Chapter 57: Mortal

Rick had just apparated in front of Potter Manor after a very long day. The quidditch training this morning had been particularly gruesome for one. Coach Campbell wanted a win against the bats this year and he wanted it a lot. So much that despite their deal of free afternoons for Rick (which was still in effect) he had to stay and train more. Not like he really needed it as he had beat every single seeker he played against during the last season and the current one. Nevertheless it was late in the afternoon when Rick went to Gringotts for unpleasant business. Business that took hours.

With a long sigh he entered his home and shouted loudly to tell his wife and his mother that he was back.

“I’m home!” Putting his coat on the hanger he told the results of his visit to the bank as he made his way to the living room. “We’re the only Potter… now.”

It paused a moment in surprise when he saw a good number of people sitting in his living room. The Longbottoms were there, Moody, Sirius and Marlene the Shacklebolts, Connie Hammer, Dorcas Meadowes and to his surprise Edgar Bones. Of course Lily and his mother were present too.“I’m sorry I’m late.” he said after letting out a sigh. “The goblins gave me such a headache I forgot all about this meeting.”

“It’s fine, you’re not that late.” Lily said as she got up from her loveseat to give him a peck on the lips and led him back to her seat.

“What do you mean you’re the only Potters now? Did something happen to James?!”

“Besides me disowning him, I have no idea Sirius.”

“You did wh-”

“Sirius!”

Marlene interrupted her boyfriend because she knew he would react badly. The man in question simply glared at Rick instead.

“He brought him upon himself. Frank, Edgar?”

“I would have done the same.” Commented the latter.

“Sirius, what James did is inexcusable. Disrespecting the lord and lady of your own house like that in public is beyond wrong let alone putting his hand on a woman who never reciprocated his advances even once in almost ten years. What would you have done if instead of Lily it was Marlene?” Frank added.

The previous evening after the meeting, James had flirted again with Lily blatantly. This time however was slightly different. He was a bit drunk and got handsy. Forcefully handsy. Lily punched his face and broke his nose. When he pulled out his wand she simply disarmed him then had been quite clear that she had never been and never will be interested in him because he disgusted her.

She had tossed his wand to Remus, went to Rick, grabbed him by the arm and made an exit but not before saying that she was hoping to cheer everyone up by revealing her pregnancy and have a small celebration. That James should be ashamed because apparently he got the secretary he was sleeping with pregnant and yet was forcing himself on a married woman who was also the Lady of his House. She added that while she wasn’t quitting the order she would not attend the meeting anymore sooner than she had planned because of her pregnancy all thanks to James.

When they got home, Lily was more than upset and only the promise of Rick disowning James calmed her down.

“I just took his name and nothing else out of respect for Fleamont and Euphemia. Every single knut that Fleamont earned while he was alive was transferred to a new vault which James and James alone has access to. I can tell you the goblins had been on my ass for hours trying to change my mind about giving gold away.”

“...” Sirius didn’t know what to say. The anger he felt was replaced with sadness. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I don't recognize him anymore.”

“He has always been like that, Sirius. You never noticed because you were immature and because he’s your best friend. There are a lot of things that are wrong that we ignore because we love the people who do it.” replied Lily softly.

“Yeah, yeah, Potter is disowned, Black is sad, we get it. Can we focus on why we’re gathered tonight?”Moody’s gruff and deep voice put an end to the topic at hand. Rick began by praising Dumbledore’s character but put forward that he wasn't the right man to lead the fight. Proof was everyone here present. He talked about his idea to be proactive in dealing with the Death Eaters.

“And how do you want to do that?” the veteran Auror grunted. He liked what he was hearing.

“The taboo. We use the taboo in a prepared location for an ambush.”

Minus Frank and Alice who had been told, everyone’s mind froze after hearing such a simple way to deal with their opponents. Moody couldn’t help but laugh almost maniacally at the idea.

“The idiot! He created a tool of fear but also a weapon for the people that don't fear him! That’s… Damn! Why didn’t anyone think of that in the department?”

