NEW BLOOD INTERNATIONAL ACADEMY

Disclaimer: I own only the original characters in this story. All other characters belong to their creators.

Chapter Two

The State Of Things (Part 2)

'...And bY 990A.D., year of the birth of Britain's first paranormal institution, cruelty had finally blessed mankind. With a ferocity rarely even seen within the animal kingdom, humanity clawed and gouged itself apart ignoring remorse, mercy or the calls for peace. Many a Magical fled, going even deeper into hiding than previously attempted, and a new hunting game arose among the Righteous as they tracked down the demon worshippers and tore away and slaughtered even the helpless babes at their mother's breast. By 1023A.D., Hogwarts's class attendance had dropped by over 33% and the school founders deemed it foolhardy to remain in a Viking-infested England. Bathed in shadows one cloud-filled night, they crept away from their small rundown schoolhouse in London, to a miniscule farmhouse located in isolated Ireland.

By 1053A.D., those without paranormal abilities had begun to ascertain the magicals various modes of accessing their God-cursed sorcery. Suspected persons could expect a sudden breaking and entering of their homes in the middle of the night in order to catch them off guard and without possession of their focus. Magicals took to chanting their foci invisible and sleeping with them either underneath their pillows or on their person.

In 1065A.D., Hunters received word that a 'devil-worshipping' school had apparently sprung up within Britain when an excited and exceedingly curious young girl in England asked her mother about the nice Lady, of some obvious breeding and stature, who had invited her to a magical school called Hogwarts. Her questions cost her her life. Rowena Ravenclaw, a Hogwarts founder, was inconsolable at the news.

By 1078A.D., muggles (as Magicals had begun to call non-magicals) were actively torturing their own offsprings into becoming both unwilling spies and subsequent guides to other classmates' homes. Hogwarts took another 10% blow to their student population and within a year seven old Magical lines went extinct. Panicked, Hogwarts was yet again relocated from the moors of

Ireland to a newly built obnoxiously grandiose Mansion in Scotland that later evolved into an even more incredible castle. A new field called Warding was created and Hogwarts founders layered exorbitantly their new warding schemes into every brick in their new home.

With the close calls experienced by several Magical families many began to argue against the inclusion of children of muggle heritage into the school or even the Magical community. Some, including the Hogwarts founder Salazar Slytherin, cited the several severe security breaches occurring. Their opponents, including founder Godric Gryffindor, pointed out that you cannot punish the many for the few. The subject became a source of contention within the Magical community and ignited several increasingly heated arguments between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

...And then in 1082A.D., Hogwarts was attacked.

Although the newly crafted wards held up to the invasion, new students and visiting children caught outside those wards were dragged into the nearby forest, stripped naked and had the word Demon carved with a sharp stone on their foreheads before being subsequently hanged. Thirteen Magical children were lost that day. Among them was Slytherin's nine year old son.

The consequent spectacular argument between a grief-filled Slytherin and a stubborn Gryffindor who insisted that he was right sparked an awe-inspiring duel between the two founders and resulted in Salazar leaving the very next day never to return.

By the time Tom Riddle had graced Wizarding Britain with his presence, relations between Muggleborns and 'Purebloods' were tense at the least, and violent at the worst. Many were still...wary of inviting those of non-magical bloodlines within their midst, and those coming from the other side did not truly understand the level of persecution Magicals had experienced, nor the extreme need for secrecy. They wanted to tell everyone about magic. Their friends, their family, their neighbours, everyone. It has always been difficult to impose on an eleven year old Muggleborn the absolute need for an oath of silence. Not when they lived in a society that encouraged children to either mingle and share or otherwise experience societal rejection. Many Muggleborns, unable to share anything about their school or new society, suffered huge strains that led to fractured relationships between parent and child, or any friends that might have existed before magic school.

In truth, after a while of being within a Wizarding prejudice society, Muggleborns grew to resent this absolute break from the society of their childhood. They were, and rightly so, upset

that the beautiful fantasy painted for them on receiving their school letters was just that. Most, unable to find gainful employment in the Wizarding World, shuffled on back to their muggle society, uneducated, culturally lost and resentful of the Wizarding World for their lost years. There was nowhere in Europe that this situation was worse than in Britain.

