It was already five in the morning, but there was still time before dawn. Darkness still reigned in this forest and the time was quite suitable for a surprise attack. I hope our enemies will not disappoint me.
Fel and I were sitting in the kitchen, at the table - the only remaining piece of furniture in the entire base - and drinking hot tea, leisurely talking about all sorts of abstract topics, getting used to each other and the slightly changed magic inside us. The barely perceptible feeling of kinship of our magical essences gave comfort and coziness, a certain ease of communication that arises between good old friends, lovers or relatives. Well, it is understandable, we had even more in common, so to speak, ha-ha.
We talked about many things and nothing. About magic, about music, about death, about sex ... about the future that awaits us. No, not the romantic snot where a couple discusses where they should move, whether to buy the same sweaters or where they should go on a date this weekend, not at all. We talked about the future of Wizarding Britain and our place in it. About what we can take by right of the strong, and what is better left alone and left to the mercy of other interested parties. Greed is the most dangerous vice in the world, in my opinion. I can somehow cope with my pride and laziness, and now I have somewhere to direct my lust. Although I admit that I have a certain weakness for beautiful women. I have Dumbledore's favorite second chances in my pockets especially for them. I hope one day I will not get a poisoned goblin dagger in the back. As for the other vices, they are not so strong in me. Only, we will not build a bright future as clumsily as ole Tommy tried to do in his time, and we will have to bet on the absolutely opposite camp. Although, I had certain plans for the numerous reservations of werewolves and veela, who lived practically in slavery. One in labor, others in sexual. Guess who got what. A new force, not the Phoenixes and not the Ministry. We are not on the same path. Some are too conservative and selective in their bright thoughts, and the second ... oh well, most of the country's problems are hidden in the current Ministry of Magic. All the scum has gathered there now. Even aristocrats do not disdain positions in the ministry now, if only to hold on to power that is slipping through their fingers like fine sand. Felicity turned out to be a surprisingly wonderful conversationalist, although I knew this before, but now she opened up to me from a new side, becoming more open and sociable. Perhaps the return of magic had a beneficial effect on her mood. She could support almost any topic, both in my magical sphere of interests and in ordinary everyday life, and if not, she listened attentively to my thoughts and nodded when the situation required it, clarifying points that were unclear to her and drawing her own conclusions. It is pleasant to communicate with a person who is not devoid of tact and sincerely wants to establish contact with you. And she clearly wanted this.
We did not even bypass such a specific topic as dark arts and ritual magic. We also touched on them unobtrusively, like a teenage couple in love who went on a date for the first time and are now hesitantly touching fingertips, testing the boundaries of their determination and permissibility. Still, the topic is quite specific. One could say, very personal.
Dark magicians generally do not spread about their abilities and knowledge even among their close friends (if they have any, of course), but... I think we crossed a certain line today, about five hours ago, when we completely lost our minds from euphoria and increased magical power and we wanted to prolong these incredibly pleasant sensations in a slightly different way. With sex.
Very good, long and even a little furious sex, where we both tried to subjugate the other, waging a "battle" for dominance in bed. It's a pity we were limited in time, otherwise this "war" would have threatened to move into the "attrition" category. Sometimes I even let this fury take over, because good relationships consist of compromises, and she clearly deserved encouragement, being a very diligent girl.
Yes, not at all because I was not at all against relaxing, allowing her to be on top, enjoying the divine view and sensations, catching my breath and only slightly helping her to increase the pace with her hips. Honestly!
Okay, you figured me out. Then I still got my own, rolling the girl over the sheets as my heart desired. The main thing is that we both got great pleasure from the process.
So it was possible and even useful to open the curtain a little. We are now in the same team and should at least roughly know what each of us in the group is capable of and what our strengths and weaknesses are. If one of us seriously stumbles, he will drag the rest of us under the ice. This is the greatest danger of expansion, but without it, there is no way. I understand everything with Caroline, she is my student, and we know a lot about each other's abilities firsthand, because we grew up together, developed together and fought together. Killed.
So we talked with Fel, periodically touching on personal topics and just each other, sharing impressions and warmth. Whatever you say, it is nice to sit like this, talk, touch each other and drink steaming hot tea from glass cups and a pot-bellied transparent teapot.
The teapot was the result of transfiguration, like the cups, everything else in the house was destroyed or evacuated. Only the things we transfigured lived out their days. The same table, for example. We were sitting in a treacherous ambush, waiting for fresh reinforcements for my army of infernals. Figuratively speaking, naturally. No one would hastily raise corpses, because who knows when other parties would come to us. It would be awkward if we were caught doing this, so we had to take care of the future a little and minimize the likelihood that people who would come in the footsteps of the first group of unsuccessful suicides would be able to come to us.
