Beta's: 5/8/2015
Jennifer.
Chapter 21, The Wounded Bitch
"So Minerva completed her part. That is good for Mr. Potter. I know I feel better now that this event has come to pass. I have more than enough to be going on with at the moment without having to worry about anything else," Amelia Bones said tiredly to her guest.
The minister's office definitely showed itself to be under new management. Gone were the plush chairs and welcoming feel that resonated with the old administration. Gone as well was the sense of wealth from the room. In its place rested functional furniture and sparse decorations, with two tasteful depictions of landscapes to act as features. Also gone was Ex-Minister Fudge's opulent desk. Where it once sat now resided the same desk Amelia had used during her tenure as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. All in all Amelia was satisfied with the way the head office of the Ministry now looked.
The old furniture gave her hives and sent the wrong impression; too grandiose and self-serving. They worked for the people, not the other way around. To work in such lavish settings would definitely send the wrong impression, and so before the first day was out, she had thrown all of Fudges things out and had hers brought in. The only detraction from the look was the ancient tea service that rested on her worn desk. A family heirloom and one of the few indulgences she allowed herself. Even then, only with close associates such as the woman sitting before her.
The Dame Longbottom nodded her ancient head. At least once a week the old woman visited her to touch bases and plan strategy. "She owled me a few days ago, however prior commitments with my fellow Wizengamot Members kept me busy until today so I've been unable to update you on where we stand. Some of our number have the most ludicrous views on the war. Trying to get them to see reason is enough to drive a Bishop to kill in cold blood. I know I've been sorely tested over the last week to do that very thing, what with their ignorant views on our current situation. You would think people of our advanced years would have more sense than my Grandson's toad."
She smiled. Not a job Amelia envied by any stretch of the imagination. "Are they still trying to convince you to demand that I enroll Harry Potter into the Aurors so he can kill Voldemort?"
The elderly woman harrumphed. "Ignorance of this caliber should be punishable. Something I have been very vocal about at every meeting. How they expect the child to miracle He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named into his grave is beyond me when the boy has only just completed his O.W.L.S."
"His scores were fairly exceptional in Defense and Transfiguration." Amelia commented.
The older woman waved it off. "He is only a child and far too young for such things. Make no mistake that a miracle is what it would take for the boy to succeed. No, this war will be won by or lost by our populous resolve and our Government's willingness to see victory. Not some flighty prophecy that I am not even certain exists."
"You don't have to convince me Augusta; you know very well how I feel about that subject. If it makes you feel any better, I've had the same arguments among our department heads that you have in the Wizengamot." Amelia replied chuckling.
"Nothing about that statement makes me feel better Amelia and you know it. I half expect this sort of reaction from your common wizard or witch who are gullible enough to believe what they read in the Prophet, but from the leading body of our nation, I find it very disturbing."
Amelia decided to play devil's advocate just to irk the old woman. "You have to grant young Mr. Potter has been luckier than he has any right to boast of and a knack for living when he shouldn't that any would envy."
"Hmm, perhaps. Yes I will concede that if even half of what Neville has told me is accurate. However, both you and I know luck only gets a person so far. Sooner or later, it will run out. Any fool, who relies on it, will end up dead. I only hope we can sort out this rebellion before Mr. Potter has to be tested to such an extreme. Again. Our young people have been tested enough to just get us to this point."
Amelia nodded solemnly. "On that my friend, I wholeheartedly agree with you."
They enjoyed a few moments of silence before Dame Longbottom smiled at her, "How are you enjoying the Minister's seat?"
Amelia rolled her eyes at the dry statement. Her friend had taken to asking that question every time they were alone because she knew it riled her up. "It is every bit as detestable as I feared it would be." Pointing her finger at the woman sitting across her desk to make her point she continued, "I should have refused when you nominated me. I am not a politician."
"Pish posh, you're perfect for the job and you know it," The older woman stated while waving off her comment as she always did. "Besides, who would you rather see sitting in that chair? Scrimgeour? Please, the boy maybe ambitious, and I will grant brave, but he wouldn't be half as effective as you are. And right now we need that efficiency."
"Not that it's doing any good." Bones groused while shuffling the papers she would need for the staff meeting scheduled for later in the afternoon. "We both know that the only reason things have been quiet for the last month has more to do with the fact Voldemort hasn't done anything than any 'efficiency' on my or the ministry's part."
The older lady nodded thoughtfully while lighting her pipe once she managed to retrieve it from her handbag. After a silent moment she spoke again. "Yes, most troublesome. When he does strike,"
"And we both know he will." Amelia broke in.
Agusta nodded in agreement. "That will be the time when your regime is tested." Amelia removed her monocle and rubbed her tired eye but did not bother to reply. She was fully aware of the truth of that statement. "Do you think we will be ready when he does strike?"
