Arthur apparated into the manor’s entrance hall just past midnight. The party at the Rambeaus had stretched late into the night – probably the only time these usually serious people allowed themselves to relax and have fun.

The echoes of laughter and chatter still seemed to hang in the air as he stepped inside, but the manor itself felt… quiet. Like no one was inside.

That didn’t make sense. The attack should’ve been over by now, shouldn’t it? He’d gone over Ariadne’s plans with her – everything was mapped out for a quick, efficient strike, not some prolonged mess. The silence wasn’t alarming exactly, but it did leave him puzzled.

The manor wasn’t empty as he thought, though. He found Winky in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table with her head buried in her small hands. She looked up as he entered, and her expression told him everything before she spoke a single word. Her eyes were glossy and rimmed with tears, and her ears drooped lower than he’d ever seen them.

“How bad?” Arthur asked quietly, pulling out a chair. The scrape of wood against the floor sounded far too loud in the stillness. Well, he hadn’t expected Ariadne to win, especially not with those odds, but a part of him had hoped.

Winky’s ears drooped even lower, if that was possible. “Miss Ari lost, Master.”

“Tell me everything. From the beginning.”

“At first, Winky thought it was going perfect! Miss Ari moved hidden, using cloak Master gives her. She placed those muggle boom-things everywhere, just like she practiced. They went boom at the right time! Very loud! Very effective!”

“But?” Arthur prompted gently, though he could already guess where this was heading.

“But the bad people were ready,” Winky whispered, lowering her voice as if speaking too loudly might make it worse. “They knowing Miss Ari’s ways, Master! When Miss Ari went for the big boss room, thinking all the bad people would run to the noise and fire, they were waiting. So many, Master! Hundreds of muggles with guns and knives.”

Arthur gave a small, thoughtful nod. That was unfortunate, but not entirely surprising. Ariadne should have anticipated this possibility too. The Hand had survived for centuries by adapting to threats. “So where did things go wrong? She had contingencies for this.”

“Miss Ari used everything Master gave!” Winky said proudly, even as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “The darkness powder—poof! Worked perfect! Gave Miss Ari time to attack in the dark like she always practiced. The other pranks from joke shops confused the bad people good! Winky was happy, Master! Winky watched thinking Miss Ari was winning!”

The elf’s voice trembled. “But then… some scary muggles came. Different from the others. Red eyes! Jumping at Miss Ari like animals! Moving too fast! Too strong! Not normal muggles!”

Enhanced fighters. Arthur’s jaw tightened just slightly. So The Hand had started experimenting with mutations? He’d thought only Hydra meddled in that kind of thing.

“You saved her before she got badly hurt, right?” His question came out more urgent than he intended.

Winky’s ears perked up with fierce pride. “Winky used the darkness powder Master gave for emergencies! Popped right into the fight! Grabbed Miss Ari when the bad man’s knife was coming for her throat and popped out before anyone could blink! Nobody saw Winky act properly! Winky not going to break big wizard rules and cause Master trouble!”

Arthur let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Good job, Winky. You did exactly right. How did Ariadne take it?”

Winky’s face crumpled further. “Miss Ari not happy with Winky. Very angry! Said she could have won! Said Winky ruined everything! But Winky knew Miss Ari was losing, Master! Winky saw the knife coming! Miss Ari would be dead if Winky waited even one more second! But Miss Ari did not listen! Her eyes red from crying and anger.”

Arthur reached out and gently patted her head. “You did the right thing, Winky. Ariadne was probably caught up in the heat of the moment. She wasn’t thinking clearly. By tomorrow, she’ll calm down and apologize to you.

“Winky thinks so too.”

Arthur then asked “So… she just left? Didn’t need healing?”

Winky nodded slowly. “Not much hurt outside! The armor Master gave saved her life many times! Winky counted ten bullets that hit but didn’t go through! Miss Ari just took healing potions and bandages from the medical kit and left! Didn’t even let Winky help clean the cuts!”

“That’s better than I feared,” Arthur said. “Where is she now?”

“Gone,” Winky sighed, ears drooping impossibly low, nearly touching her shoulders. “Said she needed to think. Be alone. Winky offered tea, favorite sandwiches, but…”

Arthur closed his eyes briefly, then checked the tracking charms he’d placed on Ariadne months ago. They were still active, still showing her as healthy and stationary in North London.

“You did perfectly, Winky. You saved her life, and that’s all that matters.”

Winky’s eyes shone with guilt. “Winky could have helped more! Maybe use magic to stop bad people! Maybe make their guns not work!”

“No,” Arthur said firmly but kindly. “You did exactly what I told you. No more. No less. That was the right choice. Now go get some rest. Tomorrow, she’ll be back, and everything will go back to normal.”

“Master going to find Miss Ari?”

Arthur stood and headed for the door. “Someone should make sure she doesn’t do anything foolish right now. And sometimes… people need company even when they don’t think they do.”

—

The tracking charm led him to Hampstead Heath—ancient parkland that somehow still stood untouched by London’s relentless expansion. He found her sitting on frost-kissed grass beneath an old oak tree, staring up at a surprisingly clear night sky.

She didn’t move as he approached, though he knew she’d heard him, the slight twitch of her hand toward a concealed weapon gave that away before she relaxed.

Arthur stopped a few feet away, unsure how to begin. Consolation felt patronizing after what she’d been through, and advice seemed presumptuous. So he simply lowered himself onto the cold grass beside her, far enough to give space but close enough to be present, and looked up at the stars.

They sat in silence for several minutes. The distant city sounds were reduced to a faint hum, almost like wind whispering through trees.

