Hogwarts: Year Seven - A New Age [IC/OPEN]

[Arlye Austros]

Amelia Grenwald.
The Ministry of Magic

Contrary to what she herself expected, the fact that he called her by her last name caused in Amelia a sudden outburst of laughter, one that she didn’t manifest and successfully contained without any other gesture than a slight, short-lived smirk, but which caused her chest to compress her ribs for a fraction of a second.
Instead, Amelia focused on Isolde. Would she put her daughter in harm’s way? She wanted to get back at Avery for what he did to her. It was about her. But would her current scheme put her any close to that. She wasn’t interested in a regime change, which is what Lucas even seemed to suggest. She wanted to harm Avery.
But she had read the files. She saw what the trial was like. It was unfair. Her face now reflected a cold attitude. Not one of calculation and preparation, but one of disgust. At whom? Not even Amelia would dare say.
“Tell me… When the trial was set on the Foresters, did the High Lord intend for a specific sentence? Did he ever say if he wanted them dead? Gone? Vanished?”
But before he could answer Amelia kept the silence in the room, raising her hand and gesturing him to wait to answer. “Let me add something there? Would the same wish befall the little one at Hogwarts, should he have been there?”

Isolde.
Cardiff

She had given David the signals to use the Floo Network. Except it didn’t lead directly to her chimney. She didn’t have one. Instead, Isolde awaited in the lower floor of the hospice she was staying in. there was barely anyone there, and she drank a mug of butterbeer while staring at the newspaper, gazing at the embers every few minutes. Then she checked the clock on a wall, it marked the hour he was supposed to arrive.
Like clockwork. There was a green blaze, and once the flames receded the shadows materialized around and behind David. Isolde smiled, sitting at the table closest to the chimney.

“Welcome to Cardiff.” She said with an overly-acted tone resembling that of a flight attendant. “Capital amongst long-named towns and first stop to Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.” She said, luckily nailing the pronunciation after a while practicing and de-rusting her Welsh. "Care to have a drink?" She said without getting up, but broadly smiling.

[United Democratic Christian States]

David

Stepping out into the Welsh (pub? lobby? thing that is not a hospice I hope?) building and was instantly greeted by Isolde and whatever the fuck she said in Welsh.

"Van what now?' David said with a chuckle in his Cockney accent. "Please don't make me repeat that Luv"

"and yes I'd fancy a butterbeer." he finished before taking a seat next to his girlfriend

"You know, I don't think I have ever been to Wales before." David said matter of factly.

[Miekzhemy]

Lucas Ackerley

The auror blinked as, for a moment, Amelia outright laughed at what he was saying. But if he was confused by her reaction, he certainly didn't show it. He shifted in the chair, seemingly assuming a more comfortable position, and waited patiently for her to finish speaking. He pursed his lips in thought of he Foresters' trial.

"To be honest," he answered. "I'm not entirely sure."

"The Foresters...they have a reputation - a poor one. At least, in the aristocracy, that is. Dig deep enough and you'll find that much of these archaic blood feuds go way back. It's a ceaseless battle of mudslinging that can stem back generations. The Malfoys, Glacies, Greys... Even the Averys are no exception. For years they called them blood traitors. Even as their "influence" waned and their lands shrank to little more than a single estate."

"And suddenly, with Grey holding no less than absolute power, an incriminating letter sent by that old Harold Forester is intercepted in the middle of a civil war. This is wild speculation, mind you, but I believe they were just looking for a reason to do them in."

Lucas sighed, and shook his head. "Now, if it wasn't obvious already, the Highlord and Avery desire one thing: control. It's why the Foresters are practically under house arrest. It's why Harold was summarily executed with a lousy excuse of a trial. It's why Darkenstone was imprisoned with a lousy excuse of a trial. I'm surprised Lockwood hasn't yet disappeared for calling them out on that, but Darkenstone is a rather touchy subject as of late..."

"But I digress," he cleared his throat. "For William's son Derek to come out relatively unscathed surprises me. But if memory serves, with their estate being under de facto ownership of the Averys, he's likely more of a puppet to them as your own daughter. Cordelia probably has him cutting the grass with scissors as we speak."

[Skylus]

Derek Forester, Glacies Estate

It had been three weeks since he had awoken in the cottage garden. Not much had changed; both Tim Dirk and Spartacus seemed to delight in tormenting him, and he continued to work out of pure spite. He was happy that he got away with various sabotage methods, though he didn't risk risk being more injured than he was, so he stopped sabotaging after the 22nd day of working. Yesterday had been the very, very rare occurrence of both men not taking their anger out on him and they were saying something about "the Ministry killing the Death Eaters". Derek had managed to get his hands on a copy of the Daily Prophet and had found it to be true. He hadn't spoken once since the first day he started working, and every now and then, he wondered if he would ever talk again.

Today though, Spartacus was relentless. Derek had narrowly avoided dying to an arrow, fired by the man as Derek was walking in front of him, which had alerted a Selkie who had run off. Derek suspected Spartacus had wanted to kill the Selkie and as the man continued to yell at him, something in his head snapped.

Derek whirled around and decked Spartacus; as the man dropped like a stone, the Gryffindor took a step back towards the woods, then started running.

---

He quickly became very lost, and as the day progressed he still kept running, stopping every now and then to try to get his bearings, before taking off again. Derek eventually found himself in a clearing by a river, with more woods visible on the other side of the riverbank. There was a fallen tree that spanned both sides, it seemed sturdy enough, yet Derek still took his time crossing the tree and then took off running again once he was on the other side of the river.

Night eventually fell and he became even more lost. He finally stopped running and fell to rest against a massive tree, looking up at it's branches and the stars above. After thinking about it, Derek went wolf to try to preserve body heat and tightly curled up against the tree's trunk, but yet he didn't sleep the entire night.

[Arlye Austros]

Amelia Grenwald.
The Ministry of Magic.

She nodded silently, but didn’t reply. Amelia guessed he was right. Family, it was always about family. A bunch of families seemed to dislike one in particular. They turn on it. Then one gains absolute power. She was herself acting on familial impulse. But now her motives were slightly different. “You know what happened was not right, Lucas. I am not asking your permission to topple the jar off the table because the flowers have gone sour. I am just willing to clean the table from some petals.” She replied after a while of thinking of a parabolic way of saying it. “You know that our current standing is not the best. I understand it can’t be fixed in a day. I don’t intend to. I just want to right one of its wrongs.” She sighed again after saying this. Then she raised her wand.

“But I am being a bit inconsiderate…” After whipping the air with it, the wand produced a set of white tea cups, which floated before her. One started filling itself with warm liquid. “Tea?” She offered after it was done and the next began filling instead. “I can assure you no harm has been done to anyone to this date. I have no intention of extending my will beyond what’s necessary. Once its done, I will simply retire.”

Isolde Grenwald.
Cardiff.

She passed him a mug after it magically floated to their table. “Cheers!” She said grabbing it but planted a kiss in his mouth while putting the mug before him. It was somewhat liberating. For a second even William Darkenstone faded from her mind.
“I really missed you.” She smiled at him. “How’s your family?”
She was just willing to chit-chat. They gave Isolde a spare day to spend with David. The bald man didn’t care terribly, and said he could make do without her for a day, hiring a House Elf to do the delivery, but she would have to work doubly the next day. Working in a place were news were printed small talk offered a strange form of relief. “Mine was visiting just days ago.”


Ricardo.
London

His first day of freedom was strange. After weeks in St. Mungo, Ricardo was finally able to keep his demons at bay. The voices were just rumors he could distinguish from reality, and visions weren’t coming anymore. As long as he kept drinking the potion. However that first day was for something else entirely.

He visited Madame Linue. It was nice to see her, and she told him of the wand she sent.
“I owled Madame Pomfrey some days after. They still don’t know if the next year will resume.”
“I hope so.” He replied. But he couldn’t figure out if he did so for himself or just for a sense of normalcy. “It’s not fair that the school has to close down because of one carried-off fellow.”
She chuckled. “Oh, it won’t. That castle has endured worse things. It will come back. Maybe changed, for sure.”
But did he want to go back? Ricardo couldn’t ignore the feeling that his chapter at Hogwarts was over. “Maybe it is something else I need to do.” He mumbled when the lady was at the kitchen, bringing some china for tea. Her voice replied.
“What now?”
“Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself.”


