Faust Jonathan Rowland was a 23-year-old British man who grew up in a normal family, in the suburbs of London, watched cartoons and played hide and seek with other kids. After graduating, he sought to advance his education in hopes of gaining a chance at a better career, just like everyone else. He was a fan of Star Wars, watched football, cheered for Chelsea FC, drank Guinness, paid bills, had an English breakfast every morning, traveled by public transport and went to work every day except weekends. But he was, by no means, an ordinary man.

Faust was an auror, and a pretty good one, at that. In two years spent in the Auror Office, his status went from F.N.G. to 'that young lad who brought down the Chimera gang and solved the Manchester Butcher case'. He wouldn't admit it openly, but he enjoyed being in the spotlight of fame in the Auror Office. Despite being young, he meant business, and he wanted his skeptical and deprecatory older colleagues to know that. More than anything, though, he enjoyed the proud moment when his boss, Harry James Potter, congratulated him personally after his first successful operation. Faust was by no means a braggart, but who wouldn't be proud of themselves when a legend pats you on the back.

19th August 2017, London, Great Britain.

'… really happy here,

With this lonely game we play…'

Faust heard the music coming from the earphones, but he wasn't listening to it. He heard this song a thousand times already. It was a long day at the office, and all he could think about was getting home, pouring a glass of scotch and unwinding by the fireplace. Soon he would make a sharp turn left and then forward another 150 meters, towards Charing Cross Station. He took off his earphones and turned off the music on his brand-new Samsung phone. There was no point in listening to the same bloody song every evening. He took a sharp turn left. Now he just has to…

- 'This is Central to all officers near Charing Cross station, spells cast near Craig's Court,, is anyone able to investigate, over?', the vibe sounded off in Faust's head. Vibes were telepathic messages widely used in the wizarding world for quick communication.

- 'Central, this is auror Rowland, I'm on it.', Faust responded telepathically.

Faust sighed and turned back, going through the street of Great Scotland Yard. He took a turn right, and after passing the Silver Cross pub, turned right again. Going deeper into Craig's Court, he started hearing cries echoing from a nearby backstreet:

- 'No, wait! Stop! Please!'

A green flash lit up the brick walls. Faust pulled out his wand and ran up to the narrow backstreet.

The sight was gruesome. A hooded, tall figure was holding a circlet that was emanating a faint light. Before the figure lay a mutilated heap of meat and skin, which was missing an arm. And a leg. And its face. The hooded figure raised its wand and pointed it at Faust. He took cover behind the wall just as a green bolt flashed by his head. When he peeked around the corner, the wavy cloak of the murderer was already disappearing into the shadows. Faust nonverbally cast Lumos and gave chase.

- 'Central, this is auror Rowland, I'm in pursuit of a murder suspect between Craig's Court and Great Scotland Yard. Requesting reinforcements.', Faust vibed to Central.

Just when Faust thought he had him cornered, the murderer cast the Ascendio spell, which propelled him onto the rooftops. The young auror followed. As he ran across the rooftops, he showered the suspect with a flurry of spells, each one blocked by the Protego spell.

- 'Stop, you bloody cunt!', Faust shouted at the murderer, though he wasn't expecting him to cooperate.

In the blink of an eye, extremely nimbly, the murderer jumped across the wide gap between two buildings, and just as Faust was getting ready to jump after him, he felt a sharp pain in his left leg that threw him off balance. He jumped and slammed into the wall, barely grabbing the edge of the roof. His leg was bleeding. As he tried pulling himself up, a spell cast by the fleeing suspect blew off the bricks beneath Faust's right hand. He heard the echoes of the vanishing footsteps as he clung to the edge with his left hand.

'Oh, fuck me sideways.', he said before the brick wall slipped from underneath his fingers.

The bed at St Mungo's was more than comfortable, despite it being a hospital bed. As Faust slowly opened his eyes, two blurry figures stood over him. One of them said:

- 'You awake, mate? How many fingers do you see?'

- 'Piss off, Ed.', Faust replied.

- 'Yeah, he's awake', Ed exclaimed to the other auror.

- 'What happened? Sherlock Holmes finally slip and fall?', the other auror asked

- 'Is that supposed to be a pun, William?', Faust said, looking at his aching leg. 'What happened? Did you catch the suspect?'

- 'He got away.', Ed replied. 'We found you unconscious and with a broken leg in an alley not far from Northumberland Avenue.'

- 'How long was I out?'

- 'Thirteen hours straight.', said the Healer that had just entered the room. 'Your leg is fixed up, you'll be able to go home tomorrow morning. But don't expect to get back in action for at least a year. Your leg was literally torn to shreds, and if you strain it too much, you'll wound it permanently.'

- 'A year! A whole bloody year! I'll have to take sick leave for a full. Bloody. Year!', Faust was furious.

Harry, the head of the Auror Office, sat at his desk in a cozy office, fingers clasped. He listened to the young auror with an amused look on his face, his lips stretching in a mild smile.

- 'With all due respect, chief, I don't think it's funny. What am I supposed to do for a whole year? I'm not about to sit at home like a bloody hermit!'

- 'Well, since you're so eager to be useful, I might have something for you. It won't be as exciting, but it may be a nice experience.'

- 'Sure, whatever it is, I accept… Um… So, what is it?'

Harry smirked and said:

- 'Pack your bags. You're going back to school.'