Chapter 6: To London Town

"They did WHAT?"

Crouch Jr crawled on the floor before his lord, the stump of his missing arm still bloody and exposed from his torn robes.

"My Lord, they overwhelmed us. There were hundreds of goblins supported by traitors and Muggles. I was carried off the field unconsciously against my own will when a goblin hacked my arm off with a blade."

Voldemort turned to glare at Yaxley, who was kneeling beside Crouch. "How could this have happened? Why was I not informed immediately?!"

"My Lord, we came to inform you the moment we knew, but the miserable vermins and their allies struck hard and fast. The few Death Eaters at the Ministry were mostly new recruits and those who had languished in Azkaban. As for the Inferi, it is not surprising they were overcome. Pitiful though as they are, the goblins are fighters."

Voldemort roared in anger, but instead of slaying his valuable servants, he turned and blasted one of his frozen Muggle statues into bloody chucks. The girls in the corner wept and huddled in terror, but Voldemort ignored them. They had already fulfilled their purpose, and were carrying his new, improved path to immortality.

"Get. Everyone. All of our forces. We attack London at once. Our priority is not to retake the Ministry. That place is worthless. No, instead, we will raize the Muggle capital to the ground, destroy their armies, and then slaughter the goblins to the last mewling pup. Understand?"

"Yes my Lord," Yaxley said, rising and hurrying off.

Crouch tried to struggle to his feet, but Voldemort put a hand on his shoulder. The man looked up in terror, but Voldemort gave him a gentle shove down. "I shall heal you myself, Barty. You fought bravely and well. Even I did not forsee the goblin's treachery. You shall rest until it's time for the attack."

"Th-th-thank you, My Lord," Crouch gasped. Then he screamed in pain as a new arm burst forth from his shoulder in a shower of gore. He passed out, and the smooth, pale flesh of the arm sprawled out beside him.

Voldemort was tempted to kick the man for his incompetence, but restrained himself. He pointed his wand at the still whimpering Muggle women, who suddenly stopped as their eyes glazed over.

"Care for him. Feed him, water him, do as he asks. Do not let him mount you, however. I do not take sloppy seconds from anyone."

The breeding bitches moved to comply swiftly and silently, and Voldemort strode out, striding over to the guest apartment on the other end of the manor. He slammed the door open, causing its occupants to gasp in panic. Immediately, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy dropped to the floor, prostrating before their master.

"Mother. Father," Voldemort said in a dry, mocking tone. "The time has come. You must now show your beloved son just how much you love him."

"Your wish is my command...son," Lucius said, choking on the last word and not looking up from the floor.

"We march on the Muggles at once. I have need of every wand. You will stand with me, or you will perish."

Voldemort could hear Narcissa licking her dry lips. "Of course, beloved. Where...where do you command us?"

"London. We shall slaughter their bitch of a queen and lay waste to the populace. Then we return Goblin Town to the refuse it once was. Those foolish creatures have declared war upon their rightful masters. If they shall not serve us, then they shall die. Lucius, you shall be in command of the new recruits. I remember that you have some skills in combat. Narcissa, you shall join the healers. Go at once."

"Yes, my Lord." the Malfoys echoed.

Voldemort nodded, then reached down and hauled Narcissa up, gazing into her face. "You are still fertile, yes?"

Narcissa flinched away, not meeting Voldemort's eyes. "Yes, my...son."

Voldemort nodded, casting her aside to flop onto the ground. "Cease your moping, then. Spawn another brat. Spawn a dozen, and you shall be rewarded. Your son did something great, and has become something beyond what you could have ever dreamed. Continue to mourn and you will be left behind. Go forward in triumph, and you shall be given glory."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said. "We shall...comply."

"Good." With that, Voldemort strode away to prepare his own special magics for the attack.

Once he was gone, however, a house elf popped in to help the Malfoys up.

"Dobby, we have a task for you…"

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Tonks was outside the Ministry, resting in the back of a lorry with the rest of the SAS squad. She was trying to block out visions of bloodstained halls and dead former friends, when there was a sharp crack beside her.

"Eeeep!"

Tonks sprang up, wand in hand, to find Sergeant Prewitt holding a pistol under the jaw of a very frightened house elf.

"Don't be hurting Dobby, Dobby is a friend! Dobby is here to-"

"Shut up before I blow your brains out. Who sent you?" Prewitt demanded.

"Stand down, Sergeant," Tonks ordered. "This is the elf who warned me about the trap at RAF Benson. Dobby, is it?"