He visited an apothecary in Diagon Alley, then headed back to St. Mungo after realizing that drained almost the remainder of Christian’s gift. It wouldn’t take long before he run broke.
“It was good to stretch my legs.” He told Andrew, whom he crossed in a hallway on his way back to the Third Floor. They deemed his condition no longer permanently-crippling, so for the time being, Ricardo was staying in the Lancelot’s Ward at the third floor, with constant sampling of his blood being made to check the levels it had been affected by the Soulstirr potion. The prospect of having his arm bloodlet again didn’t appeal to him a bit. But at least he had learn a lot about how poison and study of blood worked. Ricardo sighed. “Some vacations…”
But his mind was increasingly set. The possibility of heading back home captivated him, and Ricardo already had plans laid out. He was good at apparating, so he could get there in time. Once his blood was healthy enough again and he perfected the medicine that worked the best on him he would decide what to do.

[Britanania]

Glacies Estate

Whilst Derek and Cordelia spoke in the drawing-room, Caitie was out riding one of her horses around the grounds of the estate. It had only been her first day back, and Caitie meant to spend as much time as possible away from her aunt as she could. As the young woman was coming back around towards the main manor house, she watched as one of the servants led what appeared to be Derek towards the stables.

Well, that is queer, Caitie thought as she approached the manor house and dismounted. One of the servants took the reins of the horse and made his way towards the stables as Caitie entered the house. As she made her way through the halls heading towards the bed-chamber, Cordelia caught sight of her through an open door and sent one of the House Elves to bring Caitie to her aunt. Caitie sighed and acquiesced.

"I am told you are going on a trip, Caitlin," Cordelia said flatly. Caitie stood motionless, still holding her crop.

"I am, Aunt Cordelia, I leave tomorrow. It was suggested, given the utter stress from yesterday."

"Ah, yes, it must have been a harrowing experience."

"Is that all, Aunt Cordelia?"

"Yes, that will be all, Caitlin." Cordelia motioned that her niece had her leave. Stiffly, Caitie turned and again made her to her own quarters.

---

Three Weeks Later

Spartacus reported the incident with Derek immediately. Avery and Cordelia were in the saloon of the manor, and the Headmaster and his wife took the news rather calmly. Avery put his dinner napkin down and sighed.

"He cannot have gotten far," he said somewhat exasperated. "Send a small group to the cottage and search the place, he might have gone home. Close off the rest of the grounds and send the hunting dogs after him. I shall be out in an hour to search myself, have my horse ready."

[Skylus]

Derek

Just before dawn, twelve howls resounded through the woods and a lone wolf leapt from the tree he had been sheltering under and started to run, leaping over fallen logs and dodging boulders, tripping occasionally as the howls drew closer and closer. Derek wondered how they were catching up to him until he stopped in a clearing and spun in a circle as the howls seemed to be all around him - they had circled around and had snared him in their trap.

He didn't have to wait long for them to show up - twelve in all. To his shock, he recognized Gladus among them and as the head Boarhound leapt at him, the wolf ducked, causing the dog to sail over him and land in the grass.

"Gladus, what are you doing?" Derek paced back and forth before the other dogs, his head low, eying the Boarhound that had practically raised him.

"I have a new master now." The warmth that had been previously there was gone and as the Boarhound bent down, then leapt at Derek, the wolf tried to dodge, but then he was tackled from behind and pinned down as Gladus' jaws closed around his throat. "He said to bring you back alive."

It was silent for a few seconds, then the wolf roared as he surged upwards, feeling the dog's fangs cut into his throat as he threw Gladus backwards and spun around to face the other dog, then killed it with a bite to the head. As the one Boarhound dropped, Gladus darted forwards and Derek raked claws down the dog's side, then jumped back as Gladus lunged at him.

They ducked and weaved around each other for what seemed like hours, until Derek saw an opening and ended up with his fangs around the dog's throat, he froze, feeling the movement of the dog's breaths and almost let go. "No. He's going to kill me. Forget everything good about him, it's either me or him that dies." And so with a heavy heart, the wolf bit down, then ripped out the Boarhound's throat and watched as his friend fell to the ground, dead, Gladus' blood running down his throat and chest as the wolf lifted his head and stared down the remaining dogs.

---

The standoff ended in a chase. They forced Derek to go back the way he came, yet he stopped once he reached the river and refused to cross the fallen tree. A dog slipped and fell into the river and was swept away, while the other dogs watched in horror. Their distraction was Derek's benefit, as he was able to grab one by the leg and fling it into the river as well, then bit one in the stomach and left it to die as he raced south along the riverbank, turning back every now and then to fight the remaining seven dogs.

[Miekzhemy]

Lucas Ackerley

He listened silently to what Amelia had to say. Though she hardly seemed to be changing her mind, she clearly knew the risks she was taking. With her conjuring of tea, he pondered the offer for a moment, but eventually deigned to welcome it, holding out one of his folded hands. "Thank you," he said, allowing one of the cups of tea to float into the palm of his hand.

"I've considered the same thing myself," Lucas said. "But I've likely made myself too valuable an asset for the Highlord to allow me to simply resign..."

He promptly drank much of the tea in one go - almost as if he hadn't quenched his thirst in days. After a short and tired breath, he continued. "But nonetheless, I implore you to tread carefully, if only for the sake of your daughter. They've suffered through more than enough of this rubbish, all of them."

The auror took a brief glance at the watch on his wrist, before he promptly stood up and grabbed his cloak.

"Well, with that all said, I have a hunt to conduct. Greyback isn't going to capture himself, after all." He placed the now empty teacup on her desk. "Do try to stay out of trouble, yes?"

[Britanania]

Glacies Estate

The party found the bodies of five of the dogs a few hours after dawn, massacred, by what appeared to be a large wolf. Avery soon arrived on the scene and dismounted to inspect their remains.

"It was Forester," he said with a dejected sigh. "He turned into his animagus formed, clearly. The boy must have panicked when he saw the dogs and would have run to..." Avery stood and walked a little bit aways towards the river. "He likely used the river to escape. He could be anywhere now, but I know how we can snuff him out." Avery returned to his horse and mounted animal along with the rest of the party. The remaining dogs were quickly healed and escorted back to their pens.

"Send for the aurors at once," he ordered once of the servants. At that, Avery and the rest of the party galloped back towards the cottage and created a large bonfire.

[Skylus]

Glacies Estate

The party found the bodies of five of the dogs a few hours after dawn, massacred, by what appeared to be a large wolf. Avery soon arrived on the scene and dismounted to inspect their remains.

"It was Forester," he said with a dejected sigh. "He turned into his animagus formed, clearly. The boy must have panicked when he saw the dogs and would have run to..." Avery stood and walked a little bit aways towards the river. "He likely used the river to escape. He could be anywhere now, but I know how we can snuff him out." Avery returned to his horse and mounted animal along with the rest of the party. The remaining dogs were quickly healed and escorted back to their pens.

"Send for the aurors at once," he ordered once of the servants. At that, Avery and the rest of the party galloped back towards the cottage and created a large bonfire.

Derek

The wolf watched Avery and the hunting party leave the opposite bank from under a bush, then waited until he knew they had gone back to the estate, then left the bush, trotted across the fallen log, then stopped as he smelled something on fire. Derek's blue eyes focused on the trail of smoke and followed it upwards a bit, then determined where the fire was to be....

The transformed Gryffindor felt his heart drop and he started running full speed towards the cottage, he eventually broke the tree line and -

- Stopped.

It wasn't the cottage that was on fire, it was merely a massive bonfire near the cottage, and the group was waiting for him. Derek froze for a second, eyes locked with Avery, hesitated, then made a run for it, away from the group, hopefully back into the woods.

[Arlye Austros]

Amelia Grenwald.
The Ministry of Magic.

