Aside from the conflicts of the First Wizarding War, the global wizarding world had not witnessed such a large-scale collision of opposing wizard armies in nearly half a century.
In an instant, as the two torrents of magical warriors crashed together, the blues changed color and the earth itself shook beneath their feet.
The violent, chaotic turbulence of raw magic unleashed into the void world triggered terrifying natural phenomena that seemed to respond to the bloodshed below.
Fierce winds rose seemingly from nowhere howling with a sound like the screaming of damned souls. Storm clouds regathered across the sky at a speed visible even to the naked eye, boiling and churning as though stirred by some invisible hand.
Dazzling bolts of true lightning began to descend from the turbulent heavens, as if the God of Thunder himself had arrived in judgment, wielding his blazing whip to lash the already devastated earth below.
Each strike illuminated the battlefield in horrible clarity for a fraction of a second before plunging everything back into shadow.
The explosions of spells colliding mid-air or striking their targets, the groaning collapse of the few surviving structures still attempting to stand, and the excited roars of triumph mingled with anguished wails of the dying filled the entire world with a symphony of war.
Every second someone was injured by curse or falling debris. Every second someone died screaming or in sudden, shocked silence.
Severed limbs and worse littered the broken ruins. The pouring rain from the storm-wracked sky could not wash away the spreading pools of blood that stained the shattered stones.
ROAR!
Hagrid's war cry rose above even the thunder as he charged toward the few remaining giants still standing among the ruins.
The deaths of his own kind certainly made Hagrid grieve deep in his gentle heart. But what he couldn't bear to witness even more was watching his own kind slaughtering wizards.
Yet among the Ministry's forces, desperately fighting for their lives in the ruins, there weren't many wizards truly capable of single-handedly subduing a full-blooded giant in combat.
But just as the difference in power between these mountain giants and the Titan giant skeleton that had temporarily turned the tide was vast and unbridgeable, so too was the power gap between the half-giant Hagrid and these pureblooded giants enormous.
Hagrid's clumsy, barely-functional magic couldn't penetrate a giant's naturally magic-resistant skin at all. What worked far better against such opponents was pure, brutal muscular strength—and that, at least, Hagrid possessed in abundance.
With a roar that shook his chest, Hagrid slammed his entire body weight into a giant's massive embrace. The tremendous impact of half-giant meeting giant sent the creature's enormous body sliding back more than ten feet across the ground.
"Ugh—!"
But immediately afterward, before Hagrid could press his momentary advantage, the giant steadied itself. It planted its feet firmly and clamped both of its huge hands around Hagrid's thick throat with crushing force, roaring in fury and pain as it lifted him off the ground as easily as a child might lift a doll.
An intense, overwhelming suffocating sensation crashed over Hagrid's consciousness. His vision immediately began to narrow and darken at the edges. His kind black eyes rolled back in their sockets, exposing the bloodshot whites, and his legs kicked frantically in the air but couldn't find ground or break the iron grip around his throat.
Just as Hagrid was about to meet his end, strangled by one of his own distant kin, Moody who had just finished stunning Nott Senior with a vicious curse spotted Hagrid's desperate predicament from across the chaotic battlefield.
Moving with surprising speed despite his artificial leg and the treacherous footing, Moody quickly leaped over a wide ravine that had opened in the street and flicked his wand.
A sickly green flash erupted from his wand tip and streaked through the rain-filled air!
This time, Moody had learned from his previous lesson. He didn't trust a single Killing Curse to do the job. He swung his wand in rapid series, and three separate Killing Curses pierced through the gloomy curtain of falling rain, striking the giant that was strangling Hagrid's throat.
THUD!
The giant's eyes went glassy and empty. Its massive hands released their grip. It fell heavily backward to the ground smashing a deep, body-shaped crater in the earth.
"Ugh—ugh—"
The very instant Hagrid hit the muddy ground and the crushing pressure left his throat; he collapsed forward onto his hands and knees and began to retch violently.
When he could finally speak, his voice emerged as a hoarse rasp barely recognizable as his own:
"Alastor... cough cough... thank you! You... you saved my life..."
"Be careful, Hagrid—and don't expect mercy!"
Moody roared over the noise of battle, already scanning for the next threat with his magical eye spinning in its socket like a deranged compass.
"They won't see you as one of their own—to them you're just another wizard! Now get up and get moving!"
His magical eye rotated and immediately spotted Kingsley in another direction, locked in a grappling match with another giant.
"Go help Kingsley, Hagrid! He needs you now!"
Alastor barked the order, then immediately dodged several wild, stray curses that came whistling past his head from the melee. Without waiting to see if Hagrid obeyed, he charged toward another battlefield where the fighting looked particularly desperate.
Sirius and the notorious Death Eater Antonin Dolohov had found each other in the chaos and clashed with the fury of old enemies.
