The Battle of Perfecto

Pryce was on Perfecto’s roof, along with a handful of witches and wizards. They were all carrying flying brooms. In the artificial night, one could barely see that above them, circling like vultures, were a hundred winged men. They could only be felt, with their eyes staring down hungrily at the witches and wizards. They stayed just outside the barrier, waiting for it to finally break.

“All right, guys,” she said, trembling. It did not help that cold winds were blowing around them in that height. “I know its black as night out here, but we have to do our best. We attack anyone coming from above, and also try as much as possible to aid those fighting below. Wands ready? All right, fly!”

Two dozens of witches and wizards on brooms rocketed into the air and took to the skies, just as the final layer of the protective spells were broken. The winged men, realizing what had happened, suddenly dived towards the building, talons poised to rip and tear. Pryce reacted quickly. She took aim and fired, “Duro!” at the nearest Ravena. She hit the creature’s wings, which immediately turned to stone. The bird-like scream was deafening as the Ravena plunged towards the ground.

Around her were flashes of light as her fellows cast spell after spell at the murder of raven-men. Some did not fare as good, unable to fight in the darkness. They got knocked off their brooms and fell to the concrete like stones with flailing limbs.

Pryce narrowly missed the same, messy fate when a Ravena approached her from her blindside. Before the winged creature could cut her with its talons however, two concrete hands slammed together and smashed the Ravena in between.

The stone giants of the University were waving their arms widely, catching winged creatures and throwing them off the air, or crushing them like annoying mosquitos.

Face splattered with a bit of the Ravena’s dark blood, Pryce egged her broom the other way and proceeded to throw curses at the remaining flying men.
*

The grounds were now covered by wizards and witches from Hidalgo’s army and the defenders of Perfecto dueling each other. The dark wizards attacked with ferocity, sending curse after curse hurtling towards the witches and wizards of Perfecto. The defenders held their ground pretty well, blocking or parrying the spells sent against them. Someone, probably inspired by the moving statues, had animated the trees, which attacked by swinging their trunk and branches at any dark wizard that came close.

Kristoff, a wizard assigned to the parking lot beside Silang was dueling two cackling witches, who had cornered him into the Silang lobby. Two pairs of duelers were there as well, bellowing out spells at each other.

“Ladies, please,” he said, blocking and casting simultaneously. He was being slowly driven back. From the corner of his eye, he saw one dueler fall. He did not risk looking away to check whether it was someone from their side. “One at a time. I can only handle so much.”

The witches cackled, throwing more curses at him. They seemed to be enjoying the flirting as much as the torturing.

“Whoa!” Kristoff said, as he dodged a Cruciatus Curse. “You ladies wouldn’t be thinking of hurting me now, would ya?”

“Hurt you, strangle you,” one replied, cackling after each word. Kristoff had the thought she got hit by a badly placed Cheering Charm. “Maim you, cleave you.”

“Careful now,” Kristoff said, sending an Impediment Jinx at her, only to be blocked. “I understand some ladies want to be kinky, but that’s a bit too much! Protego! ”

He cast a Shield Charm in reaction to a loose spell that had come from someone else other than the two witches she was dueling. The curse hit his shield, and rebounded on the kinky witch.

She screamed in a laughing manner as she got knocked back and sent off her feet. Kristoff quickly followed it up with another spell, rendering her unconscious.

“Finally, it’s just you,” Kristoff pointed his wand at the remaining witch, smiling. “And me. Shall we dance?” And he slashed his wand, “Tarantallegra! ”

The second cackling witch suddenly burst into an incontrollable fit of outlandish tap-dancing. From the look of her face, she did not have any control of her legs.

“Wow,” Kristoff laughed. “I did not expect to be using that in a serious duel. Ah-ta-tat! Expelliarmus!” He swung his waist aside as she threw a curse at him, but, having no stable footing, she missed by a mile. With a lazy flick of his wand, he Disarmed her.

Kristoff turned and saw that the two Perfecto defenders in the Silang lobby were still very much conscious and were also wrapping up their own fights.

*

The darkness was unbearable for someone who was night blind, in this case Don. But he could not risk lighting up his wand, so he stayed in the darkness, huddled up in the corner just beneath the stairs, waiting. From outside, he heard voices.

“It’s him!” a male voice, quite terrified.

“Shit!” another terrified voice. A female’s.

“Impedimenta!” a terrified cast.

“Avada Kedavra!” a growl.

Don Rage held his breath as flashes of green light peeked through the closed metal grates of the 1st floor lobby. There was a long silence after the Killing Curse was cast. To be broken by the screech of metal as the grates slid open. A heavily cloaked figure stepped into the lobby. It muttered “Lumos” and a wand-tip flared with light, its shine reflecting off a small triangle on the figure’s chest and also revealing his baboon-skull mask. Don Rage shrank further into the shadows. Hidalgo is here.