Dora walks out of the mist and into the foyer of the DMLE, a blunted bronze sword strapped to her back and a dagger running horizontally at the base of her spine. Instead of wizarding wear, she's wearing a comfortable, if baggy, tracksuit and hiking boots. Her ankle length hair is braided neatly into a wrist thick braid that reaches the base of her spine. After over a month of intense magical and physical training, the extra weight that she was carrying is mostly gone and she moves with a surety that she lacked before she started.
The Auror on duty startles as he looks up, "Ere, who are you, and where did you come from?"
Dora smiles at the Auror, "Don't you recognise me Simmons? And what did you do this time? Forget to clock out again?"
"No I don't bloody recognise you, and how do you know that?"
Dora finishes pulling her bag from the mist and takes out her ID, "Is the director in?"
"Tonks! You look completely different without your pink hair. And what's with the tattoo?"
"The director?"
"She's in, just head on through."
"Thanks"
Taking her ID back, Dora makes her way through to the offices, or the bullpen as they like to call it. Scanning the floor and failing to spot the Director she weaves her way through the desks and Auror's on duty over to the Directors office. As she walks past Moody's back, it occurs to her that everyone here is relying on him far too much. Because he hasn't reacted they all believe that she should be here. When she gets to the Directors office, she knocks and then walks in when she hears a grunt.
Taking a seat, she takes in Amelia with new eyes. There are bags underneath her eyes, and her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Rather than her normal monocle, she's wearing a pair of halfmoon wire glasses. On her desk are 5 textbook sized books on Celtic culture and society by Morgana. Three of them have bits of parchment seemingly randomly placed through out the books, the forth is open on the desk, and the last one is sat beside the other three.
Once she's been sitting there for 5 minutes, she comments, "You know, if you wanted to learn the basics of Celtic culture, there are easier ways to go about it."
Amelia looks up startled, her wand is in her hand and trained at Dora in the same movement.
"Who are you, and how did you get into my office?"
Dora puts her hand on her heart, "Boss, you don't recognise me? How about my markings? I guess it's to be expected, as I'd only been working here for a few months last time I saw you."
"Tonks?"
"In the flesh."
"Where have you been?"
"Not drowning myself in a bottle." Amelia manages to look sheepish while maintaining her poise, "I've been working and training my arse off. Several times I've wished that Moody was still my teacher."
"Has she released your metamorph powers yet?"
Dora shakes her head, "No, it's something I need to work out myself, apparently not only is it good training, but I also have time to develop my natural body at the same time. I do know the spell she used, apparently it was used by the Romans in Britain a lot, and it's bloody complicated, though Morgana says it's a simple spell. The wand motions are absolutely massive and I have no idea why. It's not as if they were teaching these spells across a parade ground."
Amelia touches one of the books, "Actually, they probably were. I ran the numbers, and if I'm right, the number of magicals was approaching 3% of their population. Morgana calls them mystics, priests, or chosen in the book."
Dora shrugs, "I know that priests didn't have to be magical, just devoted, if that helps." Amelia groans and makes a note on one of her bits of parchment, once she's done Dora continues, "Anyway, I'm here to hand in my resignation."
Amelia looks up sharply, "Are you sure?"
Dora nods, "I am, I'm just going to be too busy being Morgana's Secretary and Teaching Assistant."
"Oh?"
"It's the only way that gives Morgana time to train me. That and it's interesting."
"I will need your resignation in writing."
Dora nods and pulls a letter from her bag, and places it on the desk with her ID.
"Thank you, and I hope you'll keep in touch."
"I doubt this is the last you'll see of me. I'm going to be applying for a Hit Wizard licence as soon as Morgana says I can be trusted with more than a sharp letter opener."
"The sword?"
"A blunted training sword. The only reason I'm carrying it is I can't take stuff out of the mist fast enough yet. Oh, and a free piece of advice before I go. Everyone out there relies on Moody too much, and he's retiring in a couple of years. Honestly, I didn't even consider it myself until I just walked through the bullpen without once being questioned. I know and you know that Polyjuice is a thing, as are illusions and self-transfiguration. Remember what Moody always says?"
"Constant Vigilance."
"Exactly. In Celtic culture, all strangers would be met by a man outside the village or home. Once they'd passed guest rights they'd be escorted into village to meet with the women in charge. Until the women had ok'd the situation they wouldn't be left without an escort. Morgana taught me that this was simply a matter of practicality, as the lost of a man in those days was an inconvenience. The loss of a woman could be devastating. What would happen if someone imperioused Fudge, Umbridge, or even Malfoy? All of whom often waltz in here to demand the time of one of the heads.
