Note: Sorry for the long drawn out backstory. The story can be a bit confusing without it. This story is a generation after the Next Generation. :) Enjoy.

August 23rd, 2020

Ronald Weasley's body was found on the streets of London. Witnesses reported a man who Harry instantly recognized as Theodore Nott. After erasing the Muggle's memories, Harry spent five months tracking him down, and eventually destroyed him. The memorial for Ron still stands, as well as his picture in the Auror Hall of Fame.

May 1st, Year 2030

A seemingly calm and peaceful day, it soon turned tragic. Harry Potter, Head Auror, received a tip that there was to be a Death Eater gathering in the graveyard where Tom Riddle Sr. was buried. This struck a nerve with Harry, as his best friend had been killed by a rogue Death Eater. He rounded up some of his top Aurors: his son, James Potter, his nephew Hugo Weasley, his second in command William Donnohan, his godson Teddy Lupin, his 'protegee' Victor Hughes, and a select few. Though they sent scouts in first, everything seemed clear until they reached the gravesight. It soon proved to be nothing but an ambush - three wizards were killed that day. It was said that Harry died defending his sons, James and Teddy, and that James was killed after viciously attacking the man that slew his father. Hugo Weasley also perished. It is not known whether this attack had anything to do with the recent Fall of Hogwarts, but it was a sad day for the Wizarding World - they had lost their hero. A memorial was held for weeks for the fallen Aurors, and the mass funeral was attended to by thousands. William Donnohan became Head Auror in Harry Potter's place.

April 13th, 2040

Once again, it seems to be a normal day at the Ministry of Magic. Tension has been building up, with odd Dementor sightings and Muggle attacks. Suddenly, from every corner appears a hood and mask, wands drawn. Since there seemed to be no security breaches, it is assumed that the attack came from inside the Ministry itself. While it was a distraction for a later, more cataclysmic event, many of the Wizarding World's finest perished. Hermione Granger, nominee for Minister of Magic for whenever Minister Chadwick meant to resign, was one of the last fighters remaining. She is remembered with honor, as well as Lucy Weasley and Lily Luna Potter. She is survived by the last Potter child - Albus Severus Potter. Since then, many people have left the Ministry. It is now under more strict control, with higher security and more detail. However, most of the population has discovered that this is simply a cover. The Ministry is now overrun with Dark Force members, making it impossible for Muggle-borns to work there. Dementors guard every floor, and the Wizengamot has almost completely been eradicated. All that is left, is seems, is now Minister of Magic Edmund Frost, and a handful of souls for each floor.

April 13, 2040

As nighttime falls on Hogwarts, another darkness descends on the castle. Dementors storm the castle, surprising the staff while several dozen masked figures come behind them. Within only hours, the school is occupied by the woman only known as The Mistress. In the attack, all but two professors died, including one of the heroes of the Second War, Neville Longbottom. Over eighty percent of the school population was captured. Reports of their current status are unknown. Since then, many attempts at raids have been attempted, but no one has ever made it past the Apparition barrier. Many have died in the raids since, including Head Auror William Donnohan. He is remembered with honor and glory, as are the hundreds of souls lost at Hogwarts. The complete list of souls lost at Hogwarts can be found in the Memorial at Patronus Academy.

Decades have passed since the Harry Potter Era, and for a while there was a time of peace and prosperity, but it wasn't long after the Wizarding Hero's death that a new breed of evil began to show itself. After the banishing of The Dark Lord Voldemort, Dementors had gone into hiding, but they never truly died out. Instead, they began to breed and multiply under a unknown force until one day the launched an attack against the Wizarding youth of England: they attacked Hogwarts. While some students did manage to escape, many families felt the loss of a loved one. The disbanding of the Ministry had happened earlier that day, but no one could forget the tragedy that befell the beloved school.

