Thick Of It

Jason's heart sank as the outer wards shattered, their protective glow fading into nothingness with a loud, bone-chilling crack. The air outside seemed to grow colder, heavier, as if even the night itself recoiled at what was coming. He could hear the faint shuffle of boots, the sinister murmurs, and then the voice that froze the very blood in his veins.

Voldemort: "Jason, you called for me . Won't you welcome me?"

Jason exchanged a quick glance with his gran, "Q," who had already drawn her wand. Her usually sharp features were calm but focused, her stance ready for battle. The two stepped out into the moonlit yard, their house now a fragile silhouette against the encroaching shadow.

Across from them stood Voldemort, his pale, snake-like face illuminated by the faint light of his wand. Behind him loomed a dozen Death Eaters, each one eager for bloodshed, their sneering faces contorted with malice.

Jason: [calmly, though his knuckles whitened around his wand] "Gran, floo network. Now. We can't take them all."

Before Q could respond, a familiar voice drawled from among the Death Eaters.

Barty Crouch Jr.: " It won't work . Don't be a coward, Jason boy. You didn't seem so eager to run last time. Why not invite me into your home again?"

Jason's eyes narrowed.

Jason: "I'd kill you before that ever happens, Barty."

Voldemort: [his voice cold, almost mocking] " I must say, I find your bravado... amusing. But let's see whether it's courage or simply the foolishness of youth."

With a flick of Voldemort's wand, a barrage of spells began striking the wards that still separated them. The Death Eaters joined in, their combined onslaught creating a cacophony of magical impact as the shimmering barrier wavered.

Jason's mind raced.

Jason: [to himself] "The Ministry has to be on their way. Any moment now. Hold the line."

But Voldemort's next words hit him like a blow to the chest.

Voldemort: "Ah, the Ministry. Your plan to strengthen it was clever, but alas, not clever enough. You see, there's one flaw—Gawain Robards is mine."

Jason froze, his blood turning to ice.

Voldemort: [smiling cruelly] "Right now, he is freeing Fenrir Greyback, who will ensure Amelia Bones meets her end tonight. Your Ministry, your precious shield, will be left in ruins."

Jason stared, horrified, the weight of those words crushing down on him. If Amelia fell, the Ministry would teeter on the brink of collapse, and everything he'd worked toward would be undone.

Q: [interrupting calmly, her voice cutting through the tension] "Oy, Voldemort. How about you and I strike a deal?"

The Death Eaters laughed, a guttural, derisive sound.

Barty: "And why would we listen to some old hag?"

Q ignored him, her sharp eyes locked on Voldemort.

Jason: [panicked] "Gran, what are you doing? Don't—"

Q: [snapping at him] "Quiet, Jason. I'm handling this."

Voldemort tilted his head, intrigued.

Voldemort: "A deal, you say? What could you possibly offer me?"

Q's lips curled into a smirk.

Q: "I'll lift the wards, and you fight my grandson. One-on-one."

The Death Eaters roared with laughter, but Voldemort held up a hand, silencing them.

Voldemort: [his red eyes gleaming with curiosity] "Interesting. You have my word."

Jason's jaw dropped.

Jason: [angrily] "Gran! What the hell are you doing?"

Q waved him off with a flick of her hand.

Q: "Shut it, boy. I'm talking."

Before Jason could protest further, Q raised her wand, muttering an incantation under her breath. The remaining ward dissolved in a swirl of golden light. The Death Eaters surged forward, eager to pounce, but Voldemort's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

Voldemort: "Stop. This is my fight."

Jason's grip on his wand tightened as he stepped forward, his heart pounding like a drum. He glanced at his gran, her expression steady but tinged with something he couldn't quite place—was it pride? Confidence? Or guilt?

Jason and Voldemort stood in the moonlit yard, wands raised, tension crackling like static in the air. The Death Eaters, standing just beyond the dissipated ward, watched in eager anticipation, their faces alight with cruel excitement.

Jason's Sharingan spun to life, the two tomoe in his eyes glinting ominously as he tuned in his radar sense. Every flicker of Voldemort's wand, every subtle shift in the air—it all became vivid in Jason's heightened perception.

Voldemort: [mocking tone] "A boy with tricks. How quaint. Let's see how long you can dance."

The Dark Lord struck first, his wand slashing through the air with deadly precision.

Voldemort: "Conflagrata!"

A torrent of flames surged toward Jason, roaring like a living beast intent on consuming him whole. Jason's wand flicked swiftly.

Jason: "Deflecto!"

The flames bent unnaturally, curling to his side and dissipating harmlessly into the ground.

Jason retaliated with a spell of his own.

Jason: "Bombarda Maxima!"

The explosion rippled outward, shattering the earth around Voldemort. But the Dark Lord didn't flinch. With a fluid motion, he cast the spell aside.

Voldemort: [smirking] "An attempt, but still... insignificant."

The scattered fire from the explosion lingered, and with a flick of Voldemort's wand, it transfigured into a blazing circle, trapping them in an inferno. The flickering light cast jagged shadows over their duel, making the scene even more menacing.

Jason disappeared into the rising smoke, his radar sense locking onto Voldemort's movements. Voldemort, unable to see clearly, relied on his instincts and fired a shielding charm.

Voldemort: "Protego Totalum!"

The shield shimmered to life just as Jason's silent spell slammed into it, cracking against the barrier.

Jason emerged from the smoke, moving with unnerving precision. Voldemort wasted no time, his voice slicing through the chaos.

