Rita sat in her home, reading the letter she received from Ted Tonks, not surprised that he was reaching out after the Prophet's latest article.
She skimmed through it, going through the brief account Ted provided, along with the invitation to interview Harry so that he could tell his side of the story. Glancing down at her own copy of the Prophet, she could understand why.
Everything the Prophet wrote was technically true, which allowed them to skirt the oversight board rules and avoid fines, if only just, but the way they portrayed Harry, as if he was some kind of villain in the making, seemed deeply personal.
She frowned, knowing that there would always be a certain segment of the population that loves sensational stories like this, scandals, and the like, and convincing them of the truth wouldn't be easy.
It wasn't as simple as telling the truth; even showing pictures taken from Harry and his friend's minds wouldn't be enough, not without including the actual words they said to each other during the confrontation, which wasn't possible with wizarding pictures.
She would need to find something else, the proverbial smoking wand.
She raised an eyebrow, getting to the part about the Werewolf Taskforce being under the purview of the Wizengamot instead of the DMLE.
It was unusual considering the task force was made up of Aurors and should therefor fall under the jurisdiction of the DMLE, but considering all the upheaval within both the Ministry and the Wizengamot she could see why Ogden wanted a say in how the task force operated, but something about it all still rubbed her the wrong way.
She considered going to Bones and getting her take on it, but ultimately dismissed it as a waste of time. As head of the DMLE and an acting member of the Wizengamot, there was no way she could trust her to be honest, not with all the secrets she was expected to keep due to her multiple roles within the government.
"Hmm," Rita said, getting to the part about Elwood. "This has possibilities," she thought out loud. "Elwood is as good as fired… he may be open to talking."
She would have to call in a favor or two, but finding Elwood shouldn't be too difficult.
***
Rita walked into Xeno's home, frowning as she thought about the conversation she had with Elwood.
"Hello Rita, something wrong?" Xeno asked, seeing the contemplative look on her face.
"Just thinking," Rita replied distractedly.
"About an article?" Luna asked, her eyes lighting up.
Rita nodded absently, sitting down on the sofa beside Luna before smiling at her. "Yes, and maybe it's something you can help me with, junior reporter Luna Lovegood."
Luna nodded eagerly before schooling her features like she'd seen Rita do countless times before, reminding herself this was serious business. "Yes. Of course, Miss. Skeeter. How can I help you?" She asked in her most serious voice.
Xeno and Rita shared a look, both of them hiding their smiles as Rita cleared her throat. "It's about the Prophet article," she explained.
Luna's eyes darkened. "They're all lies. Ginny told me so herself," she explained angrily. "Harry would never do anything like that!"
"I know Luna," Rita replied, rubbing her back soothingly. "I'm going to be speaking with Harry and the Weasleys soon about our own article about what happened, but I don't know them very well. I was hoping you could write a few things down about them. Their favorite foods, books, their jobs, that kind of thing."
"Why?" Luna asked, getting a confused look on her face. "Can't you just ask them when you talk to them?"
"It's your next lesson on being a world-class reporter," Rita smiled. "Building rapport is very important. It's the difference between the interviewee opening up to you, or throwing you out. Knowing the little things goes a long way. Do you think you can do that for me?"
"You can count on me!" Luna beamed, running up the stairs to get started.
"You're really good with her," Xeno complimented as he took Luna's spot on the sofa.
"I learned from the best," Rita smiled, patting Xeno's knee affectionately.
"So what did you want to talk to me about without Luna overhearing?" he asked.
"How this task force conducts itself," Rita replied. "Harassing people on the streets seems to be just the tip of the iceberg with them," she said, relaying what Harkwell tried to do with Daniela.
Xeno nodded solemnly, understanding why Rita had given Luna the busy work she did. She was far too young to learn about things like this.
"What else?" Xeno asked, suspecting there was more.
"It's strange," Rita admitted. "Elwood, he's been an Auror for a few years, but he didn't work with Harkwell before, not until the formation of the task force. Is that possible?"
"…It's possible," Xeno said, thinking carefully. "But not likely. The Auror force is small, too small for them not to know about each other. I suppose this Harkwell could have been on a special assignment, or undercover, but not for the entire length of Elwood's career."
Rita nodded, looking down at the picture of Harkwell in the Prophet, adding one more thing to the list of things she needed to get to the bottom of.