Though many revolutions occurred, no one was ever strong enough to save the students and banish the Dementors. Many people died in the revolutions and rebellions, and most families have died out or been shattered. Since then, the Ministry of Magic has fallen under what the Order fears is the wrong hands, the hands of Edmund Frost. The Order of the Phoenix is beginning to reform, since the Ministry has been taken over and 'purged' of its 'unworthy' members. Raids take place every week, the Daily Prophet's pages are splattered with bloodshed. All the Wizarding World can fear is a name: The Mistress.

It is a time of loss and despair, but now there is a new hope...

A new school has formed under retired Auror Aurelia Lightwick, and with her professors formed from the Order members, they have created a school designed to defend and protect the wizarding youth. A new school that will prepare it's students for the hard times they will face. This school is a candle in the darkness for England, a hope that most have no felt in years.

This is the Age of the Patronus. This is their story.

The Three Houses of Patronus Academy

The first house of Patronus Academy is the Lion House.

Students of the Lion House often exhibit traits of loyalty and bravery.

It is the house of the noble as well as the proud.

Head of House: Eleanor Potter, Flying Professor

The second house is the Badger House.

They are known for their honesty, commitment, and hard work.

Students of this house are known to be generous, loyal, compassionate.

Head of House: Arthur Strode, History Professor

The third house is the house of the Raven, and the house of intelligence.

Synonymous with cunning and resourcefulness,

Ravens are not to be overlooked.

Head of House: Rowan Hallow, Potions Professor

Name: Isis Frost

Gender: Female

Age: 16

Wand: 13", Ebony, Dragon Heartstring with a Chimera Scale

House: Former Slytherin, Current Raven

Most Personal Desires:

1. To make a name for herself.

2. To be in control.

3. To be the best.

The truth about the headmaster's death?

The Prophet had described his killer as a white-haired, middle aged man, because that was what someone had thought that they had seen. The truth... well, Isis wasn't sure of the truth anymore. What she did know was what she and Bellatrix had been given a very important assignment the day that Hogwarts was supposed to fall: to get the Headmaster out of the way. Isis could still see the light leave his eyes as both girls uttered that single curse. Now, whose Killing Curse had gotten there first and actually taken his life? No one would ever know. It's not like it mattered to Isis. It had been a job and they had done it, as simple as that. She didn't regret a single thing about that night except maybe that one. Maybe the Headmaster's life shouldn't have been taken? Now, that was a crazy thought for someone like her, but truth be told Isis wasn't like everyone thought. She was by no means good, but she knew that the old professor's time had not been up. It would have been different if he had been a tyrant, or a captor, but he was neither. He was simply in the way.

"Miss Frost, is there something you wish to speak to me about?" The old headmaster's voice reached the raven-haired girl and her smiling expression froze. Did he know? How could he possibly know? He probably had no idea about her assignment. Well, it wasn't exactly her's anymore, but Bellatrix's as well. She'd been training for it all of her life and she knew that she would succeed. "Miss Frost?" Isis looked up sharply and cleared her throat.

"Of course not, professor," she replied respectfully. But by the look on his face, he wasn't believing her infallible act. Leaning in closer, Isis hoped he couldn't hear her heartbeat. How could he always seem to look right through her? No one had ever been able to do that before, and it bothered and frightened her.

"You know that anything you tell me will be completely confidential. If you needed help-" Isis cut him off, her face cold and her mind clear.

"Sorry professor, but I don't know what you're talking about. Now, I'd better not be late to Charms. Good day, sir."

Isis knew this wasn't guilt. She didn't feel bad because she had murdered someone. She felt grief for a great man - and he was indeed a great man. How could he have known that the two Slytherins who had asked to come and see him would be the very reason that Hogwarts would fall that night? As she slipped into the room Bella was supposed to meet her in, her usual smirk returned as well. If Isis weren't such a good actress, she would be dead by now. For all anyone else would know, she was gleaming with pride at the fact that the headmaster had fallen at their hands. As if she had enjoyed the killing. Even if she did enjoy a good torture now and again, Isis didn't think that she could ever truly enjoy killing for the sport. Maybe for revenge, but never for entertainment. Not like her dear cousin Bella. Bless her soul. "Bella," she greeted, her eyes sparkling with their secret.