I myself still haven't figured out what kind of relationship I am in with Cinder now, we haven't raised this topic yet, but I liked the way Felicity treats me, how she looks at me, and how she perceives those things and my plans for the future that I told her about. This level of devotion and support was captivating - I felt her sincerity, since she didn't close herself off from me too much with Occlumency. Lovers, partners and accomplices? Perhaps, let it be so for now, and then we'll see.
While there were only two of us with Carol, we couldn't be considered a full-fledged group of conspirators and revolutionaries, but now there are three of us, and that's, as they say, a party...
We should think about the name of our future organization, because today we have declared ourselves one way or another. And how we will declare ourselves. And more than once.
We need something symbolic and with a deep meaning for those who can read between the lines. After all, we are planning to expand in the future! Such bad taste as the Death Eaters or the Order of the Phoenix will not suit us. I don't want to be called PS or fried chicken. I think "Wild Hunt" will suit us much better, because this phenomenon has a very ambiguous coloring. And it will not be offensive to shorten it. Wild? Hunters? Any option will suit me, because we are both.
The Wild Hunt in the distant past was led by the fairies, the true masters of dark magic, who taught people the basics of their dark arts, for which we thank them, by the way, when they still walked the earth. In the ranks of the Wild Hunt, one could often meet both powerful wizards and heroes of humanity and other magical races, gathering together to have a great time, hunting all sorts of evil spirits.
With fire and sword, the Wild Hunt swept across the land, eradicating the restless undead, dark creatures, mad necromancers, dark mages and liches who had lost themselves, cleaning out other dirt that covered the entire world like scale.
Since the fairies left the earth and went on a journey through other worlds, there was no one to clean this dirt, scale and plaque, because of which both Magical Britain and other countries, century after century, began to grow overgrown with all sorts of dark magic crap, which led us to the current state of affairs.
When all this shit accumulated too much, the patience of all parties snapped - the World War broke out, and then the second, opening this festering abscess. And although in the process of struggle most of the rot was filtered and destroyed, but not all. And the cycle began again, but not from the beginning, but somewhere in the middle, because there was no one to finish the job well. Everyone was too tired, and then it was too late.
There are too many parasites that hinder the development of magical society, mired in their blissful laziness, greed, lust, and rigidity of thought. A good blow was needed that could restart the stopped heart of magic. Development, not stagnation, that's what we need. And urgently. Without development, we will sooner or later die out as a species, and I, willy-nilly, consider myself a wizard, because I am a wizard, even if in the past I had the experience of being an ordinary person.
Ordinary people caught the wave of progress and are developing by leaps and bounds, but what about us? A complete disgrace. Instead of expanding and complicating the curriculum in the same school, I saw from year to year only simplification and reduction of the material presented. No, this is not Dumbledore's initiative, as many believed, all this is the merit of our "wonderful" ministry, which prefers to rule a dull, weak-willed and magically incapable herd. Cattle-magicians... How is this even possible?! It makes me sick.
Incidentally, this was one of the main theses of the Dark Lord, when he was just starting to gather supporters. Then he managed to recruit many talented offspring of noble families, outraged by such a development of events, greedy for forbidden knowledge and research, because the forbidden fruit is so sweet... should I not know? Yes, in the past, Tom clearly knew which points of the soul to press in order to bring a person to his knees without much effort. Just wave his dream in front of his nose and add a pinch of promises of a better future that would coincide with the secret desires of most wizards. Power, strength, knowledge, development. No matter how much the Dark Lord distorted his promises, he gave people what they wanted. For a symbolic fee. All that was left was their lives, freedom and future for his free use. The cunning bastard played on the delicate strings of the soul, manipulating the patriotism of naive idiots who flew like butterflies into the fire of hellfire.
I know that in another twenty years, ordinary people will be hopelessly ahead of us in almost everything except personal power. But who will need it in the twenty-first century, which is just around the corner? Only us, wizards, while ordinary people have long since stopped caring about personal power. They do not have the ability to devastate entire cities with a wave of a magic wand, but they have technology - a product of the collective genius of humanity, which can compete with magic almost on equal terms. Nuclear bombs, for example, biological and chemical weapons ...
