Chapter 15:Growing Threats

The occasional flash of light lit the wood as spells were fired at the young boy running for his life through the unforgiving darkness. Occasional shouts echoed through the woods as a dozen adults slowly homed in on the fleeing boy, hunting him down with practiced efficiency.

"It's veered to the left!" A shout echoed and the boy sobbed with fear as he stumbled through a bush that scratched his legs. A figure suddenly seemed to unfold out of nowhere in less than a heartbeat, its hand holding a glowing stick that somehow radiated danger and the boy tripped, rolling frantically as the ground exploded where he had been an instant before.

"Almost got it!"

The boy felt something inside him, then the world defocused and fell away from him.

.

Abathanor Grimsditch growled as he looked round for the abomination masquerading as a human. As a straight-line male descendant of one of the Original Twelve, Abathanor had been raised on the stories of Auror Robert Grimsditch and, like his father, his grandfather and every male of his line, he had joined the Aurors as soon as he was able to, earning the rank of Valedictorian due to his family archives and the many spells and techniques contained therein.

Unfortunately, none of those spells and techniques had been created with the threat of an Obscurial in mind as his grandfather had been dealing with a plot by the Sasquatches to launch another rebellion when the Scamander Event had occurred.

It was known, though, that killing the human form of the Obscurial also killed the magical beast puppeting it, something that Abanathor was more than willing to…

A flash of red light hit him and he collapsed to the ground, having failed to notice the rat that had crept out behind him and turned into a wizard.

The wizard looked down at Abanathor's unconscious form, then it reverted back into a rat and scurried away just as the treetops waved with the passage of an invisible force moving away from him, an invisible force which was suddenly impacted by a second one.

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TerrorFearAttackEnemiesFleeHurt

SafetyRefuge

ConfusionFearRetreatFlee

FriendshipKnowledgeControl

CuriosityHatredFriendshipUnknown

KnowledgeTransformationTechniqueFriendshipRefuge

SafetyQuery

Confirmation

TruthQuery

Confirmation

.

The boy seemed to slowly reform from a whirling mass of immaterial strands, then another boy materialized using the same technique, but in a far less chaotic manner.

"Hello, brother." the older boy smiled. "I know a place where you can be safe and people who will help you learn how to use your power to become strong, to never need fear again."

"…who…?"

"My birth name doesn't matter, I took a new one, as you can too. I am James Kirk."

Before the boy could reply, a spell flashed between them and Kirk seemed to explode into a writhing cloud which moved with purpose. The witch who had fired the spell didn't even have time to scream before an almost-invisible tentacle wrapped round her arms and contracted, breaking every bone below the elbow before throwing her into a tree and knocking her out, her body landing bonelessly near that of the wizard that Pettigrew had stunned. A split-second later, Kirk had reformed and he smiled at the boy staring at him in awe.

"Come with me if you want to live."

The younger boy nodded, then both boys transformed into writhing masses of magical energy which darted away, shattering trees in their wake, including one which slowly toppled towards the helpless wizard and witch.

.

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"Well?"

The five wizards and three witches sat around the parchment-covered table looked up as the speaker entered the room, then one of the wizards stood up and bowed.

"Madam Umbridge, welcome back. I'm sorry to say this, but we haven't made as much progress as we hoped. Whoever Potter has working for him, they seem to have an encyclopedic knowledge of all the Laws that the Wizengamot has ever passed."

Dolores frowned. "All of them?"

"Yes, Undersecretary. It came as quite a surprise to us as well. Even the Secret Laws of 1721 were complied with."

"What about the regulations?" Dolores pressed. "Surely he couldn't have complied with all of them as well?"

"Not as such." One of the witches offered. "The main regulations, the ones that all the businesses follow, are complied with, but the secondary regulations…"

"Potter is technically a Halfblood." The first wizard interjected. "There's an old regulation, one that was initiated during the first war against You-Know-Who which states that any Halfblood who wishes to set up a business can only do so if an equal share is held by a Pureblood of equal or greater wealth. Since Pureblood businesses were generally ignored, the regulation was intended to protect all the other businesses from Death Eater raids and after You-Know-Who died, the regulation was assumed to have been revoked, but it wasn't and can be applied. Since Potter is currently the wealthiest wizard in Britain, there's no Pureblood available who can fill that role."

"Which means?" Umbridge asked, her expression almost predatorial.

"Which means that the business can be removed from him in its entirety and given to a Pureblood." The wizard explained.

"Excellent!"

The wizard winced. "Um, there may be a problem, however."

Umbridge frowned at him. "Problem? What problem?"

"Legally, there is no bar to us seizing his business, although there might be some bad publicity involved." The wizard shrugged. "However… his business and all the records pertaining to it are stored at The Pottery, something which is both perfectly legal and highly problematic for us."

Umbridge raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"The Pottery has pro-active Wards, a sixty-foot-long guardian Basilisk and windows that absorb spellfire to make the Wards stronger." The wizard noted. "It's quite possible that the Wards themselves are capable of absorbing magic too. Gaining access to The Pottery in order to claim Evans Enterprises could be… problematic."

Umbridge frowned, then slowly grinned like a shark.

"But we only really need access to Potter…"

.

.

"Ow."

The world slowly refocused around Abathanor Grimsditch and he found himself looking at a near-white ceiling, one that he recognised instantly.

"What happened? Why am I here? Did we get the Obscurial?"

"You were stunned and only barely saved from being squashed by a falling tree, you suffered stun-shock and no, it escaped." The Ward Matron said as she walked over, her wand already twitching as she cast spells to check his status.