Whilst Magical society has clearly forgotten most of the reasons they were even wary of muggleborns, and the history of Hogwarts has been twisted beyond almost all recognition, our parents continue to teach their learned behaviour to their children. Muggleborns are viewed as 'lesser' in almost the entire of European Magical Nations, and with suspicion, hostility and outright rejection dogging their every step, they receive the message loud and clear that 'You are not one of us'. This kind of discrimination has even spread to any that is not of ancient magical bloodlines or 'Purebloods', though the only group treated worse than Muggleborns are those with non-human blood in their veins.

It is noteworthy that over the years since Hogwarts founding, magic has been reduced to lazy murmurs of the days of Merlin. Many Magicals have taken the rejection of Muggleborns to the extreme point of rejecting anything remotely non-magical regardless of the sheer amount of benefits to be gained from it. New research techniques were ignored, new inventions scoffed at and even improved hygienic practices took centuries to be implemented. Anything, whether it be idea or item that was non-magical in origin received almost universal instant rejection. In this vein, many Muggleborns' suggestions of improvement and change were looked upon with contempt, an incapability to mesh into Magical society, and a condescending attitude to a Magical's traditions and way of life.

It is sad to note that far from just ensuring complete safety, The Statute of Secrecy had the most unpleasant side-effect of stunting Magical society's growth. Without the need to look over their shoulders, Wizards and Witches ignored their non-magical neighbours and began to luxuriate in their own illusions of superiority over every other living creature on the planet, be they magical or muggle, human or non-human. It would take a minor miracle, or perhaps a world wizarding war, to remove the cancer called prejudice which is now so deeply rooted within the superego of the average magical.'

-Julius .E. Malfoy (1979), 'The Lost Book of Hogwarts A History' (page 34 - 35).

Even before he had stepped foot in Hogwarts, he had already felt the sting of extreme Wizarding prejudice. That Lupin brat, the Mudblood slut's son whom a Werewolf, smelling the taint in his blood, had bestowed upon him its own curse. Being a Half-Blood and a new Werewolf with a Mudblood mother had made life exceedingly unpleasant both at home and in his little community. He survived, but without friends or a loving family Remus Lupin had grown up believing himself worth less than nothing.

The first time the Professor saw Lupin, he was a scared, skinny little brat with oversized clothing and huge eyes. Five boys surrounded him partaking in the absolutely riveting sport of bullying, malicious smiles planted firmly on their faces. He watched as the boy curled into a ball, trying to minimize the amount of damage dealt to him, then turned to walk away. This was not his country. He wasn't dealing with this shit.

The next time he saw Remus Lupin he was just exiting a grocery store. He sported at least a dozen cuts and bruises on his arms and legs, his clothes were torn and dirty, and there was a suspicious bruise around his neck. He briefly wondered why with this world's healing abilities that no one had ensured the boy got medical treatment. One of the child's bags fell and feeling generous and a bit sympathetic the Professor helped him pick up the groceries, casually slipping a slim book within the shocked boy's bag. He did not expect the child to even understand what was written but at some point the boy would learn to read and perhaps utilize the martial arts textbook to better aid himself.

The third time he saw Remus Lupin he was tearing apart the bullies surrounding him with a ferocity that belied the calm look of concentration on his face. He was slow, his footwork poor, and more times than not he over-extended his punches. If his tormentors had been anybody but schoolyard thugs he would have been trashed within an inch of his life. Considering it had only been a week since the child had received the text and the Professor hadn't even expected him to be able to read at his age, this was very good results indeed. At the end of it all the boy stepped over the bullies, picked up his dusty books, and with a look of concentration banished the dirt and tears from his clothing though the bruises remained. Casually strolling away, Remus remained unaware that his rather incredible feat had been witnessed by a suddenly keenly interested individual. For that was not untrained magic.

