Hello All, welcome back to the story. Glad to see many of the reviews seeming to enjoy it more now that we're in the final stages! I know that many of you miss the romance and the interactions between Emily and Atticus and this chapter is centred on it! Enjoy!
Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next three chapters are available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117
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"Alright" she said softly, her dark blue eyes shone before a gleam entered her eyes. "I will have my answers first however" Her lips thinned to a thin line, the rosy haze on her cheeks disappeared nearly as soon as it appeared "Why you decided to distance yourself from me" her voice was harsh but it could not hide the fragility behind it "When we were meant to do everything together" She said in a slight vindictive manner.
"Alright" he said agreeably in a soft tone "I had planned on doing it anyway" he admitted to her.
"And you better explain why your face looks like…that" Her words lacked any kind of bite but there was a hint of curious concern in her tone.
Atticus smiled kindly at her before he brought her hand to his lips and gave it a chaste kiss before he guided her to the sofa.
She simply raised an eyebrow in expectation and he took a deep breath.
It was going to be a difficult night, he knew.
"Well…" he began.
He looked at those expectant eyes.
He had thought on how to…break the news and no amount of words would show enough what had happened.
As he stared at those dark blue eyes that belonged to the girl he loved, the girl who joined him in his future ambitions in ways that he knew many would not have.
He could see her soul, a brightness that eclipsed all that he had seen before in sheer intensity bar one…though where that one was so tainted that it might as well have been considered to be something else entirely, hers was as crystal clear as the shallowest of azure water even if at the fringes there were marks of harshness, jagged edges that fed into her core being.
Her soul was powerful, one that spoke deeply of her abilities, of her strength but it also spoke of the…potential she held for diving into the path of destruction and cruelty, the jagged edges that remained at the edges turning into cracks that would travel the core of her soul, shattering who she was, who she could be…
It made him wonder…the effect of being raised in a…less than conducive environment against genetics and other influences…
As he looked at her, he could not help but be reminded of what he had thought during his most desperate moment, when he had thought of his family, the consequences of what his actions would reap and yet…
He did not truly consider the consequences of what his actions would have on Emily…
He knew that she would be left rudderless, in so much so that the path, her path, he had so painstakingly…and lovingly…changed, would become more and more likely than it was not, despite all of his efforts.
He would not change what had happened, he did not regret his decision to keep her in the dark but it was no longer sustainable.
She is part of his family, his partner in every sense of the word. His wife to be.
He held a great many secrets, and he held a great many secrets on behalf of people. But it would be time to divulge many of them soon and he hoped she would not hold it against him…too much.
He wasn't confident about that he thought wryly. It wouldn't be an easy conversation…
"It might be easier to just show you" Atticus' voice was softy, velvety, and his still glowing eyes bored into her.
He touched the sofa with his bare hand and enlargened before he brought both of his legs on the sofa and crossed them opposite her.
Emily POV
She resisted the urge to narrow her eyes in suspicion. Whatever had happened to make him like…this had to be nothing she would like, even if she could feel the power practically rolling off him in ways she had not felt from him before.
He was a veritable star, waves of magic exuded from him, the kind that even the dullest mage could feel in their very bones.
She knew, then, that he had reached a pinnacle that she had only dreamed of reaching and, amongst the jealously she felt, not as slight as it was, it made her only want to hungrily know what had happened for him to become…this.
There was no doubt though that it made her heart race, as if a lightning bolt struck her heart, dancing to the tune of her ceaseless desire and she had to clench her fists slightly, focusing on ensuring that she would not give any outward reaction at how…excited she felt in the presence of the sheer power he exuded when she had first seen him after so long.
The suspicion of his sudden appearance – and the victory it entailed with the power that rolled off of him – and his current look had damped that excitement…considerably as feeling of hurt, anger and…concern washed over her though she had managed to keep that hidden in her calculating eyes and accusatory words.
She hated the…vulnerability he caused in her and it made her all the more determined to not let him out of her sights for longer than need be.
After all, those…annoyances would not disturb her if she was around and from what she could see of him, that line of thought only strengthened in her mind.
His face looked cracked, glowing lines crisscrossed his face that seemed to pulse with magical power, as if his body could not truly contain all of the magic he possessed in that moment but she knew it was false for she could feel the control he held over his magic, despite the small moment of blip when his magic raced at the sight of her.
"It might be easer just to show you" he spoke softly to her as they remained fixed on each other.
He changed the sofa with the mere touch of the hand and sat across her with both of his legs underneath him.
She searched his face for any indication, for any insights that she might gain from the smallest tick of his facial muscles but there were none.
"Alright" she said finally after several moments of silence before she did the same as Atticus, their knees touching and her face tightened as she worked on her mind.
She created a gap in front of her Occlumency shields to allow the easy transmission of images and after a few moments, she was ready. Atticus had closed his glowing eyes and soon enough, they pried open, the glowing white eyes were a stark difference to the eyes that had in part enthralled her at the beginning, eyes sparkled when he had spoken of his grand ambitions that he had for their world and magic.
These ones…these white orbs that tried to pass as eyes seemed to be far from the beautiful galaxy like eyes that seemed to have all it could gaze upon at his feet…at their feet.
She did not like these ones, eyes that seemed to see beyond her and she would do what she could to bring back the eyes that belonged to her.
"Ready?" he spoke softly as his thumb circled the back of her hand.
She gave a curt nod as she straightened her back and soon enough streams of images were seared into her mind as, for the first time, she saw the kind of visions that Atticus was subject to.
She saw the abstract nature of a great many visions, the serpent against black raven and red crow and she saw the vague battles that Atticus saw again and again, sometimes different from the previous visions of the same battles that he had seen.
That in itself was interesting…it meant that the future was changeable and she felt a kind of…relief. Now she knew, for certain, that nothing was fixed and she could wrestle the path of the universe with her bare hands if need be.
The images stopped and a small gasp escaped the small gap between her lips as she tightened her body a little as her mind processed the images at a fast pace. She gained a new found understanding of Seers and the sheer…randomness of what their visions showed though that train of thought paled in comparison to what she had learned from the images.
She had never seen what Atticus Saw before and the visions gave her a new perspective into the field of Divination. She had always dismissed it, knowing that she could never excel in it, beyond using it to as a way to find things rather than using it in a way that allows her an advantage over her enemies.
Perhaps she should not have dismissed it so readily…
Once she was done, her eyes swivelled back to Atticus' and her eyes looked upon him with such fire, anger and indignation, all that masked the fear she felt, before she controlled herself and squashed her turbulent emotions until a slumbering ember of rage remained and she looked at him with a smothering gaze.
"You distanced yourself because you were uncertain that you would win and because of the…concern you felt for me?" Her eyes held a look of such coldness that it may as well have been two icebergs adrift in the arctic sea.
