The fact of the matter was that most of the magical creatures were six-legged panda pigs, which were technically not native anywhere, and only attacked when threatened, making it all the more certain that dark magic was involved. So far, the muggles had only seen their tracks, which were suspicious enough, because it was getting hard to dismiss them as tracks of bears walking in a line.

"Six-legged panda pigs?" Susan asked as the two of them cast footprint tracking charms in the woods not far from Alnwick. "Are we entirely sure that these aren't one of Luna's fancies?"

"Apparently the author of Fantastic Beasts kept one for a while," he muttered back. "If you ask Ginny, and she knows from her brother Charlie, they were most likely created by combining conjured animals. One of the Death Eaters must have figured out how to make them, and decided it would be easier than sourcing creatures from elsewhere and getting them to attack people."

"I thought you couldn't just conjure animals and expect them to stick around forever."

"You can't, but that isn't the point, it seems." He pointed at a set of tracks that left off abruptly. "There might be a way of making them stable, but these are especially unstable, and it's making them violent, most likely. From the radio reports, muggle hikers are being advised to avoid going places alone."

"That means most of the bodies have been found after the fact. The enemy must have figured some way to attack without the creature actually being seen. Could they have taught it to avoid attacking groups?"

"It's more likely that he's just using their short lifespan to his advantage. If he only releases them out in the woods, they're not going to be seen by any large amount of people. Even if someone hears something and comes running, the creature's going to be gone by then, and they might think that it climbed a tree or something." He shook his head. "If there were any more footprints, they wouldn't be able to ignore the fact that six of them are clearly belonging to one body."

"So, this is a Secrecy issue?"

"It's the kind of thing you could overlook if it only happened once, but it won't be long before muggles are talking about six-legged monsters attacking them. The advantage of this for the Death Eaters is that they can just create a few of these and disappear from an area, so there's no trace and no way of knowing when they're going to show up next."

"Ugh," she muttered. "It's like they're stronger now than they were when they had more members, but I know why that is. A few months ago, they were focusing on trying to cement their control over the Ministry, and not really seeing us as a threat, just an occasional inconvenience. Now, we're their main enemies and they know what to do about us." She thought for a moment. "I wouldn't say that there's no way of predicting where they'll show up next, though."

"Why's that?"

"They should logically only conduct one more attack, if any," she said. "They've shown their hand too much. They don't want to ruin Secrecy; they're just being a little more cavalier with it to make the authorities spend the time cleaning up after them."

"That's likely, but where would they show up next based on just that?"

"Their attacks have been in patterns; they've been going up the east coast, skipping about the same amount of mileage every time, hitting tourist destinations, so the next obvious place to attack is St Cuthbert's Cave."

"Is there enough tree cover to hide the beast from direct sight? The Death Eaters probably know by now that the muggles have cameras everywhere."

"That's the thing; there isn't enough tree cover. That's why I'm thinking it's going to take place in the cave itself. Even if someone brings one of those muggle cameras in there, there's no way it works in the dark."

"It might work in a cave with the flash, but there's no way the lighting in there is good enough to get a convincing shot. It wouldn't be counted as evidence of a strange, unknown creature really exists. You wouldn't believe how many times they've tried to photograph the Loch Ness Monster."

"They've heard of it?"

"There are some loons who think it's real, but everyone else just likes playing along, if anything." He frowned. "I thought it was complete bunk too, but it hardly matters. I can only think that the Ministry allows it because it's been going on for so long it's entered the culture and they really can't stop it anymore. Other countries probably have the same amount of legends; the Americans get away with calling them cryptids or whatever and the Yeti's been spotted by countless hikers in the Himalayas. I really should have guessed someone like Luna would exist in this world too, but I wasn't thinking about it before I met her."

They apparated while they were talking, looking around at the cave entrance, not about to make the mistake of failing to check whether or not they were walking into a trap. Other members of the DA and several recruits were posted at other locations before they had a proper look around, but Harry would not be there if he did not think there was a real chance of the enemy showing up. The previous location revealed that the tracks were only a few hours old, so it was fair to say that they were still hot on the trail, even if it was really just their best bet. When the diagnostic spells were done, they hid inside the cave.

"There's no one here," Susan muttered. "Do you think they check before actually doing anything?"

"It doesn't matter; we don't have to catch them in the act. Even if he just shows up to look around, kill him and we'll use his wand to prove everything."

It was correct to say that they were in favor of due process, and equally correct to say that they were at war and not exactly in any position to put anyone on trial. It would be great if they could catch the enemy, having anticipated correctly that there would only be one, but they probably had less than a second to put down the target. They could reasonably assume that the Death Eater, a member of a sort of New Inner Circle, would first check to see if the area was clear of any kind of magical detection or interference, which was why they could not afford to cast any protective spells. Dressed in muggle garb, they were perched on a surface in the cave where they were not suppose to be crouching, in the dark, having removed the lightbulbs from a few of the fixtures nearby- not enough of an obstruction to raise any alarms, but they would at least see someone else before being seen.

