

Quick translations:

Ars Nova Undetricensim - 29th New Art

Mors Fulminis - Death Flash/Lightning

Ars Nova Decum - 10th New Art

Mors Luminens - Death Light