Slowly, Prewitt lowered his pistol, but he kept it pointed in the general direction of the elf. The other troopers were up, with weapons ready, scanning the area. Two privates jumped out and took up ready positions.

"Yes, thank you mistress, Dobby is a good elf, a friend! I am here to warn yous! He-Who-Must-Not-Be named is coming! He is bringing all sort of bad wizards and monsters!"

"Coming? Where?" Tonks demanded.

"He is after the Queenie," Dobby said in a whisper, looking around. "He and all his monsters and bad wizards. They is going to kill all Muggles and their queenie, then hes is going to be killing all the goblins! Oh, you must flee, now, before he is coming!"

"Where is the Queen?" Tonks demanded.

"Pindar, unless I miss my guess," Prewitt said. "That's right by Buckingham Palace. Do you think Voldemort knows that?"

"He may," Tonks allowed. "Or some of his followers will. But I wouldn't be shocked if they target the palace first. We'll need to inform command. Dobby, how much time do we have?"

"Not long," Dobby whimpered. "Not long! He is coming soon, very soon! You must flee!"

"Like hell," Tonks snarled. "We will kill Voldemort, we will end this here, now. That's what we aim at. Sergeant, get ahold of command. The rest of you, get this lorry going. We're going to Buckingham Palace."

"Yes ma'am," Prewitt said. He turned to the other soldiers. "You heard the Auror, get moving! You, Benning, get on the radio and inform command we've got a major attack on London."

Dobby grabbed his ears, dancing in panic as the soldiers sprang into action, shouting orders and starting up trucks and radios. "But you cannot stop all the monsters! They is all coming!"

"Doesn't matter. We have to try," Tonks declared. She nodded to Dobby. "Thank you. You may have saved a great many lives, Dobby. Who is your master?"

Dobby looked away. "Young master was killed by You-Know-Who. Dobby is only doing what master says." With that, he suddenly vanished.

Tonks frowned, wondering if this could be a trap. She shrugged. If the information was good last time, it should be good this time. It's too much of a threat to back down now. She sat down as the lorries began to pull away from Whitehall. Time to earn her title.

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The forces Voldemort had assembled were the most powerful magical force the world had seen since the time of the Great Mage Wars in 9th Century, back when the might of African Jeene-Joo clashed with the power of the Inca Empire. In the end, both empires had been severely weakened, and had allowed the rise of European Wizardry as the dominant magical power in Western Hemisphere. Voldemort sought to escape that fate, and unite all of Europe under his banner once he ruled Britain.

Within twelve hours, Voldemort had over 300 giants at his disposal, arrayed in unruly bands on the Malfoy Manor grounds. They were gathered from both the continent and a lone one that had roamed the Scottish Highlands. They were fierce, wild fighters, eager for blood and only restrained from attacking one another by their wizard handlers, who ruthlessly enforced a crude discipline. Even as Voldemort watched, one giantess was beaten down by three wizards for attempting to tear the arm off another giant. She finally relented and rose back to her feet, glaring at the wizard handlers, but not causing more troubles. Voldemort planned to use the giants as shock troops, unleashing them at various points in London and allowing them to sow terror from the ground.

In addition, Voldemort had 164 dragons, 48 of which were saddled and mounted by riders. All European breeds were present, from the common Welsh Green to the vicious Hungarian Horntails that lashed their namesakes through the air in anticipation. For now, the dragons were subdued, but once they were unleashed they would be more a force of nature than an organized group, even more terrible than the fury of the giants. However, thanks to the dragon riders, they could be controlled to a certain degree, and were Voldemort's trump card against Muggle flying machines.

He also had two dozen dementors. These would be closely controlled by auror handlers from Azkaban. Voldemort had not yet unleashed those monsters, as even he feared their destructive potential. The dementors were under control, for now, but if they were allowed to feed and breed unchecked, they could rendered the entirety of the British Isles uninhabitable. Even Voldemort could only drive off or imprison dementors: he had no idea if it was possible to destroy one, and it was rare that one died of starvation or age. The dementors though would be Voldemort's ultimate weapon, as he would unleash them on the Muggle soldiers who were helpless before them.

There were a few other magical creatures among his forces. Three dozen werewolves without wands, a coven of eight vampires, three banshees and a handful of hags. A few redcaps with wicked knives and a thirst for blood also hid at the edges of his ranks. The real prize though was a fully grown manticore which sat patiently at the head of them, its tail dripping venom as it lashed side to side, spilling on the dead grass around it. Its intelligent eyes bored into Voldemort, who felt a kind of kinship with the creature.