"Lovely to see you, Issy," her cousin said with a smile. Ah, Bella. Her companion since they were old enough to know that they were cousins. Their resemblance was quite obvious, they both had the same long dark hair, the same prominent cheek bones, and green eyes. There was only one difference that kept them from looking like twins: Isis's hair was pin straight, while Bella's mane was a mass of wild curls. Both of them were now sixteen, Sixth years, though Bella had not been given the title of Prefect like she herself, it had never seemed like an issue.

"This certainly is a dreadful school, isn't it? They couldn't even be bothered to have a Serpent house," Isis complained lightly before taking a seat at the candle-lit table. Taking the girl's hands she kissed her cheek in their usual greeting.

Bella was quick to reply, not hiding her hatred for the castle. "Yes, it's simply dreadful, being called a Raven," her lip curling in disgust at the mention of the house she had been sorted into. "But there's less filth here, the blood traitors should be next," the words slipped from her tongue, and Isis's smirk widened as she continued.

"Father sent word only yesterday. They have been more successful than they could have ever dreamt," she said, leaning in and lowering her voice, "which means great rewards for us."

Isis knew that continuing to go to school would be a bit hard. Patronus Academy? What a load of bull. She'd been expecting to be out of school for years, giving her plenty of leisure time to do whatever the hell she wanted, train and practice when she wanted, but it appeared that was going to happen, as the new school ha been built over a the summer. With her father's 'campaign' for Minister, she was expected to be here. The events of the last year still haunted her, especially in her sleep. While her cousin Bellatrix seemed fine about the man they had been ordered to assassinate, Issy knew it was because the girl didn't even have a heart. Isis was sure she had one. Somewhere. When she wanted to...

But that final curse that had left her lips, silencing the old Headmaster forever, would eternally echo in the depths of her mind. Not that she would ever let it show that she had a morsel of regret for being responsible for the death of plenty and the capture of Hogwarts. It wasn't that she regretted anything. She didn't want to take back giving inside information and personally transporting several Dementors and dark wizards through the darkened halls of Hogwarts. It was killing a man she respected, a man who had never done anything but try to help her when she certainly didn't want to be helped. Isis's long black hair fell down in curly waves over her chest, which was only partially covered by her revealing dress that only fell down to her thighs. She had worn it because of Leonis Carrow, and had wanted to see how far down his mouth would hang.

Her long, slender legs carried up gracefully up the stairs to the Owlery, where she would maybe try to write and send a letter back home. Father had ordered her to write twice a week a report on the new school, but there was only so much she could really tell him. The school was well protected, and she knew that the Mistress would never get in. Just as she turned the corner though, her eyes caught sight of a very attractive male Badger. Dark brown hair fell perfectly into his eyes, and that face of his seemed to be sculpted by some kind of angel. Quidditch had turned him into a boy most sought after by the females of Hogwarts, and now Patronus Academy. His haunting green eyes found her own as if they had been waiting for her, and she immediately put up a face of disgust.

"Well, hullo," his voice said. No matter what she did, Isis would never admit exactly how attractive she found his voice. After all, he was filth. A mud-blood. "I see that her majesty has decided that this castle is fit to her liking and thought to grace it with her beautiful presence. I'm honestly surprised you're here. You, Dranzer, and Carrow..." Issy let a smirk cross her features at the word beautiful, but not because she thought he was complimenting her. No, she knew better than that. Damon Anglin had been her school rival since first year, when a load of her friends had been making fun of his impure blood. He had assumed that she had been too, and had pulled out his wand on her when he had found her by herself one day. Though no curses had ever been shared between them, a number of words had. They were known for disrupting class, verbal spars in the corridors, and having a knack for pissing each other off.