"That would be the question wouldn't it?" Amelia thought for a moment taking a sip from her all but forgotten tea. "The problem with fighting terror is that you end up developing a reactionary mindset. You try and prevent as much as you can, while at the same time try to respond to events you missed to limit the damage."
"Hmmm." the older woman agreed puffing on the pipe in her mouth. She spoke around it continuing Amelia's thread. "What counter strikes you are allowed are usually just retaliation for what was done to you. All the advantage is on your opponent's side while you try and defensively out think them."
"This was our problem before," the Minister agreed. "I can see this as being our problem again. We do not want another Sirius Black on our hands. At least I should say, I don't. Such a miscarriage of justice is inexcusable. It does unfortunately limit us greatly in what we can and can't do. We will play by the rules of society, where our opposition most certainly will not."
Longbottom nodded. "It is unfortunate that Voldemort isn't going to oblige us by bringing all his people to bare for his coup to take the Ministry so we might have a battle to decide who leads."
The Minister snorted. "Even if he did, I can't say we could field enough personnel to fight with any guarantee of success since we have no knowledge of what his man power base is. Based on his prior tactics I would say he will raise the terror level to hysterical levels. Hit and run raids, assassinations, and good old fashion random killings in public places or places people inherently believe to be 'safe'."
"If he keeps to old patterns then we can expect more than a few of those to happen in the muggle world in order to keep us busy and spread too thin to be effective where it will count later."
"Agreed. Slowly over this year he will sow chaos, destruction, and death across all sections of the country. Doing so will allow him to cow the populace into inaction. Something he has been unable to do so far but unless something changes and soon, he will. The events of the summer will fade eclipsed by his coming victories."
Amelia took a sip to wash down the bitter pill she was describing. "Once the common man has been sufficiently terrified into inaction, he will concentrate on raids where our Aurors arrive just in time to deal with the tail end of his attacks."
"Yes, I remember this. Frank recognized this pattern for what it was last time. This would afford him the opportunity to take down our Aurors piecemeal."
"If even one is lost it would be a victory for him. It takes us four years to effectively train our Aurors and at least two of that is spent in the Academy. He doesn't care so long as his recruits can throw unforgivables or other dark and destructive curses."
Agusta sighed. "So his recruitment abilities will result in far more success than ours."
Amelia nodded grimly. "Assuming he doesn't began targeting our Aurors in their homes,"
"Which, again, he will in time."
"Then we will run out of qualified personnel by this time next year. Perhaps a bit longer with some luck. The truth of the situation is we just don't have enough people. Even increasing our defense budget for more Aurors, Hit Wizards, or just Enforcement personnel isn't enough. It will be years before they are effective. We just don't have enough time to gain an advantage in that area."
"We might have if Fudge had listened to Harry Potter last year, but there is nothing that can be done about it now Amelia. No good crying over spilt potion."
"Meanwhile I have no doubt sympathizers as well as coerced or impervioused personnel in the Ministry will be slowly converted to his cause granting him an ever increasing foothold until he finishes me off as he intended to do this summer. I would imagine my successor will be too weak to deal with him effectively and therefore would be dispatched even faster than I will be, or they will be his puppet effectively giving him control of our world."
"Dark days…" muttered the elderly woman before her through a cloud of foul smelling smoke. Amelia smiled grimly in response. She was, and always would be a realist and the situation was indeed dire. "So then we have this year to make a difference. What happens to us if he changes tactics? What do you think will happen if he does decide to strike quickly at the heart of us? If he does, where do you think likely for him to strike?"
Amelia didn't show any emotion to the questions. "An assault on the Ministry itself is something I can't see him doing."
"True. It's too direct and he doesn't have any more guarantee of victory than we do."
"An all-out strike at Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, or Hogwarts however would be a catastrophe for us for various reasons. However, the way I see it, he wouldn't dare attack Hogwarts."
"Hmmm yes. Dumbledore aside, even his people have children at school there. It would cost him too much support. The same for Hogsmeade. Too close to Hogwarts and there is always the possibility of hurting some of his supporters children."
"Exactly. No, I can't see him attacking there. It would cost him far too much in the long run. Far more than he could ever gain."
"Then if he does, it will be Diagon Alley."
Amelia nodded grimly. "Diagon Alley."
XxXDARXxX
Paul Watson exited the pub into Diagon Alley proper. As usual people moved about in their packs, what few of them there were, while shysters hawked wares guaranteed to protect them from various dark creatures. He checked his pocket watch for the third time and hurried his pace. He only had twenty minutes of his lunch break left and he would rather be working in his miniscule cubicle in the Department of Regulations than here. Since the Ministry declared You-Know-Who returned the atmosphere of the alley could give Azkaban a run for its gold as the most depressing place to be in the world.
