Harkwell snarled as he checked the strap on his wand holster, impressed that Scrimgeour actually had the foresight to turn off his connection to the Floo network, but the anti-apparation jinx was a step too far.
It left him no clear escape route if attacked. It was as if the fool had learned nothing from the war, something he would have to set his former protégé straight on the next time he saw him.
He grabbed the doorknob, yanking it open, only to blink, then look up in shock, his face going white.
Stumbling back, he grabbed the door, trying desperately to shove it closed, but couldn't.
"Hello Harkwell," Greyback said, stepping inside. A vicious grin split his face as he shoved the door open with a single, clawed hand, a heavy sack dangling from the other.
The faint metallic scent of blood drifted in with him. "I was just in the neighborhood," he added, closing the door behind him with a soft, final click.
"What the hell!?" Harkwell demanded, his voice unsteady as his pulse spiked. He fell back on his training, and quickly drew his wand, firing off an Incendio at the werewolf.
Greyback casually pivoted to the side, letting the spell fly past him and strike the door, burning away the wood veneer to reveal the solid iron hidden underneath.
Faster than Harkwell could blink, Greyback grabbed the former Auror's wand, snapping it in two.
"Now we can't have that," Greyback tsked, wagging his finger, the arrogant smirk never leaving his face. "Not after all the trouble I went through to arrange this little get-together."
"What do you want?" Harkwell ground out, his voice tight as he took a step back, eyes darting across the room, searching for another escape route.
He had a panic room hidden in the cellar for situations just this, but the only entrance was in the dining room. Outrunning Greyback to reach it would be nearly impossible, even on his best day.
He would need to distract the werewolf, bide his time, and wait for the right opportunity.
"I have to say," Greyback drawled, slowly dragging a clawed finger across the iron door. "I'm impressed. This place doesn't look like much from the outside, but the wards… the way you layered them… this shack has more in common with a fortress than the hovel it pretends to be."
Harkwell winced as Greyback's claw screeched across the iron, his stomach tightening as deep gouges appeared on the reinforced door.
It shouldn't have been possible. The iron was on par with what the goblins used for their vaults — a combination of alchemy and transfiguration that should have made it all but impervious to physical attacks.
"If you hadn't opened the door," Greyback continued with a low chuckle, "it would have taken days to get inside. Plenty of time for you to scurry away through one of your little escape tunnels like the rat you are."
Harkwell's eyes widened, but he kept his expression neutral. No one was supposed to know about those tunnels. So how did Greyback? How long had he been watching him, and waiting?
"You must really be afraid," Harkwell taunted, his jaw tight as he went on the offensive. "Killing me like this, like a coward in the night? What's the matter, Greyback? Afraid to face me in a fair fight?"
If he could play to Greyback's ego for a few more seconds, he might still have a chance. All he needed to do was get clear of the anti-apparition jinx, and he would be home free.
"Kill you?" Greyback chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Now, why would I do something like that?"
"Cut the shite," Harkwell growled. "You really expect me to believe you came here for a chat? Play a game of Exploding Snap or two? Is that it?"
Greyback threw his head back and let out a deep, rumbling laugh, genuinely amused by Harkwell's pathetic attempts to rile him.
"You're a coward, Greyback!" Harkwell continued, voice rising. "Killing me like this means nothing. My men will avenge me. They'll make sure you die in agony for this!"
"You've killed some of my wolves," Greyback said, walking to the bookshelf, dragging a claw slowly along the spines with a soft scrape, not surprised to find they were all spell books or dueling manuals. "I'll grant you that. But chaff needs to be separated from the wheat to make something useful."
"Tell yourself whatever it takes for you to sleep at night," Harkwell said, slowly inching toward the door. "But a word of advice — sleep with one eye open. As strong as you are, you're not perfect. All it takes is one mistake, one miscalculation, and it's all over for you."
"Hmm," Greyback said, slowly turning to face Harkwell, an unreadable expression on his face. "That's good advice. I'll keep it in mind."
