Aftermath: The Big Three

Tom Riddle was in a foul mood as he activated the portkey. This was another entry in the list of humiliating retreats Potter had forced on him. Although this time, there was no luck involved. The brat had done all this damage, and he was furious. The only other time he sustained so much damage was when his body was disintegrated by the rebounding killing curse.

The unpleasant pull of the portkey was an annoyance that exacerbated the pain, but he was not the Dark Lord for nothing. He could handle this much for a few more minutes.

What he did not expect was to be dumped in the middle of a blazing inferno. It took his mind a second to comprehend what was happening, but it was a second too late. The fire had found purchase on his body. He would recognize the cursed flames of a fiendfyre anywhere.

He screamed in pain and rage as he unleashed his mental might on the raging flames. It took him a few moments, but he managed to snuff the flames at last. He plopped on the ground, groaning as he looked around in confusion.

The entire place was burnt to a crisp and what remained were smoking debris and piles of ash. He lifted his wand to cast a spell to ascertain his location, but to his increasing temper, the wand crumbled in his hands, affected by the brief contact with the foreign fiendfyre.

The wand was his constant companion ever since he stepped into the magical world. It was a symbol of his power. Countless people cowered whenever he had raised his wand at them. He had performed untold feats of magic with that wand. And now it was gone. Nothing more than broken wood and ash. At that moment, Tom felt like he had lost a piece of himself.

Cursing under his breath, he wobbled and got up on his foot. He took stock of himself and detested what had been done to him. Cursed burns had ravaged his skin in most places. He was glad that he managed to get it under control before the damage went deeper. Some of the cuts he got from the glass pieces sent his way by Potter had been cauterized. But he would not consider that a blessing. Losing blood was a better outcome than suffering from fiendfyre-induced burns.

He gasped as the stab wound on his torso reopened over the cauterization and spurted a dollop of blood. A knife wound, something that Bella had also suffered from. She had been driven up the wall due to the curse on the wound. They were barely able to curb its intensity, but she said that the pain was constant nonetheless. If this were the same thing, then he needed to get it looked at by Severus or Rookwood.

A part of him was furious about losing his most loyal and vicious servant, but he would dwell on it later. He needed to get a wand first and foremost. Magically, he was tapped out at the moment. His body was battered and his mind was also on the verge of giving up.

He whirled around as the pop of apparition startled him. His arm twitched in the attempt of summoning his wand before he remembered what happened to it. No matter, he still had a repertoire of spells that he could perform without a wand, but it was nowhere enough for a full-on fight. Especially in his current condition.

"Milord," muttered an all too familiar voice. His loyal servant, Rookwood was here. He would not show the relief on his face though. He needed to maintain the image of strength, even in such a pitiful state.

"Rookwood, where are we?" he hissed.

Augustus gulped for a moment before speaking, "Malfoy Manor milord. Or what is left of it."

Tom blinked for a moment and rubbed his forehead in annoyance. He could feel his knees buckling, but he would not fall to the floor again.

"What happened here?"

"Forgive me milord, but I do not know. I was in your manor, performing my tasks when I got several notifications regarding the wards I had set up. The wards here were collapsed by fiendfyre, so I apparated outside the compound just to be safe. When I came here, the whole manor was aflame, and there were some foreign anti-transportation measures in place."

"So nobody made it out?" he asked, his rage spiking once more.

"No, milord," he said in a somber tone.

Tom's heart sank as he realized that Nagini would have been caught in the fire.

"Your wand," he commanded without preamble and Rookwood handed him his wand without an ounce of hesitation. It felt a little sluggish in his hand, but it would do for now.

Tom waved the foreign wand and tried to tap into the tracing spell he had layered on Nagini. He almost snapped the wand in a tantrum when he felt the spell fizzle out.

"Let's go to my manor then," he said after a tense silence.

"Milord…" Rook wood trialed off while giving shifty looks around the place.

"What is it?" barked Tom in increasing annoyance.