He cursed obscenely when after he navigated the dank atmosphere he came to the boarded up shop front for Wilkins Weird Cures to All Ailments. Now where was he going to find extract from a furry knuckle wankbiter? The Healer at St. Mungo's assured him this was about the only place to find it. He didn't need this today. With his wife's sudden interest in muggle clothing, specifically something called 'spandex' and the workload his supervisor dumped on his desk this morning he already had more than enough to be going on with than tracking down some obscure cure to his son's sudden and inexplicable hairy palm problem.
He turned from the cobweb infested building to look down the street in both directions. He might find something in Knockturn Alley but only a fool walked down those unguarded streets these days. After a few moments of indecision Paul decided he was not indeed a fool nor was he brave enough to venture into the dark marketplace even if he wanted to be. The middle aged man decided he would just ask one of the other Apothecary owners if they knew where he could go to acquire his sons cure when a sudden scream robbed all such thoughts from him.
With wide eyes Paul looked down the street to where he heard the scream. There walking at the head of a small mob of masked black robed men was the very embodiment of evil. Lord Voldemort exited Knockturn Alley as if he was a king returning home while his people rained curses at anything that moved and destroying everything they passed.
All thoughts of spandex and furry knuckle wankbiters left his head while he stood petrified. He never even moved when the curse flew past him and into the empty shop he came here to visit. He never felt himself being thrown through the air when it exploded. He only barely registered before everything went black Death Eaters taking up positions around the steps of Gringotts while the Dark Lord began hammering the great doors with magic the likes of which Paul had only read about while ghostly forms flew overhead.
XxXDARXxX
Around him thirty of his Death Eaters marched. As was his right by magic, he strode at the head of the gathering. Had he been a lesser man, he would have dutifully followed the lead of the strongest as was proper and worn the mask of his fellows. However, this was not the case and it was high time the people of the wizarding world remembered what it meant to live with the knowledge that he, Lord Voldemort, was the strongest.
He set their pace for which could only be described as leisurely. There was no hurry after all, their target wasn't going anywhere. As they strode through the chaos around them he couldn't help but take a moment to truly absorb all the sensations that flowed around him. A month of planning was coming to fruition and such things deserved to be memorized, if not memorialized.
Explosions pounded into his senses. Screams poured into his ears eagerly welcomed the way a lonely man would welcome a long lost lovers whispers. A deep inhaled breath brought the smells of charred flesh and blood to him. The scents so thick in the air he walked he could taste them. Fear, pain, death, and magic so ambient he could feel it along his skin. He strode through the carnage his soldiers surrounded him with soaking it all in. So rarely since his disembodiment had he felt so alive.
He watched lazily as some ministry worker was thrown from an exploding storefront. His ragdoll descent was not quite as amusing to the Dark Lord as the family of four herded down the street by three of his newest trying to see who could get a killing curse closest without dropping one of them. A smile unbidden slowly formed on his face when the mother fell to the laughter and heckling of the losers two mates. Had she not tried to shield the youngest neither would have been stuck but such was the foolishness of the weak.
Far too quickly for his tastes they arrived. As he looked to the white marble edifice before him he turned his thoughts to the task at hand.
"Lucius."
"My Lord?" came his subordinate's immediate reply.
"Begin."
Voldemort turned his attention from his lieutenants' directing of his forces into entrenching at the base of the stairs to the building before him. Once in his youth the great bank held a fascination with him. An embodiment of the Wizarding world run by a subservient race of lesser creatures as was proper. In those youthful days he envied those who held accounts within the great vaults of the structure. For only such men from whom the all-powerful gift of magic flowed would ever have such privilege. Such a location of power was a perfect place to store one of his vessels.
However, circumstances had changed. After his unexpected debilitation during the Bones Mission he had sought out his old hiding places. It disturbed him greatly that someone might, no matter how remote, have discovered the existence of his anchors. It was only prudent to seek them out and ascertain if anyone had tampered with any of them. What he had found was beyond disturbing.
Someone, this Two Mauls who bypassed his Occlumency shields perhaps, did indeed discover them.
His Grandfather's ring was gone from his ancestral home, as was the Slytherin's Locket which he had hidden in the secret cove of his pre-enlightenment days. He had already known of the Diary's destruction for some time so he had no other recourse but to assume the knowledge of his creation of Horacruxes was known to someone and that someone was targeting them.
Of the three left to him this one was the only one in any real danger, which was what brought him here. After all, there was no possible way anyone would find the one he hid at Hogwarts. The likelihood of such a thing was beyond remote. No, only the Cup was at risk now. With this attack he would achieve several goals. The most vulnerable of his anchors would be secured. The damage to the alley and to the bank would send the Ministry's economy into a deep spiral of ruin. This reminder of his power will crush this fledgling belief in his vinceablilty.
A holding action such as this was always a risk however his people were more than up to the task. When the Aurors finally show themselves they will face his Death Eaters who were more than up to the task of holding them at bay while he tore down the wards. Hopefully thinning out their ranks in the process. His people after all were not concerned with prisoners on this operation. Then he and his inner circle of most trusted Death Eaters will enter the bank blasting a hole so deep it will forever be burned into the racial memory of the wizarding world. Never again will any soul in existence doubt the supreme power he wielded.
