HP: Night of the Wolf

Harry didn't visit often enough as far was Charlus was concerned. With how busy he was, it was understandable. Since they had finished school a little over two-years-ago now, it was seldom that all of the former housemates were able to meet up together.

Poppy worked all hours of the day at St Mungo's. Minerva spent all her time at Hogwarts, and Augusta was living her life with Frank. When it came to the boys, Charlus had been learning how to run the Potter family, and now did so for the most part. Tiberius was similarly being taught the ins and outs of his own line, along with how the distillery operated, and Harry…

The less said about what Harry did, the better.

It remained a sore point for all of his friends, but they no longer mentioned it.

It would do no good to.

Still, Charlus was pleased to see Harry, even if there was an odd tension between him and his parents.

Charlus couldn't fathom why. They and Harry had always gotten along well, and though the conversation between them was polite, it was as if something hung over them, something Charlus knew nothing of.

"It will be nice for us all to get together again," he commented. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

Harry shook his head and offered Charlus an easy smile.

"No, I'm looking forward to it," he declared. "I am surprised that it was Tiberius that arranged it. I haven't heard from him in a while."

"Me either," Charlus replied. "He did say he would be away for a while, something about visiting some fields the Ogden's purchase their crops from for the distillery."

"Ah, he did mention that in his last letter," Harry remembered. "He never asked us to meet before, did he?"

Charlus shook his head.

"No, it's usually Poppy or Minnie who arranges it."

Harry chuckled.

"They did both say they would when we graduated," he reminded Charlus. "How is Poppy doing anyway? It's been months since I've seen her."

"As well as you'd expect," Charlus snorted. "She's loving being at the hospital."

"And what about you? How are you finding the extra studies?"

"Hard," Charlus huffed. "At first, Dumbledore left me to it, but now, he's assessing me regularly."

He didn't mention his own work, the training he was completing alongside his studies.

His father knew, he must. He had commented about the missing books from the Lord's library, but had not chastised Charlus for it, not even the family grimoire.

"You didn't expect it to be easy forever, did you?"

Charlus grinned.

"I thought the git wouldn't be so hard on me. He's starting to push me as much as he does Minnie, and she's always practicing."

"Aww, poor Charlus actually having to work for something," Harry mocked.

Charlus nodded.

"It's worth it, just the same way what you do is."

"You can say that again," Angelica muttered.

Charlus frowned at his mother.

"Alright, what is going on?" he demanded. "You've all been acting strange all evening and I want to know why."

William looked shot his wife a look of irritation, one that she returned.

"You should have told him from the start," she chided.

"Told me what?"

"About Poland," William sighed.

"What about it?"

William released a deep breath.

"Poland was a disaster," he muttered. "We had a few more than a hundred men, and when Grindelwald's lot arrived, they had more."

"How many more?" Charlus asked.

"A few thousand," William shrugged.

Charlus shook his head in disbelief.

"But how did you get out of there, how were you not killed?"

"We were saved by someone. They set a series of traps before they came, and then he stood against Grindelwald."

"And a few thousand men?" Charlus chuckled.

William nodded severely.

"That he did."

Charlus shook his head.

"Who the bloody hell is mad enough to…"

He turned sharply towards Harry who offered only a nod of confirmation.

"You?" Charlus spluttered. "What the hell were you doing there?"

"My job," Harry answered simply.

It took a moment for Charlus to find the words he wanted to say. There were so many things, so many emotions he was experiencing.

"You're a Hit-Wizard, Harry! It's not your job to fight Grindelwald."

"He is a criminal like every other I've arrested."

"No, he isn't," Charlus denied hotly. "Grindelwald is a madman who has started a war. He has an army, Harry."

"And so will the ICW soon enough," Harry pointed out.

Charlus knew not what to say.

He was shocked by what he had learned, angry that he hadn't been told sooner, and terrified for the two men seated at the table with him.

"How did you escape?" he asked, his thoughts lacking clarity.

"Harry negotiated that he would remain behind and that he and Grindelwald would fight," William explained.

"And he accepted that? He let you and Yaxley go in favour of having Harry stay. Why would he do that?"

"Because he wants me dead more than anyone else," Harry interjected before William could answer. "I have arrested a lot of his followers, and it would be better to be rid of me than your father who is fighting to defend his country."

Charlus deflated.

"I knew something like this would happen."

"Don't be silly Charlus," William huffed. "No one could have predicted what would have happened in Poland. We were lucky Harry was there."

