June 3rd, 2018.
"All four of us going on the same raid would be complete overkill." Dora was saying as she peered at the large world map that had various photographs and notes pinned to it. "Any one of us could probably take one of these by ourselves."
Harry frowned, but nodded all the same. He was reluctant to have them split up because then he would not be there with them if something went wrong, but there was no denying that it would be a waste of resources to have all of them go to the same place.
"Luna shouldn't go anyhwere by herself at least." He said.
"Agreed." Both Fleur and Dora said in unison. All of them felt quite protective of their youngest lover.
Luna merely blinked, offering no protest. She knew that she wasn't aggressive enough to go alone and would in fact prefer to play a defensive support role in any fighting.
Of course, 'alone' in this case meant 'away from the others' as opposed to actually alone. The local Aurors and the Raven Host would still be present regardless.
"Is Etal coming with us?" She asked instead.
"Unless he shows up soon, I think we can assume he won't." Harry replied wryly. The quetzalcoatl had been AWOL for weeks now. Nothing unusual about that, as he had a tendency to go where the wind took him for a while before coming back to Spellhaven to laze about until the next time he got struck with wanderlust.
"Alright, so who wants which?" Dora asked, bringing the conversation back on track.
"I'll take Dolohov in Romania." Harry said.
"Spain should be nice this time of year." Fleur said with a smirk.
"Luna and I will take the one in Poland then."
Harry nodded in acknowledgement even though he would feel more comfortable keeping the girls close. They were powerful witches and didn't need coddling. He would still insist on them going together if not for the necessity of making a simultaneous strike to take maximum advantage of the initiative.
"Now we just need to divide up the Raven Host among the other locations…" That was fortunately not a problem. Even though they numbered only nine at this point, Dora assured him that they were better combat trained and equipped than Aurors. That would make sense, as their training was focused exclusively on combat.
June 4th, 2018. Spellhaven, Potter Cháteau.
The Raven Host was an odd group. Three male werewolves and one female, two veela and three wizards. All of them fighters by inclination, geared up in expensive dragon hide armor and looking ready to do some damage.
They might be few in number, but they were skilled. Certainly far more skilled than Voldemort's horde of thugs. Harry was sure that they would be more than equal to the task of fighting any Death Eaters as long as they weren't severely outnumbered.
He just hoped that the local Aurors didn't give them any crap. Ideally, either he or one of the girls would be there with them to lend an extra touch of authority, but they couldn't be everywhere at once.
He was just about to start handing out portkeys to the designated locations when an unwelcome interruption occured.
"Harry, could I talk to you before you go?" Narcissa hesitantly asked from the doorway.
Harry took one look at her and resisted the urge to sigh. Pale face, trembling voice, wavering expression, wringing hands… the blonde witch was barely holding it together and he had a good idea as to the cause.
"I'll be back in a second." He said to the group, getting nods from the Raven Host and knowing looks from his girls.
They were barely out of the room when Narcissa threw her arms around him and buried her face in his basilisk hide covered chest.
"I'm sorry, Cissy." Harry said as he returned the desperate hug. And he was sorry, for her grief if not for her idiot offspring.
The Kinfinder spell used with Narcissa's blood was how they had gotten the location in Italy. The spell had given out inconclusive answers for some time, indicating anti-scrying magics, but now Draco had left those protections and returned to Italy. He wasn't doing anything obviously nefarious, but he'd long since learned from the prisoners taken at Malfoy Manor who they had to thank for Voldemort's resurrection.
Draco fucking Malfoy and the surprise addition of an old…'aquintance', the assassin from the second task of the Tri-Wizard tournament. Seeing that man's face in his captives' memories had been an unwelcome surprise. Adrastia could probably tell him a thing or two about the assassin, but he hadn't asked because the woman would have no doubt made him pay for it in some way.
He could probably buy her loyalty, or at least make it unpalatable for her to betray him, with the Elixir of Life, but that was a damn big secret to be sharing with someone like Adrastia.
"I know I can't protect my son from the choices he makes anymore." The blonde witch began tremulously. "And I know that he chose to make himself your enemy, but…" She had to pause to take a deep breath before she could continue, and even then it was in a broken whisper. "But I'd like to at least talk to him one more time. Please."
Harry resisted the urge to curse the name of Draco Malfoy. Why did that idiot have to be such an idiot?
"They're supposed to capture him anyway, but I'll tell them again." He said with a sigh. He'd already been planning to kill the little blond idiot quickly after he was done interrogating him, solely for Narcissa's sake. He could agree to this much, even if he thought it a bad idea.
"Thank you." She said, squeezing tighter for a moment before letting go and giving him a watery smile.
Harry resisted the urge to let out another sigh. What a stupid situation, and all because Draco was too proud to let things go, just like his father.
