At the foot of the mountain.
Lucien and the other two sat around a bonfire.
"The egg-laying is complete. Now we just wait for them to hatch."
"Stanley, this period is when Thunderbirds are at their weakest. The female is not in good condition, and the male will guard the nest to the death. Those poachers will definitely seize this opportunity, so please strengthen the security measures with the reserve manager."
Hearing Newt's words, Stanley nodded solemnly.
"I understand. We deal with this every year."
"Speaking of which, we were able to resolve the Thunderbird's birthing issue so quickly this time entirely thanks to Lucien."
Stanley looked at Lucien, his admiration undisguised.
"Your ability to communicate with magical creatures is something I've never seen before. It was fortunate that you were there to calm and communicate with that female Thunderbird, allowing everything to proceed so smoothly."
Lucien gently waved his wand, causing the bonfire to burn a little brighter.
"Thank you for your kind words. I'm just glad I could be of help."
Stanley went on,
"And your potion skills are excellent as well. You saved us a great deal of trouble. By the way, is your Potions professor at Hogwarts still Severus Snape?"
"Yes, it's Professor Snape."
"No wonder. I've met him a few times before. He's the youngest Potions Master, very serious and extremely knowledgeable. A famous teacher produces outstanding students, so I imagine his demands on his students are quite high, aren't they?"
Lucien recalled the usual scenes in Potions class, Snape's sharp tongue, and how he could scold young wizards until they cried.
"Yeah.. Mr Stanley, Professor Snape is very strict in his teaching and demands absolute adherence to proper procedures."
Well, the demands were indeed high, but he taught genuine knowledge.
That made him a good teacher.
Lucien couldn't help wondering how Professor Stanley usually taught his classes, and how he corrected students' mistakes in practical work.
Ilvermorny sounded quite interesting. If only there were a chance to visit someday.
Rustle—!!
Leaves shifted with a soft sound.
At once, a small black-and-white bird darted swiftly out of the bushes.
Its sturdy legs moved rapidly as it rushed straight toward the base of a large rock.
"Woo woo~"
The little bird pecked fiercely at the base of the rock a few times but found nothing, letting out two frustrated cries.
Only then did it notice the people nearby.
The bird turned its gaze toward the bonfire, and when its eyes settled on Lucien, it tilted its small head.
"Woo?"
The small bird actually hopped over on its own, skipping toward Lucien's side and chirping softly a few more times.
"Didn't catch dinner today?"
Understanding the bird's meaning, Lucien couldn't help but smile. He took a small bag of dried insects from his pocket, food he had prepared for magical creatures such as Diricawls.
He pinched out a little and offered it to the bird. It did not hesitate at all and immediately began eating.
"Heh heh, Lucien, your affinity with animals is really something."
Stanley smiled as he watched the scene, clearly amused.
"That's a North American roadrunner, a bird known for its speed. It feeds on spiders, frogs, and small rodents. It doesn't usually approach humans so easily… That little fellow was probably hunting just now. Unfortunately, it seems it still had to rely on you to fill its stomach."
Lucien listened with great interest to Stanley's explanation. These bits of encyclopaedic knowledge were fascinating in their own right.
As he fed the roadrunner, Lucien's gaze shifted toward the large rock nearby. In his Eye of Peering Magic, a dark vortex slowly began to swirl.
Spider?
…
Behind the large rock.
A black widow spider with an unusual red lip-shaped marking on its abdomen crawled out from a narrow crevice.
Rubbing its forelegs together, the spider's form suddenly twisted and began to expand.
In silence, it transformed into a beautiful woman with black hair and red lips.
Shirley patted her ample chest and silently cursed that damned stupid bird.
She had been lurking perfectly when a bird suddenly darted out and nearly pecked her to death.
Heh. If she really ended up being eaten by a bird, she would probably become the Animagus with the most ridiculous death in history.
Shirley quickly ran through the team's plan in her mind.
This operation had been prepared for more than half a year, and the entire poaching team had been mobilised. A wizard gang of nearly forty people was no small force.
Times were no longer what they had been decades ago. Several wizarding wars had greatly depleted the wizarding population, and gathering thirty or forty adult wizards was already extremely formidable.
What's more, poachers were people who lived by the blade. If a real fight broke out, they would be far more vicious than ordinary wizards.
And this time, a large-scale battle might not even occur, because the most crucial part of the plan was Shirley herself.
As an unregistered illegal Animagus whose animal form was a small, inconspicuous spider, Shirley was practically a natural-born assassin.
Many of the team's successful operations had relied on her infiltrating close to the target, then striking from the shadows and killing in a single blow.
Newt Scamander was indeed powerful and troublesome. If he released that case full of magical creatures, their team might not gain any advantage.
But no matter how many or how strong those magical creatures are, they would still have to be released first. Heh~
Shirley was extremely confident. Her casting speed was incredibly fast. As long as she struck first, she could kill Newt.
Even if she were truly unlucky, she could at least severely injure Newt. Shirley could stop him from opening the case, and her companions would move in at the same time.
As long as this job was completed, Shirley could retire. She would go to the beaches of Hawaii, embrace Alistair, and drink wine.
That kind of life…
Shaking the pleasant fantasy from her mind, Shirley refocused on reality.
Those thoughts had lasted only a second or two.
Drawing her wand, Shirley took a deep breath.
She recalled Newt's position while simultaneously channelling her magic, pushing herself into peak condition.
With a twist of her waist, Shirley stepped out from behind the large rock and thrust her wand forward.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The familiar green flash shot from the tip of her wand, aimed straight at Newt Scamander's back.
As long as the Killing Curse struck Newt, their plan would be half complete.
However, Shirley had only just finished the incantation, her red lips not yet closing.
The green spell, which had travelled less than half a metre, was violently intercepted by a red beam.
A fierce magical collision erupted in front of Shirley, sparks of magic crackling wildly.
"Wh—"
Shirley instinctively increased her magical output, trying to contend with the sudden opposing spell.
But before she could even finish the word, the red spell surged forward like a giant python, devouring her Killing Curse and slamming straight into her chest.
An irresistible force struck, tearing the wand from Shirley's hand.
She had barely been disarmed when, in the very next instant, a blinding blue surge of electricity followed.
ZZt!
"Arrrrrrrrr....gggghhhh..." Excruciating pain and numbness flooded her entire body at once.
Shirley's consciousness immediately plunged into darkness.
At the same time, dozens of Apparition cracks rang out all around them.
A shocked roar echoed through the air. "Shirley!"
________
(^///^) Please support this fic and also read 12 chapters ahead at Patreon.com/DrakDevil1