"Kekekek… just look at them, running for their mommies…"
Under the moonlight, above the tall trees lining the forest's edge, two silhouettes hovered on magical brooms, watching the chaotic campsite spread out beneath them.
One remained perfectly still, a silent shadow against the sky. The other swayed and rocked as though their broom were a horse out of control, yet instead of panic, shrill, maniacal laughter spilled from their mouth and rang freely through the night.
"How long must we wait?" The seemingly crazy individual was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, second only in madness to Voldemort himself.
A breathless, feverish laugh escaped her, sharp and trembling with anticipation. She twisted toward the figure beside her, eyes glittering with frantic delight. "Do you have any idea what this feels like? To watch them scatter and scream and not be allowed to touch. Ahhhh... It is agony. All those lovely little toys, and I am forced to keep my hands to myself."
The other silhouette, when the moonlight fell across her face beneath the hood, revealed a luminous, fair complexion, soft rosy lips, and perfectly arched brows. Strands of black hair framed her delicate features, highlighting high cheekbones and a serene elegance that made her beauty striking, composed, and subtly commanding, a woman seemingly in her early thirties.
The corner of her eyebrow twitched as she fought to suppress the urge to hex the crazed woman-child beside her. "A little longer…" she murmured, her voice barely audible, reluctant, yet still answering.
Below her, she saw the campsite had now descended into utter madness. People ran blindly in every direction, their terrified screams tangled with jeers, shrill laughter, and the occasional staggering shout of those chasing them, while flames licked the tents and sparks danced across the night sky.
The first objective, according to that twisted madman, was to give the people a taste of absolute fear, she thought inwardly as time seemed to crawl. Up next was to raise his flag gloriously, she scoffed, and finally to capture a certain "chess piece" convenient for the final plan.
What she was waiting for was that individual, yet the chess piece seemed to have vanished the moment the ruckus began.
Anyways, watching the bodies collide and stumble over one another, panic rippling through the crowd, she thought this should count as the first objective complete, right?
And just then—
"Aaah…"
A sharp cry suddenly cut through the chaos, loud enough to rise above the screams of the panicked crowd. She tilted her head, tracing the sound, and saw it wasn't coming from the terrified masses, but from someone on their own side.
Her eyes narrowed, settling on a single figure in her line of sight. Finally, she thought, the next objective had finally arrived.
"Kekekek…"
Beside her, Bellatrix giggled, the sound bubbling from her throat with delighted malice as she cast a brief sideways look, recognizing the subtle change in her demeanor. For all her madness, she was still a great magi, her awareness just as sharp as anyone in her rank.
"You can start," Rosier intoned, her gaze locking with hers, while she braced herself, knuckles white on the broom's handle. "Do nothing unnecessary… your target is Alester, and nothing else."
Bellatrix's tongue flicked across her lips and her grin widened as the thrill of what was about to unfold coursed through her veins. She offered no retort, too consumed by exhilaration to bother with words, her mind already dancing ahead to the chaos she would unleash.
"Kekekeke…"
Cackling like a lunatic, she surged into the sky, wand raised high, eyes burning with anticipation while every nerve in her body trembled. It was the moment she had been waiting for, the moment to let her lord's mark rise in all its terrifying glory for the entire world to see.
With a decisive clockwise flick, she unleashed her magic, shouting the spell aloud, "MORSMORDRE!" A thick bolt of green tore into the night sky, accompanied by a deafening crack of thunder. It had been so long, well over a decade since she had last cast it, and yet it launched with effortless ferocity, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Lowering her wand, her lips curled into a fanatic grin as she waited. A heartbeat later, the spell detonated high above, scattering even the clouds overhead in a violent bloom of eerie green light.
Everyone below, the panicked crowd, the attacking Death Eaters, and the pursuing Aurors all turned their heads upward, drawn by the deafening crack and the ominous green spreading across the sky.
"What is that?"
"Some kind of signal?"
"Are reinforcements coming?"
Speculation rippled through the chaotic crowd as the noise collapsed into a tense, collective silence. Fearful gazes followed the spreading green above, watching as the mist roiled and folded in on itself, slowly shaping into a skull of sickly light, its bony jaws parting as if to announce its presence.
"That… that does not look like a signal for reinforcements," one onlooker muttered.
Gasps spread like a wave, and in stark contrast, those who had been waiting for this moment answered with shrill, fanatical laughter that rang across the field.
From the skull's gaping jaws, they watched as a massive serpent emerge, coiling slowly as if waking from slumber. Some, especially those from Britain who remembered the dark days a decade ago, felt recognition strike them immediately.
