The Fate Within Our Hands (HP SI)

[Sakumo]

August 30, 1991, On the not so distant future:
"Dumbledore," I remarked, coming face-to-face with the Hogwarts' Headmaster after years of not seeing each other, the last time was since the Potters have passed and the Longbottoms have been rescued. It was a surprise that the man himself sent me a letter two days ago to meet in one of his… peculiar haunts.

"Indeed, old friend," the older man replied, with a small smile gracing his lips. "How fare are your travels?"

"Good enough," I answered dismissively before getting straight to point, "Now, what did you call me for, Albus?"

"I see that you are still not mincing words," Dumbledore observed with a slight chuckle, "Very well, have you went over our theories about Lord Voldemort?"

"We have heard and studied Magic long enough, Albus to know that there are only few things that can make one immortal," I remarked as I realized we were atop in one of the buildings in Muggle London. "There are still a few things I would like to go over to be sure. What of your own search about him?"

"I have been trying to acquire memories of people who were acquainted with the young Tom Riddle, before he became Lord Voldemort. But my search had hit quite a snag on his mother's family, the Gaunts."

My ears perked up at the mention of that old pureblood name, "The family of Parselmouths?"

"The very same, Aldwin," Dumbledore confirmed. "His mother Merope Gaunt, his uncle Morfin and his grandfather Marvolo."

"We should not be discussing this so brazen and openly," I replied, switching topics. "I heard that Nicholas Flamel had entrusted you his stone?"

"Quite so," the Headmaster replies without skipping a beat, "The attempted breakout in Gringotts had Nicholas and Perenelle made up their minds that Hogwarts is the safest the stone can be."

We fell to a few moments of silence before Dumbledore spoke up again, "Young Harry Potter will be starting his education in two days, no doubt there will be fanfare and speculations arising once more."

"That is the bane of fame, Albus," I said with a wry grin. "Skeeter is going to be publishing a book you won't like."

"Truly? What about?," he asked perplexed.

"If I remember correctly it is about Dippet. 'Armando Dippet: Master or Moron', such a farce of a biography. Now I remembered why you banned her in Hogwarts for a reason…"

​

---

November 12, 1977, MacMillan Ancestral House:
"Emmeline Vance, Benjamin Fenwick," I spoke, surprised that two Order members were standing in the entrance of my ancestral home as I was alerted by our wards. My brother, the Lord MacMillan was currently travelling the world and tasked me to lodge here for the time being. I knew this was a possibility, that Dumbledore will contact me once this war started nine years ago, and so far had been unsuccessful in getting a hold on me, until today.

"Sir MacMillan," Vance spoke without skipping a beat, nor suspicious how I knew of their names, "Professor Dumbledore sent us for you."

"And what does Albus want me to do?," I asked testily, "I am not beholden by him."

"We know that you're the one who hid Edgar Bones' family to safety," Fenwick cut in, his rather large frame imposing and intimidating. "And Dumbledore knows that you've been supplying the Order and the Ministry some information about the Death Eater attacks."

I sighed gruffly before explaining, "I've fought the last war, Mr. Fenwick, as someone working in Law Enforcement like you would know, it is not a pleasant thing. Dumbledore's passiveness will get many killed. I don't want to deal with the riffraff like Bagnold and I won't claim the moral high ground like Albus, I just want to do the right thing without external influences."

The two were briefly chastised before Emmeline tried to speak before I raised my hand to stop her. "Something is wrong," I murmured, my eyes sweeping the surroundings. "Wands out."

Fenwick was quick to comply, it seems that his experiences as a DMLE officer taught him to attack first and ask questions later, Vance was slower on her draw, a bit hesitant.

"My family's wards and my own protective spells will keep this place standing at the moment," I said, before whispering furiously to the both of them, "You were followed!"

"We made sure to be discreet," protested Vance before suddenly figures rose in the pitch black night and a series of spells heading our direction.

"Shields!," Fenwick roared, raising a powerful Protego that collided with a sickly purple spell.

"They're using lethal spells," I announced, "Then we must return with the same ferocity. Aureus Fulgur!," I intoned, with my wand unleashing a chain of golden lightning that homed on the nearest attacker, shocking him fatally. I quickly transfigured a nearby tree to a small bear while Vance and Fenwick were holding their own.

"We need reinforcements," I said before defending myself to the slew of spells heading to our directions.