A bead of sweat dripped down Harkwell's forehead. Things were not going the way he had intended — not even close. Not once had Greyback risen to the bait.
"Let's settle this man to man," Harkwell said, shoulders tensing. "One uel. You and me. Winner walks away, loser doesn't."
"Tempting," Greyback replied, his voice dripping with cold amusement. "But I have far more interesting things in mind for you."
"You'll end up dead," Harkwell sneered, fists clenched at his sides. "I may not be around to see it, but my men will. They'll go to ground when they don't hear from me. You won't see them again — not until you're staring up the end of a wand begging for your life."
"Somehow I doubt that," Greyback said, his smile widening to reveal razor-sharp teeth as he upended his sack, letting its contents spill onto the floor.
Harkwell looked down, eyes wide as the first severed head rolled across the floor, then another, and another. His men. The entire task force — all dead. He was the only one left.
Throwing caution to the wind, Harkwell bolted for the door, fingers scrambling for the spare wand hidden in his sleeve.
Pain exploded up his arm as Greyback shot across the room before he could even turned around, snapping both his wand and his forearm like a twig.
Greyback threw his head back, laughing uproariously. "You thought you were so clever, didn't you? Had it all figured out? You thought throwing around a few Killing Curses would stop me?" He asked, his voice taking on a chilling edge.
"Kill me then!" Harkwell shouted through gritted teeth, clutching his ruined arm. "Better that than listening to your drivel."
"Kill you?" Greyback asked, a cold smile on his face as three more werewolves burst through the door. "You haven't been listening at all, have you?"
"No, Harkwell," Greyback said as his wolves seized Harkwell by the arms, slamming him painfully to his knees.
Their claws dug deep into his shoulders, feeling like liquid fire as they tore through skin and muscle like razor blades.
"No," Harkwell shook his head in denial as the full horror of Greyback's words hit him. "NO!" he screamed, desperately struggling to free himself from the wolves' iron grip, blood pouring from his wounds.
"I'll kill you!" he snarled, true panic setting in. "Turning me will be the biggest mistake of your life. Arghhh!" he screamed, wrenching his arms.
"I'll let you in on a little secret," Greyback said, resting a heavy hand on Harkwell's shoulder. "That's what everyone says at first… but in the end, the wolf blood always wins. When you turn, you'll belong to me — just like the rest of 'em."
Harkwell screamed in agony as the werewolves descended on him. Sharp fangs tearing into his arms, shoulders, neck, and chest. Hot pain flaring with each bite, assuring the curse would take.
His struggles grew weaker as blood poured down his arms and chest, soaking into his clothes. The world tilted, his head growing light until everything finally faded to black.
***
Rufus stood in his office, staring out the window at the angry crowd gathered on the Ministry steps, a tired sigh slipping from his lips.
The latest issue of the Quibbler sat on his desk. He'd put off reading it as long as he could, but couldn't any longer. Reluctantly, he reached down, picking it up.
Werewolf Task Force Scandal
By Rita Skeeter & Xeno Lovegood
As many of you already know, the Wizengamot, along with the Ministry, launched a task force to hunt down Fenrir Greyback and his fellow werewolves after the brutal attack on the Ministry.
At first, their goals seemed laudable, and many witches and wizards supported it, but it has fallen far short of expectations.
After weeks of careful investigation, we have uncovered the task force is operating illegally — and that its own members have committed serious crimes, which we will lay out in detail below:
First and most damning: the very formation of the task force breaks wizarding law. According to our research, only the DMLE has the authority to form such a task force, and said task force must report directly to the head of the DMLE, in this case Amelia Bones.
Only witches and wizards operating under the DMLE may lawfully use force to detain, imprison, or otherwise bring criminals to justice.
Despite this, the task force has rounded up werewolves and thrown them into Azkaban without trial. They have denied these prisoners any visitors, including members of the press.
We still do not know their names, how many there are, how they contracted the curse, or whether they have any real connection to Greyback at all.
The only certainty is that they are citizens of wizarding Britain. As such, they are entitled to know what they are being charged with, a fair trial, and the right to face their accusers.