"That's… isn't that the symbol of the Dark Lord?" A terrified woman, past middle age, lifted her trembling hand toward the sky, clutching her equally frightened husband tightly.
The sea of people below was bathed in the eerie green light, their faces pale with dread, while high above, the instigator cackled even more maniacally at the sight. Yes, yes. This was exactly what her most beloved lord had wanted. A declaration, a most glorious announcement.
However, she didn't get to savor the moment, for in the next instant her magical sense flared at an imminent threat. Instinctively, she jerked her broom to the side just as a thick bolt of red streaked past, vanishing into the night sky.
"Kekekekek!" Her laughter rang fanatically through the brief silence, sharp and wild, as she steadied herself effortlessly and unleashed a counter hex toward a second surge of terrifying magic hurtling in her direction.
Booooom!
Below, every eye was drawn to the spectacle above. Two thick bolts of magic collided in the air, sparks and arcs of power crackling between them. Two figures on magical brooms circled slowly, high above the chaos, their surges of magic locked in a tense, frozen stalemate.
Boom! Boom!
Strands of lightning arced from the clashing spells, tearing through the air, sending dust and debris flying, and obliterating anything in their path.
Screams erupted again as the dark wizards resumed their hunt. Above and below, the campsite had fallen into complete chaos, magic tearing through the sky while terrified figures scattered across the ground.
"Kekekeke!" Bellatrix's face lit up in the wake of her own magic, her hair whipping wildly as she laughed and poured more power into her spell. On the other side, Alastor Moody gripped his wand tightly, his one eye gleaming with lethal focus at the madwoman trying to overwhelm him.
"What's the matter, cripple? Cat got your tongue, hmm? Kekekekeke… and here I was thinking that mudblood-licking bitch would stick around to join the fun…"
"Damn it!" Moody muttered under his breath. He didn't respond to her taunt, only an idiot would, and focused entirely on the duel. This crazy woman, mad as she was, was no easy opponent.
And indeed, if only Minerva had been here, he thought, but she had departed right after the game, long before the chaos even began, leaving him to face this treacherous situation alone.
Reinforcements had, of course, been requested, but with it being the middle of the night and the Patronuses still en route to their recipients, he feared it might be too late by the time they arrived. If it were only the lunatics below, he was certain he could have handled the situation swiftly, but facing a mage of equal rank on the other side made that impossible.
Booom! Booom! Booom! Booom! Booom! Booom!
Spell after spell, unleashed from their immense reserves of magic, collided in a frenzied storm, explosive bursts meeting concussive detonations. Each strike cut through the darkness, trailing searing green, fiery red, and shimmering white, while shockwaves hurled sparks and debris toward the panicked crowd below.
The two great magi twisted and spiraled on their brooms, locked in a relentless, deadly dance. Such was the clash of magi at their rank that, if left unrestrained, it could obliterate everything nearby in its aftermath.
Moody, unfortunately, found himself in a precarious position, unable to unleash his full power even if he wanted to. The woman was far from an easy opponent, and to make matters worse, she kept lowering their altitude, dragging the clash of their magic closer to the ground and forcing him to divide his attention between their deadly duel and the panicked crowd below.
"You know you won't get away with this. Terrorizing an international event will put the ICW straight on your trail."
Moody tried to reason with her, then realized he was wasting his breath. After all, what good was trying talking to a madwoman?
"Kekeke…"
Sure enough, her cackles grew even wilder after his warning, as if none of it mattered. "I'd worry about yourself first if I were you, you stupid dog," she shouted back, intensifying her barrage of spells hurling toward him.
The hell does that mean? he wondered, and almost immediately the answer came as a surge of warning jolted through his magical sense.
Instinctively, he twisted his broom as a powerful burst of magic hurtled past him, but the maneuver left him exposed, and Bellatrix showed no mercy, unleashing a blasting hex squarely at him.
"Damn! Protego maxima!"
Unfortunately, it was just a hair's breadth too late. The spell tore through his semi-formed shield, slamming into him and send him, along with his broom, hurtling across the sky.
Excruciating pain seared through his chest leaving him nearly breathless, but fortunately the semi-formed magical barrier had atleast managed to absorb most of the impact.
That said, Alastor Moody was no stranger to pain, nor to life-and-death situations like this. Mid-flight, blasted through the air, he twisted with precision, clenching his chest against the searing ache, and shot upward again, his magical senses ablaze with warning that danger was far from over.
