Absquatulate

Yoongi Min doesn’t want to go to work any more than any sane person does. Hell, he didn’t even want to get out of bed when some bastard called in the middle of the night.

“Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There is an emergency and we need someone who can fly in a magically-enhanced storms and they recommended you, Yoongi Min. Are you up for the job?” A male voice reaches Yoongi’s ear.

“Please hold on for a second.” Yoongi pulls his phone away from his face and yawns into his pajama sleeve, trying not to embarrass himself. In any other circumstances, Yoongi would track the person down and kill them (after he gets back his sleep, of course) for waking him up at a such unholy hour, but obviously he can’t do that if it’s his boss. His mind is still pretty fuzzy, but he’s still smart enough to talk formally. “I’m not sure, sir. I don’t have any experiences flying through anything remotely close to a magical storm.”

“Well, your school record says you caught the snitch in a blizzard so strong it covered most of the audience seat with snow when you were thirteen,” The guy on the phone muses. “And you did the exact same thing five years later. There’s no need to be humble.”

How the fuck do they even know about that. “I lost both games, though,” Yoongi doesn’t hide his yawn this time. He knows that being an Auror means always standing by and responding to any call of duty, but sometimes he really hates his job. He needs his ten hours, for fuck’s sake. “And I know people far better than me. One of them is a real professional player and the other one could’ve been a professional if he hadn’t gone to America to study dragons.” Yoongi unconsciously smiles at a fond memory of Hoseok squealing at his new dragon tattoo given by Jungkook on a Christmas a few years ago.

He knows he’s rambling. He doesn’t even know what he’s talking about or why he’s talking about Hoseok when the Department wants Aurors. He’s still sleepy, okay? Cut him some slack. His mind is fudge before he gets his morning (more like noon, since he'd sleep through the morning if he could) coffee.

“This isn’t just about flying, though,” The guy huffs. “And I’m not joking. I want you here right now with your broom and your wand. And a clear brain. And a lot of adrenaline and focus.”

“What exactly am I doing, sir?” Yoongi jumps off of bed and grabs for his wand on his bedside table, dressing himself with a flick of his wand as he turns on his bedroom light and power-walks to the bathroom after giving his pillow one last pat. The way the guy says it makes him feel a bit of chill. He scrolls through the digital version of the Daily Prophet on his phone, but there are no major news or illegal activities. This operation must be classified, then. “And sir, after this shit I’m gonna take a twenty-four hour nap off-duty.”

“You have my word.” The guy says and Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Is the guy for real? “You have three minutes. We’re leaving real soon.”

“With all due respect, sir, you don’t sound like any of my bosses, and I don’t listen to anyone but my bosses.” Yoongi says with his toothbrush in his mouth. “Who are you?”

“Harry Potter, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.” The person, Harry Potter, says evenly. “I am your boss. It’s just that I don’t show up for anyone, you know.”

Yoongi’s vision momentarily blacks out at the name “Harry Potter.” He remembers the hot-white pain flaring all over his body, tearing his every muscle and crushing his every bone. He remembers the Cruciatus Curse that feels like it’s eroding his insides and infecting his every brain cell, forcing them to magnify every burning sensation on every inch of his body. He remembers Voldemort pointing his wand to young Harry Potter, killing him mercilessly. He remembers how Namjoon risked his own life to come to Yoongi’s rescue.

The past never let him go.

“Hello? You okay?” Potter’s voice is concerned. “If you’re not feeling well, I’ll call another . . .”

“I’m okay!” Yoongi shouts, then takes a deep breath. “I’m okay, sir. I’ll be there.”

“Two minutes.” Potter says before hanging up, and Yoongi sighs as he splashes more water onto his face.

A minute later, Yoongi arrives at the Ministry of Magic with his broom. Potter is already waiting along with a few other Aurors at the departing port. Yoongi can see the city of London through the port exit, which is around fifty stories in the air.

“There you are.” Potter says, smiling faintly at Yoongi’s wild hair. “So here’s our crew . . .”

So apparently they’re here to transport an Azkaban prisoner to the Korean Ministry, and apparently whoever the prisoner is he or she must be quite troublesome, because there are going to be four fliers (including Yoongi), two coachmen driving a highly secured carriage pulled by Thestrals, and three Aurors riding with the prisoner in the carriage.

(To be honest, he does want to visit the Korean Ministry. His family name is Korean but he never visited.)