I will make sure of that. He thought to himself as he gathered all of his substantial power about him and began dismantling the wards.
XxXDARXxX
He watched the young woman at the helm of his ship. Mostly because he knew it flustered her something fierce. Her thin but surprisingly strong arms gripped the helm while her eyes darted about looking at things he couldn't see. While holding his staff he could easily access the magic's she was attuned but restrained himself. Lisa may have been young but she had proven she was more than competent in handling the old race-built galleon. By looking out into the dense fog that was their cover to hide them from the muggles he could tell their course was steadily holding at just at a thousand feet. He allowed a nod in satisfaction when she gave a slight turn of the wheel which allowed them to move due west to avoid the projected flight path of one of the muggle planes in the distance.
"You're doing a fine job Lisa. I'll make a Sailing Mistress out of you yet." He praised her. She was more than a worthy replacement for Old Winston. Just untried in combat. Winston recommended her when he retired and so far nothing in her performance showed itself to be against it. Raze ignored the unprofessional blush on Lisa's cheeks and turned his attention to the man walking toward him from the bow of the ship.
Once his second in command got close enough he found out what had his friend in such a sour mood this close to the end of their voyage. "Raze, something's going on in the Alley."
Raze tried to hide his smile. Robert was a good kid who was also the first wizard he trained in the art of wild magic. Up until Harry Potter and Hermione Granger showed up to be trained, he was the strongest of any who came after him. "Can you tell what?"
"Not from this distance." Robert replied as he raised the spyglass in his hands back to his eye. "It's a battle for sure, but I can't see who is doing what. If I had to guess, I'd say there's a team of people down there trying to breach a set of very old and powerful wards. I can see flashes of what looks like wards breaking. I think whoever it is doing it is trying to create a cascade breach."
Raze moved next to Robert against the railing. He thumped the butt of his staff into the deck once before letting it go to hover in place on its own. Once Robert handed over the glass he raised it to his good eye to see the disturbance for himself. His chuckles a few moments later caused the eyebrow of the man beside him to raise in question.
"It's Voldemort." he answered the silent question. "The Fates smile upon us my friend. We won't have to wait to pit our metal against his." He closed the spy glass still chuckling to himself. Raze didn't acknowledge Roberts anxiety over the bloodthirsty look on his face. "Wake up the Ground Crew, they'll have work to do shortly. Get Master Gunner Briggs to make ready the guns and crews. Once Lisa has us in position I want them lay down a spread of cannon shot into the enemy ranks. Keep the guns spouting until we have driven them from battlefield. I want you in charge on board while they do that."
"You're leading the ground forces?"
"Hmmm. There are a lot of old faces, so to speak, from the last war down there. Gibbons among them."
"How can you tell that from here? They all look the same and their wearing masks."
Raze was quite a few moments. "When you cross wands with people enough times you don't need to see their faces to know who they are. People are creatures of habit. Especially modern wizards. We all have favorite patterns, spells or a way of moving. I would know Gibbon's any where. I will admit it is rather anticlimactic however. I was looking forward to hunting him down, but this will do. I'm sure there will be no shortages of enemy once the battle is joined. Now or in the future."
Raze opened the glass again and watched while Voldemort tore down the wards that surrounded Gringotts. It was incredible how much magic he was pouring into the effort. It arced from his body outward giving him a multi armed demonic appearance. This was truly a great magical feat of awe inspiring proportions. Raze knew from personal experience wielding the chaotic energies that in essence was Wild Magic the effort it would take for magic to arc off oneself. This display Voldemort was putting on for the populous of Diagon Alley who happened to be brave enough to watch was truly incredible. It would make Razes victory in this engagement that much more spectacular when he succeeded.
If he succeeded.
Raze closed the spyglass again. If Voldemort managed to get into the bank it would be a great blow to the Ministry. The economy would be in disarray, goblin and wizard relations would degrade, and not to mention what the success alone would do for the villains cause. However as powerful as the Dark Lord was such a venture took time to achieve and very few places boosted wards of the like that Gringotts held. It would buy them enough time to get into position. Already he could hear his people running to and fro. Below decks he could hear the frantic shouting of his gun crews loading and rolling out the long guns preparing for their attack. The drills of the last week paying off a lot sooner than he had expected. He could taste the change in Britain's fortunes. A more fitting homecoming he could not have planned himself.
By the time Lisa brought the ship to their one hundred feet cruising level they had almost reached their destination. Standing tall on the deck ready to leap into the fires of hell stood ten of his apprentices. His ground team. All of whom have proven their mettle was greater than any crucible they have been tested in before. There existed no others in the entire world who he would rather go into battle with. Technically they were all masters in their fields with two apprentices each of their own, but one of the perks of being at the top of the hierarchy was everyone below you would always be your novice.