"Hello, Filth," she hissed. "I see you made it out of the desperate pit of Mud-Bloods that they called Hogwarts." Isis took a step closer so that they were only a few feet apart, her eyes narrowing almost playfully. "Tell me, what do you see when they pass you by? The Dementors... I hope it's me." Here she let out a cold laugh as she looked up into his piercing green eyes. Mud-Blood Anglin pretended to yawn, causing Issy to cross her arms and roll her eyes, unamused. She had seen the look flash in his eyes, knowing that he was covering up what she had made him feel.

"Sorry I find your humor boring. I don't think I'd laugh at that one if I was in primary school. But no, I don't see you when they pass by. The only people that are scared of you are ickle firsties and cats. Y'know, afraid you're going to use them for a sacrifice to your father... the devil?" Isis's stare narrowed and iced over.

"And you're such a saint, Mud-Blood. Would you care to share your latest reading for us? Let me guess... is it Dark Arts for Dimwits? Or If Only My Parents Weren't Such Unworthy Muggles?" Her eyes flashed much like his had as she remembered the time he had left his books in their DADA class, and she'd happened upon a text that she also owned, only it wasn't something she'd been expecting from Damon Anglin. "Better watch out for Damon Anglin. Maybe he'll turn out to be the next Lord Voldemort? Oh, maybe we can go sign up together when the Dementors have their next recruit," she replied easily and swiftly.

She would never forget the day that she had found the Dark Arts books in his possession. Books she herself owned and had studied once upon a time. She'd been training since she was old enough to hold a wand, her parents made sure of that. They didn't breed the perfect child so that she could have average magical skills. "Oh, don't be jealous, Frost. If you want some pointers, then I'll be glad to show you. Your place or mine?" he said, and Issy laughed again, rolling her eyes.

"Trust me Anglin, there's nothing you could show me that would impress me. I doubt you could teach me much, but I could show you a few things you can't get from your Muggle girls." Of course, now that they were teenagers, what with raging hormones and all, there was always an innuendo thrown into the conversation. "It's a shame you aren't worth anything, Mud-blood. Maybe I could put you to good use," Isis added, always having to mention something about how he was a piece of nothing. What kind of pure-blood would she be if she didn't? He took a step back, so Isis did as well, but she still stayed close enough to where she could reach out and touch him - not that she would, of course.

"Good use?" he asked, "You mean like Carrow? The bloke's a power hungry idiot, though I guess you go for guys like that. Or is he just a good shag? It's either that or his family's bribed you off so you don't tell everyone about his small problem." Actually, she didn't mean like Leonis. Isis had meant something else entirely. Something perhaps involving a use of restraints.

"If I were going for power hungry idiots with a tiny Johnson I would have headed straight your way, Anglin," she spat right back at him, adding a wink for flair.

Damon took a few steps back, a smirk evident on his face. "I have to admit, that was a good one. You're getting better. Did you buy the latest edition of Insults to Throw At Your Wizarding School Enemy? You sneaky girl." Isis found herself rolling her eyes. That tone of his was disgusting on anyone, let alone Damon Anglin. She hated it, but it didn't really get to her. Nothing Anglin ever said got past her barriers. "If I wasn't such a filthy mud-blood, and you were such a cold bitch, then maybe you would see how a real man does things."

Isis stood on her tiptoe and looked over him and then behind her, as if she were looking for something. "Do you know a real man then?" she asked. "Could you introduce me? Because there certainly aren't any around here." Her tone was much like Damon's, only it was as if she were speaking to a first year instead of a sixth. "But you're right probably for the first time in your life, if you weren't so worthless maybe I could show you a good time. And I may be a cold bitch, but you still probably have dreams about me anyway," Isis added in a low tone. The pristine Slytherin - oops, Raven took a step back. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I actually have more important things to do than converse with the likes of you. See you in class, Mud-blood." And with an extra sway of her hips just for his viewing purposes, she walked around him. So what if her feet carried her incredibly close - enough for him to get a nice eyeful. She glided off without another word or so much as a look backwards.