She smiled at Ackerley’s remark. “It’s amazing that guy’s been on the run so long. Good hunting I suppose.” She stood up and opened the door for him. “And don’t worry, I will make sure of it.” She said without giving any hint of the nature of their conversation. Amelia watched as Lucas crossed the door and thought what needed to be done now. Fact being she couldn’t turn back now. But the least she could do was make sure it worked just fine.

After Lucas left she had Judge Mior check the location of the Foresters. Using the Imperius Curse like that and for so long was becoming increasingly taxing on her mind, and she was tired. The soon she was done with it, obliviated the Judge and had the Foresters vanish, the better.
They were on the Ministry, doing menial jobs. At least she could secure their release to be clean. She would have to wait a bit longer. Just a bit.


Ricardo.
St. Mungo.


He couldn’t sleep. He had decided to do it. To go back and at least find out what became of everyone. Something happened in his mind that afternoon that made him realise he would be gone soon. He couldn’t quite tell what. Ricardo walked out of the ward, and told the Healer in charge of the Third Floor he would be taking a stroll. He had been well-behaved, so at least they gave him enough freedom. It wasn’t long before dawn. The medicine was working fine, and whatever vestige of his paranoia and delusion his mind naturally kept it controlled.
She was asleep. Everyone was asleep. Ricardo watched Guinivere as she slumbered.
She had tried a spell he had encouraged her to learn. In the middle of it all it backfired. It was, in the end, his fault that she was blind and that she wasn’t able to defend herself from the Cruciatus Curse.

“I can’t blame myself for you for my entire life, Gin…” He muttered, then withdrew to a corner in the darkness. Rachel on the other hand was also asleep. Strout said she would recover soon, and would have to get used to her new leg. Ricardo remained there looking at the place he knew Rachel laid, but thought about all that happened that day. He had to do something.

Right before dawn the boy returned to the Third Floor, and asked some paper to write a letter.
“For whom, if you don’t mind me asking?” A Healer called Cole wondered as he handed him what he asked for mere minutes later.
“Just a guy I need to write to.”
It was the day before his release.

Raphael.
I hope this letter finds you well. I am fairly sure getting over what happened last month is as hard for you as it’s been for everyone. At least I seem to be better, I will be leaving St. Mungo soon. Wish I could say the same about Rachel, but I still believe she can recover.
I have been thinking about what happened that day in the lavatories. I am not proud of what I did and realise it should have been different. But if it helps, I now understand better the nature of a spell that I hope will save lives, and I got to thank you for it. I don’t know if I will return to Hogwarts, so I write before it’s too late to say I am sorry and thank you for your help. I hope for you the best, and for everybody else. Hopefully this will be a regular year for everyone.

Best regards. Ricardo.

He hesitated several times while writing it. But finally Ricardo decided it was enough. He walked to Cole and handed him the letter.
“Should I read it and check the grammar?”
“Don’t you dare. Just send it, would you?”
The Healer chuckled. “Aye, aye, capt’n.”

[Britanania]

Glacies Estate: near the Cottage


As Derek locked eyes with his Headmaster, the rest of the hunting party came out from all sides to cut the wolf off from his attack. Avery, still on his horse, fired off a single spell that transformed Derek back into his human form. Meanwhile, the other members of Avery's party fired off their own spells that trapped Derek in a bind of ropes and chains, thus preventing any further escape.

The Headmaster dismounted and walked over to where the down student was and knelt near him as he shook his head.

"You should not have run, Mr Forester," he said with a disappointed look. As he stood up and made his way back towards the horse, the aurors finally arrived. Avery nodded and gestured.

"He is all yours," Avery said as he remounted the horse and made his ride back towards the manorhouse.

[Skylus]

Derek, Glacies Estate, near the cottage

The Auror in question, Daniel Haverbouch, nodded to Avery as the man went back to the manor house. The crowd dispersed as the aged Auror walked over to Derek and looked down at him. "Causing trouble again, are you? i'll have you know that your dad wasn't this reckless. I...I have orders to take you to the office at the ministry. Under somewhat normal circumstances, I would unbind you and allow you to make yourself presentable, but they need evidence..."

Before Derek could begin to think of a reply, Haverbouch helped Derek upright, steadied him, then grabbed his arm and vanished.

---

The two appeared in the Ministry of Magic, in the middle of the entrance hall. Haverbouch flashed a badge that said "Elder Auror" to anyone who came over to yell at him for appearating and they quickly walked away, allowing the man to lead Derek to the Auror's office, the Gryffindor occasionally tripping from the binds as he silently followed Havebouch into the room, where the man closed the door and leaned against it, preventing Derek from leaving. "I brought him to you, just as you asked."

[World Anarchic Union]

William-Henry
Collab with Anarcho-Syndicalist Communes

An afternoon sun shone through the heavy clouds, illuminating the forest below. Among the trees, near a lake that formed at the base of a series of hills, someone overlooking the crowded forest area could perhaps see a series of smoke clouds barely reaching the top branches of the trees around, before dissolving into the air. A small fire indicated a presence, that someone was staying there. But few would choose to live so deep into the forest, far away from any sign of life. Unless one was hiding.

He wore a simple black shirt, cut in places, and his left hand was still bandaged, where once a dark shape existed now only burnt skin remained. The pain rang still from time to time. He seemed paler, weaker, as the lack of food since Azkaban, his injuries from the battle and his tiredness were impacting his well-being. His wand was laying near him, although he hadn’t used it since the battle that now seemed so far away. He was hiding because he knew the traitors were hunting for him, like bloodhounds. And he had no illusion of what his fate would be if he fell to their hands. He winced at the thought. Attacking Hogwarts, destroying Azkaban and freeing its imprisoned, killing so many, William Darkenstone knew only torture and death awaited him.

He had been hiding for a while, barely using his wand for the fear of being tracked. Fenly was helping him still, careful for no one to find her master but William could understand she was uneasy and scared of him, disapproving of his actions in the castle. He knew he needed her, and that she had saved him again and again, but the new plan developing in his mind had no room for the Elf to stay alive.

He hadn’t left his hideout for days, when he finally decided to hunt. He had seen a small campsite of three or four tents was nearby, equipped with food he needed. It wasn’t difficult to approach the site, much less ransack it. The food was appreciated, as was the satisfaction of seeing Muggles fall to the ground in pain, and in seconds motionless. Their bodies were nearby, his thoughts starting to delve around the Inferi once more.

The fire cackled, bringing him back to the present. He prepared his meal, waiting for it to be done, getting lost in his thoughts once more. He remembered the sounds, the yells, the cries, he could see the dead around him, laying on the floor of the Main Hall and the Dungeons. He remembered how his Ravencloaks struck at the defenders of Hogwarts, how his army of the undead broke the lines of students as more and more fell to the ground, never to get up again. He remembered how he fought, how he fell, how he was betrayed. Their names only brought forth rage in his mind. Forester, Salgado, Ackerley, Raymond, Grenwald. Traitors and cowards. And of course, him. The friend who stabbed him in the back, destroying everything. He could see the boy like he was in front of him, he could feel the burning sensation as intense as back then. The dark wizard couldn’t understand why he hadn’t killed him then, when he had the chance. He wished Anton had died from the torture he had inflicted on him, but inside him he knew he was still alive.

Revenge was constantly on his mind, against them, against Anton, against Hogwarts in large. Imagining the destruction of the castle only brought him an intense feeling of pleasure and contentment. But before all that, he had to return to his hideout in the Forbidden Forest. The dagger was still there, and he had to have it in his possession as soon as the circumstances allowed him to. He was hatching up a new plan, it was constantly on his mind ever since his failure and escape, when he heard the rustle of leaves behind him. Swiftly he grabbed his wand with his good hand and pointed it towards the source of the sound.

“Who’s there? Whoever you are, you have made a grave mistake coming here, friend.”

Henry stepped out of the woods, a cloak seemingly made of pure silver hanging off of his shoulders. He didn't appear immediately threatening. "Nice place you've got here Will."

William looked surprised at first at the sight of the figure in front of him. He didn’t lower his wand as he took quick glances around to see if the wizard had brought anyone else with him.
“Long time no see Henry. You must have searched a lot to find me before your father’s lapdogs. Unless they sent you to take me down?”