"Yes" he answered softly though seemingly unrepentant and she withdrew her hands from his as a consequence.
He seemed to be unbothered by this if not for the slight tightening of the corners of his mouth.
"If you knew how…doubtful I was about the battle you would have come"
A bout of rage burbled inside of her and she could not prevent her rage from showing in her voice "And that would have been my right, Atticusssssssssssssssssssss" her voice descended into a menacing hiss and drew herself up not unlike a cobra would raise itself, baring its hood as it stood against an enemy, a threat.
Atticus merely half smiled at her, unfazed by the looming threat she practically radiated, one that carried vestiges of sadness and remorse "I know" he said in a near whisper, his eyes dimming and familiar purple and green shined through the glowing mist of white. "But I could not risk it" he shook his head, his shoulder length hair swayed slightly in the motion "Not when I know you were not ready to face one like Grindelwald" His eyes shifting back to the powerful white glow even if his tone was tender, gentle.
Her face morphed back into an expression of cool indifference, one without creases or fault on her pristine porcelain skin, the white hot rage that had contorted within her had collapsed in itself, the rage of being underestimated turned all consuming.
Her magic swelled, burbled underneath her skin as she turned her near black eyes onto Atticus.
She may love Atticus, feel the nearest thing that she could understand of love…but at this moment in time, she hated him for the dismissive attitude he held of her abilities.
"I see…" Her voice was low, her melodious voice, one that normally was pleasant to the ears of man was anything but and carried undertones of promise, promise that was nothing good or pleasant.
"So you kept me ignorant in your belief that I am weak, not even strong enough for you to tell me the truth of the threat of Grindelwald?" It sent waves of vindictive pleasure through her as she saw his eyes widen though it was soon overshadowed by a grim realisation that he did see her as weak.
His eyes hardened, the glow dimmed in his eyes as his magic began to gather around him. "Never have I ever believed you to be weak" he said with such fervour, passion, and his magic seemed to rise like a powerful wave with such ease and strength that it nearly took her aback but her anger held fast.
"You are by far the strongest person I know and I include myself in this" the corners of his lips sharpened as a small soft smile cut across his face, his head tilting as he looked at her. "You are relentless, Emily Slytherin" he uttered, belief in his words shining through "And I look forward to seeing what you will accomplish with your genius, your power and utter tenacity" His voice was as smooth as a waveless sea, his words doing much to quell her indignation though not her anger.
"But you have seen my visions, now, what I was subjected to" His hand ran through his hair, his brows creasing into a frown as he looked to the side "time and again, visions that showed not victory but merely a battle, one that seemed to shift and change more frequently than any other vision I have ever had, more so than the vision of my…" Atticus trailed off and they fell into a fragile silence.
Emily clenched her teeth slightly. She understood what he was saying, she understood. The visions she had seen from him were far from clear, merely highlighted the sheer scale of the conflict.
It did not mean he was absolved from hiding from her and keeping her in the dark.
Atticus placed his palm on her thigh, his thumb caressing it, her muscles slackened by the merest of degrees under his touch.
"The visions did not show an aftermath, an 'after'" Atticus grimaced slightly before he looked away "It seemed like the battle was a key point in my own personal history, one that overshadowed all other possible futures to such a degree that it cast a large shadow on everything" Atticus' face showed a hint of disturbance.
She forced herself to remain calm at what she was hearing despite the gnawing pain that took root in her chest. She had refused to believe the prospect of Atticus dying, just as she refused herself from ever facing death.
It had been unthinkable he could die, not after he completed his seven by seven ritual that ensured that he could survive even the most grievous of injuries and yet here he was, claiming that he knew of the possibility of his death and continued on anyway.
Atticus continued as he stared at her, his voice remained calm despite the turbulent magic that Emily was giving off "I did not withhold this because I do not believe in you or your strength, that you are not at the level of Grindelwald's or my own power and prowess but because I was uncertain of my own fate against Grindelwald, my own rituals seemingly unable to protect me from death" Atticus paused for a moment as their eyes met, sincerity shining through his eyes.
Emily looked away, unwilling to allow her expressionless face to crack under his gaze. The sheer destruction and power the visions hinted at…and the power that practically dripped from Atticus…all of it hinted at an enemy that was insurmountable to her and that feeling of inadequacy burned deep within her, an echo of what she had thought she had left behind, back when she learned who she truly was, reverberated within her.
"How could I subject you to such uncertainty?" He posed to her, leaving the implied point that if he was unable to guarantee his own safety when he had completed his rituals, how could he guarantee hers when she had not undergone them yet. She was close to informing him that she was in fact already near immortal but he continued before she could retort "I was not willing to damn you in the path I had chosen" Atticus finished.
"Enough" Emily near growled out.
Emily snapped her eyes at Atticus, her hand swept forward and gripped, tightly, onto Atticus' hand that had been on her thigh "Do you still not understand?" Her voice dripped with barely hidden anger "There is no your path" She hissed out furiously as she leaned forward, her hair falling over her face as her breathing grew heavy and her dark blue eyes radiant with intensity showed through the crevices of her hair.
"Did you not once ask me to join you on a path of incomparable greatness?" she whispered to him, her magic becoming tangible.
His eyes widened at the reminder.
Her hand let go of his, the marks of her nails showed on his skin from the pressure she had held him under. Blood had been drawn in the shape of her nails and she looked down at his hand and it began to heal under her eyes, once more unmarred and unchanged, and she remembered, vividly that it was the same hand that he extended to her as they orbited the Earth in the wake of the admission of the ambitions he held.
She looked back at him "You say that you do not believe me weak but your actions prove otherwise" her voice was cruel, her words as sharp as a knife's edge as she bore down her near black eyes at him.
"Let me finish" she said in a constricted whisper when he made out to speak. He remained silent.
"You took away my right to act when you denied me the truth, no matter how you say it, you lied to me, by omission of the truth" She shook her head, her anger building as magic began to bend around her.
She turned her half lidded eyes to him, studying every crevice of his face. She could see he was struggling to remain quiet, a silent plea was apparent in his eyes but she was not done.
"Are we not bound together, our path one and the same?" She said softly, throwing back at him the words he had said to her when the topic of marriage had threatened to become a problem.
When the prospect of giving up control, her independence, her body had been galling to her and yet he had fought for her right for independence, as equals bound together for eternity as part of their condition for marriage.
She had compromised on it then, to keep what she had pretended she never wanted in the first place, love and to belong, two things she had before disdained and derisively derided with utmost contempt.
Just as she compromised on the topic of children, the little parasites that she knew she would have to spawn someday even if it could be hundreds of years in the future.
Was this the consequence of her weakness? That she lost what made her great, so much so that she had to be protected?
She looked at the root of that weakness, her fears of merely becoming known as Atticus' wife had come to the forefront of her mind, her fears of him going back on his word…
These were not actions of one who considered the other an equal.