"On it," the other man replied, producing a Patronus of a Toad that seemingly leapt from his wand. "Send for Albus Dumbledore, we encountered some Death Eaters!"

"Dumbledore may not like methods but this will help us. Cover me," I said contritely moving my wand swiftly and raised our my home's enchanted guardians, bringing to life the lion statues that adorned our home. With some of the attackers momentarily unfocused, I seized on the opportunity and released a Expulso curse to an unsuspecting Death Eater and a stunner on the next.

"Vance," Fenwick called out as the woman nodded as she aimed for another attacker, "Stupefy!"

"Are you mad?," I said in between the fighting, "Aim to kill!"

"We need some of them alive," she retorted. "How can we get information with them dead!"

"Focus on the task at hand," Fenwick reminded as he tackled two at once before he outdueled the first before getting hit by a curse by the second one.

"Damn," I gritted out. "Are you alright?," I asked the downed man.

"Yeah, got hit by a slashing spell, I can shake it off," he replied with a pained expression.

"No you can't," I said, giving him a hard look. "Vance, get over here and apparate now!"

"But-," the woman tried to say but I insisted once more.

"We're going to the Prewetts' house," she called before disappearing with a crack. Now alone, I gripped my wand tightly as I tried to counter at least five more people attacking me. "Protego Maxima," I murmured before unleashing a string of cutting curses. I can hear their laughs as they shot spells yet again. Before I can retaliate however, the cavalry had arrived in late fashion.

"DUMBLEDORE!," one of the attackers cried out as they did not want to face the wrath of the Headmaster, and the one that defeated Grindelwald centuries ago.

"THAT'S MOODY!," another said before they hastily apparated out of the area, they did not have time to even recover their downed comrades as they fled. It seems that the combined presence of Dumbledore and the hardened Auror had intimidated them to not risk even if they have the superior numbers.

"Aldwin-," Dumbledore tried to start as he approached me before I held up my hand. "We will talk later, Dumbledore and do not expect it to be pleasant. Where do you and your 'friends' meet."

Albus merely sighed but capitulated, "The Prewett's house in Devon," before handing me a note. I did not dignify him a response as I left quickly to the said location.
​

---

Minutes Later:
"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at the Prewett Properties, London," I spoke silently as the rather inconspicuous house appeared. Before I can open the door, two red-haired twins looked at me suspiciously. "Are you the MacMillan bloke Emmeline and Benjy tried to visit?"

"That would be me. If you don't believe it, here's the note Dumbledore gave to me," I said, the first one quickly read the note while the other one trained his wand at me.

"That's Albus's writing alright," one twin said finally.

"Then he's safe," the other agreed. "Gideon Prewett," he said while pointing himself, "Fabian. The others are at the room just across the hall. What did Dumbledore and Moody say?"

"Nothing yet. But there will be words," I supplied. "Are Vance and Fenwick safe? The bloke got hit with a stray one."

"Benjy got hit pretty good in the arm, but he'll walk it off," one of the two replied.

"I'll stay and wait for Dumbledore," I said to the two, who narrowed their eyes to me before shrugging.

"Suit yourself."

A few minutes later, the door opened, revealing Dumbledore, Moody and three others, I glared at the Headmaster before greeting Moody.

"Alastor," I called out the Auror, his hair long and now with streaks of gray and silver in his auburn mane. "How are you, old friend?," I asked, offering a hand.

"Good enough, Aldwin," the man practically growled. "I'd say that between you and me, you did what was necessary in offing those chaps, pureblood or not they were still scum after all."

"Did you get the names of the dead?," I asked quietly as the rest were filtering in the Prewett's house.

"Well two are in St. Mungo's now - Theodore Mulciber and Nox Avery, you killed Walden Macnair. Mulciber and Avery are not that close to their Lords of their Houses, and Macnair - well, he's one the Ministry's so this will be a shock to old Milicent."

I muttered curses under my breath as the last one of the Order entered the meeting room which we were situated.

"We're in the clear, Albus," one of the Prewett twins relayed to Dumbledore as we used their house for this meeting. "Gideon and I fortified the protections in this place since Molly and Arthur and the kids started visiting us every now and then."

"Our gratitude for your hospitality as always, Fabian, please give Molly and Arthur, young William, Charles and Percival my regards," Dumbledore spoke, his tone warm and grateful. "Let us all take a seat."

