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Peter, with a bemused expression, turned to Dumbledore, a condescending cadence in his voice. "Is this where you're getting your confidence from? Him?" Peter pointed casually at Grindelwald, who glared back with evident disdain. The aged Dark Lord, seemingly treated as an expendable pawn, didn't appreciate being overlooked.
Infuriated by Peter's dismissive gesture, Grindelwald wasted no time, launching spells in rapid succession. However, Peter, in a dazzling display of force, effortlessly slapped away each incoming spell with his bare hands. The sheer ease with which he deflected the magical onslaught left Grindelwald frozen in shock, his arrogance momentarily shattered.
Recovering from the initial surprise, Grindelwald turned to Dumbledore, a hint of respect in his voice. "You were right about his strength, Albus. We might not stand a chance even if we combine our efforts." His realization echoed the doubt he initially harbored when Dumbledore sought his assistance. Now, faced with the undeniable truth of Peter's power, Grindelwald admitted that their chances were slim.
Albus, his confidence waning, nodded gravely. The reality of Peter's overwhelming strength sank in, even for the revered wizard who had witnessed it multiple times already. "We'll have to work together if we want any hope of standing against him," Albus stated with a somber tone, acknowledging the dire situation.
He had hoped that Gellert would stand a chance against Peter, as even Albus couldn’t beat his old friend in a head to head battle.
Even all those years ago, when Albus returned to Britain after ‘killing’ the Dark Lord Grindelwald, he didn’t dare face Gellert head on. Instead, he pretended to join his friend’s side before attacking king him in his sleep. But instead of killing him, as the world was told, Albus locked Gellert up, unable to do the dirty work of killing the man he had tricked and betrayed.
The uneasy alliance formed between Dumbledore and Grindelwald marked a rare collaboration born out of necessity. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air as they faced the daunting prospect of confronting Peter, a surmountable obstacle that made them feel small in comparison.
…
Outside the bank, the chaos continued as the remnants of the magical army struggled against the fortified defenses. The lethal wards proved relentless, leaving no room for the intruders to gain a foothold. Blood flowed down the stairs leading up to the entrance and streamed down the streets of Diagon Alley.
Soon enough, the remaining army, which was now less than half of their original numbers, were far too scared to go anywhere near the bank. Instead, they stood at a distance, mentally scarred from what they’ve witnessed and covered in the blood of their comrades.
Some of them even ran off, unwilling to be anywhere near this cursed place anymore, choosing their lives over the greed that spurred them to come here in the first place.
…
Back in the grand hall, MJ finished off the last of the committee members before walking back to Peter, her hands covered in blood. “I’m done, do you want help with them? I wouldn’t mind fighting Dumbledore…” She said, her hostility toward the Headmaster flaring at full force.
“Nah, I can handle it. You can go and get cleaned up. I’ll be there once I’m done with them.” Peter says as MJ nods and walks off, leaving him behind with Albus and Gellert, who let out sighs of relief.
After all, they already had their hands full with Peter. If MJ joined in, then they really wouldn’t stand a chance.
Reading their thoughts, Peter couldn’t help but laugh. "You two can team up all you want," he remarked with a smirk, "but it won't change the outcome. I hope you've prepared yourself for disappointment… and death, of course."
Albus and Gellert, seeing no other option, launched a coordinated attack on Peter, their spells colliding in a chaotic symphony of colors. Yet, Peter effortlessly dodged each magical assault with an unhurried pace, instilling a growing sense of dread in the two wizards. His calm demeanor and seemingly inexhaustible agility painted a bleak picture for their chances.
Pitiless, Peter closed the distance, leaving Albus and Gellert with nowhere to escape. With a burst of speed, he disappeared and reappeared behind Gellert, his hand slashing downward.
Gellert, sensing the imminent danger, managed to evade the fatal strike, but not without consequence. Peter's swift attack severed Gellert's arm, leaving it to fall to the ground in a grotesque display.
Gellert screamed in agony, blood squirting from the fresh wound, as Albus watched in shock. The once formidable dark wizard now writhed in pain, an unexpected turn of events neither had foreseen. Peter's dominance was clear, reducing the supposed masters of magic to mere mortals.