"Who saved me from the tree?" Abanathor asked, then he chuckled. "Heh, that rhymed! I'm a po-ow!"

"That should do it." The Matron noted. "Apparently Auror Travis summoned you and Auror Willikins out from under the falling tree. Auror Willikins is still regrowing several of her bones."

"Biscuit saved us?" Abanathor breathed in near-shock. "Damn. Gonna have to change his nickname."

"I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that."

"Served him right for having that first name."Abanathor snickered. "Rich T… hmmm. Saver, as he's Rich. Could work."

"Nice to see you're concentrating on the important things." The Matron snarked.

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"Wow! You've got the newest Justice League comic?"

James nodded with a proud smirk as he walked towards the motorhome. "I have indeed."

"Does Omni-Man's son really join? I mean, he's shown up to help out before, but…"

"He does." James confirmed.

"Cool! He's the coolest hero ever! I always wanted to be him!"

"Why don't you?"

For a long moment, the question didn't seem to register, then the younger boy looked up, eyes wide.

"Really? I can?"

"What can he?" Gellert asked from the door and James grinned at his elderly mentor.

"Uncle Gellert, meet Mark Grayson. Mark, this is Gellert Grindlewald, one of the four Wizards who've dedicated themselves to helping those like us."

"Nice to meet you." The newly-renamed Mark said shyly and Gellert gave him a paternal smile.

"It is a great honor to meet you and may I be the first to welcome you to your new life."

"Come on." James motioned as Gellert stepped aside. "Let's get you settled in and then we can see about getting you the things you need such as new clothes and a toothbrush."

"And a towel." Gellert chuckled. "You should always know where your towel is."

"He keeps throwing references like that." James explained with a shrug as the confused kid stared in incomprehension. "You get used to it. Come on, you've gotta see the rooms, they're like the Tardis! bigger on the inside!"

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"A Rat Animagus… are you certain of this?"

"I am, ma'am." Auror Travis replied as he stood to attention in front of Chief Auror Dawnfeld's desk. "I didn't get much of a look at his face before he changed, but he transformed into a common rat. I couldn't track him after that."

"A rat Animagus…" Dawnfeld mused. "A rat Animagus… I wonder…"

"Ma'am?"

Dawnfeld ignored him as she rummaged through one of the desk drawers, then she pulled out a Wanted poster stamped with the sigil of the British Ministry of Magic.

"Could this have been him?"

Travis leaned closer and examined the poster before looking up.

"I can't say for certain, ma'am, but it certainly looks like the wizard in question."

"Peter Pettigrew." Dawnfeld almost spat. "Which means that we have Gellert Grindlewald in America again. Dammit!"

Travis watched wide-eyed as the Chief Auror picked up the phone and started to bark orders into it.

"I want Alabama closed off! If anyone uses a Portkey or makes an Apparition jump, I want to know about it! Double the Watchers and crank the sensors up to maximum! Yes, I'm serious! Do it!"

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Albus looked up from the latest missives from the International Confederation of Wizards as Alistair Moody stumped in, glowering more than usual.

"Albus, we got trouble." He snapped. "One of my contacts just sent me a message, they got a positive ID on Pettigrew."

"Splendid." Albus noted as he returned the sheet of parchment to the folder it had come from. "Where was he?"

"Outside Birmingham."

"He's in England?"

Moody shook his head. "Birmingham, Alabama. The bastard's in America."

"What?" Albus shook his head in confusion. "America? What would he be doing there?"

"My contact used a word I didn't recognise." Moody grumbled. "Albus, what's an Obscurial?"

Albus felt the blood leave his face as the word registered. "Obscurial… oh no… no…"

"Albus?"

For a long moment, Albus simply stared at his old friend, then he sighed.

"Alistair, do you remember Arianne?"

"Your sister?" Moody asked. "Vaguely… she didn't go out much… died young. Only met her once. Why?"

"She was an Obscurial." Albus lowered his head into his hands. "Aberforth and I did the best we could to keep her safe. Had the Ministry ever found out… at best, she would have been executed. At worst… who knows what the Department of Mysteries would have done to her."

Alastair silently lowered himself into the chair opposite Albus and waited.

"Because of what those boys did to her when she was young, she denied her own magic and… it changed. It changed her. She'd have these… these episodes where her magic would lash out. Abeforth and I… it was all we could do to simply restrain her at those times.

"When Gellert and I met, he was kind to her, but he knew about her being an Obscurial. He never suggested anything and even helped to shield her, but…

"If Pettigrew is in America, so is Gellert and if they're after Obscurials…"

"How bad is it?" Moody demanded.

"My old friend, if Gellert has found a way to harness the power of even a sngle Obscurial… he would be able to defeat the entire Order of the Phoenix in single combat!"

Moody paled.

"What do we do?"

"What else can we do, my friend? We must contact MACUSA and offer our assistance. Let us pray that they accept."

"You think they won't?"

Albus raised his head and met Alistair's gaze.

"The American Congress does not like having outsiders on its territory, Alistair. They put up with tourists and the occasional immigrant, providing that they are wealthy, but they do not appreciate people trying to move in on what they see as their own turf. We can offer, but I doubt that they will accept… not unless the situation proves to be more than they can deal with… and even then, their pride may prove impossible for them to overcome."

"So… what do we do?" Alistair demanded after several long moments.

"Apart from set up interception points to catch and question anyone leaving America… I don't know, my friend."