Charlus nodded.

"You were, but I didn't mean Poland. I meant you," he said, looking at Harry. "I knew you taking this job would be dangerous. You don't even have a reason, it's not like you need the gold."

"It's not about the gold," Harry sighed. "It's about doing something I'm good at."

"So, when does it end, Harry? When you're dead and it's down to me and the others to bury you and just move on?"

"Charlus, you're being unfair," Angelica broke in. "We do not like what Harry is doing any more than you, but it is his choice. If it wasn't for him, your father would not be sitting here with us now, and it would be him we are burying."

Charlus knew that he was letting his emotions get the better of him, and he did not wish to fall out with either his parents or Harry.

Instead of that coming to pass, he stood and excused himself, unable to trust his temper much longer.

If Harry really had saved his father's life, then he was grateful, but that didn't change how he felt about the two of them being on the continent when war was on the verge of breaking out.

This was only the beginning, Poland being one of many battles to come where he was expected to sit back and simply cope with two of the most important people to him fighting for their lives.

He wasn't angry with Harry nor his father.

They were only being true to themselves and doing what they both thought was right, and in truth, Charlus respected them for it, but it was not an easy thing to be a spectator to.

"Come in," he called as a gentle knock sounded at his door.

It was his father, the Lord Potter wearing an unusual expression of guilt.

"I'm sorry, son," he said sincerely as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "I should have told you sooner."

"You should have," Charlus replied stiffly. "You or Harry."

William released a deep breath.

"I suppose I was trying to protect you," he sighed. "I do understand what you're going through, Charlus."

"Do you?"

That was not the right question to ask.

"I watched my own father march off to war," William reminded him. "He never came back, and I don't want you to experience the same thing."

His irritation tailed off as he finished speaking and it was Charlus's turn to feel guilty.

"How did you cope with it?" he asked.

William shook his head.

"You don't, not really," he muttered. "Maybe I've always been bitter about what happened to my father. He left the running of the family to me when I was still in school when all I wanted to do was go off and fight in his place. He was right, of course. It was my responsibility to ensure our family continued, as it is yours now."

"But Harry…"

"Does not live the same life as us," William pointed out. "He is not a pureblood and does not have the same responsibilities that you have. You will be needed to ensure our government doesn't collapse, to continue protecting wizarding Britain."

"I know," Charlus sighed. "It's just not easy."

"No, it isn't," William agreed.

Charlus still wished he'd been told sooner.

"Did Harry really fight him?"

William shook his head.

"It didn't come to that, but he would have," he answered, "when Harry arrived, everything came to a standstill. Even Grindelwald was wary of him."

"Why would he be wary of Harry?"

His father balked at the question, a flicker of panic crossing his features as though he had said too much.

"Well, Harry has quite a reputation across the continent for how good he is at his job," William said dismissively.

"Dad?" Charlus pressed.

"It's not my place to say," William returned firmly. "If Harry hasn't told you, I'm sure he has his reasons. I won't divulge his secrets, Charlus. He saved my life, and I am indebted to him."

Charlus nodded his understanding.

He was not happy that things were being kept from him, but he trusted his father, and he trusted Harry.

Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't be speaking to his friend about what had happened in Poland further when the opportunity presented itself.

(Break)

It had taken a while to establish his hold over Poland since Gellert and his followers had liberated it. As with Bulgaria, his men had been plagued by pockets of resistance for several weeks resulting in a few unpleasant incidences and deaths of a number of locals.

The natives were a stubborn lot, but he believed now they had seen an end to the last of the troublemakers.

"What are we going to do about the prisoners, Gellert?" Perseus asked, breaking into his thoughts. "They are an uncooperative and churlish lot."

The scars from the explosion he had been caught up in marred Perseus's features, his skin bubbled across the left part of his brow.

Despite the best work of the healers, the scarring remained, the young man's once handsome face no longer so.

Not that he seemed to be bothered by it.

Perseus went about his business as usual without complaint, and with more determination if nothing else.

What had happened in Poland had humbled him at least.

"I am working on it," Gellert assured him.

That he was.

For months he'd had a team working on a solution, a prison that would make the most infamous institutions across the globe seem like holiday camps.

Gellert wasn't opposed to disposing of dissidents permanently if needed, but he was not aiming to wipe out entire populations of magical folk.

No, that wouldn't do.

A stint in a rather grim establishment of his own creation should be enough to give those that would oppose him time to reconsider their stance.