Apologizing mockingly for the pain he caused, Peter stepped away from the splatter of blood near him. "I was going for a clean kill, but you moved. Next time, stay still if you don’t want to feel unnecessary pain…" he remarked casually, his tone adding insult to injury. The casualness with which he treated the situation only intensified the fear in Albus and Gellert.
With a chilling calmness, Peter approached Gellert once more, “Here, I’ll put you out of your misery... Just hold still for a second.”
Albus, desperate to prevent the impending doom, screamed, “Stop! Please don’t-“ Ignoring the plea, Peter raised his hand again, the air crackling with an impending sense of finality.
Albus, unwilling to stand by and do nothing, hurled spells at Peter in a frantic attempt to halt the execution, but each incantation missed its mark. With effortless grace, Peter sidestepped the magical onslaught, his focus unwavering. The inevitability of Gellert's demise hung in the air, and Albus could only watch in horror as Peter's hand slashed down with ruthless precision.
Gellert's head separated from his body, the gruesome sound echoing through the grand hall. The decapitated head clattered to the floor, a dark testament to the one-sided nature of the confrontation. Albus, now all alone, screamed Gellert's name in anguish, his world unraveling before him.
The silence that followed was broken only by Albus's anguished cries, and the once formidable duo found themselves humbled by the unexpected force that had befallen them. Peter stood amidst the aftermath, an ominous figure untouched and in pristine condition, a stark contrast to his bloody and gruesome surroundings.
Albus stood amidst the aftermath of Gellert's demise, a cold realization settling in. Regret clawed at him, the weight of his choices sinking like a stone in his chest. His pursuit of power, wealth, and justice, fueled by a misguided sense of morality, had led to the death of his oldest friend and countless others.
Peter, observing the dead look in Albus's eyes, shook his head in disappointment. "I warned you, old man. I told you they would all die. You may not want to believe it, but this is all on you," he declared, hitting the aged wizard right where it hurts. “You wanted what wasn’t yours and brought all of them here, thinking that you could beat me with this failure of a Dark Lord-”
With a casual kick, Peter rolled Gellerts severed head over to Albus, which stopped in the perfect position to look right up at him, a shocked and fearful look etched in his dead face.
“Was it worth it?” Peter questioned, as Albus stared down at his friends decapitated head in horror. “All for some gold that you probably wouldn’t even spend, or maybe because you didn’t like me? Either way, they’re all dead now. So… was it worth it?”
The realization of the devastating outcome infuriated Albus to the point where he could barely think straight, let alone answer Peter’s taunting question. Without a word, he hastily pulled out his wand. Unleashing a barrage of spells, some dark and forbidden, Albus sought to unleash all the power he could muster.
“Die!” In his desperation, he aimed to take Peter down with him, determined to fight until the bitter end.
However, Peter remained unaffected by the onslaught. Calmly, he walked toward Albus, casually slapping away the spells as they came. Forbidden spells or not, they were all the same to him.
With each step, Albus's resolve wavered, and he began to yield ground, cowering under the unstoppable force approaching him. Eventually, he found himself cornered, his back against a wall.
Standing face to face, Peter effortlessly snatched Albus's wand from his trembling hand and snapped it in half, discarding the broken pieces over his shoulder. Albus, defeated and humiliated, fell onto his backside, staring up at Peter with a mixture of fear and resignation.
Peter, devoid of any empathy, asked, “Do you have any last words?”
Albus, looking up defiantly, pushing his fear aside for a moment as he declared, “I regret nothing in my life besides the moment that I met you!”
“That’s probably how most of my enemies feel before they die…” With a nonchalant shrug, Peter swiped his hand once more, severing Albus's head from his body in the same manner as his friend. The gruesome spectacle unfolded, blood spraying as Albus's lifeless form crumpled to the ground.
In the end, Peter stood in the blood stained and corpse riddled lobby, still without a single drop of blood on his body or clothes. Outside, the army had already run off, leaving behind nothing but the remains of their comrades.
On a timer, the doors to the bank snapped shut, sealing the place for the night as Peter looked around at the mess that was left behind. “I’m not cleaning this…”
A/N: 1601 words :) Okay, my bad. I was wrong. The next chapter is when they will leave. The Boys is next!