Aurelian blinked heavily, his mind still shrouded in the fog of pain, with his ears ringing from the explosion. The hoarse voice of an old man began to seep into his consciousness, bringing him back to reality.
"I must admit that what you just did was truly impressive, young man… an attack I've never seen before," said the voice, in a measured tone. "Although the consequences on your own body from channeling so much magic into a single point could be truly devastating."
Aurelian opened his eyes wide. At his side, kneeling in the churned-up earth of the immense crater, stood Archmage Solomon.
The elderly, blind mage watched him with eyes as white as pearls, scratching his long, silvery beard thoughtfully. Solomon smiled slightly and let out a soft chuckle. He raised his hand, and with a simple flick of his fingers, began to cast a spell.
Immediately, Aurelian's body was enveloped in a warm blue light. The healing magic penetrated his exhausted muscles, easing the sharp pain in his bones, closing the most superficial cuts, and filling him once again with an energy he thought he had completely exhausted.
Taking a deep breath, Aurelian braced himself on his left arm and stood up with some difficulty.
"I thank you, Lord Solomon," he said, feeling his legs regain their strength.
The elderly Archmage nodded calmly. With another slight movement of his wrinkled fingers, a roll of white bandages appeared out of thin air. The fabric unrolled and began to wrap around Aurelian's mangled right hand, completely covering the burned flesh and the scar, fitting snugly and bringing relief to the injured limb.
"You were very lucky, young Gaunt," the Archmage warned him, lowering his hand. "Extremely lucky not to lose that hand forever. Tampering with the fundamental laws of magic and forcing it in that way is like trying to hold onto a star—be more careful next time."
Aurelian nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. He held his bandaged hand carefully against his chest, feeling slight relief from the coolness of the enchantments that permeated the fabric, as he walked alongside the old man.
Solomon raised his wand and struck the ground. With a muffled boom, both wizards vanished from the destroyed and empty New York City.
They reappeared immediately in the middle of MACUSA's gigantic lobby.
The place was still in shambles, but the worst of the chaos had subsided. Throughout the building, the U.S. government's Aurors were finishing up subduing and arresting the last escaped prisoners who were still putting up a fight.
At the far end of the hall, near the destroyed elevators, Aurelian spotted Victor Van Droombeeld. The wizard was accompanied by Paul; both had bloodstained clothes and were engaged in a heated conversation with a deeply distressed and disheveled President Sam MacDuff.
Noticing the arrival of the two wizards, MacDuff broke away from the group and walked quickly toward them. The President flashed a relieved smile and approached the blind old man.
"Solomon, thank Merlin you're here!" Sam exclaimed, stopping in front of them. "I am immensely grateful for your intervention. I knew you would manage to drive Grindelwald and his twisted followers out of our city."
The blind Archmage burst out laughing and raised a hand to rest it gently on Aurelian's shoulder.
"You're mistaken, my good Sam. All the credit for driving Grindelwald out of New York today goes solely and exclusively to Lord Gaunt. He was the one who confronted him."
The President turned to look at Aurelian, his eyes widening in obvious surprise at the revelation. However, MacDuff knew full well that a wizard of Solomon's caliber and wisdom had nothing to gain by lying or making up stories, so he believed him without question.
Moved by gratitude and relief at not having lost his government in a single day, Sam stepped forward and firmly shook Aurelian's left hand.
"On behalf of MACUSA and the entire magical community of the United States…" the President began, waving his hand, "I thank you deeply for your services and your invaluable help in this time of unprecedented crisis, Lord Gaunt. First it was the desert, and now this… you are a true…"
Aurelian let out a groan, clenching his teeth and squinting his right eye, as the abrupt handshake reignited the pain in the muscles throughout his arm.
Sam noticed it instantly; his face paled, and he quickly let go of Aurelian's hand, taking a step back.
"Oh, please, I'm so sorry!" the President apologized nervously.
Aurelian snorted, not bothering to answer him, and once again pressed his bandaged right hand against his chest.
Solomon's eyes slowly swept across the destroyed lobby, "observing" the structural damage with his magical senses. The old man took a step forward and clapped his hands once. The sound echoed like thunder through the hall. A wave of magic spread through the walls and floor, rebuilding statues, columns, and stained-glass windows, until the hall looked almost exactly as it had before the unexpected attack.
Solomon stretched, cracking the bones in his back, and sighed.
"Three hundred years don't come easily, boys," the old man whispered. "I'm already far, far too old for this sort of thing."
He cleared his throat, straightened his robe, and declared in a loud voice.
"Well… my work here is done."
A young Auror nearby, who had just finished handcuffing an injured prisoner and had overheard the entire conversation, muttered under his breath.
"But you didn't even do anything…"
Solomon heard him perfectly. He turned toward the young man and let out a charming laugh.
"Oh, no! Of course not!" replied the old man, amused by the young man's attitude.
Before leaving, Solomon moved a little closer to Aurelian. His kind expression vanished for a second, replaced by a serious look.
"Be very careful from now on, young Lord," the Archmage whispered to him in a tone only Aurelian could hear. "Starting today, the other Archmages of the world will have their sights set on you. You are no longer just a prodigy to them. You are an anomaly to the delicate balance that many of them maintain."
Aurelian turned his head sharply to ask for more details about that warning, but Solomon Graves was no longer there. He had vanished without making the slightest sound, as if he had never been there at all.