"There's something else too," she added. "Ted mentioned the task force doesn't report to the DMLE like the Aurors do. They report to the Wizengamot directly. Does that seem odd to you?" She asked, her knowledge of wizarding laws limited.
Xeno's eyes widened. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure that's what they said?"
".. Yes. Why?" Rita asked, seeing the shocked expression on Xeno's face.
"It was an article I wrote a few years back," Xeno said, standing up and walking to the bookshelf. "About the Rotfang conspiracy," he said, pulling out a thick book, and flipping through the pages.
"I had to go through half a dozen books written in old English, and do a deep dive into wizarding laws, government structure, legislation, and the like," he said, finding the page he was looking for, and handing the book to Rita.
"The only branch of government that can field an Auror force, militia, or any other group of armed wizards and witches to carry out the directives of said government is the DMLE," he explained.
"What does that mean?" Rita asked, her eyes widening this time as she considered the implications.
"It means the Werewolf Task Force has no legitimate authority to enforce laws, arrest, or even detain anyone," Xeno explained.
"So what can they do?" Rita asked.
"That's where it gets a little murky," Xeno admitted. "The Wizengamot can appoint witches and wizards to investigate things directly. The intention of the law was to assess whether a proposed law would have the desired effect, or if the costs would exceed the benefits, things like that."
"Just like any normal citizen, they can also defend themselves from attack," he added. "They can ask questions, but they can't force people to answer them."
"Does the Wizengamot know any of this?" Rita asked.
"That's a good question," Xeno replied, scratching his head. "I mean, Dumbledore would have known, maybe Fudge too, but with both of them gone, who knows?" he asked with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Ogden has only been on the job for a little while, and before that didn't do much of anything," Xeno said. "Our laws are also hundreds of years old, much of it written in old English, so interpreting them isn't exactly easy, and that's when you know what you're looking for."
Rita smiled, leaning on the tips of her toes to place a kiss on Xeno's cheek. "You're the best Xeno," she praised before going to the door. "I have to go talk to a few more people, but I think you just blew this whole story wide open."
Xeno blushed, touching his cheek as he watched Rita leave.
***
Harry sat in the Leaky Cauldron across the table from Ted, Draco sitting beside him as they discussed what to do about the Prophet.
"Rita said she's onto something," Ted replied, "but wants to keep it close to the vest for now."
"Is there anything else you can do?" Draco pressed. "Maybe go after the Prophet directly for damages? They can't just be allowed to get away with printing stuff like this," he said in disgust.
"They knew what they were doing when they printed the article," Ted replied. "I can file complaints with the Wizengamot, but it would drag of for weeks if not months for us to make our case, and that's more than enough time for them to move onto another article to discredit Harry with, starting the whole mess all over again."
"Our only real option is to counter what they are saying directly in the press, and trust the wizarding public to come to the right conclusions."
"I got my first Howler this morning," Harry interjected quietly. "It was from the wife of a man who died at the Ministry. He was just a clerk doing his job. He had a family, three young children. She blamed me for his death, said I could have saved him."
"That's not your fault, Harry," Draco said immediately. "It isn't your job or your duty to save everyone, and don't let anyone tell you it is."
Harry smiled faintly as Draco repeated what Merlin had told him earlier, almost word for word, but it didn't make him feel any better about what happened.
Ted nodded. "Draco's right. I was there with you, and while just about everyone else was running around like chickens with their heads cut off, you actually did something. Even after the attack, you stayed to organize everyone and get them the help they needed."
"Saw a lot of that after the war," Tom said, overhearing their conversation. "People get so twisted up in their pain and grief they lash out at everyone, even the ones that don't deserve it."
"Why blame Harry though?" Draco asked. "It's Greyback that did this."
"Fear," Tom said simply. "Deep down inside she know this isn't your fault, Harry," he said, squeezing his shoulder. "But she can't go after Greyback, not without ending up dead or worse."
"I've got a few informants at the Prophet," Ted added. "They sold a few more newspapers after the attack, but that's only because no one knew what happened, and the shock value of the attack on the Ministry. They lost a lot of subscriptions over it, and it's only got worse with their latest article."
"Roger, come over here for a second," Tom said, spotting his latest boarder sitting at a table by himself in the corner as he saw a way to cheer Harry up.
Remus looked up startled as Tom used the fake name he'd given him. He considered standing up and walking away, pretending he hadn't heard Tom, but with everyone now staring at him he knew it would draw even more attention to him.