We have also gathered multiple reports of the task force harassing ordinary witches and wizards in the street — making threats and using intimidation.
Several business owners in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade have come forward, stating that members of the task force demanded protection money.
When the owners refused, the task force threatened them with fines for supposed violations of Ministry regulations.
We formally call upon the Ministry to investigate these claims immediately and hold every member of the task force accountable. Furthermore, we demand that the task force be placed under the direct command of the DMLE, in full compliance with our laws.
Rufus sighed heavily as he set the newspaper aside not bothering to read the rest as pressed his fingers to his temples. He was thankful that Skeeter had at least kept her word, but it didn't ease the weight pressing on him — the knowledge that everything was still hanging over his head, and the reporter was still digging.
He looked down at his trembling hands. The stress of his job and the impossible situation he found himself in. Everything was a disaster.
"Minister!" Amelia Bones shouted, slamming the door open and rushing inside, her boots echoing sharply on the polished stone floor.
"What?!" Rufus asked, looking up sharply. "What is it?"
"Another werewolf attack," Amelia replied, her voice tight.
"Where?" Rufus asked, quickly hiding his trembling hands behind his back, terrified he would transform in front of the head of the DMLE.
"Hogsmeade," Amelia said gravely. "We were lucky. Someone escaped through the Floo before Greyback shut it down."
Rufus breathed a sigh of relief. 'Hogsmeade,' he thought. 'Hogsmeade was good, far enough away that he wouldn't transform.'
"Minister?" Amelia asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Nothing, nothing," Rufus dismissed, recovering quickly. "What's the plan?"
"I don't have enough Aurors to deal with this," Amelia revealed. "I need everyone," she added, hating the idea of including the task force after everything she had learned about them, but seeing little other choice. She needed fighters, and at the moment she couldn't be picky.
"…I… I disbanded them," Rufus said, his mouth going dry as his palms began to sweat. He hadn't expected another attack so quickly. He wasn't ready… he thought he had at least a few weeks, if not longer.
"I don't care!" Amelia shot back. "Just get them to Hogsmeade! We'll deal with the laws later!" She rushed to the door. "But they are not to fire any more Killing Curses at civilians!"
"Wait!" Rufus demanded. "Where are you going?"
"To do my job," Amelia said. "We couldn't mobilize fast enough to make a difference last time. I will not let it happen again!"
"Amelia! Amelia!" Rufus shouted after her retreating form, but she had already turned the corner by the time he got to his door.
Rufus cursed m as he rushed to his fireplace throwing in a pinch of floo powder, hating himself for what he was about to do — ask Harkwell for help.
Caught between a rock and a hard place he had little choice in the matter. The press would crucify him, and after that he'd be lucky if all they did was throw out of office in disgrace.
"Harkwell!" he shouted, slamming his palm against the mantle in frustration when the floo refused to connect, his eyes going wide as the heavy timber beam cracked.
"Reparo," he mumbled, quickly repairing the damage before trying the Floo again — only to get the same result.
"Harkwell," he growled, shaking his head in disgust. His former mentor had disconnected his home from the Floo network and gone to ground to avoid before he could be held accountable for his actions.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" he muttered, looking back and forth between the fireplace and his window at the protest still going on.
The crowd knew nothing about the attack happening in Hogsmeade. That was the moment a desperate plan formed in his mind — a way for him to take control of the narrative.
He rushed out of his office, not even bothering to acknowledge Umbridge as he hurried past her, ignoring whatever she was screeching about.
He shoved open the doors to the Ministry, nearly knocking it off its hinges. The crowd quickly turning their attention to him, booing loudly and shouting over one another.
"Enough!" Rufus shouted, setting off a loud bang with his wand and stunning the crowd into silence.
"I've just been informed of a werewolf attack on Hogsmeade," Rufus said quickly before the crowd could recover. "The Floo network there is down. Anti-apparition jinxes and wards are preventing anyone from escaping. The situation is dire."
"I implore you all to go home," he continued. "Go to your families and loved ones. Assembling in large numbers like this will only make you more of a tempting target for Greyback."