She drew herself up, a gleam having entered her eyes. She was Emily Slytherin.
She was magic.
Greater.
The heir of Slytherin. The serpent speaker. The Devil's spawn that would lie, manipulate and torment those who were lesser than her if they dared become a nuisance.
Greatness was always within her destiny and she would never relinquish it, not even to him.
She would bring him to consider her in everything he does. Her eyes sharpened to slits as a cloud of stormy resolve settled within her, words being discarded and chosen within mere seconds as she set on her course.
"When I agreed to marry you" she began slowly, her melodious voice picking up volume as she spoke "I understood it as the final binding of our fates" She stared at him with dispassionate eyes that was ill suited for the fragile conversation they were having.
"And yet…I find myself doubting your sincerity to adhering what you have claimed so often" Her eyes closed for a moment as she let her words settle into Atticus' mind.
She may be manipulating the situation in a vindictive streak to transmit the same kind of hurt she was feeling but she felt justified in doing so.
The imbalance between them needed to be eradicated for he continued as he was, who was to say he would not do it again?
That she would come to learn of his…demise after the fact, his need to 'protect' her and to keep secrets marking her unable to do anything, left helpless like a filthy muggle as he laid dead, forever gone from her.
That mere thought caused a feeling of terror and rage that threatened to overwhelm her, to crack the illusion she was holding.
She had thought his ability to See events to come would ensure that any threats they could deal with before they became an issue but if what he was saying is true, that his visions could blind them if they prove to be a key point in time…
Any doubt and uncertainty that he Saw could spiral into something neither of them could avoid, especially if he kept it to himself, falsely believing that it is how things should be.
She knew she was being hypocritical, after all, she was searching for ways of immortality but that was not on the same scale Atticus kept secrets.
His were promise breakers, they led to oaths and bindings that they swore to one another to be broken under his careless and cruel actions even if they were under the guise of protection.
He was hers and she would do all she could to ensure he never left her side…
…willingly or not.
She reopened her eyes and saw Atticus clenching his teeth as he stared her with unflinching eyes, remorse etched in the deepest part of his being.
Good.
"That you will no longer keep anything from me, to never control me or the situation even if it was not your intention and yet…" she trailed off into a whisper
"And yet that is what I find you doing…again and again." She said with the most tender of voices as she looked at him.
"Tell me…" her voice was deceptively soft "Was all of it a lie? To change me to your whims-"
"NO" he whispered in a strained voice as he leaned forward, placing his palms on her thighs, his grip slowly increasing in strength as they stared at each other.
"Then what is it, Atticus?" Emily whispered to him, her voice carrying a sincerity to it that was true.
"Are we not equals, the world at our feet?" Her hand travelled to his face, her hand cupping his cheek and she felt the rough hairs of his face and stroked her index finger on them.
"We are." Atticus said to her in a whisper as he leaned into her touch "You are my love, my lady and the woman I will spend as much of eternity with" he told her as they held their gaze and her heart fluttered at the admission, the anger that had blossomed into a fiery pit of hell began to freeze under the gentle breeze of his words.
"I did not lie to you, at least I did not intend to." Atticus sighed inaudibly before he looked at her beseechingly "I only wanted to protect you, to ensure you would not face the fate that seemed to be possible for me"
His eyes shone in determination "Can you blame me for wanting to protect what is most precious to me? To ensure I do not drag you to the same possible end that seemed so possible as it had been for me?" his voice was soft, his words fell out of his mouth as easily as a gentle stream of water travelled downriver.
She loved him, truly she did but did he not understand that she would face Death herself to ensure neither of them were parted?
Was he such a fool that he could not understand what his death would do to her? That she meant what she had said, that they were forever bound to each other? That she would tear at the very fabric of reality to ensure they would never be parted?
She was selfish, always looking out for her own self interest. After all, it made no sense to do anything for no reward.
People were merely there to be manipulated, to be made to do her bidding, to move where she wanted them moved. She was honest about that, at least to herself and to Atticus. She did not hide that aspect of her being, not like those like Dumbledore did under a veneer of goodness. People did not matter to her, their deaths did not matter to her, only what their lives and deaths would bring her.
Atticus was different. He was not a piece to be moved, he was the other side of her coin, one half of an invaluable coin.
Did he not understand that he was an exception, that she could not even fathom his death?
Atticus was hers, power was a secondary desire when it came down to what she was willing to do without – even if she would never be in such a position. Did he not understand she would ensure that she would never be alone again, not after having obtained her greatest treasure?
That she was willing to raze the entire world, magical and muggle alike to ensure that they would be the only ones standing if it came down to it?
She would not tell him this, not if he did not yet understand and she was not done, she needed to make sure he would never keep her in the dark of things that concerned him, even if it was but the smallest of things.
Her eyes cooled as she stared at him with half lidded eyes "You seem to have forgotten, Atticus Sayre, who I am" she said as a malevolent smirk split the seams of her mouth, one that brought history and what ifs to the forefront.
"Your willingness to protect me is…appreciated" she said in a humming, musical tone that contrasted darkly whilst her eyes darkened whilst magic began to become visible, tendrils of her magic gathered around her as the room filled with her magic.
She raised her hand and turned her hand palm upwards and extended. A small flame flickered into existence before it grew into three, four, eight times as large, its red flames turning to dark blue, the heat it exuded would have been unbearable had she not controlled it as easily as one controlled breathing.
It cast a heartless shadow onto her face, her dark blue eyes drew light onto itself like an all-consuming tear in space, marking her eyes an abyssal ocean of promised malice and fury.
The magic in the room grew heavy and darker, as if cheer and light had been extinguished, dark blue wisps of magic began to exude from Emily and it began to extend towards Atticus, his calm but powerful magic was restrained despite the pressure she was exuding.
Her eyelids drooped, she turned away from the oppressive flames and glanced at Atticus with half lidded eyes, meeting his guarded eyes.
"But ultimately, unnecessary" she said as she extinguished it with but a dismissive wave of the hand all while keeping eye contact with Atticus and drew back some of her magic, the room shifting back to its normal state "I might not be as powerful as you, yet" she admitted to him "But that does not mean I need your protection" and to further press the point she was making, she raised her hand to her left palm and pressed her finger onto it before trailing downward, a line of blood having left where she had cut into her palm.
Atticus' eyes widened as it healed right in front of him, understanding creeping into his bones. "How…"
Silk soft smile cut across Emily's porcelain skin, her blood red lips twisting up the right side of her face, arrogance crept in her voice when she spoke "As I said…I might not be as powerful as you, yet but that does not mean I am not your superior in other ways" Atticus' eyes snapped towards hers, intrigue and intense curiosity glimmering.
"I see…" he said after a moment passed, the weight of meaning of those two measly words was heavy, one laden with things she imagined whirled in his mind.