Henry walked forward and pulled up a log, sitting down on it, before he said "Nah, I'm doing this on my own time. They're all out undercover in places like Poland and Belarus. 'No way he's still in the country' they figured. I will say this though, you're lucky that pretty much everyone else died or was captured at Hogwarts, else my father would have loosed Greyback on you."

William followed the wizard closely with his eyes but didn't sit with him. Instead he rested his back against the base of a nearby tree, his wand still in his hand, holding it tightly and attentively.
"Hm, Aurors and their lack of imagination. The fools, I won't be on the run for long.
But if you aren't here on your father's volition, why are you here, Henry? I'm surprised, to say the least."

"Well, your little reign of terror happened to get me thinking I'm afraid. I stopped, and just for a second I looked around at us, our class, all of us. I've done some bad stuff Will, stuff I'm going to have to carry for the rest of my life. I guess you could say I've started trying to atone."

The boy drew in a breath and said "So, same reason I'm afraid. The difference is is that I'm going to make sure you're brought in alive."

William looked at Henry as he talked, and slowly stood straight once more.
“Huh, never took you for a coward, Henry. There was a time when I thought we could have worked together against the weak and subservient. When our goals seemed similar. Guess I was mistaken. You’re just like the rest of them.

As for taking me alive, well, I don’t surrender. And I don’t share your hesitation.” And with these final words he pointed his wand towards the wizard, exclaiming “Avada Kedavra”, a green flash springing forth from the tip of his wand.

Henry was moving the moment Will declared his intention not to surrender, ducking behind a tree. His voice called out again "I admire your confidence, but anyone who can't die would imaginably be like that. What say we even these odds then?"

The sound of a cork being pulled could be heard, followed by a loud hissing and almost screamlike noise. From behind the tree came the now ruined husk of the Horcrux. Before Will could fire off another spell, Henry spun around the tree and yelled "LUMOS MAXIMA" unleashing a blast of bright light.

William couldn’t at first comprehend the wizard’s words. It wasn’t until he heard the noises that he felt like there was a hole in his heart and at the sight of the destroyed piece of his soul, he felt a deep pain, and great sorrow that overwhelmed. Finally he realized it. This was the end.

“But I won’t go down that easily” he murmured as Henry casted a beaming light. William barely managed to shield his eyes, his balance thrown off and clouds obscuring his sight. Turning the wand towards the direction of the tree, he yelled “Confringo.

“I cheated Death once and I can do it again. You’ll have the honor of being the murder I need to become immortal once more!”

Henry rolled away from the tree again as the ground next to it was blasted. Looking back at the splintered wood, Henry shook his head and picked himself up. Henry ran to the next tree before his partially blinded opponent could pin down his location.

"You can't cheat Death Will. The bill always comes due as Baxter is fond to say. If you give up right here it will be a long time before you have to pay your due though, I guarantee it."

Henry spun around the tree, and quickly cast Expelliarmus, attempting to disarm the dark wizard.

William heard Henry move, as his eyesight slowly returned. Crafting a shield he managed to avoid being disarmed, before jumping behind a rock to cover himself.

“Death is mine to conquer, Henry. And even if I don’t, I’ll die a proud and free wizard, I’ll never be taken alive to be chained up in a cell. These days are over.”

Pointing his wand towards his opponent’s next location, he unleashed a barrage of curses, making splinters as they hit the base of the tree.

Henry ducked behind his cloak, allowing the splinters to bounce off the magical hide. When he felt the flow of shrapnel ebb for a moment, Henry once more rolled away from the tree, pointed his wand at Will's hiding spot and cast Reducto, attempting the unveil the other boy.

William was preparing for another attack, when he felt a rumbling sound. At the last second, he jumped to the side as the rock at first cracked and in a mere moment had been reduced to a pile of pebbles with an earth-shattering sound. He coughed from the smoke that was now covering the air, before with a slash of his wrist, his wand breathed out fire, aimed towards Henry, which William amplified with a heavy downwards motion as wind carried it, carving the ground, it becoming faster and more aggressive.

Henry once more held up his cloak, protecting him from the blast of fire. His feet began to leave marks in the ground as he was pushed back by the torrent. After a few seconds in the Inferno, the other boy finally sidestepped away from William's attack, and cast STUPEFY at the once great Lord Nihilus.

“Could I have been that wrong about you?”
His wand slipped through his fingers as it fell to the dirt, among the colorful plants that had began propping up among the logs and branches. His eyes grew wider, as he took one step back at first, and then another, each step he made on the soil sounding like a thousand bells ringing in his ears. At the third step he took, a branch extended its fingers, grabbing hold of his foot, bringing him to the ground with a thudding noise.
His head bounced with force on the ground, landing on a pile of rocks, while somewhere that seemed far away, he could hear Henry’s voice, “Shit. Hang on Will, you’re not dying yet.”
A quick glance at the now clear sky and the setting sun was the last thing William Darkenstone was able to discern, before a thick mist of darkness started descending on his eyes.

[The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune]

Judge Cleopin Phoebus,
Office of Magical Law Enforcement

Cleopin Phoebus was tired. He was far too old to be wrapped up in half the garbage that the recent years had tied him up in. Yet he felt a devotion to the post he had held for the past 75 years of his life and he would be damned if he didn't hold it for another 75. He was cleaning up objects on his desk when he heard the door to the office open, revealing an older man and a very beat to hell teenager. Right, the call from the Glacies estate. To tell the truth, he had forgotten about it. Sighing, he reached into a pile of recently filed papers and pulled out one, already stamped and approved.

Reading over it to ensure that the details were correct, the old man scratched one of his sideburns. The hair on his head had fallen out a long time ago, but Cleopin had ensured that he would have bushy and well groomed sideburns with a good bit of potions work and some basic transfiguration. Double and triple checking the writing, he said in a calm and clear voice "The young man in question will spend the rest of his summer in a ministry isolation cell within the Department of Mysteries. Within this cell the defendant shall have three meals a day, which will be portkeyed into his room. There shall be no outside contact of any kind, as is procedure with such a punishment. Upon conclusion of Hogwarts summer term, he shall be escorted by apparition to Hogsmeade and personally taken to the school, to ensure he does not get into trouble. Finally his name shall be referred to Karamazoff for any further measures." Cleopin put the paper back into the stack, put a few spare pieces into a briefcase, and stood up, walking away from his desk. "Lionel, Burke, you can handle putting the boy away." Two aurors, fresh out of hogwarts by the looks of them, both of whom were never known for roughing people up at least in recent memory, responded with a salute and began to lead Derek away.

The judge grabbed a hat and a jacket from a nearby coatrack and said "You should go home, get some rest Haverbouch, you look tired. Hell, take the next few days off. Get ready for the next round of lists."

[United Democratic Christian States]

David

He was relieved to say the least that Isolde seemed to be better than fine. Kissing her back after receiving his butterbeer.

God I cannot afford to loose this

However before he could run loose with that train of thought he was brought back when Isolde asked how his family was.

"The new normal I guess, dad practically lives at the ministry now trying to get all the information possible about Darkenstone updates. I think he mentioned something about Eastern Europe is where the Aurors are looking. Guess we will find out once they find him.

Mum I think is starting to go mad since being sacked of her ministry job during the muggleborn purge. All she talks about is football now. Kinda wish she would go find a job in Diagon Ally so she wasn't home all the time checking on me every 20 minutes or so. Pretty sure she is afraid I'm gonna sneak out and get you pregnant or something. Hopefully after a little more time she will relax.

Also how is you're mum? She as busy as my dad about Darkenstone?"

[Skylus]

Judge Cleopin Phoebus,
Office of Magical Law Enforcement

Cleopin Phoebus was tired. He was far too old to be wrapped up in half the garbage that the recent years had tied him up in. Yet he felt a devotion to the post he had held for the past 75 years of his life and he would be damned if he didn't hold it for another 75. He was cleaning up objects on his desk when he heard the door to the office open, revealing an older man and a very beat to hell teenager. Right, the call from the Glacies estate. To tell the truth, he had forgotten about it. Sighing, he reached into a pile of recently filed papers and pulled out one, already stamped and approved.