Fabian Prewett nodded as the rest took seat in the long dining table. I elected to stand, so did Moody who was naturally wary of everybody and a dark-skinned witch.

"I would like to start on what happened today," Dumbledore announced, his eyes trailing Vance, to Fenwick then mine. "Emmeline?"

"No," I said, startling the group, "I know you mean well Dumbledore, but you got the balls to set loose your members to me?," I said angrily, glaring at the Headmaster who was a little uncomfortable. "There wouldn't be a fight in the first place had you not tried the stunt you pulled. Haven't you thought that with your people going to the MacMillan family home that you placed a target on my family's back!"

"Aldwin," he started before I cut him off yet again, "You sent Vance and Fenwick to either test where my loyalties lie or to recruit me; tell me I'm lying."'

Dumbledore sighed, "That would be correct, Aldwin. I hoped you remained unchanged on where your ideals lie,"

"And they are still where they lie, fighting the good fight as we both did in '44!," I exclaimed.

"See here, Albus, you may not confide with me like you do to Minerva, nor trust me implicitly like Doge, Hagrid or Alastor, but do not take me as a damn fool. Keep those secrets of yours and maneuver people like they are pieces on your chessboard but should you ever try and cross me," I continued, inching closer to the older man. "We may have a problem with that. You know what happened to Bauer and Anton Zabini now, would you?"

My words made Dumbledore raise his eyes in alarm and I heard Moody and Doge elicit shocked sounds. Helmut Bauer was the German Head of the Auror Office from the 1920s to the '40s and Anton Zabini was well-known to be talented even amongst the Zabini Clan, both ardent followers of Grindelwald. By 1945, Bauer was still formidable but an old man and Zabini was careless and arrogant when they confronted me.

"I haven't forgotten," he said with a cautious voice. "You haven't lost your ruthlessness, old friend," he said albeit subdued. While Dumbledore is still a league or so above myself, even he is cautious around the likes of me. Fresh out of Hogwarts, it was a terrible slap of reality when we travelled to Europe and waged war with Grindelwald's followers.

It was there where I became familiar with my old Transfiguration Professor, and his cadre of his own followers much like today. Only then, they were not blindly following the aged Headmaster, rather they looked at him as if they were peers and criticized him when needed. Only Alastor and Minerva question this old fool but still.

"Good. Now what will the Order do now that this Dark Lord and his Death Eaters are not going to stop anytime?," I asked, addressing the room. They seemed to be intimidated but it was Frank Longbottom who spoke up. "Well, we know we don't have the numbers to fight the Death Eaters head on, but we gather actionable intel on where and when are they going to strike and hopefully we can tip off the Ministry or try and mitigate the damage ourselves."

"We also keep watch on certain creatures and we've been attempting to establish a network of informants in different parts of Britain and internationally. My family is well-connected so I've been trying to do that lot," Marlene McKinnon supplied.

I nodded, "Then face it, the Order is outnumbered, may it be 10 to 1, 20 to 1 it doesn't matter. You forget, Dumbledore, that it is different when we faced Grindelwald since it was a global war; this is a localized threat and Voldemort," - a collective wince from the other members, "Is shaping up to be the most dangerous wizard since him and his followers made Grindelwald's lot honourable. We have to be cautious."

"What do you suggest we do, Aldwin?," the Headmaster asked, no doubt suitably chastised by my reprimand.

"We have already heard whispers Voldemort is recruiting many foul creatures under his command - giants, vampires, werewolves and more. Fenrir Greyback is a headache for Britain and he is wanted in several more countries, we need people to discreetly track his movements," I said and judging by their reactions they were already informed of it.

"I'll do it," a rather man with greying, shaggy beard said quietly.

"Thank you, Caradoc," Dumbledore said as he acknowledged the man. "And so will you, Dorcas?"

The dark-skinned woman who was standing, nodded, "Yes, Professor."

"It would be best to watch over the Ministry too. Can't be too sure these days," Alastor spoke up his input to which Dumbledore nodded. "Me and Longbottom - Frank, will do it" he declared.

"I shall carry out our network of informants, Professor Dumbledore," McKinnon said quietly. "Alice had already volunteered to help, her connections as an Auror will help tremendously."

"A wise move," Albus praised. "Gideon? Fabian?"

"We'll station in Hogsmeade," one of the Prewett twins decided, "There has been attacks near Hogsmeade that one can't help but feel that the village will be next."