“Thestrals,” Yoongi mutters, slowly walking over to the horse-like creatures and stroking one of those horses’ snouts. The Thestral whinnies and leans into his feather-like touches.

Potter nods solemnly. “You’ve seen death before?” He asks.

“Too frequently.” Yoongi answers softly, thinking back to when he accidentally burnt his own mother a long time ago and when he witnessed a school massacre caused by Jungkook losing his control over his Obscurus. “Also, who are we escorting now?”

Potter hesitates, to which Yoongi narrows his eyes. “This is confidential and only known to a few high-ranked managers,” Potter says slowly, sharp green eyes examining Yoongi’s expression. “But you can know this: the person in there is a follower of Voldemort’s ideal and possibly has the motive to build the empire Voldemort failed to establish.”

When Yoongi says he hates something, he hates it with everything he has (similarly, when he says he loves something, he loves it with everything he has). He used to hate himself for killing his mother. He used to hate the Durmstrang Headmaster for expelling and insulting Jungkook (he still does). He used to hate the Hogwarts students who bullied him and Jungkook when they first came to Hogwarts. He only ever hated people because things were unfair to him.

And now here is a person, the bane of all evil, and if Yoongi is in the position to, he would get the person executed right then, right there. Prolonging their death is stupid because that means the person has more opportunities to escape or become more powerful or whatever, and Yoongi’s definitely not taking the chances. But of course he’s not in the position to make the decision so he can only deal with what little information he’s given and try not to go insane with his own personal issue with injustice.

Calm down, Yoongi. He’s an Auror, for fuck’s sake. It’s his job to stop people from murdering each other, not to murder people himself. It’s honestly already a fucking miracle that Yoongi even passed the Aurors’ test, judging from how emotionally unstable Yoongi can be. It should be impossible for him to become the best of the Aurors.

But here he is. The best of the Aurors. He’s not here to disappoint.

“You okay?” Potter asks, resting a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi stiffly removes Potter’s hand. “I’m okay. Ready to go.” He hops onto his broom, gripping the handle of his broom tightly with white knuckles.

One of the Aurors looks over at him weirdly. “You alright, mate?” She asks a little too happily. “First time going to Azkaban? It’s not that scary without the Dementors.”

That’s not what Yoongi’s worrying about at all, but since the Auror is pretty friendly Yoongi chooses not to retort. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I’ve been to Azkaban thrice. This’ll be my fourth time.” She continues, completely oblivious to Yoongi’s internal turmoil.

Yoongi thinks back to when Namjoon shared his experience of visiting Azkaban as a kid, and remembers how Namjoon’s face would always pale at the mere mention of Azkaban, and how he would quickly find a lame excuse to change the topic.

“I bet it’s not scary at all.” Yoongi mutters, at the same time Potter shouts “GO!”

“Giddy up!” One of the coachmen shouts, and the Thestrals neigh loudly in response. The beautiful horses spread their wings and sprints forward, dragging the carriage with them and soaring into the night.

Yoongi and the three other fliers kick off, and the warmness that tightens Yoongi’s chest is back, after not flying for too many years. He feels adrenaline pumping into his veins steadily, and his eyesight seems to sharpen but a hundred times. He follows closely behind the carriage, and takes a 90-degree dive.

Yoongi has to resist the urge to whoop. Tears are brimming in his eyes, and although part of it is because of him flying at break-neck speed, it’s also tears of happiness. He almost forgets how much he loved flying, and how much he was worrying only seconds earlier.

He pulls up his broom just before he dives head-first towards the surface River Thames, pulling himself up at the last second so he doesn't get wet, and feels his boots grazing the calm water, which is reflecting the stars that are quickly disappearing behind the stormy clouds. The carriage before him is steadily driving on the water, and the Thestrals gallop on the water’s surface before changing direction and gaining altitude quickly. Yoongi and the fliers follow after taking a moment to admire the city lights.

They fly right into the brewing storm, which is building up electricity that will soon take the shape of lightning. The air turns cold and Yoongi is immediately grateful that the Auror uniform has a thick coat.

They arrive at Azkaban a few minutes later, and Yoongi tries his best to not look at anything in this depressing place. They land at the departing port in the gray, stark prison and wait as the Aurors working there escort the mysterious Death Eater wannabe to the carriage.

