HP: A Magical Journey Chapter 410

Published at 27th of January 2023 11:37:49 AM

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The Aurors shrunk in their dragonhide armors as they saw the matchstick thin figure dressed in a simple robe walk towards them. There was a seemingly impenetrable ward between them which, while kept them outside, also kept what was inside from coming out. There were tens of them, but the sight of the man sent chills down their veins. In his presence, Augustus Rookwood, who walked along with him, seemed almost insignificant despite being an ex-Unspeakable and a notorious wanted criminal.

He stopped a few steps away from the ward boundary and leisurely watched a literal army of Aurors, and Hit Wizards assembled as though there wasn't even a shred of fear and caution in his mind.

“Gawain Robards,” called Voldemort.

All eyes turned to the Head Auror. Robards took a moment to gather himself before stepping forward, passing by Kingsley Shackleboth, who had his wand ready to cast.

“Dark Lord,” said Robards. “I would suggest that you stop this farce and free Hogsmeade. They are innocent people who haven't done anything to warrant this. Release them and surrender yourself alongside your Death Eater subordinates.” While Robards' voice and tone seemed as concrete as usual, his Aurors could tell there was a difference and knew the reason behind it.

“Oh?” voiced Voldemort, sounding amused. “Gawain Robards— Head Auror, quite an accomplishment. I remember you. . . you were a Senior Auror during my last reign. You were there, in the middle of it, part of the pointless conflict against me.”

Robards clenched his fist. He had experienced what Voldemort and his Death Eater in power felt and looked like. He had been part of the resistance against the vicious Dark Lord. Hearing his and his peers, friends' efforts being called pointless boiled his blood.

Voldemort's voice went flat and hard as he continued, “You were there in the middle of it all. . . so you should know about it. When have I never needed justifications to do as I wish. . . . I'm the rightful ruler, owner of this country, I can do whatever I want with it.”

“You!” Robards had no words in his shock.

Voldemort looked to Rookwood standing a step behind. The ex-Unspeakable stepped to the front, and for the first time, the Aurors noticed that he had something with him. The pressure from standing face to the Dark Lord had limited their observation. The bag with Rookwood floated beside, and when he pointed his wand to the ground, the black load dropped in front of them. Rookwood twitched his wand, and the seams of the black cloth came apart, revealing the bag's contents.

It took a moment, but a wave of gasps rushed the Aurors. Inside the bag was a man in bad shape, he looked like he had been beaten badly, but that wasn't what shocked the Aurors so much.

“Trent,” Kingsley muttered.

Trent Wilgams was a career Junior Auror who had no possibility to rise to Senior Auror because of his work ethic, ability, and leadership skills, which never rose to warrant him a chance at promotion. He had been positioned at Hogsmeade, and the village was his area of responsibility, along with a couple of younger Junior Aurors working him as their leader.

“He was found passed out at a pub, drunk out of his mind,” said Voldemort, looking at the roughed-up man with disinterested eyes. “Couldn't even put up a fight in his state, couldn't even open the clasp on his holster— such an embarrassment. . .”

Robards gritted his teeth in anger but held his tongue. He needed a little more time to think of words. There was an Auror in the terrorist's grasp; he couldn't carelessly say something that would put Trent's life at risk.

'The latest_epi_sodes are on_the Nov elB i n website.',

“I have demands,” declared Voldemort.

“. . . Demands?”

“I want the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Ministry as a whole to not interfere with what is happening here. If my demands are met, I shall let every one of the Hogsmeade residents, along with Hogwarts students and professors— bar Harry Potter and Dumbledore— leave here alive when I'm done. Of course, I can't promise the safety or mortality of the people if they oppose me. However, as long as they stay out of my way, I shall generously let them live to tell my tale.”

“That's—”

“If my demands are ignored or not agreed with, and the Ministry attempts to breach my ward, I will send every man, woman, and child I can set my eyes on into the embrace of death. I will raze the village and the castle to the ground and destroy the history along with the people. After I'm done with them, there won't be a Hogsmeade of Hogwarts. So think carefully before you do anything. If I see any attempts to breach my ward, I will take it as a refusal to meet my demands.”

Robards had nothing to say at the moment; he couldn't refuse, nor could he agree; he needed to think about it before making any decision, so he decided to change the subject. “The Invisible Vigilante has taken the children of your Death Eaters hostage,” he said. “He is asking for their parents in return for the children. I ask for those parents to surrender for their children's safety. If they come into our custody, we can negotiate with the Invisible Vigilante to let the children go without handing them to the Invisible Vigilante.” While he was in no mood to negotiate, there were still innocent people in that resort who still needed to be delivered safety— and this was how the best of both worlds.

Voldemort stared at Robards for a few seconds before turning away along with Rookwood raised Trent up with magic, making many Aurors shag their shoulders— but then Voldemort turned back. “It seems I haven't made myself clear.” He pointed his wand at Trent, and the wand tip glowed green.

Seeing that, Robards yelled with his wand going up, “NO!”