"What are you going to do?" a witch asked, the crowd suddenly much more subdued.
"I've already dispatched the Aurors," Rufus replied. "And the werewolf task force," he added, knowing that even with Harkwell in the wind, he could probably still track down a few of their members.
With the pending charges against them, a promise of support from the Ministry would be a lifeline they couldn't ignore.
"I've authorized the use of killing curses," he said, knowing that would get the attention of the crowd, and with the task force soon to be involved, he would have to get ahead of that as well. "And before you say it, I know. The use of killing curses needs to be authorized by the Wizengamot, but they're not here. I am."
"What about Harry Potter?" a wizard asked this time.
"Efforts are being made to inform him of the situation," Rufus replied quickly, making a mental note to inform one of the Aurors assigned to the Ministry to do just that. "Now go home, all of you," he ordered, walking back into the Ministry.
When the doors closed behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief as the crowd dispersed. He didn't know where it all came from, but the effect his words had on the crowd was obvious. He still had his work cut out for him, but at the very least he bought himself some time.
"You!" he shouted, pointing at an Auror running down the hallway.
"Sir?" the Auror asked, nearly knocking the Minister over as he came to an abrupt stop.
"Get to the Burrow. That's where Harry Potter is staying. Tell him what's happening in Hogsmeade. Tell him…. Ask him," Scrimgeour said, his words faltering slightly. "There are people there who need his help."
***
"You're improving," Harry observed as Percy applied iron skin to both his arms and most of his chest.
"Thanks," Percy replied. "I've been practicing," he added, not mentioning that's all he'd been doing. Every waking moment until he'd exhausted his magic, only to wake up the next morning and do it all over again.
"Keep up the good work, Percy," Harry replied, patting him on the shoulder before moving on to George.
He took a moment to observe George as he layered iron skin on his hands and forearms. He wasn't as far along as Percy, or even Fred, but after a half dozen sessions with Daniela he could see the change in him.
George was still angry, but better at controlling it, no longer lashing out at his family, and much more aware of the damage he could do if he wasn't careful.
"Alright, George?" he asked.
George nodded tersely, looking up from his arms at Harry. "I don't know how you do this," he confessed. It took all his concentration and precious seconds he wouldn't have in a real fight just to coat his forearms, while Harry managed it mid-battle and covered his entire body when he needed to.
"It gets easier the more you do it," Ron said from beside him, with his arms, legs, and most of his chest covered in iron skin. "You're having trouble because the magical pathways along the rest of your body aren't as developed as the ones on your palms, but you'll get there," he encouraged.
George nodded, returning his attention to forearms, willing his magic to extend further up his arms.
"I got a letter from Hermione," Harry said.
"Yeah?" Ron asked. "How's she doing?"
"As well as can be expected," Harry replied. "She said she misses us and wants to come visit, but with the Knight Bus shut down, she isn't sure how to get here."
"I can ask Dad. Maybe he can pull a few strings and get a portkey issued for her."
"That's—" Harry stopped, his eyes narrowing as he whipped out his wand, followed instantly by Ron and his brothers as the outer perimeter of the wards triggered.
"What do you reckon?" Ron asked as a figure ran forward. "It looks like an Auror, but we can't be too careful."
"No, it's alright," Harry said, lowering his wand as he recognized the man. "I remember him. Gawain Robards. He was assigned to guard me when I was in St. Mungo's."
"Mr. Potter!" Gawain shouted, rushing over. "We need your help. There's another attack!"
"Where? When did it start?" Harry demanded, his eyes widening.
"A little over an hour ago," Gawain replied. "Hogsmeade."
"Hogsmeade?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. "What could they possibly want there?" he asked, wondering why Greyback would have any interest in attacking the small village.
"I don't know," Harry replied, shaking his head. He'd learned firsthand Greyback was not to be underestimated. His plans were never obvious — not until well after he got what he wanted.
"We need to go now!" Gawain interrupted. "Things are bad over there, really bad."