Yoongi looks down to his broom when he hears footsteps approaching. “Hey,” He calls to no one in particular and closes his eyes. “Why does he have to go to Korea, anyway?”

“Apparently his family name has Korean origins and the Ministry there thinks it’s legit to keep him to themselves.” An Auror behind him scoffs. “As if they have a better place for him to stay than Azkaban.”

“What are they going to do to him, eh?” Another Auror says sarcastically. “Beautify him to death?” Some other Aurors snicker.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Yoongi says. And I’m not even Seokjin hyung.

“Don’t be a wimp,” The flier beside him scolds, and that immediately gets on Yoongi’s nerves. “Scared of whoever’s in there? He’s nothing more than dead heaps of flesh.”

Yoongi hates being called a wimp. God fucking damnit, the Hat almost sorted him into Gryffindor because of his pride. He is anything but weak, anything but a coward.

“You call me that again,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth, his eyes still closed and face still down. He can feel waves of his own anger rippling in the air. “And I’ll fucking bury you alive in Voldemort’s grave.”

An Auror whistles lowly, and the flier beside him is smart enough to shut up. If there’s something Yoongi’s proud of, it’s his ability to scare people he doesn’t know.

“Let’s go!” The coachman shouts and whips the bridle. The Thestrals rear up and sprints back into the stormy sky, with the fliers closely following them.

Yoongi can’t shake away the feeling that something’s going to go wrong. The tightness in his chest that results in adrenaline rush is replaced by anxiety and worry. He can see the carriage in front of him completely locked from the outside with advanced charms, but as an advanced charms master, Yoongi knows that he only needs a few hours to break them. He has no idea what the prisoner is capable of; he only knows that they cannot be underestimated.

Like all the Aurors are doing right now. Underestimating them.

So Yoongi digs out his wand from his coat, steering his broom with one hand for a few seconds, and holds it with the broom handle. One can never be more prepared. He grips the wand hard to keep it from falling off.

It’s only a matter of seconds before the first lightning strikes and the first raindrop appears, and this is when things start to get interesting terrifying.

Next thing Yoongi knows is that he’s dodging lightning and soaking wet from the pouring rain. The wet coat is useless against the cold that’s now seeping through Yoongi’s clothes and freezing into his bones. His muscles start to grow numb, but Yoongi just grits his teeth, holds the broom firmer, and tries to see through the heavy rain and keep his eyes on the carriage.

The locks on the carriage suddenly click, scaring Yoongi out of his skin, and Yoongi is barely able to dodge a person, flying out of the carriage and screaming his lungs out. Yoongi recognizes him as one of the three Aurors who is supposed to ride the carriage with the prisoner.

Crap.

Before he knows it, the other two Aurors are thrown out of the carriage like dolls, one of them unconscious already and the other one cursing a lovely string of foul words. And from how the flier beside him screams, the flier is probably too slow to dodge the body and is gone with those Aurors. Yoongi has to resist the urge to look back, see if those Aurors have their wands to protect themselves or if they are alive at all, but he can’t. The prisoner isn’t getting away with this.

“Hey!” Yoongi shouts, and is surprised to hear his voice similar to a snow leopard’s growl, deep and powerful, like it’s already magnified without any magic.

A lightning comes pretty close to hitting Yoongi, but he takes a sharp twirl just in time to dodge it (thankfully his maneuvres are still as good as before). The guy behind him isn’t that careful, however, and Yoongi can smell the scent of burning clothes for one second before the guy falls too.

The two chairmen are thrown off the carriage, and Yoongi can hear the Thestrals whining in protest. The carriage suddenly changes direction, and the remain Aurors, Yoongi and another flier, are forced to follow.

“Hey!” Yoongi screams again, and balances the broom with one hand. With another hand, he raises his wand and cuts off the leash on the Thestrals with a single wave, causing the carriage to fall from the stormy sky and the Thestrals to run free. Yoongi curses under his breath and dodges a Thestral flying his way to take a better look at the prisoner.

A man with his back facing Yoongi is riding on one of the Thestrals that have just been freed. He turns slightly to fire a Killing Curse, instantly ending the other flier’s life. The green curse blends perfectly as a supernatural lightning, and Yoongi hates himself for thinking about how beautiful it looks with the stormy black sky.

Yoongi grits his teeth harder and when another curse comes flying to his direction, he has his wand ready. “Expulso!” He shouts, and the blue explosion curse meets the prisoner’s killing curse.