A soft chuckle broke through his lips, a shake of the head and a look of admiration in his eyes was what she was rewarded with, the conclusions and decisions reached by Atticus sent a tingling warmth down her chest. "I was wrong" he finally said "I knew this when I decided and I knew it even more when you used my words against me" he paused for a moment "And now you simply have shown me my folly" he sighed. "And yet, there is a part of me that does not regret wanting to protect you even if you do not need it"
"There is not much I would not give you" he said as he brought his hand to her face and she intercepted, intertwining her fingers with his. She played with her fingers for a moment before she set her eyes back at him.
"And is trust one of them?" she wondered aloud, their gaze fixed "Is it too much to ask that you put your trust in me, to tell me what problems you face or have Seen so that we can eradicate it together?" her voice picked up in strength as her eyes began to shine in intensity whilst she drew herself up "We are to be greatest Magicals in the history of our kind, no challenge will be insurmountable."
She looked down before she placed her other hand on Atticus' which was still gripping her thigh so hard that she could feel the dullest of pain and she glanced at him "But that will only happen if you trust me, respect me to tell me things that I would hate to hear but would want to know" she finished with a soft tone, her mellifluous tone was as breezy as a summer's wind.
"Your path is my path, just as my path is your path and that means that we walk alongside each other" she said in a firm tone, her eyes shone with fire. 'Even if meant death' was left unspoken but he understood.
She would ensure it would never come to death, of course. Death was not an option for either of them and she knew she would have to make sure that Atticus would heed it, knowingly or not.
Atticus said nothing after a moment even as their gazes were fixed on each other until he spoke "I do trust you and I have put my trust in you, more than I have in anyone else" a small smile graced his lips, one that was always only reserved for her before it fell off "Alright" he said finally, a knowing glance passed through in his eyes for the briefest moment before he nodded to her, both of them having reached an understanding.
Emily's eyes turned razor sharp "You will not keep anything like this or anything that even hints at your death again?" she asked with an intense gaze as their hands parted and Atticus placed both of his hands back on her thighs.
Whilst she was…tempted to be told every little detail of his dream visions, she knew it was unrealistic. She was willing to trust him to keep her informed of what may come but she knew enough of his personality that he still liked to keep things close to himself.
Not that she disagreed with it, in principle, but there was a limit to what secrecy she willing to endure. They may be independent but it did not mean that they were separate.
"I won't" Atticus promised her. "Grindelwald…" Atticus trailed for a moment as a far off look entered his gaze "Grindelwald was the exception." Atticus turned to her "There won't be many others of his strength capable of defeating me, at least in the near future" Atticus eyes refocused as they met Emily's even as she processed his words, focusing on the word he used…
Grindelwald was the exception…
"I hope you understand though…" he said in a soft whisper as his hand moved towards her face, the tips of his fingers brushing so expertly against her cheek before he brushed the errant locks of her hair behind her ear "I will always want to protect you, even if I know none can even touch your shadows" Atticus eyes were as bright as starlight "I will not hide from you information that pertains to my future, or yours, but know that nothing will stand in my way to ensure none can ever even act against you" Atticus' words sent shivers down her spine, the very magic that surrounded them rippled at his proclamation, as if he was speaking into the fabric of reality itself.
"I know" She gave off a soft smile, the first one of the night as she grabbed the hand that stroked her hair behind her ear and squeezed slightly, signalling her reciprocity.
She'd rip out entire family trees of those people, even the merest trickle of blood that ran in the veins shared with those who even dared to attack Atticus would meet an ignoble fate that would make the fabled end of Prometheus seem like a mercy.
Nothing was said between for a moment as the reigns of their magic was loosened and magic twisted and swirled around them, like two black holes inevitably dancing around each other until they became one.
She sighed contently, she had missed this, the throbbing connection of their magic that no words could ever adequately describe. Though…where before it had felt endless, it was now more akin to a feeling of infinity, a kind of weight existed within his magic that felt unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time, as if his magic now had a core of steel and power that fit seamlessly. She was infinitely curious to find out how he had achieved such a thing though…her curiosity over what happened with Grindelwald took precedence.
Emily's gaze refocused as looked at him "So you have killed him" She stated, a simple fact she had known the moment he arrived.
His eyes grew guarded. "I have not killed him" he admitted to her, much to her surprise "At least I don't think so but I have defeated him" he confirmed instead "It was…" he trailed off as he looked from her "the closest I've come to death"
Emily stilled as Atticus spoke the truth of what she had suspected with the visions and his eagerness to prevent her of knowing how likely it was he was going to die.
Atticus continued "He was far more powerful than I had imagined" Atticus chuckled a little bitterly "Honestly, despite the fact I despise him with every fibre of my being, I can respect his power if nothing else" Atticus shook his head. "What it took…" he trailed off as his glowing eyes looked into the distance.
"Show me" Emily demanded, her voice was as harsh a barren desert and Atticus turned and looked at her with an indescribable look in his eyes which she met readily.
Atticus closed his eyes before he spoke "Before we continue" Atticus reopened his eyes, the white glow having ceased and his normal eyes returned as the white lines that crisscrossed his face began to dim and fade.
'So he does have control over it then' she mused to herself as she watched with fascination at the fading lines. His skin became faultless once more but more importantly, she could sense his magic ebb away from the vast ocean that it was and return to a more familiar depth and feel that she knew of his magic.
She would learn what it was and see if she could make her own. It looked familiar to the lightning ability granted by the same ritual she underwent, though in her case it was water.
If he could use it to the degree that he has, there was little reason she could not.
"You need to know that there may be family secrets involved" Atticus said softly.
Emily flashed her eyes in displeasure something Atticus easily noted and he continued "I will tell of one and show you the root of the other as soon as Hogwarts ends" he promised her.
She paused for a moment as she considered it before she looked at him with a gleam in her eye "Then you'll be happy to know that I'm expecting the results of my OWLS and NEWTS tomorrow"
Atticus looked a bit surprised at that before he tilted his head in a questioning fashion "I thought you wanted to stay the full seven years?"
She shook her head "There is little purpose in me staying longer than necessary". That was true after all, Hogwarts was hers and she did not need to be here to ensure that her rules remained intact even if it was not the main reason why she was disembarking of her family home. She glanced at him with a cool gaze as she curled her lips, hints of menace shining through "We've been parted too long and it seems that I cannot truly leave you to your own devices for too long" her voice was honeyed, sweet as the most succulent peach though the undertone of her words were undeniable.
Atticus' eyebrows raised dramatically "I…see" he said a little slowly as the gears in his mind turned. "And I take it it's not up for discussion?" he questioned though there were hints of humour in his tone, his lips threatened to upturn.
Emily simply smiled as she leaned back onto the sofa, a daring glint in her eyes.
Atticus lips twitched "Well played" he said with a warm tone, his hands caressing higher up her thigh as he glanced at her knowingly.