“As you said: fear. At this point Modly-shorts is the boogeyman and you don’t summon the boogeyman.” Rick replied.

“Eh, Moldy-short. More polite than the Dark Wanker I call him.” Sirius snorted.

“Okay, we summon death eaters with the taboo and ambush them then what?” Edgar asked.

“We capture them, hold them in a secret location and extract information anyway we can. Preferably veritaserum or if one of you is adept with legilimency or as a last resort…”

“Torture.” finished Moody. Many in the room either frowned or were squeezy at the thought. Lily and Marlene were included.

Rick quickly explains himself however. “Not the way you think. There won’t be any physical harm done to our captives; neither mentally. At least not through spells but by good old psychology.”

“Psycho- what now?” inquired Marlene.

“Muggle mind arts.”

“You’re kidding me?! Muggle?!” Moody interjected.

“It works. It’s just a deeper understanding of what I heard you do with your preps. More subtlety.”

Rick pulled out his wand and summoned a book on interrogation techniques from the library. He used a duplicating charm and everyone got one.

“You’re free to read this book or not. I strongly advise you do. It won’t cost you anything besides a bit of time. Regardless, it is a last resort. I’m sure Veritaserum will be enough.”

“I’m more interested in the prison. First, where it is, what’s the security and why not deliver them to Azkaban?” Inquired Kingsley.

“House Black owns an old castle in North Ireland. As for the security…”

Once again Rick used his wand. This time it was to summon plans and notes. Once again he made duplicates for everyone and handed them. That was quite a read for everyone.

“Shit lad, the only thing that would make it worse than Azkaban is if you add dementors.” Moody was clearly impressed and was almost jubilating at the prospect, which in insight, Rick knew was a bit disturbing.

“Gravity wards? Magic blocking wards? Auto-Portkey-back wards? That's not wards I know.”

“My creation, Sarella.” Rick replied to Kingsley’s wife. A rather thin and relatively short woman with a very kind voice. She was very good with charms and wards. “As you can see it’s… in a way better than Azkaban but more secure and most importantly, the prison would be in our hands, not in the hands of potential allies to Moldy-short like the dementors. And just in case I intend to put a Fidelius charm on it.”

“What’s that?” asked Alice.

“It’s a very old and powerful charm that hides a secret. Nobody would remember that the prison exists but the secret keeper. Only they can share the secret and only willingly. No veritaserum, no imperious and no legilimency could give you the secret.” Lily explained.

“On top of that, the people who are told the secret can’t share it either because they are not the secret keeper. Should you write the location on a paper, magic will make it so you won’t be able to read it. Your mind will ignore the words, just like you wouldn’t see the castle if you were just in front of it but not in the know of the secret. There are only two…three annoyances with that charm. One: if the secret keeper betrays you. Two: if the secret keeper dies, every single person he told the secret to becomes the new secret keeper.”

“Better protect the secret keeper then.” Connie commented.

“Yes. Lastly: you can’t make anything the secret keeper. Can’t make a cat or a house-elf for example.”

More questions were asked and plans began to form. They were interrupted however when a phoenix patronus went through the window and delivered a message. There was currently an attack on North-Hampton. Immediately everyone rose from their seats and went outside the manor to apparate.

The scene they arrived at was pure chaos. Loud screams, burning buildings, spells flying everywhere.

“Shit! They have Giants!” Frank said wand in hand and cast a spell at the nearest target he saw.

“And werewolves!” Shouted Moody a dozen feet away.

“I’m taking care of the giants!” Rick answered and began running towards them.

He apparated onto the rooftop of a nearby building, gaining both altitude and a clear line of sight over the chaos unfolding below. Smoke drifted upward in thick curls, lit from beneath by fire and cursefire alike, casting shifting shadows across the shattered street. His eyes swept the battlefield in a second, sharp and calculating, before locking onto the twisted rubble scattered in the alleyway beneath him. With a flick of his wand, the debris trembled, shimmered, and reformed—rough chunks of broken masonry stretching and hardening into long, vicious spears of solid metal, thick as flagpoles and honed to brutal points.