Yoongi quickly breaks off the stalemate to dodge lightning. He needs something more useful. Something more effective. And more importantly, something that doesn’t die from lightning and rain.

Fire has always been a part of Yoongi, as much as he would wholeheartedly deny it. The fire inside him killed his mother; but the same fire led him to Namjoon, whose heart was left with dead ashes of his past. The same fire was passed on to Namjoon, who was then able to reborn.

But Yoongi isn’t here to resurrect anyone. He’s here to destroy.

A distant growl rumbles louder than the cracking electricity and booming thunder, overpowering all the noises of the storm. Yoongi sees a glimpse of red shadow through the thick clouds, and smirks. This is his battle to win, and his only. The prisoner is going to pay for his actions.

The prisoner turns, and with only lightning occasionally lighting up his face, Yoongi can only make out the dark long hair and unhealthily pale skin before darkness looms over them again.

Out of nowhere, a giant flaming Swooping Evil the size of a normal dragon swoops down at the prisoner, whose Thestral has to take a very sharp turn to dodge the fire.

For most people, a Fiendfyre is incredibly hard to control. But for Yoongi, a pureblood Veela born with control over fire, it’s almost easy. The Fiendfyre taking the shape of a Swooping Evil is completely unbothered by the lightning constantly striking it. The rain does nothing to quench the fire.

Yoongi and Namjoon used to chat about Fiendfyre when they were still students. “They’re like a more destructive form of Patronus,” Namjoon had said, since he’s the master of all curses and jinxes. “They take different shapes for different people. My dad showed me one that looked like a Golden Retriever once. It was cute.”

(Only Namjoon would call extremely destructive curses cute.)

And when Yoongi and Hoseok talked about Magical Creatures, also when they were students, Hoseok once jokingly said: “if you were a creature, you’d be a swooping evil.” And when Yoongi asked him why, it was his response: “You speak with venom in your voice when you’re with strangers, but the venom can erase our bad memories. You might look tough on the outside, but you’re fluffy on the inside.”

Yoongi’s not sure about the fluffy part, but he right now he really wants to spit venom and disfigure Death Eater's face.

The Swooping Evil comes swooping back, and is now battling the prisoner, who’s firing Fiendfyre counter spells and creating pretty impressive shields, looking pretty at ease but occupied. Yoongi takes this chance to fly closer, wincing as a flash of lightning gets too close to him. Edges of his robes already has frost covered over them from the long exposure to coldness. Yoongi has to end this quickly, and now that the prisoner is distracted, he has to move. Now.

With a slashing hand gesture, Yoongi waves his wand and cuts the bridle around the Thestral. It whinnies happily at its newfound freedom, and the man, now without any support, falls straight down too silently for Yoongi’s liking.

Yoongi adjusts his grip on the broom and dives after the prisoner, whose wand is already gone from the fall. The man doesn’t look even slightly fazed at his lack of wand, though, and Yoongi slightly frowns at that.

Yoongi points his wand at the prisoner’s heart while still diving at breakneck speed. “Whoever the fuck you are, you have been arrested for assaulting seven Aurors . . .”

The prisoner lets out a cold chuckle that immediately annoys Yoongi. “I’ve seen you before,” The ex-Death Eater muses with a quirked eyebrow. “Where have I seen you before?”

“. . . committing one first-degree murder of an Auror, and resisting arrest." Yoongi narrows his eyes as he says that. The protocol would be arresting the Death Eater, putting him on restraining spells and muting him in case he tries soundless incantation and confiscating his wand, and bringing him back to the British Ministry since traveling all the way to Korea would be too risky with just Yoongi against the obviously dangerous man. But here is his chance! No Aurors are around to testify against Yoongi if he kills the man and ends all the trouble right here, right now. He could say he broke the Death Eater's ribs, which impaled the Death Eater's heart, and he won't be lying so truth detecing spells won't work on him. It's not hard to fake it, too. Here, right here, is where Yoongi could have changed the lives of millions, including his own, dramatically. Here is where history could have permanently changed.

Yoongi Min raises his wand.

“Ah, I remember you now.” The Death Eater continues to fall, but the way he crosses his arms on his chest casually makes him look like he’s in perfect control of the fall and the situation. His complete disregard of Yoongi's raised wand sends an angry wave of shivers down Yoongi's spine. The Death Eater's eagle-like eyes shine in the dark and stare straight into Yoongi’s. “How peculiar is it to find us on opposite sides? Who would’ve thought.”