A shiver ran down her spine as his hands moved up and up and up until she placed her hands on top of them, stopping them from progressing and looked into his eyes.
He knew her so well. No doubt he knew she was manipulating him into accepting her coming with him with no argument but let do her do it anyway.
"Wasn't there something you were going to show me?" she said in a serious tone and a quirked brow. She was not against…playing…but she was far too curious about the actual battle to be distracted.
He withdrew his hands and his face shifted, a serious expression fell on his face "Prepare your mind again" he paused for a moment before he looked at her a pensive look "Though I would reinforce your Occlumency a little more than normal. It might put a strain on your mind, what I am to show you"
She looked at him with a calculating gaze before sat up again, her hands she did as he bid and prepared her mind.
She would never deny that she was intensely curious about the battle, to see what the supposed greatest Dark Lord in the world was capable of and what Atticus was capable of when he wasn't fighting restrained as he was when they fought.
She had trained, relentlessly and she knew she was significantly better than the last time they had fought but she had no true comparison. The Room of Requirement was excellent at conjuring enemies based on her mind but Atticus rarely fought with true intent to harm and she could never quite get the room to create an enemy that was more powerful she was.
She wasn't entirely sure if it was because she was too narcissistic, that her mind itself could not conjure an enemy that was able to defeat her, only an opponent in the mould of Atticus that could only stalemate her.
The visions served to increase that desire of hers, the desire of seeing a battle to the death – though safe in the knowledge that Atticus had won –, the sheer destructive nature shown did not show, truly, what was happening in them…or what would happen beyond a vague guide of the to and fro of the battle, the darker elements seeming to have a greater strength and weight than the bright colours.
She met his eyes again and nodded and she gasped audibly as the weight of the memories assaulted her.
A battle, a fight to the death of such proportions that it spat in the face all she knew of magical combat. It was glorious, the array of spells, of ruthlessness and sheer power that she felt herself sink into the memories without a lifeline as she took it all in.
Atticus' memories were filled with depths of magic that she had only seen mere whispers about, the vivid streams of magic that he saw, that he had hinted to her about, were all there for her to see and she had hungrily feasted on it, just as she feasted gluttonously at the kinds of magic in display in the battle.
Grindelwald had been a maestro of magic, of dark magic, spells flew she had not even read about, let alone envisioned existing and Atticus had been a conductor, weaving, treading and shaping reality itself to his whims and his will.
Here were two masters of magic, two enemies who did all they could to kill one another and she wondered, if perhaps, they were merely artists but instead of using a brush to paint, to use a scalpel to carve stone, they were instead using the world itself, shaping and destroying as they went, each of them attempting to outdo themselves as a great ode to Lady Magic herself.
Grindelwald was a storm of dark magic, even the mere sight of it had mesmerised her, though, she could feel it be wrong, in a way she did not quite understand. Dark Magic, to her, felt like pure power in her veins, all of it waiting to be unleashed by a mere expression of her will and it was a warm balm to her whereas Grindelwald's felt like a dreadful itch induced by a coat that should have felt comforting but was instead shiver inducing, like sickening icy spikes that lined the inside seam of the coat, one that made her feel empty, wrong and ravenous.
She wondered, briefly, if this was the consequence of dark magic but she had dismissed it, knowing that Grindelwald must have done something wrong to feel like this.
Atticus had been a wonder, he stood like a lumbering giant of a tree against a raging storm that attempted to cut him down again and again and yet Atticus stood fast and hit back as hard as he could against an unrelenting storm, one that faltered with each strike of the branch, disrupting the flow of the storm. Grindelwald could not pierce through his thick bark though he had left cuts that signalled the great saga that was wrought. The kinds of spells he had used, especially that spell that utterly caused near annihilation had made her speechless and made her eyes gleam in rabid excitement just as she saw Grindelwald survive what should have been unsurvivable.
Her eyes glittered in unhidden curiosity at the way he seemed to have lost years as a consequence of the attack, her mind whirling at the implication.
It was a battle that made her crave more, her jealousy a mere afterthought as she set herself new goals to achieve and surpass the heights of the two in the battle before her.
She had never seen anything more inspiring…
And never anything so…shocking.
She knew she was powerful, far more powerful than any her age but to see what two Realised Archmages were capable of…
And the thought that crept into her mind was just as shocking…
'When did Atticus become this powerful?'
Atticus had not completely used his strength when they had duelled, she knew this but she realised now that he had not used a significant portion of his power in their duels.
Was this the difference between magical maturities? That she would at least need one more before she could call upon the kinds of depth of magic both of them had access to?
That thought mollified her a great deal in terms of knowing that she would eventually reach the kind of level of power both of them displayed even if it meant admitting to her own…present inadequacy.
The battle drew to a close and Grindelwald's age, experience and speed seemed to wear Atticus down, Grindelwald unleashed a kind of magic that had sent shivers down her spine, terror had seeped into her bones, her stomach twisting into an agonising knot when she saw Atticus on his knees, black flames seeking to erase him from existence.
She watched with hate burning inside of her as Grindelwald taunted and promised Atticus of the death of his family, she watched with bated breath as Atticus seemed to jolt into awareness as he left the crumbling cave of self loathing that had been flooded with guilt and misery, all of which she had felt to a degree she had never felt before and she had to enforce her Occlumency to its maximum.
She felt as he desperately sought something out and to her great surprise, it answered and she felt what he had felt, something more, something near inexplicable had joined with him and she watched as he exploded into a shower of power, magic made manifest to a degree that left her satiated in a way that crept into every fibre of her being.
For the first time she was in disbelief, not even her imagination could have conjured up what she had felt and understood of the universe around them, the depth, the vastness, the beauty of all that was around them.
She saw it all, through Atticus' eyes, existence in a way that had left her unable to explain for no words explained the magnificence of what she saw.
Magic.
She saw magic in all its glory, she knew it in her very soul.
It reminded her of the first time she had learnt she was magic, which had been like a glass ceiling breaking right above her, the limits that existed for her amongst the mundane and grey people she had been cursed to dwell with had been forever shattered.
Tonight…
She had another such glass ceiling break.
But instead of showing her Diagon Alley, Hogwarts…
It showed her the universe as it was, a world that magic touched to a degree that would make even the most devout Christian weep at the beauty and beg forgiveness from Magic herself for his heresy.
Atticus destroyed Grindelwald, she saw the life ebbing away from him but not conclusively proving he was dead for he was snatched away, the final victory having slipped through Atticus' fingers.
Soon enough, she was out and she breathed heavily, she felt a migraine growing as she closed her eyes to steady herself.
What she had seen…
She reopened her eyes after she calmed herself slightly and she looked down at her trembling hands, and her skin was paler than it should have been and she knew her composure was shattered.