The fourth time The Professor came across Remus J. Lupin, he was standing over the freshly dug graves of two of his best friends. Grief warred with confusion as to why only one headstone existed. Anger bubbled within and threatened to destroy the increasingly fragile control he maintained over his Werewolf side. The meeting was no accident.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Closing his eyes in pain the Werewolf ignored the man standing behind him as he tried to pull himself together. His self-made family were in ruins; three best friends dead, and one other thrown in prison for their betrayal. That friend, the betrayer, may as well be dead as far as he was concerned. He couldn't even get close to his little godson because of that old bastard Dumbledore's wards on the house.

Remus' hand tightened into a fist. He had practically riddled the old geezer with letters before he finally got a reply via phoenix. Oh it was politely written but Remus could read between the lines loud and clear. Dark creature indeed. What was the point of suppressing so many of his Werewolf traits if no one saw beyond the wolf anyway?

Fisting his hand so hard his nails drew blood, Remus swallowed the scream that threatened to leave his throat as his grief was suddenly over with his intense anger. He had just lost his entire family and that...man...had the...gall...dammit he wanted his godson! He would never hurt him! He wanted his bright-eyed one tooth toddling terror of a godson so he could take the two of them the hell away from this crazy country that was already bestowing the name 'The Boy Who Lived' on him. Then again, perhaps Dumbledore knew him well enough to know that was exactly what Remus intended to do. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself into the calm that had helped him keep his head in dire circumstances more often than he cared to think about.

"You sure you want me to apprentice to you?"

The Professor was not surprised by the sudden question. He had been prepared to calmly wait out the Wizard.

"Yes."

Looking up to the sky Remus sighed.

"Do you know what I am?"

The Professor did not miss the bitterness in the question.

"You are a Wizard."

"I am a Half-Blood."

"You are still a Wizard."

"I am a Werewolf."

"Irrelevant."

With a sudden resurgence of his anger, Remus wheeled around with superhuman speed to face the fool and then attacked. It was the first time in many a year that he did not care to hide his Werewolf traits nor even for the consequences of his actions. Irrelevant? Such arrogance. Never in his life had he felt such blinding anger.

The Professor allowed Remus to get close before faster than Remus could see he casually reached out to break both his arms and his right leg then flung him over his head without even tapping in any of his actual strength. The toss resulted in Remus hitting the tree behind the Professor with loud cracking sounds that normally accompanied having bones broken. Wheezing and in pain, Remus slowly looked up in shock through the blood now freely running down his face and into his eye. The Professor looked like he hadn't even moved. His expression had yet to change.

"Yes, rather irrelevant actually. If just being a werewolf enables you to be able to pick a fight and win Remus-san then I deserve to lose and suffer whatever consequences come my way." Giving him a kind smile he continued.

"I think that you might benefit from an environment more conducive to learning than you will find in Britain. You need a far more well-rounded education than you have thus far received. I have quite a few requirements and very high standards you need to fulfill before I deem you a Battle Mage."

He narrowed his eyes at him.

"You will find this apprenticeship the hardest thing you have ever done, Remus-san. I believe I should be asking you if you are sure? I can give you the tools that will allow you to protect those you deem precious to you, will make you even more powerful than this dark lord that was just vanquished. I can teach you to wield power in ways that will make your enemies tremble at your name. I can do all of this Remus-san, but if you do not want this, cannot taste this and want this even in your sleep then you will only ever be average regardless of all that you learn. You can be great Remus Lupin but," he suddenly stared at him hard, power glowing in those dark eyes, "do you want it?"

Coughing harshly Remus stared at the ground in silence as he struggled to breathe without pain. It felt like his ribs were broken. In one dimension a grief-filled Remus rejects the offer out of fear of becoming like the beast within him. He would eventually try again to gain access to his honorary godson, fail, and leave the country to wander muggle Europe depressed and reliant on job hopping. In that world he would never touch any of his potential. In that world Remus Lupin would become only a shadow of his former self. Several minutes passed before Remus looked up and the Professor noted that for the first time since he had met this quiet yet talented brat, that it was both beings that stared out of that pair of cold brown-yellow eyes.

"Yes."

And with that Remus disappeared from Britain for the next twelve years.