"None of the bastards we catch can ever clear us from baseless suspicion," Michael had said, annoyed, when talking to Neville about how they could not simply arrest and make public the whole process. "They'll just say that the one we turned in must have done something to displease our master and that his only further worth was as a propaganda piece, and that they're making us crack by ramping up the pressure."

To his credit, the old guard of the papers had already started the conjecture. DO WE HAVE IT ALL WRONG? That was the headline of the Daily Prophet on the day they went out to their posts to seek the madman killing muggles. Even just from the way it was written it was easy to tell that the editorial judgement call had made waves in the office and some of the writers were not happy to be taking a huge risk, again, just to muddy the waters and save face for their betters and in their revenge perhaps they would retain some credit among the angry mobs, though those mobs were smaller than they had been. Had they simply found some other way to vent their anger? It was easy to rally around a beardless boy who had been besieged by the press, government, and dark wizards, when they had some idea that it was going on, which was why it had been so important to protect the Quibbler, but the appeal might have worn off when it started to look like he was both winning, and not doing anything fun with his position of strength, like a mass execution.

The enemy appeared and they were lucky that he was not looking at him, and they both took the chance to stun him, the red beams crossing, and one hitting even as he moved- even if he could have produced a shield charm on the fly, it would not have been facing the right direction and for all he knew, he could have been attacked from two different angles. Most likely, he had used the human revealing charm, but decided it was all well and good if there were two people sitting around in the cave.

"Why'd he go in?" Susan asked. "Incarcerus. What's the advantage in going in?"

"Might have wanted to see our faces before he had something rip us apart," Harry muttered back. "I don't give a damn. We're getting him out of here and interrogating him back at the base."

"What?" He looked over at a muggle couple, apparently in their thirties. "What?" came the wife's voice, again, though no one had said anything. "What's going on here?"

"We're sorry you had to see this," Susan said. "Well, this is going to cost you a little time, but it's your own fault for being so damn curious. Stupefy." She dropped the husband right after. "Where's Luna?"

"She should be back from her assignment. There's some chance that she's watering magical plants with Neville, but we'll find her in the base."

"Good, take them back; I'll get the target."

It was almost disappointing that the enemy went down with one spell, but then, that was not the same thing as going down easily, and it was only proof that choosing the time and place of battle was paramount, and that all other advantages were secondary at best, and that was why they had a huge problem in that Voldemort was not letting himself be found. Was that all he had to do for the rest of their lives? Could he even die of natural causes? He had absolutely no idea how many spells it would take to kill the greatest dark wizard of the age, but he could be certain that they would need to overcome the strategic problem first. How could they find him, though, when not even the new Inner Circle seemed to know where he was?

The trip back was simple enough. They were told off for interfering with the lives of muggles, when they could have stunned them ahead of time, and then woken them up later, but they had no way of knowing they were there; the muggles must have been too deep in the cave during their initial scan of the area and they had not noticed their presence. There was nothing to do but erase some memories and leave them back where they found them. For the capture of the Death Eater, though, they could only be commended. It was not every day, after all, that you could boast about bringing in Walden Macnair.

"Someone fetch Mr. Hagrid from The Fens," Professor McGonagall said. "I can only imagine the questions he has."

"They were fighting only recently," Lupin explained. "He kept saying it had nothing to do with werewolves."

Susan and Blaise had each petitioned to work on the interrogation, but their help was only permitted as consulting to the half-giant, and before he could arrive, they pulled him aside.

"What is this?" the witch asked. "We can't just let him do everything-"

"We're trying to rebuild relations," he said. "Hagrid's got the personal experience that we don't, and his right to interrogate has primacy."

"We were the ones who caught him."

"Doesn't count for anything per our agreement with the Order," Susan interjected for him, sighing. "Look, let's at least make sure this is all done according to our own regulation."

It was a bit of an artificial step back that he took when his subordinates went in front of him to observe the interrogation. They were visible; there was no point in concealing them, unlike in muggle police dramas, which might be at least somewhat based in reality, at least in certain jurisdictions, where they did not simply use a camera and a tv set in another room. Before he could get into the question about what amount of control over the information he could afford to sacrifice to regain the trust of the other organization, he had to wonder how far their own group had strayed from what he initially envisioned. To be sure, he had wanted the DA to take things seriously and work hard on everything, but the process had become more formalized than what he had imagined. The ranks themselves had not been written up until it started getting challenging to split up and make decisions, and became a necessity with the advent of the recruits.

"Guess ah'll go ahead an' start by askin' yeh if yeh know what this is," the former Care of Magical Creatures teacher said, holding up what looked like a bird with a hood on it.

"As if I would know without seeing its face."

