"Damn it! We're breaking through!"
Seeing more and more wizards from the Pureblood Party pouring in behind Rosier, Christine had no intention of surrendering. Instead, she immediately raised her wand and cast the first spell.
As Christine's spell was swiftly deflected by a flick of Rosier's hand, the wizards on both sides launched into action. Countless spells of various kinds shot through the air in a chaotic exchange.
However, compared to Rosier's Pureblood Party followers, Christine's group was clearly at a disadvantage—both in skill and in numbers.
As the battle reached a brief stalemate, a sudden scream rang out from behind. Christine turned her head sharply and saw "Cedric" standing over one of her fallen allies.
A slow, sinister smile spread across "Cedric's" face as his features began to shift, revealing the true identity of Abernathy.
"Clever girl, but unfortunately, you picked the wrong side."
Abernathy looked Christine over, his expression one of exaggerated regret.
"Abernathy, you never used to waste this much breath."
At that moment, the figure beside Abernathy—previously appearing as Kirk—also transformed, revealing himself as Carrow.
Glancing around at the spell-laden hall, Carrow's face lit up with glee.
"Ah, what a mess! Let's liven things up a bit! Let's see who's got the worst luck!"
Without hesitation, Carrow raised his wand. Previously surrounded by Christine's forces, he and Abernathy now had their backs to the distracted enemy, thanks to Rosier's arrival.
Christine alone noticed the shift, but before she could shout a warning, Carrow's wand flared.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Stupefy!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light streaked through the air. A wizard near Christine went pale, stiffened, and collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
"Oh wow! Looks like your luck's run out!" Carrow jeered dramatically, grinning in the direction of his fallen victim.
Christine's anxiety mounted as she saw her allies falling one by one. Her gaze darted around, then finally fixed on Carrow and Abernathy.
"We take them down together!"
Her plan was simple—capture Carrow and Abernathy as hostages and use them as leverage to negotiate an escape. Christine knew the Pureblood Party was unlikely to compromise, but it was her only chance.
As soon as she spoke, several nearby wizards redirected their attacks toward Carrow and Abernathy.
"Oh, she's getting desperate! She's getting desperate!" Carrow mocked, his excitement only growing.
Abernathy, however, remained composed. Grabbing Carrow's arm, he said calmly, "Enough playing around. Time to go. If they actually capture us, it'll be quite the headache for the young master."
With that, Abernathy reached for a button-shaped Portkey. A twist in the air—and they were gone.
Christine clenched her fists as she watched them vanish, frustration boiling inside her. But there was no time to dwell on it, because just then, Wentworth's voice rang out once more:
"Christine Graves? If I'm not mistaken, that's your name, isn't it? Tell me, have you still not considered surrendering? There's no way out of this."
Christine turned toward the voice and saw Wentworth strolling back, flanked by Pureblood Party wizards, utterly at ease. His air of confidence made her seethe with anger, but she couldn't deny that he was right.
Taking a deep breath, she called out, "Wentworth Grindelwald, if we surrender, will you let us live?"
Wentworth slowly shook his head.
Christine's heart sank. Just as she was about to fight to the bitter end, Wentworth added, "Letting all of you go is impossible—but I can promise you this: we only pursue the masterminds."
Christine laughed dryly. "That answer… is almost convincing enough for me to believe you're not lying."
She turned to her remaining allies. "We've lost. Put down your wands. I hope you all make it home safely."
Leading by example, Christine tossed her wand at Wentworth's feet and said firmly, "Wentworth Grindelwald, I orchestrated everything. They only followed my orders. Let them go, and I will stay behind to face whatever fate you decide."
Wentworth looked at her with an expression of exasperated confusion. "My dear lady, could you at least tell me why? What grudge do we have?"
He had asked absentmindedly, but to his surprise, Christine answered in a chilling tone:
"A blood feud."
Wentworth blinked. "…Excuse me?"
Just as he was processing her words, Christine continued, "You wanted to know where we're from? I'll tell you now."
Before she could say more, another voice cut in from behind Wentworth:
"The Magical Congress of the United States of America."
Wentworth turned to see Abernathy, who had returned hastily.
Abernathy stepped forward, scrutinizing Christine. "Percival Graves—what is he to you?"
Christine's expression stiffened. She hadn't expected her identity to be exposed so quickly. After a moment's hesitation, she replied, "He was my grandfather."
Wentworth's curiosity piqued. Turning to Abernathy, he asked, "This Percival Graves—who is he?"
Abernathy's face was shadowed with recollection. "When I served as an Auror in MACUSA, Percival Graves was already the Director of Magical Security and Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
Wentworth whistled. "Quite the big shot."
Abernathy's gaze darkened. "More importantly… he was once one of us. A member of the Pureblood Party."
"That's impossible!" Christine shrieked, her face contorted with disbelief.
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