She would be lying if Isis ever said that she thought that Damon Anglin was truly filth. Sure he was an real pain in her arse, but she'd seen him in duels - though now that she thought about it she'd never actually been on the receiving on of his wand - and she'd seen him in classes. He wasn't weak, and he wasn't worthless, so when she greeted him with the name-calling and personal insults that she did it was for an entirely different reason. She had watched his eyes, because if anything was going to change on him, it would be his eyes. Isis was the same way, and she'd been around him long enough - six years, to be exact - to know him just as well as she knew herself. Like the fact that she knew he studied the Arts, but he had no idea the things that Isis had learned as well. While she had never been privileged enough to actually meet The Mistress, her father had taught her some things that she had shown him. Yes, being a Daddy's Girl certainly paid off when it came to being resourceful. She also knew who he hung around with, and was surprised that she didn't see Pretty Boy Wonder Richard Donnohan trailing after him like he normally did. Isis would see him later, like she always did. And she would always be ready for him. A dark smirk crossed her lips, as if she was learned a terrible secret.

Turning the corner and heading down the steps towards her common room, Isis rolled her eyes as she passed by a group of gossiping girls. As the girl walked by, their whispers and 'shh's grew until they realized exactly how obvious they were being. Issy silenced them with a look. Sometimes she almost found herself slipping into that petty routine, as if she actually cared what the silly bimbos thought about her. Isis Frost knew who she was - why should she let other people's opinions of her affect her? They hadn't ever before. But for some reason it seemed worse now, they all started to come together to form Patronus Academy. The whispering was more widespread, people moved out of her way when she walked by. These things that she should be used to - that she thought she was used to - had taken on a whole different tone. Either way, she didn't let any of this show on her face. What kind of lady would she be if she made a huge display over a few whispers in the hall? Not a Frost, that was for sure. Sure there were rumors her father was a leader of the dark forces, and sure there were rumors that Isis had aided in the Hogwarts takeover. But they were simply that, rumors.

Isis was nearly past the whole entire group, perfectly satisfied with letting everyone part for her. Bella would die if she saw this. Isis kept her head high, her eyes cold as she walked passed, and finally made it out the doors. That was when her façade fell. Taking a few deeps breaths, she rounded the corner and- BAM. She had run right into someone. The force would have sent her sprawling if not for her excellent balance, but she still struggled to stay upright. Looking up, she saw that it was a Lion, someone she was familiar with. His name was something Cromwell - Amos? Adam? - whatever it was she had no use for it. He was a Muggle-lover, unfit to even speak to her by the standards she was supposed to live by. But she hadn't always had these standards, had she? She could still smell the fresh paint of the dance studio, even to this day. But back to the git who had ran into her. He was another Quidditch player, but a Seeker or something, meaning he was too lazy to get buff like the rest of the team. Dark hair, but blue eyes. "Watch it, Cromwell," she barked at him, "Some of us are actually worthy of the air we breathe." The former Slytherin had been insulting people for so long now that it was not only second nature, but half-arsed. She rarely meant a word of it, but said it mostly for pretenses and no one knew the difference. Or so she thought.

"Ouch. Words can cut like a knife, sweetheart, didn't your mother ever tell you that?" Isis raised an eyebrow. Well, wasn't he feisty today? Of course, make a mother joke. Because that was always effective way to piss someone off really quickly. "Oh wait, she wouldn't have, because unlike the rest of humanity, pure-bloods don't give a crap about anyone else. What was that advice she gave you, again? Oh, right... 'Go, fight, kill!" Oh, there it was, the old pure-blood stereotype. Sometimes so-called blood traitors were just as bad as her parents. Couldn't anyone give her a break these days? "So, how's that working out for you?"