“You were right,” Ariadne finally said, her voice hoarse from shouting or crying—probably both. “I overreached. If I couldn’t handle one headquarters with every magical advantage you gave me, how was I going to take down the Five Fingers? It was a foolish dream. A child’s fantasy of revenge.”

Arthur stayed quiet, letting her words settle.

“I thought I was clever,” she continued, eyes locked on the sky. “Winky’s teleportation for perfect infiltration. Your gadgets evening the odds. All my planning, surveillance, practice runs… But everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face—or until ten enhanced fighters attack you like rabid wolves.”

“The enhanced fighters,” Arthur said quietly. “I didn’t expect The Hand to use them. That’s not their usual style. They prefer subtlety.”

“They weren’t Hand,” she snapped bitterly. “Just mercenaries! Some private military company the local boss hired when he got paranoid. I should’ve dug deeper into their contracts! If I’d known, I’d have hit them first, used all my bombs before revealing myself. But I was too confident. Too eager.”

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. “Everyone makes mistakes. I’ve made plenty myself. The important thing is learning from them.”

Ariadne kept silent for a long time, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air.

Arthur let the quiet stretch comfortably before asking softly, “So what’s your plan now? Regroup, replan, and strike again?”

“I can’t destroy them completely,” she admitted, a hard edge creeping into her tone. “They’ll be ready next time—and who knows what else they’ll throw at me. Instead of smashing my head against the same wall, I’ll leave that headquarters alone.”

“But…” Arthur prodded gently, knowing there had to be more.

“But I can be a thorn in their side,” she said, something like steel entering her voice. “Hit smaller operations. Free trafficking victims. Destroy drug shipments. Eliminate their middle management. Make their business expensive and dangerous.” A ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. “Let’s see who lasts longer—an organization that needs profit to survive or one woman with nothing left to lose.”

Arthur smiled softly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more directly.”

“No.” She turned toward him for the first time since he arrived, eyes steady. “Winky explained it to me long ago—why you couldn’t just teleport in and end it all. If you acted directly, it would bring the wizarding world into this. International incidents. Agencies sniffing around. Even your friends would be affected. You’ve done more than anyone could ask. Without you, I’d probably be dead months ago. Hell, I wouldn’t have gotten this far tonight.”

Arthur chuckled softly. “I didn’t expect you’d be this calm. I half expected to find you already planning round two.”

“I’m capable of learning,” she replied slowly. “Though I do owe Winky an apology. I shouldn’t have scolded her like that. She saved my life, and I thanked her by screaming like a spoiled child.”

Arthur grinned. “Nothing an apology can’t fix. Winky’s too kind-hearted to hold a grudge. She’s probably more worried about you than angry.”

“I’ll go apologize properly—with words and gifts,” she said thoughtfully. “She loves those Victorian tea sets in antique shops.”

Arthur laughed. “Good idea. Want me to apparate you back?”

“No. I’ll walk,” she said with a small shrug. “Need to clear my head. Maybe stop by that twenty-four-hour bakery she likes. Peace offerings work better with chocolate éclairs.”

“Smart. She’ll forgive you before you even finish apologizing.”

Ariadne’s lips curved into a small, real smile. “Thank you. For the equipment. For Winky. For not saying ‘I told you so.'”

“The night is still young,” Arthur replied mock-seriously. “I might get around to it eventually.”

That actually made her laugh—a small, tired but genuine sound. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

He watched her walk away, her stride already steadier despite everything she’d endured. The warrior in her was bruised but not broken. She’d be back—stronger, wiser. The Hand had won this battle, but the war was far from over.

With a soft crack, he apparated home, the sound echoing over the Heath like the closing line of a chapter.

—

Back at the manor, Winky was waiting in his study, anxiously polishing a bookshelf she’d probably cleaned three times over in the last hour.

“Miss Ari is okay?” she asked the moment he entered, nearly dropping the cloth.

“Yes,” Arthur said with a reassuring smile. “She’ll be back soon. Just needed to walk and calm down. She’s planning to apologize to you—mentioned something about Victorian tea sets and chocolate éclairs.”

Winky’s eyes widened, poorly hiding her delight. “Winky doesn’t need gifts! Winky just wants Miss Ari safe!”

Arthur moved to his desk, summoning books with a wave of his hand. Leather-bound volumes floated through the air, arranging themselves into neat stacks. “I need you to focus on protecting her more closely now. She says she’ll target smaller operations, but The Hand will make her a priority target after tonight. Even their small outposts will be deathtraps. Keep her safe, Winky.”

Winky perked up instantly, ears standing tall. “Winky will watch closer! Winky will not let Miss Ari die! Not ever!”

“I know you won’t.” He said and then continued. “You did excellently tonight. You saved her life without compromising our position. That took intelligence and restraint. I’m proud of you.”

Winky’s cheeks flushed, ears tilting forward. “Winky just did what Winky thought was right.”

Arthur smiled. “Which is why you’re the best house elf in the whole world, and why I trust you with anything.”

Overwhelmed, Winky squeaked and popped away to avoid further embarrassment, leaving Arthur alone with his books.

He chuckled softly at her departure, then turned to the gathered tomes—treatises on warfare from Sun Tzu to Clausewitz, histories of conflicts from the Peloponnesian War to modern skirmishes, accounts of peacekeeping efforts both successful and disastrous.

Now that the Ariadne situation had settled somewhat, it was time to refocus on the Hala problem. Removing their weapons of mass destruction had been only a temporary measure—they’d eventually rebuild or find other means of destruction. He needed to study historical precedents, examples where warring factions were brought to peace. Maybe Earth’s bloody past could offer wisdom for another world’s crisis.

With a determined breath, he opened the first book, preparing for what promised to be a long night of research.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep