Chapter 43
Ghost appeared uneasy about what he'd learned, and he rubbed his eyes tiredly as he processed it. Shaking his head, his gaze shifted to Harry, and he released a deep sigh.
"I do not doubt you, Jameson, but are you certain?"
Harry nodded grimly.
"I have no doubt that Laurent is one of them," he replied. "What other Frenchman can wield the power he is proving to? It's no coincidence that he is both the Minister of Magic and the ICW representative of France. He is a man who enjoys his power and will do whatever it takes to retain it, even siding with Grindelwald. I am a threat because I am getting close to uncovering the entire network."
"And Abernathy?"
"Absolutely," Harry said firmly. "He played his hand well, and it has paid off for him."
Ghost hummed thoughtfully.
"That still leaves several others unaccounted for," he pointed out.
"It's only a matter of time," Harry assured him. "If I take out Laurent and Abernathy, the others will have to act."
Ghost frowned as he nodded.
"You're playing a very dangerous game," he murmured, "but there is no reward without risk in this. I just can't figure out how they are operating without the support of their respective governments."
"Corruption," Harry snorted. "It's all corruption. I'm guessing they are redirecting government funding to where they need it to be. The people who attacked me were professionals and would not be cheap."
"Do you have the wands you recovered?"
Harry placed them on the table, and Ghost inspected each, returning to the first after he'd done so.
"There is something familiar about the magical traces on this one," he mused aloud, "but not the wand itself."
"It was made by someone named Manon Dubois."
"Dubois?" Ghost asked. "She vanished during the war."
"She did, but this wand was made within the last ten years."
"And it is likely a secondary wand, so if it is lost, it cannot be traced back to anyone unless whoever finds it is familiar with the magic of the owner."
"You are with this?"
"I believe I am," Ghost said darkly, his expression becoming one of anger. "I cannot divulge information to you, Jameson. The identity of our agents is strictly protected. However, I can ensure that you are sent to the same job as the man I believe this belongs to."
"You'd do that?"
Ghost nodded.
"If it is him, then he is a traitor! After what happened to us during the war, I will not tolerate traitors being among us. Look out for a message from me, Jameson. It will come to you soon enough."
Harry offered the man an appreciative nod as he left the office.
Again, he found himself delving so deeply into the global criminal underworld that he could no longer be surprised by what he was slowly uncovering: missing wandmakers, traitorous Hit-Wizards, and politicians so corrupt that it beggared belief.
Whatever else he would discover, Harry didn't know, but until he found his opening to either Laurent or Abernathy, he could not lose sight of the threat on his doorstep.
Although Tom had been quiet in recent days, he did not expect it to last.
Soon enough, the Dark Lord would raise his head, and Harry intended to remove it from his shoulders once and for all.
Riddle had always been a burden that weighed down on him but compared to his attempt at solving the murder of Amelia's parents, he was but a minor inconvenience.
No less dangerous than he'd ever been, but Voldemort was the devil Harry knew only too well.
For now, however, he was going home.
He'd been away for the better part of two days, and he knew that Amelia would be waiting for him.
(Break)
Arcturus scowled unhappily as he paced back and forth in his study. He knew that Cassiopeia was a deeply selfish woman, but to attempt to use his granddaughters for her own gain infuriated the man.
Turning to look towards Bellatrix, he smiled at the young woman.
"You were right to come to me," he praised.
Bellatrix shrugged in response.
"She seems to think that I am a naïve girl," she replied. "I'm no such thing."
"No, you're not," Arcturus agreed with a chuckle, "and it would be foolish of her to pick a fight with Jameson, let alone the Serpent. I heard only mentions of the man, and the enemy would tremble at the mere thought of him. I don't know what she is playing at, but Cassie is in for a rude awakening if that is what she is trying to do."
"What are you going to do, grandfather?" Bellatrix asked.
Arcturus was furious with Cassiopeia, and despite making excuses for her over the years, he knew he no longer could.
In truth, nothing could ever justify what she had done.
She'd abandoned the family in favour of following Grindelwald, had murdered so willingly in his name, and had refused to admit she was wrong when the war against him had been concluded.
Instead, she had chosen a life of exile, returning sporadically, only for the fallout between them to become worse.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "It would be best if she just buggered off back to whatever hole she's been living in, but she won't. Cassiopeia is only going to get herself killed for a man who never cared for her."
