Amelia observed Alex closely, noting how, despite his exhaustion and injuries, his first concern was still for others. Her respect for him grew. "You should rest here for now," she said firmly. "Barnabas and I will take care of the flames. If we don't get them under control soon, they'll become a much bigger problem."
Barnabas, standing beside her, nodded. "The longer they burn, the more unstable they become. And with Fiendfyre, we can't afford to take chances."
Even with Thunderbird gone, the remnants of his Blue Fiendfyre still raged through the forest, devouring everything in its path. Though the flames had weakened slightly without his control, they remained dangerously active, flickering hungrily as they consumed the landscape.
And worse, some of the flames had begun to take shape.
Twisted beasts, formed entirely from fire, prowled through the trees.
Their bodies, composed of searing blue flames, moved unnaturally, some resembling great wolves, others serpentine dragons, each one a living embodiment of destruction.
If left unchecked, the consequences would be disastrous.
There were no Muggles in the immediate area, thankfully, but if the fire spread unchecked, it could trigger a magical disaster of catastrophic proportions.
Amelia and Barnabas frowned as they analyzed the situation. Simply casting Finite Incantatem over and over wouldn't be enough. The Fiendfyre was spreading too quickly.
Amelia turned to Newt. "Mr. Scamander, we're going to need your expertise on this."
Newt, who had been calmly assessing the fire, hummed in thought. His expression remained neutral, but there was a keen glint in his eyes, one of deep familiarity. "Yes… it's been quite some time since I've seen Fiendfyre like this," he murmured. "Quite an impressive display of destruction, I must say. Though, given who we're dealing with, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
Newt had been roped into this incident almost immediately after it began.
As one of the world's foremost magizoologists, he had long despised the Silver Wands for their involvement in illegal magical creature trafficking. So, the moment he learned of their large-scale smuggling operation, he had joined the Auror team to help. His expertise, and his old grudge against the Silver Wands, made this personal.
Barnabas crossed his arms. "You sound oddly calm for someone looking at cursed flames rampaging through the forest."
Newt smiled, though there was an unmistakable sharpness behind it. "Oh, I'm quite familiar with this," he admitted, pulling out a metal flask from inside his coat. Alex recognized it immediately, he had seen it at Scamander's house before.
Newt continued, tone light but meaningful. "In fact, I believe I still have a few unresolved nightmares thanks to an old encounter with Blue Fiendfyre." He sighed. "Dumbledore gave me this for just such an occasion."
With that, he unscrewed the flask.
The moment the lid came off, a torrent of water erupted into the air, not a mere stream, but a massive wave, gushing forth like a geyser.
The sheer volume of it was impossible for the flask's size, revealing that powerful magic was at play.
As soon as the water took shape, it transformed. Galloping through the air, transparent horses emerged from the waves, their spectral bodies shimmering like living rivers.
They did not hesitate. With a surge of magic, the water-horses charged into the flames.
At first, it seemed like an impossible fight, like sending mere droplets into an inferno. But then, something astonishing happened. The moment the spectral horses clashed with the fiery beasts, a pulse of magic erupted, cutting through the cursed flames instantly.
The Fiendfyre didn't burn out like normal fire being doused with water.
Instead, it vanished, snuffed out completely, as though someone had turned off a gas burner.
Alex's eyes widened in disbelief. Newt's enchanted water wasn't just effective, it was the perfect counter to Fiendfyre. 'If I had that earlier…'
He couldn't help but think how different the battle with Thunderbird might have gone if he had access to this strange liquid. With it, he could have crushed Thunderbird's biggest advantage.
Shaking off his thoughts, Alex joined the others in systematically extinguishing the remaining flames.
The process was grueling. Even without Thunderbird fueling the fire, the cursed flames had already spread several kilometers, tearing through the forest. Had the battle gone on longer, they might have lost control completely. But with Newt leading the charge, dousing the flames with his enchanted water, the tide was turned.
If it had been left solely to the Ministry wizards, using standard counter-curses, the process would have taken hours, possibly an entire day. But with Newt's method, the fire was brought under control much faster.
By the time they reached the edge of the battlefield, their work was nearly complete. And that was when they ran into Moody.
The battle at the smuggling site had wrapped up. The Ghouls that had been unleashed were quickly disposed of once the Auror reinforcements arrived. The smugglers, caught off guard by Alex's earlier ambush tactics, had been slaughtered before they could regroup.
With the battlefield secured, Moody had flown ahead on his broom, anxious to check on Alex's condition.
The moment he saw Alex, alive and in one piece, he let out a relieved breath and landed beside him. "Bloody hell, Alex. Thank God you're alright," Moody said gruffly. His magical eye whirled in its socket, scanning him for injuries. "That 'Thunderbird', his strength was far beyond what I expected. I've never seen someone wield Fiendfyre like that."
Alex exhaled, giving him a tired smile. "Yeah… I barely made it out. If reinforcements had come even a few minutes later, I wouldn't be standing here."
Moody let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "You've got guts, I'll give you that." Then, his expression turned serious. "What about him? Did you take him down?"
Alex's smile faded. He sighed, rubbing his temple. "…He got away."
Moody's eye snapped to Amelia, then to Barnabas, then to the Scamanders. "What? With this much backup, he still escaped?! You had him cornered! What happened to the Anti-Apparition Jammers?"
Amelia's lips pressed into a thin line. "We thought we had him contained," she admitted. "We didn't expect him to have a Portkey."
Moody's expression darkened. "A Portkey?"
Barnabas nodded grimly. "We had no way of stopping it in time. He activated it and was gone before we could interfere."
Moody muttered a curse under his breath. "That's bad. Really bad."
Portkeys had been heavily regulated for decades. Ever since the International Statute of Secrecy had been tightened, the Ministry had cracked down on unauthorized Portkey production.
In theory, only the Ministry of Magic had the knowledge and resources to create them. Yet Thunderbird had one in his possession.
Moody's jaw clenched. "It's one thing if he got his hands on a single Portkey by luck. But if the Silver Wands has the ability to make them, "
", Then we have a much bigger problem," Amelia finished grimly.
Amelia continued, "if the Silver Wands has access to Portus, this is far more dangerous than we thought."
Alex blinked. "Portus?"