New Blood International Academy (attendance was part of The Professor's requirements) was an eye-opener for Remus. In truth, for the first three years it was a seriously humiliating experience. Originally signed in for the Mundane Martial Arts, Battle Magics and Elemental Battle Manipulation degree, Remus found himself struggling for the first time in his life to even keep up with the material. He was severely behind his peers. After the first week his Battle Strategics teacher took him aside and suggested putting the degree on hold and doing the advanced level track first, perhaps even doing a few classes at the local primary school in order to catch up. Having to sit in classes with students ten years your junior at a primary school of all things made the Werewolf thankful that there was no one he knew living on this island. For Remus, a known genius at Hogwarts, it was a rather humbling experience.

For five years he worked hard in his primary and advanced lessons coming to love the odd hour of classes, the unique subjects offered and his lecturers encouragement of heated discussions in class. The library alone was worth attending the school and reading 'The Lost Book of Hogwarts A History' was very enlightening. The course load and pace was tiring, especially put on top of the Professor's own teachings, but for the first time in his life Remus felt challenged.

In his second year he met his first Were Draug (the name for a born Werewolf) who took it upon himself to educate him on their ways. Jeff Anderson had lived his entire life on Ivor Lonnath (Crystal Haven) and therefore was frequently confused by his new friend's shame in his Werewolf status. He asked around and got a private tutor versed in Were combat, politics and social norms for Remus since he seemed completely lost about...well everything really. It's true that New Blood taught the basics in Magical Customs and Traditions class but it was the Magical Clan's responsibility to provide a tutor for what the school didn't teach. Remus though seemed woefully lost when asked what clan he belonged to and it was an amused Professor who finally answered Jeff that Britain didn't have Magical Clans but only Magical houses. Laughingly, the Professor thought to explain to his confused apprentice and his equally confused friend.

"Magical Clans are rare in Western Europe Remus-kun, though they are the norm everywhere else. A Clan actually incorporates several Magical houses. For example, three houses could belong to three different countries but be part of the same Clan. A Magical Clan is responsible for the well being of all their members. Whilst clothing, housing and such are normally left to a Magical house, the Clan could step in if need be. The Clan is also responsible for ensuring every member is educated about every magical aspect of themselves. The Head determines set Clan knowledge that every member must be taught regardless of location, language, race or blood status. If a member is unable to learn the magical aspects he/she is excused from that section of Clan knowledge but must learn everything else. Even persons marrying into the Clan are given tutors in any unknown aspects of Clan knowledge.

Magical Clans also incorporate mundane families with magical members. When unattached new bloods arrive on Ivor Lonnath, Clan scouts take note of those they find impressive and can request and receive from the school their class scores, power level, achievements and the like. This procedure holds true for most Magical schools not located in Europe. Joining a Clan is not mandatory however, being part of one allows you entry to certain aspects of Magical society you would otherwise be unable to access. At the end of their attendance the majority of new bloods and their families will be invited to a meeting to talk about membership by at least one of the Clans. If they accept then they, their family and any other magical child to show up within their immediate family will be incorporated into one of the Clan's Magical houses. This is the real reason why Magical Clans are rare in Europe, where prejudice is the bread and butter of the people. It is perhaps a great pity since Magical Clan magic is so powerful that Magicals and even non-Magicals born into the clan tend to develop some sort of unique magical ability."

"Like me!" Jeff interrupted proudly. "I'm the first Were Draug of my house and the third in Clan Animaniacs. Shocked my parents I did when I transformed on a full moon when I was three."

After the explanation Remus got a strange look on his face before giving his teacher a rather furious glare.

"Wait! You mean to tell me you knew people would be looking at my grades and didn't tell me! Wait wait! Come back here!"

The Professor just grinned and, whistling gaily, calmly walked away from his suddenly homicidal student...