Both men glared viciously at each other through the rain. They fought with recklessness from the high ground of a rubble pile down to the low, flooded ground of what had once been a shop, each of them seemed determined to end the other's life here and now.
Alastor's magical eye, still spinning and tracking multiple threats across the battlefield, trembled a few times before immediately locating Sirius among the countless swaying figures locked in duels.
WHOOSH!
Alastor pointed his wand forward with a sharp, stabbing motion.
More than a dozen steel rebar rods, salvaged from the ruins of collapsed buildings and twisted by his magic into shapes like mechanical serpents, burst violently from beneath a cracked stone slab. They shot through the air straight toward Antonin Dolohov's entire body, aiming to impale him from multiple angles.
The vicious, battle-hardened Death Eater quickly stepped back several paces, then whipped his wand in a complex gesture. Moody's enchanted rebar melted in a shower of orange sparks and molten metal that hissed when it hit the rain-soaked ground.
Seeing that he'd at least temporarily driven Dolohov back and given Sirius some breathing room, Moody reached out with his free hand and grabbed Sirius roughly by the shoulder, yanking him back before he could charge forward again.
"I'll deal with this bastard, Sirius—you need to go see what Malfoy's up to!"
Moody commanded pointing with his chin toward a direction through the smoke.
"Oh, but I was just about to finish him off!"
Sirius protested, somewhat disgruntled at being denied his chance for revenge. His gray eyes were still fixed on Dolohov with murderous intensity.
"Why don't you go chase Malfoy yourself, Alastor!"
"Because my legs aren't as nimble as yours, you fool!"
Moody roared, shoving Sirius away from the confrontation. His wand was already thrusting rapidly through the air in a blur, unleashing a barrage of colorful spell-light that forced Antonin Dolohov to scramble desperately on the defensive.
Sirius pursed his lips in resignation. He had no choice but to abandon his vendetta against Dolohov, at least for now. Trusting Moody, he turned and began running in the direction he had indicated.
When Sirius rushed up a stretch of relatively flat cobblestone road, an angry shout filled with grief and rage reached his ears through the storm.
"You cruel butcher—I'll settle accounts with you!"
Turning his head sharply, Sirius saw the normally good-natured Arthur stumbling through the thick mud, desperately making his way toward Dolohov with his wand raised.
After releasing a heavy sigh, Sirius reluctantly took off running again toward his assigned target.
"You can't kill me! You can't kill me, you pathetic blood traitors!"
After covering just a few more steps, Bellatrix Lestrange's shrill, triumphant laughter cut through the rain and noise, immediately drawing Sirius's attention.
Using the phrase "blood feud" to describe the deep, personal hatred that existed between Frank and Alice and Bellatrix was no exaggeration.
This usually mild-mannered, gentle couple known among their friends for their kindness and patient temperament now both wore expressions of absolute coldness on their ashen faces.
Their eyes burned with murderous intent unlike anything their friends had ever witnessed from them before. Every spell they cast, every curse they threw at Bellatrix was ruthless, designed to maim or kill without mercy or hesitation.
But it had to be admitted that individually neither Frank nor Alice was truly a match for Bellatrix in single combat.
Add to that the significant impact that more than a decade spent in mental confusion had inevitably had on their magical power and reflexes. Their skills had atrophied during those lost years in St. Mungo's, and even weeks of intensive practice couldn't fully restore what time and torture had stolen from them.
Even working together in perfect coordination, supporting each other's attacks and covering each other's weaknesses, the couple only barely held a slight edge over Bellatrix.
Sirius desperately wanted to abandon Moody's orders, to rush to the Longbottoms' aid and help them finish off his deranged cousin once and for all. But in the end, he restrained the powerful impulse.
Sirius wrenched his gaze away from the Longbottoms' fight and continued pursuing Lucius Malfoy through the ruins.
BOOM!
The last giant on the battlefield fell heavily to the ground under the combined efforts of Kingsley and Hagrid, bleeding out on the spot.
Hagrid stood over the corpse, absolutely covered in blood that the rain couldn't seem to wash away no matter how hard it fell.
He felt no joy in defeating his opponent. Instead, overwhelmed by the tragedy of it all—giant killing wizard, wizard killing giant, all this death and waste, he covered his face with his shovel-like hands and began to weep sorrowfully.
Kingsley breathing hard from the exertion of the fight was about to step forward and offer what comfort he could to Hagrid when a scream drew his attention away.
"Emmeline—! EMMELINE!"
A witch with graying hair was thrown violently by a massive explosion. Her body flew through the air before crashing heavily into the thick mud.
By the fleeting flash of terrifying lightning that momentarily turned night into day, Kingsley clearly saw the deathly pale face of the fallen witch. Her lifeless eyes were still open, staring blankly up at the storm-wracked sky.