He stood slowly from his chair, his chair scraping behind him as he made his way to the table Harry shared with his friends.
"Harry," Tom smiled. "This is Roger Howell."
"It's nice to meet you," Harry replied, holding out his hand.
Remus took Harry's hand, giving it a quick shake. "Thank you for what you did," he mumbled quietly before marching to the stairs and retreating to his room.
Tom frowned, watching as Roger walked away, no — ran away. After everything the man had said about wanting to meet Harry, he had expected more than that.
"Who was that?" Harry asked curiously.
"…He lives out in the country," Tom replied. "Roger got stuck here after the quarantine. He said he was a big fan of yours and wanted to meet you."
"Maybe he's shy," Ted said, with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Maybe," Draco said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. The way Roger looked at Harry, it felt very much like he knew him already.
Harry looked at Draco, about to ask him what he meant when they all stopped, hearing a scream, multiple screams.
"What?…" Tom said, a confused look on his face as he went to the door to investigate.
"No," Harry said firmly, taking Tom's arm and pulling him back. "Stay here. Lock the doors and windows."
"What is it?" Tom asked, alarmed now.
"Nothing good," Harry said, shaking his head.
"The Floo network is down too," Draco called out from the fireplace.
"I can't apparate either," Ted added, as they all shared an uncomfortable look, realizing what it meant.
"It's worse than that," Tom said gravely, stepping back inside from the Muggle entrance. "I don't know how they managed it, but the exit to the Muggle world isn't working. There's some kind of barrier blocking the way."
"Death Eaters," an old man sitting at one of the tables said, a chill going down the spines of the other patrons who lived through the last war. "This is what they always did before an attack."
"Werewolves," Harry said, looking out of the window as they heard a chilling howl followed by even more screams.
"I'm with you, Harry," Draco said firmly, moving to stand beside Harry as they stood in front of the door.
Harry nodded before turning to the rest of the bar patrons. "Keep the doors to the alley barricaded. Don't open them for anyone, no matter what they tell you, and be careful around the barrier. If you tamper with it, it could attract the attention of the werewolves."
Draco and Harry stayed low to the ground as they stepped into the alley, listening to the panicked screams, watching people run in every direction, trying to get away.
"Be careful," Harry whispered. "Anyone out there could be a werewolf."
Draco nodded, taking in all the chaos around them.
"Come on," Harry said, leading Draco to the side alley of the Leaky Cauldron. "We need a better view," he said, scaling up the side of the building.
When they reached the top they gazed out along the length of the alley, able to see from the Cauldron all the way to Flourish and Blotts, spotting at least three groups of werewolves terrorizing people in the streets and attacking businesses.
"You were right, Draco," Harry said as they ran across the rooftop, jumping over to Potage's Cauldron Shop. "They're here to cause nothing but chaos and destruction."
"What's the plan?" Draco asked, glad that Harry had taught him how to infuse his muscles with his magic, doubting he would have been able to keep up with him otherwise.
"We need to stay in the shadows for as long as possible," Harry explained. "If they know we're here, that we're a threat to them, they're going to group together. That's how they nearly turned me, overwhelming me with sheer numbers."
"Their hides are magically resistant too, but they have the same weak points as us. Aim for their eyes, noses, any soft tissue, and keep moving. I'm not sure how, but they can sense our presence, or at least Greyback can."
"Do you think he's here?" Draco asked as they stood on the ledge of a building looking around.
"He's here somewhere," Harry replied. "Probably somewhere he can gloat and grandstand from."
He pulled out his wand, aiming at a lone werewolf chasing after a little girl, his eyes grim as he listened to her terrified screams, and the werewolf's chilling growls as it hunted her for sport.
Holding his wand steady he created a ball of fire on the tip of his wand, concentrating his magic as he condensed the flame smaller and smaller, until it was the size of a galleon before releasing it, watching as it streaked through the air, getting faster and faster as it approached its target.
The werewolf looked up at the last second, sensing the magic a moment before it struck, but he wasn't fast enough to dodge it entirely, letting out a pain-filled roar as the spell pierced his shoulder, and came out the other side.
Draco's own incendio struck the werewolf a couple of seconds later, hitting it in the leg, and sending it tumbling to the ground.
The werewolf was up a moment later, a burn mark visible on his leg, and a hole in his shoulder as he looked around wildly, searching furiously for his attacker.