"Sturgis, Mundungus, may I burden you with the task of you both do best?," Dumbledore requested the two who nodded.

"We'll handle the folks at Diagon Alley," the man name Sturgis replied.

"I fear that I will be preoccupied in my duties as Headmaster for the time being; Elphias may I ask you the burden of informing me the Wizengamot's updates yet again?"

"I will see to it, Albus."

"Very well, I'll inform Hagrid of his own undertaking," the Headmaster said after a few moments. "Aldwin, I hope these arrangements satisfied you?"

"You may have just given us more time, Dumbledore. Vance, Fenwick, we will be working more closely next time," I said before leaving the house.
​

---

Dumbledore POV:
"That was intense," Gideon remarked as Albus watched his former student leave; Aldwin MacMillan was a hardened man, decisive and quick-thinking - a model Gryffindor had the Sorting Hat not decided him to be Ravenclaw. The MacMillans were highly respectable in Wizarding Britain, and most of their reputation the past few years was due to Aldwin's accomplishments. Hit Wizard, Department Head, Order of Merlin and a seat in Wizengamot.

Albus knew that his old friend will take up arms, and it seems that his final push to participating was out of safety for his family. It was evident when Aldwin had sheltered Edgar Bones' family when they were nearly targeted by the Death Eaters.

"You should've seen him when we were in Hogwarts," he heard Alastor say with a vicious grin. "I was in my second year when he became Head Boy, and Grindelwald's ramblings resonated with a lot of blood-purists at that time; let's just say that he gave those sympathizers a hard time when they were at school. Isn't that right, Albus?"

Albus sighed, "Indeed, Mr. MacMillan does not tolerate such views. After graduating he joined the ICW's Hit Wizards and earned a reputation there," he revealed with a grim tone. "And he has not slowed down."

"We were outnumbered three to six, Headmaster," Benjy Fenwick said as he nurses his injured arm, "He's quicker and posed more of a threat to the Death Eaters than me and Emmeline combined, had a powerful shield charm too."

"I'm surprised he was the one who offed Bauer," Alastor continued thoughtfully, "I would've paid galleons to see how that turned out," he continued with a relish. Once again, Albus was thankful that men like Alastor were on their side.

"What does it mean that we'll be working closely next time?," Emmeline asked out loud to which Albus perked up slightly.

"It seems that Mr. MacMillan has approved of your and Benjy's actions, Emmeline," he said with amusement. "You must have impressed him well enough to work with the two of you. If that is all everyone, thank you for coming - meeting adjourned."

​

 

[NutakuFan]

Wait, MC isn't an overpowered bastard with out of context powers? Sign me up!

 

[Sakumo]

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, November 15, 1977:

It has been decades since I last stepped on Hogwarts, and the captivating presence of the castle really draws witches and wizards alike. It is no wonder that many claim that the school as their first true home - a sentiment that I fully agree to. Stepping inside, I navigated my way to Dumbledore's office, where I encountered two familiar faces.

"Merlin's beard, Mr. MacMillan!," exclaimed Horace Slughorn with a jovial smile. I internally sighed; while Slughorn was indeed a personable man, I merely found himself too…extroverted for my tastes.

"Professor Slughorn, I read of your two latest papers; remarkable insights as expected from you," I supplied with a respectful tone, offering a man a slight bow. "Minerva, you look dazzling in green as always, but I got to ask, where is the Gryffindor pride?," I added as a jest.

Horace merely chuckled, waving off the compliment while Minerva only gazed at me unimpressed, "I will have you know that it is merely my favorite color, Aldwin; I am and always will be proud to be a Gryffindor."

"We never had any doubts," I replied, still smiling. "Is Dumbledore in his office?"

"He is. The password is Exploding Bonbons. Honestly, what ridiculousness does Albus want with this passwords," the Deputy Headmistress huffed, to which Slughorn and I shared a laugh. Taking my leave, I said the password as I ascended to Dumbledore's personal office.

"Ah, Aldwin," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

"Dumbledore," I greeted the older man back. "I will not join the Order, however," I emphasized the last word, "I will guarantee you that I will help fight Voldemort and his followers."

The Headmaster's shoulders sagged as he spoke, "I had hoped you would have reconsidered at that particular thought."

"I haven't."

"Very well then. You are not beholden to me as you quite put it. You shall do what is best."

"Good," I said, "Can you spare anyone for tomorrow? I am going to follow up on something, and it would be better to have some capable wands with me."

