The captured leader lay on the ground, bound by Newt's spell, his silence as unyielding as the ropes holding him in place. His gaze flicked between Arthur's group, taking in their expressions, their stances, and most of all, the badges and robes they wore.
Arthur crouched beside him, his voice steady but edged with authority. "You're going to tell us everything about this operation—the shipments, the routes, and who's behind all of it."
The leader's lips pressed into a thin line, his defiance clear.
Arthur's eyes narrowed, but he kept his composure. "You can stay silent if you want. But it won't end well for you."
Hecate stepped forward, her voice cold and cutting. "He's stalling. He thinks he can outlast us. But we have all the time in the world." Her glowing hands hovered menacingly over him, faint traces of her shadow magic rippling in the air.
Still, the leader said nothing.
Taliesin sighed, strumming a single ominous note on his harp. "This one's stubborn. Or maybe just overconfident."
It was then that the leader's eyes lingered on the badges pinned to their robes, a faint sneer tugging at his lips. His voice broke the silence, low and mocking. "The Ministry?" He chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "You're Ministry operatives?"
Arthur exchanged a glance with Hecate, who arched an eyebrow. "What of it?" Arthur asked.
The leader's sneer widened. "Your disguise doesn't even make sense, you bellend" he laughed. "You don't even know who bloody you're messing with, do you?" His voice dripped with derision. "This operation is protected—hidden by one of the Council of the Ministry itself. And with the Malmorins backing us, we're untouchable."
Arthur's expression hardened, but before he could respond, Newt stepped forward, his eyes blazing with fury. "The Council? Those incompetent fools…" he muttered bitterly under his breath.
The leader laughed softly, his confidence growing. "I don't know who you fuckers are. But, you can't touch me. None of you can. And when the Malmorins hear of this—"
The leader's words were cut short as the air around him darkened. The faint tendrils of shadow magic that had been rippling through the forest surged suddenly, curling upward like living smoke.
Hecate stepped forward, her voice soft but deadly. "Let me make something very clear. Whatever protection you think you have doesn't extend here. This is Avalon's reach. And in Avalon, I decide who leaves."
The leader's confidence faltered, his sneer vanishing as the shadows coiled closer, their edges sharp and jagged. He tried to shift, but Newt's binding spell held him in place.
"Wait!" he shouted, panic creeping into his voice. "I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"
Hecate tilted her head, her expression cold and unyielding. "Then start talking. Quickly."
The leader's breathing quickened. "Kvitsøy!" he blurted out. "There's a shipment heading there, but it's just one of many! The Malmorins… they've got other routes, other buyers. They're too big to stop!"
Arthur leaned in, his voice calm but firm. "What other routes? Where are they?"
The leader swallowed hard. "Antwerp. The ports there—smaller shipments leave all the time. Magical creatures, enchanted artifacts… It's how they keep their operation under the radar. I don't know the rest."
Newt's tone was sharp as he asked, "Who are the buyers?"
"I don't know!" the leader said quickly. "The buyers change—different clients for different shipments. All I know is the cargo and the drop points!"
Arthur's gaze remained fixed on him. "And who gives the orders?"
The leader hesitated, his confidence wavering completely now. "The Malmorins control everything," he said in a near-whisper. "They oversee the shipments, the deals… everything. You can't stop them. No one can."
As the group exchanged glances, Arthur stood, satisfied they had gotten what they needed. "All right," he said. "You've been helpful enough. We'll leave you for the magical authorities to deal with."
The leader let out a shaky breath, relief flickering across his face. "Good," he muttered. "Finally, someone reasonable…"
But his relief was short-lived. Hecate stepped closer, her shadow magic swirling ominously. "Oh, no," she said softly. "We don't leave loose ends."
The leader's eyes widened in terror as his own shadow began to rise beneath him, twisting and contorting unnaturally. "Wait!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "You said—"
"I said nothing," Hecate replied coldly. "Your usefulness is over."