Harry fired a second shot, but this time the werewolf was ready for them, spotting them on top of the building, and dodged out of the way as he growled up at them.
"Stay up here," Harry said, stepping to the ledge.
"Harry—" Draco said, unwilling to let Harry face the werewolf alone.
"I need you to cover me," Harry explained before jumping off the ledge to the ground below. "In case there's more of them."
The werewolf roared again as it charged at Harry, claws outstretched, its feet cracking the cobblestone road as it lunged forward.
Harry changed his wand to its dagger form as he ran at the werewolf, knowing he had to be careful. The werewolf was big, almost as big as Greyback himself, and its large, heavily muscled arms gave it the advantage in reach as well.
At the last second he kicked his legs out in front of him as he jumped, coating his feet in iron skin as he slammed them into the kneecap of the werewolf like a missile, his momentum carrying him forward as the werewolf slammed face first onto the ground.
The werewolf thrashed on the ground, clutching its ruined knee, the same leg the other boy had hit earlier with the incendio.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dark haired boy jump into the air, his eyes widening as he saw his foot coming down on his head. He rolled to his side, escaping the attack at the last moment, watching in shock as the boy's foot pulverized the stone where his head had been a moment earlier.
"Potter," he growled, getting back on his feet, favoring his leg as he recognized the boy, the one that had killed his brethren at the Ministry.
His eyes widened, sensed the magic before it struck him, but with his leg hobbled he was too slow to move out of the way in time as three more incendio's struck his back, not enough to topple him over a second time, but enough to singe his fur, and burn his skin.
"Where is he?" Harry demanded, holding out his dagger in front of him. "Where's Greyback?!"
The werewolf let out a dark laugh. "Find him yourself, if you can, Potter."
Harry glared at the werewolf, slamming another kick into the werewolf's ruined knee as he ducked under its clumsy punch, hammering his fist into the werewolf's injured shoulder next as he sent it back to the ground.
He didn't move as another trio of incendio's flew past him, missing him by a few scant inches and striking the werewolf in the chest.
"You're getting good at that," Harry complimented, keeping his eyes glued to the werewolf as Draco moved to stand beside him, his wand outstretched.
"You're going to tell us everything you know," Draco said, his voice dangerously quiet. "How many of you are here?"
The werewolf let out a pained groan, its face shifting between human and werewolf for a moment before it let out another humorless laugh. "Go to hell," he spat.
"Is this really what you want?" Harry demanded, gesturing to the chaos and destruction around him. "Is this is your great werewolf society?"
"You think you're so much better than us, don't you?" The werewolf spat angrily. "But you're not. You've been doing this same thing to us for centuries, hunting us down like animals!"
"You're the one hunting defenseless children," Draco pointed out, the disgust in his tone clearly evident. "We're not, that's what makes us better than you."
The werewolf let out a hollow laugh, bitter, and full of pain as he glared at them. "I had a family once, a child, a wife. Your kind took them from me. That's when I promised myself I would make your kind feel every ounce of pain they did in their last moments."
Draco stared back at the werewolf too stunned to speak. He wanted to deny it, to call him a liar, but couldn't. He saw the truth in his eyes, the pain. There was no faking that.
"So revenge?" Harry asked. "That's what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?"
"That's all there is," the werewolf growled back.
Harry nodded, beginning to understand how Greyback's dogma had convinced so many werewolves to join his side.
"It won't fix you, none of this will," Harry replied, gesturing to all the destruction around them. "It can't be what your family wanted for you."
The werewolf's eyes flickered for a moment as if considering Harry's words, but was gone an instant later. "What would you know about it!?" he deflected angrily. "Living the life my kind can only dream of, everything handed to you on a silver platter while we struggle just to survive!"
Harry raised his dagger, knowing there was no convincing him in the time he had, his mind flashing back to the howler he received earlier in the morning, how this werewolf had destroyed countless families already, and if left alive would continue to do so.
"Do your worst! I'm not afraid of death," the werewolf spat.
The werewolf's injuries were healing before his eyes, and he knew he had to act, or risk fighting the werewolf a second time.
"I hope you get to see your family on the other side," he said, plunging his dagger into the werewolf's eye, killing it instantly.
Harry sighed heavily, cleaning off his dagger. Killing in battle was one thing, but execution was another. It was different when they were defenseless, when he knew what lead them down this path.
"Is it over?" a small voice asked as a young girl poked her head out from behind a bench.
