Deep within the forest a hundred meters away, Fiendfyre still raged. Though its intensity had diminished following Thunderbird's disappearance, it remained a violent, surging force. Due to the unique nature of the dark arts used to conjure it, the fire had transformed into dozens of different exotic beasts that rampaged through the timber.
The situation required immediate intervention. If the Fiendfyre were allowed to spread further, the consequences would be catastrophic. Fortunately, no Muggles were active in the vicinity; had there been casualties from such a magical accident, the Ministry of Magic would have faced a monumental crisis.
Amelia and Bianca watched the spreading flames with deepening frowns. At the current rate, relying solely on standard counter-spells might not even match the speed of the fire's expansion.
"Mr. Scamander, we may have to trouble you again regarding this Fiendfyre," Amelia said, leaning toward Newt. She knew that when it came to cursed flames, this old gentleman possessed methods far more effective than their own.
"Gladly. The destruction caused by that Silver Spear is truly astonishing. I haven't seen such a spectacle in many years. It is fortunate that, so far, no one has been seriously injured," Newt replied.
Newt and Tina had been occupied at home under the protection of an Auror team. When this major incident broke out, Scrimgeour, who was overseeing their security, received the news immediately. Learning of the large-scale smuggling of magical creatures, Newt—a Magizoologist with a deep love for nature and a long-standing grievance against the Silver Spears—insisted on joining the fray.
The group had traveled via the Floo Network and Apparition to the initial bust site. While the younger Aurors took to their brooms to reach the destination, Newt, Tina, and the two Directors opted to Apparate directly to the coordinates. It was by chance that they intercepted Alan halfway through his desperate flight.
Newt produced a metal kettle, an item Alan recognized from his previous visit to the Scamander residence. "It is quite a coincidence. Dealing with Fiendfyre happens to be a particular specialty of mine. Professor Dumbledore gave this to me specifically because blue Fiendfyre once left me with quite a few psychological scars," Newt muttered as he unscrewed the lid. He offered a dry laugh to the others. "My apologies; old men do tend to ramble."
As he finished speaking, a massive stream of clear water erupted from the kettle, shooting into the sky like a geyser. Given the volume of the spray, it was impossible to believe it originated from such a small container; powerful magic was clearly at work. As the water splashed down, it transformed into rows of transparent steeds that galloped toward the inferno.
To Alan, the scene initially looked like an ant rushing toward a bonfire. He couldn't imagine how this small amount of water could combat Fiendfyre. However, just as he expected the streams to vanish like moths to a flame, the effect proved miraculous.
When the water steeds collided with the fire beasts, a powerful magical pulse bloomed. The Fiendfyre was extinguished instantly upon contact with the clear spring. It didn't look like wood being doused with water; it looked like someone had simply flicked a switch. The cursed flames vanished completely, as if they had been deprived of oxygen.
Alan's eyes widened. The liquid in Newt's kettle seemed to be a specialized bane for Fiendfyre. Had he possessed such an item earlier, his fight against Thunderbird would have been far simpler.
The group followed Newt, sweeping through the woods and extinguishing every pocket of fire along a path spanning several kilometers. It was a massive undertaking. Left unchecked, the flames had been pushing outward continuously. Fortunately, Alan's duel had been brief enough that the spread remained manageable. Without Newt's kettle, it would have taken the Ministry half a day to clear the area using counter-spells alone.
As they reached the heart of the forest, they encountered Moody arriving from the main battlefield. Once the Aurors at the smuggling site had received reinforcements, they had made quick work of the rampaging Inferi. While the main force handled fires in the other direction, Moody, worried about Alan, had taken to his broom to search for him.
Seeing Alan alive and among the other four wizards, Moody let out a long breath of relief and landed.
"Alan, thank heavens you're alright. That Thunderbird was truly something else. I didn't expect him to unleash such a terrifying spell," Moody said, his voice carrying a trace of lingering fear.
"He's not to be underestimated. I barely made it out," Alan replied with a slight smile, glad to see Moody unharmed. "How is it on your end? Those Inferi looked troublesome. Is everyone okay?"
"Haha, it's all thanks to the tactics you set up! We neutralized nearly half the smugglers in the opening seconds. Everyone is fine, and the goods were recovered. However, given the urgency, I didn't hold back. That Silver Spear didn't leave anyone alive to tell tales."
The operation had been a resounding success. Moody laughed heartily before looking around. "And what of Thunderbird? Did you take care of him?"
Alan shook his head helplessly. "He got away."
"What? With two Directors and the Scamanders as backup, he still escaped? Did you not use a jammer?" Moody was stunned. A wizard of that caliber remaining at large was a recipe for future disaster.
"My apologies," Amelia interjected awkwardly. "The man had a Portkey on him. I didn't expect that; I thought the jammer would be enough to secure him."
"A Portkey? Those have been out of circulation for ages," Moody's expression turned grim. "If he just happened to have one, that's one thing. But if they have the means to manufacture them, we have a real problem on our hands."
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