"So, we keep them as they are for now?"

Gellert nodded.

"We have the men here to do so," he pointed out. "How is recruitment going?"

"We have almost made up for the numbers we lost," Perseus informed him. "I have kept everyone here as instructed."

"Good," Gellert replied.

He couldn't risk more of his men either being captured by or falling victim to The Serpent, not until Gellert was ready to proceed with his next move.

"The men are becoming restless," Perseus explained cautiously. "There are whispers that you are scared of him, that's why they are being kept here. Some of them think you're weak for letting the ICW lot go."

Gellert frowned, his irritation rising.

"Is that so," he muttered as he stood and left the study.

"Where are you going?"

"To give the men their chance to air any grievances they have."

"Do you think that is for the best?"

Gellert continued on his way as he offered his response.

"I think it is preferable to the alternative, don't you?"

Perseus said nothing in reply, and as Gellert reached where the men were encamped, the murmurings began.

"Perseus, have the prisoners brought out to me. The rest of you, assemble all of those you can find."

With curiosity, the tasks were carried out, and only a few moments later, the majority of Gellert's forces were stood before him.

The prisoners being held were lined up at the front, around thirty in all in various states of starvation with some having been beaten quite badly.

"Who is responsible for this?" Gellert demanded, pointing to a man who was being held up by two of his comrades.

None answered and Gellert approached one of his own men a short distance away.

"Who is responsible?" he whispered.

"I-I don't know."

Gellert hummed thoughtfully as he moved to the next man along.

"Who is responsible for these injuries."

The man shrugged, and Gellert sighed.

"I do despise silence when I ask a question."

In a fluid motion, he removed his wand and the shrugging man screamed as a series of popping and snapping sounds were heard. He fell limply and unmoving to the ground, dead in only a matter of seconds.

Gellert shook his head disappointedly, but instead of speaking to any more of his followers, he approached the wounded prisoner and leaned in closely to address him.

"Can you see the man that did this to you?"

The prisoner glared at Gellert through his blackened and swollen eyes.

"It is not me you're angry with. No, you believe you are, but someone here has been harming you and your friends. I am giving you the chance for some revenge. Now, do you see him?"

The Polish man spat on the ground and nodded, wincing as he brought his arm from around the neck of the man he was leaning on.

"Him," he croaked pointing at a large man amongst the ranks.

"Good man," Gellert praised, patting him gently on the shoulder, turning his attention to the follower that had been identified. "Why have you seen fit to harm this man?"

"He's a prisoner."

"And that gives you the right to hurt him?"

"He was not doing as he was told and can't keep his mouth shut."

"I see," Gellert muttered. "Hand me your wand."

"Excuse me?"

"Hand me your wand, I won't tell you again," Gellert warned. "If you don't, I will take it from you in a very unpleasant manner."

The large man reluctantly did so and Gellert returned to the prisoner and offered it to him.

"Take your revenge in any way you feel is justified," he urged, "but I must ask you to not harm any other. If you do, all of your comrades will be killed slowly. Do you understand?"

The man looked at the wand, and then Gellert in disbelief before accepting it.

"Wait, no!" the owner of the wand pleaded, only to be sent sprawling by a rather nasty curse that tore a large part of the muscle away from the left side of his chest.

"Continue," Gellert encouraged when the prisoner looked at him worriedly. "You need fear no repercussions from me, not when it is I that lives in fear."

With a scream mixed with anger and pain, the prisoner unleashed spell after spell until he collapsed to the floor, sobbing, and talking to himself in his native tongue.

"Do you feel better now?" Gellert asked, taking the wand back without facing resistance.

The Polish man nodded and Gellert gave him a smile of approval.

"You did well," he commented. "Now, you and your comrades will be granted a quick and painless death."

The sobbing suddenly ceased, but it was too late.

The prisoners had no time to protest as a wall of fire erupted from the ground and engulfed them, reducing them to several piles of ash that were carried off in the summer breeze.

The assembled men looked on in surprise, some sickened by what he had done.

"I understand that there are those of you here that doubt me," Gellert said. "Please, step forward and voice your concerns. I am giving you this one opportunity to do so. Let's not waste it."

None moved, their eyes transfixed on the scorched ground where the prisoners had stood, and the grotesque sight of their comrade that had been sacrificed.

"So, there are no doubts, no lingering questions you wish to ask?"

"It is not you that we doubt, Gellert," a voice spoke, the man not being one Gellert recognised. "It is The Serpent. He has captured many of us and killed many more. Some of us are wondering why you keep us here when we should be hunting him."