Harry turned around, staring at the girl, wondering if it was a trap. Was she under Polyjuice? A werewolf waiting for the right time to pounce?
"She's not," Merlin said into his mind. "Extend your senses. You should be able to feel the difference."
'Right,' Harry thought back. It would be the first time he'd used the skill since Hogwarts.
"Don't overdo it," Merlin advised. "You can't afford to waste too much magic on a deep scan. The werewolf curse is easy to spot — the darkness, the malignance, she doesn't have it."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he confirmed Merlin's scan, not sensing anything dangerous from the girl.
"No," Draco shook his head, walking up to the girl and pulling her to her feet. "Where are your parents?" He asked, noting the girl couldn't have been older than seven.
The girl's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she whispered in a broken voice. "I don't know."
Harry walked up to her, placing his hand on her shoulder, noting that she was shaking like a leaf as she stared past him at the werewolf. "What happened?" he asked softly.
"…We went for ice cream," she said in a lost, broken voice. "Then they came… I got separated from my parents. I…" she hiccuped. "I.. Don't know… I ran."
"It's okay, you're safe with us," Harry said softly. "We'll help you find him."
The girl nodded gratefully.
"What's your name?" Draco asked.
"Emily… Emily Watts," she replied.
"Alright, Emily," Harry said. "You said you were getting ice cream. Was that at Fortescue's?"
Emily nodded.
"We'll start there, then," Harry replied.
"Hold on a second," Draco said, casting a quick muffling charm.
"Harry, are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked, looking at Emily. "We don't know what we're going to find… after what she's been through... We don't know if her parents are even alive. She shouldn't have to see something like that."
"We don't have much of a choice," Harry pointed out. "We can't leave her here to check it out beforehand."
Draco sighed heavily, conceding the point, still haunted by the memory of finding the remains of their own classmates.
"Come on," Harry said, extending his hand to the girl as he canceled Draco's muffling charm.
"You're him, aren't you?" Emily said, looking up at Harry, recognizing him, a touch of awe in her voice as they made their way back to where she'd run from. "Harry Potter."
Harry nodded, amping up his senses to detect the magical presences around them. "Stay close, but if I tell you to run, you need to find someplace to hide."
Emily nodded, tightening her grip on Harry's hand, feeling that much safer in the two boys presence.
"I read about you in the newspaper," she said, unable to keep quiet, a nervous habit she'd had for as long as she could remember. "I knew the Prophet was lying about you… I knew you weren't like that. My sister…" she trailed off, hiding her face as she heard a loud crash.
"It's okay," Harry replied soothingly, rubbing the frightened girl's back, and encouraging her to continue, hoping that by distracting her he could keep her calm. "What were you going to say about your sister?"
Emily hiccuped, rubbing away her tears before continuing. "I was so jealous of her. She's going to Hogwarts in September, and I have to wait two more years," she said, feeling a profound sense of guilt as she thought about her sister now.
"I'm sorry," she confessed. "I don't know why I'm telling you all of this."
Harry squeezed her hand, understanding what she was going through. "What house do you want to join when you get to Hogwarts?" He asked, encouraging her to continue, knowing that talking was the only thing keeping her from breaking down entirely.
Draco continued to scan the road ahead, hearing screams all around them, some close by, and some further ahead.
"I wanted to join—" Emily said, her words dying on her lips as Harry came to an abrupt stop.
"Four ahead," Harry said, sensing the presence of the werewolves as he pulled Emily with him into an alley.
"Emily," he said to the terrified girl. "I need you to hold on to my neck," he said, bending down, and turning his back to her. "Draco and I are going to climb up onto the roof. You'll be safe there. Hold on tight."
Emily nodded, gripping Harry tightly, shutting her eyes as Harry jumped into the air, and grabbed onto the ledge of the building, climbing up.
When they reached the top, she opened her eyes, looking down at the street below, spotting Fortescue's ice cream shop, her eyes widening in fear as she saw the werewolves, the same ones that attacked her and her family.
One of them, the most vicious of the four werewolves was dressed in a long coat, reaching their ankles.
She could see bodies littered around them. Some of them weren't moving, and cowering between them she saw almost a dozen people.
They were too far away for her to hear what they were saying, but it looked like the werewolves were laughing, taunting the people cowering at their feet.
She scanned their faces, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw her parents, but then she saw the small body at their feet, her breath hitching in her throat as she recognized her.