"No! Wait," Ron said, thinking furiously, making a mental list of the shops in Hogsmeade. "He had to be there for something. He's not going to show up just for the sake of causing chaos. We need to figure out what that is, or we'll be playing right into his hands."
"I have to go, Ron," Harry said urgently.
"I have a portkey," Gawain said. "It'll bring us to Honeydukes."
"He's telling the truth," Merlin added after examining the portkey.
"Not alone you're not," Ron said immediately. "I'm coming with you."
"We're coming with you too," Percy said, a hint of steel in his voice.
Harry nodded. From the looks in there eyes, there was no convincing any of them to sit this one out.
He felt a pull behind his navel when Gowain activated the portkey, transporting them with a soft pop to Honeydukes.
"Where are they?" Harry asked, looking around. He could see plenty of destruction, injured witches and wizards, but even straining his ears, he couldn't hear any fighting.
"…I don't know," Gowain said, looking around as well. "There were at least a dozen, probably more, spread out all over the village."
Harry expanded his senses as they walked through the village, still unable to detect even a hint of a werewolf, even though the state of the small town made it obvious there had been an attack.
'Where are they?' he thought, expanding his senses as far as she could. It didn't make any sense. How could they all be gone?
"I suspect your friend is correct," Merlin supplied. "Greyback didn't attack this place on a whim. He wanted something he could only find here."
'What?' Harry thought back. There was only a small fraction of shops in Hogsmeade when compared to places like Diagon Alley.
"I don't know," Merlin admitted.
Harry looked around uneasily. There was something he was missing, but he wasn't sure what. Greyback already had plenty of galleons, so it wasn't money he was after, but what else was there?
Food was his first thought. Feeding so many werewolves couldn't be easy, and the obvious answer of going to the Muggle world wouldn't have worked for Greyback.
He would need muggle coins for that. The only place he could exchange the galleons was Gringotts, and the last thing the goblins would do is help the man who stole from them.
"Hogwarts isn't too far from here," Ron offered, walking alongside Harry. "Maybe the attack here is a distraction."
"He wouldn't need one," Harry replied, shaking his head. "Other than the house-elves, there isn't anyone at the castle," but didn't dismiss the idea entirely. "What could he want at Hogwarts?"
"I don't know," Ron repliedas they walked past the Three Broomsticks, mentally counting off the shops in town, trying to make sense of the attack.
"Madame Bones!" Gawain shouted as they rounded the corner, stopping in front of the Hog's Head Inn, now being used as a makeshift treatment center.
"Robards," Amelia said tiredly, conjuring a sheet to cover a former Auror.
Percy looked on, stricken, taken back to the day he woke up at St. Mungo's — surrounded by injured children, some of them clinging to life, and not knowing what to do.
"Where are they?" Robards asked.
"Gone," Amelia replied simply. "Whatever they were after, they got it and left. The Floo network is still down, and the anti-Apparition jinx hasn't faded yet. We're stuck here until then."
"How long?" Harry asked, stepping forward.
"Less than half an hour," Amelia replied. "We were no match for them. They managed all this," she said, gesturing around them, "in less than an hour. That's all it took."
"Do you have any potions?" Harry asked.
Amelia shook her head. "Just the standard Auror emergency potion kits, and we've used them all up."
Harry nodded, staring at the gash on her side, and how pale she was. 'Shock,' he thought, realizing why Amelia hadn't taken charge like she normally would have. With how much blood she'd already lost, she was probably feeling lightheaded as well.
"Sit back down," Harry said, walking up to her. "Let me look at that wound."
"Fred, George," he said, looking over his shoulder. "There should be a potion shop somewhere around here. See what you can find."
"Pippin's Potions," Fred said quietly. "It's right across the street from Zonko's. We'll be back soon."
Amelia exhaled, grateful for Harry's timely arrival. As Aurors, they weren't allowed to break into shops, even in situations like this, but Harry nor his friends were held to that standard.
Harry bent down next to Amelia, pulling up the side of her blouse to get a better look at the wound.