"What I found interesting is it's also what they do in some mundane places. You check in at security and sign the visitors book, and then a security guard will escort you to the person you're there to meet. I've also got a nice collection of name tags too, little badges given out by security so that everyone can see you're a visitor."
"I see, and how do you suggest makes these changes?"
Dora shrugs, "Polyjuice a Dementor victim and then kill the body. Use one of the many corpse preservation spells and then do surprise drills where the person that donated the material for the Polyjuice takes Polyjuice themselves and pretends to try to assassinate themselves. If they get there successfully, unshrink the body and leave. Same with the imperious spell, one of you or a volunteer pretends to be imperioused and tries to get to one of the heads. If they succeed, leave the body and leave. Maybe give a bottle of ogdens, or a prepaid meal at the leaky or something to anyone that prevents the attempt."
"Where did you get these ideas from?"
"Do you have any idea how long and boring some of the meetings I've been to over the last month have been? And all to arrange classrooms for practical lessons. Where I could, I skipped out and chatted to the security guards. Anyway, I need to be off and share the news with my mum. Just a couple of things before I go, Morgana holds a class on Celtic traditions in Duncarron Medieval Village on the 1st Saturday of every month. She always opens with guest rights, and a brief explanation of them. The children were so cute with their gifts of salt and soft drinks. The second thing is, if you haven't already back off the bottle and apologise to Susan for drinking so heavily. So you know how you're going to die, big whoop, learn how to live so that when death does come for you, you know that you've lived well and died protecting something you care about."
Dora pulls the mist around her and slips into the Other still sitting down. The sore arse when the chair couldn't support her anymore was well worth seeing the look on her bosses face.
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Daphne, sitting in the dorm room, opens the letter that arrived at breakfast. It's from her father.
Daphne,
I have concluded my research into the students currently in Hufflepuff, and I find myself mystified about your decision to not only allow yourself to be part of this house, but also to sign up for muggle schooling. I'm sure that you will have an adequate explanation when you return home over Christmas, and I look forward to hearing it from you.
Your Father
Daphne crumples the letter in her hand as tears threaten to fall, even as she tries to shore up her occlumency shields.
Tracey finds her still sitting there several minutes later. Disappearing for a couple of seconds, she returns and pulls the pillows and blankets off her bed. After laying them out on the floor, she gently pulls Daphne down onto them, "What's the matter Daph? I haven't seen you like this since October."
Wordlessly Daphne hands over the letter. Tracey reads it and then blanches, "You'll be ok Daph, you've been learning loads of magic from Harry. I'll even admit that your shortcuts are actually quicker than walking across the school. Even if I absolutely hate following you when you take me with you."
Daphne leans into her oldest, and until recently only, friend, "I'm not ready, my occlumency is a joke and it still takes me a minute or two to step into the mist."
"Then ask for help. Merlin Daphne, I thought you'd figured that one out already."
"I… already owe Harry more than I can repay, how do I ask for more?"
"Daphne, I don't think he sees things the same way. What makes you think you owe him more than friendship?"
"Look at everything he's taught me already. He let's me use the secret garden, and, and…"
"Do you owe Snape, McGonagall, or Sprout anything?"
"No but they're paid to be teachers."
"And Harry is your friend. Besides, what about the rest of us?"
"Everyone's been great, but I have to deal with my father alone."
"Morgana, Le Fay I mean, not the scarily powerful Dr Danann," Daphne giggles, "this letter's got you backsliding. How much time have you spent helping the others with the political subtleties going on in Slytherin and sometimes Ravenclaw."
"Not that often."
"If you call once or twice a week not that often, then yeah sure."
"It's not that bad."
"Daph, I grew up with you, and I could only follow most of the stuff you talked about before you mentioned it. I swear Neville worships the ground you walk on for those explanations, Ernest and Justin aren't far behind. Susan always shushes Hannah when you start these explanations, and I've seen Harry paying attention more than once."
As her neck becomes sore, Daphne becomes aware of a weight on her head, "Evie, are you sitting on my head?"
"No." comes Ephis' voice from on top of her head.
"But you are on my head."
"Uh huh. You're sad, so I stayed to keep you company."
"Wouldn't you have been able to do that better if I knew you were there?"
This question seems to stump the sylph, so she changes the subject, "You use mist to conceal magic yes?"
Daphne sighs, "Yes, Harry has just started teaching me that."
"Ephi uses magic to conceal self. It's the same thing. So why not thoughts."
Daphne frowns, "How is it the same thing?"
"What do you want when you hide magic? Every Fae knows that want is what makes magic work. So what do you want when you hide magic?"
"Is it that simple?"
Ephis nods, "It's why we play hide and seek with Harry growing up. Want to hide, do hide."
Daphne looks poleaxed as everything Harry keeps saying about desire takes on a new perspective in her mind.
"Is it really that simple?"