She looked at Atticus with new eyes, and she knew she must have had an expression that made it seem as if she was seeing him for the first time because he only smiled at her with a kind, gentle smile before he looked past her.
What she saw of him…
Emily knew she was brilliant, a prodigy unmatched in her age group, likely unmatched by anyone who is not north of fifty years of age when it comes to power except a select very few.
Emily knew of the kind of witch she would become, one that would be heralded as the single greatest witch to have been born…
But she knew it would take time.
It would take years, decades of learning, of searching, of becoming…
She saw the pinnacle that Gellert Grindelwald reached with the decades he had. He was as close as to the representations of the pantheons of the Ancient world one could get.
Powerful with no one as a peer.
Except for the one who sat opposite her, a barely turned man, a fourth of Grindelwald's age, decades of less experience and one who had not even reached his final maturity!
It was monstrous that he was able to fight Grindelwald as long as he did, combating with Grindelwald who had not been holding back.
And she knew, that she was nowhere at that stage…yet and her lips clasped shut, forming a seamless mouth, unable to even speak such words into the world despite the truth of it and she broke into a laughter, the sound of her laugh sounding less joyous and resembled more a continuous scoff.
Truly…
Would his surprises never end?
Grindelwald's survival seemed trivial, however laughingly that might have been had she not witnessed one of the greatest displays of magic that only proved how insignificant muggles were under the power that was magic.
She mused to herself, for a brief moment, whether or not she could tolerate such further surprises, when it highlighted a true disparity between them, one that truly signified the depth of his superiority when it came to magic, at this moment in time.
She turned her ocean deep blue eyes onto Atticus and found her answer to her own question. "How" she uttered, the word conveying multiple meanings and depth.
"I don't know how…or why…but I seem to have connected with magic to a level that I don't quite understand…yet" he turned her, the greens in his eyes twinkling against a backdrop of an Amethyst Sea "It was as if I was parched plant, crying to the heavens to unleash even the merest of trickles" Atticus shook his head though she was uncertain of the reason behind it.
"It was…" Atticus struggled to come up with an adequate, something she had found herself agree with. "…More" he finally said, the word, in its simplicity held a kind of meaning that more descriptive words would have merely seemed less.
"I know…I felt it" she said in a haltering tone, her mind dizzy with the number of times she replayed those scenes in her mind again and again, doing the utmost to feel what Atticus had felt.
Atticus smiled at her softly and he nodded "I…I wanted you to feel what I felt, to experience what I experienced" He turned his gaze away from her, looking at the library that carried ancient tomes of Salazar Slytherin himself.
Her eyes unfocused for a moment. She had felt everything he felt, not just the magic but the emotions too, the cautious determination that had taken root in him, the nervous excitement he felt at the prospect of fighting against someone who was one of the very few who could outright kill him…
She felt his desperation, his agony and guilt during his most harrowing moment.
Emotions she had never experienced. She had felt despair and fear of course but never guilt, never that. It was a foreign emotion to her and it perplexed her at how…terrible it felt.
She never wanted to feel such…weakness again and yet it seemed to have been a trigger for Atticus, to inspire him to something she still had difficulty in grasping.
"Before…that" she began slowly, her eyes turning razor sharp "It seemed like you could see magic – not to the scale that you saw after you…" she trailed off and he picked up easily enough.
"That" he began, his eyes remaining away from her even as he angled his head slightly towards her "Was my family ability" she narrowed her eyes at him whilst he continued "My family ability that had been in my family since the beginning days of the Middle Kingdom"
Her eyes widened at that admission. That was nearly four thousand years.
"It is the ability to decipher and solve problems at a supernatural rate. No forms of magic is difficult to understand for those of my line that carry the fullest extent of the ability" he told her.
Her mind whirled with the information she received before she snapped her eyes at Atticus "So that is how you were so advanced?" she accused a little even though she carried the tone of curiosity in her voice.
Atticus chuckled softly leaning back and his hair fell down his front. "Yes and no" he admitted to her "I would likely have always been good at magic, even without my family's ability"
"But never as good as you are now" she cut in.
He hummed "likely not at the age I am now" he agreed after a moment and he turned to her "That is why I am always so impressed at your skill, power…genius" he looked at her with warm eyes "If we were at the same age" he halted for the briefest millisecond, one that most would not have caught "with the same advantages, you would likely have been stronger and more skilled than I would be" he told her.
She kept her expression controlled though she preened under his praise and his admittance, especially when he readily showed her his sincerity of his words with the way he left his Occlumency shields down to radiate his emotions.
It was something he did often when he was around her and it was something she picked up on doing herself. It was a strange cathartic way of relieving a knot that she had not previously known had existed. She had also discovered not too long ago that she had unconsciously suppressed much of her own emotions, what little she had, and during her more…temperamental times in her youth it spiked and unleashed like a tidal wave.
She made no outward expression to his praise, except for the emotions he could clearly feel from her from the way his soft smile widened a little and asked "This family ability of yours…is that the extent of it?" she asked, knowing full well that surely that couldn't have been it, not from the way magic had looked to her.
He shook his head "No…it's merely the beginning" he paused for a moment "The best way to describe it is Metamorphmagi." Her eyes widened in understanding.
"No doubt it's far more useful than being a full blooded metamorph" she stated shrewdly as she eyed him.
He chuckled "True enough." He looked at her with a certain look in his eyes "This is a family secret, one that only spouses learn about and that is under an oath and this has happened for centuries" his eyes grew a little more guarded "I am breaking a tradition, an important one" the words didn't need to be said at what he was implying with this telling of his family's ability.
She leaned forward, rising on her knees until she sat on his lap, gazing down at him as her fingers crawled the contours of his cheeks "We are already closer bound than majority of your ancestors may have been" she told him softly, her eyes never leaving his.
He made no expression for a moment until the edges of his eyes creased, his guards falling "We are" he said finally as his hands travelled underneath her skirt, higher and higher, his rough hands that touched her thighs and then more with the deftest of touches which sent shivers of pleasure down her spine.
It seemed like he noticed from the look of amused lust that shone in his eyes "Nevertheless, the family trait, at its most powerful will enable my family to see magic at a different level and it is said that the most capable of our family were those who could use ambient magic as they pleased, shaping it and commanding it to their whims, nature itself was theirs…ours to command"
Emily leaned back from him, her hands stopped caressing his cheeks as she looked hard at him "Is that what happened at the end?" she questioned with unblinking eyes, hiding a small amount of sourness she was feeling.
She had thought it might have been something she could have learned to use, to shape magic…to feel magic like he did then.
"I don't know" he admitted before he looked her in the eyes "Remember my experiments with Nature Magic?" he asked her and she raised her brow before she hummed affirmatively.
