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0693 The Call
🕑 Added 2025-04-22 09:49:07 +0000 UTCAfter the explosion within the milky-white light screen truly occurred, a blinding crimson sun suddenly appeared in front of the disbelieving eyes of the Ministry of Magic's elite Aurors!
The remarkable light screen created by Bryan Watson's spellwork not only isolated the devastating explosion within its boundaries but also contained the agonizing, flesh-melting heat that radiated out in waves.
However, the Aurors, still standing in the unnaturally cool air outside the containment field, could see the fire waves surging madly within the screen like living responsive magma as one wave after another was desperately striking against the shimmering barrier with what appeared to be conscious malice.
The howling, shrieking sound of these fire waves reaching their ears resembled a dragon's earth-shaking roar making their hearts tremble with instinctive fear!
The crimson, blood-colored fire waves quickly transformed shifting to an intense pale white. The blinding radiance forced the Aurors, who had abruptly stopped in their cautious retreat, to instinctively shield their eyes with their palms to prevent permanent injury from the dazzling, otherworldly radiance that tried to burn through their eyelids.
After another excruciating dozen seconds of unrelenting brightness, the pale light underwent yet another metamorphosis.
The tremendous light and blistering heat produced by the violent explosion remained firmly bound within the boundaries of the light screen, unable to escape its magical prison.
The confined space, acting like a magical pressure cooker, raised the explosion's already formidable power to another level. Now, the compressed fireball had transformed into a mesmerizing azure blue color like that of the clearest summer sky, like a sapphire diamond coming to life, but every experienced Auror present could sense its apocalyptic destructive potential lurking just beneath the surface of that peaceful color.
The sweat accumulating at Kingsley's temples had almost formed a small, trickling stream down the side of his face. This wasn't due to any heat penetrating the barrier as indeed, the air around them still was eerily cool, but it was purely the cold sweat brought on by the bone-chilling shock of witnessing such power so barely avoided.
If Bryan Watson hadn't been present to contain the explosion's devastating power within his light screen, then within the magical barrier spanning several hundred feet, not to mention a single living person but even the rats and cockroaches hiding in the sewers beneath their feet would have been instantly incinerated into nothing!
The thought of such complete annihilation sent an involuntary shudder through his body.
Bryan, only ten feet away from the center of the explosion contained by the shining light screen, maintained his raised hand with steadiness. Apart from his disheveled hair and the edges of his coat tails dancing wildly in the fierce magical wind, his expression remained remarkably calm as he slightly tilted his head at a curious angle, carefully listening to the voice emanating from the phone pressed against his ear.
"—Oh, thank God, you finally decided to answer the phone, Fraser!"
On the other end of the crackling line came a somewhat familiar young female voice, pitched high with a mixture of relief and frustration.
Although her words technically expressed gratitude, it wasn't difficult even for the most socially oblivious listener to detect the barely contained, surging anger simmering just beneath the surface of the speaker's heart. She hadn't even paused long enough to realize that the man who had just casually said "hello" to her wasn't the Fraser she was desperately attempting to reach.
"Not coming home for Christmas for several years in a row," she continued, her words tumbling out in a torrent of pent-up emotion, "I've called you at least two hundred times—I counted them, Fraser! —and only this one single call miraculously got through. I don't understand—if you felt scared about something, why didn't you go to the police like a normal person?
Oh, and if you didn't want to answer my calls specifically, why didn't you at least answer Mom and Dad's calls either? Do you have any idea, that three days ago, Mom fell while walking alone on that icy path? She broke her leg and is still lying in that depressing hospital room. She just wants to see you, to see her son...!"
The girl on the other end of the phone shouted these last words with such furious intensity that Bryan instinctively moved the receiver slightly away from his ear, even as his attention remained focused on containing the blue fireball.
"Why aren't you saying anything?!" she demanded after a moment of silence, while her voice cracked with emotion.
"Hello, miss—" Bryan narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and responded calmly.
The phone line seemed to fall suddenly going completely silent, as if magically cut off mid-transmission. Just as Bryan was about to greet her again, perhaps to establish some understanding, the girl spoke once more. Her now calmer voice revealed vigilance and severity.
"Who are you? You're not Fraser... Are you one of those people who bewitched him?!"
Kingsley, watching intently from his position, saw Watson suddenly flick his wrist upward. Then, as if responding to an unspoken command, the blue fireball encased by the shimmering magical shield abruptly shot upward into the darkening sky with a brilliant, trailing tail of shining flames marking its trajectory.
Under everyone's gaze, the meteor-like fireball traced a perfect comet's path through the evening air, breaking through the upper boundary of the magical barrier with a sound like tearing silk, and plunged with tremendous velocity into the foul-smelling, pollution-darkened river in the distance.
A resonant, deep humming sound, like the strike of an enormous underwater bell reverberated through the ground beneath their feet—
A deep blue light swept across the entire riverbed in an instant, illuminating the dark depths. Then, within a range of nearly a mile in every direction, the river water began to boil violently, sending up massive plumes of white steam as if the entire body of water had been instantaneously brought to boil.
Fine white mist rose continuously from the churning surface, creating the impression of a gauzy curtain suddenly appearing over the river's surface. Kingsley and his colleagues stared in silent astonishment at this otherworldly scene, completely stunned, until the steadily flowing cold evening wind thoroughly cooled the superheated river water and gradually dissipated the steam curtain.