Reading over it to ensure that the details were correct, the old man scratched one of his sideburns. The hair on his head had fallen out a long time ago, but Cleopin had ensured that he would have bushy and well groomed sideburns with a good bit of potions work and some basic transfiguration. Double and triple checking the writing, he said in a calm and clear voice "The young man in question will spend the rest of his summer in a ministry isolation cell within the Department of Mysteries. Within this cell the defendant shall have three meals a day, which will be portkeyed into his room. There shall be no outside contact of any kind, as is procedure with such a punishment. Upon conclusion of Hogwarts summer term, he shall be escorted by apparition to Hogsmeade and personally taken to the school, to ensure he does not get into trouble. Finally his name shall be referred to Karamazoff for any further measures." Cleopin put the paper back into the stack, put a few spare pieces into a briefcase, and stood up, walking away from his desk. "Lionel, Burke, you can handle putting the boy away." Two aurors, fresh out of hogwarts by the looks of them, both of whom were never known for roughing people up at least in recent memory, responded with a salute and began to lead Derek away.

The judge grabbed a hat and a jacket from a nearby coatrack and said "You should go home, get some rest Haverbouch, you look tired. Hell, take the next few days off. Get ready for the next round of lists."

Derek; currently imprisoned in a cell in the Department of Mysteries, MoM

His cell was insanely small, with only just enough room for him to lie down and stand up in. It was padded on all sides, magical, and self cleaning, as he found out a day later. There was nothing except for the walls, no latrine, no bed, nothing. There was a dim light source, although he couldn't tell where it was. He very quickly lost track of time, only that every eight hours, he was given some bread and a glass of water for nourishment. Derek turned wolf sometime later - he supposed it had been a week - and he tried to attack the padded walls, but nothing happened. All he could do was eat, relieve himself at the other end of the cell and watch everything be cleaned moments later, and sleep. That was it. Nothing else.

Although, he entered a strange state of mind while he was completely alone. He found himself thinking of Madi and wondered what she was up to, how she was, if she was worried about him.

---

Madison Goodwill, London

It was May 5th. Madi had been released from St. Mungo's a day prior, and was currently at home in her room, lying on her bed, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. It had been five weeks since the battle and she knew things would never be the same. Tonight would be a full moon, and as Madi gave a side glance to a potion sitting on a nearby nightstand, she wondered if her parents would panic again when she turned.

A few hours later, the sun began to set and she got up, informed her parents of what was to happen, then returned to her room, locked the door, took the potion, and then waited. She had gotten to the transformation by now, it didn't hurt as much as it has used to, but it was still unpleasant. Eventually, a nearly grown werewolf stood in the room, and Madi stepped into her bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. A strangely shaped wolf's head sat atop her bare shoulders, her ears, which had become large and pointy, flickered in response to movement somewhere in the house. Her gaze traveled downwards, past her now bare and furred chest, lower to her stomach, her legs, then to her clawed feet, then back up to her face. The werewolf stepped back from the mirror and opened her mouth a bit, revealing pointy fangs that glinted from the overhead light. She turned her head to the right, then left, then closed her mouth and left the bathroom to curl up on her bed and cover herself with blankets.

Madi had almost drifted off to sleep when she heard someone knock at her door. The werewolf emitted an annoyed growl as she threw the covers back and got up from her bed, then crossed the room over to the door.

She didn't open the door, but instead slid the peephole and positioned herself so only her head was visible. She caught her mother staring at her and she averted her gaze after a moment, trying to see if there was anyone else in the hallway.

"Your dinner is ready. Do you feel like eating with us?"

Madi thought about it, nodded, stepped back from the door, then held up a furred hand/paw close to the peephole and made the "wait a moment" gesture, then started to try to find clothing. She ended up going with a long nightgown and the werewolf left her room a moment later, wandering down the hallway and stairs as she padded into the kitchen, where four cooked steaks were waiting on plates. To the dismay of her parents and the amazement of her younger brother, Madi picked up a steak in her hands and began to tear into it, eventually sitting down on a barstool and resorting to taking tiny bites as her hunger began to subside.

"Yes, dear, I appreciate you trying to remember your manners." her father hugged Madi and the werewolf rumbled in acknowledgement as he sat down opposite her. "They....Informed us about what happened, about some mad man trying to kill everyone. I suppose if we were magical, we would care more, but still, the fact that they couldn't protect all of you..."

Madi swallowed the piece of meat she had been chewing on and listened intently, wondering if she should attempt to correct her dad, then figured he was somewhat right and simply nodded. Her mother watched from the entry into the living room for a few moments before leaving to work on the next day’s curriculum. Her younger brother, Micheal, soon left to play video games in his room.

Madi was eventually the only one left in the kitchen and she got up from the barstool, picked up the now cold steak, and headed outside via the backdoor and perched on the first step leading down into the backyard as she silently finished eating her dinner. The werewolf made note to ask her mom what spices she had used and then looked up at the star filled sky, before her gaze caught the moon and Madi simply stared up at it, and as a strange desire filled her the werewolf raised her head, closed her eyes, then howled. The sound echoed and as Madi opened her eyes, she grinned as the various dogs nearby began barking and howling back, she could understand them now and they were mostly panicking and asking “what was that?!”, to her amusement.

The werewolf suddenly felt the need to take off the nightgown she was currently wearing and run around the fenced yard, but she didn’t do that. She did, however, look back towards the house, figured no one was watching, then leapt off the steps onto the grass, got up, and disappeared from view behind a massive pine tree. There was something exhilarating about relieving oneself outside and as a werewolf, the feeling was only amplified. Madi dwelled on the reasoning for this but failed to come up with a suitable answer and returned to the house a few minutes later, walked up to her room, took off the nightgown, took a shower, was very careful with drying herself off, then fell asleep on her bed under the covers.

[Arlye Austros]

The face that looked back at her smiled. It seemed strange, yet she sort of liked it. Julia blinked at her reflection. Maybe she would keep it, after the war was over. Her brown eyes didn’t seem to conflict too much with the new image, and she was careful the tone of the hair didn’t look unnatural. Of course, she didn’t use strictly normal means.
The girl aimed with the wand back at the door, and the lock clicked before it was flung open. With it the music of the club, muffled by the walls, invaded the bathroom with crystal-clear intensity. Three women pushed in and looked angry at her.
“You can’t just lock yourself in, girl!” One said in an Argentine accent. Another one chuckled.
“Let’ her be, Elu, she seems wasted.”

She was amused that none of them wondered how she unlocked the door from metres away. Yet she was the one looking wasted.
“I am sorry. I think the door locked itself.” She replied with a smirk. They were too drunk to even care. One of them did a horrendous gesture before containing herself in her mouth, and rushed to the bathroom cabinet.

“You were dyeing your hair?” The one called Elu looked at the tainted lavatory and some tissue she had used. “It actually seems fine enough.”
“Thanks.” Julia replied with a faint smile as she cleaned it all up.
“You know, there are better places to have your hair done than a club past midnight…” She said before looking closer at Julia. “And you don’t even seem like you should be here.”

“I am eighteen.” She lied. She was almost, but not quite yet.
“Yeah… And I am the vice-president’s daughter.” She said, Julia uncertain whether she was for real or not. Who even was the Argentine vice-president?
“Please don’t tell the guys from the club. I am leaving anyway.” She faked a pleading while there was a vomiting sound coming from the cabinet. Julia slipped her wand at the ready, but still just out of sight.
“Don’t worry. I am no snitch. But don’t hold me responsible.” The woman shrugged and headed to the cabinet to check on her friends. Julia walked out of the bathrooms and into the club, shrouded by the loud music and tantalising lights. The smell of alcohol was slightly mixed with burning herbs, and it made her feel sick.
<<Muggle parties…>>

Outside the echo of more clubs open at that late hour reached her above the passing of cars. The street ran parallel to the shore of the lake, and Bariloche announced to the void of that part of the world it was more alive than ever.

People were celebrating. What exactly could they possibly celebrate? Julia couldn’t help feeling mildly insulted. They had no idea of what happened around her, of the way the world of hers was falling apart.