"Grindelwald?"
Arcturus nodded.
"Bastard," he grumbled. "This is why you never become a follower of men with delusions of grandeur. Be a leader, Bellatrix. You have all the potential in the world to be great, and I have every faith in you to be so. I know I don't say it often, but I am so proud, even if you will be working with Jameson," he added with a snort.
"You really don't like him, do you?"
"It's not that I dislike him," Arcturus sighed. "We are very different men who have lived very different lives. We have so little in common that would bring us together. I may not be fond of him, Bellatrix, but I respect him. You will meet very few wizards in the world as brilliant as him, so you should learn all you can and cherish the time you will have together."
"I will," the young woman promised. "Are you saying he is a better wizard than you?"
Arcturus narrowed his eyes at her.
"Don't push your luck," he warned.
Bellatrix's eyes twinkled with mirth, and Arcturus couldn't help but smile.
She was happy, and she was thriving, and that was all he ever wanted for all of his grandchildren.
(Break)
"Walden," the Dark Lord greeted his former schoolmate.
Macnair looked exhausted by his efforts, and the bags under his eyes and unusually stubbly face made him look ten years older than he was.
"My Lord," the man replied with a bow.
"I am guessing by the smile that you were successful?"
Walden nodded and sunk into the offered chair by the fireplace.
"It's been so long since I've sat in comfort," he murmured, "but yes, the giants are here. They want only good land to live on with ample space to farm."
"They shall have it," Voldemort assured him. "They are willing to fight?"
"They are excited to fight," Walden chuckled, "well, most of them. Those who opposed the alliance have been dispatched. There were five in all, but we have close to forty at our disposal."
"That is good news," the Dark Lord declared happily. "You have done well, Walden. I appreciate your talents."
Macnair merely nodded in response before reluctantly pushing himself to his feet with a groan.
"If you don't mind, I believe my bed is calling me."
"Rest," the Dark Lord urged. "It won't be long before I call for you. Make sure the giants are ready. Where are they?"
"I have placed them in the New Forest for now. Not far from both Bournemouth and Portsmouth."
"Excellent," Voldemort replied as he pondered which would be the preferred place of attack. "Sleep, Walden, you have earned it."
The man left, and the Dark lord consulted the map.
There had been no attacks in the south of the country, but that would change soon enough.
Perhaps the news of the giants having sided with him would lure the Serpent out.
The Dark Lord hoped so.
He wished to be rid of the man quickly, and having studied the file Lucius had given him, he was certain he would take the bait.
The Serpent had a pattern and weakness for helping those in need, so having giants rampaging across Britain would undoubtedly get his attention.
It brought a smile to the Dark Lord's lips, and a sense of excited anticipation filled him.
With the Serpent dead, Jameson would soon follow, and the interruptions to his efforts would be no more.
Great Britain would be his for the taking, and Lord Voldemort had no intention of delaying the inevitable.
The country would fall, and he would take his rightful place at the very top of society.
When the magical fell under his control, he would do what Grindelwald failed to, and the muggles would learn that they were not at the top of the food chain in the world.
They would be put where they belonged and crushed beneath the heels of their superiors.
(Break)
"JAMESON!"
Harry snickered as he rolled under the kitchen table and waited for the inevitable sound of approaching footsteps. A few minutes passed before he heard the grumbling Amelia and spotted her bare feet from his hiding place.
"Don't hide from me, Harry!" the furious redhead growled.
She yelped in surprise as the second part of his plan came into effect, and the balloon he'd suspended above the kitchen dropped onto her.
Amelia cursed as she wiped shaving cream from her face.
"I know you're in here!"
"No, I'm not."
Amelia stomped towards were Harry was hiding, and before he could make his escape, she seized him by the ankles and dragged him from under the table.
Try as he might, he couldn't help but laugh at the sight of her.
Although covered in the shaving cream, he could still see the bright purple skin beneath.
"What the hell are you playing at?" Amelia demanded.
Harry merely grinned in response, though his eyes widened as she began pulling him across the kitchen floor.
"What are you doing?" he asked worriedly.
Amelia offered him a rather sinister grin.
"Oh, two can play your game, Jameson," she chuckled. "Come on, we're going for a walk."
Before Harry could protest, Amelia had bound his hands and feet together so that he resembled a cut of mat destined for a rotisserie, and he found himself levitating into the garden in front of the woman.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, his eyes widening as he realised what she was doing.
"No, not that!" he groaned.
"You should've thought of that before you booby-trapped the shower," Amelia replied, dropping him unceremoniously onto the combined heap of hippogriff and thestral dung.
Harry grimaced as Amelia laughed at him.
"It stinks of shit," he muttered.
Amelia hummed before rolling her eyes and releasing him.
"Come on."
"Come on where?" Harry asked nervously.
"You are going to wash my hair for me," Amelia declared, "and fix my skin."
"What about me?"
"Oh, you'll have to be washed first," she replied, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I wouldn't let anyone covered in manure touch me. Oh, and Harry, you should think yourself lucky I didn't bury you in it."
Harry chuckled amusedly.
Most others would be furious with him for pulling the prank, but Amelia had, for the most part, taken it in her stride, and even turned the tables on him.
That brought a fond smile to his lips.
"What a woman," he commented.
"And you'd better not forget it," Amelia replied from ahead of him.
Sometime later, the duo was lying in bed, both clean and Amelia felt particularly smug that she'd gotten the better of the exchange.
"What brought that on?" she asked curiously.
Harry smiled sadly.
"When I was younger and on the run, I realised that I'd never been able to enjoy life, and I knew that my parents never would've wanted that for me. I promised myself that if I won the war, I wouldn't let anything in life make me so miserable again. I suppose it's just me taking a step back from it and enjoying something simple."
"By changing the colour of my skin and covering me in shaving cream?"
"Exactly," Harry answered with a grin.
Amelia shook her head.
"You know, I think I fell into the same trap," she sighed. When my parents were killed, I became so focused on becoming an Auror that I forgot about everything else. I remember before, Edgar and I would get up to all sorts, and when they were gone, it just stopped. He had to take over from my father, and I shut myself away. All of the fun just seemed to stop until I met you."
"I remember how fun you were when we first met," Harry chuckled. "If you were any stiffer, I could've used you to prop open a door."
"Very funny, Jameson."
"Cut me some slack, I'm not at the top of my game right now. I spent the last hour washing and drying your hair."
"You ruined it."
"You could've let me use magic."
Amelia grinned and shook her head.
"That would've made for a terrible punishment."
Harry quirked an eyebrow at her.
"If you think being in the shower with you is a punishment, you really don't know me very well."
"Enjoy yourself?"
Harry nodded, and Amelia snuggled closer to him.
"Don't get any ideas about doing it again," she warned. "I might just decide I want my old room back."
"You wouldn't."
"Like I said earlier, Jameson," Amelia said sweetly, "don't push your luck."
She kissed him on the cheek and turned away, placing her wand on the bedside table before settling herself to sleep.
Harry simply held her close, noting that the moon was full outside the window as he enjoyed the closeness he shared with the woman.
He couldn't be certain when he'd eventually drifted off or how long he'd slept, but it was the unpleasant blaring of Amelia's Auror card that woke him.
"Bloody hell," she cursed as she retrieved it.
"I should've known the peace wouldn't last," Harry muttered as he sat up. "What is it?' he asked with a frown."
"Giants," Amelia whispered worriedly. "What are giants doing in Britain?"
"I'll give you one guess," Harry huffed as he drew his wand.
With only a few waves, he was ready and alert.
"Where are they?"
"Portsmouth," Amelia answered. "Harry, giants are…"
"Dangerous," Harry cut in. "I know. It's not the first time I've faced them, and I have to get there quickly. I can hold them off, at least."
Amelia shook her head.
"I'm coming with you," she decided. "I'll get a message to Alastor to let him know. You can't go alone."
Harry chuckled as he did his final checks to ensure he had everything he would need.
"Careful, Bones or I'll start to get the idea that you worry about me."
She shot him a pointed look.
"I do worry about you more than I've worried about anyone else," she replied frustratedly. "That's what you do when you love someone, you prat."
Harry was taken aback by her words, so much so that he was lost for his own.
Instead, he offered the woman an appreciative smile before taking her by the hand and squeezing it.
"Try to stay close and keep your wits about you," he urged. "Physical attacks work best," he added, kissing her on the lips.
With that, Harry apparated them away from the house and undoubtedly into another life-threatening situation.