But, in general, ordinary people have other aspirations. The same comfort that peasants in the past, and what's more, even kings, could not even dream of, and now such a level was as accessible as a loaf of stale bread in the Middle Ages (i.e., if you try and are not lazy, you can get it). And before, only wizards could provide themselves with a truly comfortable life in the Middle Ages. Now we are close to the fact that we will change places. Well, to generalize. In fact, any strong wizard can create any level of comfort for himself, but strong wizards have always been few, and after the recent wars, the population has not yet recovered.
Whether this is good or bad, it is not for me to judge. I just want to carve out a place for myself in the sun. Closer to the sun, higher, of course. A simple selfish dream, yes. And what other dream can a dark magician have? Peace in the whole world? Ha-ha, very funny. I fight for a cloudless sky for myself and my loved ones. Well, if in the process it turns out to improve the standard of living and education of wizards, then I will only be glad. Still, I live here, and I prefer to have a healthy atmosphere around me.
Okay, we'll discuss this later together, when we gather at the same table again. Because Caroline decided to leave us alone when she finished helping with the final preparations, which was quite tactful of her. Her help at this stage is not needed anyway.
Felicity is bait. I am the trigger for the trap, which will slam and set it in motion, nothing more. Well, I'll have some fun manually controlling my furry infernals. We will not be dodging under avadas. We have enough ways to bring justice and punishment at a safe distance.
Felicity occasionally cast spells with her wand, getting used to it again, doing simple magic, occasionally casting flirtatious glances at me. Showing off. But there was such happiness in her eyes from the fact that she could cast spells again that I couldn't help but smile, looking at her contented face. A happy smile suited her. Yes, I gave her one of my spare wands, one of those I took from the bodies of slain enemies. Yew and dragon heartstring. She was happy with it.
The wand didn't suit her very well, to be honest, but for now she'll have to make do with what she has. Getting a new one that suits her won't be that easy. The Ministry monitors all wand makers. Even those who work under the table. If possible. They can't keep track of everything. But we'll definitely come up with something. It is not right for one of the co-founders of the Wild Hunt to walk around with an inappropriate wand. The others will not understand.
Oh, I can feel the threads of my signal net tightening. It seems that a big fish has fallen into my net. A very big one, but stupid. Tonight we will have sashimi. From spiders. I myself will not eat them, I do not spoil my inner wolf so much. But I liked the idea of ordering myself some normal sushi. We can have lunch today in the company of Felicity. I will take her to a restaurant, or something, because somehow our relationship did not start out quite normally. (Not normal at all!)
I pulled a crystal ball out of my robe pocket and set it on a special stand in the center of the table. Many people underestimate Professor Trelawney's lessons, but I know that she is not a charlatan at all. And Amos in the past knew it too.
Those who know how to listen and show interest and, most importantly, at least a drop of talent for its subject, receive from it invaluable knowledge, the use of which a smart wizard will always find.
I had a very weak talent for divination and prophecy, but do not underestimate this small drop of special power in my arsenal. My intuition is very good, including thanks to this drop, and even if I lack the strength and talent to look into the chaotic accumulation of countless changeable facets of the future that has not yet come true, and even if there is no way to force my way through the past, hardened like thousand-year-old amber, but ... I can still easily observe the present, using a crystal ball and some preparations.
It seems like nothing complicated, it turned out to be something like a modern (by my standards) surveillance system, into which dozens of floating video cameras are woven, transmitting images in all spectra online. But how convenient, Dementor take me. Now we can enjoy the show while drinking tea. Too bad I didn't think to buy popcorn.
And with this gadget, it's much easier for me to control my little (actually, not so little) furry minions. They're not very proactive after death, to be honest, you need to constantly direct them to get a good result. Like mobs in strategy games. So the ball will help me coordinate attack and defense, and Felicity won't be bored. Let's go.
***
Felicity watched with interest as her chosen one conjured over the crystal ball, connecting more and more images floating on the translucent surface to the magical sphere. His attention covered the entire territory of the huge trap into which he had turned his former base, which had been written off. For her sake, he even sacrificed his own base... well, not only, but nevertheless.
Yes, the girl had already decided for herself who she wanted to connect her life with. For her, Amos was almost the perfect option.
She immediately liked the wizard purely in appearance, back then, in the club, and later, during conversations, she also managed to become sympathetic to him, finding a surprising amount in common with a guy much younger than herself. It was easy fun with him and she did not have to hide her dark side, because it seemed that it did not frighten him at all. On the contrary, it even attracted him.
Of course, at first she had to deceive him a little, playing almost a good girl, but having thrown off the masks that day, neither she nor Amos were in a hurry to put them back on. This was already enough to interest her.