"The other hideouts have also been breached. I did not personally go there yet, as this hideout was the priority. None of the others had been hit with fiendfyre as well. I would need to scope out those locations discreetly to find out what happened. It is better if we don't return to locations that are known to others," he mumbled in fear.

Tom snarled as he took a step towards Rookwood, but then stopped himself from doing so. Rookwood was competent, a cut above most of his servants. It was a feat in itself that he was able to ascertain the status of so many wards at once. It would not do well to punish him just yet.

"Your arm," he yelled the command, and Rookwood brandished the Dark Mark without a word.

As the tip of the wand was about to touch the mark, Tom hesitated. He remembered how his own Death Eaters had turned on him. Logic dictated that Potter had done something, but he was not quite ready to call forth his army in his weakened state.

It was highly risky if the others took a shot at him now like they did quite a few minutes ago. He could not risk it if the summoned Death Eaters were also befuddled. And the fact that their hideouts had been hit simultaneously meant that they had a mole in their midst. He wondered whether Severus was as loyal as he portrayed, or whether it was someone else who had done this.

He could trust Rookwood. Not the man himself; no. Tom never just trusted people. He trusted their motives, their agenda, and their thirst for power. Most of all, he trusted their fear and reverence towards him. Rookwood was not a simpleton. As a former Unspeakable, Rookwood knew enough about esoteric magic to help him patch himself up. The man had spent years in Azkaban for him, unlike the other cowards, so he trusted Rookwood's willingness to serve.

Once he was sufficiently patched up and recovered, they would summon Severus and see about gleaning how exactly their locations got leaked. Most were unplottable and were hidden behind severe wards. He did not use the fidelius for the common hideouts because they interfered with some of the hidden features of the Dark Mark. That decision had come back to bite him on the hind. He did not expect Potter to be such a vicious and resourceful annoyance. Right at that moment, he did not need those features and it would be safer to go to one of his unknown boltholes hidden by the fidelius.

"No. We will go to one of my hideouts that nobody else knows about. I have a few tasks for you once we do," he said as he started pacing in place, thinking about which one to go to.

The thumping noise with each step of his silver leg ushered in a wave of anger yet again. He glanced at the new prosthetic and realized that it already needed repairs due to its brief brush with the fiendfyre.

For a second, he contemplated ridding himself of this body and guiding Rookwood into performing the ritual once again. Even though Nagini and the diary were gone, he still had his other horcruxes so it shouldn't be an issue. What stopped him was that he would need to get Potter's blood once more and that was an impediment.

He couldn't use his own blood to do the ritual, and if he used anyone else's blood, Potter might gain that infernal protection yet again. He did not want to be burnt to a crisp due to a mere touch. He would do it if he could get his hands on Potter's blood, but right now, he would make do with this banged-up body. He had all the time in the world. He was immortal after all.

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Albus Dumbledore winced as Poppy refused to show any restraint while she examined the damage he incurred. Unlike Tom, Albus did not have any notable physical injuries. There were the occasional nicks and bruises, but other than that, the main concern was his fatigue.

The withering curse had damaged his magic indeed. At his age, such an impediment drastically affected his performance in battle. He had dueled Gellert when he was wielding the Elder Wand, compared to that duel, this was absolute rubbish. He had gotten tired way too quickly and was not able to push as much magic into his spells as he would have liked. This was completely unacceptable.

He sighed as he was once again reminded of his priorities. He was a dying relic. His power was waning, his body was crumbling. He had to get started with teaching young Harry. He had realized that he would be long dead before he imparted all his knowledge. That was why he had been spending the last couple of weeks preparing vials full of memories. Memories of him learning from his teachers, and of himself teaching his dear students several years ago. He would bequeath those vials as a part of his last will and testament. That was his backup plan, but he needed to get started with the actual teaching soon enough.

There was some hope as the newfangled vigilantes had given a decisive blow to Tom. But he could not bring himself to trust them. Anyone who wore masks had something to hide. Unless he knew who exactly they were, and what their motives were, he would be keeping them at a hand's breadth.