"Who's like us!?"
The small assembly all yelled back, "Damn Few, and they're all dead!"
Raze nodded. "In a few moments we're going to be dropping into Diagon Alley. The enemy has set his sights on the great marble bank in the center. I don't intend to allow him the courtesy of seeing the lobby."
Johnson, another long timer of his conclave spoke out. "How do you want us to play this Boss?"
"Cautiously. Remember, Rule One, Our lives are not negotiable. At the end of the day, win or lose, we are alive to seek glory another day. The enemy has erected fortifications and entrenched their position. Death Eaters never held back in the last war, I can't see them changing that much today. So, the order of the day, smash the area until nothing moves. Leave no stone unscorched."
"The ship will be laying down cannon fire and deck crews will also be lending their support overhead. We can make reparations later to Gringotts or other shop owners whose property we damage but we cannot allow the enemy to succeed in whatever his plans are here. Clear?"
They chorused. "Yes Sir!"
"Also, as a bonus, I'm looking for a man in that crowd. His name is Gibbons. White, brutal looking fellow with dark hair in his late forties. Your weight in gold as bounty to whomever brings me his head."
From the front of the small crowd Raze nodded to the swarthy Hispanic whom raised his hand to ask a question. "Ah, his actual head?" Snickers and muffled laughter broke of the others while Raze fought to hold back the smile that was forming on his own face. The man looked around half bashful. "I just don't want no confusions later jefe."
His laughter got the better of him as he took two steps to place his hands on the man's shoulders. He was always shy and unsure in everyday life but in the heat of battle the man was a demon to give old Faust a run for his money. "Anything Miguel. Bring me anything."
Miguel nodded shyly assured. His group turned to Lisa when she shouted loud enough to break into their laughter. "ETA five minutes! We're going to be breaking out of the cloud cover in in three!"
Raze walked toward Robert raising his hand. His staff which was left to float across the ship leaped from its position returning to his hand pulsing once it made contact with his flesh. At the flash Robert turned around accepting the staff from him and command of the ship.
"Keep her safe. Good luck."
Robert nodded gravely. "It's not me you need to worry about Raze. This isn't one of your constructed quests in Magnadane. That's not a party of Fey down there pretending to be some of your fantasy monsters. That's Voldemort and he is going to be pissed we're interfering in his plans. You want to worry about something, worry about that. We'll be fine up here."
Raze chuckled. "It's not like we haven't made similar runs before Robert."
"Against wannabes yeah, we have. But we've never gone against anyone of this caliber before. Just be careful Raze or this is going to be the shortest campaign in our history."
"Alright," Raze laughed holding up his hands. "just try not to hit us with the ship's guns then."
As he turned away he heard Robert's reply causing him to laugh again. "No promises now that I have a taste for it. Besides, a guy could get used to this Captain stuff."
"You counsel me to be careful then tell me you plan to aim for me?"
"If anyone's going to be responsible for killing you Raze, it's going to be me. I'll not have you cheat me out of the pleasure before I get around to it."
Laughing he rejoined his people at the railing of the ship. Lisa must have canceled the concealment enchantments because the fog around them was thinning quickly. What it must look like to the dizentens below... he thought to himself. Raze could just imagine some brave soul below watching the battle between the few Aurors on site trying to breach the fortifications the Death Eaters have erected and Voldemort's forces. The spell fire racing back and forth along the alleys streets while in the background Voldemort himself wrestling with the mighty wards protecting the marble bank.
Looking to the bow of the ship Raze watched the end of the fog line roll across the deck of the ship quickly sweeping past where he stood. The noise volume on deck lowered significantly as everyone got their first look at the war torn visage before them. They were still outside the wards so no one could hear anything but the visual before them left little to the imagination. The scene was not far from what he was envisioning.
Aside from his team and a few others this was their first time seeing the realities of war outside of Magnadane. Even when he got the few requests that were made by the American Federal Department of Arcane Defense he rarely took out the full crew. Usually when the AFDA needed something from him the less witnesses the better.
Raze hummed to himself. The sight before him wasn't much different than it was before he left England all those years ago. He'd been in more than a few scraps in these crowded streets in those days. Diagon Alley was a favorite strike zone anytime the Dark Lord suffered a serious set back. Raze's eyes looked to Lisa as she gave the wheel a slight turn to the left. He gripped the railing more firmly.
The rest of the crew barely had time to grab a hold of something when she shouted "Brace yourselves!"
The bow dipped sharply before great ship gave a violent jerk to the right to match the frantic turning at the helm. Raze held onto the railing with most of the ground crew as the galleon seemed to spin on its tail perfectly bracketing their objective for the port side guns. Before the first cannon could respond to Robert's command to fire, much less for the ship to come to a complete stop, Raze had already thrown himself overboard.