"Can'tcha tell from the plumage?" he asked. "Don' think it's a bad specimen- male, young adult-"

"I've killed countless magical creatures," Macnair said, shaking his head. "They all run together after a time. Really, you hardly need more than to kill it with a killing curse or apparate away most of the time. The only reason I ever had to use anything else, apart from just the appreciation of the craft, was red tape." He leaned forward. "I've had fingers bitten off. I've been mentally flayed- don't even ask. I've even died in a fungal dream. Don't think you'll get anything good out of me."

"Wouldn' be so sure abou' that." He unmasked the creature. "Used ter call this one a Screamloon, but Ah'm pretty sure it's a fwooper."

Harry would have had to be blind to miss the look on the Death Eater's face; he was deeply concerned. He could not see the former gamekeeper's face from his position, and he had not a guess as to what it might reflect; he was seeing a side to an old friend that he was certain he had never seen before. There were few people he knew who had been so full of unironic sweetness and care, and he was threatening someone with insanity.

"What do those things do again?" Blaise asked.

"If you hear their cry, you lose your mind. That's it. There's no helping you." Harry could only stare soberly at the scene. "I imagine Hagrid has some kind of hearing protection like what we used when we were dealing with mandrakes."

"Isn't that the same thing?" Susan asked. "I mean, I suppose the mandrake cries on impulse, when it's plucked, and the fwooper cries deliberately, and can do so at any time, but-" She shook her head. "We shouldn't be here for this. We're not needed here."

Given that the captive was already talking, their former teacher must have known exactly what would frighten him the most from personal experience, and he had just the thing for it. From the looks on their faces, they could all sympathize. There was very little that was more threatening than going insane, especially from the way that previous cases had been described.

"Couldn't he be using Occlumency?" Blaise asked after a moment. "I have literally never heard of a fwooper."

"He's probably decent at it since he was so confident going in, but it really wouldn't matter," Harry said. "He can't use it to stop himself from hearing something, and even if he refuses to divulge anything and forces Hagrid to prompt the cry, he wouldn't be protecting the secrets at all, because there's no way he could shield his mind then. There's no option to keep what he knows from us."

"He must have been planning this for a while," Susan said. "It's the perfect trap. Even someone willing to die to protect the information would have to have some kind of suicide option available, and if that took the form of anything we could remove while he was unconscious, then he would be out of luck. It makes more sense to defect, frankly. Voldemort could have the exact same methods available to him, or something even worse, but it wouldn't matter because he doesn't have a way to avoid disappointing him."

"Let's admit that we were not as well prepared for this an move on, then," their leader decided. "We've succeeded in protecting the muggles from the panda pigs, at least for now, so we need to refocus to one of our other issues." He took a breath. "Crysomallus Pyrites. He's one of the last loyal servants left to Voldemort at this point and he's even slipperier than Macnair could manage. He's also probably more dangerous to the muggles, less concerned with Secrecy, and the only reason we haven't been able to do anything about him has been a lack of information."

"That's about to change?" Blaise asked.

"It should. Their master is probably going to send him out to keep causing problems, with specific directions on how he's expected to get the attention of the Ministry, while keeping things salvageable. They'll do that by finding some way to connect his actions to me, and that means we need to be quick about this."

"How?" Susan asked. "We would have to reassemble to send the barn again, and even then, we have no idea where he'll strike."

"That's true, but he uses curses instead of summoned creatures, so it should be easier to figure out the time he appears." He got out the Time Turner. "Thanks to this, that's all we need to know."

"I see," Blaise said after a second. "We couldn't really use this before, but won't Voldemort know that we have it?"

"He might figure it out, and that won't be easy on us, but we can't just put random people's lives at risk when we have a good way of getting rid of one of his most dangerous followers. We'll kill him, and we'll do our best to keep the enemy from figuring out what we've got in the process, but he's been dangerously good at that so far, so I wouldn't hold out hope."

"Then let's get started on the planning phase," Susan said. "We need everyone deployed in strategic places. I get the feeling the enemy is going to try to hit large population centers, and he's not going to care if they're magical or mundane. As we've discussed, the point wasn't really to disqualify the Ministry on Secrecy grounds, but on corruption, and it's a legitimate case, even if they're the ones causing the problem, and they could probably do about as well in any other country."

"It doesn't matter. There's only so much we can do to prop up the institution we have. Even though I've said we shouldn't try to actively dismantle it as long as we can change it, if it can't even stay alive and do its most basic job, then we won't focus on keeping it afloat. We're going to leave it to them- making the case to the ICW. If we're even right about, this, we'll still need to kill Jervis Mulciber after this is over, and that won't be easy, because we might well lose another advantage."

"We've killed so many of them," Blaise muttered, annoyed. "At what point does it start getting easier?"

"It doesn't get easier," the witch said, having figured it out already. "The nature of the challenges we face just... gets an update here and there. Ernie's dead, so we'll need you working on our public image with Michael. That's the challenge with which you need concern yourself at the moment."

"Of course. Why would I worry about anything else?"