Victor approached with quick steps, leaning on his cane, and patted him on his uninjured shoulder.
"Congratulations, boy!" Victor whispered with a shark-like grin. "Having defeated Grindelwald's right-hand man and maimed the Dark Lord himself… this will serve to further increase your overwhelming popularity. We'll make you a god among our people."
But Aurelian didn't pay much attention to him, nor to the Aurors passing by, congratulating him and staring at him in awe. He was mentally and physically exhausted. Every muscle, every bone, and every vein in his body ached from the magical overload. All he wanted at that moment was to cross the ocean, return to the safety of his home in England, and lie down between Hestia and Flora.
He looked toward the skylights of MACUSA one last time, noting that the restraining effect of the Mirage Illusion had completely worn off. Outside, the sun shone once more with a warm yellow glow over New York, and the sky regained its natural blue.
"What a long day," Aurelian thought, closing his eyes heavily, ready to leave North America behind and not return for quite some time.
Night had already fallen over Great Britain when Aurelian Gaunt finally passed through the protective barriers of his home.
He arrived at the mansion shrouded in shadows, walking stealthily through the hallways, trying to make as little noise as possible. He was exhausted, aching, and very nervous. He had arrived terribly late. The "meeting" in New York had dragged on for obvious reasons, and all he could hope for at that moment was to find Hestia and Flora already fast asleep.
He tiptoed to his bedroom and pushed the heavy door open with the utmost care so the hinges wouldn't creak.
However, as he stepped into the dim light of the bedroom, his hope vanished completely.
The two witches were not asleep. Hestia and Flora were sitting in the center of the immense bed, arms crossed and backs straight, staring at him with an angry expression that would have made a battalion of wizards retreat. Both were wearing light silk nightgowns that hugged their curves, revealing their bellies—now six months pregnant.
Aurelian swallowed hard, quickly hid his right hand behind his back, and forced a diplomatic smile.
"Hello, my loves," Aurelian greeted them with obvious nervousness, slowly approaching the foot of the bed. "How… how are you? Why are you still awake?"
Flora uncrossed her arms, narrowed her eyes, and glared at him.
"Why did it take you so long to get back from that ridiculous meeting?" Flora demanded.
"You see, there were... complications, a lot of complications," Aurelian tried to explain, mentally scrambling to come up with a believable lie. "Mr. Van Droombeeld and I had to discuss a few points, then there was a problem with the international shipment, and..."
"Enough, Aurelian," Hestia cut him off, her voice strangely calm. Hestia uncrossed her arms and raised a hand, pointing at him with her index finger. "Show us your right hand. Right now."
The Lord froze for a second. His initial instinct was to keep lying, but when he saw the intensity in his wives' eyes and realized they already sensed something was wrong, he let out a sigh.
He had neither the strength nor the mental energy to argue with them that night.
Aurelian stepped forward, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled his right hand from behind his back, showing them the bandages stained with a little dried blood.
Hestia and Flora's eyes widened at the sight of their husband's condition. The anger vanished from their faces, replaced by fear and anguish.
"Who was it against?" Hestia asked in a trembling whisper, moving closer to him across the sheets.
Aurelian looked away, unable to meet their gaze.
"One thing led to another in the city… and I ended up facing off against Gellert Grindelwald."
The words had barely left his lips when the twins reacted. They lunged at him, pounding his chest with their clenched fists.
"You fool!" Flora shouted at him, her voice breaking with fear. "You're a damn fool!"
"Stupid, selfish, stupid!" Hestia sobbed, hitting him repeatedly, venting the anguish they'd felt during those hours of waiting. "Why did you do that!?"
Aurelian didn't defend himself. He let them hit his chest.
Now that they were so close to their husband, pounding on the lapel of his coat, Hestia and Flora could see it. They saw the obvious exhaustion darkening Aurelian's eyes.
With extreme tenderness and trembling hands, the twins took their husband's bandaged right hand. As they felt the stiffness through the bandages and sensed the warmth of his completely burned fingers, they both stifled a heart-wrenching sob.
"Aurelian… please…" Flora pleaded, gently pushing him backward until his back touched the mattress.
Hestia settled down beside him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Don't ever do something like that again. We beg you… don't ever risk your life like that again."
Aurelian swallowed the lump of guilt that had formed in his throat.
"I'll try, my loves," he promised in a sincere whisper, closing his eyes.
Flora and Hestia buried their faces in Aurelian's chest, hugging him gently.
"You have to be more careful, my love…" Flora whispered, her voice breaking against his shirt. "For us… and for our babies."
At the mention of their children, Aurelian's entire body went rigid. The reality of the danger he had exposed himself to hit him with full force. If he died, he would leave his wives alone and his children orphaned.
Aurelian raised his uninjured left hand and gently caressed his wives' swollen bellies, feeling the faint pulse of life beneath the fabric of their dresses.
"I'll always be here for you," Aurelian whispered, kissing both of their hair. "I'll always be here for you and for our children. I swear it."
"You'd better, Aurelian Gaunt," Hestia murmured, a faint smile returning to her lips before she closed her eyes.
And so, enveloped in the silence of the night, exhaustion overcame them. The three of them fell into a deep sleep, clinging to one another in the darkness of their room.
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