(Break)
Even when the students were away from the castle, being the headmaster of a school such as Hogwarts was still a full-time job. Albus was responsible for ensuring everything outside of the classroom was done, and that was how he spent much of his summer when he wasn't fielding enquiries as to when the students would be receiving their OWL and NEWT results.
Still, with only a couple of weeks left until they returned and the exam results due in the coming days, he was left to focus on the other things that right required his attention.
Oddly, it was rather enjoyable filling out order forms for the supplies the professors would need and even spending time in the kitchen to check in with the dozens of house-elves who assisted him.
Albus had come to enjoy these simple things, but as always, when he was beginning to get just a little too comfortable in his official capacity, something would inevitable interrupt it.
"ALBUS!"
"Alastor?" the headmaster asked with a frown as he entered his office. "What is wrong?"
The man was paler than Albus had ever seen him, and his eyes unusually wide in panic.
"Giants, Albus! He's only got bloody giants!"
"Giants?" Albus whispered, finding himself in a state of shock. "Where?"
"Portsmouth," Alastor answered. Jameson and Bones are already en route. We will follow shortly, but we could use all the help we can get."
Albus nodded grimly.
"I'm on my way, Alastor," he assured the man. "Fawkes!"
The phoenix appeared in a gout of flame, and Albus drew his wand in anticipation of what he might come upon before reaching up to seize the talons of his companion.
Vanishing in a plume of fire, and despite his best efforts, Albus was not prepared for the scene he came upon in the centre of the southern city.
"Good grief," he whispered.
The smell of burning wafted under his nose, and the screams of man and beast alike filled his ears. Wherever he looked, toppled buildings lay next to uprooted trees, and among them, the dead and dying.
Although the devastation surrounding him was attributable to the several giants, it was the two recognisable figures he could see a short distance away creating the chaos.
Moving as one, Harry Jameson and Amelia Bones were doing all they could to prevent further harm, but with so many of the behemoths, it was no easy task.
Without further delay, Albus approached, bringing his wand to bear to intercept an enormous chunk of steel that had been hurled towards them.
Banishing it back towards the giant who'd thrown it, he grimaced at the dull thud as it collided with the creature's knee, and the ear-splitting roar that followed was most unsettling.
Perhaps he should feel relieved by the success of his rebuttal, but Albus had never taken any joy in such matters.
To him, violence was such a foreign concept, and it was not in his nature to partake in it.
The same couldn't be said for his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, however.
Harry truly seemed to be in his element when surrounded by chaos, and he offered Albus a nod of appreciation as he joined the pair.
"Where are the Aurors?" Harry asked over the din.
"Alastor said they would be here shortly," Albus assured him.
"Well, they'd best get a move on, if not, there won't be much to salvage. We can't keep going like this indefinitely."
Albus agreed.
Harry and Amelia were doing a commendable job, but there were too many giants spread around too far for only the three of them to be truly effective, and if the Aurors didn't arrive soon, the disaster they faced would only be worse.
"Any ideas?" Amelia asked.
Harry shook his head, though his brow creased in thought as they continued to fight.
Nonetheless, even with Albus's assistance, they were simply outmatched, and the headmaster idly pondered how best not to find themselves in such a situation again, should they survive this encounter.
As he did so, an idea began to form, but until this moment of mortal peril had been combatted, it would have to wait.
(Break)
The Dark Lord was almost euphoric at what he saw. He knew the giants would be an exceptional addition to his forces, but to see them in action was undeniably impressive.
They were ruthless and brutal and caused so much damage that it appeared a natural disaster was sweeping through the area, and yet, there was no sign of the Serpent.
Below his vantage point, he could see Jameson scrambling to have any impact on what the monsters were doing, and even Dumbledore had arrived a few minutes prior to offer his own pitiful assistance, but between them and the redheaded Auror, they couldn't do much when facing such adversity.
It gave Lord Voldemort hope for his future endeavours, and though this was only a trial of the giant's effectiveness, it was yielding more than he could've hoped for.
"The rest of the Aurors are here," Avery murmured, pointing towards the red-robed contingent that had arrived.
The Dark Lord watched them closely, hoping to see patterns in how the forces of the Ministry of Magic operated.
They were indeed organised and efficient when they finally arrived where they were needed, but the continued failure to deploy the Aurors quickly would be their downfall.
Had it been the Death Eaters here instead of the giants, they would've left before the Aurors could even gather themselves.
