Back then, Voldemort had dropped a massive nuclear bomb on New York. If it had gone off as planned, the members of Cabin and the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore, Grindelwald, the American Magical Congress, and nearly ten million people in the city would all have been wiped out.
Except for a few family members and friends Anton had helped make Horcruxes and preserve as life collections, almost no one else could have been saved.
People like Arthur and Molly.
Anton had saved everyone.
But this time, there was no such luck when a terrifying nuclear power plant in central Europe exploded.
It had all happened with startling suddenness. Rookwood had clearly been slower to get the news to Anton than the Daily Prophet.
At breakfast at Hogwarts, owls poured in from every direction, carrying emergency editions of the paper.
"This happened last night!"
Draco stared at the newspaper. Out of habit, he started to share the explosive news with his girlfriend, Pansy, but after glancing around and seeing her nowhere, his face fell. He turned to Anton and told him about it instead.
"Mm, I saw." Anton gnawed on a chicken leg and leaned over to look at the Daily Prophet's front-page headline.
A massive magical photograph filled the center of the paper. A terrifying mushroom cloud was slowly unfurling.
The events were simple enough. A local Auror had discovered traces of the Witch Hunters. Hoping to improve his credentials amid the ongoing changes, the Minister for Magic had kept the discovery under wraps and mobilized the entire department to root out the ignorant Witch Hunters.
So they had guns. So what?
Thermal imaging? So what?
Planes and artillery? So what?
When wizards put their minds to studying Muggle military equipment and figuring out how to counter it, dealing