They rose into the air before him, six in total, levitating in perfect formation, glinting in the dim light with deadly promise. He aimed in an instant, barely pausing to breathe, then unleashed his spell—magnetic propulsion humming low and lethal beneath the surface of his magic. The spears launched like lightning. Three drove deep into the first giant’s chest, snapping ribs and shredding muscle with the force of siege weaponry. The remaining two slammed into the second target, one burying itself in the side, the other skewering the thick neck just above the collarbone. The impact alone might have been enough, but Rick was not finished.

With a second motion, his wand slashed through the air and the spears responded mid-flight. Their forms shivered, shimmered, and shifted, the metal contorting invisibly. A moment later, jagged spikes erupted from within the giants' bodies—blades tearing outward through flesh, bone, and sinew in every direction. One let out a choked gurgle before toppling. The other collapsed sideways into a building, smashing stone and wood under its lifeless weight. If the initial strike hadn’t ended them, the internal detonation did. Either way, they were no longer a threat.

With those two down, Rick turned sharply toward the remaining three. Forty feet ahead, silhouetted against flames and swirling ash, the giants were closing in on a group of wizards. They were wildly firing spells, their silhouettes framed in panicked motion, but their magic glanced uselessly off enchanted hides. Rick couldn’t identify them through the thick smoke and leaping firelight, but that didn’t matter. He could see they were human. That was enough.

Wasting no time, he summoned more rubble into the air, transfiguring it as he had before, the spears forming with sharpness at his command. The process repeated itself, seamless and devastating. He struck without hesitation, offering the giants the same fate as their fallen comrades.

Not wanting to be a stationary target, he apparated near Moody, Hammer, Meadowes and the Shacklebolts who he had seen to the corner of his eye.

“The giants are dead. How is it going?” he asked, using a shield charm to protect himself and Moody from a death eater who was attacking the veteran auror from behind.

“Longbottoms and Bones went east to join a part of the order, the others south to deal with the werewolves.”

“You’re good here?”

“Yeah, we’re holding up nicely. Go.”

Rick nodded and began to run in Lily, Marlene's and Sirius’ direction. On his way he killed three death eaters, having a twisted kind of fun by torturing a man in front of his wife and young son. Quickly, he transfigured a rubble into a rope and made a portkey.“It’s a portkey to the entrance to St. Mungos. Just say ‘out’ to-”

He sensed dark magic coming from his back and immediately pointed his wand to the ground to raise a thick earth wall. The green color and the explosion he heard on top of the feeling told him all he needed to know about which spell someone targeted him with.

“GO, NOW!”

The mother nodded and embraced with one arm her crying son while she gripped tightly her unconscious husband on the ground. Saying the activation word of the Portkey, she took her family away from this hell. Rick apparated just in time on top of the building to see his earth wall being exploded by what he recognized as a Bombarda Maxima. Looking in the direction of the origin of the spell, he saw three death eaters shooting spell after spell in the space he previously occupied and which was now a mess of smoke and dirt and dust in the air. Since his attackers didn’t notice he wasn’t there anymore he popped right behind them and in one wand movement separated their head from their shoulders. The sound of howls echoed into the night and he quickly moved south in the direction of their origins.

He arrived just in time to cast his plasma spell at a werewolf that caught off guard the love of his life. The beam of hot gas went through the beast leaving a cantaloupe size hole into its side. Lily was shocked beyond belief at what just happened. More that she almost died than Rick killed the threat.

“Get yourself together!”Rick got to her side as he shouted, sending a wide banishing spell at three werewolves that were going to overwhelm Sirius and Marlene. He counted eleven enemies and wondered how they were still fighting, not dead on the ground and feasted upon.

He created a huge pile of thin sand from the ground and transfigured it into silver.

