Chapter 79.3 Death Eaters

But not everything is that easy, and I had to persuade the children to leave for a minute, and when they did, I sent another spirit to protect them. It won't do much, but you have to know how to fight a ghost, there are special techniques that are not well known to the general public.

They had to walk more carefully, which slowed their pace. I was not in danger of stepping on something or stumbling in the darkness, but it was easy to stumble over a lurking talent. The next few minutes brought me a discovery in the form of several wounded, unconscious wizards.

I didn't bother to find out what kind of wounds they had, I just covered them with seals, brought them to their senses and sent them towards the portals. Rare voices and screams could be heard from several directions, and the smell of smoke and fire filled my nostrils. Pacing among the burned-out tents, now reduced to charred wood, I decided to head for a particularly noisy group of attackers — their cheerful shouts, along with human cries of pain, made for a clear target.

A few more minutes of walking under the incessant noise of joy and pain, and I saw my target from the shadow of a half-burned tent. Seven gifted men in hooded robes were having fun tying up a group of people of varying ages. Some were just tied up and watching, three were unconscious with disfigured faces and bloody clothes. Off to the side, a woman in her forties was holding a young girl.

I didn't immediately realize what was scratching my eye, so I watched closely while one of the masked men hurled a few little curses at the fat man lying on the ground, not particularly dangerous, just unpleasant and painful.

The disheveled clothes of the woman and the girl could be explained by the situation, but the fact that the woman's face was bruised and tearful, but she was trying to calm the quietly screaming girl, gave me a bad idea.

Lips are silently reciting a special spell that I can watch through binoculars. I look again, and this time I manage to see that both of them are torn, and the girl's legs have traces of blood on them...

***

A merry, noisy party turned into a Grimm fairy tale: in all their glory and cruelty, the Death Eaters returned from oblivion, fiercely confirming their fame as vicious and cruel monsters without a shred of compassion or morality. Panic gripped the fan camp, and many were unable to escape, simply because such an emergency evacuation had not been foreseen by the organizers. Cries of pain and pleading could be heard throughout the camp, and this group of trapped people had little hope.

When studying at Hogwarts, many people did not think about the future — as long as they passed their exams. In the current situation, the ability to talk nonsense while looking at coffee grounds or to make a pineapple dance is absolutely useless, especially when years have passed since graduation.

The fat man, Rubeus Stonk, howling with humiliation and pain, thought only of redemption, and was ready to lick the shoes of the cackling crowd as long as it was over quickly. Camilla Watson, holding the poor girl in her arms, saw in the strange girl her daughter, whom she had sent to her mother's house in the fishing village.

She herself was hurt and disgusted, but she was a grown woman who had already buried her husband, but to be robbed of her innocence by a bunch of scoundrels was probably the cruelest thing that could happen to a girl. Oh, how she would have wanted revenge! Not for herself — for Gloria, who was crying at her breast! Those things deserved the worst end! What a pity they would get away with it....

The woman blinked, the next moment seeing a male silhouette behind one of the masked men. The man in the cloak smoothly turned the long, thin blade he held in his outstretched hand. Suddenly, there was a sharp swing and a scattering of dark drops came from the strip of steel.

Part of his robe fell away, revealing a glimpse of his insides, spilling out of a wound that spanned his entire abdomen and side. Blue intestinal worms climbed out of the bleeding cut. The bastard howled eerily, trying to keep parts of himself from falling into the dirt, but frankly failing.

Everyone watched the scene in shock, and the stranger turned smoothly, holding his long blade in his right hand, slightly off to the side. One of the masked men standing closer raised his staff and even tried to shout something. Steel glittered with maddening speed, severing the wanded hand, and with a second swing, stripping the enemy of his other hand as well.

Screaming terribly, the masked man fell to his knees, twitching his stumps desperately, not knowing how to help himself. At that moment, the stranger's face came into the light, but Camille saw nothing of what she expected — just a frozen mask devoid of emotion.

At that moment, some of the masked men came to their senses and attacked the young man, but in the path of the curse beams flashed a strange construction of strips of paper with glowing blue symbols, assembled into three concentric circles of shields.

The hysterical screams of the masked men sent out more curses, but the unfamiliar shield did not waver. Here, the swordsman raises his hand toward the trio of wizards in black. Around his open palm, familiar strips of what looked like paper rose up, gathered into a "ladder," flashed, and blue lightning struck the masked men.

The pungent smell of rain and a flash of bright electric light spread through the neighborhood. Three writhing bodies fell to the ground, residual discharges still skittering across them, it was obvious they weren't fighters. The shield in the air shifted abruptly without the help of a rescuer, taking more hits from the remnants of these 'merrymakers'.