And of course, the wizards. The population of magical Britain before the war had begun was about 35000. The number had fallen greatly since then, but Voldemort had 856 wizards and witches under his command. Some of them were rather too young or too old, and many had never seen combat before. His core Death Eaters were only 18 in number now, though if he counted his blooded neophies that number doubled to 34.

He had only a dozen aurors under his command, led by Scrimgeour. A good number were dead or wounded, and more had deserted with Dumbledore, and they had never been numerous to begin with. As for hit wizards, there had always been more of those, but they had been decimated by the attack on the Ministry. Only 23 of them stood ready to fight, but those were grim and determined wizards and witches who knew how to handle themselves in battles. Voldemort had each one of them leading a squad of raw recruits, trusting to their experience to bolster the effectiveness of new bloods. He had a few more mercenaries and experienced fighters to bolster his ranks, but Voldemort knew they would likely pay a terrible price in blood today.

That was fine. Voldemort had never really cared about the wellbeing of his servants so long as they were enough to serve him, nor had he ever truly given a damn about blood politics. His older self might have bought into that lie, but this Voldemort had ever only cared about one thing: Power, and the ability to wield it to satisfy his lust. If it took the deaths of all his servants but left Voldemort sitting atop a throne of skulls, then so be it. He would still have cattles to serve him.

"The Ministry has fallen," Voldemort boomed out to his assembled troops. "The last remnants of the old regime have fallen before the treacherous goblins and those fools who aided them. So far, we have been gentle with the Muggles and their allies. No more."

"We depart for London. Your mission is simple: destroy all Muggle resistance. Capture or slay their pathetic monarch and wipe out her line. Kill their political leaders and slaughter their soldiers. As for others, there is no time to play today. Take no slaves, kill any who resist or get in your way. Do not stop to feast or pleasure yourselves."

"Break their monuments and buildings. Burn their city and foul their waters. Where their infernal machinery is found, reduce it to rust and ash. If you find their defenders, call for the heavy squads to apparate in and annihilate them. We shall break this world of Muggles and build a new one, one where magic reigns supreme!"

There was a course of ragged cheers from the wizards, but the giants bellowed their approval and the manticore roared in pleasure, filling the grounds with the terrible sounds of their anticipation. Voldemort grinned. "Squad leaders, you have your orders. On my signal, we depart. You have ten minutes."

Portkeys were distributed. Enchantments were cast upon robes and weapons. Then, when Voldemort raised the Dark Mark, all vanished together with an ear splitting pop.

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Tonks was sleeping in St James Park in a newly dug trench, along with SAS troops. They were dug in along with the Queen's Royal Hussars and the Coldstream Guards, while overhead the distant roar of jet engines could be heard. To Tonks surprise, the Hussars had not been mounted on horses. Instead, they were equipped with Challenger 2 tanks and Scimitar reconnaissance vehicles. The tanks were hidden amongst the trees, covered by camouflage netting or resting in hastily dug pits that they could easily charge out of.

Without warning, sudden gunfire erupted all around Tonks, and she jerked up, her wand in her hand in a flash as she looked around. The tank engines roared to life, and Tonks was nearly defeated when a nearby Challenger's main gun bellowed. A split second later there was a massive explosion, and Tonks looked around to see why. A dozen giants had appeared in the park, and were being raked with machine gun fire and a fusilade from the tanks' main guns. The poor giants and their handlers had no time to react at all, and before long there wasn't much left of them but red mist and craters.

"Bloody hell, they're here!" Tonks gasped, looking around wildly.

"And there, and a bit over there, and ugh, a bit on me," a soldier next to her said, wiping a bit of gory dirt off his helmet.

"That's not all of them!" Tonks said.

There was scattered fire to her left by the lake, and Tonks turned, going pale. A manticore landed on a trenches there, it's tail lashing about and slaying the poor soldiers. A nearby tank crashed out of the trees, and the manticore jumped on top of it, it's claws raking at the armor as its tail lashed at the treads. Though the beast's attacks were ineffective, they did prevent other tanks from shooting at it for fear of hitting their own. However, nearby surviving soldiers opened up with their rifles, peppering the manticore with bullets. It roared in anger, and Tonks stood up, charging forward and firing off several curses.

