The confrontation with Tom Riddle in the warehouse had thrown Hasel and Hermione off-balance. The sight of their most hated enemy, young and eerily familiar, rattled them to the core. Yet, the mission had to continue.
Clara, hardened by a lifetime of clandestine warfare, maintained a laser-like focus. "Riddle's not our concern tonight," she barked, "The artifact comes first. Keep your eyes peeled, and remember, this is Templar territory. They don't play fair."
The Rooks fanned out, their movements sharp and practiced. Despite the distraction, Hasel and Hermione found their footing, the familiar rush of adrenaline fueling their magic. Yet, a nagging unease lingered. The knowledge that Voldemort lurked somewhere in the shadows was a constant, unsettling weight.
As they pressed deeper into the warehouse, the Templar presence became undeniable. No longer mere thugs, these were disciplined fighters, moving in tight formations. More than once, Hasel had to cast a quick disillusionment charm to avoid detection, Hermione whispering swift translations of overheard Latin phrases that hinted at dark rituals and ancient power.
Their objective came into view - a large, metallic sphere resting on a pedestal, guarded by a ring of Templars with ornate crossbows. The air around it crackled with a strange energy, making the hairs on the back of Hasel's neck prickle.
"Piece of Eden," breathed Henry, his eyes wide. He turned to Clara, "What's the plan?"
Clara chewed on her lip, gauging the guards with narrowed eyes. "Distraction, then brute force. Not ideal, but it's all we've got." She divided the Rooks into smaller teams. Hermione and Hasel found themselves paired with a pair of siblings, Jacob and Evie, twins as different as night and day.
Jacob was all booming voice and quick action, but Evie possessed a quiet intensity. "Witches, eh?" she mused, her dark eyes assessing them. "Bit scrawny for fighters, aren't you?"
Hermione flushed, bristling at the comment, but Hasel just shrugged. "Our strength comes in a different form," she replied cryptically.
The plan was simple, almost brutally so. Jacob's team would cause a ruckus on the far side of the room, drawing away most of the guards. While the Templars were distracted, Clara, Evie, and a few others would rush the sphere, with Hasel and Hermione providing magical support from the shadows.
It played out with chaotic precision. Screams and the clash of metal echoed as Jacob's diversion went into effect. Seizing the opportunity, Clara's team surged across the floor. But the Templars were not easily fooled. Several spun away from the staged fight, their crossbows trained on the sphere.
Hasel acted instinctively. She cast a powerful freezing charm, locking the mechanisms of the Templars crossbows. Hermione conjured a thick fog, obscuring the attackers' movements. Yet, the Templars were quick, blades flashing as they cut through the swirling mist, forcing Clara and the Rooks into close combat.
A stray crossbow bolt whizzed past Hermione's ear. The battle had turned into a deadly melee. Templars fell, but so did Rooks. Despite their magic, the sheer physical disadvantage of Hasel and Hermione was painfully clear.
From the corner of her eye, Hasel caught a flash of movement and a familiar, cruel smile. Tom Riddle stood on the periphery of the fight, not engaging directly but picking off the wounded with chilling efficiency. A jolt of rage and fear shot through her as she saw Evie stumble, wounded.
Before she could think, Hasel surged forward, blasting Riddle with a disarming charm. His wand flew from his hand, shock registering on his face. Yet, he was unnervingly quick. He twisted, drawing a wicked-looking dagger from his sleeve and lunging at Hasel.
She stumbled back, her wand knocked aside in the scuffle. Riddle pressed his advantage, his eyes blazing with an intoxicating mix of fury and exhilaration.
"Out of your depth, Potter!" he snarled.
A blast of energy from behind Hasel sent Riddle sprawling. Hermione, her face tight with determination, stood over him, her wand outstretched. The air around them thrummed with volatile magic.
"Leave. Her. Alone." Hermione's voice, normally so measured, cracked with uncharacteristic venom.