Julia Montenegro had been on the run for a week. It was insulting how her effort to save lives turned into something different entirely. She heard about a group of students from the Lucerna, and that they were being chased. She told Oscar, but it seemed the Kalku were now on to her.
Kalku and the Lucerna. The group that self-styled themselves The Righteous Province, a long-gone group of dark wizards. The Kalku themselves were not original, but they were dangerous nonetheless. Wielders of both indigenous magic and European magic, and willing to cross any boundary for their own purpose. They took over southern Chile years before, when they overtook the Hunters of Peace, a paramilitary police. Many families supported them and their agenda, which included attacking Muggle communities and setting them under their control, abducting their children to be used either as hostages or slaves in the form of Invunche, and excerpting their will through the region even attacking the Argentines some months before. But most notably perhaps, they established a rudimentary educational system which served only to cement their grip on society. Wizard sons and daughters were collected through the region, and forcefully enrolled to the Lucerna if they were under sixteen, and to the Caleuche if they were in their later years. But education was secondary to them. Julia still bore the marks of torture, and the memories of what they made her do, and everybody else. All for the sake of power and control.

That is why they resisted going back. Julia and others did their best to vanish when they had a chance, and attacked other collecting parties as they recalled their students for a second year. This time an entire group of children and teenagers hid in the mountains, and more, she knew now, took refuge in forests, hills and lake-sides, even at Muggle homes. It was something, some distance between them and their would-be captors.

Julia walked down the main street and sat by the stony beach, over the cement barrier separating the street and the shore. It was ugly, but apparently would resist any wave formed by the northern winds. Laugher and cars followed her, mocking her thoughts. She looked at the lake, as if Julia tried to call whatever lived within. It was just a plain, pitch-black layer extending to the starry horizon of the north.

She sent Nayadeth to Europe, to try and contact some of the exiles. The Gomez, who lived in Japan, in a place called Kochi, hadn’t replied after their last set of letters two weeks before. She hoped they were fine, or that at least the children were safe in the Mahoutokoro School. Nayadeth as well failed to report past her passage through Madrid, and Julia feared the worse.

They were fighting a war, and she feared they were fighting alone. Argentina seemed to have come to an agreement with the Kalku, largely dismissing, or justifying perhaps, the abuses and horrors they had caused, and the Chileans of the north seemed contempt with just looking. Julia felt hopeless as she looked into the blackness.

“You should go inside.” A voice said from her side. A policeman seemed to have walked to her, and was sitting on the barrier, lighting a cigar while keeping an eye on the avenue and the blond girl that stared at the night. “It won’t be pretty in a few hours.”

“Oh…” She replied. “You expect them all to start brawling or something?” She gestured with her head to the row of clubs, where young adults and a handful of teenagers yelled and made a ruckus. The man chuckled with the cigar between his lips.
“Yeah, given the latest events, that is something we are looking out for. But no. I mean the wind.”
“What about it?”
He grabbed the paper roll and looked up, then at Julia. “The Puelche is rising. If I am not forgetting the things my granny taught me, it will pour in an hour at the most. We should have the first drops anytime now. And it will be freezing.”

She believed the policeman. He seemed slightly old, and local, with a certain tone. Julia smiled at this thought, somewhat embarrassed, but also proud of the observation.
“I suppose. I will find shelter then.” She stood up and turned back to the Avenue. “But not at one of those caves. I hate the smell.”
“Wise. I used to rave there.” He pointed at one establishment with green letters in the front. “Until a nephew of mine died. Stabbed. We protested, nothing happened.” He had a taste of his cigar. “Then I just stopped, stuck to my work, don’t shy from coming here.”

Julia didn’t know what to say. Saying sorry would come a bit too late now. “Do you ever feel you are not doing a change?”

The man seemed surprised at that question, looking at her. “Yeah… Every now and then. It’s part of the job.” Another sip. “Everytime a fight gets out of hand, or somebody gets injured, or we have somebody die in the streets. I go back home and wonder why I keep doing it.”
“Why then?”

This time the reply took a while. “I am not sure… I suppose its better than doing nothing. If I stay home and retire people will get hurt still. Maybe there is a small group that is safe thanks to me. I can’t prove it, but the mere fantasy keeps me going.” With that he finished his cigar. It took him little over a minute, and Julia imagined if her wasn’t already sick, he would very soon. “Anyway, miss, I suggest you go back home. Good night.” The man started walking and tossed the tail of the cigar in a trash bin. Seconds after he vanished Julia felt a droplet falling on her nose. Julia Montenegro wondered if that man hadn’t been an illusion or an apparition sent to keep her going. Maybe she imagined him. Whatever the case, she needed to get to cover, and fled to the bungalow where she rented a room. At the entrance of the road connecting the scattered cottages with a handful of cars parked here and there, she turned to the lake and wondered if any of the groups she intended to coordinate and bring together to unite a resistance against the Province were looking at the same void, feeling lonely and longing for help.

“It’s definitely her.” A voice informed from the inside. A Chilean accent like hers. Male. “Hair, eyes.”
She listened from outside the cottage. Before coming in she noticed that a window was broken. It seemed somebody was breaking in. Julia drew out her wand. “You think she left?”
Another voice, somewhat nasal, replied with some annoyance. “No. She left her passport. Unless she knew we are behind her.” The voice finished as if it was blaming the other of something.

“I told you, she seemed not to notice me. She just read the paper.”

Julia understood.

“You just had to follow her, not see what she was reading.”

She forgot he passport. Idiot! But no matter now. Julia had hoped the man who watched her at the park wouldn’t be able to track her down, and changing her hair was just to add a little more cover. But They managed to track her down.
“Maybe we should leave a charm and wait. If she comes we can surprise her.”

There was a sigh. “Yes… I suppose there is no point in staying here when we can lay out an amb…”
Julia had crouched below the window frame, listening to the conversation. Her jacket was hooked by a nail that peeped out of the wooden wall. When her movement ripped the cover of the jacket it made a sound barely audible, but enough.


A rush of footsteps was followed by the opening of the door. The Kalku looked outside, hand armed and wand at the ready. The other one, older but taller, pushed through the door and walked outside, wand in one hand and a knife at the other. She recognised the man. Bald and with a short beard. His naked head seemed to be a skull as it exposed to the rain that poured out of the porch. Major Kraska hadn’t change, and he held a knife she had seen him using. Julia could feel her own panting making too much noise, as she hid behind a pile of logs just beyond the porch, soaking wet under the rain.
“There!”

The other one had remained a shadow, but was illuminated by a red flare from the wand. The curse scattered pieces of flaming wood through the road, and Julia had to step back and raise her wand to deflect the next one, which bounced off to the ground and left the red sand bubbling a fuming.
“Idiot! We need her alive!” Kraska yelled as he followed Julia, who rushed towards the street, almost slipping through the wet floor. There were no more curses for a few seconds, which told her they aimed carefully. No cars in sight. Julia turned sharply as she reached the wooden fence at the entrance, using her hand as an anchor to spin around and take cover. A bronce-looking light passed right beside her, making a buzzing sound. It died on the pavement. Julia aimed back and shot a disarming spell. But they were in the outskirts of Bariloche, she had to be careful. Or perhaps not?

A bus came at full speed. It accelerated despite the rain. Perhaps it was her chance. It was coming closer and closer.

“She’s back here still!” The other Kalku told Mayor Kraska. He was almost at the gate. Julia aimed at the bus.

The break and direction heated in a blink of an eye and snapped off their joints, the bus lost control and was diverted towards thee gate, straight at the bald man, who was already in sight of Julia, and she in his. However what she could see was the sight of panic of the driver behind Kraska, as he punched the klaxon.

It all happened in a fraction of a second. The bus rammed against the wooden gate, knocking off the stone pilars that served as markers. Julia laid the man, still panicking, on the grass at the other side of the road, the bus behind her. Major Kraska and his grunt circled the wreck, looking for Julia, and he yelled some instructions. They had too dissaparated in the last second. Julia looked at the man before quickly whipping out his memory, then vanished.