“Bubblehead charm!”Lily cast the protective charm on herself without hesitation, the incantation leaving her lips with crisp urgency before she turned and did the same for Rick. He was crouched low, entirely focused, hands moving with deliberately as he conjured more of the fine, shimmering silver sand they had prepared earlier. Sirius followed suit, wand flicking as he secured his own barrier and then Marlene’s, who didn’t wait for instruction. Within seconds, all four of them were protected by the anti-inhalation charm, translucent magical shields encasing their noses and mouths like second skin. Rick glanced up, saw they were all ready, and gave no verbal cue. He simply acted.

The explosive charm he used was small in form but overwhelming in result. The silver sand detonated outward in every direction, a glittering storm of razor-fine metal particles erupting into the air like magical shrapnel. It danced and spun in the torchlight, swirling into the night like deadly stardust. The werewolves didn’t even pause in their charge. They barreled into the cloud, snarling and howling with bloodlust, but the instant they inhaled, everything changed. Their howls became sharp, strangled coughs, claws raking uselessly at their throats as the silver tore through lungs and sinuses. Panic flickered behind their yellow eyes. Some dropped immediately. Others staggered.

Sirius reacted before the next breath. He raised his wand and shouted the wind spell with unflinching focus, sending a concentrated blast of air forward. The Ventus caught the remaining cloud of silver and carried it like a wall into the ranks of the oncoming creatures who had avoided the initial spread. The metallic dust enveloped them in seconds. Screams and gurgles rose from the dark, but Sirius was already adjusting the stream, tracking movement. Marlene backed him up without a word, catching the werewolves who tried to flank from the side. Her spells came fast and precise, her face rigid with effort, forcing the beasts back into the lethal haze. They didn’t stand a chance. The few who tried to escape through gaps were corralled by Lily and Rick working in tandem, their Confringos bright and brutal, forcing the survivors into the mist like herded cattle. The blasts weren’t meant to kill—only to trap. The silver would finish the job.

Five minutes passed like eternity compressed into noise, fire, and breathing. Then it was over.

The last werewolf staggered a few steps, its body already half-collapsed, its claws scrabbling at the ground. One final shudder rippled through its frame before it collapsed and stilled, breath rattling once, then never again.

A terrible quiet followed. Not peace. Not relief. Just silence. The kind that settles over places that have seen too much death. Bodies littered the ground—some human, torn open by claw and fang; some monstrous. The werewolves had been wiped out. The only ones standing were the four of them. And none of them felt like victors.

Lily stared at the carnage for only a moment before doubling over, her hands braced against her knees as the reality hit her like a hammer. Her dinner surged up her throat, and she vomited right there on the stone, sobs caught between dry heaves. She hadn’t cast the killing spells. She hadn’t struck the fatal blows. But she had helped. She had cornered them. She had watched them die. That was enough.

Rick’s heart twisted at the sight. He reached out, wanting to offer comfort, needing to, but the moment his hand touched her back she flinched away, recoiling as though the contact burned. She didn’t even look at him. Just turned her face toward the ground. The gesture cut deeper than any spell, and Rick’s hand fell uselessly to his side. Marlene and Sirius exchanged a glance but said nothing. The pain was visible on Rick’s face, and the moment didn’t need words. They both saw it. They both understood. He had done what needed to be done. They all had. But necessity never softened the aftermath.

They had survived. They had killed. Those two truths sat beside each other, cold and unmoving, and neither felt like triumph. They had thought they were ready. They had trained, practiced, read the worst-case scenarios. But none of it had prepared them for the smell of blood, for the sound of choking, for the silence that followed.

Then, piercing through the stillness, a pulse of green lit the night. Their eyes snapped upward in unison. In the sky above them, swirling like poison ink through the stars, the Dark Mark bloomed.

“We should regroup with Moody. His group was small, they may need help.” Rick said and the couple nodded. Lily had gotten up and avoided looking at him. He said nothing but his heart broke even more. Traitorous thoughts went through his mind. The most prominent was he had lost her. He wanted to talk to her, to take her in his arms, to say he was sorry but he knew she would just get away. In silence he closed the march, looking at the back of his redhead.