The shadows surged upward, wrapping around the leader and dragging him downward into the ground. His screams were muffled as the darkness consumed him entirely, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.
Arthur turned sharply to Hecate, his voice filled with anger. "Was that necessary?"
Taliesin placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, his expression somber but firm. "Yes, lad. It was. If he lived, he'd warn the others. They'd scatter, and we'd lose the chance to stop them."
Arthur's fists clenched, but he said nothing, his gaze dropping to the empty spot where the leader had been. The weight of the situation bore down on him, and though he hated what had been done, he knew Taliesin was right.
As the group moved through the camp, releasing the magical creatures from their cages, they began to notice a striking detail. The beasts weren't just from Europe—they were from all over the world. Occamies from Asia, nundus from Africa, thunderbirds from the Americas, and bowtruckles from various forests across the globe all emerged, their fear giving way to curiosity and relief.
Mulan observed one of the nundus cautiously sniffing the air as it exited its reinforced cage. "This is no ordinary operation," she remarked. "For them to have creatures from so many regions, this camp must be just one piece of a much larger network."
Newt nodded grimly. "You're right. A camp here in the Black Forest and another in Antwerp… those are only fractions of the operation. For them to capture and hold this many creatures, there must be camps on every continent."
Arthur's expression darkened. "So this isn't just about some run of the mill poachers group anymore."
Hecate crossed her arms, her gaze sweeping over the freed creatures. "It means they're well-funded, well-connected, and far more dangerous than we initially thought."
As the last cage was opened, some of the creatures began to gravitate toward the group. A shimmering occamy coiled near Newt, its silvery scales reflecting the dim light. A griffin stepped forward, its powerful talons clicking softly on the ground as it nudged Arthur gently with its beak.
Other creatures lingered near the group, their intelligent eyes scanning the humans who had freed them.
Arthur glanced at Newt. "Some of them seem like they want to come with us."
Newt knelt beside a bowtruckle perched on a broken cage, gently extending his hand. The creature hopped onto his palm, chittering softly. "It happens," Newt said, his voice calm. "Creatures like these sense intent. They know who means them harm and who doesn't."
Arthur sighed, stroking the griffin's feathers. "But we can't bring them along for what's next. They'd only be in danger."
Newt gave a small, reassuring smile. "Agreed. Any that want to come will stay in my basement. It's safer there until this is over."
Newt stepped back, setting his magical suitcase on the ground. He opened it, the lid swinging wide to reveal the enchanted space within. He knelt by the edge, gently coaxing the creatures that wished to follow inside. The occamy slithered in gracefully, the griffin folding its wings as it stepped into the case. Smaller creatures like bowtruckles and diricawls followed, their movements cautious but trusting.
Arthur watched as the suitcase accommodated the diverse array of creatures, its magical properties making the transition seamless. "That thing really is incredible," he said, his voice tinged with admiration.
Newt chuckled softly. "It's been my greatest tool and my safest haven for creatures like these."
Once all the willing creatures were inside, Newt closed the suitcase with a gentle click. "Well done, everyone," he said, standing and brushing off his coat. "Let's head back to my house. The basement will give them the space and safety they need for now."
Arthur nodded. "Lead the way."
With a series of pops, the group apparated back to Newt's house in London. The sun had already set, and the quiet hum of the evening city surrounded them as they stepped inside.
Newt immediately moved to his basement, carefully opening his suitcase and guiding the creatures into their new temporary home. The space, enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, provided a lush and secure environment tailored to the needs of magical beasts.
Arthur stood at the edge of the basement, watching as the creatures began to settle in. "You've done good work here, Newt. This place… it's remarkable."
Newt smiled warmly, his love for his work evident in his expression. "It's a sanctuary for them. And as long as it stands, they'll always have a place to call home."
Once the creatures were settled, Newt turned to the group. "You've all done a lot today. How about we celebrate with a drink? There's a pub in Hogsmeade called The Three Broomsticks—it's a bit of a walk from here, but it's worth it."