Gellert nodded appreciatively at the gumption on display.

"You are not prisoners," he pointed out. "You are free to come and go as you please, but I have asked that you remain here whilst we rebuild our numbers, where I can call upon you when we need to act, and yes, also for your safety. I am not foolish enough to say that The Serpent does not pose a threat to many of you, but by all means, feel free to muster a group and pursue him."

The man looked uncertain and Gellert cut him off before he could speak.

"Those of you that were in Poland witnessed what he is capable of. Do any of you wish to go after him?"

None deigned him with an answer.

"What would you say to those so eager to confront him?"

"That they would be foolish to do so," Perseus answered. "He is a dangerous and resourceful wizard, one that caught us by surprise. That will not happen again."

"It will not," Gellert agreed. "As we speak, plans to deal with The Serpent and his ilk are being prepared to be put into motion. I ask that you trust in me to be a man of my word. We will have our freedom, my friends, and it will come sooner than you believe. Now, if there is nothing else, continue with your own preparations and remember why we are here. I cannot promise that it will be easy, but so long as air fills my lungs and we all stand together, there is nothing that can stop us. Not even The Serpent who I will deal with in due course."

Those were his parting words, and though he did not receive and ovation from his men, he knew he had gotten through to them.

At least now, they would not be likely to voice any doubts they had, and that gave Gellert the chance to alleviate them in the interim.

"We must proceed soon, Perseus."

The young Black nodded his understanding.

"What would you have me do?"

"I would like you to send some men you trust to Denmark."

"Denmark?"

Gellert nodded severely.

"The muggles will need to secure a northern territory soon. There are German speaking people in Norway, and it is an excellent place to launch attacks on several countries from. A simple note from an educated translator should be enough to steer the Austrian in that direction."

"I will see to it at once," Perseus assured him, and Gellert returned to his study where he inspected the maps he had been poring over for many days now.

"Denmark," he murmured, tapping the country with his wand, placing his symbol on it.

(Break)

With the summer coming to its end, Minerva couldn't help but think that she had little to show for the past couple of months. She had been working tirelessly on the work Albus has set for her, and had spent time with her parents, but little else.

Harry had been preoccupied with work, and with Grindelwald pursuing his ambitions more openly, he had only become busier.

Minerva wasn't resentful as such. She just wished they had more time together.

Tonight, she would see him, but it wouldn't be alone.

The rest of the group would be there at the behest of Tiberius, and Minerva was the first to arrive at The Three Broomsticks.

Having had a long day of studying advanced theories surrounding the effect bone density had on organic transfigurations, she had ordered a Firewhiskey for herself.

"Minnie!" the eager voice of Augusta called as the woman entered, her skin more tanned than usual.

"Been somewhere nice?" Minerva asked with a grin.

Augusta nodded.

"Frank and I have just returned from a week in South America. He wanted to find a plant species he is hoping he can grow in his greenhouse."

"And you being the doting wife went with him?"

"Of course," Augusta scoffed. "The beautiful weather may have been the deciding factor," she added with a smirk.

Minerva chuckled, but stopped suddenly as she spotted an unwelcome visitor to the pub.

"What is she doing back?" she muttered irritably.

"Who?" Augusta asked, her eyes following to where Minerva's were locked.

"Cassiopeia Black."

Augusta frowned.

"I heard that her, her brother, and her father have sided with Grindelwald," Augusta mumbled. "That's why Arcturus Black is in charge of the family now."

"Harry said something similar," Minerva sighed as Cassiopeia vanished into one of the backrooms.

"Well, you just don't like her because she danced with him at my wedding," Augusta japed. "Are the two of you still dancing around each other?"

Minerva shrugged.

"Nothing has happened if that's what you mean," she explained. "With everything he has going on, I've not seen him much recently."

"Well, he's here now," Augusta returned, nodding over her shoulder, "and he brought Poppy with him."

"I had to drag her away from the hospital," Harry whispered before kissing Minerva on the cheek and then doing the same to Augusta in greeting.

"I was busy," Poppy huffed.

"And now you're not," Harry returned simply. "You have known about this for more than a week now."

"I'm warning you, Evans," Poppy grumbled. "Don't mess with someone who has access to dangerous potions."

Harry merely smiled in response and was saved further by the arrival of Charlus.

"How are we all?" he asked somewhat stiffly.

