Harry and Dorian Fungbury sat their brooms in silence and stillness, awaiting the signal. Behind them, Nienna's broom jittered a little from side to side, exhibiting the tension the teen was too proud to show on her face. She was ready to dash off in any direction at orders from Harry. Harry was determined that no order he could give was going to get her any closer to the anomaly than she was right now.

  The nine other Aurors were spread in two's and three's around the perimeter of the no-go zone. Harry had tasked Proudfoot to assign teams, and he was quite pleased having Dorian paired with him. Not only was he an experienced duellist, he was developing contacts in the burgeoning illegal beast trading circles. Harry could see that being very useful in the near future. If Dorian had a fault, it was a tendency to prattle on, but he restrained it severely when on duty.

  Harry could tell that Nienna was dying to bend Dorian's ear about his Ministry Duelling experiences, but she was a professional, too, in her own way.

  Harry had reclaimed his watch, and he was resisting the impulse to check it every few seconds. The Head Auror has to set an example, after all.

  They had eased forward until they were as close in as they could stand. Harry could see beads of sweat starting up on Dorian's forehead and face, but not a twitch otherwise. Good man, thought Harry.

  Suddenly, off to their left, a LIGHT shone under the clouds. It was acting like no light Harry was familiar with, though. Instead of just illuminating the clouds, like a spotlight would, it was seeping into them. The currents of air Harry had noticed through his SpectreSpecs were being dyed with the colour of magic. The billows that defined the cloud shapes were glowing brighter as they drew on the currents running past them. Colour was spreading in fits and starts, gradually making the cloud mass a three-dimensional work of art, layers upon layers.

  There was a cloud current that passed under their position, with the light gradually spreading along it. When it reached the area defined by the lights surrounding the anomaly, the colour of magic abandoned the current of air to start spreading out. It took only moments for Harry to recognize that it was defining the surface of a globe, centered on the anomaly. He looked up to see another current feeding magic into the globe shape from above, and another below him. A patch of sky on the opposite side of the globular lights defining the forbidden zone began to glow and spread as well.

  The spreading patches began to join, merging seamlessly. The uncovered areas diminished rapidly. When the last one was subsumed in the colour, there was a pause. The currents kept feeding into the globe, which grew denser, if not brighter. Harry could still see through it clearly, more clearly than through the clouds that had blocked their sight til now.

  As the density grew, the globe began to contract. As it contracted, Harry felt a lessening of the aversion that had kept him from progressing past this point. Certain that Nienna was watching him, he made signs with one hand. Message to Assault Element. Go Invisible. Close in. Slow. Careful. Attack If Discovered. Loud.

  He heard the 520 whisper away as he pulled his Invisibility Cloak up over his head. He and Dorian crept up on the shrinking globe of magic. The inner surface of the globe ruffled and swirled in place, as if something were resisting its inexorable progress.

  They were able to see much more clearly as the effect progressed. The inner shape was indeed a dodecahedron, roughly two meters in diameter. It was a framework of carved wood, surrounding a smaller, solid dodecahedron roughly the size of a Quaffle. Each facet of the outer geometric shape was criss-crossed with cords and ropes, reminiscent of those produced by the Incarcerous spell. They didn't block sight of the interior, but there was a glow of magic on the ropes.

  They were less than twenty meters from the spherical light sources. The magic globe was within ten meters, and seemed to be slowing. Harry was scanning the surrounding area, trying to find signs of guards or monitors.

  Closer. Closer. When the magic was within about a meter and a half of the lights, they began to pulse, wavering from bright to dim and back. The pulsing began to speed up.

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  From inside the area defined by the lights, a space about twenty meters across, someone spoke. "Grazdov, are you seeing this?" It was a woman's voice, a bit posh, perhaps, but Harry couldn't tell if it was natural or put on. Harry froze, waiting to see if she if was just referring to the light, or if the magic had somehow become visible to people without access to SpectreSpecs.

  "Da," came a reply. "This is not normal?" A man's voice, with a thick accent, off to Harry's left.

  Another man spoke from above Harry's level, "No, it bloody well is not. The only time I have seen the lights act like that is when the ambient magic is too high." This man's voice was definitely posh, and definitely fake.

