A/N: Time to see what's going on outside of Britain. The death toll is rising elsewhere...
The three wizards advanced cautiously towards the closed door of their target's room. For a while now they'd been stalking him, making sure that when the time came they were ready to strike, and now the message to go ahead had been given. While normally they wouldn't worry with a three-to-one advantage, despite living in a run down inn this guy was not to be taken lightly. Vampires were deadly as sin, a fact very few people were able to pass on. Though the mess usually left behind carried its own message.
The wizard in the lead glanced at the others to reaffirm that they were ready, before kicking open the door and immediately casting a Shrapnel Spell. As was its function the spell reduced the bed to splinters which launched themselves across the – completely empty – room. A room which definitely didn't contain any vampires. Outside the doorway, the others shared a glance of concern. Well, one of them did – the other was slightly busy dying from a slit throat.
The vampire leapt out of the shadows it had been hiding in with its bloodstained claws outstretched and its gleaming fangs bared, knocking the second wizard to the ground. Spinning round, the leader fired a cutting curse at the vampire that would have decapitated it had it not looked up just in time for the spell to take out its eyes. Hissing in pain the vampire staggered backwards, allowing the leader's follow up spell to neatly sever head from body.
"You okay?" he asked his friend, who was sitting up painfully.
"Yeah, damn thing just stabbed my shoulders with its claws." replied the other. "It killed Richie though." He eyed the growing pool of blood from the third member of their team.
"Well, that makes it easier to stage the evidence. We just dump the official's body here too, and it looks like they worked together to attack the vamp."
"Alright. What was the activation word again?"
"Carnage."
"Gotcha."
The two wizards set to work organising the scene exactly how they had been told to.
In another seedy establishment, this time a pub that asked no questions and kept no secrets, a hooded figure by the bar was growing steadily more annoyed by the man next to him, whose reaction to alcohol was to grow ever more talkative and deafeningly loud. At last he turned and snarled, "Will you shut up? Not everyone wants to hear your aggravating talk."
"Don't you talk to me like that! I'll do what I please, if you like it or not."
The rest of the pub fell silent, aghast that this newcomer was really stupid enough to talk back to Zal. The hooded man stilled.
"Is that so?" he whispered quietly. With exaggerated slowness he lowered his hood, smiling a fanged smile as he did so.
"L-listen, just 'cause you're a vampire don't mean I'm gonna bend over and do what you say!" There was a definite downswing in bravado, but when Zal didn't immediately gut him the man seemed to take heart. "I've heard about you vampires, all talk and no bite." The man laughed at his own joke. No-one else did.
"You'd better watch your tone." Warned the vampire softly.
"Is that a threat?" challenged the drunk.
Zal opened his mouth to reply, before ducking and pushing off from the bar counter, sending his stool clattering to the floor and successfully avoiding the cutting curse cast at him from behind. The two hitwizards hired to kill him were caught off guard by his speed; the one who had been pretending to be drunk was downed by his partner's curse, and the one who cast the cutting curse was skewered on Zal's claws before he could do anything else.
"Fools." muttered Zal. "As if I didn't notice you draw your wand behind my back. They could at least send someone competent to kill me."
Sighing, he decided it would be best to return to the Sect. He was obliged to check whether any other recruiters had been attacked, as the wizards tended to try and exterminate vampires every few years. Obviously, they had yet to succeed.
Monsieur Delacour looked up from where he and his family were eating as the wards warned him of potential intruders. As he certainly hadn't scheduled the arrival of five people not keyed in to the wards, he doubted that this was merely a social call. More likely it was a group of wizards that were a little too drunk and had decided to teach him why he shouldn't marry a half-breed – not a common occurrence, but certainly not as rare as he would have liked it to be. Standing, he told his wife as much, and went to open the front door and give the bigots a piece of his mind. To his horror, he found five wizards wearing silver masks outside his property. Seeing them, and knowing what the significance of the mask was, Delacour attempted to slam the door, but the masked wizards were faster and a green curse collided with his chest.
Gabrielle screamed as her father crumpled, clearly dead. Apolline grabbed her daughter and tried to apparate, and when that didn't work she lunged for the floo powder. A spell blasted her away from it as the Death Eaters filed in, jeering at their helpless victims.
A large group of cloaked people strolled happily down a burning street, the screams of the dying music to their ears. It had been a long time since the Americas had seen witch burnings, but wizards had long memories. There was a kind of poetic justice about the Muggles being the ones burned alive.