"Annie," she said, her voice breaking.
Harry and Draco followed Emily's gaze, both of their faces grim as they put two and two together.
"Emily, I need you to stay up here," Harry said. "No matter what happens. No matter what you see. You stay up here, and you don't make a sound. When it's over, I'll come back to get you."
"I'm scared," Emily confessed, wrapping her arms around herself. "I wish I were brave, like you," she said, looking between Harry and Draco.
"You are brave," Draco replied.
Emily shook her head silently. She had wanted to become a Gryffindor like her mother, but after today she didn't think she could.
Draco squeezing Emily's shoulder. "Look," he said, showing her the slight tremor in his hand. "It's okay to be scared. I am too, but that doesn't mean you aren't brave. Bravery is choosing not to let your fear control your actions."
Emily nodded.
"That jacket," Harry said, looking at it closely. "It's dragon hide. It's the same kind Greyback wore. Spell resistance, and physical protection all rolled into one."
"Expensive too," Draco agreed. "Not just anyone can make those. They must be important to Greyback for him to spend those kind of galleons on them."
"And strong," Harry added. "Greyback wouldn't bother if he thought otherwise."
"Stronger than the last one?" Draco asked.
Harry nodded, knowing that saving the people wouldn't be an easy task, not when they could use their prisoners as human shields like Greyback had done at the Ministry.
"I wish Ron were with us," Draco confessed. He was the tactician of the group and would have known exactly how to distract the werewolves and give them the opening they needed to get the prisoners out safely.
"Hermione too," Harry added, knowing how far his friends had come since Hogwarts, and how her deep knowledge of obscure spells would come in handy at a moment like this.
"Any ideas?" Draco asked, watching as the werewolves grew tired of taunting their victims, marching them forward.
"We're going to have to hit them hard and fast," Harry replied. "It's our only shot. I can take down one of them before the others notice, but after that it's going to be a slog. We'll have to keep them apart and as far away from their prisoners as we can manage."
Harry tapped his wand on Draco's shoulder, using the version of the disillusionment charm Merlin taught him before doing the same to himself as they jumped to the next building.
"Remember, as soon as you attack, the spell is going to fail, and with their senses, I don't know if it's even going to last that long," Harry advised. "Keep your distance and make your spells count. We can't afford to miss."
"I'll go on your signal, Harry," Draco said as they stood on the ledge, looking down at the werewolves below.
"Get up!" A werewolf shouted, viciously kicking an injured wizard struggling to get back to his feet, sending him a foot in the air.
The man groaned painfully as he cradled his ribs, landing heavily on the ground before getting up on his knees as he stared at his daughter.
She was bleeding badly, but he could still see her chest slowly rising and falling, giving him some hope that she could survive, if he could her some help soon.
He shared a helpless look with his wife. Neither of them wanted the werewolves to know she was alive, but they couldn't leave her in the middle of the street like this, and with their other daughter missing, both of them felt broken.
He wanted to fight, to defend his family, and he'd tried, but he was no match for the werewolves. They'd actually laughed when he attacked them, dodging his spells with contemptuous ease as they waited for him to exhaust his magic.
It had been years since he'd been in so much as a fight, most of them happening during his time at Hogwarts, but those childhood squabbles were almost a decade ago, and nothing compared to what they were facing now.
"I said get up!" The werewolf roared, moving to kick him again, only to stop, swaying from side to side, his eyes unfocused before he fell forward, twitching as he landed on the ground.
The man's eyes widened as a boy suddenly appeared, saving him from a kick that would have caved in his chest.
The boy stood perched on the now dead werewolf's back as a pool of blood formed around its head.
The mocking laughter of the three remaining werewolves stopped instantly, replaced by pain-filled growls as rounded stones pelted them in the eyes, and snouts sending them scrambling for cover.
The man shot to his feet, not sure what was happening, but still had the presence of mind to grab his daughter, dragging her with him out of the line of fire, and into the open door of the ice cream shop the werewolves dragged them out of earlier.
He peeked his head out of the door, keeping his head low. "Leslie!" he hissed, trying to get his wife's attention, but she just stood their frozen in fear, just like all the others.
There was another boy now with blonde hair, conjuring stones faster than he'd ever seen, pelting the werewolves with them, and keeping them pinned down.
The first boy, the one with the dark hair, rushed to his wife, grabbing her by the shoulder, and shaking her, pointing in his direction.