For now, he would try to establish a connection and cooperate with them a little. As long as they were fighting Tom, they were tentative allies. He would tell his people to be careful though. They were willing to use the killing curse and that was a major point of concern. Despite their competency, they were brutal, and it would not bode well to drop their guards around them.

Especially the young man that had managed to repeatedly harm Tom. Such skill and proficiency were not something he had seen in many wizards for quite a while. He wondered if the man was a foreigner with a vendetta against Tom, or if he had some other reason for fighting.

The door to the infirmary opened and a haggard Remus, Arthur, and young William walked in.

"Where are the rest?" he asked, fearing the worst.

"Diggle is in St Mungo's. The moron overextended himself against Greyback and got mauled. Thank Merlin it was not a full moon, or he would have been inflicted. Jones tried to save the fool and took a crucio from a Death Eater," said a disgruntled William.

"Bill, be considerate," Arthur admonished his eldest son for his tone.

"No Arthur, he is right," interjected Remus. Despite his haggard state, his voice carried a sense of relief, "Even when not transformed, Greyback was extremely dangerous. Diggle put himself and Jones at risk due to his stunt. Albus, the Knights had the place rigged with traps. They took out most of the reinforcements. A few were captured and shipped off to the DMLE for interrogation. Once word gets out, the Knights will be hailed as heroes. They did take out the most notorious werewolf of the century. They also took out Bellatrix, and who knows how many other Death Eaters. Not to forget the fact that Voldemort was sent packing. Yeah, we have interesting times ahead."

"Remus, they killed them all. Surely such savagery would not be rewarded," groused Arthur.

So Greyback's demise was what had taken the load off Remus' shoulders. It provided them a valuable opportunity to rally the remaining werewolves to their side. He planned on talking to Remus about parlaying with the wolves once more. He wanted to comment something about the lethal measures, but as things were now, he needed to spend his efforts on arguments that were necessary. Speaking to the Order about it would be akin to beating a dead horse. He mulled over everything that was said and spoke again.

"Are Daedalus and Hestia under immediate danger?"

"I don't think so, Albus. The healer assured us that there were no major concerns and that they would recover," said Arthur.

"That is fortunate. What about Kingsley and Nymphadora?"

"They got orders to head back to the ministry. It seems like this whole thing was a joint covert operation between the DMLE and the Knights, so Bones is not pleased that Kingsley and Dora were interfering. I expect we will be getting summons to explain our presence once things settle down…" trialed off Remus.

"So they are calling themselves Knights? What else could you gather about them? Even if it seems useless, I want you to tell me," he said. He wanted to paint a mental picture of the organization. If they were under the leash of the Amelia Bones then things might not be as dire. He would not need to worry about them turning around and vying for power. But that did not mean that he would become complacent at once. He needed more information.

"They call themselves Knights of the Old Republic. We haven't exactly had the time to get a proper conversation going, but they did not seem hostile towards us... Not all of them at least. One of their members seemed to have a problem with us, I don't know why. It did seem, as a whole, that they were annoyed with us though," said young William. Albus nodded in understanding. He was already thinking about all the possible connections they might have, given that they named themselves as a part of a republic.

"After they routed off all the incoming interlopers, I had a brief chat with them. They all deferred to Owl, the one with the red markings on his helm. You know, the one who fought alongside you. Athena seemed to be the second in command, as she was the one who lead the team towards the newcomers while Owl was busy engaging You-Know-Who. As Bill said, Athena seemed to have an issue with us, but she seemed professional enough. Despite her palpable distaste, she did save us. We could have done without the tongue-lashing she gave us afterwards though," said a sheepish Arthur, "Apart from these two, we were in contact with Dryad and Vesta. None of them told us anything beyond their names. Other than these four, there seemed to be others in hiding, talking to them and guiding them from afar. I say this because they often stopped midway and switched directions to optimal ambush spots as if someone was telling them exactly where to go."

"Good job Arthur," Albus said as he mused on how it all tied together. Amelia Bones was saved by an unidentified individual. She must have gotten in touch with that person and gotten them to coordinate with her.