"Well, I don't quite know where it started." He paused for a moment, seemingly to try and recollect the events that led to his change "I don't know if it's because of family ability that enabled my near merging with the surrounding magic, or if it's because of the Nature Magic that I dabbled with or because of the lightning element that I fused with myself with" he shrugged slightly before he frowned "It's hard to say what has more influence but it might well be that all of it had some influence"
She pondered it. So it seems like was an accidental occurrence, something that could not be replicated? "Can you control it?" she asked
Instead of answering her with words, he showed her, glowing white lines returned on his face and she gasped before she clutched onto his shoulders as waves of pure magic ebbed from him like a tsunami, seeking to plunge the world under the weight and strength of his magic.
Just as soon as it arrived, it left him.
"And before you ask, yes I think you can attain some version of it at least" her head swivelled so hard that one could almost imagine her head snapping like a whip. Her eyes burned with hunger and it wildly amused him and answered the unasked question.
"You will need to learn Nature Magic, something you have not done because you were not as keen as to risk losing your magic"
"How you were ever willing to risk, I will never know" she said with narrowed eyes "But it seems like it truly paid off." And to feel like that again, through her own efforts instead of through Atticus was almost worth risking her magic.
"And it will be worth it for you as well, at significantly less risk as well" he told her
"Impossible" she responded and he turned towards her with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "If that had been possible, there would have been many people well versed in Nature Magic"
"True" he admitted easily enough "But they hadn't been given the key to the universe" his eyes gleamed and she prodded him on, impatiently with a pointed look, her perfect thin eyebrows rising slightly as she stared down at him from atop his lap.
His eyes dimmed slightly. "Even now, despite the incredibly dim state I see the universe in, I can still see more than I did before and part of what I see, is patterns, pulses of magic that I can" he extended his hand to her right, his index finger flicking at some imaginary thing, the briefest glow was emitted, until it dawned at her.
She had seen the wisps, strands of magic that seemed to float in the world at the beginning before that turned into brightly coloured highways that seemed as thick and heavy as water itself.
"You can affect magic on that level?" her voice was on a whisper.
Magical beings could use magic of course but it was their own magic, on that lied within a certain frequency inherent to their species. Just like Magical creatures had their own frequency.
Wands were made with differing frequencies, meshing together to somehow tune into a frequency that suited the variation that witches and witches had unique to them – though from the research that Atticus had suggested that family magic tied into this frequency as well – if Atticus was saying what she thought he was saying…
He turned to her, his eyes gleaming and simply nodded.
Her eyes turned into slits, a purring growl escaped her throat "Do you realise I'm going to have to do so much more now" and he started to laugh, heartily before she pushed him down the bed, her hands travelled to his wrists and she held him down though from the look on his face, he did so with no resistance from his end.
Her hair fell down her face as she brought her face close to Atticus' face, the ends of her locks brushing against his necks at that either side, their noses mere centimetres apart.
"Of course" he said in a smug tone, one that matched his smirk that he wore, his eyes twinkling with mischief "Can't have you resting on your natural talent all too much"
She rolled her eyes at his arrogance. He got like this when he was in a playful mood. She still wanted many more answers before they got there.
"Some of the spells either of you used…" she asked once more bringing the conversation back to the battle and Atticus obliged as she let go of his wrists though she kept herself perched onto his lap.
They talked about the spells that he and Grindelwald used for over an hour, theorising and recounting the similarities that they knew of other dark spells but wildly more brutal than the ones they had known about.
Atticus admitted to her that he had no idea what that siege-like bombardment spell was except for his suspicion that it may be Atlantean and if that was the case, they would have to make sure that they got to his cache of books and scrolls before anyone else did.
Her eyes had gleamed with hunger when he had said that and she asked if he knew where he might have kept it but Atticus only thought it might be in Nurmengard though it might be too obvious and it was likely they would have to search for it, lest it fall into hands other than their own, something she was more than willing to undertake.
She'd asked about the spells he'd used the one that seemed could have shattered Mount Olympus itself and he told her that he had created it, almost on a whim, using modern physics as a base for his spell. He created an artificial sun before he transfigured the core into mere grams of plutonium, the dense material then reaching critical mass under the gravitational pressure exuded by the artificial sun and as Atticus released the barrier that had surrounded the creation, it instantly created an explosion that far outreached what muggles could do.
Or so she thought when he dived in, much to her hidden horror at the reminder of what they had once discussed the muggles would be capable of, into the fact that muggles would very soon be able to do what he did with chemical reactions triggering the nuclear reaction that would happen once it reached critical mass.
She knew that he wanted magic and science to be intertwined to a degree that it may well seem to be one and the same but this was the first time she saw the…potential it had.
Perhaps it could even aid her in her unending quest of immortality…
She'd asked about the shield he created and he had told her that it was not of his making and was something she would need to see to understand, refusing to elaborate except to promise to take her in the next week or so.
She wasn't exactly pleased but was mollified by his assurances, especially once he told her it was in the same place where his mother and sister were. She didn't quite like the mischievous glint in his eye when he talked about this mysterious place.
They talked about Grindelwald's probable survival and what those creatures were and how it was likely those creatures were likely some kind of experiment by De Galle.
Emily was intensely curious by the experiments of De Galle, the way to use magic to change the human condition. It would be one of her objectives to secure his knowledge and even the man himself if she was able to.
She had a fascination with rituals tailored to changing the weaknesses of the human body to the point that she had begrudgingly began to be interested in the sciences of Biology, all to improve her own understanding of the weaknesses inherent in the human body. De Galle's…immoral experiments would only add to her growing knowledge and what avenues to perhaps focus on and what to avoid.
They talked about the immediate impact and the coming consequences of his defeat of Grindelwald. Emily had told him that his next steps were crucial and chastised him for not going to France to deal with the Vampires, knowing that it was a missed opportunity to cement his status as a legendary figure, and instead disappearing into the night, seeming like he was running away.
Atticus had grimaced at that, a boyish look of sourness came across his face, once more reminding her that despite everything he was still prone to make mistakes that could become bigger issues down the line.
He admitted that he had not thought of that, thinking more about his family – which he included her into from the look she had received, one that made her stomach flutter – than the coming problems that would soon be over the horizon. He told her that he had coordinated with his muggleborn friends – she was never sure if he genuinely saw them as worthy to have as friends or even allies or simply pawns that he liked using – to spread the news of his defeat of Grindelwald in a way that would never be forgotten.
It had been their plan to use the IMP in the wake of Grindelwald's defeat but not in the manner that he eventually told her he was doing.
She told him that they would have to hunt down Grindelwald in secret, to ensure that the final battle he had fought was the very last anyone ever saw of Grindelwald, to avoid stirring of the battle being faked by their enemies, even if would be impossible to prove. He acknowledged that and that he would be looking into finding out where he was and simply have their location destroyed from range.
Her eyes had narrowed at that phrasing and questioned him on it. He simply said it was related to the shield that she had asked about and that it would be explained soon.
