Bursting out of the treeline, Derek looked around the open space for any sign of the Wizard or the Beta. But a quick, cursory glance showed that they were nowhere in sight. With that knowledge, Derek then turned to look at the edge, picking up the sight of a struggle on the ground and then nothing.
Moving forwards cautiously, he looked over the edge and grimaced as he saw the two bodies laid out on the ground far below. Blood was seeping over the rocks and waves of water crashed down over them.
They were stuck in a small crevice therefore their bodies were never brought out to see. But they were pushed and pulled by the waves.
It was not a pretty sight.
"Is he alive?" Peter asked, stepping out into the opening, followed soon by the remainder of their Betas, six in total. Two had been killed in the fighting, one down on the rocks below while the other two were in various states of injury.
Derek didn't answer straight away, studying the bodies further and he picked up the sight of movement from the Wizard. His one, unbroken arm reaching out and grasping hold of a rock and pulling himself up. The wave of water that crashed into his back helped to carry him up and into a more secure area, but it proved he was alive, albeit barely.
"He's dead, they both are," Derek replied, making sure to keep his voice calm and steady as he did. Turning back, he walked straight past Peter and back towards the base. Peter simply just shaking his head in amusement at his nephew and following after him.
'Now with that Wizard taken care of, I can start focusing on the conquest of Britain. Should be simple and easy? They're a backward people and they're more than likely to do what they did in the previous war; stick their head in the sand. Beating them will be easy.' Peter thought with a smirk.
And when Britain fell, Europe would follow and just like dominos, the rest of the world fall into place. Werewolves would no longer be oppressed or hide due to the discrimination of Wizards and Witches. They would be the rulers of the world.
-X- Line Break -X-
Everywhere hurt.
The pain burned through his body at even the slightest of movement. Even the simple act of breathing, of inhaling and exhaling was excruciating. This was a pain he hadn't experienced before, not even Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse was as painful as this.
And with every wave that struck his body, his broken bones were jerked and broken further. His body carried back till he smashed into the wall rock behind him, then dragged towards the rock in front of him. Each time his body struck the rock his pain exploded throughout his body and he could feel his mind go blank.
'I'm going to blackout.' He realised, watching as his vision began to darken around the edges. 'No! I can't, not yet! Have to stay awake! Got to ignore the pain!'
Even as his vision was darkening, Harry focused on his mind, Occlumency shields clamping down all over, but Harry made sure to clamp down hard entirely on the feeling of pain. He crushed it, smothered it, and ensured that he could not feel even an ounce for it. And slowly, piece by piece, his body became numb to the pain.
It took him a good few moments to do that and once he did, his vision beginning to clear. The feeling of pain going away and unconsciousness disappearing along with it.
Shakily, he raised his one good arm, arm heavy like lead and shaking madly with a strain that he could not feel. But he continued to force his arm up, reaching up to grab hold a ledge and pulled. It was difficult, almost impossible to even lift his arm and now he tried desperately to pull himself up over the ledge and out of this crevice he found himself. It was a little higher up and it would provide him with a little more safely, helping him avoid the possibility of drowning in that crevice.
But that proved more difficult than he could imagine.
Thanks to Occlumency he couldn't feel the pain his broken body was in. Yet he could still feel how tense his body was, more specifically his left arm as he tried to pull himself up. Even just the grip on his fingers had on the ledge was all but impossible to keep hold of, let alone trying to pull himself up.
It was then that a wave of water crashed into his back and momentarily his shields faltered, and pain exploded throughout his body. Once more, Harry ruthlessly crushed that feeling with his shields and the water surged up, carrying Harry up onto the ledge and he laid there.
Breath short and heavy due to that single momentary flash of pain.
'Fuck, I can't die here.' But as he said that Harry's vision darkened once more. Even with his shields in place, he could not escape the damage his body was undergoing, and it was starting to shut down.
No matter how much he fought to stay awake, Harry couldn't stop it.
-X- Line Break -X-
When Gareth Greengrass had received a letter in the early mornings of the hour he had been surprised. While an Unspeakable, his seniority and position as one of the main sources of funding for the organisation gave him a little more leeway than others.
It was not uncommon for Gareth to spend weeks at home, dealing with the political business that came with being head of the Greengrass family and spending time with his family. Then he would spend a long stint of time in the Department of Mysteries doing his research. Luckily for him, his area of research allowed him to take long periods away and come back with a fresh mind. To look at it differently than before.