Halfway into his descent he thrust his hands downward directing his magic to create a column of air to keep the cobblestones from killing him. Around him dropped several others while the rest fell onto the rooftops above them. As they rushed down the street he could tell they had managed to turn Voldemort's attention from breaking the wards to helping his people defend against the sudden onslaught from the ship. Twenty Forty-Two pound cannons have a tendency to do that.
Cutting curses he recognized, and some he didn't flew past him as he closed the distance. Reductors, killing and pain curses rained upward to the roofs on either side of him and down the street adding counterpointed explosions to the sounds of his cannons and the screams of the living. Raze dodged those he could and blocked those he couldn't by pulling stone obstacles from the street ahead to intercept the enemy spell fire. He easily could see at least four Aurors, most likely the Diagon Alley guard, fighting back from what cover they could find or conjure. He shook his head at them throwing stunning spells, incapasitors, and shield breakers.
He passed a line of hunkered down Aurors at a sprint holding out his hand creating a ball of fire. With a throw that would have made any Major League pitcher proud, he hurled it deep into the entrenchment before him. He watched with glee when the small burning ball exploded outward engulfing several Death Eaters lighting their black robes afire. Bolts of lighting, cones of frozen ice chips flying faster than the eye could see, as well of lances of fire burst from his people further adding to the carnage. 'The Mist', as he called it, waft from their forms as they called upon and employed their chaotic spells.
By the time he cast his third spell the air was saturated with small wild magic eddies they all had to avoid hitting when picking their targets. One of the Death Eaters not knowing to do so learned the hard way why when the eddie erupted into a violent backlash that caused the man's spell to backfire. The resulting wild magic surge caused a column of fire to race skyward from under his feet almost certainly killing him. However, this fight was by no means one sided.
The rain of spell fire being returned kept them from advancing any further than the apex where the alley split to either side of the bank for several moments. Voldemort was busy single handedly holding the shields against the ships onslaught which left more than enough room for his people to counter their attack. No mean feat by any stretch of the imagination.
Raze dove behind a fallen bit of stonework to get away from several arcs of eldritch fire. As he assessed his condition he sighed. The rouge was really hoping that the ships guns would have drawn more of the defenders attention. It was a testament to the Dark Lords power that he could hold against it alone for so long. Raze knew he couldn't have. He tried a few times for sport but his record was only five minutes. Voldemort has been holding for twice that long and was still going strong. He ripped the sleeve of his tunic off to use as a bandage for the wound on his leg as he planned his next move.
He reached up the bone necklace that hung around his neck activating the communication charm it was enchanted with. He leaned out of his cover a bit to get a good look at their defenses. "Hacker, Mace, Santa on me. The rest of you I want to lay down as much covering fire as you can to buy us the few seconds we'll need to breach their fortifications!"
Raze waited for a few moments before breaking cover. A storm of spells flew down from his people on the rooftops successfully pinning the enemy for the critical moments needed. As he ran he opened himself to the Arcanum for one of his specialty spells. With a forward thrust of his palm he sent forth a burst of techni colored spheres into the enemy ranks.
Each burst into a wild magic eddie, but unlike those accidentally created by his people, these surged as soon as the bubbles burst. Suddenly he was running through a hail of partially cooked Cornish hens and he could hear Bach playing all about them. The building behind him decided to collapse on its own while all manner of random happenings took place. Spells flew randomly deflected for no known reason, explosions, chaos, clouds of butterflies and bursts of different colored lights that strobed inside wisps of smoke dominated the battlefield.
As he ran Raze created a stone staff leaping over the cover Death Eaters had summoned for their defense laughing madly the entire way. His downward swing shattered the man's bone mask as if it was cheap plastic while his second swing sent his mate flying to the street Raze just crossed. The other three who ran with him into the fray each took out one as they too arrived. Raze was summoning a second dose of wild magic when suddenly a concussion of air struck him sending him down the street as if he was nothing more than a piece of litter in the wind.
His return to consciousness was a mildly horrible experience. He groaned groggily before he began trying to extract himself from underneath what appeared to be several shelves of palm sized boxes. "Reusable Hangman... Spell it or He'll Swing..." There were hundreds of little boxes labeled with Patented Daydream Charms, Skiving Snackboxes, and half a dozen other strange contents. What a strange shop…
"Hello now, what have we here."
"Dunno dear brother, but it appears that it was a body that broke our storefront, not debris from the battle. Give us a hand then, let us have a look at him and figure out if he's a Death Eater or one of the other guys."
A tall redheaded teen knelt beside him helping him get free as well as sit up. "Right mess you are, flying through our shop window like that. Can you tell us your name?"
Raze shook his head to clear his vision. Even after a moment letting the pain settle he was still seeing two of whomever was helping him. "Yes, not an experience I would recommend for pleasure to be sure." He scrunched his eyes one more time to try and reset his vision. when he opened them the room had stopped spinning and all the images seemed to settle into just the one that existed except for the boy helping him. "My name is Raze. My compliments on the structural integrity of your shop sir. I find myself still seeing double from my battle with it."