Albus considered for a moment before replying, "With many of the Order members tasked with missions there are only quite a few options," he mused aloud. "I assume you are familiar with Dedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge?"

"I know Diggle in passing, he's an odd fellow isn't he?," I commented, "And I've worked with Doge enough when I was in Wizengamot, another of your old friends," I muttered. "I'll them both but I have someone in mind. Someone who can be quite creative and at home when we deal with Muggle Londom."

"May I know the name of this individual?," he asked curiously.

"Arthur Weasley," I answered.

"But surely," Dumbledore pressed, his attitude of geniality replaced by seriousness, "Arthur has a family to take care of, his youngest just turned a year old last August. He is not a member of the Order, Gideon, and Fabian would not approve, and so would I," he said firmly.

"Then I will press the issue no longer," I said simply. "Who else can you spare, Albus? I need someone who can blend in, you know."

Dumbledore steepled his hands with a tired expression, "I'm afraid they are all I can give you, Aldwin."

Disappointment flooded my features, "Can I add my own pick then? She isn't with the Order, but she can be very helpful in our endeavors. One that has no family to take care of, and is young enough to do legwork than the both of us."

The Headmaster's eyebrows rose as he once again questioned my choice.

"Gethsemane Prickle," I answered truthfully. "I've known her since she graduated from Hogwarts five years ago. We can trust her."

Dumbledore took a few moments of contemplating, piercing me with a look behind his glasses before acquiescing. " Miss Prickle and Messrs. Doge and Diggle it is then, Aldwin."

"The latter two aren't my first choice, but I am hopeful they'll be good in the field, Albus," I grumbled. "And yes, even your friend Doge will be an asset."

"If I may ask, what would the four of you do for tomorrow?"

"Scouting," I remarked. "I have a source that they've been blending quite too well with the muggle populace and causing minor but still very present trouble. I have a feeling they will escalate soon, and it would no doubt be a deadly and horrifying bloodbath for the Muggles if it did, but we need to locate where are their frequent targets and mitigate their damage, perhaps even giving Muggle London an Order member or two to act as guard."

Dumbledore nodded, his face thoughtful and calculating from my suggestion, "If you think it is for the best, then I see no reason not to attempt your plan. Even Alastor has counseled me of this, and with the both of you suggesting a similar plan, it is perhaps a wise course of action."

"It's settled then," I declared as the Headmaster nodded. "Very good, I will start making preparations. I will be off, Dumbledore."

"I wish you, Miss Prickle, Mr. Diggle and Elphias well, do not worry about your companions, they are quite formidable in their own way," Albus said with a tired smile.

"I have no doubt with that, none at all," I replied with a hint of dryness.

​

---

Muggle London, November 16, 1977:

The air was crisp atop the rooftop, the skyline of London stretching out beneath us like a tapestry woven in smog and steel. I had chosen this vantage for a reason—unseen, but with clear sightlines.

I waited in silence until I heard the softest pop behind me.

"Elphias Doge," I greeted without turning.

"Aldwin MacMillan," the man supplied, "Two years I believe, since you kicked up a fuss about the state of the DMLE and resigned from Wizengamot."

I snorted amusedly, remembering that instance, "The Ministry seems slow as ever, only reactive in their actions rather than proactive."

"You've roused some mutterings with that stunt," he revealed, "Barty Crouch is considering weaponizing the Aurors, the Hit Wizards and the Patrol Squads to more…deadly spells."

Raising a brow, I commented, "Then he must be the one sane man in the Ministry, or he is an extremist. Given what I know about Barty, it might be because he is at his wits end and he wants to look good."

"That depends to be seen, but change is change regardless," he replied with an indifferent shrug, but I can tell that there is cunning behind his eyes. Elphias Doge might be recognized as Dumbledore's stalwart old friend but the man is not without his own connections and smarts. One cannot survive being a Special Advisor to Wizengamot, a diplomatic liaison of the British wizarding community and a key confidant of Dumbledore's without being a talented man himself.

"Three more minutes," I murmured checking at my timepiece. "Have you received the message I sent?"

"Yes, it was informative. Although Muggle London is quite big, Mr. MacMillan, are you sure we might see some Death Eaters below?," he replied, gesturing the hustle and bustle of the streets filled with muggles .

"I doubt it, but if there is even a single possibility that they will be here, we will not take any chances."