Voldemort: "Avada Kedavra!"

The green jet of light shot toward Jason and he burst into white smoke. Strings of Threads erupted from Jason's side, shooting toward Voldemort's wand arm like vipers.

Jason: "Constringo!"

The strings struck true, wrapping around Voldemort's arm. The Dark Lord snarled, shifting his other hand between the strings and his body. They pierced his palm, drawing dark drops of blood that sizzled as they hit the fiery ground.

Voldemort: [sneering] "Clever, but not clever enough."

Before Jason could cast another spell, Voldemort dissolved into a cloud of black smoke, shooting into the air. From above, spells rained down.

Voldemort: "Confringo! Stupefy! Fulminis!"

Jason activated his Beast Breathing, his body surging with speed and precision as he dodged the relentless assault. His Sharingan tracked the trajectory of each spell, his radar sense anticipating the slightest change in Voldemort's position.

Voldemort, sensing the difficulty in pinning Jason down, directed the circling Fiendfyre inward. The monstrous flames roared hungrily, bearing down on Jason from all sides.

Jason: [gritting his teeth] "Aduro Nullifico!"

The Fiendfyre faltered, splitting into harmless embers before reforming at a distance.

But Voldemort wasn't finished. With a twist of his wrist, he cast a wandless spell.

Voldemort: "Expelliarmus!"

Jason's wand flew from his hand, spinning through the air before landing firmly in Voldemort's grasp.

Voldemort: [laughing coldly] "And now the boy stands disarmed."

With a flick of his borrowed wand, Voldemort sent Jason hurtling backward with a knockback charm.

Voldemort: "Disrupter Repulso!"

Jason was flung across the yard breaking his bones and causing internal injury, crashing into his gran's legs by the mailbox. Q caught him instinctively, her face a mixture of shock and fury as she stared down Voldemort.

Voldemort: [calmly, lowering Jason's wand slightly] "Is that all, Jason Bourne? The prodigy of the wizarding world?"

Jason coughed, blood staining his lips as he looked up at his gran.

Jason: [weakly] "Gran... remind me to fireproof the house next time."

Q glared at Voldemort, her grip on Jason tightening.

Q: "You've made a mistake, Voldemort. Never underestimate a family."

The atmosphere around Voldemort was thick with malevolence as his green eyes narrowed. He took in Q's unwavering stance, the air between them crackling with tension.

Voldemort: "You think you're clever, old woman? There's nowhere to run. I've set an anti-apparition veil myself. You'll find no escape here."

Q, her wand firm in her hand, raised an eyebrow.

Q: "Run? Oh, Tom, you've mistaken me for someone who fears you. I'm just getting started."

Jason, battered and bruised, clung to her side, his breath shallow. The mocking laughter of the Death Eaters echoed, yet it was clear from Voldemort's tightened grip on his wand that he wasn't underestimating her.

With a flick of her wand, Q tapped the mailbox beside her. A low hum began to fill the air, and suddenly, the earth quaked. The house behind them shimmered, folding in on itself like an origami puzzle, shrinking until it compressed into a compact suitcase that landed neatly by Q's feet.

Voldemort: "Futile . You can't hope to challenge me."

Before Q could respond, a deluge of spells rained down from the Death Eaters, ricocheting off the shimmering shield that had been conjured using ward line. The cracks in her barrier began to spread like spiderwebs.

Q: [calmly, though her voice carried weight] "Do you see this mailbox, Tom? It's no ordinary contraption. It's a portkey—my creation. And unlike your ego, it requires time to recharge. The ward I dispelled earlier allowed me to fuel it. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm a bit busy ensuring my grandson lives."

Q: [sharply] "Jason, put your hand on the mailbox. And grab the suitcase."

Jason hesitated, his trembling hand reaching for the shimmering mailbox.

Jason: "We can go. Together. Let's go Gran!"

But Q shook her head, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips.

Q: "It only takes one person at a time, Jason. I've lived my life, my boy. Raising you has been my greatest adventure. Well, that and my wild youth ,that's a story."

Jason, recognizing the determination in her voice, protested weakly.

Jason: "Gran, no! You're coming with me!"

Jason: [desperately] "Don't do this. Don't you dare leave me!"

Her shield cracked further, light spilling through. Q turned to him, her eyes full of pride.

Q: "I'm so proud of you, Jason. Now go."

The mailbox glinted, a faint star glowing at its center. Jason felt the pull before he could remove his hand.

Jason: [screaming] "Gran! No!"

A blinding flash of light enveloped him as the portkey activated. The last thing he saw was Q standing tall, her wand raised, as she cast a spell in ward lines intending it to explode.

The teleportation hurled Jason onto the cold, hard floor of an empty subway platform. His body sprawled limply across the tiles, the sterile hum of fluorescent lights the only sound in the eerie silence.

For a moment, Jason lay there, motionless. The weight of what had happened pressed down on him like a suffocating fog. But then, something inside him shifted—a burning fury, a searing resolve. His Sharingan, now fully evolved into three tomoe, spun fiercely in his eyes.

Jason: [muttering through clenched teeth] "I'll make them pay. All of them."

He pushed himself upright, his body trembling but unyielding. Limping to the nearest flickering tube light, Jason pressed his hand against it, absorbing the raw energy. The energy coursed through him, healing his wounds in jagged bursts. His breathing steadied, but his expression remained stormy, rage simmering just beneath the surface.

The subway platform seemed to groan under his presence .