Warning in the Darkness
The next day, Harry woke up feeling a bit drowsy, his hair completely messy, though to be fair, his hair was never easy to tame. Sometimes he even wondered if it was because they were wizards that both his hair and Hermione's were always a complete disaster.
That would make sense, if it were not for the fact that Draco always had his hair perfectly arranged, though Harry often thought that maybe Draco actually woke up hours earlier just to style it properly. Draco had said that was obviously nonsense, though he had never exactly said no to it either.
As for Daphne, it was normal to see her with all kinds of strange hairstyles. Every time she changed outfits, her hairstyle matched it, and knowing Aunt Selene, she had surely drilled into her the importance of always having a nice, well kept, and properly styled hair.
At that point, Harry realized he was thinking nonsense, probably because he was still half asleep after just waking up. He fixed his clothes and left his room. As soon as he did, he could hear noise coming from the living area.
When he entered, he saw Daphne lifting Tommy into the air in his baby form, while he laughed happily, babbling as if asking to go higher. On the other side, Billy was sitting on a cushion on the floor while Luna and Astoria showed him the book Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, his eyes showing a small but genuine interest as he looked at each creature.
"Are they still transformed?" Harry asked when he saw his brothers, a slight amusement in his voice. "Where is my mom?" he asked the girls.
"Mom caught her and dragged her away to fix the tents because she can't get herself ready," Daphne said while holding Tommy above her head like a little airplane. "Literally, one of the rooms, and the biggest one, is just her makeup and dressing room," she explained.
Harry found it a bit funny. Only someone like Selene could drag his mother around like that, or more precisely, all of his aunts. After all, they were the only ones who had truly earned Wanda's trust enough to treat her that way.
…
Draco stepped out of his tent in a bad mood, since last night Dobby had suddenly appeared to protect him from something and had jumped on top of him, covering him with his body. Then the tent had suddenly shrunk, making Dobby overreact once again, and as a result, Draco had not been able to sleep at all. Every strange noise made Dobby panic and cause a huge commotion inside the tent, and he had not even allowed Draco to go out and check what was happening. So now, he was in a truly foul mood.
"Stupid Dobby," Draco muttered as he brushed his hair back from his forehead with his hand. As soon as he stepped outside the tent, he noticed a faint smell of something burnt in the air, though everything still looked fairly normal around him.
He could see that in several areas, people were leaving in a hurry, and more aurors could be spotted patrolling everywhere.
For a brief moment, he saw Aunt Wanda being dragged away by Aunt Selene and Aunt Susan, but it did not bother him much, even though he could feel that something about the atmosphere was off.
Some people were leaving their tents with strange expressions, whispering among themselves about what had happened last night and why their tents had suddenly lost all magic.
Draco caught words like terrorist attack and fire, but he could not easily involve himself in other people's conversations.
So he walked toward Harry's tent while continuing to listen to the murmurs around him. His mother had left early that morning, so he was not well informed about what was going on and had no one to ask. On top of that, it seemed that Uncle Edward had rushed off at full speed with Sirius a short while ago.
As Draco walked, his gaze quickly landed on someone he truly detested. Lucius Carrow. This time, he was alone, when he was usually accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle.
"Oh, we always seem to run into each other so easily. I don't know if it's just bad luck for me to keep seeing your filthy traitor face," Carrow said as he looked at Draco, wearing a slightly cheerful smile, different from his usual one full of pure arrogance. This one looked victorious.
"Don't worry, I'm sure we share the same feeling," Draco replied coldly before continuing toward Harry's tent.
"It's funny," Carrow said just as Draco was about to pass him.
Draco looked at him in confusion, as if watching a clown trying to perform some ridiculous act.
"So much effort, and yet it's not that easy," Carrow continued, that victorious smile still plastered on his face.
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, tired, just wanting him to say whatever nonsense he had and leave.
"Maybe we're not as ancient as the Blacks or the Greengrasses, but we also have powerful roots. Haven't you heard the saying? Corner a snake, and you'll end up bitten," Carrow said before walking away, that smile never leaving his face.
Draco raised an eyebrow as he watched his back, then turned around and continued on his way.
…
Wizards and witches were in a state of panic, trying to find a solution or an explanation for why they could not use magic. Meanwhile, dozens of aurors surrounded different tents, not letting anyone pass, which only caused more panic among the nearby sections, pushing many to dismantle their tents and leave on foot as quickly as possible.
Luckily, someone approached and began shouting that magic was starting to work again once you moved far enough away. That brought relief and joy to the witches and wizards who had started to believe they had turned into ordinary muggles. Soon, a rumor began to spread, suggesting that alchemical tools that suppressed magic had been activated to stop the terrorist attack from the previous night. Along with that, stories of what had happened during the early hours of the morning also began to circulate. The flames that had almost devoured everyone, while they slept without ever realizing how close they had come to being burned alive.