She was gone.
The rage that surged through Kingsley's mind completely shattered his usual composure in an instant. His expression twisted into something terrible and frightening to see.
Without any concern for his own safety, he raised his wand high and charged toward the gleefully laughing Death Eater siblings Alecto Carrow and Amycus Carrow!
Diagon Alley—once the shining heart of wizarding commerce in Britain, a place of wonder and joy had been transformed into a blood-soaked meat grinder.
The battle had stalemated throughout the ruins, neither side was able to gain decisive advantage.
The army of dark wizards led by the escaped Death Eaters possessed impressive individual skills honed by years of violence, but they had no firm, unshakeable conviction in their loyalty to the Dark Lord. Many fought primarily from fear of what Voldemort would do if they fled or failed him.
Meanwhile, most of the personnel that Scrimgeour and Kingsley had brought as reinforcements were newcomers from the Hit Wizard recruitment expansion program. They had received only basic training—none could be considered truly elite combat wizards.
Both sides were suffering serious casualties with each passing minute.
Soaked to the bone, his long dark hair plastered to his skull by the driving rain, Sirius kept dodging and weaving through the chaos. Curses flew past him constantly
The black-robed wizard that his gray eyes had locked onto and been tracking finally stopped his sneaky movement. The man stood there oddly for a moment, head tilted to one side as if listening intently to something only he could hear.
Then the figure suddenly sprang into decisive action. He began waving his wand, using magic to clear away the piled rubble and debris.
Sirius set aside his confused thoughts for the moment. He gasped for breath a few times, his lungs were burning from the exertion of running and fighting, then prepared to charge forward.
"Where the hell do you think you're going, Black!"
But just then, before he could move, another black-robed wizard appeared seemingly from nowhere and blocked his path.
"Who are you!"
Sirius demanded sharply.
"There's no point in telling my name to someone who's about to die."
The Death Eater replied coldly.
And so, denied any choice in the matter, yet another fierce battle found Sirius.
Dazzling spell-light cutting through the thick curtain of rain blazed back and forth between them like multicolored shooting stars crossing the night sky.
"Ugh—!"
A particularly vicious cutting curse grazed past Sirius's left shoulder, missing a direct hit by less than an inch. Despite the near-miss, blood immediately began to gush from the deep wound it carved in his flesh.
Fighting through the sharp, piercing pain, Sirius demonstrated the combat reflexes that had kept him alive through the first war. Even as he jerked backward to avoid a follow-up curse, he managed to cast a spell of his own that struck his opponent's concealing mask.
The mask shattered into pieces and fell away.
"Heh hehe... Greengrass! Of course it would be you, you cowardly bastard!"
Seeing the revealed face of his attacker, Sirius gave a cold laugh. He wanted to say something cutting but the throbbing pain in his wounded shoulder rendered him temporarily speechless—he could only gasp for air and try to remain on his feet.
Being publicly unmasked in the middle of a Ministry operation meant exposure.
Greengrass's face twisted with fury and alarm. This was a disaster for him. Just as he was gathering his magic to take the life of this scoundrel Black—this disgrace who had abandoned and humiliated the ancient honor of pure-blood families, a troublesome interferer suddenly appeared at the worst possible moment.
"You're in very big trouble now, Mr. Greengrass!"
Dedalus Diggle, his distinctive purple top hat somehow still perched on his head despite the chaos, wiped the streaming rain from his round face with one sleeve and shrieked in his high-pitched voice.
Without stopping his walk, he tossed Sirius a small glass bottle that glinted in the lightning flashes.
"Deal with your injury first, Sirius!"
"Thanks, Dedalus! I owe you one!"
Sirius caught the glass bottle in mid-air with his good hand. He pulled out the cork stopper with his teeth, spat it aside, and poured the entire contents of healing potion over his wounded shoulder in one go.
A pleasant, cooling sensation immediately spread through the injured tissue, rapidly easing the sharp pain to more manageable. Sirius raised his wand to his shoulder and began muttering healing incantations. Before his eyes, the torn flesh began to slowly knit itself back together.
Elsewhere on the chaotic, rain-soaked battlefield, Lucius Malfoy continued his frantic search.
'A cup. A golden cup. Something like the notebook.
Who can stop?'
Malfoy knew that the Dark Lord was watching.
He moved carefully through the ruins, slowly waving his wand in sweeping patterns. He levitated one stone after another, searching with rising anxiety among the countless dim gold galleons that lay scattered everywhere, glinting mockingly in the lightning flashes. He hoped desperately—
"Don't move, Malfoy!"
Just as a cup with a finely crafted pure gold handle and an engraved badger emblem came into view among the rubble, a low, threatening voice sounded behind Malfoy's position, making him secretly breathe a sigh of relief!
————————————
For More Chapters; patreon.com/FicFrenzy