"How does it look?" Amelia asked with a wince.
"You were lucky," Harry replied. "A few more inches to the right and they would have punctured your liver."
"I don't feel very lucky," Amelia said, letting out a sharp hiss when Harry pressed down on her wound, applying pressure to stem the bleeding.
"Sorry," Harry replied. "And it could have been a lot worse. If this were a bite—"
"I know, I know," Amelia interrupted, trying not to think about how close she'd come to that very fate.
Harry nodded. "I just know a basic healing spell. I don't think it will be enough for this."
"Actually," Merlin cut in. "There is something, and I think your magical pathways have finally expanded enough for you to pull it off."
Harry placed his hand over Amelia's wound, following Merlin's instructions. He directed his magic into her wound, slowly knitting together her torn blood vessels, then her muscle, and finally her skin.
He felt the immediate drain on his magic. The complexity of the magic he wove taxing his magical reserves, but he pressed forward regardless, seeing how much worse Amelia's injuries were than she let on.
"That's it," Merlin said. "She's out of danger. She can recover the rest of the way on her own."
Harry sat back, taking a deep breath as he wiped the sweat off his brow. The drain on his magic had been intense, but nowhere near as bad as he expected, nothing like when he'd done for Ben the previous summer.
"You've come a long way since then," Merlin supplied. "Your magical pathways have expanded, and your magic itself has grown, but don't make a habit of this. Despite all that, this is still an extremely taxing spell, one meant to be used when you're much older."
"Thank you," Amelia said gratefully, looking at her side in wonder — her gaping wound now just a deep bruise and a shallow cut.
"Here," Ron said, handing her a vial of blood-replenishing potion Fred and George recovered from the potion shop. "You're going to need this."
Amelia titled her head back, gulping down the potion, but when she tried to stand, a wave of dizziness hit her, forcing her to sit back down.
"Take it easy," Harry said. "That potion still needs some time to work."
"I don't have time," Amelia said, shaking her head stubbornly. "We still don't know how many people are injured, and I need to coordinate for when the anti-apparation jinx fades and the Floo Network comes back on."
"About that," Ron asked, furrowing his brows. "Why are you waiting for the Floo at all? We came here by portkey, can't you just evacuate people the same way?"
"If only," Amelia replied, "but creating portkeys is a complex bit of magic. That's why it's regulated so heavily by the Ministry. One little mistake in its creation, and you could end up appearing six feet underground, or inside a wall."
"Then just use the ones you have," Ron pointed out. "As long as they take people out of Hogsmeade it hardly matters. Wherever they end up, they can apparate from, or use the Floo Network to get to St. Mungo's."
Amelia groaned internally, fighting the urge to smack herself for not thinking of the idea herself. Even a handful of two-way portkeys would make a difference.
"Help me up," she said, holding her arm out to Ron. "I think I'll need your help to get everyone organized."
Percy shifted from one foot to the other anxiously. Everyone seemed to have a role to play, except for him. Ron and Madam Bones organizing the Aurors and collecting portkey, the twins handing out potion vials and seeing to the injured.
He'd prepared himself for battle, not the aftermath. He didn't know a single healing spell — didn't know how to conjure bandages; he was just... in the way.
"You alright, Percy?" Harry asked, getting back to his feet.
"What?" Percy asked, shaken from his thoughts. "Yeah… I guess… I don't know. I thought…"
"I know," Harry replied. "This is the worst part of these attacks: cleaning up the mess. I…" he trailed off, sensing a hint of magic from beneath the rubble of Scrivenshaft's Quill shop. It was faint, barely a flicker, but it was there.
"Come on," he said, grabbing Percy's arm, dragging him to the rubble. "There's someone inside. Help me move this," he said, grabbing one end of a post.
"Can't we just levitate it?" Percy asked, going to the other side of the post.
"No," Harry shook his head. "It's too unstable for that. We can't risk crushing whoever's underneath."
"Right," Percy grunted, straining to lift his end of the post as they moved it out of the way.
He followed Harry's lead, carefully pulling away the loose boards and support beams, pausing when he saw a bloody hand.