  Harry could not see any of the tell-tale signs of invisibility or concealment magic in the places the voices were coming from. Perhaps the area defined by the lights is shielded somehow? he wondered.

  "What should we do, then?" Another woman's voice. How many of them are in there? Harry thought, exasperated. This one continued, "Should we let a couple of the Eaters out, balance the magic that way?"

  "Definitely not." This clipped, business-like voice seemed to emerge from the space above the outer dodecahedron. "Until we know what is causing this, the Eaters must stay contained. If one of them gets loose, and gets caught, we'll have every magical faction in the world down on our heads."

  The globe of magical energy was still contracting, but more and more slowly, as if it was getting some pushback from the lights.

  The accented man said, "Ve should haf been relieved by now. Vhat is goink on down there?"

  Fake Posh Man said, "No worries, old boy. I dispatched Madeleine down there to give them a bit of a reminder."

  Possibly Posh Woman snapped, "As long as she doesn't start dive-bombing the Nifflers again..."

  Just then, the light nearest Harry started to sizzle and spark. Though his Specs, Harry saw it was actually in contact with the magic of the globe. It appeared that the light was absorbing the magic and overloading. It flared, then sparks of lightning would discharge the excess, only to discharge too much, and dim out.

  As the light dimmed, Harry saw the shadow of a figure on a broom just ahead of him. Cloaked and cowled, it faded as the light became bright again.

  The clipped voice spoke forcefully. "That's enough! Everyone, pull your lights into the closing positions! They're too hard to reinforce, spread out like this."

  "We'll lose our sight mask," warned a voice from the other side of the box.

  "We'll lose a sight more than that!" Clipped Voice snarled. "If more than a few of the lights go out, we'll lose containment. Do it! And prepare the Isolation Tank. If the ambient magic is out of balance, we'll have to abort and try another night."

  The lights began floating toward the center structure. As they did, figures on brooms began coalescing out of nowhere. Oh..., crap, Harry thought. Were they packed in there like sardines? Eight. Eleven. Sixteen?

  Sixteen.

  A burly figure to Harry's left began weaving side to side on his broom, apparently glad to be out of his enforced stillness. "Mamka mu, tova e super! My butt vas goink to sleep." He wove across the face of the globe of magic, and jerked back as if he had been shocked. "Po dyavolite! There is magic here! Much magic!"

  He waved his arm out, and jerked it back again.

  The man with the clipped voice flew over, saying, "You're sure, I assume." He extended his arm into the same space, and bowed his head under his cowl, trying to feel what the other had.

  "Da," the accented man said. "It is why I am recruit, yes? Magic I can feel, strong veak, vhatever.."

  Just then, another voice was heard, approaching from below.

  "I say, old man, we're in a spot of bother!"

  "I say, old chap, we're in a bit of a pickle!"

  "I say, old boy, we're in a touch of a bind!"

  "I say, old top, we're in a tight corner!"

  An extremely large and very agitated magpie flew up out of the clouds, and settled on one of the broom riders' shoulders. "I say, old bean, we're right up against it!"

  "Madeleine, old girl, what's the kerfuffle?' Fake Posh Man said.

  "I say, old egg...!"

  "Maggie! Use your words!" The bird flapped its wings frantically, beating the man over his cowl.

  "Aurors!" she squawked, in a much less cultured voice. "Auror attack! Out of nowhere! Giant waving magic fire! Nifflers going crazy! Attackers Apparating everywhere!"

  "Apparating?" the man with the clipped voice grunted. He disappeared with a hiss sound, appearing next to the man with the magpie. "Apparition isn't blocked! Get the Eater's Cage in the Tank! Get going before they find us!"

  "Find us?" Fake Posh squawked just like his magpie. "'Ow kin they bloody find us?"

  So much for posh. Harry decided he wasn't going to get a better line than that. He whipped off his Invisibility Cloak and stuffed a fold into his dimensional pocket. The pocket efficiently hoovered the rest in. Harry eased forward until he was in contact with the still contracting magic.

  "'Ow did we find yer?" Harry mimicked the accent. All the cowls turned toward him. Harry shrugged.

  "We followed the Magic."

  Then, casually, "Incarcerous Aurous."