A few minutes later, Dedalus Diggle with his rather conspicuous top-hat appeared, apologizing for the delay as he forgot the time.

"No worries, Mr. Diggle," I said with a sigh, privately rankled by the man's casual disregard of the schedule. "Now that we're all here—"

"I was told by Albus that we're expecting one more," Doge interrupted, his voice calm but probing. "One, that I may add, was at your insistence."

"If you mean Miss Prickle," I said, looking at the older wizard, "then you will not be disappointed in learning she is just at that rooftop." I pointed at the gray-colored rooftop occupied by a woman wearing an eccentric mix of Muggle and Wizarding clothing just three houses from our location. Seeing my hand, Gethsemane waved and as she did so, a small Augurey perched into her shoulder.

Doge's shocked face suddenly became red, "That is a most blatant offense to the Statue of Secrecy, Aldwin! An Augurey can be seen by Muggle London for Merlin's sake!"

"That bird is a key asset for us, Doge. She will release it once we go down there and it will act as our eyes and ears—Prickle has a connection with the bird...even better, she can understand it."

I can tell that Doge wanted to argue more, perhaps to do things as methodical as possible, but I held up a hand, forestalling any more words from him. "I command this mission, Mr. Doge, not you, not Dumbledore, and not even the Minister of Magic and lives are at stake. So with respect to your decades of experience and intelligence, this is about saving lives, sir."

Suitably chastened I turned to Dedalus Diggle, who was watching our little exchange with a nervous expression. "What do you think about our plan blending it, Diggle?," I asked brusquely. "You know Muggle London the best, can we watch over it in a span of forty-eight hours — there are witches and wizards down there, I can feel it."

"If we can somehow put tracking charms of them," the eccentric man said with a stutter, "then yes. We need to identify which of them are Death Eaters, and which are normal wizards and which are Muggles, Mr. MacMillan."

"Very well," I conceded, "But keep your wands to yourselves for now, unless absolutely necessary. Place some body modification spells in your face, and alter your features. We're doing this incognito." I applied a cosmetic charm to my face, and gave myself a tattoo on my left arm, while changing my hair to blonde.

We then apparated down, closer to the muggle populace as we moved about, eyes alert.

"I frequent here and I think I may have seen some of these faces but you never know," Diggle spoke thoughtfully as we scanned through the streets. His eyes trailed for a while before he tapped me in the shoulder. "You recognize those two fellows?"

My eyes followed his line of sight as I nodded and spoke quietly, "Igor Karkaroff, highly skilled in the Unforgivables, Russian with refugee parents from Grindelwald's war. The other one is one of ours — Herakles Selwyn, first-cousin to the Lord Selwyn and employed by House Avery as hired muscle."

Doge nodded as he commented, "Those two are not the only ones, what about that one?" His eyes then roamed towards another dodgy figure — this time a lady. "And that one too."

"I do not know the other man, or that woman," I said begrudgingly. "How did you know they are wizards?"

"Call it a hunch," Diggle replied before he asked with an uncharacteristic fear in his voice. "Do we make a move on them then?"

"Not yet," I ordered them, "We must observe first, but we must prepare for the worst. Karkaroff is a deeply-suspicious man well-versed in Dark Arts. Selwyn's family are known for their unpleasant jinxes so be on guard as well. If we do make a move, I will handle Karkaroff and his partner, you both will handle the other pair."

"They're preparing something," Doge said, watching Karkaroff gesture subtly. "A message, perhaps. A warning. If they strike here, it will be a show of impunity."

Diggle hesitated. "Do we risk open conflict? Here?"

I looked to the sky, grey and heavy with impending with a misfortunate weather. I looked towards the gray-colored rooftop where Prickle and her Augurey were, yet neither were present there. I can spot the magical bird, circling around the area, its moaning faintly heard in the distance. If I remember correctly, whenever that bird moans, it signals an impending rain.

I turned my focus back to the street, where the quartet split into pairs.

"We must change plans, we split up. Doge, with me," I said, my tone sharpening and a hint of alarm in my features. "Diggle, shadow the other two. Signal if they engage civilians."

"What about Miss Prickle?," Doge asked quietly.

My eyes then trailed over a Muggle restaurant, where Gethsemane's ridiculous outfit was in full view. "She's also keeping track of the woman. She's about half a minute of walk, Diggle, catch up with her." The man in the top hat nodded, and not a minute later, was looking equally ridiculous with Prickle as they started walking closer to the second duo of Death Eaters, who was then flanked by another pair of unrecognizable faces.