"It's all right," he said, giving the hand a squeeze. "Try not to move. We'll get you out of this," he promised, expecting to hear something from the man buried under the debris, but was only met with silence and cold, clammy skin beneath his fingertips.
Percy gasped, pulling his hand back as if it were on fire, realizing the truth. "…Harry," he said, watching the younger boy painstakingly shift the rubble out of the way. "It's… he's…" his throat catching, unable to find the words.
"I know," Harry replied evenly, returning his grim expression. "There's someone else in here."
Percy gave Harry a shaky nod, helping him to shift through the rest of the rubble, discovering not one, but two bodies. A witch and a wizard, and the way they were positioned, obviously a couple.
"Harry," Percy tried again. "They're both—" but stopped when Harry pushed the wizard aside, revealing a little boy that couldn't have been older than six.
The boy let out a groan, squinting as he looked up, his eyes widening as he recognized Harry before letting out a wheezing cough.
"It's alright," Harry said gently, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Just take it easy, nice slow breaths," he said, conjuring a glass of water for the child and holding it out for him to drink.
The boy took a small sip, then tried to sit up, only for Harry to put his hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't sit up yet. It might not feel that way, but you're hurt."
The boy nodded. "I knew you'd come," he said with the conviction only children had. "My mum and daa they didn't think you would. They said… they said you… Where are they?" he asked, a concerned look crossing his face as he tried to sit up again.
Percy didn't trust himself to speak as Harry once again stopped the boy from sitting up, seeing the truth.
"They're okay," Harry replied softly.
"Where are they?" the boy asked, his lips trembling.
"Don't worry about that right now," Harry replied. "Was there anyone else with you today? A brother or sister?"
The boy shook his head. "It's just us. You'll find them, right? They'll be okay?"
"I promise," Harry replied. "What's your name?" he asked, hoping to keep the boy distracted.
"James," the boy said, calming down again. "My friend Albert… He won't believe it. That I got to meet you. I wrote you a letter once," he said shyly. "Did you get it? You didn't reply. It's ok," he added quickly. "I know you're busy."
Harry nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he realized what happened. His mail ward, the one Ted arranged to stop the barrage of letters he'd received since the start of summer.
"I got it," he lied, not sure if the letter was sitting in a box in Ted's office, or if the owl had been sent away. "Sorry, I didn't get a chance to read it yet. Why don't you tell me about it now?"
"It's silly," James replied, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"If it's a letter you wrote me, I doubt that," Harry replied. "Come on," he encouraged. "We've got all the time in the world."
"…I asked if you would be my friend," James replied. "I don't have a lot of friends," he admitted shyly.
"That can't be true," Harry denied. "Your friend, Albert. What about him?"
"He's the only one," James said, his voice growing faint. "We live in the countryside," he explained. "Albert is the only neighbor we have for miles. His family can't afford to send him to Hogwarts. I thought… I thought," he said, faltering. "If we were friends, you would help him go to Hogwarts too… are you mad?" he asked, afraid to hear the answer.
Harry shook his head. "I'm not mad, James. Your friend Albert, he's exactly who I made the scholarship for."
"You will? It's not a joke? You promise?" James asked, a smile lighting up his face despite how pale he looked.
Harry nodded. "I promise, James. I'll make sure Albert gets to Hogwarts."
James let out another loud string of coughs, but smiled through it. "Thank you."
Percy's eyes stung as he watched Harry talk to James, his hand on the boy's chest glowing softly, keeping him calm and distracting him from his injuries as he worked his spell.
"…I don't feel so good, Harry," James confessed, his vision darkening around the edges.
"I know James, I know," Harry replied, struggling to keep his voice steady. "But I need you to hang on for me, okay? Be brave, just a little bit longer."
James nodded weakly, "okay Harry."
"Harry," Merlin said into Harry's mind. "There isn't anything you can do for him. His injuries are too severe, too numerous."
'NO' Harry thought back, stubbornly. 'I brought Ben back. I can do this. I know I can.'