"Just waiting for Ogden now," Poppy mumbled. "He'd better not be late."

"Behave, Poppy," Charlus chuckled. "If he's late, it gives you a reason to curse him. I've never seen you so happy as when he's on the wrong end of your wand."

Poppy shrugged.

"It's been a while since those days," Poppy sighed amusedly. "I've not heard from Tiberius in weeks. He said he was busy and that he'd be in touch when he was back from his trip. I received a letter last week, and here we are."

"I wonder what he wants."

"I suppose he's going to announce his engagement," Harry predicted.

"Engagement?" Poppy scoffed. "He hasn't…"

"Thanks for ruining it, Evans," Tiberius interjected from the doorway of the pub. "I would have liked to have broken the news myself."

Tiberius wasn't alone.

With her arm looped through his was a diminutive blonde who was smiling nervously at the group gathered around the bar.

She was a beautiful woman, short, and with brown eyes.

Poppy seemingly took a disliking to her immediately, and it was Harry that greeted her first, taking her hand and brushing his lips across the back of her knuckles.

"Hello," he said warmly. "My name is Harry."

Tiberius gave him a nod of appreciation as the woman spoke in broken English.

"My name is Marianne," she replied, looking towards Tiberius for confirmation that she had spoken correctly.

"Marianne is Romanian," he explained. "She is learning English and is doing well."

"She is," Harry agreed. "Allow me to introduce you to the others. The ladies here are Minerva, Augusta, and Poppy."

Augusta was seemingly quite amused by Poppy's irritation, and Minerva found herself wondering why she felt such a way.

It wasn't as though she was interested in Tiberius. Certainly not in a way that would explain the jealousy she was displaying.

"It's very nice to meet you," Minerva offered.

"I hear very much about you all," Marianne said. "I am pleased to be meeting you too."

Minerva smiled.

"And this is Charlus," Harry finished, gesturing to the last member of the group.

Ever the gentleman, Charlus followed Harry's example by taking Marianne by the hand and kissing the back of it.

"Well, Ogden, you've certainly got nothing to complain about," he commented. "Seems like she got the bad end of this deal."

Harry snorted and Tiberius's ears turned red as he explained what Charlus had said.

Marianne tutted and rolled her eyes at the Potter heir, though a grin tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Tiberius is wonderful man."

Charlus conceded the point with a nod.

"He is," he acknowledged. "Alright Ogden, she got me there. What are the two of you drinking?"

"Anything but Firewhiskey," Tiberius pleaded. "All I have done for months is sample batches. I'll have some mead."

"And for the lady?"

"Vodka, please," Marianne answered.

"Just vodka?"

The woman nodded and Charlus shook his head as he waved the barmaid over.

"So, how did you meet?" Minerva asked interestedly.

"Well, Marianne's family owns one of the fields we purchase some of our crops from," Tiberius explained. "We grew close whilst I was there, and when it was time to leave, I didn't want to go without her. Luckily for me, she wasn't too keen on it either, and here we are."

"That's nice, Tiberius," Harry said sincerely. "I'm pleased for you, we all are."

Tiberius smiled brightly as he accepted the drink Charlus offered and took a sip.

"That's much better," he declared. "No more whiskey for me for a while."

"Don't let your father hear you say that," Charlus chuckled. "He might have let you pick your bride, but he won't be so keen on you picking your drink."

"He's not here now, so I'll enjoy my mead."

Charlus grinned as he raised his glass.

"To Tiberius and Marianne," he toasted.

The others chorused his words, some less enthusiastically than the others, but Minerva did not count herself amongst the latter.

She was pleased for Tiberius, and both seemed to be happy with whatever arrangement had been made for them.

(Break)

With Arcturus having refused to help her, and any connections she had in Britain uncertain, Cassiopeia had resorted to visiting a few of the pubs in Knockturn Alley.

She had hoped to hear at least a passing mention of The Serpent, but not even a whisper had passed the lips of any that frequented the less-than-savoury establishments.

What she did learn, however, was that Gellert, through his deeds, had inadvertently gathered himself quite the determined group of supporters here.

There was no one of note amongst them, mudbloods she believed, but it was a start.

Britain would eventually be brought into the fold, and the very beginning of that could be within the very room she found herself in.

A dozen or so had gathered in one of the parlours of The Three Broomsticks, a sloppy arrangement that required only a password to be admitted, and certainly not the right venue.

It would take only one person to overhear what was being discussed, and they would attract unwanted attention.