Their pace was relentless, steady and unyielding, driven by the urgency of knowing that time was their enemy and hesitation would cost more than just strategic ground. The path they took remained oddly unguarded, with no opposition rising to slow them, no hexes flying their way, no sign of the enemy lying in wait. That unnatural ease carved tension into their steps, but it also allowed them to arrive quickly at the location where Rick had earlier parted ways with the others. Whatever sense of preparedness they had built during the run shattered the moment the scene unfolded before them.

The situation was rapidly deteriorating, not because of chaos or confusion, but for a far simpler and far more terrifying reason—Voldemort was present. Rick had never seen him before, never come face to face with the man behind the terror, but instinct recognized what logic already confirmed. It had to be him. There was no mask, no concealment, no attempt at disguise. The figure standing at the heart of the fray radiated a cold, predatory magic so intense that it seemed to drag the air downward. His skin was pale to the point of translucence, stretched over sharp, inhuman features, and his eyes held a fixed, burning cruelty that left no room for doubt. Beside him stood his most loyal Death Eaters, unmasked and resolute, their wands raised and mouths already mid-incantation.

The Order had arrived in force, their resistance fierce, coordinated, and unyielding, even against the odds. Spellfire arced across the battlefield, bolts of red and blue illuminating the night in jagged flashes, but it was clear the Order fighters were struggling to hold their ground. Against the Death Eaters they held their own through grit and determination, pushing back wherever they could. But the true danger was centered on the duel between Moody and the Dark Lord himself. It was a clash of raw magical power and brutal instinct, the veteran Auror throwing every ounce of his experience into the fight, countering curses and snarling defiance. Yet Voldemort’s movements were faster, more fluid, less burdened by the constraints of human fatigue. He didn’t dodge—he glided. He didn’t defend—he anticipated.

Rick moved fast, wand already in hand, the incantation barely formed before he released the explosive charm. The Bombarda hit with brutal impact, slamming into the cluster of Death Eaters and sending shards of stone and bursts of fire across the line, scattering several of them and disrupting their formation. But even as the spell connected, Rick saw that he had cast it a heartbeat too late. Voldemort had already acted. With a single, deliberate sweep of his wand, he unleashed a sickening curse that struck with the force of a blade sharpened by hatred. Moody’s body was twisted violently, his left leg severed horrifyingly just below the knee. The older man dropped to the ground in a collapse that was not graceful or controlled, but brutal and immediate, blood soaking into the dirt as his wand clattered beside him. The spell might have missed by seconds, but the consequences arrived all the same.

Standing in front of the down man protectively, Rick faced Voldemort. Lily quickly went to Moody and potkeyed him away to Potter Manor.

“Ah. Corvus and Lily Potter. We finally meet.”

Chalk white skin with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake. To say Voldemort looked human was a stretch and Rick wondered what the man did to himself to look like that. One thing was sure for him, it was the result of some dark magic.Lily was on her feet and tried to stand next to Rick, wand at the ready but he stepped forward in front of her.

“It seems you wished for this meeting to happen.” Rick remarked aloud.

“Of course. The tale of the two most brilliant wizards and witches of this generation reached my ears. How could I not want to meet with you?”

“Why? Intimidated because we got better grades than you did?”

“Hardly.” Voldemort’s chuckle sounded like sandpaper. “I wanted to give you an offer to join me. I’m not one to waste talent.”

“I doubt your followers would allow a muggle-born like me to be part of your ranks.”

“They do not allow anything.” Voldemort said coldly. “I order, they obey and they know better than to go against my orders. Now, what say you? Will you join me?”

“Join your organization of murderers? I don’t think so.” replied Lily.

“I don’t want magical blood to be spilled and would rather avoid it if possible. I deeply regret every drop of it that had been wasted. Unfortunately the necessary changes for a better Wizarding Britain can not be done peacefully.”

“A better Wizarding Britain? Where people like me will be either killed or enslaved? Where might is right? No. I will never join a group which follows such an evil ideology.”