"No, Harry, you can't," Merlin explained gently. "He's too young. His body can't handle the stress."
'He doesn't feel it,' Harry thought back. 'I blocked his pain receptors. I just have to repair his heart and lungs, then his legs, and he'll be okay.'
"Harry?" James called out, even more faintly this time, unknowingly interrupting his argument with Merlin. "…I'm scared. I want my mum and daa…"
"James," Harry said, clasping the boy's hand. "I need you to hold on. I need you to be brave… please," he said, his voice cracking.
James nodded weakly. "Okay," he said in a small voice.
Harry turned his full attention to James's injuries, trying to stem the blood loss. He healed the laceration to his liver, only for his blood pressure to drop again when a wound he hadn't detected in his spleen began to bleed — his organs failing one after the other no matter what he did.
"Harry," Merlin said, but Harry brushed him off, refusing to give up.
"Harry," James called out, his voice barely a whisper. ".. I'm cold."
Harry looked at James as his injuries continued to mount; his skin pale and cool to the touch. His lips tinted blue.
"…I want my mum and daa," James pleaded again.
"…They're waiting for you," Harry said, his shoulders slumping as he finally broke.
"Wh-where?" James whispered. "It hurts…"
"Don't worry," Harry said, giving his hand a firm squeeze. "You're going to get up in a few moments. It won't hurt anymore. I… I won't be able to see you. No one will, but there'll be a door… it's for you. You need to open it and step through."
".. but my mum…"
"She's there, on the other side," Harry replied, forcing a smile onto his face, hoping it would be enough to reassure James. "So is your daa. They're waiting for you."
"What's… like?" James asked, his eyes drooping.
Harry looked at James, having no answer of his own to give, but falling back on Aurelia's words, and his goodbye to Peeves, and his own hopes for what that place was.
"You'll be happy there," he replied, his voice cracking. "It's a place where you'll be with everyone you love, everyone you care about. A place of happiness, and light, and love."
He watched silently as James's chest rose and fell, slower each time as his eyes closed for the final time. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like he was at peace, that he had no more burdens to carry.
He let go of James's hand as he slowly rose to his feet, conjuring a sheet to cover the child's body, along with his mum and daa.
"…Harry," Percy whispered, tears spilling from his eyes, completely unprepared for the raw heartbreak he felt in that moment.
Harry looked back at Percy, his face twisting as he saw the devastation around them. The same devastation Greyback caused at the Ministry, then Diagon Alley, and now here in Hogsmeade.
The anguish and pain churned inside him, struggling to break free, hammering relentlessly against his mental barriers.
It started slowly, first a crack, his control slipping just enough for a snarl to escape his lips, then another as he tightened his fists. Another as he dug his nails into his palms hard enough to draw blood and his control over his emotions finally shattered.
"ARGGGHHHH!" Harry let out a furious scream as angry sparks of red energy encircled his fist, and before he realized what he'd done, he slammed it into the last remaining wall of the building, shattering it instantly and sending a shower of shower of pulverized stone and wood out onto the street.
He breathed hard, the anger fading as quickly as it came, and when he looked up he saw the panicked, shocked look on Percy's face, and he wasn't alone. Everyone within earshot had heard his scream, seen what he'd done.
"Harry! Harry!" Ron shouted, running over to him. "What? What's happened? What's going on?"
Harry didn't hear him, the blood rushing to his ears as he looked at the white sheet covering James and his family, only one thought in his mind.
He would find Greyback wherever he was hiding, and he would make him pay.
***
Hi thanks for reading :) I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. What did you think of Harkwell's fate? Harry is continuing deal with the fallout of his blocked emotions/memories. I'm building up to something with it, and hope you enjoy what I have planned.
Please take the time to review, and let me know how the story is going.
f you would like to support me and my writing, please consider visiting https://taplink.cc/jumpin for all the stories I'm currently working on and early access to chapters 18, 19, 20 and 21 of Legacy of Shadows along with some character portraits for Merlin, Morgan and Nimue, and an audio versions of the chapters.