His bloodthirsty smile, flashing on his predatory pale face when their enemies came into his field of vision, even excited the girl a little, although she understood that this was a little abnormal.
Their enemies, yes... not only hers, but his as well. How pleasant it was for Felicity to think that he was ready to go so far for her sake. Of course, deep down she understood that Amos was primarily looking for his own benefit, but... the girl's heart still beat faster, and her cheeks flushed a little, while she watched with a burning gaze as he slowly but surely tightened the noose around the necks of the bastards she hated.
Like a ruthless and cunning poisonous spider that wraps a stupid and careless midge in a cocoon, entangled in its strong, sticky web. She bit her lower lip lightly, feeling the gentle touch of the anti-apparition dome that covered the area around the base. The trap slammed shut, the game began.
The second thing she really, really liked about him was his actions, which spoke for themselves, and much louder and more honestly than any sweet speeches that she had previously heard from numerous suitors who promised to get the stars from the sky, but were not ready to even help bury a corpse on a moonlit summer night. Pffff. She was not interested in the like. Words are empty, only deeds matter, now she understands that.
The fact that he came to her aid when she was a little cornered by those bearded idiots in the club only added a few points to his score, because any guy was good at showing off and fluffing up his tail, but the way he then quietly cursed them, avenging her... Oh-oh-oh-oh, she appreciated that, having managed to recognize the characteristic signs of a very dark curse. Did it repel her? Not at all. Quite the contrary, it aroused real interest. She clearly understood that this one would definitely not disdain to help her bury a couple of corpses in the night forest. Mordred, maybe she herself will have to help him, hee-hee. And Felicity wouldn't mind. Night, a cemetery, a high moon, deathly silence, a dark mage and a witch quickly digging a fresh grave... R-romantic!
She liked his ruthlessness and cold fury much more than the ostentatious bravado of other young men who were only good at showing off, and as soon as they got to know her a little better, they immediately ran with their tails between their legs. But Amos knew the most unsightly moments of her biography and he didn't give a damn how many she had put under the knife, even if not entirely of her own free will. And then he gave her back her magic… He gave it back, despite how badly she had screwed up in front of him, by crashing into his house and taking his mother hostage. Any other dark mage in his place would have casually turned her inside out, but he acted wiser and more cold-bloodedly - he preferred to use her, surrounding her with contracts and geas. He gave her a chance and hope. And it would seem that this should have terribly infuriated the freedom-loving witch, like any other restrictions, but under the influence of her forced wanderings, deprivations and omnipresent magical thirst, Felicity moderated her pride a little and learned to think long-term...
Having carefully studied the terms of the contracts and geas, she came to an interesting conclusion. Instead of actual slavery and complete submission, with which she had already internally resigned herself, the conditions he offered were closer to a contract between a teacher and a student, albeit somewhat one-sided.
He was not obliged to teach her anything, and he did not take on any serious obligations as a mentor, just purely symbolic ones, but she had to strictly follow the letter and spirit of the contract, as his full-fledged student. Which was not so bad. No one forbade her to show diligence and demonstrate her usefulness and devotion so that the formal teacher would become a real one.
She was aware that in some aspects of magic he was far ahead of her, although in combat magic and Voodoo magic the witch could give him a challenge. But in ritual and rune magic, as well as artifact making and theoretical dark magic, he was already an order of magnitude superior to her. So learning from him would really be very useful. Basically, Amos was able to surprise her here, and very pleasantly. At fifteen, he was already a fully formed personality and a very strong dark magician with great ambitions and opportunities. It was interesting to connect your life with someone like that, you won't get bored.
In general, she noticed that he had been rather gentle with her from the very beginning, and she liked this selectivity of his very much. But she would have liked him to have such an attitude only towards her, and there was also this small red-haired upstart, Caroline. She was the one who irritated her with her very presence. Only the fact that she, it seemed, did not lay claim to Amos in this sense, slightly smoothed out the burning jealousy seething in the heart of the dark witch. Having made sure that the relationship between Amos and Carol was strictly friendly and working, she calmed down a little and even found a big plus in this.
She did not want to admit it, but Sharpheart was quite pretty. Enough to almost compete with herself, and that was a level. So, while Amos was at Hogwarts, Caroline's mere presence with him should dash any hopes in ninety-nine percent of the girls in the school, even if they all wanted him for themselves, and she hoped very much that that remaining percent did not include the young witches interested in him. In this context, Felicity even considered the option of a friendship-alliance with Caroline, so that she would discourage even that lonely percent of beauties from him for the sake of her dear older friend. In exchange, she could reluctantly share her knowledge of Voodoo or dark magic with her.