He frowned when the image on the right smiled while the one on the left laughed. Granted he wasn't a doctor or healer but he was pretty sure the images shouldn't do that.
"None of that 'sir' stuff my good man. As for your seeing double mate, then your visions fine. Twins. I am Fred Weasley, and that handsome devil to your right, is my brother George."
Raze pulled himself to his feet with his the twins help. After a moment for the dizziness to pass he made for the door. "A pleasure gentlemen." He looked around the demolished alley. It was crowded with blue cloaked Aurors talking to people. He couldn't see any of his ground team from here. "I take it we carried the day?"
One of the twins stepped next to him. "O Moldyshorts did a runner right after he put you through our window."
"Wicked exit. One thing our resident Dark Lord is good at, its dramatic entrances and exits. Tore through the anti portkey wards as if they didn't exist."
"Ahh, good. Then I didn't miss much of the fight."
Ignoring the amused looks on the twins faces Raze began slowly walking down the alley. The steps of Gringotts and the surrounding sections of the Alley looked like stills taken from bombed cities during World War II. The only difference was these shell shocked civilians looked pleased with the outcome. all things considered casualties looked light to what he expected. That pleased him greatly. If nothing else they made that much of a difference. Raze didn't spot any of his people until he arrived at the intersection in front of the bank. Six of them stood or sat on fallen masonry on the other side of the street under an Auror Guard of at least a dozen. They all smiled warmly as they watched him approach.
Gloria Richardson, or Mace as she was affectionately known was smiling the biggest. She was sporting a fresh gash across her forehead as well as several along her right arm. "Pay up. I told you he wouldn't be that badly hurt."
While his people good naturally passed coins over to her Raze smiled. He moved passed the stationed Aurors nodding as he sat on a bit of stonework. "I take it the Aurors have asked us to wait here to be interviewed?"
His other team lead Thomas answered his question. "Interrogated more like. Only the ship has kept them from being too nasty."
"Can't say I'd blame them Hacker. We weren't exactly invited to this little party." John stated.
Gloria threw in her two bits laughing while pocketing her winnings. "Maybe they just didn't like the presents you brought Santa."
Raze looked upward to the floating ship still hanging static over the alley. He wasn't the only one sending looks upward either. Half the residents sent fugitive looks. The Auror's however kept shooting them looks as if they couldn't decide if they were friend or foe. It was good to see some things never changed. "She is a rather intimidating sight isn't she? Did we lose anyone?"
John shook his shaggy brown hair. "No losses but we have four wounded from the ground team and about ten on the ship. Some of those Death Eaters had sharp eyes. Robert said that two of them though might have been from exhaustion. M.U.T.E.S."
Raze nodded. Brave souls all but most of the ship's crew were not very magically powerful. That wouldn't have stopped them from pushing themselves hard to do their parts however. Good people. "So where did you lot end up?"
John reported he was blown backward, Gloria, like him, was thrown into a building across the alley, while Thomas was barely missed hitting the haul of the ship. Before he could describe the unique store front he ended up in Miguel walked up to him half holding up a nondescript looking fellow.
"Jefe, this is Senior Watson."
Raze nodded curiously at the pale man Miguel presented to him. He cut his eyes to Miguel raising an eyebrow to prompt him into explaining further.
"During the battle he was hiding in the same building I was. One of the Death Eaters tried rushing us trying to break part of our firing line. The man managed to knock me down. As he was about to finish me off, Senior Watson here jumped him. Bashed his head in with a broken support stud. It was Senior Gibbons."
Raze smiled warmly to the frighten and obviously shocked man in front of him. "I see. Mr. Watson you have my thanks. Before we arrived I placed a bounty on Gibbon's head. Tonight when we have our victory feast I would like you to sit at my right. There you can regale us with the tale of your victory over the villain. Bring your family so they too may know of your bravery and prowess. Afterward, I will make sure you receive your weight in gold coins as bounty for this deed you have done for me."
The man sputtered as he nodded to his offer. Miguel smiling at his new friend helped him walk further down the alley where several healers were tending to some of the wounded citizenry. Raze chuckled amused while shaking his head. His revenge may not have been at his own hand, but this was just as sweet. Raze nodded to Robert whom he noticed was walking toward him while his people chuckled at the belated description of the shop he found himself in. Robert stopped before them giving him a once over before flipping a coin Gloria's way. The redheaded firebrand caught it easily with smile a mile wide. It would seem she did well this round.
"Ministers here wanting to talk to the leader of our merry band of vigilantes. Should be here in a bit. She thought I was you when I jumped down to see if there was anything we could do to help out around here."
"Ah, well I hope she has a better disposition than Bagnold did. A fine Minister to be sure but if there was one thing both sides agreed on, it was that neither liked her. The woman could drive a Buddhist Monk to murder with her personality."