Romania.
Antonin Dolohov had been honored by the trust and faith implied in being given the mission to seek out potential Death Eaters in Romania. That didn't make it any less boring however and he'd been itching for a good fight or even a raid on some filthy muggles.
That was why he'd been almost happy when the house he was living in was attacked. Finally, some excitement.
Even seeing Potter of all people stalk towards him didn't manage to put a dent in his enthusiasm. Dolohov had always had a rather high opinion of his own skills. Admittedly not without reason, as he was one of Voldemort's strongest fighters and had defeated powerful wizards such as Gideon and Fabian Prewett in the past.
But it quickly became clear to him that he was not going to be winning this one. Potter's powerful magic lent him a dread presence akin to the Dark Lord himself, his defensive spells were as solid as a mountain and his offensive ones fearsome strong.
The would-be Death Eaters that had been with him had already been defeated by what looked like Aurors, but he couldn't help them. He couldn't even help himself.
"What's wrong, Dolohov?" His young opponent asked mockingly. "Why do I hear your strength failing? Has your courage deserted you already? Fight! Cling to life! The only path to your survival lies beyond my corpse."
Dolohov's features twisted in anger at the realisation that he was being toyed with. With a vicious slash of his wand, he let loose with one of his favorite spells, a lash of purple fire that attacked the internal organs. He followed it up immediately by banishing a heavy couch at his opponent.
Potter dismissed the purple flame with an almost negligent wave of his hand and swept aside the heavy projectile as if it was no more dangerous than a beach ball, something that was heavily disputed by the way the house shuddered as the couch hit the wall.
But Dolohov hadn't really expected to get a hit in with those two attacks. No, they were distractions so that he'd have time to cast a silent Killing Curse.
The green beam of death flew towards his enemy…
… and missed as Potter avoided it by simply leaning sideways, as if he'd known exactly what was coming and where it was going.
Dolohov barely got a shield up in time to defend against the retaliatory attack. It was a simple bludgening hex, it should have been easily blocked, but there was so much force behind it that the veteran Death Eater felt his will buckle under the strain.
Only a handful of spells from Potter and he was already on the edge of magical exhaustion. No wonder the Dark Lord had cautioned them not to fight him alone.
He had no time to bring up another shield before a whip of crackling lightning wrapped itself around him, stinging against his skin.
"You fail." Potter declared, a grim smile on his scarred face.
A surge of power went through the whip and Dolohov lost consciousness via electrocution.
Harry looked at his captive thoughtfully. He had used Dolohov to test his prowess against someone that was genuinely trying to kill him instead of the harmless spars with his girls.
It was good to know that he had passed beyond the level where even adept wizards were a threat in direct combat, but the journey wasn't over. It would never be over.
Later that evening. Spellhaven.
Unfortunately, Harry's success in capturing Dolohov proved to be the exception rather than the rule. Aside from him, only Fleur had succeeded in capturing her target, all the other raids had failed, their targets fled before they even arrived.
"The ministries are compromised." Harry said with a scowl. "It's the only way they could have been warned that we were coming."
This was why he hated dealing with governments.
"But how?" Dora asked in frustration. "They had less than a day of warning and we only told the heads of the DMLE."
"They might have a Fudge problem." Luna suggested idly.
"Luna's probably on to something." Harry sighed in defeat. "If any of their ministers of magic are half as stupid as and greedy as Fudge, it would have been easy to arrange. Not to mention that they're probably still sulking about Spellhaven muscling in on their profits."
"Don't forget that they weren't very cooperative either." Fleur added.
That was unfortunately also true. The local Aurors had been downright cliché in their reactions to outsiders.
"So what are we going to do now?" Dora asked.
"I don't know." Harry's scowl returned, deeper and harsher. "If we keep playing by the rules we might find ourselves walking into an ambush one day, but if we don't and get caught the ICW will get pissy."
That fantasy of walking into the ICW council chamber and casting Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting while it was in use was sounding more and more appealing.
Wouldn't do anything except brand him a threat to the entire magical world, but it sure would be satisfying.
"Maybe we could do both?" The metamorphmagus suggested. "Do secret raids on the more important targets and only announce the ones that don't matter if we fail?"
"I think we might have to." Harry sighed. What a pain….
When Voldemort heard that his nemesis had struck again, he had mixed feelings on the matter. On the one hand, Potter had yet again somehow managed to sniff out his servants even though they were taking painstaking care to keep a low profile. On the other, the bribes, threats and promises given to the local authorities had been enough to warn them ahead of time in three of five cases.
Either way, the Dark Lord knew that he would need to retaliate soon, or else have his minions think him weak.
Fortunately, he had been intending to strike soon either way. Potter's birthday would be the best time. He might even interrupt another orgy.