“Evil? There is no good or evil, Lily Potter, there is only-”

“Power and those too weak to seek it.” Rick interjected and Lily diverted her eyes from Voldemort to her husband’s back of the head. She did her very best to not show the shock she felt.

“Yes. I see we are of the same mind, Corvus.” The wide and unnatural smile that graced the Dark Lord’s lips made Lily’s shiver.

“Not really, no. I just took a guess at what a sociopath like you would say. Not that difficult to do when supporters of amoralism are really limited in their philosophy.”

Voldemort’s smile disappeared and his facial expression was replaced by a stone cold one with a hint of annoyance. “How disappointing. And here I thought we understood each other.”

“Oh, I understand you perfectly, I just don’t agree.”

“Twice you refused to take the hand I extended. Usually, I would take offence at the first time but I, Lord Voldemort, am magnanimous. That is why I offer you one last time. Join me.”

Rick turned his head and looked at Lily above his shoulder. “Go.” he whispered, then turned back. As he did so, his wrist moved and he cast a cutting curse at Voldemort who used a shield charm to protect himself.

“So be it! DIE!”

The dark purple spell he shot toward Rick was bad news. Rick knew it, he recognized the spell. It was an organ liquifying spell. A very dark curse that would kill a target in less than a minute in a painful agony. With Lily behind him he couldn’t dodge so he let his instinct take over and used the tip to his wand to redirect the spell to the side.

“GO! NOW!” he yelled to his wife and engaged Voldemort in a duel.

Spells collided in mid-air, arcs of magic flashing like jagged lightning between the two forces as chaos erupted in every direction. The battlefield crackled with kinetic tension, energy vibrating underfoot with every detonation and redirected curse. In the midst of it all, Rick immediately understood the scale of the confrontation. This was no standard duel. This was not something training could prepare one for. This was war—and it would be brutal.

Voldemort was casting at a speed that defied comprehension, chaining together curses, hexes, and destructive conjurations with such fluidity and force that it took Rick less than ten seconds to recognize it. He had only ever seen that level of seamless, ferocious spellwork from one person before—his mother. It was not just speed, but cohesion. Every spell connected into the next with violent elegance, forming patterns meant to overwhelm, not just injure. Rick could keep up, but only by deliberately lowering the weight of his own magic. He relied on simple, fast charms—shielding wards, misdirection spells, stinging hexes that bought seconds rather than ended fights. It gave him just enough time to match the pace, but even as he moved, as his wand flicked through instinct and calculation, he knew it would not be enough for long.

Realizing this, Rick changed approach without pause. He wove transfiguration into his chain, disrupting the rhythm of the duel and forcing Voldemort to adapt. Defensive and offensive transfigurations began to appear between spell flashes—shards of stone rising mid-flight, ropes of liquid steel hardening in midair. He ducked and rolled beneath a slicing curse, then sidestepped a bolt of red light that shattered a boulder behind him. He kept moving, never static, applying the very lesson he had once overheard Charlus hammer into Marlene: a moving target is always harder to curse, but a thinking one survives the next volley. It worked. His pace improved. His options widened.

From the ruined earth, thick vines burst upward, curling around Voldemort’s ankles with crushing grip, barbed thorns digging into fabric and skin. They tightened instantly, pulling down with enchanted force. For the first time in the duel, the Dark Lord’s wand lowered out of necessity, turning downward to sever the transfigured restraints. Rick took the opportunity, his hand rising swiftly, plasma spell coiling at his wand’s tip with vicious intent.

But a curse struck him from the side before he could release it cleanly. A laceration charm, razor-sharp and unexpected, sliced into his ribs from an unseen attacker, tearing through flesh with a burning edge. His body twisted violently with the impact, pain flooding his nerves, and the spell went wide. It still struck. Just not where he aimed. Voldemort’s left arm disintegrated. No burst of charred muscle and bone, flung away in a splatter of blood as the scream that followed pierced the air with inhuman fury. Just ash.