Robert chuckled but didn't comment. None of them knew much about England or its magical government but anyone who could drive Raze into a fit of annoyance must have been some personality. His eyes caught something behind Raze which caused him to straighten up. "And here she is now. Madam Minister, allow me to introduce..."
The ministers shock voice interrupted. "Sebastian?"
Raze tensed. Dreading confirmation but being unable to not seek it he turned slowly. Upon seeing it was who he thought it was he stood smiling broadly holding his arms wide open. "Amy..."
He was completely unprepared for the slap he received. His head rocked to the left. "All things considered I'm not sure I deserved that..."
This time his head rocked to the right. He could hear muffled chuckling from his team at this unique spectacle. He couldn't help but chuckle with them while he slowly brought himself to face his attacker again. "Ahh, I might have deserved that one." He gave the Minister a thorough once over. "You look good Amelia."
The woman before him was practically shaking in fury. Her aides stood uneasy behind her which told him this was completely uncharacteristic of their boss. Obviously none of them knew her in her youth. It took Amelia several moments for her to speak again. "And you look good for a corpse that was buried almost fourteen years ago."
"Yes well, rumors of my demise might have be slightly exaggerated."
"I found your body! I buried you myself Sebastian!"
"Ah, yes well perhaps greatly exaggerated might have been a better description. It was actually quite the feat Amy. It required..."
"You insufferable bastard, you had better explain to me what you are doing in a battle in Diagon Alley instead the coffin I buried in Glasgow."
Raze gave a booming laugh. "Why, I've come to save the day Milady. Who did you expect to show up to take on Voldemort? Harry Potter?"
His smile got wider when the Ministry personnel sans Amelia flinched at the name of their nemesis. He leaned slightly into the hostile visage of the woman in front of him. "A good kid, and that lady of his, I wouldn't recommend upsetting her delicate sensibilities. Your Ms. Granger has a wicked repertoire of spells and a knack for using them well beyond what you would expect for her years. I made the unfortunate decision to play a prank on her once. Between you and me Amy, I still can't figure out how she managed to turn the ship pink or for the cannons to shoot lilies instead of cannon balls. It took me a week to fix it."
Amelia ignored his last comments for the moment. "I take it that the Marie Celeste is yours then? An appropriate vessel for a dead man."
Raze looked up to the great ship floating above them fondly while ignoring her jibe. He knew this reunion wouldn't go well by any means. Not that she wasn't justified in her anger. On the contrary, she was more than justified but the streets of Diagon Alley wasn't the place for going over it. By this time the guns were stowed and someone had weighed anchor next to the bank. It made an impressive sight floating there with the bow facing the Leaky Cauldron. The figurehead of the enraged woman holding sentry over the alley and her populous.
"I actually considered naming her that when I finished building her. However, such a vessel as she is, being modeled after the great HMS Revenge herself, I decided on a more fitting name. Amelia, may I present The Wounded Bitch. And here is most of my ground team..."
Unnoticed until the man spoke, an agitated aid broke into their conversation. "Um, Minister a delegation of goblins have emerged from Gringotts and want to speak with you."
His smiling face turned back to Amelia. Her eye twitching and her fury unabated. He didn't move when she closed the distance between them. Her low voice spoken so that only the two of them could hear her words. However, she made no effort to disguise her obvious anger.
"We are going to finish this conversation soon. Your people caused a lot of damage to the alley and we are going to discuss how they can fix it. In addition we will discuss how you know Mr. Potter as well as what you are doing alive, much less here. Then we are going to discuss why that figurehead looks suspiciously like me. Your answers had better be good Sebastian. If not when I am done with you, you will wish you were buried in Glasgow. "
Raze smiled widely when she raised her voice. "Shacklebolt!"
The reply was immediate. "Ma'am?"
"See to it that Mr. Saberhagen and his people are comfortable here but do not let them leave until I tell you differently. Should they decide to attempt to leave without authorization you have my permission to spear Mr. Saberhagen's testicles to the street in order to keep him right where he is until I find the time to deal with him."
Not missing a beat the tall dark skin man nodded to the order with a crisp "Yes Ma'am." Only the slight twitch of his lips gave away his amusement at the sight of the flustered Minister. Without a further word the Minister herself turned away leaving her aides to hurry after her as she made her way to the goblin delegation. Raze took several steps forward to stand next to he man she called Shacklebolt watching her leave. A slightly cloudy look in his eyes as he was half lost in old memories of their shared youth.
"Isn't she magnificent..." He muttered lustfully.
Laughter from those of his people close enough to hear erupted around him.
Author's Notes
Okay, Chapter Twenty-one revision is done. For those of you interested in the story instead of my drivel, by all means leave a review telling me what you think of this chapter, and then hit that 'Next' button. Enjoy the read. As always thank you to all reviews and readers. You are noticed and appreciated.
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