All in all, the contracts and geas between them were quite lenient. In his place, she would have tightened the collar around her neck much tighter, and he... gave her a chance at redemption and even the opportunity to stand next to him, and not crawl at his feet like a beaten mongrel.
She also appreciated this, promising herself that she would make him hers no matter what it cost her and would be a loyal and useful assistant in all his endeavors, even if she somehow failed. Even if Amos went crazy and became an uncontrollable and cruel dark wizard, she would stay by his side until the very end, until they were raised on pitchforks by a raging crowd. Like that crazy bitch Bellatrix, who became famous for her frantic loyalty to Voldemort, bordering on real insanity. Probably, he meant a lot to her too.
Cinder watched, fascinated, as his fingers moved around the crystal ball, as if weaving the finest invisible web. Amos was like a maestro, like an experienced puppeteer, for whom the horrors and bloody scenes taking place in the crystal ball were just another performance, nothing more.
His smile and eyes glowing with silver moonlight made her shudder languidly. She was afraid to even move, so as not to break his concentration.
Amos, absorbed in his work, captured all her attention, and even the most interesting events of the execution of those whom she hated so fiercely could not distract her gaze, burning with desire, from his attractive face.
The magic wand danced in his hands, as if he was conducting a huge orchestra, and in time with his sharp, precise movements, huge hairy spiders fell from the treetops onto the heads of the invaders, crushing their magic shields, and then their bones, like a multi-ton press, making the battle mages who fell under the distribution look like old accordions.
Their poisonous mandibles dug into the pliable flesh, piercing shields like thin plywood, depriving experienced fighters of a chance to put up adequate resistance. The corpse poison of not quite dead acromantulas was simply too poisonous to be suppressed by simple healing spells or universal antidotes, so one bite was equal to an agonizing death. The poison liquefied the bones and internal organs of the unfortunate souls, turning them into jelly in a matter of minutes.
Oh, how graceful! One of the spiders jumped so high that even Felicity and Amos, carefully observing the battlefield from all angles, momentarily lost sight of it, and then it landed right in the center of the enemy formation, the runes on its chitinous shell filled with red light and it... exploded.
The green poisonous mist quickly spread around the area, affecting the respiratory tract of everyone who had not managed to raise special protective spells against this type of attack in time. The poison that had gotten on the skin would have taken the lives of the wizards sooner or later, but those who had inhaled it deeply were definitely not long for this world. Everyone who had stood at the epicenter of the defeat had already begun to vomit out their own lungs.
In fact, almost half of the wizards had managed to involuntarily take a breath or two before they could even realize the threat. Many were too busy trying to survive, fighting off an army of infernal spiders, to even keep an eye on their surroundings.
And their despair was understandable. The creatures were practically not burning, and the lightning that should have stunned ordinary acromantulas, for some reason did not work. All this also did not add to the fighting spirit of the mercenaries and aristocrats who had been scared to the point of wet pants and who had decided to personally lead the attack. Of course, it was not the heads of the families who came here, only members of their families and side branches of the family. But still, they were fools.
On this wonderful moonlit night, the Ogden, Avery, Goyle and Nott families will suffer truly colossal losses, first losing their heads, and now other strong representatives of the family. All hope for the continuation of their dynasty will be concentrated in the hands of their growing heirs, because after today there will be almost no fighting men left in their families. Ha! Even the servants of the family and their vassals who responded to the call of their overlords will clearly become much fewer. Everyone will fall here, no one will leave alive.
It seems that noble blood was worth something after all, since one of the idiots guessed to direct a group of survivors towards their refuge house. On the one hand, it is a completely logical step, because if you can't cope with the creations of a powerful necromancer, then just kill the necromancer himself. On the other hand, this choice is good in a normal situation, but not very safe if you showed up in the lair of the necromancer himself. And their route was too predictable. There were a hell of a lot of deadly traps on their way.
Here is one of the unlucky wizards, covering the breakthrough of the remnants of the main detachment, backing away, tripped over the thinnest thread of web stretched between the trees and fell on his ass. Boom! A rune carved among the roots with a delayed bombard inside went off near his face. His brains splashed across the forest like rotten tomato juice.
Spiders immediately poured into the breach, continuing to pursue their unfortunate targets. Now the invaders were being driven from behind by overgrown infernal spiders, sated with the emanations of wizards' deaths, and ahead of them were numerous traps that time and again cut short the lives of wizards who had begun the deadly game of survival.