What the fuck. What the fuck is he talking about?

“I’d like to talk more, but I’m already late to my very important Death Eater meeting.” The prisoner continues, his provocative and almost lazy smile the only thing visible now. Yoongi can faintly process the fact that they’re going to land in River Thames in a few seconds. The muscles around his mouth twitches like he's winking, but Yoongi can't be sure. All he's sure about is he's going to punch him the first chance he gets. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Yoongi blinks, and the fucker pulls out his wand from out of nowhere, firing the famous Sectumsempra curse straight at his heart. He instinctively dodges, but he's too slow.

He doesn’t even know where the spell hits. All he knows is that his shoulder starts hurting so much he can’t even hold on to his broom. His entire right arm is paralyzed from the pain, and half of his face feels like it’s burning. It hurts to scream, hurts to open his eye, hurts to do anything other than letting go of the broom and falling. His brain short-circuits, not completely comprehending what pain means just yet other than being the source of his quickly deteriorating energy. He doesn't remember where he put hit wand; it could be swirling around in the storm for all he knows.

Yoongi hits the cold water after a few seconds, and is fortunately lucky enough to have held his breath before the impact. He spends a few seconds trying to figure out which way is up and which way is down, scrubbing his skin furiously when the water clings to him like parasites and drags him down before realizing that it's obviously not his first priority, before kicking the water and breaking through the surface with a loud gasp.

A long, drawn-out groan escapes his lips, and Yoongi can already taste blood in the water. He looks up and sees the prisoner-now-fugitive flying away with Yoongi’s broom with suspiciously impressive agility, flying away from the crimes he committed.

Asshole.

In his good hand is Yoongi’s wand. He’s not going to live long even if he manages to stay afloat in the water. He’ll bleed to death. Or freeze to death. Or drown. He doesn’t want to know what will get to him first in the slightest.

“Saint Mungo’s,” Yoongi croaks and spits out a mouthful of disgusting water. Speaking it out loud somehow makes it easier for him to concentrate and ignore the pain. He grips his wand tighter and holds it against his chest. “Saint Mungo’s.”

Instead of sinking into the depth of the river, Yoongi collapses against a white wall.

He’s only gone to Saint Mungo’s once, when he visited his grandmother after his mother died, but the memory is clear enough for the Apparition to work. There’s not much to remember anyway; just the white walls, white doors, white corridors, white ceiling. The place is squeaky clean with not a single speck of dirt. No colors, no life, only death wandering around and deciding on whose door to knock on, only nurses trying to prolong patients' lives. It’s a depressing place for people like Yoongi to be.

Doctors and nurses (more commonly called Healers in older times) immediately turn their attention to Yoongi, who must really look terrible to have attracted that much attention that quickly. He clutches at his injured shoulder and slides down to the floor with his back against the wall. His energy is draining too quickly.

“Sir? Are you alright?” A nurse is at his side, but Yoongi can’t see her face clearly.

What kind of dumb question is that? Does he look alright to her?

“Doctor Park,” Yoongi wheezes, and breathing becomes more and more difficult. He gulps and clears his throat. “I want Doctor Park.”

“Doctor Park?” The nurse squawks. Seriously, which part of “Doctor Park” does she not understand? “He’s holding a meeting right now, he can’t possibly . . .”

“Tell him it’s Yoongi,” Yoongi rasps. His heartbeat is slowly drowning out all the concerned voices of nurses. He’s not going to stay awake for too long. He blinks rapidly to chase off the sleepiness. “He’ll come.”

“Hey, don’t pass out,” Another nurse says, patting his uninjured cheek gently but urgently. When did Yoongi’s eyes close? “Stay awake, sir . . . someone grab a gurney!”

“Oh my god, Yoongi hyung,” Someone pants from above him, and Yoongi forces his eyes to crack open. He can’t see anything but blurry colors. But it’s Jimin’s voice. Yoongi would recognize Jimin’s voice anywhere, anytime, even when he’s on the edge of losing consciousness. But is his head already messed up, or is Jimin’s voice a little deeper than he remembers?

“You’re going to be alright,” Jimin promises. “You’ll be alright.”

Yoongi lets his eyes close. Jimin will save him. But the familiar voice of the fugitive doesn’t cease to ring in his ears.