Loud sirens cut through the air as a large red contraption roared up to the flames, followed by two smaller white vehicles. More Muggles got out, providing the Death Eaters with fresh targets. The fire engine went up in a ball of flame as the new arrivals panicked at the scene, falling quickly to various curses. Suddenly there was a loud bang as the Death Eater closest to them fell to the ground. Three more died as the rest looked for their assailant, finally pinning it on the Muggles in front of them who were apparently more dangerous than anticipated. In the time it took to banish a car into them the police officers had shot two more Death Eaters, and when more sirens sounded over a rapid-fire sequence of cracks the Death Eaters hurriedly made their escape, leaving the members of MACUSA to salvage the situation as best as they could.
The Prime Minister of Britain watched as his magical counterpart stepped out of the fire, followed by a man with more scars than he would have thought possible.
"Who's he?"
"Alastor Moody." Scrimgeour replied. "The best Auror in all of Britain. Now where is Sirius Black?"
Straight to the point. Thought the Prime Minister. Aloud he asked, "First, explain to me why I shouldn't have him and his colleagues tried for terrorist activities, multiple counts of murder and extensive damage to both public and private property."
"I explained to you previously that he was innocent of the crime he was accused of." Scrimgeour reminded him.
"I'm not talking about that, he was arrested for the attack on London that occurred only a few hours ago."
"Who else was arrested?" demanded Moody.
"Apparently, two men named Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore. There is also Mr. Travers, whose first name is unknown, that was found in a coma, and a Mr. Jugson currently in hospital for severe burns that we think is also involved."
"Well, you got two of them right." The Auror granted.
"Travers and Jugson are Death Eaters, part of the group responsible for the attack." Explained Scrimgeour. "Black and the two Dumbledores were there to stop them."
"Well then they did a terrible job!" yelled the Prime Minister. "Skyscrapers toppled, lots of people dead or missing, a bridge destroyed-"
"Be grateful that was all." Interrupted Scrimgeour.
"All? We're dealing with mass panic out there! A terrorist attack in the middle of London!"
"They had a giant." Stated Moody. "If Dumbledore hadn't showed up there would have been a lot more damage."
"So who is he anyway? One of your Orus?"
"Aurors." Corrected Scrimgeour. "And no, he's not."
The Prime Minister narrowed his eyes. "Then why was he there, if he isn't one of your police people?"
The Other Minister seemed reluctant to answer. "He is a member of an... independent organisation. The leader, in fact."
"What? He's in charge of a business?"
"More like a rogue cell." snarled Moody.
Scrimgeour nodded. "Dumbledore is the head of the Order of the Phoenix, a secret alliance which is working to fight You-Know-Who."
"But he doesn't work for you."
"No."
"So not only are there a group of wizarding maniacs intent on murdering normal people, there's a secret cult trying to stop them?"
"They are more organised than just a cult, but essentially yes."
"So this cult-"
"The Order."
"-the Order, you don't control them?"
"No." Seeing the look on the Prime Minister's face Scrimgeour elaborated: "They are not part of the Ministry, but they only intend to stop the Death Eaters."
"And how did they know where to be? Magic?"
"A spy." Grunted Moody. "They had a man on the inside feeding them information."
"You know this how?"
Scrimgeour smirked. "They may be an independent group, but that didn't prevent three of my Aurors from joining. Moody was one of them."
"Right. So they've been spying on the terrorists, you've been spying on them, and apparently it doesn't matter to any of you that the giant killed a great deal of people."
"If it hadn't been for the man on the inside you would have had to deal with two giants and a much slower reaction from the wizards."
"Alright, so they're the good guys. What am I supposed to say? I can't exactly walk in and demand they free suspected terrorists, and you won't let me talk about wizards."
"Well, tell them that they were working for you to stop the attacks. I'm sure you can make it stick."
A glint appeared in the Prime Minister's eyes. "So, you want me to do whatever is necessary to get them released, preferably by giving them a special dispensation to operate against the terrorists?"
"Exactly. Do whatever you need to without telling the public about magic."
With that final directive the wizards retreated to their own place, leaving the Prime Minister to get started on solving those damn wizards' problems.
A/N: Greetings. So Voldemort has been busy, and has basically taken a stick and poked various different groups. Unfortunately, I have reneged on my decision to expose wizardkind, as it would have meant the Muggles getting very heavily involved, which blocked several plans of mine. Also, to be clear, Scrimgeour didn't place spies in the order, he just implied that he did to convince the Muggle Minister that he was in control.