"Pathetic," the Dark Lord murmured as he looked back towards where Jameson had been, only to frown. "Where did he go?"
Avery shrugged, and the two continued to search for him among the crowd, both taken aback by what they saw next.
(Break)
What Alastor saw before him as he arrived in Portsmouth was like nothing else, and he could only compare it to what the veterans of the war against Grindelwald had told him.
Entire streets had been destroyed, and a river of blood and other fluids ran freely through them.
For those of a weaker disposition, it would be enough to make them want to flee, but as Aurors, they were unable to do so.
If they didn't fight against Riddle and his forces, who would?
"Better late than never," Jameson commented as Alastor and half a dozen others reached him, Amelia, and Albus.
They'd done an amicable job mitigating the damage, but the giants continued to run rampant, destroying everything in their path.
Alastor said nothing as he began assisting them, hurling debris towards any foe who came close enough to reach.
"This won't do," Jameson huffed irritably. "We need something that will take a few of them out to send the rest of them packing."
"I'm all ears if you have any ideas, lad," Alastor replied.
Jameson frowned before turning towards him.
"Keep them busy," he instructed.
Alastor nodded and did so, gasping as Jameson took off from the ground under his own steam.
"He can bloody well fly?" he choked. "Can you do that, Albus?"
"I suppose if I was inclined to," Dumbledore answered thoughtfully, "but not so eloquently."
Although he continued to play his part in the fight against the giants, Alastor and the others nearby were enthralled by Jameson's display.
The man continued to fly above them in circles, gradually picking up speed until he was little more than a blur, occasionally illuminated by the moon.
With the faster he got, the debris on the ground began floating towards him, and though Alastor didn't know what Jameson intended to do, he waited in anticipation of something he'd never seen before.
"What is he doing?" he murmured.
No one seemed to know, and it wasn't until he heard the clinking of metal that Alastor began to understand partly what Jameson was attempting.
The chain he'd created was dozens of feet in length, and as he began drawing nearer to the giants, seemingly selecting targets, Alastor began doubling his own efforts.
Whatever Jameson was doing was undoubtedly reckless, and he would need all the help he could get to pull it off.
(Break)
"My Lord, he is flying," Avery said dryly.
Voldemort's nostrils flared as he observed the feat, and he nodded to himself.
He looked on as Jameson tied the length of chain around the neck of one of the giants before doing the same to another. Drawing his arm back, he conjured a whip of white fire and lashed it against the back of each.
The giants roared in a mixture of fury and anger, and both began running as the attack continued, though they did so in opposite directions.
When the chain straightened out, the force snapped the giants backwards, and they crashed to the ground with a loud, dull thud, where they were immediately set upon by the cheering Aurors.
Jameson, however, wasted no time and selected his next targets, quickly felling another pair.
"My Lord…"
"Worry not, Avery, I will get him down."
He'd not intended to involve himself in the attack, but given the giants' fury at what had happened, he knew he'd be unsuccessful in convincing them to retreat.
Still, he couldn't deny the excitement he was experiencing at the prospect, and though there was no sign of the Serpent, it didn't matter.
Jameson was here, and the Dark Lord had quite the score to settle with the man.
(Break)
Even when the giants were down, they proved to be difficult to subdue and took around a dozen Aurors for each one to secure and prevent their enormous limbs from flailing dangerously.
They screeched in protest, and it wasn't long before the rest began bearing down on the Aurors.
It was a strategic wall of black flame from Harry which prevented them from helping their fallen tribesmen, and they did their utmost to snuff the fire.
"What the fuck do we do with them?" Moody demanded.
"We eliminate them," Grimm commanded. "We don't have cells big enough for these."
It was a callous response, but Amelia could find no argument for an alternative.
Giants were not easily caged, and the Ministry simply did not have the resources to do so. They certainly couldn't be set free, and with all the damage and deaths they'd caused, the backlash for doing so would be immense.
No, Grimm was right, and as he led the men in dispatching the giants they'd managed to capture, Amelia took a moment to look towards the sky where Harry was.
She couldn't see him, but he was undoubtedly still up there, doing all he could to put an end to this madness, something that seemed destined to continue as a powerful gust of wind blew through the streets of Portsmouth.
The fire Harry had conjured was extinguished, and the giants that had been kept at bay were given a clear path to charge towards them, led by a familiar, pale man, his red eyes standing stark in the darkness.