Rick collapsed, his legs giving out as he hit the ground hard, teeth clenched in a grimace of agony as he fought the overwhelming urge to scream. The pain roared through his side, every breath a fresh blade in his lungs, but he held on.

Voldemort’s eyes locked onto him, wild with hatred, gleaming with murder. He raised his wand, carving a zigzag motion through the air that Rick instantly recognized. The pattern was unmistakable. It mirrored the shape of the Sowilo rune.

The incantation came as expected, shouted with raw malice.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A beam of green shot from his wand with terrifying speed, not simply light but death itself, condensed into a single streak of killing magic that screamed toward Rick with unstoppable force. He tried to apparate. The thought was there. The movement nearly followed. But the pain made it impossible to focus, impossible to shape the necessary intent into magical will. His body was locked in place, frozen between adrenaline and torment.

The curse surged forward, cutting through the air like a blade. Two feet from his chest, Rick saw the moment his own end arrived.

And then the earth moved.

A massive slab of stone erupted from the ground in front of him, conjured with desperate precision by a spell not his own. The killing curse slammed into it with full power, detonating on impact in a blinding explosion of dust and splinters. Shards of rock flew in every direction, the sound deafening, the light briefly erasing everything from view. What remained was a cloud of crumbling debris—and Rick, still alive, chest heaving, blood trickling from his side into the scorched earth.

“You’re not taking anymore lives tonight, Tom!”

“DUMBLEDORE!”Hogwarts’ headmaster walked into Rick’s line of sight and began to wave his wand around. From his down position Rick rose to his feet and saw Voldemort apparating away. He was quickly followed by his followers but he didn’t notice that. The pain flared and his side began to burn. He could feel the taint of Dark Magic inside his body. He tried to stay conscious but failed and the last thing he saw was dark red hair.Lily screamed her husband’s name as she leaned over his body.

“No, no, nononononono.”

She had torn apart his shirt to examine his wound and it was bad. Using her wand to try to put a stop to the curse from spreading she began to cry. She couldn’t stop his veins darkening.

“Lily! Dorea will know!” Marlene grabbed both her best friends and apparate away right inside Potter Manor.

“DOREA!”

In a matter of seconds the black haired witch was in the living room. She knew something was wrong and she got confirmation when she saw Lily trying to heal her son. Stomping down the horror, panic and fear she felt by using occlumency, she rushed to act.

Back in North-Hampton, Dumbledore had the order to tend to the wounded and to put an end to the fires. Just as he was about to get a report from Sirius, Edgar and Kingsley, the aurors showed up. Quickly everyone apparated away back to the Burrow, the Weasley family home which they had offered as a rally point for any actions the Order took in the south and South-East of England.

“Professor! What happened?!” Molly Weasley asked Dumbledore as she put a coat around herself, from the entrance of her house. She went to check on her little brothers Gideon and Fabian while Arthur, her husband, invited every member of the order inside his home.

“You-know-who was there.” Gideon answered in a tired voice as Molly was checking him and his brother for any injuries.

“And Potter almost got him.” Fabian added with a grunt while holding his ribs.

“He was-”

“So close.”

Molly’s eyes widened but she said nothing and instead chose to bring the twins inside. She made them sit where she could, the sofas and chairs being already taken by other members in worse condition. She came across her husband as she went to the kitchen.

“Dumbledore is in there, why don’t you make sure the children are asleep? He won’t be long.”

She looked at Arthur with worried eyes for a moment, nodded then left her husband guarding the door. Inside the kitchen Albus was finally getting the reports he wanted.

“- We did what we could, prioritising the people but it was difficult. They kept coming and coming. Had you not showed up with the rest of the order…” Dejected, Edgar shook his head.

“Sirius?” Dumbledore asked.