He saw the recognition in her eyes as she finally snapped out of her panic, rushing toward him. He quickly pulled her behind him, peering out from behind the door frame.
An inhuman roar filled the air as the werewolves realized what the boys were doing.
His eyes widened as a werewolf grabbed one of the bodies littering the floor, not sure if they were alive or dead, then threw them at the blonde boy.
He carefully shut the door, hoping the werewolves wouldn't notice him, looking at his wife, then at their daughter Annie, both of them feeling a profound sense of grief. She was bitten, and with how much blood she lost, neither of them was sure she would even survive it.
He turned his attention back to the boys, watching as they fought side by side, doing what ten fully grown witches and wizards had tried and failed to do.
Draco ducked, wincing as a woman sailed over his head, hitting the ground with a loud thud, and rolled like a rag doll until she slammed into the side of a building.
Conjuring the stones was keeping the werewolves back, but it was costly magically, and not something he could keep up for much longer. He needed to split them up, but wasn't sure how.
He looked over his shoulder at Harry, getting the attention of the werewolves former prisoners, and directed them to cover.
Harry looked down at the people on the ground. He didn't have the time to check on their condition, couldn't leave Draco to hold back the werewolves on his own. He had to keep fighting until it was over.
He watched as the the werewolves inched towards Draco, covering their faces with their arms as they focused all their fury on him, already over the initial shock of their surprise attack.
He raised his wand, pulling a chunk of stone from the ground at an angle, slamming it into the the back of the werewolf with the jacket, sending it flying forward. He ran forward at the same time, jumping into the air as he raised his knee, coating it in iron skin.
The werewolf's eyes widened, knowing what was coming but unable to react fast enough to defend himself.
Harry slammed his knee into the soft cartilage of the werewolf's nose, a loud crunch filling the air as its snout exploded in a shower of blood as the werewolf's forward momentum stopped in an instant.
The werewolf staggered back, dropping to one knee, before falling to the ground, but it was only a few seconds before it staggered back to its feet, growling as it charged forward again despite its ruined nose.
Harry scrambled back, unprepared for the werewolf's quick recovery, forced to use his perception to counter the werewolf's speed.
Time felt as if it slowed down around him as he ducked and weaved around the werewolf's jabs and punches, but even then, its attacks came far closer than he would have liked.
He got the distinct impression this werewolf had been a boxer; his footwork and combinations a dead giveaway, nothing like the brawling style Greyback favored, making him a unique threat in his own right, and with the added protection of the dragon skin jacket, it made it far more difficult to find an opening.
He focused his full attention on the werewolf in front of him, trusting Draco to handle himself as he searched for patterns, tells, anything he could use to gain an advantage.
After nearly getting clipped with a right hook, he finally saw it, the way the werewolf extended its right foot just before throwing a left cross.
When he saw it again, he stepped forward, ready to hit the werewolf with an uppercut, only to realize a second too late he'd fallen into the werewolf's trap. The slight upturn of the werewolf's lips the only giveaway as it kicked out its leg in a vicious spartan kick.
Harry's eyes widened as the werewolf's heel struck his forehead, a blow that would have killed him outright if not for Merlin activating his iron skin at the last moment, but even that wasn't enough to protect him from the full brunt of the attack, sending him flying backwards, and landing heavily on the cobblestone road.
Seeing stars as he struggled to his feet, his eyes blurry as he swayed from side to side, his head throbbing where he'd been hit.
"Move!" Merlin shouted into his mind, cutting through his mental haze as he struggled to get his bearings, falling back on instincts as he shakily threw himself to the side a moment before the werewolf's heel struck his head again.
"The werewolf is moving faster, much faster, than before," Merlin warned. "You need to create distance, slow down the werewolf somehow, at least until you can get your barrings."
Harry nodded wearily, his vision still swimming as he fell to the ground, narrowly avoiding another hit, rolling across the ground to avoid the werewolf's stomping feet.
He raised his wand, using an accio on the wall of a shop, pulling himself away before the werewolf crushed his ribcage with another stomp, and finally giving him some breathing room.
He shakily got back to his feet as the werewolf charged after him, sending burst of magic to his legs as he jumped high into the air, using another accio to pull himself to the ledge of a building, his vision finally clearing as he landed.
The werewolf growled, chasing after him, digging its clawed hands into the side of the building as it scaled up the wall, letting out a roar that rattled the windows as it jumped up the last few feet, assured of its victory.