"Oh dear," Dumbledore murmured.
Amelia agreed with the sentiment, but she readied herself to fend the man off, and watched as four of her colleagues attempted to intercept the Dark Lord.
They were quickly swatted away as though they were mere insects, and Riddle laughed as he looked upon their broken, twisted bodies.
What he'd done to them, Amelia didn't know, but the four did not move, and Voldemort incinerated them with a flick of his wand, his grin only widening as he did so.
Murder evidently excited the man, and before Amelia could react, it was Alastor who charged forward, firing spell after spell towards Riddle.
"You filthy bastard!" Moody growled.
It was almost with a sense of disappointment that Voldemort fought back, and he did so rather lazily.
Alastor was a formidable wizard in his own right, and the Dark Lord was only dismissive of his skill, barely bothering to mount an offence, instead choosing to toy with the veteran Auror.
It angered Amelia to see, but she took a calming breath to keep her temper in check.
Harry had told her that facing Voldemort when furious would only play into the man's hands.
He thrived on knowing he was winning a mental battle, just as he was with the frustrated Alastor.
"He will be killed," Dumbledore said worriedly as he stepped forward to intervene. "Focus on the giants."
Amelia nodded, trusting that the man had the situation with Riddle in hand, and continued with her own efforts to either kill or disperse the giants.
It still seemed to be a fruitless endeavour, and one only made all the more difficult by the presence of Riddle, who was now engaged in quite the violent altercation with Dumbledore.
The two men were given a wide berth as they traded blows and were it not for the severity of the situation they were facing, Amelia would be very interested in seeing how the altercation would unfold.
Once more, her gaze shifted towards the sky, and she caught sight of Harry passing above them.
Was he even aware of what was happening?
She didn't know, but she suspected it wouldn't be long before he was, and Amelia knew that he would immediately throw himself into the fray.
Despite his own advice, she knew he would not be able to resist attempting to rid the world of the Dark Lord, and as the fighting around her continued, it gave her something else to worry about.
She had every faith in Harry's ability, but there was no denying the threat Voldemort posed.
He truly was a dangerous man, but Harry certainly would not shy away from facing him.
(Break)
If it could have been avoided, Harry wouldn't have taken to the air in such a manner, and he'd be sitting comfortably atop his Firebolt whilst attempting to fend off the giants.
However, explaining why he had a broom in his possession that hadn't been invented for almost two decades would be impossible, especially as the current models available were not comparable to his own in any conceivable way.
No, flying without would be much easier to explain to the dozens of witnesses below.
Fortunately, the giants were not well-versed in fending off attacks from the sky, so the advantage truly was Harry's, though there had been a few near misses as things were hurled towards him, and some had even taken a swipe when he'd gotten just a little too close.
Still, he'd not been in any real danger thus far, and his efforts were slowly but surely disrupting the giants enough that they were beginning to retreat.
Harry's problem now was that Voldemort had arrived, and the urge to fight the Dark Lord was all but impossible to ignore.
Shooting furtive glances at what was transpiring below him, he could see that Albus was locked in a stalemate with Riddle, the best he could hope for between the two.
It wasn't that Albus wasn't gifted enough to defeat Tom, but he lacked the conviction to do so, and that put the man at a distinct disadvantage.
Tom had no such reservations, and any moment Albus was left facing him, the headmaster's life was in danger.
With that in mind, Harry knew he needed to act quickly.
Although his tactics were proving to be effective, they weren't nearly fast enough. At the current rate, it could take him hours to topple the rest of the giants, who were slowly beginning to find ways to avoid being caught in his traps.
Time was something he couldn't spare, and he had only one idea left up his sleeve to send the giants fleeing from the area. It wouldn't be easy, but with the situation becoming quite dire, Harry could think of no other way.
Not convinced by the strategy, he headed towards the ground, close to where he'd taken off several moments prior.
(Break)
With the work Harry had been doing in the air having brought the giants closer together, the threat became somewhat easier to repel, but it was still a threat that neither Amelia nor the other Aurors had ever faced.
The giants had not been allowed in Britain for several centuries, and she never thought she'd see one, let alone, as many as were present now.
"Harry!" she whispered as the man landed only a short distance away from her.
Amelia ran towards him and through her arms around his neck.