Evidently, whomever had organised the get-together believed the liveliness of the pub would be sufficient to conceal their own activities.

Cassiopeia had her doubts, but she decided to attend.

She was interested to see what, if any plans, the little group of renegades had devised.

"We all know why we're here," a large, bald man called, silencing the murmurings of the others. "You have all been chosen because we believe that you may be of a more open-mind than the uppity sods that are running the country into the ground."

Those gathered muttered their agreement.

"If something isn't done, Britain is going to be left behind whilst the rest of the world is thriving. What Grindelwald is doing is the future. We should be able to use magic where and when we wish. We should be the ones that have the world at our feet. Not the muggles, and I for one am sick of it."

"That's all well and good, but what do you suggest we do about it?" one of the invitees asked.

Cassiopeia was interested in hearing the response and leaned forward interestedly as the bald man spoke once more.

"The way I see it is that we have two choices," he began reservedly. "Firstly, we can remain in Britain and drum up as much support as possible. When the time comes, we act and welcome Grindelwald when he arrives."

"That's risky," the man he was responding to pointed out. "If anyone catches wind of what we are up to, it's a one-way trip to Azkaban for all of us."

"Not if we are careful and conceal our identities. So long as we are careful, I do not see why it can't be done, but yes, it is the riskier option."

"But the most useful," a smaller, rat-faced man seated next to the bald one interjected. "Our second option would be to make our way to the continent and offer our services to him in person. I'm sure we would be gratefully received."

"And how would we manage that? Travel is being heavily regulated. You won't get out of Britain without good reason."

Cassiopeia nodded her agreement.

She was fortunate enough that she had a portkey that brought her directly to one of the family homes in the Yorkshire countryside.

It was unlikely that any of the men here had such a portkey at their disposal.

Only purebloods were granted them, and they didn't come cheap.

"We could reach France on the ferry," the bald man explained. "From there, it wouldn't take much time to cross into Germany. We could make it the muggle way without drawing suspicion, but it would have to be soon. Things are becoming tenser by the day, and I expect travel from Britain to the continent will be impossible."

"Then it would best for you to remain here," Cassiopeia broke in, ideas of her own forming. "I'm sure your efforts would be most appreciated. I could even explain that gathering support amongst the people here has begun. Gellert would be most pleased to hear it."

"Who the bloody hell are you?" the bald man demanded to know. "Who invited you?"

"I didn't," the rat-faced man denied as he drew his wand.

"My name is Cassiopeia Black," she introduced herself, "and I may be in a position to help you gentlemen, so long as you can help me."

"A Black!" the bald man spat. "It is your lot that runs the bloody country. Why would you want to help us?"

"Because change is needed, is it not?" Cassiopeia replied. "You said yourself that it should be our kind that sits atop the world. My family shares that belief. We too are tired of how we are forced to live."

The two men whispered heatedly for a moment before the bald man addressed her once more.

"Can you really help us?"

Cassiopeia nodded.

"I will help any that wish to assist Gellert," she said sincerely.

Before the bald man could respond, a thumping on the door was heard.

"I would like you to leave," the voice of the barmaid demanded. "I'll have you know that I have called the aurors."

"Shit!" the bald man cursed as he shot to his feet.

"Calmly, gentlemen," Cassiopeia called over the panicked voices of those gathered. "There is no evidence of any wrong-doing on our part. We will leave together. I will manage any aurors if necessary."

The men in the room seemed sceptical, but since they had little choice on the matter, they nodded their agreement.

(Break)

"What's wrong, Harry?" Minerva asked.

Harry frowned as he saw the barmaid frantically whispering to one of the other members of staff, an expression of deep concern prominent, one that was mirrored by her colleague when the barmaid finished speaking.

"I don't know, but something has them worried," he replied, nodding to the women.

The barmaid suddenly hurried from the bar and returned a moment later before disappearing towards the backrooms.

"She's just sent for the aurors," Tiberius broke in.

Harry hummed as he stood.

If there was trouble, perhaps he could offer his assistance.

The woman reappeared as he reached the bar and he waved her over.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, her usual smile in place, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked.

The woman swallowed deeply, her worry unable to be hidden.

"I've called the aurors," she explained quietly. "I went to take an order from the group in room three, and I heard something I shouldn't have. I had to do something about it."

"What did you hear?" Harry asked curiously.

The woman leaned forward, chewing her bottom lip in her nervous state.

"I heard a man talking about helping Grindelwald. He said they should get as much support in Britain as possible or go and join him."