Seeing a witch racing toward it, the manticore leapt off the tank and pounced at Tonks, who used a gust of wind to knock herself away from the creature. She landed on her rear, but dropped and rolled away as the beast tail struck at her.

Leaping off the tank unfortunately proved to be manticore's doom. The tank it had just left was completely undamaged by its attacks, and its cannon boomed. The manticore was struck with an HE round, and Tonks was showered in gore and bone fragments. Thankfully, she was already down and covering her face, and suffered no more than being stunned by the proximity of the explosion. Two SAS troopers raced over and grabbed Tonks, hauling her back to cover.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," one said, looking around.

Tonks shook her head, unable to hear anything but the ringing of her own ears. She raised her wand in a trembling hand and cast a few spells while morphing her eardrums back into shape.

"What did you say?" Tonks said, slumping at the bottom of the trench.

"Wasn't too bad," the trooper repeated. "We took care of them alright."

"It's not over," Tonks groaned, forcing herself onto her feet. Nearby, the sound of gunfire echoed, and the roars of giants could be heard. "We got lucky. That group appeared right in our kill zone. Not all buggers will be this unlucky."

"The palace is under attack!" an officer shouted. "They've appeared all over the city! All units, move to engage the enemy."

Tonks grimly raised her wand. "With me! We fight that Dark fucker and kill him!"

Buckingham Palace was burning. The front of the palace had been smashed as ten giants bowled their way in, reducing its front gates to rubble as they plowed forward. Two tanks had been guarding the entrance, and one had been literally ripped to shreds by the giants, its turret torn clean off. The other had been flipped over and smashed.

However, the giants had not done this without heavy losses. Only three giants were still alive, now inside the palace and rapidly destroying its lavish halls. Twenty soldiers lay dead, hexed by wizards or smashed by giants. Tonks led her squad forward into the rubble, climbing over the bodies of the fallen.

Seeing a giant ahead, bent over as it smashed its way further into the palace, Tonks raised her wand and let it fly with blasting hexes, headless of the damage they might cause to her surroundings. The troopers seemed to feel the same way, several chucking grenades at the giant while others opened fire with their rifles. The giant bellowed in pain and rage as the spells and projectiles hit, and it tried to spin around to attack. However, several soldiers jumped out from the doorway it had been assaulting, firing their own guns at it. With a groan, the giant fell, shattering a dozen priceless relics as it did so.

"There's more that way!" one of the soldiers coughed, clutching at a wet spot on his left side and pointing back the way Tonks and her squad had come. "Wizards and giants both!"

Tonks spun about, following the sounds of further fighting. They had to climb over another fallen giantess, who was clutching the broken mashed remains of two soldiers in her hands, dead by the wounds her victims had inflicted. Just past that they found four figures in dark robes firing spells down a hall, while a wounded giant crashed through walls to reach at the soldiers behind them.

Tonks conjured oil, spraying down the hallway with a slick film. The enemy wizards turned to fire back at Tonks, who ducked away.

"Fire, light them up!" Tonks ordered.

A soldier tossed an incendiary grenade into the hall, which was soon filled with flames and screams. The Death Eaters who survived tried to conjure shields, but the heat of the flame forced them back, into the waiting barrels of another squad of defenders. Things turned into a brief, bloody brawl, and the two Death Eaters took down ten soldiers, but in the end they lay dead and bleeding on the ground.

With them out of the way, Tonks and her squad raced through the shattered walls of the palace after the last giant. This one was smaller than the others, only about 20 feet tall. However, it still had the wild, magical strength of its kind, and could break through masonry with ease. Tonks found it hammering at a stair case to get at a squad of soldiers who were firing at it from above. The giant's blows were weakening though; blood rain from dozens of wounds all over its body.

Feeling a sense of pity for the brutish creature, Tonks raised her wand and sent several cutting curses at the giants legs. It fell, and the soldiers fired mercilessly at the prone brute, who struggled to rise in its hands, only to slump back down, bleeding and broken. Tonks let out a gasp of relief, and struggled to catch her breath.

"Ma'am, you need to see this," one of the surviving soldiers from the Death Eater brawl called, coughing and choking on the thick black smoke that was filling the air.

Tonks ran back, using spells to snuff out the flames before they could spread any further. She hurried over to the fallen Death Eaters, which the surviving soldiers had rolled over.

"No masks, no marks," a soldier with corporal stripes said, pointing to them. "This was a diversion."

"Shit. They're after the bunkers," Tonks groaned. "I just hope Snape and Molly can keep her Majesty safe until we get there. Come on!"