Imperium - t.r.

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Last Attack

(C/W: This chapter will contain gore and deal with heavy topics. Proceed with caution)

Anastasia ended up spending the night with Jasper, calming the younger boy's emotions enough in order to get him to sleep for a few hours. In return, Anastasia had hardly any sleep either. When they were called before breakfast to the Commander's tent, both of them trudged out in sleep-deprived stupor. Arriving in front of the bright red tent, Jasper clasped Anastasia's hand, gazing at the seal of the Ministry for Magic with a determined and yet scared glare. Anastasia looked at him with furrowed brows, analyzing his expression, but even she could not figure out what he was thinking at that moment.

    "Constantine! De Meath!" a voice called out from inside the tent. "What are you doing out in the cold? Come in, come in!"

    It was a voice they didn't recognize. Fearing the dangers of the frozen north, Anastasia gripped Jasper's hand tighter, signaling him to stay back.

    "Come on in, you two!" Newt sighed.

    Feeling a bit safer, Anastasia tentatively entered the tent with Jasper in tow.

    "You wished to speak with us?" inquired Anastasia. Four men stood around a dark wood table with a map. Newt and Theseus were present on the side furthest to Anastasia and Jasper. Dumbledore stood by the west corner while Minister Spencer-Moon placed opposite the deputy headmaster.

    "Yes, we did," Theseus replied. "I just wanted to let you know that we are planning a raid on Nurmengard tomorrow."

    "Really?" Anastasia said, trying to keep the scoff out of her voice.

    "Is it really so surprising?" Dumbledore asked.

    "Well, when you consider the fact that we've been running from Grindelwald for several months due to an impressive lack of aid, then yes. I suppose it is quite surprising."

    "Anastasia," Newt sighed. "I know you're hurting. Angelo just died–"

    "Just died... three months ago," Jasper mumbled.

    "--just died three months ago," Newt corrected. "We just wanted to let you know, Jasper. You may go if you wish."

    Jasper fidgeted for a moment before tugging on Anastasia's sleeve with a depressive smile. Newt watched as the boy flipped the red fabric of the tent over his shoulder as he made his way out.

    "So, am I free to go too?" Anastasia inquired with an edge.

    "Not exactly," Minister Spencer-Moon said.

    "In order for the raid to have any effect, we need you and your dragons," Theseus sighed. They stood in wait, expecting a sigh or an angry scoff, but instead, the men heard a scathing laugh. As Anastasia stood laughing almost maniacally, the four men shifted on their feet, exchanging inquisitive and confused glances.

    "You people," she chuckled, still feeling the effects of her laughing fit. "You people really have no shame."

    "Anastasia, please," Dumbledore sighed.

    "No!" She stopped him. "I grew up with Angelo, he was a little brother to me... and so is Jasper. Sadie is dead. Angelo is dead. Jeremy... I don't even know what he's doing. And Jasper is worse than I have ever seen him. We're all tired, grieving, recovering, and you have the gall to shove us on the front lines again. Like the good little, child soldiers you want us to be. And you know what? It's bullshit! We're all going to die and you are much too eager for that to happen!"

    "Anastasia, please be reasonable," Theseus urged.

    "I am being reasonable. You want dragons? You want fire? Fine," Anastasia snarled. "But I swear... I swear on my life, my mother's grave, if you don't let us go home after this attack, you'll soon find yourselves slumming with Grindelwald in the ashes."