Harry felt his stomach fill with dread at the revelation.

"Are you sure that's what you heard?"

The woman nodded.

"Completely," she assured him. "I've called for the aurors."

"And did you tell them that was what you have done?"

"Shouldn't I have? I didn't know what to do, I just want them to leave without causing problems."

"Well, I think it's too late for that now," Harry sighed. "They must know that if they're suspected of what you say they're up to, the first thing that will happen is that they will be administered Veritaserum. Treason is punishable by death," he pointed out.

"Oh my," the woman gasped, and Harry took her gently by the wrist to steady her.

"How many are in there?" he asked.

"Twenty, perhaps," she said uncertainly.

Harry released a deep breath.

Twenty would be difficult for any team of aurors to manage, and that was under the assumption an entire team would be sent.

"Alright, I want you to go about your business as normal and to let them leave if they come out of the room. There are too many people in here to risk a confrontation. I do not expect they will come quietly."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to stop the aurors from bursting in here and making things worse."

The woman shot him a sceptical look, but nodded her understanding and Harry rushed back to where the others were sitting.

"What's going on?" Minerva questioned.

"Do any of you know where the aurors arrive when they're called to deal with an incident here?"

"The arrival point is by the post office," Tiberius answered.

"Get there and explain that there are around twenty hostile people within the pub and that they're not to enter. Show them this," Harry added, handing Tiberius his licence. "Don't ask questions, Ogden, go now and take the girls with you."

"I'm not going anywhere," Minerva said hotly.

Harry huffed at her stubbornness but knew he would get nowhere arguing with the Scot.

"Fine, take Augusta and Marianne. I'll explain later," he assured the future Lady Longbottom.

Tiberius nodded and quickly led the confused pair from the pub.

"Harry, what is happening?" Charlus asked.

Ensuring that Tiberius had indeed left, Harry gestured for the remaining two to follow him.

He exited the pub via the front door and entered the alley next to it before erecting a privacy shield.

"According to the barmaid, there are some of Grindelwald's supporters holding a meeting in one of the back rooms. She called the aurors and then told them what she's done."

"Bloody hell," Charlus groaned in disbelief. "What did she do that for?"

"She panicked," Harry muttered irritably, "but the problem is now that they aren't going to want to be taken in."

"Not likely," Charlus agreed. "They'll put up a hell of a fight."

Harry nodded his agreement.

"They can't be allowed to escape," he said urgently, "but they must leave the pub. I need a few minutes to put some spells together, can you get me that?"

"We can," Charlus assured him.

"Harry," Minerva said worriedly. "Cassiopeia Black is in there."

"That's not good," Charlus sighed. "She's a dangerous woman."

Sirius had mentioned her to Harry once or twice, his words being something to the effect that 'he was pleased his great-aunt hadn't become a supporter of Voldemort or there would be two Bellatrix's running amok.'

"Alright," he said thoughtfully. "I will handle her, just do what you can."

With a nod, they left the alley and Harry set to work.

If Cassiopeia was indeed a supporter of Grindelwald, Harry would need to be careful. One wrong move on his part whilst confronting her, and his identity would become known to the one man he needed to keep it from.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he finished his preparations.

With what little time he had, he'd done an admirable job, though he knew his work wouldn't hold up against the strain of someone as talented as Cassiopeia Black for long.

If he was fortunate, and the aurors arrived in a timely manner, they wouldn't need to.

The one thing he had in his favour was that those attempting to escape wouldn't attempt to apparate before they reached the designated zone. Their travel path would be traced if they did so.

With that in mind, he returned to the front of the pub just in time to see a large group spilling out, and Minerva and Charlus sprung into action, doing all they could to keep them feeling the area.

Cassiopeia was the last to leave, and as she did so calmly with her wand drawn, Harry took his place several feet in front of her.

"Evans?" she questioned, surprised by his appearance.

She took a cursory glance around her and was taken aback that it wasn't the aurors attempting to apprehend her companions but two civilians, one being the son of a prominent lord.

She cackled amusedly.

"Do get out of the way," she urged. "I will only tell you once, and it would be such a shame to kill my last dance partner for being a do-gooder."

"I don't thi…"

Without warning, the woman fired a rotting curse in his direction, and Harry batted it aside just in time.

She was fast, her reputation for being formidable with her wand well-earned.

"So, you're not without talent," Cassiopeia mused aloud. "Sorry, Evans, nothing personal."