"If this was a joint DMLE operation, why were there no Aurors at the spot?" he asked after a few more seconds of rumination.

"That's the thing Albus," answered Minerva and all of them except Remus whirled around in surprise. He often forgot the sheer amount of time she had spent as a cat. Years of practice had made sure that she had managed to translate some of those skills to her human form as well. Such as moving silently and sneaking up on others. Normally, he would have noticed it. In his battered state, he had failed miserably.

"Dear Merlin," wheezed young William as Remus just snorted in amusement and titled his head towards Minerva.

"Minerva, glad you could join us. Was everything fine over here?" he asked.

"Yes, Albus, there was no disturbance in the school. As for the reason why you did not have any Aurors on the spot, it looked like the operation was grander in scale than we had thought."

"What do you mean?"

"While the Knights were ambushing V-Voldemort, several Auror teams raided multiple Death Eater hideouts. I got missives from the DMLE that certain students in Slytherin were to be watched carefully since some of the hideouts were their homes. It also looks like many a student would need to return home shortly to mourn dead parents. We are not to inform them at once, but once they finish inspecting the buildings, the children are allowed to return. It would be done by tomorrow noon, or so I was told…"

There was a stunned silence following her words. He reeled in shock at the sheer absurdity of it all. In one night, the Knights and the DMLE had managed to clip Tom's wings. Without his supporters, Tom's agenda would flounder. The man himself was extremely dangerous and would not stop at anything to conquer them all, but this would have slowed down his plans by several magnitudes.

"Oh dear," he muttered, wondering how this was even possible. He had known some of the information about their operations, but he had not acted on it, afraid that it would compromise Severus' cover.

Amelia Bones had proven herself to be extremely competent. Come morning, and the Knights and Amelia would be public heroes. With this maneuver, she had delivered a masterstroke in the war effort. He wondered if he should be spending time countering these raids personally. Surely, his time would be better spent expediting the hunt for the horcruxes.

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Rufus Scrimgeour could not contain his glee. He always knew that his old boss Amelia was a formidable witch, but she had proven once again that she was the most worthy candidate for being the head of the DMLE. Idiots like Fudge would have felt threatened that she was performing so well. He was not muddled by such idiocy. He was the Head Auror, he knew that wars could not be won without capable generals. No matter what anyone said, this was a war, and finally, at last, they were winning.

He had been unsure about how to proceed with tackling their problems. So he had given Amelia carte blanche on the war efforts while he spent the majority of his time politicking others into contributing to the cause. The old coots at the Wizengamot were dragging their heels and public support was low.

Initially, he was skeptical about her decision to hire mercenaries. No matter how competent they were, he did not know if they could be trusted. But she had been insistent, and he trusted her. Years working under her leadership had made it quite clear what sort of a woman Amelia was.

This dynamic was weird. She was supposed to be the new minister. But she had stuck to her post, prioritizing the war effort. He had instead become his boss' boss. Despite his new position, he still deferred to her in such matters, and it had proven to be the right choice.

Despite all his trust, he would need to meet the Knights of course. They had proven themselves to be exceptional and had rid Britain of Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback. That alone would have them eligible for the Order of Merlin medals. What he had not expected was for them to have someone with the capability of chasing away He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Their agreement stated that their identities would not be made public. But such rewards could not be given to anonymous recipients, so he would need to convince them to take them after the war maybe. He would be flayed alive by the public if he did not take steps to award such bravery. Common people would not care that they were hired to do it. Not to mention, Rufus himself was not comfortable letting the ministry take complete credit for what had happened.

They were paying the Knights a pittance as it was. To make the contract official, they had to be paid something at the very least. So, they were only being paid a nominal minimum amount. Amelia had wanted the usual exorbitant fee to be diverted to the DMLE instead.

Throughout his experience, he never knew of any mercenary outfits that were okay with being stiffed regarding matters of payment. Which only went to cement the fact that the Knights were not actual mercs. They were an independent organization that had a stake in the war. Might be vengeance, might be a sense of justice, he did not care. The mercenary contract was there in place to give them a legal reprieve for their actions during the war. It did not hurt that it put the ministry in a positive light for its decisive measures.