A chill passed through my spine, debating if I should call the mission off, but I stayed my hand, as I nodded at Doge to continue moving.

We moved, silent as the rain that began to fall in light sheets, washing London in a chill glaze.

Then it happened. There was a large explosion in one of the shops, debris and glass flying everywhere.

Doge paled at once, "That was a Bombarda spell. They're attacking the muggles!"

I retrieved my wand at once, "I hope you're not that old not to fight unsupervised, Doge," as we approached the smoking shop.

Amidst the smoke, I saw the tall and gaunt figure of Karkaroff laughing lightly while Selwyn was evidently waving his wand for another act of destruction against the Muggles.

As if sensing us, Karkaroff turned and recognized my face.

But instead of cowering in fear, the Russian wizard displayed a cruel smile, "Who do you think you are fooling with that disguise you bastard! My mother and father once told me stories about you, Aldwin MacMillan, killer to many of Grindelwald's greatest lieutenants, and fighter for freedom! And you brought Dumbledore's lapdog with you, the Dark Lord will be pleased," he sneers at Elphias, who was now showing the calmness of a wizard in his late eighties.

"Then I hoped they told you no one escapes me without losing their hand or their head," I replied.

"Crucio!"

Doge moved quickly "You'll do no more destruction here, insolent pup!," he barked, the aged voice suddenly carrying the resonant boom of a wizard who had been on several decades of charmswork and duels.

A slab of debris formed into a circular stone shield, catching Karkaroff's sickly red Crucio squarely in the center. The spell hissed violently against the rocks, scattering crimson sparks into the falling rain, but Doge didn't waver.

Selwyn, seeing Karkaroff's attack suddenly flung a Knockback Jinx and an Expeliarmus at me, which I quickly countered with a stronger Protego Maxima.

"Doge, let's switch!" I commanded, dropping low as the wet wind whipped my cloak around my ankles.

Karkaroff's eyes widened, a manic, youthful arrogance twisting his gaunt features. "Two old relics from a forgotten war! You think your schoolyard shields can hold against the Dark Lord's—"

"Avis!"

I didn't wait for him to finish his monologue. A swarm of conjured, razor-beaked daws exploded from my wand, flying straight into Karkaroff's face. He stumbled back, cursing in furious Russian as he slashed his wand to incinerate the birds, but the distraction was all I needed.

"Oppugno!" I intoned, snapping my wand toward the shattered masonry of the bombed-out Muggle storefront. The jagged shards of glass and heavy brickwork rose from the pavement, transfiguring mid-air into a flurry of sharpened iron spikes that launched themselves at Selwyn, who had been battling Doge near us.

Selwyn's sneer vanished. He spun out of the way, his cloak tearing as a spike grazed his shoulder, and began wildly throwing cutting curses to shatter the incoming transfigured metal.

Meanwhile, Karkaroff had cleared the birds, his face flushed with rage. "Avada—"

"Ignem Noctis!" I roared, cutting him off before the green light could even manifest. A violent arc of localized dark-blue flame tore through the downpour, striking the pavement right at Karkaroff's feet. The kinetic explosion blew the concrete upward, throwing the Russian wizard completely off balance and shattering his concentration.

Beside me, Doge wasn't just standing guard. With a fluid, deceptively fast sweep of his wand, he hijacked the water pouring from the sky, freezing the rain mid-air into a dozen jagged icicles and sending them rocketing toward Selwyn like crossbow bolts.

"They seem to be anticipating this confrontation! They aren't panicking!" Doge called out over the din of the storm, his eyes darting down the alleyway. "Where is the second pair?"

"Diggle and Prickle have them!" I shouted back, keeping my eyes locked on Karkaroff, who was scrambling to his feet, caked in mud and bleeding from a scrape on his cheek. "Focus on the ones in front of us!"

I momentarily looked upwards through the haze of smoke and rain, seeing a brilliant flare of orange light illuminated the grey London sky, followed by the distinctive, high-pitched screech of an Augurey. 'They seem to still be in the fight,' I thought privately, 'Gethsemane is one tough lass before she gets hurt by these idiots.'

"Your Dark Lord chose the wrong generation to threaten, boy," I hissed.