However, as people began to breathe in relief, there were areas of the camp where the silence was not calm, but something far heavier.
And that was because the aurors were dealing with something far more serious than panic.
Dozens of people had been found dead inside their tents. Many of them were Ministry employees, and not just any employees, but members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
That meant several of them were fellow aurors, investigators assigned to track down various individuals. Among them were also high ranking members of the Ministry.
"Oh no…" he muttered immediately, a faint sadness appearing on his face. "This really is a big problem. A very big one," Kingsley said as he crouched down to examine the body in front of him. It was a man he knew quite well, someone who had sent countless Death Eaters to prison in his best years. Now he was dead, his body marked by what looked like multiple extremely damaging spells carved into his flesh. "Demian," he exhaled as he recognized him. He had been his partner for a long time.
And he was not the only one.
Other bodies were scattered across different areas, making it clear that this had been a highly coordinated and precise operation. If the fire had been allowed to spread without being stopped, those corpses would have been completely concealed. In fact, two bodies had been found entirely burned, obvious victims of the same plot.
"Where are the supposed culprits?" Kingsley asked as he looked at a nearby auror.
"This way, sir," the auror replied before walking quickly toward another section.
There, what appeared to be around eight men lay scattered across the ground, all dead, bearing signs of spells even more lethal and twisted.
Kingsley approached one of them and removed the black mask covering his face. His expression immediately grew complicated. He did the same with another, and then another. Each face was familiar.
Until he reached the one who was clearly the leader of the attack.
"Walters Pring. Imprisoned for ten years for the murder of his wife and child. Released just a month ago," Kingsley said as he looked at his face. Then he gestured toward the others. "Richards. Calmore. Donovan." He spoke each name with gravity. "Two of them were arrested by Demian himself and sent to Azkaban by his hand."
"Did they come for revenge, sir?" the auror asked.
"Possibly," Kingsley replied seriously. "Even so, why are they also dead here?" He looked around, searching for clues. But magic had that problem. If a wizard was skilled enough, it was easy to erase any trace left behind.
Although aurors were considered the best, Kingsley knew from experience that many dark wizards were even stronger. When they submerged themselves in dark magic and allowed themselves to be corrupted, they gained power at the cost of their humanity, something an auror could never resort to.
That was why many dark wizards were extremely difficult to capture. And as he looked at the bodies before him, Kingsley could not help but wonder who had been strong enough to hunt all of them down without leaving a trace.
"No," a voice suddenly said, interrupting his thoughts.
Kingsley turned and saw Sirius approaching, his expression intense.
"Black, what are you doing here? This is a crime scene," Kingsley said immediately, trying to send him away.
"I'm just here to lend a hand," Sirius replied with an almost amused calm, waving his hand dismissively. "After all, I might share a few thoughts with these types," he added with a slightly mocking tone.
Kingsley was about to order him removed, but stopped himself. Sirius had spent years in Azkaban.
"Fine," he said at last. "But if you're here to cause trouble, I'll have you removed immediately."
Sirius answered with a simple smile.
He stepped closer to the bodies and examined them carefully. "You know Azkaban is the worst place anyone could ever want to return to, right?" he said without looking at Kingsley, focused on the wounds left by the curses, as if trying to identify each one.
"It's designed for that. To make them regret their—"
"What I mean," Sirius interrupted seriously, "is that once you leave that place, no one wants to go back. Not even a madman. Even someone who was absolute trash. Spending time there makes you afraid to cause any kind of trouble. Not even revenge usually crosses your mind, because it would mean risking going back."
Sirius looked down at the body again. "Even so, many of them still dream of that revenge. I did too, against the man who sent me there. Every time I hear his name," he said without looking back, poking the corpse lightly with a stick he had picked up from the ground, as if tracing the marks left behind.
Kingsley watched him in silence. He knew Black's story well. At this point, who didn't?
"Alright," Sirius said as he stood up and adjusted his jacket with a faint smile. "That's all the help I'll give you," he added before starting to walk away.
"Wait," Kingsley tried to stop him.
But Sirius kept walking, not bothering any further. He had already said enough. Now it was better to leave Kingsley alone to figure out what to do with those words.
Meanwhile, Sirius approached Edward, who was watching from a distance with his usual serious expression.
"So?" Edward asked.
"It's pretty obvious," Sirius replied. "Many of those curses are very familiar to me. If they used them, it's a message. A warning. Or a threat." He smiled faintly. "It seems, my dear companion, that we are at war."
Edward looked at Sirius, then at the bodies. A cold aura began to spread around him.