"Rufus, we have finished interrogating the prisoners that the Knight gave us. My teams took in a few prisoners as well, and we are getting started on them," Amelia said as she strode into his office. She placed a heavy folder on his desk.

"What have we got so far?'

"List of all the moles within the Ministry," she said with a vicious grin. He reciprocated in kind and even laughed a bit.

"Let's clean house then," he suggested.

"Yes. Before I get started on that, I will be going through the evidence my teams got from the Death Eater houses. I have a meeting with the Knights as well. We cannot allow anyone to question the legitimacy of this operation. To avoid public outcry, they would need to make a token appearance. Mainly because we need to shut up those who would question their motives. They can't simply hide since they decided to partner with us on this operation. But we need to shield their identities till the end of the war. Anonymity will protect them until Voldemort is gone for good," she said.

He snorted and said, "Well, I myself don't know who they are, so I guess their identities are safe for now. We'll get them to give a few statements to the press. I will take care of the rest. Don't worry about the political fallout. Do what you must. I will have your back, just like you took care of us when we were in the department."

"Thanks, Rufus. I'll get to work," she smiled and left his office in a hurry.

He sunk in his chair and took a long breath. He had a few difficult days ahead of him, but it was all worth it. They were winning, and that was enough for Rufus.

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OMAKE: What if Harry went all-in on the Star Wars theme?

(Instead of learning different spells and trying to do several things at once, what if Harry decided to spend his effort on replicating and mastering the feats of Force-Wielders?)

Fair bit of crack involved.

Non-Canon Omake, not meant to be taken seriously:

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Voldemort snarled in annoyance as the masked interloper gestured with his empty hand and swatted away yet another spell.

The vigilante's wand released a hissing noise and a red beam of light sprung from the wand tip. The red beam was close to a meter in length and exuded extreme heat that he could feel over the distance.

The fool brandished his wand like it was a sword and rushed towards him at inhuman speeds.

Voldemort did not relent and began sending over a barrage of spells at the masked man. With deft strokes of his saber, the man cleaved apart the spells sent his way and kept moving forward.

Tired of this charade, Voldemort sent a killing curse at his foe. The masked wizard leaped several meters up in the air. For a moment, it seemed like he was standing on thin air. He extended his left hand and bolts of lightning shot at Voldemort at an incredible speed.

As Voldemort evaded the lightning, the masked wizard was already on the ground, rushing at him with dashes that carried him onwards with uncanny swiftness.

"Avad-" Voldemort was interrupted mid spell as his neck felt constricted and all the air inside his windpipe got expelled.

He looked at his quarry and saw that the man had a hand extended in a gripping motion. He was within reach at last as Voldemort was lifted from the ground by the vice grip on his neck, choking due to the pressure.

He tried to ignore the strangling sensation and raised his wand to let loose an explosion that would kill the masked man for sure. Before he could do anything, the sword moved with an audible thrum of power and cleaved through his hand like a hot knife through butter.

The arm fell lifelessly on the ground, the wand still gripped in its fingers. He could not even scream in pain as he was suspended midair by his constricted throat.

As his vision began to darken, he felt an unbearable heat piercing his chest. The last words he heard were, "Looks like you choked on your aspirations, Tom."

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A.N: I just wanted this chapter to make it clear what a competent DMLE head can do without any shackles. In canon, Thicknesse took up the post, and he was just an imperiused puppet. Without sound leadership on this front, Rufus was also flopping around, trying to place more importance to public support. I just wanted her vast experience in the department pay dividends during the war. The Knights did the heavy lifting, but her Auror teams hadn't been idle at all. There is a reason Voldemort himself went to kill her in canon.

Speaking of Voldemort, I hope you liked the surprise gifts he got right after a debilitating fight. I hope you liked the omake as well. It was just a bit of whimsical crack.

There has been an update in my discord situation, so you might want to take a peek at the auxiliary chapter for more details about where to reach out to me, or fellow readers of this fic through discord.