Her attack continued, and curse after curse left the tip of her wand whilst Harry avoided and swept them aside.

She was an excellent duellist, perhaps the best he'd faced besides her master, but she was not him. She was not Grindelwald armed with the Elder Wand.

"FIGHT BACK!" she screeched, becoming quickly frustrated by his defensive approach.

It wasn't that Harry was reluctant to do so, but he wanted to take a moment to understand the spells she used, to become familiar with her style.

Nonetheless, he complied, and using his wand in such a situation for the first time since he had completed the ritual, he waved it in an elaborate arc and the evening sky was illuminated by the emerald fire that burst from the tip, a feat of magic that garnered much attention from those attempting to flee the village.

With a trill, the large phoenix descended upon the surprised woman, and it took much effort on her part to direct it away from her.

When the fiery creatures vanished in a shower of sparks that scorched the pavement, she stared at Harry wide-eyed, a look of abject disbelief across her features and the sheen of perspiration on her brow.

"Impressive," she conceded before unleashing another torrent of spells, this courtesy of the Black family magic.

It wasn't until a purple bolt flecked with yellow flames was sent his way that Harry became concerned.

He had read about this spell in the library in Grimmauld Place, and it was impossible to counter unless one knew the exact method to do so. That knowledge belonged only to the Blacks.

Avoiding it, Harry knew he could not allow her to continue peppering him with spells.

He had hoped that she would grow tired from her efforts, but Cassiopeia showed no signs of fatigue. If anything, she seemed more energised than ever.

With a nod to himself, Harry went on the offensive, ripping away some of the cobbles from the street and banishing them towards her, transfiguring them into arrows as they shot in her direction.

Cassiopeia dealt with them with a plume of fire from her own wand but didn't have time to offer a rebuttal as Harry followed up with another attack.

Looping his wand above his head, he drew in a ball of air that he directed towards the woman.

The force of the magic displaced several more cobbles as it streaked towards her, the only sign of the magic being the destruction it left as it tore across the street.

Cassiopeia dived away, and Harry redirected the magic into the sky where it exploded with the rumble of thunder, the ground below his feet trembling from the force.

"AURORS! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"

Cassiopeia shot him a final look of shock before she vanished via portkey, the arrival of the aurors spurring her action, and Harry turned his attention to what was unfolding around him, cursing under his breath at her departure.

Men were running in all directions, pursued by the thankfully large group of aurors that had finally arrived.

In their desperation to escape, they began apparating away, likely only into the arms of another team of aurors that would track them down.

In less than a minute, those that manged to apparate were all gone, and only a few had been apprehended, perhaps five at most.

Harry shook his head as he made his way towards where Charlus and Minerva were eying him, both seemingly as shocked as Cassiopeia Black.

"What the hell was that?" Charlus asked. "How did you do it?"

Harry shrugged.

"It's just a spell I've been working on."

Charlus snorted.

"They would have felt that all the way at Hogwarts," Minerva sighed. "I'd best go and explain what happened to Armando. Don't give the aurors too hard a time," she added, kissing Harry on the cheek before taking her leave.

"Dad said that you were good," Charlus muttered after a moment of silence between them. "I knew you were, but I've never seen anything like it. Cassiopeia Black is feared for a reason. Lots of people celebrated when she left Britain."

"She should be," Harry replied. "She's very good."

"But not as good as you," Charlus chuckled.

Harry offered the man a sad smile.

"He told me what you did for him in Poland," Charlus sighed. "Thanks, Harry, for being there."

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say on the matter.

He understood how difficult all of this must be for Charlus. He too had been on the outside looking in when those he cared about had gone to war against Voldemort and he had been made to watch.

It was not an enviable position, and it was not somewhere Harry would want to find himself again.

"It looks like the aurors want a word," he pointed out, nodding towards the men in red robes that were approaching them.

"Well, my dad won't be happy about this," Charlus chuckled. "He's done all he can to keep me out of trouble."

"Sometimes trouble finds you," Harry replied.

"True, but that won't stop him or mum giving me an earful."

Harry laughed.

"I don't know what you find so funny," Charlus huffed. "This is entirely your fault, and I'll make sure they know that."

"Wait, I can't be blamed for this," Harry protested. "It wasn't my fault."

"They don't need to know that," Charlus replied with a grin before approaching the aurors.

Harry could only shake his head.

William would be unhappy, but Angelica would be beside herself.

"Bugger," he muttered, glaring at Charlus's back as he followed him.