At 10:58am, Voldemort appeared on stage facing a crowd of magical citizens (forcefully) gathered there. He called out to the crowd in triumph. "Citizens of the British Wizarding World! Before you, five traitors. Filth! Those who oppose me will suffer their fate. You have been warned!" he yelled out. The time – 11:00am.
At 11:00am time stopped for Evan Fenix, also known as Harry Potter. He found himself in a darkened chamber. Immediately he reached out with Haragei to evaluate his environment. Evan could sense the presence of five beings around him. He did not sense any malice from them, only curiosity. He stood and waited. Eventually, a voice rang out – "You have called us here, young warrior. You have called us to judge you, your magic and those who wronged you. You have made a blood sacrifice. We have seen your history. We have seen your pain. We have seen your justice. What is it you are asking of us?" said the voice. "I only ask to return that which was taken from me." Evan replied. "Taken from you, young warrior? Your magic, your blood, your parents, your childhood? We cannot return your parents or your childhood. And if we do take back what has been taken, should we not take from you, what yourself have taken from others?" asked another voice. "What have I taken from others?" asked Evan. "Lives. You have taken lives. You have robbed the children of the people you have killed, of their parents and of the childhood they could have had with their parents." At that, Evan felt true remorse, the faces of the Death Eaters he had killed, even if he had killed them in self-defense, passed before his minds-eye. Then he saw the faces of their children – the ones he had met at Hogwarts. Once again, he felt remorse. Evan knew what it was like to grow up an orphan, and he had made many of them orphans. "I am willing to accept your justice for those things you feel I have done wrong." He said with a heavy heart. "The price might be higher than you are willing to give" said one of the voices. Evan gave that remark some serious thought. What were some of the most precious things he could lose? His life – a loss he could accept as a soldier; His magic? He had nearly given it up exiting the wizarding world. With that, he said "My decision still stands." "So be it" he heard before he collapsed in extreme pain.
As Voldemort raised his wand, a green glow emanating from its tip, he was suddenly engulfed by a whirlwind of magic. That was, apparently the signal: one by one Voldemort's lieutenants fell.
At 11:00am, 18 Royal Dragons appeared in the Ministry of Magic: six in the atrium near the fireplaces; six in the Auror office; six near the Minister's office. They arrived weapons loaded and drawn. The wizards had their wands drawn and at ready. Upon arrival, one member in each group yelled out "By the Decree of Her Majesty, the Queen of England, the Magna Carta is dissolved. This Ministry is now under the control of Her Majesty's forces!" as they scanned the faces of those around them. For the last six months they had been training themselves to recognize Voldemort's inner circle in particular, and outer circle, by sight. Any wizard that raised their wands was immediately put down, either by wand or by 7.62mm rounds. Similar stories unfolded in Hogsmead, Hogwarts, and St. Mungo's.
At 11:05am, Master Sergeant McCormic was standing on the stage where Voldemort had previously stood, facing the crowd. He briefly glanced down at the grossly decayed hand and bone fragments on the ground next to him, then read loudly the Queen's proclamation. Sergeant Bremmer was untying the hands of those who, until minutes before, were slated for execution. The former prisoners still had not recovered from their shock at seeing the demise of Voldemort and his lieutenants when Sergeant Bremmer looked at them and said in a most disarming voice, "Miss Hermione Granger sends her greetings." If they thought their jaws could not drop further, they were very, very wrong.
At 11:05am, Ragnock and his entourage of advisors climbed up off the floor. They had prepared. They did! Ragnock chuckled – They had misjudged their young friend yet again. At the end of the ritual chanting, they saw Harry Potter collapse. Before they could enter the chamber, a bright light and magic exploded from him, passing through the walls, knocking them over, despite all the protections. Amazingly, nothing was destroyed and nobody was hurt – the boy must have a lot more control over his magic.
At 11:15am, Evan woke up in pain. Everything was dark; everything hurt. He felt a bed under him. "How do you feel, Evan" he heard Hermione ask. Evan tilted his head toward Hermione, then reached up to touch his eyes. He didn't feel any bandages. He felt his eyes, but didn't feel any pain. He felt his eyelids open. "Hermione? Why is it dark in the room?" Silence. "Hermione?" "You don't see anything?" she asked. "No. No. I…I can't see anything" he said, slightly hyperventilating. Dobby's voice said "Master Birdy must calm down and breathe". "Dobby! Thanks. Hey buddy. Where am I? What happened?" "You are in the Gringott's infirmary. You know, wizards could get the wrong impression if they knew that you ended up in the infirmary the last two times you've been here." He heard Griphook say. "After the ritual chant, you collapsed and then magic burst out from you…" Griphook began. "My magic! They said….they said my blood sacrifice would not be enough, that the price might be higher than I would want to give!" Evan said in an anguished voice. "Who said that, Evan?" Hermione asked. "The gods – I had called the elemental gods of earth, wind, fire and water. But there was a fifth one there as well. The gods said that if they were to judge Voldemort as I asked them, they must also judge me, for what I had taken." "What you had taken?" Hermione queried. "The lives I had taken. The childhoods I had taken from the children of the Death Eaters I had killed. The love and … and…. And relationships I had destroyed!" Evan replied with strangled voice. Hermione, Griphook and Dobby, who were standing around Evan's bed bowed their heads thoughtfully and sadly, as they saw Evan physically and emotionally close in. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, brushing away what….bristles of hair…Evan had on his forehead (she really missed his messy hair, she thought fondly).
The Goblin healers thoroughly checked Evan over, not finding anything medically wrong with him. Hermione guided him out into Diagon Alley to meet up with the rest of the Royal Dragons. "Master Sergeant McCormick!" she called out, letting Evan know who was waiting there for him. "Miss Granger. Lieutenant. Lieutenant, our mission here, while still in progress, appears to be a rout." He responded. "Thank you Master Sergeant" replied Evan. "Were there any casualties on our side?" he asked. "No sir. A few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise, none." "Does anyone require medical attention?" Evan asked. "Not among our troops. Some of the civilians however, do." "Make sure they get seen by the medics, then. Any who require hospital should be transferred after we get the all clear from them. Get a Sit Rep from Group B at the MOM, and from Group C at St. Mungos." Evan said. "Yes, sir" McCormic responded. "McCormick?" "Yes, sir". "I won't be able to command the cleanup at the other locations – my part didn't go quite as planned." "I don't quite understand, sir." McCormick replied. "I can't see, I'm blind." Evan responded. "It…..I….." he tried to continue. "What about your Hara-what-you-ma-call-it?" McCormick asked. "It's impaired right now. I don't know by how much, or if I will ever be able to recover it all, but I would be recklessly putting the troops in danger by trying to command them when I am blind. I'll be contacting Commander Black, to update him, but I am recommending you take point, Master Sergeant" Evan responded. "Yes, sir."
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