With only a fraction of a second to act, Harry turned his wand into its dagger form, slamming it into the chest of the werewolf just as it landed.
The werewolf's roar died on its lips as it looked down at its chest, shocked, a pool of blood forming right where its heart was, then it fell backwards, landing on the street below with a loud crash.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he stood on the rooftop. After fighting Greyback, he had assumed all werewolves would fight in the same way, an assumption that nearly cost him his life.
He looked down at Draco, fighting the last werewolf, and holding his own against it, despite the werewolf's much larger size and reach.
Draco glared at the werewolf, forced to use shield spells to protect himself against its wild punches and slashes.
He was still nowhere near as proficient with iron skin as he wanted to be, and one look at the werewolf's clawed hands told him that even a single hit would be fatal.
As the werewolf lunged at him again, he pushed his shield forward, slamming it into the werewolf's head, staggering it, and finally giving him the breathing room he needed to go on the offensive.
"Accio!" he shouted, ripping a chunk of the cobblestone road out of the ground, catching the werewolf behind the knees, and sending it crashing to the ground.
Whipping his arm around he held the spell, the chunk of stone circling him as he directed it back to the werewolf, picking up momentum as he brought it up, then back down in a wicked arc, aiming for the werewolf's head, only for the werewolf to throw himself to the side at last second, the stone shattering on the ground instead of delivering the killing blow he intended.
Draco cursed, looking around anxiously as the werewolf rose to his feet, stalking towards him, his eyes settling on the werewolf Harry killed at the start of the battle as a desperate plan formed in his mind.
"Accio!" he shouted again, picking up the body and hurling at the werewolf, soon followed by anything else that wasn't nailed down. Barrels, shop signs, chunks of broken buildings — it didn't matter so long as he buried the werewolf under a mountain of debris.
He returned his attention to the chunks of stone he'd attacked the werewolf with first, transfiguring them back together, fusing them the way he'd seen Harry do until it was a giant lump of stone.
Then he took it a step further, removing any air pockets from the stone, condensing it even further before lengthening it out to form a crude spear with a razor sharp serrated edge.
He looked up as the werewolf let out a roar, shaking off the debris he buried him under, their eyes meeting as he propelled the spear forward, seeing the dawning recognition in the werewolf's eyes as it realized what was about to happen.
The werewolf dove out of the way, or at least tried to, but this time Draco was ready for it, expecting it. He redirected the spear, pushing it hard to the right, and back in the werewolf's path, watching grimly as it skewered the werewolf through the chest.
The werewolf fell to the ground, coughing up blood as it took its last breaths.
Draco dropped to the ground, breathing hard, the fight taking more out of him than he'd realized.
He heard movement behind him, but didn't bother to raise his wand, recognizing the sound of Harry's footsteps as he ran towards him.
"Alright, Draco?" Harry asked, checking his friend for injuries.
Draco nodded tiredly, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"You did good, Draco," Harry praised.
"I never fought anything like that," Draco confessed. "It was vicious, like fighting a wild animal, but with the intelligence of a man. I think it wanted to turn me. It got close a couple of times too."
"Please! You have to help us!" a man said, rushing out of the Fortescue's, carrying his daughter in his arms, his wife beside him. "Our daughter, she ran off. We don't know what happened to her."
"Emily," Harry replied. "We found her, don't worry. She's safe."
The man breathed a sigh of relief, his body sagging. "Where is she?"
"Hang on, I'll get her," Harry said, climbing up the side of the building, then jumping to the next rooftop, and returning with Emily in his arms.
"Daddy! Mommy!" Emily shouted, rushing to hug her parents.
Draco got to his feet shakily, looking at all the bodies strewn around them, not sure who was still alive, and who was dead.
"Two dead, the rest are injured," Harry said after a quick scan, answering Draco's unspoken question.
"What do we do?" Draco asked. "We can't just leave them here. What if more werewolves show up?"
Harry nodded, thinking the same thing. "We'll have to take them with us," he finally decided.
"That isn't going to be easy," Draco replied. "They're injured. Broken bones, concussions, some of them have been maimed too."
Harry nodded in agreement, hearing the distant sound of screams all around them, knowing that leaving them behind was practically a death sentence.
***
hi! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Any predictions on what Greyback is up to or where he is? We are now at the second major battle of this arc, and Rita has a new story to get to the bottom of.
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