Only then did they slowly came back to their senses.
"—I'm in Cokeworth, yes, that's the place exactly," Bryan was saying into the phone, "My name—"
He paused in his speech, seeming to reconsider whether to reveal his identity to this unknown caller.
"Oh, when you see me in person, I'll tell you everything you need to know—" He corrected smoothly.
Beep—beep—beep—
The harsh, electronic sound of disconnection filled Bryan's ear. Kingsley, who had some simple understanding of Muggle communication technology from his occasional related work, immediately recognized that the person on the other end had abruptly terminated the conversation, presumably rushing to their location.
"Mr. Watson—" Kingsley said softly.
The scattered Aurors, still processing what they had witnessed, gathered around Bryan in a daze, their expressions a mixture of shock, relief, and deep respect. Kingsley moved his dry, cracked lips with effort and continued in a hoarse, uncharacteristically low voice, struggling to find suitable words.
Bryan's mind was somewhere else for a moment, pondering why the female voice on the phone had seemed oddly familiar to him. It was precisely this nagging sense of familiarity that had made him cautious not to reveal his full name or directly inquire about hers.
Kingsley's call finally penetrated his ponderings, bringing him back to reality. Bryan turned his gaze toward Kingsley and the visibly sweat-drenched Aurors surrounding him, and gave them a reassuring smile.
"No one was injured in the explosion, right?"
"No—" Kingsley responded softly, still clearly shaken by their near-miss with annihilation.
"All thanks entirely to your intervention," He continued as his deep voice now regained some of its usual authority. "Otherwise, the Auror Office would have been completely decimated in a single stroke. We probably wouldn't even have had the slightest chance to apparate the wounded to St. Mungo's for emergency treatment."
"Don't say such things, Kingsley—" Bryan's expression softened into something gentler, almost sympathetic.
"You followed my strategic suggestion in organizing this operation, so I bear the responsibility to help you avoid these unforeseen risks. Ah... of course, as you can see," He gestured toward the destroyed house, "we've unfortunately done all this preparation in vain—"
"What exactly happened here, Mr. Watson?" Remembering the recent catastrophic explosion that had nearly taken all their lives, Kingsley still felt a lingering pang of fear coursing through his veins and couldn't restrain himself from seeking answers.
"Oh, it's quite obvious when you consider the sequence of events, isn't it—" Bryan turned thoughtfully to look at what remained of the house, now reduced to little more than scattered rubble and broken, cracked walls after being swept by the magically-generated fierce wind.
"Our carefully planned operation was anticipated from the start. The culprit knew that we would likely track down and interrogate the Muggle who delivered the package for him, and made elaborate preparations well in advance. What a clever one they are, wanting to give us such a deadly surprise...Well, let me see what else I can discover—"
Under everyone's expectant gaze, Bryan raised his wand once again. His following wand movements resembled a master conductor directing a symphony orchestra—elegant, precise, and full of a mesmerizing rhythm.
The sun had finally descended completely below the horizon, and the distant city lights combined with the pale, weak sliver of moon gradually took over the sun's illuminating duties, casting the scene in an eerie glow.
As Bryan's wand circled through the air, an unusual, unnatural breeze arose in perfect synchronization with his movements. The unsettling sensation developed among the watching Aurors that a miniature black hole had mysteriously appeared at the original house site, continuously drawing invisible something from the surrounding area.
As time passed second by second, under the dimming yellow glow of the distant street lights, a clear image gradually formed at the site where the house had stood, the magical projection grew increasingly vivid as the ambient magical glow intensified.
The first scene that appeared in front of their widening eyes was a replay of the recent explosion of the Inferi. Seeing this horrific moment again from a safe distance, even the battle-hardened Aurors felt their spirits shaken. They secretly glanced at Watson's straight-backed figure as he maintained the complex spell, and their collective gazes were almost overflowing with respect for his extraordinary abilities.
Time rapidly reversed within the magical projection, flowing backwards at hundreds of times the normal speed, blurring faces and movements into streaks of color and light.
But in the detailed images projected into the shimmering air, there was consistently little valuable intelligence information to be collected.
Throughout the nearly ten minutes of orderly rewinding, no suspicious person appeared anywhere near the house, nor did anyone enter it through conventional means.
Only an ordinary government employee dressed in a standard-issue work uniform was seen knocking on doors house by house, seemingly registering resident information for some muggle bureaucratic purpose. After knocking perfunctorily on this particular house's door and receiving no response after three attempts, he simply marked something on his clipboard, turned away with indifference, and continued to the neighboring house to continue his routine.
Until the magical rewind reached its time-based limit, the house remained standing quietly in an ordinary, forgettable corner of the refugee district with no apparent issues or disturbances. Yet Bryan furrowed his brow in concentration, detecting something the others missed.
"Normally, we shouldn't only be able to see these few recent days, Oh, I see—the traces have been erased by someone—interesting—"
Bryan showed no sign of annoyance; instead, he revealed a quite interested smile.
"I must say, this phone call came at a very timely moment. I guess we'll learn some valuable information from the Muggle girl who will arrive here soon—"
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Comments
LapisLazuli
So will it be the girl who tried to ask Bryan out when he went to the ministry?