I swept my wand upward, invoking the ancient, heavy transfiguration I had mastered in the fields of Europe. The very water pooling on the street rose up, twisting into the massive, roaring shape of a liquid lion. It lunged through the air, absorbing a blasting curse from Karkaroff without breaking form, and slammed into him with the force of a tidal wave.

Karkaroff was thrown through the glass display window of a Muggle clothing shop, crashing into the mannequins in a shower of glittering shards.

"Selwyn, fall back! Fall back!" Karkaroff screamed from within the ruins of the shop, his throat choked with water and blood.

Selwyn, realizing he was entirely isolated against a remarkably composed Elphias Doge and with me rounding the corner, didn't need to be told twice. He almost grabbed the bleeding Karkaroff by the collar but not before I targeted him with a Tarantallegra, making him dance wildly. Doge would add to the insult by giving the man a Stunner to the face.

Seeing Selwyn cornered, Karkaroff cursed and left the man as he ran, turned on his heel, and vanished with a sharp, violent crack of Apparition.

The street fell suddenly silent, save for the crackle of the burning shop and the steady thrum of the pouring rain. At the background, I heard people crying, calling for their mothers, and screaming.

Doge lowered his wand, his chest heaving slightly as he looked at the destruction. "The Statute of Secrecy is in tatters, Aldwin. The Ministry obliviators will be working through the night for this." He then looked towards me with horror in his eyes, "You must flee now, Aldwin. With the headlines you did killing Jugson and MacNair, you're already in thin ice with Bagnold! Go and I will handle this. Leave Miss Prickle — she's with the Ministry, after all — and Dedalus, they can help with the alibi."

"This is my operation, Elphias. And with that, so does responsibility of what happenes here," I growled, pocketing my wand and wiping the rain from my forehead. "I will not cower like some thief in the night. I must face the consequences of what happens here."

"For now you must flee," the older man insisted. "What do you think will happen to you if Bagnold or Crouch found you here? You will be shipped straight to Azkaban, war hero or not! Do you have any idea what happens if get yourself jailed?"

"Probably a Dementor's Kiss," I said with a dry tone.

"I have immunity as a Special Advisor to Wizengamot, my position is practically assured, they won't even bat an eye why am I here. Mr. Diggle is a frequenter of Muggle London, he too won't be subjected to intense questioning. Miss Prickle might even be hailed a hero by the Ministry from her actions today. All of us would be protected by the law, Mr. MacMillan, except for you. You have been the Ministry's loudest critic since you resigned. You cannot provoke a confrontation on this, you will lose. Remember, Bagnold hasn't even pulled you for questioning yet for what happened three days ago, as far as anyone is concerned you've been tending to your family home."

Diggle and Prickle emerged from the alleyway a moment later, Diggle looking disheveled but proud, while Gethsemane's Augurey settled back onto her shoulder, its feathers completely dry despite the storm. They were levitating one of the Death Eaters, who was unconscious and bleeding in his left leg.

"The tracking charm is active on the female," Gethsemane reported, a faint, sharp smile gracing her lips. "But there was a slight hiccup, two others were waiting for them as reinforcements so we never got to give tracking charms on the others."

Diggle pointed at the unconscious man, "This man was not so lucky, he got left behind by the woman. She seemed to be thinking of killing him completely."

I scoffed, "There is no honour among their ranks, nor is decency present among them, nor sense of mercy and judiciousness. No, Alastor was right, they are really scum." I then tapped my wand to his temple then extracted a memory. Gethsemane Prickle would hand me a viable to store the memory. I did the same to Selwyn and got another vial of memory from him.

I then faced Doge, "Should we bring them to Dumbledore or should we leave both of them to you?"

"Miss Prickle, Mr. Diggle, and I will be the ones to present these two to the Aurors. They will be subjected to a trial, of course, from the Wizengamot, which includes the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the Minister, and of course, Albus himself as Chief Warlock," the man said with a sigh. "Now go, Aldwin, and bring the bird with you. I will make sure that these criminals would not implicate you or us."

I looked at the buildings and the streets — torn down, broken, and burning as if a catastrophe had visited Muggle London. I gritted my teeth — civilians in the crossfire was never my intention. I gave a curt nod of thanks to Doge as the Augurey perched in my shoulder.

"I'll report this to Dumbledore," I said, the grim feeling of bitterness and satisfaction settling deep into my bones as I turned away from the burning wreckage. "We'll be here for London again."​