Phoenix Hawk Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Never mine. I'm not that lucky. I write in the sandboxes because it's fun!

TRIGGER WARNING: This is a fight scene, treat yourselves appropriately. While I don't go into detail on any injuries (yet), they do happen.

The House Elf Ril popped into the tent that had been used to house all the artifacts found on the dig. There was very little for her to do, other than double check for missing pieces and loose bits of paper before she placed a couple of the transporting disks on the boxeds. The disks needed Harry's magic to work, so Ril used a specially carved piece of stone that had been charged as a battery. The materials would reappear in Harry's Scottish home.

An enraged bellow from the tent's entrance surprised her. Ril spun around and saw an angry wizard shoving his way through the canvas. The swarthy, heavy set man freed his wand and shouted, "Incendio!"

The burst of orange light arched over Ril's head, heating the tips of her ears before landing on the table and lighting it on fire. Ril squealed in fright, drawing the man's attention to her. He fired another spell, causing a trio of deep cuts to bloom across her body.

Ril shrieked and disappeared, leaving the man at the dig site, screaming out his frustration.

The other elves were quick to remove the archaeologists, getting them to safety. The jet's crew made the scientists welcome and got them settled aboard the plane. Jetta, one of Harry's shyer elves, had brought Donna Vinatieri without a problem, but when she went back to get the last scientist, he dragged his feet, endangering them both.

Praeter Hansen wasn't a coward. Or so he believed. He was a hothead though. The sounds of spellfire drew him to the entrance of his tent. Three wizards arrowed over the camp on brooms, firing random spells as they made multiple passes. Tents burst into flame, and the cook tent exploded. Praeter drew his wand and prepared to engage when the soft, squeaky voice of a House Elf stopped him.

"Please sir, Master Harrys wants scientists safe. Come with Jetta," the elf nervously whispered, rolling her hands together.

"No," Praeter said, making to move forward.

Jetta popped out in front of the tent, and saw the destruction going on around her, with Harry leveling his own "artillery" at the invaders.

One broom flyer got a lucky shot and aimed for the one remaining, undamaged tent. Jetta saw the bald headed man swooping in for a shot, and made the decision for Praeter, grabbing him by the pant leg and popping them both out. They reappeared in the cabin of a luxury jet, and Jetta let him go to help Winky heal Ril.

Praeter however, was angry at being denied his fight, and shouted at the diminutive creature, "You worthless, bat eared beast! What gives you the right?" He brandished his wand in her direction, an action that caught the attention of Winky. She looked up, furious at the interruption and at the nerve of this idiot wizard.

Having come a very long way since that fateful World Cup and her dismissal from the Crouch family, Winky had learned, mostly from Harry, that no one should be worth more or less than another. While she served Harry with devotion and love, Winky never again took any abuse from any wizard or witch, and refused to let any of her family suffer either.

She saw this puffed up wizard, who had been saved by one of her own, angry at having been saved. It was beyond enough. Winky lifted her right hand, and twitched two fingers.

The resulting magic grabbed hold of Praeter in a body bind, flung him into a chair that immediately reclined to hold him comfortably, and then knocked him unconscious.

Jetta gasped in surprise that Winky had to take such drastic measures. "Winky, what will Master say?" she squeaked at the older elf.

"He be asking if it were necessary. Now, help me with Ril!" Winky answered stonily. The younger elf leaped to obey, and they had Ril set to rights just as Harry appeared on the plane, his arms full of Hermione Granger.

Back at camp

Concurrent to the elves getting everyone out of the camp, Hermione side apparated Harry into the center of her tent. They materialized in a smoke filled chamber, causing Hermione a brief moment of panic. Harry used a cutting curse to drop a wall of canvas then an air freshener charm to drag the foul air out.

"Hermione, pack what you can, and leave it for the elves. I need you to back me up against these wizards," Harry commanded. She nodded jerkily, not quite back to herself. Harry stared at her for a moment, and she blinked, awareness bright in her eyes. "Go Hermione," his voice softened for just a moment. She likely hadn't seen any kind of fighting since the war, much less had to deal with her home, albeit a temporary one, being on fire.

Harry looked out of the tent to assess where each invader was. It was hard to see anything, the smoke from the burning tents obscured much of his field of vision. He heard Hermione whispering the spells to start her things packing, and when she was done, gestured for her to join him.

"All right, we'll need to get out into the open area between tents. Slow is not necessary, but quiet is. Muffliato," he cast at their feet. She did not notice then, or later, that he wasn't using a wand until they stepped out into the open.

Wands out, they moved away from her tent and into the cloud cover from the fires. Harry cast the bubblehead charm on them both, creating a recycling pressure of fresh air for them to breathe. Then triggering his Mage Sight, he was able to see the auras of anyone else remaining in the camp. He caught sight of 5 moving auras, determining they weren't elves.

"Hermione," he whispered, "There's 5 people out there, and they could be friend or foe. Can you cast a wide spread stunner while I conjure ropes?" He didn't want to over power the stunning spell in the heat of the moment. It would kill if he wasn't careful.

"I think I can," she replied just as quietly, readying the spell.

"Fire when ready," Harry prompted, holding his wand loosely in a duelist's grip.

Hermione spoke the command of the spell, "Stupefy", which sent a pale red jet of light racing across the smoky clearing. A bright yellow beam immediately arched back across the field, followed by a trio of orange beams. One of the beams struck Hermione, a lucky blind shot. She cried out, half spun around by the kinetic force of the spell before collapsing to the ground.

Harry shouted, a wordless tone of surprise and anger, then flung himself into battle. He called for an elf as he cast several air clearing charms to dispel the smoke. Once he had enough visibility, Harry cast several wide dispersal spells, mostly stunning and binding spells, that easily took out the opposition as though they were untrained wizards.

He didn't see Ril peeping from the sole standing structure in camp as he fought. Nor did he catch sight of the lone figure hovering over the camp site astride a broom. That man scowled, angry at having underestimated the abilities of any guards that he'd been told about. After seeing all of his men captured, the broom flier turned a sharp circle and left the scene, abandoning them to the tender mercies of the Russian Wizarding Police.

Harry straightened from the dueling stance he'd adopted to cast his strings of spells, barely breathing hard. Yuku had responded to his call to help Hermione, who was still supine on the grass, bleeding from many small cuts. The elf was trying to heal them, but none were responding to her magic.

"Master Harry!" she called, anxious. Harry turned and jogged back to the pair. "Cants heal her, Master. Spell is wicked bad," she looked up at Harry, fear at having failed shining in her overlarge eyes, and drooping ears.

"It's all right, Yuku. We'll get her back to the jet, and everything will be okay," Harry told her. "Go back to the tent, and help Dibby pack it out. Be back at the jet in 10 minutes." Yuku nodded and popped away, leaving Harry to kneel down and see to Hermione.

She'd stayed quiet, attempting to avoid gaining the attention of anyone still out for their blood, but Harry could tell she was in pain simply from her glazed over eyes and shallow breathing.

"Hermione, it's over," Harry said quietly. He ran a diagnostic charm over her to determine the extent of the damage. "I need to get you to my plane, I don't have the right healing potions out here. Apparating will be uncomfortable, even downright painful. As soon as we arrive, you'll get a pain relieving potion, all right? So hang on while we apparate," he explained, levering her barely responsive body into his arms.

Hermione managed a nod of acceptance, bracing herself for the squeeze of apparition.

(In case it's unclear, the scene of Harry's battle takes place at the same time as Jetta rescuing Praeter.)