The years went by and at the end of nine years of study at New Blood, Remus could honestly say he was a different person. He no longer needed a wand to do magic and yet he'd never felt better or more powerful in his life. He loved everything about the school and the island and its inhabitants who didn't bat an eye at hearing he was a Werewolf. He loved his modern apartment with it's modern appliances complements of MagiTech. He couldn't believe he once thought talking through a fireplace a good idea. He had decided to do three degrees at the same time to meet New Blood's ten-year deadline, the original degree he had been signed up for and Runecrafting and Fuuinjutsu, a double degree programme. Two master degrees had been part of the requirements for a Battle Mage Degree as outlined by his contract, but Remus had fallen in love with Fuuinjutsu during his advanced classes and he desperately wanted to go further. It had been HARD making it work especially because the Professor had taken his

training up to a new level and he was so damn tired everyday but he was happy. After graduation he had been shocked to be approached by seven Clans though two in particular caught his attention: Clan Nara and Clan Animaniacs.

Clan Animaniacs was a Clan specializing in animal magical abilities. Every member born into the Clan, whether Magical or non-Magical, had at least one animagus form, an animal form, that they could turn into. Remus had been pretty shocked when he heard that. In addition to that, the Clan also spouted large amounts of Metamorphmagi (people with the ability to modify their bodies with but a thought) and had strong spiritual ties with Spirit Animals, especially the coyote. Remus had a strong suspicion though that the invite from Animaniacs was due more to Jeff's friendship than his overwhelming abilities as a Were.

It was the offer from Clan Nara though that had shocked him to the core. Clan Nara was a Clan specializing in the use of the mind. Every single member, including those who marry into the Clan, was a certifiable genius. Every single member could use mind magics at a level that was downright scary. In addition to that, the Clan was also known for one of the greatest intelligence networks in the world. They had people everywhere, in every walk of life. Why on earth did they want him? He worked hard yes but he was no genius (he couldn't even lie to himself after New Blood), nor did he have contacts who could be of use to such a Clan. He was not sure he should accept since he really had nothing to offer.

Remus fell in love with the Nara Building he was taken to the moment he stepped through the door. The floor was some sort of clear crystal, as were the walls and roof and stairs and...books! Scrolls! EVERYWHERE! The crystal was some sort of casing and it was like a house made of books and scrolls and Remus was in absolute heaven. Shikaku Nara watched the glassy-eyed man with the large loopy smile hug the staircase in absolute amusement. Well then. His information on Lupin certainly seems to be right. The man would fit right in though he had to wonder if Lupin wouldn't have a heart attack if he ever saw headquarters. This was only a small information satellite after all and didn't even have any computers…

Remus' next three years were split between personal training with The Professor and Clan training. Both pushed him to his limits and beyond. The Professor had acquired a training partner for him, some scarecrow looking man with only one lazy-looking eye uncovered, and an even lazier voice. Apparently he had been given the daunting long-term mission of getting Remus to his own level in two years.

The scarecrow took great joy in beating the shit out of him at every available opportunity.

Remus learnt very quickly to utilize every single thing he had been taught and took to carrying pointy objects to bed since the man had the terrible habit of ambushing him in his sleep. He haunted the various Nara libraries on the island at all hours looking for some technique that could give him an advantage. He brewed poison antidotes whenever he got the time so he wouldn't die from the scarecrow's poisoned weapons or poison in his food. He actually taught himself to sew just so he could create his own clothes, using acromantula silk thread dyed in sealing ink or blood to carefully sew in seals and runes of all kinds in the disguise of clothing designs. Dammit! It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you!

The first time the scarecrow saw his new clothes his uncovered eye widened a little and he put away the little orange book he was always reading. Unfortunately, he uncovered his other eye and Remus still had his...posterior...handed to him in a basket. Damn.

As for Clan training well, Remus could honestly say he passed Snape's mind abilities within six months. The Nara Clan was remarkable and his tutor, whilst demanding, was very patient. He was also given espionage training, a few taijutsu scrolls and additional magical attacks to complement his battle mage training. Oh and also a debit card for an account with a monthly allowance though that one came from his new Magical house, the Spellmans. He really loved his life.

Which is why when he walked into his flat to find a lounging, smirking Shikaku casually stroking a red phoenix with a rolled up parchment bearing his name in Dumbledore's scrawl, he immediately started scowling.