He had been sat down at home with his two daughters, Daphne, and Astoria, enjoying breakfast together when the letter had arrived, requesting his immediate return to the Department of Mysteries.
Gareth knew that it had been incredibly important when Croaker himself, stressed that his presence was needed specifically.
And so, it had been with a heavy heart that he had left his young daughters and made his way to the Department of Mysteries. He didn't want to, especially not while mourning the death of his wife during the Second Blood War, but he hadn't had much in the way of choice.
When he arrived in the Department of Mysteries, Gareth was instantly directed to the medical centre and there, laying on an operating table, was Harry Potter. The young man had been a mess, with dozens of broken bones, ruptured muscles, and even internal bleeding. To say his survival was a miracle was an understatement.
However, Gareth was one of the most gifted medical Wizards in the Department of Mysteries and had researched heavily in the medical field. Even looking at Muggle methods and trying to incorporate magic in the process. It was not as fantastical or as amazing as the research performed by other Unspeakables, but it had certainly saved Harry's life and worked well in helping the lives of many around the country.
Already, Kingsley was introducing numerous methods, potions, rituals and spells into hospitals and the training of Healers. It was something Fudge, and his successor had refused to do, influenced, or directly controlled by Purebloods.
Sighing heavily, Gareth reached one hand up and wiped his brow, his gloves and medical overalls covered in the blood of his patient. Harry had fought hard to stay alive, and Gareth had worked hard to ensure that he did, but it had been a close call on many occasions. Yet, he had succeeded, and Harry was in a stable condition.
"How long until he will be combat ready?" Croaker asked as he walked into the medical centre.
Gareth looked at him, almost conveying his disbelief at the lack of care Croaker possessed about Harry's condition. "He's stable, for now. The fact he survived long enough for you to find him and bring him here alone is a miracle. The fact that he survived the operation is even more so. But he is in no condition to move out of this room for days, let alone enter the field in anything less than two weeks."
"That's too short."
"That is the best I can do." Gareth exasperatedly cried out. "If I was to administer anything other than supplementary healing spells and potions, we don't know what kind of long-term or short-term problems that would have on him."
Croaker said nothing, turning away from Harry to look at Gareth, silently demanding answers.
"We've already had to alter normal potions to better suit Harry due to the constitution of his blood," Gareth said, indicating to the Phoenix Tears and Basilisk Venom. "Now I'm finding traces of Lycanthropy within his blood as well. That is a powerful mixture right there and we don't know what giving potions of any kind could do to him. You could kill him without even realising it. You asked me here for a reason, let me do my job."
Croaker didn't reply straight away. "Lycanthropy? I wasn't aware he was bitten or that there was a Full Moon?"
"There wasn't. No Full Moon and no bite just scratches."
"So, no Full Moon and no bites yet still a passage of the Lycanthropy virus. Interesting, very interesting." Croaker muttered.
"Did you not hear I word I just said?" Gareth asked.
"I heard you." Croaker replied. "However, I cannot afford to have my only Field Agent out of action when I have two hundred elite Werewolves plus an Alpha arriving in an unknown timeframe. They could be arriving tomorrow for all I know, and I cannot access mister Potters' memories or his mind because he shut his mind down."
It was a common tactic employed by many Field Agents and those skilled in Occlumency when the body was undergoing extreme periods of pain and torture. All it required was simply shutting down the mind to the point they almost seemed to be in a coma.
"So, I don't have the luxury of waiting. How long until he can be made combat-ready."
"Without taking any risks, two weeks and I will assure you that he will in perfect condition. There will be no complications or the possibility of long-term effects." Gareth answered.
"And with risks?"
"With calculated risks?" Gareth's face twisted showing his displeasure. "A week, but like I've said it- "
"-Get it done, you have one week." Croaker interrupted, shutting Gareth's argument down before he could continue. "Think of your daughters, Gareth. Mister Potter and the Auror department is the only thing between them and the Werewolves." What Croaker did not need to say was that the Auror department was in a serious mess at this moment in time.
Kingsley had laid off my corrupt Aurors as his first act, cutting his force down by almost two thirds. While he had nearly five times that number in recruits from those whose miscellaneous and useless departments in the Ministry had been shut down, it was still an incredibly underequipped and undermanned force.
Saying no more on the matter, Croaker turned on his heel and walked away, Gareth watching him with a frown.