Taliesin's eyes lit up. "A pub? Now you're speaking my language."
Hecate smirked. "I suppose a drink wouldn't hurt."
Arthur exchanged a glance with Mulan, who nodded slightly. "All right," he said with a small smile. "Let's go."
The group left Newt's house, the promise of warmth and camaraderie at The Three Broomsticks a welcome relief after the intensity of their mission. For now, they allowed themselves a brief respite, knowing the fight against the Malmorins and their network was far from over.
The small village of Hogsmeade welcomed the group with a warm, rustic charm. The cobblestone streets, lined with snow-dusted cottages and bustling shops, were illuminated by lanterns that cast a golden glow against the twilight.
Arthur walked through the streets with a subtle awe he struggled to suppress. He had seen Hogsmeade before, but only in movies and descriptions—it was entirely different to experience it firsthand. The smells of butterbeer and fresh pastries wafted through the air, and the sound of laughter and chatter echoed from every corner.
Despite the urge to let his amazement show, Arthur kept his thoughts to himself, quietly taking in every detail.
The Three Broomsticks was just as lively as the streets outside, its interior filled with the warmth of crackling fires and the aroma of spiced drinks. Newt led the way, finding them a cozy table tucked in the corner. They ordered a round of drinks—Arthur opting for butterbeer, Hecate and Taliesin choosing mead, and Mulan politely requesting water.
As they sat and let the evening settle in, the conversation turned casual. They spoke of little things—Taliesin regaling them with tales of Avalon's past guests, Mulan sharing anecdotes of her time in training, and Newt talking about his favorite magical creatures.
Time passed easily, the weight of their mission temporarily lifted as they enjoyed the rare moment of camaraderie.
Eventually, Arthur leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "We should talk about what's next," he said, his tone shifting back to seriousness.
Newt nodded, setting his butterbeer down. "You're right. Here's what I suggest—we need more information, and we need more allies."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Newt adjusted his scarf thoughtfully. "When I was at Hogwarts, I founded a small club for students interested in magical creatures. The members weren't just enthusiasts—they all had a soft spot for magical beasts, just like me. Some of them have gone on to do incredible work in the magical world."
He paused, his eyes flickering with a mix of nostalgia and determination. "I'm going to try contacting them. If anyone can help us protect these creatures and uncover more about the Malmorins, it's them."
Hecate tilted her head. "Do you think they'll still want to help? It's been years, hasn't it?"
Newt smiled faintly. "They're not the type to forget their roots. I'll send out owls tonight, and hopefully, we'll hear back soon."
Arthur nodded. "That sounds like a good start. What should we do in the meantime?"
Newt gestured to the group. "Explore. There's so much of the magical world hidden here—things that could give you insight or connections we might need later. Let's regroup at my house tomorrow at noon. By then, I should have an idea of who can join us."
With the plan set, the conversation drifted back to lighter topics. Taliesin teased Arthur about his choice of butterbeer, calling it "a drink for children," while Arthur countered by pointing out Taliesin's excessive fondness for storytelling.
Hecate, meanwhile, shared a few humorous observations about Avalon's quirks, and even Mulan allowed herself a quiet chuckle at some of Taliesin's antics.
After a while, they decided it was time to leave. Newt bid them goodnight, heading back to his house to write letters to his old friends. Arthur, Mulan, Taliesin, and Hecate lingered for a moment outside The Three Broomsticks, the crisp night air cooling their flushed faces.
As Newt disappeared into the distance, Arthur turned to the others. "I think we should take Newt's advice and explore. London's got plenty of magical places hidden in plain sight, doesn't it?"
Taliesin grinned, adjusting his harp. "Sounds like an adventure. Let's see what this city has to offer, magical and otherwise."
Hecate smirked, her eyes glinting with intrigue. "Agreed. Let's see if London can surprise us."