But it was all for naught, the green jet hit Trent's body, and everyone present knew what had taken place.

“As I said before, the Ministry doesn't interfere,” said Voldemort before again turning back to walk away with Rookwood following him. “Just remember what you will be forcing upon the innocent people if you try to get inside.”

“You monster!” A young Junior Auror yelled forth and raised his wand to Voldemort — “Avada Kedavra!!!” — A green jet coursed out and zapped towards Voldemort; it passed through the ward because there was no known magic known to stop the Killing Curse. Voldemort didn't even look back as an earthen wall rose up behind him and Rookwood. The green curse met the wall, and the magic was no more.

The dirt wall then crumbled, and Voldemort turned to look at the Auror. “Aurors casting the Unforgivables doesn't seem right. . . let me show you how it is done,” he raised his wand and chanted: “Avada Kedavra” —there was a green flash much faster than the Junior Auror, and it hit that Junior Auror in the chest, and the young man was dead. “There you go, two dead Aurors. . . what a waste.”

Voldemort looked at the Auror crowd before turning again; this time, no Auror stopped him as he walked away.

There was a long spell of silence as the Aurors stared at the dead body of Trent that had been left there.

“I get it now,” said Robards. Kingsley looked at him. “I get why he was so angry. . . seeing that,” he pointed at the dead body, “and knowing you can't reach it, and it will stay there. . . is infuriating.” He looked up at the sky, which had already reached the morning glow. “All of them are the same. . . doing whatever they want. . . not caring about anything. . . ignoring the law. . . causing harm, costing lives. . . all the fucking same. . .”

There was a moment in which Robards closed his eyes and didn't speak another word, “I'm calling the Unspeakables. They will find me a way inside and will do it quietly.” He turned to Kingsley and ordered, “I want Dumbledore in Hogsmeade when we find a way inside. I don't care what you, James, and Sirius need to do— pull in every Order of Phoenix favor you all have to, get yourselves in his debt— but I need Dumbledore out facing the Dark Lord while we clean up the Death Eaters. . . . Do you understand, Captain?”

“. . . Yes, sir.”

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Voldemort had threatened the Aurors to not interfere and warned them that if he saw them tampering with this ward, he would start dropping bodies. And he had meant every word of it. So, Death Eaters were sent to patrol the boundary from the inside to make sure the Aurors were keeping their promises.

One such patrolman was named Gerald, and scouting one of the many sections of the ward boundary was part of his duty. He bit on a slice of bread that he had got from a pub. Coming here had been a stressful process, and he had skipped two meals to calm his nerves. He hummed a tune to fill the empty space to fill it with something— and he was walking along checking the boundary when he heard.

“Daddy.”

Gerald stopped as if something had clutched his feet and legs. His body began trembling before he even turned toward the voice because he was afraid of what it was going to be. His heart beat as he turned, his throat cracked, and his eyes blurred as he saw a boy who couldn't be any older than five standing outside the ward.

“Daddy!” squealed the boy happily.

'',

Gerald took steps towards the ward boundary and dropped to his knees on the wet grass and mud. “Troy,” he croaked. “My boy. . . my baby boy,” he cried as tears began pouring out of his eyes.

“Daddy!” Troy giggled. “I want to play!”

Gerald inched closer to the wand boundary and was about to touch the silver glow when he stopped as its threat entered his mind. He then saw Troy moving ahead with his pudgy legs. Gerald yelled, “Troy, stop! Don't come here!” He couldn't lose Troy after he had lost him once. He had just gotten his baby boy back, and he wasn't going to let Troy leave him again.

“I want Daddy,” said Troy and took another step forward.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Gerald repeated. “Daddy knows another way; daddy will come to get you, so don't come here and go to the tree behind you. Daddy will come to you.” Troy went back as he asked him to do. But Gerald had other problems; he didn't know how to get out of here— they couldn't get out; there were orders, and if he broke them, it meant death.

'You can use Labyrinth door,' a voice whispered in his mind— his own voice. 'Take a Labyrinth door, step outside, and get to Troy?'

'The Labyrinth doors still work?'

'Yes, they do.'

'I-I need to find a Labyrinth door.' He looked and saw Troy playing with his favorite toy Quidditch player action figures. Troy looked at him and smiled as he waved. Gerald waved back.

'House-03, Street-12, Second floor. . . Mayer's house. Find it.'

Gerald got up and dusted his pants, “Troy, stay there; daddy's coming to you,” he said.

“Okay!”

Gerald turned, sprinted towards the Hogsmeade, and didn't take a look back. If he did, he would notice Troy staring at him with unblinking eyes, and even if he turned back, he wouldn't have caught the two stone-grey eyes gazing at him from the shadows.

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Quinn West – MC – Eyes cameo.

Voldemort – Dark Lord – I have made myself clear.

Gerald – Death Eater – Running faster than he had ever run.

Gawain Robards – Head Auror – Sometimes black and white are better than grey.

Kingsley Shacklebolt – Captain Auror – I'm worried. . . but I don't have any better idea.

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Chapter end