"..."
"Damn."
The worst-case scenario.
Cold sweat flowed down the man’s forehead, watching the crimson giant wave surging towards them, he and those around him almost instinctively raised their magic wands. A pale white light curtain instantly ford, though it wobbled under the pressure of the dragon fla, it barely held on.
"Who the hell are you?"
He didn’t have ti to pick up the deep purple top hat that had fallen to the ground in his panic. He shouted, trying to make the figure already sitting cross-legged on the dragon’s head speak.
But things rarely go as wished; his response was not human voices but another wave of scorching flas following closely.
"Fall back—"
He instinctively shouted, not needing to explain further, his subordinates adjusted their positions instantaneously. Their wands pointed remotely at the fire dragon flapping its wings in the sky—could a dozen adult wizards really not handle a juvenile fire dragon?
Or rather, how could they be attempting this risky mission without the capability to handle a dragon?
But, the man hesitated—through the gap between magic and flas, he fixated on the silhouette in the sky, hesitating because they weren’t rely facing a lone fire dragon, but soone capable of sitting atop a dragon’s head...
He was uncertain, especially—his gaze moved past the pit in front, looking across...
...
"...Uh, it seems they’re fighting?"
Tonks’ tone was sowhat unsure. She shook her head, her dark brown hair turning to a bright green.
"I’m not blind." John simply shook his head, watching that silhouette with curiosity in his voice, "Who is that?"
"No idea, but according to the information gathered beforehand, there isn’t a Dragon Tar of that level in the Starry Sky Circus..." Kingsley shook his head; perhaps there isn’t even such a tar in the entire UK... no, all of Europe. Proud fire dragons wouldn’t just let soone ride them.
"So, it could be an Imperio Curse. While fire dragons have high resistance to Dark Arts, so wizards might possess extraordinary abilities..." Kingsley continued, then added a reminder as if worried, "Hence, we should avoid provoking him, tonight is Christmas Eve, reinforcents are..."
He didn’t finish the sentence, but everyone present understood, everyone was on holiday, leaving them as the only Auror team working overti.
Thus, Kingsley’s aning was clear: retreat imdiately, leaving the unclear identities on both sides to fight each other.
"No..." John Proudfoot shook his head, his gaze still locked on the fire dragon soaring through the night sky, "The dragon has already revealed itself, do you really think no Muggle would see it?"
"But..."
"This is Edinburgh, perhaps not as populous as London, but witnesses will surely be plentiful—even the fallout from that flying car hasn’t yet settled, and now there’s a fire dragon..." The man couldn’t help but rub his brow but quickly made a decision, "Move in, capture them, we need so achievents to redeem ourselves."
Speaking, he glanced down at the pit below his feet, "Tonks, you and Williamson investigate the circus’ internal situation—"
"Eh?"
The green-haired woman, eager to wield her wand, cried out disappointedly.
"This is also a task that can lead to promotion."
Upon hearing the man’s words, a smile finally appeared on the woman’s face—promotion was, of course, the key, as for what task?
That was irrelevant.
...
"Tch..."
Looking at the reassembled Auror team opposite, the man clicked his tongue in irritation. The fire dragon continued to circle in the air, diving up and down, continually spewing fire at the "turtle shell" they held up, while the figure remained sitting, evidently intending to wear them down.
...Looks like escape isn’t possible?
Though there’s no death penalty in the British Ministry of Magic, he couldn’t wait idly—kissing a Dentor French-style would be... sothing for the next life.
"Take action—"
Without much hesitation, seeing the Aurors still approaching, he seized the dragon’s rising mont and wielded his magic wand vigorously. Several deep red magic chains shot toward the sky, their coordination so seamless it seed they had rehearsed countless tis, successfully shackling the dragon’s limbs and head in one move.
The restrained fire dragon instinctively attempted to struggle, but the next mont, red chains appeared on its wings too, depriving it of flight capability.
"Quick!"
The man didn’t even have ti to show joy, swiftly striding towards where the dragon was about to fall. Black fur grew from his body, and in the blink of an eye, he transford into a giant jet-black bear, nearly half the size of the dragon.
"Squeak!"
"Animagus... these poachers are as exaggerated as ever."
Watching the scene, Williamson couldn’t help but grin, knowing that in the twentieth century, there were only seven "registered Animagus" in the Ministry of Magic; perhaps there were many unregistered ones, but he seriously doubted that the legitimate ones combined even amounted to a fraction of these poacher Animagus numbers.
This wasn’t exaggeration, as during his raids on poachers in the Forbidden Forest, almost every third camp would have one or two Animagus, their numbers as if wholesale.
Moreover, the animals they transford into were almost always fierce carnivores, with body sizes exaggerated compared to ordinary animals... leading him to suspect these poachers may have a thod to transform regular people into special Armanigus, though he had yet to trace their steps.
After all, this group is an international organization, spanning Europe, Arica, Asia, Africa... almost wherever there are Magical Creatures, these sticky plasters appear.
Watching the giant black bear charging towards him, Williamson wasn’t worried; he didn’t even draw his wand—gently tapping on the dragon’s head beneath him, the chains entangling it broke on cue, and it imdiately flapped its wings, flying back into the sky.
"Squeak!"
"Alright alright, go on." Looking at the noisy Niffler by his ear, Williamson nodded helplessly and grabbed the Niffler’s tail, tossing it down from the air—
"Go, Pika... no, go, Kabuda, activate super transformation!"
"Squeak!"
Landing on the ground, the Niffler, as large as the fire dragon, stirred up dust that made the black bear instinctively halt his charge.
Does this an, for goodness sake, that it’s a Niffler?
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