She appeared by, not too far from the crash site. She could actually hear the horn of the bus. Luckily there was nobody else inside, otherwise… she didn’t want to imagine it. Julia walked through the shallow water, fighting the current and the coming and going of the waves. Finally the reached dry land and ran away from the Kalku, then vanished once more.

[Miekzhemy]

Lucas Ackerley
Ropewalks - Liverpool, England

After exiting Amelia's office, Lucas promptly returned to his own office. There, he hung up his cloak, instead donning a simple raincoat, and apparated out.

He reappeared in an empty urban alleyway underneath a shower of rain, taking a breath of that typical muggy atmosphere of the Midlands. He sauntered discreetly out of the alley separating a row of Victorian shops and cafes, and some of the pan-Asian restaurants of Chinatown. With the sun beginning to set, the road was jammed with traffic and the streets teeming with people both departing from work and going out for a night on the town. And with the rain beating down upon his hooded raincoat, Lucas began a steady hike towards the docks.

It took him a while to get there thanks to the traffic. Much of the warehouses had already closed for the day, and the boats were all tied up due to the weather. When he arrived, Lucas came to a rest at a bench overlooking the waterways of the Mersey. Listening quietly to the soothing sound that was the steady rainfall of Britain, he leaned back and waited.

And waited...

The auror suddenly stood up, letting out a mildly annoyed sigh, before turning and walking back the way he came. Filing through a small crowd of people crossing the street, Lucas came to another stop underneath the awning of another alleyway. He would have gone home by then, but a sound from deeper within caught him off guard: A groan of pain. He nonchalantly turned, force of habit causing him to grip the wand tucked away in his pocket.

A man was laid face-down on the pavement, his position making it clear that he had been left there. Lucas frankly would have backed off from the poor sod if it weren't for the clothes he was wearing. Instead, he ran up and knelt at his side. Lucas took him by the shoulder and turned him over.

To say he had been beaten senseless would probably be an understatement; eyes practically swollen shut, a fat lip and missing teeth were only a few of his many noticeable injuries. Lucas tried briefly to get his attention, but by the time he had turned the man over, he was already out cold.

So, with another deep sigh, Lucas strained himself to pick the fellow up, and disapparated yet again.

/\/\/\

Recker once considered himself a valued member of his Department. Be it investigating simple misdemeanors to bringing muggle-born terrorists to justice, he was but a humble auror seeking to make Wizarding Britain a little safer to its people.

Now, laid out upon a dilapidated sofa in a bare, run-down muggle tenement, his future and family were now all but nonexistent. And for naught but the simple crime of loose lips was he brought to such ruin. His rank and career stripped away, his wand destroyed, and outright banished under threat of death to live in a world of which he knew so little...

A throbbing pain constantly reminded him of the vicious beating he had endured just earlier. But what eventually awoke the man was the sound of his fridge being closed from across the apartment. He heard footsteps across the carpet, leading right over to the recliner across from him.

And when Recker finally opened one of his swollen eyes, he found himself face to face with his own partner, plunking a bottle of scotch down upon the coffee table. He strained himself to sit up.

"...Lucas?"

The man seated across from him said nothing at first, popping open a bottle of his own. He took a long drink.

"Who beat you?"

"C'mon man," Recker murmured. "Leave it alone... It was all jus' a misunderstandin'--"

Lucas smacked his bottle down upon the table. Recker flinched.

"Who beat you, Adrian?"

"B-Boris! It was Boris! Him and 'is boys!"

A silence fell upon them for a time.

"Was jus' them...bendin' th' elbow a bit--"

"How much this time?"

Recker hung his head. "...five large."

In that instant, Lucas sunk into the seat. He stared at the surface of the table for several seconds, before slipping his wand out. Recker slowly shook his head.

"Oh no... C'mon Lucas," he begged. "You don' 'ave to do this..."

His partner, however, simply looked up with a smirk on his face. Without another word, Lucas stood, set his wand on the table, and disapparated.

"Oh-- Oh bloody hell..."

[Arlye Austros]

Isolde.
Cardiff.

It caught her a bit by surprise that David mentioned his mother’s fears about her. But she didn’t react at all to that, instead focusing on the fact she might hate her.
“Not really. Well, she was. But her job has to do with other stuff. The first week, when I was in the hospital, was when she would move a lot. Now she just works in London. Truth be told, she is working a lot…” She thought about it for a second, while tasting another sip. “Sometimes she even fails to return home by night. But it’s becoming less and less.”

She quickened her drink. “I wish the caught him already. Maybe then things would return to normal.” She mentioned without looking at him, just staring at the empty mug she placed on the table, only looking to the door without moving her head, as two women walked in and sat by the bar. “We could maybe catch up with the last term then, or maybe Avery would leave since he wouldn’t be needed anymore.” Now she was just daydreaming. Isolde knew in any case Avery was to remain in his post for years after they graduated. “All I know is once next year is over, I will move out. I sort of like my freedom.”

[United Democratic Christian States]

David

"Normal? Luv do either of us even know what a real normal is in this world? Seems like every year we are involved in some kind of battle" He said with a light-hearted chuckle to mask his flashbacks to each battle.

He then took a sip of his butterbeer while it seemed Isolde looked down into her mug to ponder something. Before revealing her intentions to move out.

"Hope you do it luv, you seem really happy." He said with a smile.

[Mediama]

Lilian Higgins
Hogwarts' Express

Lilian stared out into the familiar landscape that rushed by as the train made its way back to London. Laid out next to her was a copy of Wicked that her father had sent to her when he was stationed in New York. It was funny to her the fact that she was reading a novel about a 'wicked witch: when she herself was a witch. Nevertheless, the coincidence was lost on her as she reflected on her past career at Hogwarts.

She could see why her mother had decided to leave the wizarding world behind for the most part. Hogwarts wasn't really stellar in its avoidance of child endangerment, and it only felt like yesterday when the campus itself was a literal warzone.

She was essentially following her mother's footsteps in the 'involvement in wizarding warfare' department.

Which was why it was a huge relief that summer vacation was upon them. She was sick and tired of all of the bloodshed, all of the death, that seem to cozy itself up with in the wizarding world, as much as the spells had captivated and fascinated her. She was ready to relax from actual combat, from the spells she practiced during her time in McGonagall's Army.

All the better, she had received a letter from her mother that her parents will be picking her up, and they'll be spending time together in London, her father will be there, albeit a little worse for wear (something to do with some sort of co-operative work with the British Royal Navy and with NATO from what her mother said).

That being said, she felt a little twinge of sadness though. In her quest for magical knowledge, her studious habits, combined with the chaos surrounding them, had left her a box unchecked within the metaphorical school bucket list: to make new friends and form lasting relationships.

The first part was pretty easy, but began to wear a bit thin as everyone became more focused on protecting themselves and in staying alive in the chaos that was Hogwarts, none of her friendships went beyond surface level though, she only had enough to go on a first name basis, nothing more, something that became more apparent at the Yule Ball. As much as she liked the vacation, she at least wanted to at least keep in touch with one of her classmates from school while she was gallivanting around with her family in England.

On top of that, given this was their final year, she had to make her plans on what to do after graduation. She made up her mind the moment year six came around: as much as she was fascinated in the wizarding world, she wanted to get away from the constant conflicts that were going around the British wizarding world. She decided she'd focus on following on her father's footsteps in the navy, do her stint, go back to muggle school, then figure out what to do from there.

But that could wait for later, her father assured her that, the recruiter could wait at any time, her schooling for now couldn't.

---

The slow stop upon the platform dragged Lilian out of her thoughts, and she quickly gathered he things as she disembarked from the train. She found herself once again locked within the chaos of Platform 9 3/4, but was quickly able to charge out of the portal onto King's Cross station.

To the sight of the absence of her parents.

To her bewilderment, and to her exhaustion, she decided that she was just going to walk to the nearest café, and wait for something to happen. Her father gave enough of a sizable allowance for her to at least buy some coffee with a stupidly large amount of cream and sugar, as well as a brownie and a sandwich. with her meal in hand, she sat at the café table and watched the people go by.

Perhaps maybe, she mused, maybe one of my classmates might be in the same predicament. She thought as she stared at the coffee and meal right in front of her, still waiting for her parents to come.

