Target: Sirius Black
13 August 2002 — Sirius Black Suppression Operation, Central London
"The opponent is Sirius Black."
Marcus's voice dropped, cold and heavy.
Sirius's photograph appeared on the blackboard—that face twisted in mad laughter, exactly the same as the one I'd seen only moments ago. His sorrowful eyes, that insane reaction speed, the laughter still ringing in my ears... all of it kept circling me. My shoulder throbbed as if the pain had never left.
"You lot are the support force."
Marcus swept his gaze across the classroom. For a moment his voice softened, thick with old emotion.
"Twelve years ago I was deployed to this incident as part of the Magical Law Enforcement Special Assault Unit. And I did nothing. I just hid until Mad-Eye Moody and three members of the Wizengamot arrived. I managed to get every civilian near me out alive, but almost every one of my colleagues ended up dead or half-crippled. The ones who got here early already saw the aftermath, didn't you?"
His casual tone and razor-sharp eyes cut between me and Cedric.
"I don't know what his game was, but before a certain point Sirius Black never used direct attack spells on Aurors. He stuck to binding and stunning charms. The Aurors from Magical Law Enforcement also finished evacuating civilians from their sectors damn fast. So why the hell did so many people die in this one? Doesn't it make you wonder why the empty plots at the Dartmoor Ministry National Cemetery filled up so quickly right after?"
Silence settled over the room, thick and heavy. Marcus gave a bitter smile, hesitated, then fixed his stare on the side of the room where Cedric, Karina, and I sat before continuing in a lower voice.
"Friendly fire from the Prime Minister's Guard Battalion, plus a whole lot of Aurors who got caught in the crossfire between the Wizengamot members and Black. As you know, most of the Guard Battalion grew up on Abraxas Scholarships. And the entire unit that fired those friendly shots was later found dead in the chaos of Black's clash with the three Wizengamot members—frozen so solid even their memories couldn't be read. Sirius Black put up a vicious fight against those three before Mad-Eye Moody finally took him alive."
Right. Sirius Black only tried to kill me directly once—right at the end, when his heart had gone completely black and he was crying Harry's name. Before that it was all collateral damage from blowing up buildings. In the time I witnessed, the ones who actually killed Aurors and civilians were the wide-area blasting magic from the Prime Minister's Guard Battalion floating overhead. So even in this world, was Sirius Black really framed? But the scale of this is way too big for Wormtail to pull off alone. And this briefing... something feels off. What is it? There's a weird dissonance here.
"Eugene Kim. You think the Sirius Black capture op is a cakewalk? After this one we're rolling straight into the Bellatrix Lestrange capture op. Same day, same bloodline, same city—London. Might as well call it a series."
Ah, fuck. I'd been so deep in thought I never even noticed Marcus had walked right up to my desk and was staring me down.
"Any chance of a refund?"
"You agreed to the terms. No refunds after the first simulation."
"Still, Bellatrix Lestrange is a bit—"
"Quiet. You all know this already, but Sirius Black was just a byproduct. NATO forces stumbled across him while tracking Bellatrix Lestrange. The bastard simply had the bad luck to run into the people hunting his cousin and caused that whole mess while trying to escape. Our real target—and NATO's—was always Bellatrix Lestrange. After the Dark Lord vanished, she was the most dangerous piece left on the board. You have any idea how many B-52s got shot down and how many people died trying to catch the woman who infiltrated Washington, beheaded the Kennedy heir, and vanished? They didn't call her the Witch of Curses for nothing."
Marcus's icy question froze the air in the classroom. Even the kids who'd been snickering shut their mouths and swallowed hard.
I already knew. The second biggest shock after landing in this world had been the combat power of the Death Eaters. The first time I saw news footage of Bellatrix Lestrange fighting in Germany, my guts dropped through the floor. And now I was trying to keep Cedric alive against people like that.
"The Sirius Black incident will feel like heaven by comparison. What happens when a powerful witch with mastery of Disguise, Transfiguration, raw combat skill, and the will to kill turns fully hostile against her own side... that's probably outside the limits of your imagination."
"Then who actually captured the Witch of Curses?"
"NATO's concentrated firepower, American Aurors throwing their lives away in wave after wave of assaults, Mad-Eye Moody's merciless barrage, and—finally—Albus Dumbledore showing up late to help. That's what it took to bring her down."
"So if we run the simulation we still can't catch her?"
"Of course you can't catch her yet. That's why you focus. You catch the cousin first so you have a shot at the older one later. We didn't throw you in front of the Dark Lord on day one. At the very least you need to prove you can survive someone on Sirius Black's level."
That was dead accurate too. In the end, to save Cedric I would have to face Barty Crouch Jr. while he was still disguised as Mad-Eye Moody. Even in the original he was a terrifying fighter—how much stronger was he here? I couldn't even guess. So I had to start here, one step at a time. Even if it was only inside a simulation, I had to beat these people.
Marcus's face hardened again as he pointed at the blackboard. A detailed map of the area around King's Cross Station in London appeared.
The moment I read the letters on the board, a massive explosion and screams roared in my ears.
Fuck, someone stop those bombing bastards! Friendlies are dying too!
Tobias exploding right in front of me, the radio screaming—both sounds still buzzed around my head. Blood fountained up in front of my eyes, spreading like an umbrella. My hands were covered in it.
"Eugene! Eugene! Are you okay? Why do you keep zoning out? Are you hurt? Should I tell the instructor?"
Karina shaking my shoulder finally snapped me back. Damn it. Did I take too little of my meds this morning?
"Ah—sorry. I'll focus. I'm not hurt. Sorry."
I dragged my eyes back to Instructor Marcus. He was calmly laying out his blood-soaked memories like he was reading the table of contents of a Shakespeare play.
"...Five minutes after the start, Apparition becomes impossible and the Special Assault teams covering each sector will begin suppressing magical power. Your primary objective until then is to pin Sirius Black's feet and stay alive."
He tapped the map with his pointer. A brief silence. Only the sound of someone swallowing hard and the air conditioner humming filled the room.
"You have two final objectives."
His voice dropped even lower.
"Survive until someone successfully subdues Sirius Black. That will count as mission complete."
He glared at us.
"Or subdue or kill Sirius Black yourselves. It won't be easy, but if you pull it off, you pass."
Silence stretched for a moment.
"Briefing over."
Marcus gestured, and the surface of the Pensieve rippled silver. Waves spread outward in concentric circles like data pulses. Beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
The image of Tobias exploding in front of me kept replaying. It wouldn't leave.
Then, before the thought could finish, Marcus's voice cut through.
"Now go in."
The world flipped.
Light tore apart. Gravity melted. Up and down vanished. My body felt like it was floating—no, falling. No, both.
My vision went black and consciousness dropped away.
Boom—
When I opened my eyes, I was standing in the middle of London.
My stomach heaved. Whether it was motion sickness or the knowledge of the pain still waiting for me, I forced the gag down.
Remember, Eugene Kim. Forget the thirty minutes. Even here, I have to catch Sirius Black.
The stench of blood and dust hit me again. And with it, that subtle wrongness I'd felt during Marcus Weybridge's briefing.
The completion and pass conditions, the way he'd described the situation—they were all just a little different from Bill and Charlie's notes...
Could be my imagination. I only skimmed the notebook while eating chocolate earlier. For now, just focus on the simulation...
I concentrated on the air reaching my nose. The London of this day didn't smell of butterbeer. It was thick with nothing but the stench of old, congealed, rotting blood.