Isis really wasn't in the mood to get into a scuffle with some Harry Potter wannabe. If he wanted to take out his little frustrations on her, so be it. She'd have him tied up and begging to take back what he said if he wanted to keep going like he was. "It's working out pretty well, I just had my breakfast feast of little children's hopes and dreams and I'm working up an appetite for some Muggle-Born later," she said sardonically, licking her lips for effect. Of course this only lasted for so long before she rolled her eyes. "Honestly? You're just as bad as any pure-blood when you stereotype them. Why do you think we say all Muggles are filth? It's okay though, you can stoop down all you want, but in the end you'll be crushed like the rest of them," Issy said, narrowing her eyes dangerously. "Could you be any more ignorant? I suppose not, if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time, now would you?"

"Why should I pretend that I'm not just as bad as everyone else? If you can do it, then why in Merlin's name can't I?" Isis grinned here for the first time.

"Funny, and I thought you were supposed to be the 'good guy' here?" she asked, and rolled her eyes again. At least she knew that it wasn't going to come to wands today. Which was good, the stress she'd been under lately had put a damper on her magical abilities, and she didn't want to give Cromwell another reason to mock her.

"I could ask the same of you. What gives you the right to call them unworthy, then chastise me for doing the same to you?" Letting out a sigh, Isis was growing tired of this banter. To argue things she didn't really care for always tired her out, and today was an especially bad day. Couldn't he just call her a bitch and then move on?

"Because I'm a effing pure-blood, Cromwell, and I can do whatever the hell I want to. Happy?" she said, and attempted to move past him. But it would seem that she wasn't going to get off that fast. He took a step closer, blocking her path. "Ignorance is the curse of humanity, darling, and you'd best get used to it. Don't you ever get sick of being who they want you to be?"

Don't you ever get sick of being who they want you to be?

Isis froze, her last nerve finally hit. She was torn between crying - for her eyes were surely filling with tears now, as she stood there - and a fit of rage, as her fists began to ball up. She couldn't understand why this one little question elicited such an emotional response within her, and she didn't want to think about it. Her father may have loved his wealth, his position, his status, but Isis could hardly stand it anymore. She was sick of being who they wanted her to be. Who they demanded that she be. "Fuck off, Cromwell. You don't know a damn thing!" Isis hissed, and used all of her force, which wasn't much at the moment, to push against his chest and turn away from him, discreetly wiping the tears from her cheeks. Isis Frost didn't cry. Hell, she didn't even produce tears. He didn't know what she went though. He had no idea.

Isis turned away from him, but her legs froze and she found that she couldn't move. Her entire body shook with the held back rage and sadness, but she could not force herself to run away. That would have made things so much easier, if she could just run away from everything. But that wasn't how a Frost did things. Frosts faced their fears, overcame them, and did it all with good style and taste. "I may not know much, but I know that pretending to be something you're not can hurt so much it feels like you're dying. I know that we're not built for this, any of us. We'll never be who they want us to be. I know that it hurts, more than anything else." She didn't say a thing as he spoke. Why was he doing this? What did he have to gain from this? Just then, she felt it. It was a light touch on her shoulder. As soon as his hand landed, she froze. They remained that way for a moment, and then she began to tremble. It started off as a slight shiver in he heart, but then she was unable to stop. Tears welled up in her eyes once more, and her teeth gritted in her efforts to stop them.

"Don't. Pretend. Like. You. Know. Anything." She finally regained the strength to whirl away from him. Isis faced the boy, rage all present in her eyes, even though they were filled with tears. "Don't you understand? This is who I am! I am Isis Frost! I am a pure-blood!" In her rage she had drawn her wand, and held it to his face. She stood there for another moment or so, her breathing ragged and uneven, her eyes narrowed once more. "I know my place, Cromwell. It is time that you learned yours." Isis tried as hard as she could to remain strong, but she knew that her legs would give out in seconds if she didn't get away from his eyes. They were already beginning to haunt her, with that terrible stare of his. What made him think that he could do this to her? Who gave him that power over her? As she turned away from him, tearing off into the darkness, Isis realized that she had given him that power. And it scared her to death.

"Isis!" He called out to her, leaving it all up to the Ice Queen. A gesture stating that she still had a choice, whether or not she'd recognize it.