Nevertheless, she decided to pull out her phone, and look through her contacts, finding one of her classmate's phone numbers.

Astrid. Now there's a thought.

Astrid, her roommate in the Ravenclaw dorms, had a bit of an interesting development since they first arrived to Hogwarts. Namely she had been a he once upon a time, and was icy as Iceman from Top Gun (her father was a bad naval influence on her). She hadn't really talked with her much, even before she changed, sans for the numerous times they'd bump into each other (sometimes literally) in the library, both gushing over magical spells like a bunch of Japanese schoolgirls with their senpais.

Astrid since her change seemed to have melted just a bit to the point where she'd see a genuine smile now and then. With both of them being Ravenclaw muggles, it only made since that they'd share some sort of bond over similar circumstances, no matter how small it was, especially since the recent battle.

Maybe it may be high time to at least strengthen one of her relationships. Astrid just seemed a bit interesting compared to the other Ravenclaw students (and less homicidal strangely enough).

Should I text her though? she thought. We only just got off the train, and she has a boyfriend, pretty sure she'd like to spend her time texting to him while she's walking about.

In the end though, she decided to just take a shot in the dark, and decided, just for the memes, to take a picture of her café meal like a stupid Instagram influencer, and send it to her with a message.

Lilian Higgins
Just waiting for my parents, how are you holding up so far?

[Miekzhemy]

Lucas Ackerley
Liverpool

It wasn't the first time he had to deal with this particular lot.

In fact, he knew more than enough about Boris already. A secondary school dropout, little aspiration, and even less manners. He and his friends were no more than punks, thieves and hoodlums. And Lucas knew exactly where they would be.

In little more than his casual clothes, Lucas stepped through the creaky wooden door of one of Liverpool's many downtrodden pubs. But it was hardly one of the pubs frequented by the more honest of people. Aged wooden dining and billiards tables lay scattered about the open hardwood floor, and the cracked paneled walls were covered head to toe in the decorative paraphernalia one might expect to see in such a rustic establishment - plaques, sports team flags, framed newspaper articles, and photos of people both famous and long lost to history. And at the other end of the pub, the voice of John Lennon sang through an aging jukebox.

He was honestly surprised to find very few people inside at this time of night. The bar was all but empty, its tender giving him a brief look that only conveyed his knowing of why Lucas was there. Pursing his lips, he wadded up the washcloth with which he had been wiping the counter, and tossed it into the sink before retreating out of sight. Lucas paid no mind, instead fixing his gaze on the only occupied dining table there.

"W'ot, you think this's your da's online poker or somethin'? You wan'na piss off? Your money's stayin' on th' table!"

Lucas' brow furrowed at the sound of Boris' snappy voice. With a head of buzzed blonde hair, he wore a frayed denim jacket over his shirt and holes in his jeans, much like the two others he was playing cards with. One was the first to notice Lucas walk in - a burly Scotsman in short sleeves, arms spangled with tattoos. The other, a scrawny boy that looked like he could be no older than Lucas' own daughter, sat lazily in his seat across from his loud-mouthed friend. As Lucas stepped further into the room, the three shifted their gazes to meet him. Boris sneered.

"Ugh, 'im again... Th' hell you wan' now?"

Lucas promptly reached into his pocket, and tossed a roll of bills onto the floor. It rolled before coming to a stop at Boris' feet.

"Th' money Adrian owes you."

"Ahh! Now we're gettin' somewhere--!"

"I ain't done with you yet..." Lucas interrupted. Boris stifled a cocky snicker.

"Yeah? W'otsit then ol' man? Gonna give us anoth'a lil' stern talkin' to? Ay?"

"Oh, more than that, son," Lucas said. He ran a hand along the edge of the billiards table next to them, momentarily turning his back. "What's comin' next comes from God, not me. And i'm gonna make it hurt..."

The burly Scot slowly rose from his seat. Lucas heard the steady sound of his heavy boots come ever closer to him.

"Yeah... For the rest of your FOCKIN' LIVES!"

Lucas whirled around and promptly socked the Scot square in the jaw. And for a split second, Boris and his friend watched in disbelief as the brutish hulk of a man was felled in a single blow.

But it only took another moment for both of them to shoot up to their feet.

"Y'er focking dead! You 'ear me--?!"

Boris stomped up and hurled a reckless right hook, only to feel a sudden punch to his kidney as Lucas ducked right under it. The pain caused him to all but drop to the floor, smacking against the billiards table as he went down.

The lanky one stepped in just after. Lucas brought an arm up, easily taking the brunt of his punch. But, wasting no time, Lucas slipped around the boy and outright seized him by the waist. In another instant, he was heaved into the air and hurled kicking and screaming onto their dining table. He came down upon it hard, the entire thing practically collapsing underneath the boy's weight, showering him in splinters and beer.

Lucas took a breath as he stood up straight. A brief look at the boy writhing in pain amidst the wreckage of the table was a clear enough sign his fight was over. His eyes turned to Boris, who laid on all fours several feet away. The punk looked up at him with a scowl - a look of defiance - a desire to fight back. Lucas bid him a smile, and merely beckoned him to do just that.

"C'mon..." he growled.

Boris bared his teeth, and promptly scrambled to his feet, charging right towards him.

"RRRAAAAGH!"

Lucas braced, and the boy barreled right into him. His back hit the wall, causing several frames to crash to the floor around them. And with Boris pushing against him and slugging punch after punch into his abdomen, Lucas returned a vicious elbow to his back. He grappled with the boy's jacket, eventually managing to pull him off.

"You f-- OUGH--!" A punch to his throat left Boris reeling backward and choking on his own words. The subsequent kick to his shin sent him falling onto the billiards table behind him.

He lay there for a time, staring up at the blinding ceiling light above, before being yanked off the table by his leg. He hit the floor, still hacking and wheezing, and soon found Lucas bearing down on him, the knee to his chest pinning him to the floor.

"I better not have to have this little conversation again..."

Lucas stood up, leaving Boris squirming and wallowing in his own misery on the floor. He scooped up the roll of money, splitting several of the bills from the stack before setting them on the bar counter.

Finally, tossing the remainder of the roll back onto the floor, Lucas walked out.

[Arlye Austros]

Isolde.
Cardiff

The girl smiled as David replied. “Yes… for a change.” Her mind blinked into what happened the last few months. Not the battle and carnage, but before, when Avery had a grip on her. It made her shrug her shoulder slightly as her smile flashed out of existence. “There is something I need to get off of me, though.” Isolde jumped into the pond, as she spoke steadily. “After we… After Avery caught us he didn’t just made me do stuff, as some form of detention. Remember that letter?” She asked, but continued right away. Behind her both witches started to talk loudly, but she didn’t seem to bother too much. “He used it as leverage. Truth be told, he started before he caught us, but after that it just got worse. He had me spy on the meetings Rachel held and inform him right away.”

Admitting that was like getting a weight off her shoulders, although she imagined it had to be admitted to Rachel, rather than David. Still, it was a start. The chatting behind them got louder for a second, then decreased.

[Britanania]

Mexico City, Mexico

The Spanish conquistadores founded Mexico City on 13 August 1521, only days following the razing of Tenochtitlan, the ancient capital of the Mexica people and by extension, the Aztec Empire. At the time of its destruction, Tenochtitlan was possibly the most populated city on Earth and dwarfed even London. Mexico City became not only the capital and most important city of New Spain but arguably the most important city in the New World for centuries and even today remains the largest city within Spanish-speaking Latin America.

The young woman wore a black, form-fitting dress and thick aviator sunglasses as she sat at a cafe near La Catedral Metropolitana de la Asunción de la Santísima Virgen María a los cielos. The Cathedral's Baroque and Gothic facade made a fine companion as the young woman sipped her glass of Viña Doña Dolores Chardonnay Brut Nature. A waiter soon walked over and bowed a little before the stunningly beautiful girl with the flaming red hair.

"Vultis alterius potus?" he asked politely. The young woman looked at him and pulled down her sunglasses before she flashed him a warm smile.

"Ita. Potus alterius volam." The waiter again bowed as the young woman looked up at the hot sun and thought about why she was here.