Mulan nodded. "Lead the way, Arthur. It's your world, after all."
With renewed energy, the group set off into the night, ready to uncover the hidden wonders of London's magical underbelly and its ties to the ordinary world. For now, the battle against the Malmorins could wait—just long enough for them to prepare for what lay ahead.
Arthur and his group wandered through the enchanting streets of Hogsmeade, the crisp night air filled with the faint hum of magic and laughter. Taliesin hummed a tune, occasionally strumming his harp, while Mulan admired the village's unique architecture, her eyes sharp and curious.
Arthur's gaze drifted as they passed Honeydukes, where students eagerly pressed their noses to the glass, ogling the displays of sweets. The Three Broomsticks was still lively, its golden glow spilling onto the cobblestones, and further down the lane, the faint chime of magical clocks from a shop added to the quaint charm.
Yet, amidst all this, Arthur's thoughts turned inward. I wonder what Harry's doing right now, he mused.
Meanwhile…
In the Gryffindor dormitory, Harry Potter sat cross-legged on his bed, a second-year Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook open before him. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of pages or the faint crackle from the fireplace in the common room beyond.
Harry frowned, reading through the chapter on disarming spells. While the instructions were clear, the concepts didn't sink in as easily as he'd hoped. He tried to focus, but his thoughts wandered.
His mind drifted back to the magical books Arthur had gifted him during his brief stay in Avalon. Somehow, those books felt... different. The lessons within them had clicked with him naturally, their magical properties seeming to align with his learning in a way that Hogwarts textbooks never quite managed.
Finally, he closed the book with a soft thud, sighing in mild frustration. 'The Avalon books... they made things easier. It's like they understood me.'
Harry decided to leave his dormitory and head down to the common room. As he descended the stairs, the warmth and liveliness of Gryffindor House greeted him. Students were scattered across the cozy space, some studying, others chatting or playing games.
Near the hearth, Ron sat at a table, engrossed in a game of wizard's chess with another student. A small crowd had gathered around them, watching as Ron's pieces moved with precision, his strategic prowess evident.
Harry grinned, weaving through the students to join the circle. "How's it going, Ron?"
Ron didn't glance up, his focus unwavering as he moved a knight into position. "Not bad. Just about to corner him."
Fred and George leaned casually against the back of Ron's chair, their identical grins mischievous as they watched the match.
"Oi, Ron," Fred said, nudging his brother, "don't mess this up. You've got a reputation to uphold."
George added, smirking, "Yeah, wouldn't want people to think you've lost your touch."
Ron scowled, his ears reddening, but he kept his eyes on the board. "Would you two shove off? You're not helping."
The group burst into laughter, including Harry, who took a seat beside Hermione. She glanced at him with an amused smile. "I see you've given up on studying for now."
Harry shrugged. "For now. Figured I'd join the fun instead."
As the chess match continued, the Gryffindor common room buzzed with life, filled with warmth, laughter, and the camaraderie of friends. For Harry, moments like this felt like a brief but welcome reprieve from the mysteries and challenges that always seemed to follow him.
…
Arthur and his group paused near the edge of the village, the dim lights of Hogsmeade glowing behind them. He couldn't help but smile faintly, his thoughts lingering on Hogwarts.
"You've been quiet," Taliesin noted, his harp slung over his shoulder. "Thinking about someone?"
Arthur chuckled softly. "Just wondering how Harry's doing. He's got a lot on his plate."
Hecate crossed her arms, her sharp gaze softening slightly. "If he's anything like you, he'll manage just fine."
Mulan nodded in agreement. "The bonds we form—whether with friends, allies, or mentors—shape us. He has that at Hogwarts, just as you have it here."
Arthur looked at his companions, their words resonating with him. "Thanks. Let's keep exploring—there's still so much to see."
The group continued their walk, the night alive with the promise of discovery. But in Arthur's heart, he knew their paths were all connected, even across worlds, as they each faced challenges in their own ways.