“Marlene, Lily and I went south. We heard howls coming from there. When we arrived on scene… It was a bloodbath. Some civilians were trying to defend themselves while the werewolves were either attacking or feasting on their victims.  Quickly it was only us three left and outnumbered four to one. Just as we were about to be overwhelmed, Rick showed up and saved Lily’s life. In a flash he was creating a huge amount of sand, then he told us to put on a bubble head charm. Afterwards he transfigured the sand into silver and spread it in the air all around. The ones who attacked us breathed it in and suffocated. Marlene and I used a Ventus to push the silver in the direction of the others while Lily and Rick were redirecting them inside the cloud. In less than five minutes they were all dead. Then the dark mark was in the sky and we regrouped with Kingsley’s team.”

Dumbledore let out a deep sigh, not liking what he had heard. He wanted to reprimand Sirius for the loss of life but he couldn’t. Werewolves were resistant to magic and dealing with one alone was not easy so four times the group numbers? He really couldn’t blame any of them. If it wasn’t for all the death he would have applauded Rick’s clever plan.

“Sarella, Connie, Dorcas, Alastor and I stayed where we arrived, dealing with the Death Eaters. Rick came back to help after dealing with the giants and to take knowledge of the situation. Alastor sent him South. Everything was going well until You-know-who and his servants showed up. They were not the run of the mill death eaters. Difficult to defeat. Alastor duelled You-know-who and it didn’t go well for him. He lost an eye and a bit of his nose I think but kept fighting. That is until Sirius’ team showed up. Alastor lost his leg and I don’t know who but someone shot a Bombarda at the group of death eaters who scattered allowing us to have the advantage if slightly. Rick stood in front of Moody, stalling while Lily sent him to St Mungos I think. Then… You-know-who started a conversation with the Potters.”

“About what?” inquired Albus.

“I don’t know, I was a bit too far and too busy dealing with my opponent but I know it ended in a disagreement since Rick attacked.”

“I know. I was close enough. Moldy-short wanted to recruit them and they told him to sod off. Rick engaged him and Lily made her way towards Marlene and me after Rick told her to go.” Sirius revealed, took a deep breath and drank from the glass of water in front of him, wishing it was firewhisky. “They were almost equal. Almost.”

That got Dumbledore’s attention even more.  “Almost?”

“Yeah. Moldy-short was faster but not by much. Then Rick changed tactics. He began to slow down but moved around. He made vines appear at Voldy’s feet to trap him. That’s when he lowered his guard to deal with them and Rick used a spell I don’t know.”

“That beam of light from his wand, hm.” Dumbledore was stroking his wand, trying to remember if he ever came across such a spell.

“Merlin’s balls! Were it not for that stray spell, Voldy would be dead by now and the war over!” In a bout of rage Sirius threw his empty glass against the wall. It shattered.

“What?!”

“Edgar, whatever spell Rick used, completely disintegrated You-know-Who’s off arm and everything behind it. Only because Rick’s aim was offset by the curse he was hit with did he survive.” explained Kingsley with a bitter expression on his face.

“If I catch the asshole that-” Instead of finishing his sentence, Sirius stood up and left the kitchen in search of alcohol and to cool down.

“This is both good and worrying news.” Albus commented. “Despite the casualties, tonight ended in a loss for him. Rick proved that he wasn’t invincible to his followers. Some may reconsider their allegiance knowing his survival is only due to luck. On the other hand, the Potters are in grave danger now. More than ever. He will not rest until he kills them personally to wash away the humiliation he suffered tonight.”

“What do you suggest? That they go into hiding? When Rick is going to be looked up by everyone to kill the Dark Lord once and for all?” Edgar questioned.

“That is if he survives his wounds. Who knows what curse he was hit with?”

“You’re right, Kingsley but I have faith that Dorea Potter will succeed in healing her son. Very few healers are as good as she is. The fact she was born a Black may help in knowing what curse it was.”

“Even if he makes it, he’s a public persona, remember? I wouldn’t put beyond You-know-who raiding a quidditch game. He knows where to find him.”

“No, I don’t think he will. While he is the type to make a public display of his power, a big long assault to deal with a whole stadium isn’t. Now it’s been a long night, I think we all need a good rest.”

Standing up, Albus left the kitchen then the Burrow. He had a lot to think about.