Booom! Booom!
More spells were hurled at him, thick bolts of red and blue streaking toward him from two different directions, leaving him with no choice but to evade. He twisted left and right, dodging each by mere hair's breadth, and surged higher into the sky. At the very least, he needed to draw the clash away from the crowded campsite, and there was nowhere else to go but upward.
The sky soon erupted in a blaze of color, lightning-like jolts streaking through the air like a furious storm, until at last the crackling ceased. Moody turned, sensing the onslaught had stopped, only to find the culprits hovering motionless, their eyes fixed on him.
He froze as well, knowing he could not let them retreat. At least until reinforcements arrived, he had the confidence to keep them occupied, even if it meant drawing them through the sky in pursuit. Besides, the Aurors with him, now trying to stop the chaos below, were no nobodies either, and with some luck, even before reinforcements arrived, they might even manage to bring the situation under control.
"Kekekeke. Let me guess…" Bellatrix cackled mockingly at him. "...planning to make us chase you until sunrise?"
Damn. Isn't this woman supposed to be a brainless, stupid maniac? Moody thought inwardly, clutching the handle of his broom.
Ignoring her briefly, he then glanced at the other figure, only to be taken aback. It was indeed the same woman he had glimpsed during the prison break. Back then, he hadn't seen her face clearly, but now there was no mistaking her identity.
"Didn't think you, of all people, would change masters," he said coldly, his brow furrowing. "You know this won't end well for you… or are you ready to say goodbye to that pardon you received?"
"What does it matter to you, Alester Moody?"
The three of them hovered in a tense triangular formation, each figure locked in place under the vibrant, eerie glow of the green, ominous mark above.
"You're right," Moody said, feigning a casual shrug. Despite the pain still burning through his chest, he forced himself to appear calm, drawing out the conversation. Every second he bought mattered.
"Why do this?" he continued, his voice steady as his gaze briefly flicked upward before settling back on the two of them. "Terrorizing helpless people… no matter how flashy that mark is, it doesn't change the fact that Riddle is dead—"
"Avada Kedavra!"
The instant that name left his lips, Bellatrix snapped. In a fit of absolute rage, she lunged forward and slashed her wand through the air, unleashing the deadliest spell in her arsenal.
But something as instinctive as dodging was etched into his very bones by now, a lifetime hunting dark wizards having sharpened every reflex to perfection. He slipped sideways just in time, the sickly green curse tearing through the space where his head had been a heartbeat ago.
"How dare you, you stupid dog, utter that cursed name!" she shrieked, already flicking her wand again.
"Enough!" Rosier shouted, seeing her crazy partner lose control again and quickly stepped in. "Did you forget? We need him alive, you idiot! Your master needs him alive."
Merlin have mercy. Working with a tantrum-throwing child would be easier, she thought bitterly.
Meanwhile, Moody's eyebrows lifted as a cold, ominous feeling coursed through his spine the moment those words reached him. That's right. Why had they suddenly stopped pressing him so relentlessly, and more importantly, why hadn't that blasted curse appeared amid the relentless stream of hexes earlier?
"What twisted conspiracy are you lunatics plotting now?" he growled, brows knitting together as his grip tightened around his wand, every muscle coiled and ready.
Beside Rosier, Bellatrix trembled, barely restraining her fury, her fingers twitching as if aching to strike again. Rosier, however, turned back to him calmly and slowly curled her lips into a thin, knowing smile.
"I suppose there is no point in hiding it any longer," she said coolly. "Tell you what. If you surrender honestly, I swear the chaos below ends immediately. No more innocent people will be harmed." Her eyes gleamed faintly as she tilted her head. "How does that sound?"
"Hahahahaha!"
Moody let out a loud, booming laugh that rang through the night before he forced himself to rein it in, fixing them with a hard, unyielding stare. For a brief moment, just a brief moment, his gaze flicked past them toward the distance, then snapped back to the two witches before him.
"You think I'm some righteous fool like Albus Dumbledore?" he snarled. "No matter what you do, you freaks won't get away with this. This half-baked conspiracy of yours will never succeed. Reinforcements will arrive sooner or later, and I'd rather drag myself to death than let the likes of you take me with you."
"Why the fuck are we still talking!"
"You cannot win against the two of us, Alastor," Rosier replied coolly, ignoring both the fool beside her and Moody's outburst.
"Heh… I know, you stupid cunt!" Moody growled back, then his laughter faded, replaced by a wide, dangerous grin. "But…"
—————————
Author's Note:
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