Both were covered in dust, and Amelia's robes spattered with blood, but neither cared as they held one another.
"I need you to get the word around that when I send up three green flares, you all need to apparate away, wait thirty seconds, and then come back. Cn you do that for me?"
Amelia eyed him confusedly, but she knew there wasn't time to question him.
She swallowed deeply as she nodded.
"Good," Harry said with a proud smile. "It's going to get messy, but we don't have a choice. I'd say you've got around five minutes. Get the injured out of here."
With that, he sprinted towards where Dumbledore and Voldemort were fighting, vanishing from Amelia's sight.
She set to work without delay, quickly finding Grimm, whose robes were torn. The man was bleeding from a wound to his head, but he fought on regardless, banishing sharpened debris towards the marauding giants.
"Harry says to look out for three green flares. When you see them, apparate away for thirty seconds before returning. We need to let the others know and get the injured away from here."
Grimm nodded his understanding and removed his Auror card from his pocket.
Tapping it a few times with his wand, the same piercing shrill that alerted the Aurors to the attack began sounding around them.
"How long, Bones?"
"Around five minutes."
"Alright, we'd best start getting the injured. I've had them taken over there," Grimm explained, pointing towards a large, collapsed building. "Moody isn't in a good way. I've had him taken to St Mungo's."
"What happened?" Amelia asked worriedly.
Grimm shook his head.
"I don't know," he answered, "but he might well lose his leg. Come on, let's not fanny about."
Amelia was worried for her mentor but knew better than to focus on it when what she was doing required all of her attention.
Still, it was somewhat in a daze that she began evacuating those incapable of doing so themselves, and it seemed only a few seconds went by before the streets were bathed in an eerie green glow.
"Time to go," Grimm instructed. "Do we have everyone?"
Amelia didn't know, but as the ground began to tremble beneath her feet, there was little else that could be done, and she apparated away as she'd been instructed to do.
(Break)
The Dark Lord had always been cautious of Dumbledore, and facing off with him now when he was a grown man, he quickly remembered why. Dumbledore was known across the entire continent as being an excellent wizard, and his defeat of Grindelwald had only cemented that reputation.
Lord Voldemort was beginning to realise just how brilliant his former Transfiguration professor was, albeit begrudgingly.
His form was flawless, and his creativity was unlike anything the Dark Lord had faced. What Dumbledore lacked, however, was the ruthlessness required to win such a fight.
Despite this, try as he might, Lord Voldemort was truly struggling to solve the puzzle before him. He'd not landed a single blow nor managed to outwit the crafty older man.
"You can't win, Dumbledore," the Dark Lord mocked.
Dumbledore shook his head disappointedly.
"This isn't about me winning, Tom. It's about ensuring that you don't," he replied.
Voldemort frowned at the use of his given name and glared at the other man, only to raise his wand to intercept a powerful sent towards him.
It forced the air from his lungs, and he skidded backwards several feet.
Banishing the thick smoke that had formed around him away, he could not see his assailant, but Dumbledore remained where he had been, a look of determination creasing his brow.
"Avada Kedavra!" the Dark Lord spat.
A large piece of stone blocked the spell, and as Voldemort raised his wand once more, his attention was drawn towards the sky and the three bursts of light that briefly lit it.
He frowned in confusion as the ground began to shudder beneath his feet, and as he looked towards Dumbledore questioningly, he found that the man was no longer there, nor were the dozens of Aurors that had arrived to fend off the giants.
None remained save for those he'd brought along with him, and an eerie silence filled the air, broken a moment later as the vibrations increased dramatically, making the Dark Lord stumble forward.
"What the…?" he murmured, a sense of concern filling him as a veritable wave of debris hurtled towards him and the giants.
It was close to thirty feet, built of dirt and stone, and even a few cars had been swept up into it.
Coming at such ferocity and drowning everything in its path, Voldemort knew there was no stopping the admittedly incredible feat of magic.
He watched as it began sweeping over the giants, who fought to prevent themselves from being buried.
Some managed to run away, others pulled themselves free, and the unlucky ones were swallowed entirely.
The Dark Lord vanished before he was engulfed, satisfied with the outcome.
As far as he was concerned, the giants had proven themselves, even if he didn't get to eliminate the Serpent, Jameson, or Dumbledore.
Other opportunities would come, and next time, he would throw the full might of his force at those who dared stand against him.