"Uh huh, most young need to be taught to not want things. No, not not want, to want without magic. Yes, most young need to be taught to want without magic. Wanting without magic is hard, and sometimes Ephi forgets. But Great Queen teach Ephi well, so Ephi knows skill only old Pixies know."
Daphne smiles, "I'm going to buy you a bouquet of flowers for your help."
"Ephi likes flowers."
Tracey looks amused at both of them, "I take it that was important."
Daphne nods hard enough that Ephis transfers to Tracey's head, "It's so Merlin damned simple. It was literally in the first charms lesson we had, and Harry keeps talking about it."
"What?"
"Intent. Intent, desire, want, they all mean the same thing."
Daphne scrambles for her notes and comes back shaking in excitement, "Look, don't you see, Intent, Willpower, Knowledge. It's literally the first thing Professor Flitwick said about what is needed to use magic."
"So why do we use wands then?"
"That was in the same lesson after Harry did the light spell without the motion or words. See right here. Wand casting uses intent, vocals, and somatics. Harry used pure intent, but you can get the same thing with just the words and wand motions. That's why Roman magic is so common."
"Daph, you're confusing me."
"Trace, how many spells have we learnt so far this year?"
"Um, 6 or 7?"
"I've learnt one thing in Celtic magic, and I'm on the way to learning a second thing. I can travel through the Other on my own, and I'm learning to conceal and sense magic. Don't you see, the wand replaces intent, that means that..."
Tracy gapes as Daphne's notes float into the air and glow, "How are you doing that?"
A bead of sweat rolls down Daphne's face, "I'm using what I learnt with Celtic magic to cast the spells we learnt in charms. Merlin this is hard." Panting she lets the notes fall onto the blanket.
"Daphne," Tracey whispers, "only the strongest witches and wizards can do wandless magic."
Daphne shakes her head, "Trace, I've been doing wandless magic for months now. I just didn't realise I could use it on spells. Also I could literally feel my magic straining to do that."
"Are you ok? Do we need to take you to Madam Pomphrey to check for magical exhaustion?"
Daphne laughs, "Trace, my reserves are fine, watch." She pulls her wand and with a flick and a swish she levitates the papers, "See?"
"Daph, can you teach this to me?"
Daphne shakes her head, "Sorry, I can't yet, as I couldn't help you if something went wrong. If you got lost, nobody could find you and you'd either have to find your own way out, or you'd eventually die."
"Daph, you're scaring me."
"I know, that's why you need someone that Harry or his mother say can teach you. It's not like asking one of the upper years to teach you a spell. Even with that, I almost got myself killed during my first lesson."
"You're not helping."
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Morgana and Marianne have been walking through the mist for hours as Morgana tries to find Airmed's domain. Eventually Marianne stops.
"Mum, what are we looking for?"
"Airmed's domain, you know that."
"I know, but that doesn't tell me what you're looking for, just what you want to find."
Morgana sighs, "Airmed has somehow concealed her domain in the mist, so I'm looking for a trace of her magic. Once I find that I can follow it to her."
"Well, can we have a rest for a bit as I'm tired and there's a field just there." Marianne points to her left.
Morgana looks up surprised, and then her eyes widen in understanding, "Sure, you'll need to lead me as I can't see what you're looking at."
As they exit the mist onto a hilly plane dotted with woodlands, a woman appears in front of Morgana, "Get out, get out. Is it not enough that you stood by while my brother was killed, and that you weren't there when what few followers and companions I had were slaughtered by the Christians. You now have to torment me here?"
Marianne steps in front of Morgana, "We're just looking for Arimed and I was tired. Can we stay here until I've had a nap please?"
The woman looks down at Marianne, "Why do you want Arimed child?"
Marianne sniffs as she remembers that evening, "When my father tortured me for witchcraft, we found out that mum1 was tortured by him before I was born. Something in her mind broke and she's now a slave to men."
"So why seek out Arimed and not her father Dian Cécht?"
Marianne looks at her like she's stupid, "He's a man duh! We want to heal my mum not make her worse."
Bitterly the woman snarls, "Why would that matter, he's the Greatest Healer of the Danann."
"Why don't you like whoever Dian Cécht is?"
"Because he killed my brother out of jealousy."
Marianne lays her hand on the woman's arm, "I understand. My father was going to kill me too. I was lucky that Morgana was able to save me, I'm sorry she wasn't able to save your brother."
"Her grandson, she couldn't stop her own son from killing her grandson."
"Mum, is this true?"
Morgana nods sadly, "It is, I was at the other end of Ireland and I didn't find out about it until Canta had already scattered the best magical working I've ever heard of." She looks up at the woman, "Isn't that right Arimed, you created 365 herbs that day, each one able to heal a specific part of the body."