Someone fell into a wolf pit, impaling themselves on wooden stakes soaked in spider venom. Someone stepped on a very ordinary Muggle mine (I wonder where Amos got that?), which flew up with a click and exploded, scattering deadly shrapnel around. Several unlucky ones were turned into a sieve. Their kinetic shields could not stop so many fast-moving small objects at such a close distance from the explosion. Too many and too fast.
Here someone ran into a cursed bush, which grabbed the legs of a pretty red-haired witch with its strong roots and branches, knocking her to the ground. None of the wizards running to break through stopped to help their comrade calling for help. They didn't even turn around. Soon, undead spiders caught up with her and her heart-rending scream broke off on a high note.
Oh, here it is the pathetic group of survivors almost reached the house. Only to realize that it was nothing more than a mirage. A projection, an illusion, a deception. They should have run in a completely different direction. But they were already too late, the spiders were close. Only strong bombards, tearing them to pieces, helped in the fight against them.
Before death, it became clear that a fatal outcome was inevitable and the stress and fear that had piled up forced them to make decisions that contradicted logic.
One of the noble wizards, an Ogden, it seemed, tried to disregard everything and apparate despite the still-functioning dome they were trapped under. Or maybe he just panicked and forgot about it. Half of his body was thrown out into the forest, where it hung on a web like a dried leaf, and his legs and a piece of his torso remained standing. His knees buckled and a piece of meat slapped the ground, drenching the expensive shoes of a squealing Goyle in blood.
Someone was frantically trying to use the portkey, someone to break through the protection and apparate, but the spatial anchors fixed by dark rituals did not let them. Another simply became exhausted and fell to his knees, choking on a bloody cough - it seemed the Acromantula's venom had finally caught up with him. Of course, if they had time, even a minute to spare, some of them would have been able to escape, but... who would have given them that minute, huh? In a fight, even five seconds is an eternity.
Oh, it seems Vincent Nott, the younger brother of the head of the Nott family, decided to sell his life at a higher price and summoned hellfire.
"Hah. What a good guy. He decided to help Amos cover up all his tracks himself." Felicity gloated inwardly.
All the allies of the maddened magician were the first to be dealt with, becoming fuel for kindling their own funeral pyre. Their faces distorted in horror were an unforgettable gift for Felicity, much nicer than a bouquet of red roses or a chocolate bar. She would write it down to Amos, so that she could thank him later with all her passion.
The spiders did not run away from the flames, but threw themselves straight into the fire, feeding it even more with their dark necromana flowing through their dead bodies. Vincent Nott's face, distorted with tension, twisted in horror when he realized that he had overextended himself and could no longer control his own spell, destabilized by the simultaneous injection of a large amount of alien mana. Well, of course. Higher dark magic, after all, is always like that. A double-edged blade. Soon, not even a flake of ash remained of Vincent. Everything burned, including his dirty soul.
The fire was growing stronger. Putting it out would be oh so difficult, because the longer the hellish flames burn, the more they eat and grow, feeding themselves with the surrounding mana. However, in this they were very similar to an ordinary forest fire. It was possible to leave calmly. The fire itself will cover up all traces, devouring the corpses, the spiders, the house with its numerous remaining traps, and a couple of hectares of forest to boot.
Amos, having also come to this conclusion, chuckled contentedly, and, running his wand over the crystal ball, made the rapidly changing pictures go out, after which he stood up, stretched and yawned.
"Okay, we're done here, we're leaving," he smiled tiredly and extended his hand to her, "grab it."
"Thank you. For everything!" the witch mirrored the smile and grabbed the outstretched palm tightly, and the two magicians disappeared into the funnel of spatial movement, leaving behind a burning forest and a pile of corpses.
Immediately after their departure, the entire house lit up with red Celtic runes, which had become filled with enough power and released it, exploding, completely wiping the building off the face of the earth. Hellfire greedily devoured the pitiful remains.
Only fifteen minutes later, emergency teams of Aurors and employees of the Department of Mysteries arrived at the scene, who, having put in a lot of effort, were able to first localize the hellfire, and then completely deprive it of mana and, after a couple of hours of continuous fighting with the fire, extinguish it.
They may have extinguished the hellfire, but the flame of the flaring scandal, on the contrary, began to gain momentum. The Ministry and the Aurorate promised to have an extremely busy week ahead, and the journalists' mouths began to water. Whether from rage or anticipation, who can tell?
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