She didn't question him any further on it, merely wondering what could be more sensitive than the explanation of his family trait, one that he further expanded upon after she asked a few questions on it.
They talked about the Vampires and she nearly quivered at the prospect of going into their dens and slaughtering them. Creatures such as Vampires added little benefit in the world she wanted to create and she was eager to test out her prowess against them.
Atticus had cautioned her, saying that Vampires could make great allies until she shut him down, asking him if he wanted to make it easy for their enemies to mark him a Dark Lord by allying with Dark Creatures. He remained silent on the topic of alliances with Vampires after that.
She saw the merit behind it but it was too risky a prospect, especially when they were not planning on creating an army to wage war in the Magical World which was what their best use was.
The idea didn't really leave her mind though as she imagined that, in another life, she likely would have had an army of Vampires at her beck and call and Werewolves acting as her guard dogs beneath her throne…
…Perhaps she was a little too hasty in dismissing them
…Maybe she could enact such a thing in Illos?
Worth thinking on, she mused.
On the topic of Dark Lords, he voiced out his concerns about the ICW, that he was unsure about how to address the fears they might have that he was another Grindelwald, especially with the way his men had kneeled in front of him.
She could see that it bothered him, the act of kneeling to him, their physical voicing of their allegiance to him.
She found it amusing, that he was willing to inspire and earn their loyalty and yet when they wanted to display their loyalty to him, he would become uncomfortable, unable to ever be at ease with it.
It was an interesting dynamic, in truth. Where she basked in the fear and loyalty she inspired in her followers, Atticus was a reluctant acceptor of it.
She dismissed his concerns, that the ICW would be dealt with in time and with the added spotlight on him now that her role in moving behind the scenes would become more important.
His face grew concerned "What do you mean? You're not suggesting…"
She raised her perfect eyebrow before she leaned back and brought her hands to her hair, brushing them back behind her ears.
"Surely you understand you will not be allowed any kind of privacy? You will have to take the reins of your new found fame for our plans and that means you will be at the forefront of a great many things which includes politics" she drawled out, her eyes sparkling in gleeful amusement.
His face nearly turned aghast but he got control over himself "No I don't" he denied "You're the political one in this relationship, I don't have to deal with them more than I have before, even if I have more responsibilities and duties now that I am Lord of my House. My plans do not include politicking beyond positioning myself into the forefront of the magical world as a proponent of advancing magical civilisation"
He looked at her with a serious expression "I have won the social influence I need to further the beliefs I want to take root in the magical world and to set the groundworks of our Kingdom but that does not mean I am now a celebrity for the masses to feast upon"
Emily looked down at him with disapproval shining through "Don't be an idiot" she said flatly "What did you think would happen after you defeated Grindelwald?" she shook her head "No, your plans included you having the social influence but you overlooked what you would need to do to maintain it in order to kick off the migration." She looked at him with a serious expression. "You can't just disappear for long periods of time, not for the foreseeable future."
His eyes grew stormy "Illos needs to be built. I have set up institutions and the foundations of a multitude of businesses that will carry out my plans that would have needed my attentions otherwise. They will create entire sectors in the magical and muggle world further increasing the influence of our family. That influence will allow us to pick those who will be pillars of the society we want to create in our Kingdom before we open its doors to more people. My way of influencing has never been one within the political platform, that is your stage Emily"
Emily's lips pursed. He was stubbornly trying to escape the duties that would come with the fruition of his success against Grindelwald. "Atticus…" she began carefully "You do realise that in order to build something everlasting, to move towards a destiny we create for the magical world, we have to be the ones that walk ahead on that road we built, shepherding the masses with example?"
She understood that from a very young age and she understood it even more when she took on the pureblood dogma of her classmates. She had planned to take their cause and shape it to her goals of ruling Magical Britain even if she disdained and held most of the purebloods in contempt and entertained herself with the thought of purebloods kissing the hem of her robes, someone they would have believed to be pureblood when she was a half blood born of a muggle.
She continued "Make no mistake Atticus, Illos is still the goal but the roads that lead to our Kingdom is long and will be walked towards by many people but none will walk it unless they know and trust the leader they see, someone who holds their loyalty even if they had never even met you" she knew her words were beginning to pierce the thick shield that Atticus placed around himself when it came to people.
For all of his talks about 'saving' the magical world, she knew it was almost done reluctantly. Oh he did care for the poor and the trodden, somehow having a much greater connection with them than he ever did with the nobility of the Magical World that he grew up with, but he hated the little steps that was needed to ensure his plans would come into existence…the politicking, the catering to the masses, the myriad little things that he would disdain doing but would need to.
He loved Magic enough to put himself in that role – the words of the Centaur had been enough to solidify him in that position, to shape the Magical World to a set of ideals that she agreed with as long as she…they were the rulers of that said world and to protect those who carried Magic in their blood from the predations from the muggles.
He would rather remain in the background, giving them the tools they need to elevate themselves than be at the forefront and obtain all of the benefits of his acts. And yet, it was this side of his personality that made many people seem to adore him.
She was envious at the way he was able to get through any group of people with his speeches and little acts of kindness she knew were genuine, speeches that were able to remain true to him whilst at the same time hitting the right way of saying things that made even the most prejudiced idiot acknowledge his points and the acts of kindness that made people think the world of him even if it took little effort from him.
And it was something she would make sure he would utilise to the fullest degree. After all, she had her own uses of that silver tongue of his, outside of the halls of their abodes.
"Your name, your actions and your abilities in magic might be seared into the minds of all the present and coming generations of magicals, but what about their hearts and souls, Atticus?" She was unapologetic in the way she pressed answers from him.
"You have the fame, the acclaim and power now but the reverence?" She shook her head before she tilted her head at him "You will need to work on that every day until Illos is complete and ready, not only for our plans but also to insulate ourselves against the threats that are arraying against us, even as we speak"
"Opposition will come for us from every corner of the world, from the nobility who will hate us for destroying their businesses with our own and making their so called blood purity irrelevant to power and success, Ministries who will see us as eroding their authority and power with our business empire and sheer presence and of course the ICW who will never leave you, us, too far from their minds, not after so many of them had seen the power you wield"
Her eyes bored into Atticus, her eyes held a piercing intent. "You once told me that people followed Napoleon, Alexander and the Founding Fathers of muggle America because they believed in the cause they took up, that they kept their power because their people believing in them, liked them."
"That history is littered with failed states and empires because the ruling powers were unable to win the public over. Our plan is decades long and if we are to ensure the stability and power of our Kingdom, we have to ensure that we are loved and the very idea of fighting against us, either within or outside of the Kingdom, is an anathema to their very being" Her eyes drooped slightly, her head shifting slightly to the side as her blood red lips drew closer together.
"With the death of Grindelwald, we do not have a definable enemy, not yet" she said with a grim countenance, her words carrying a hint of warning. Muggles were of course what they would use as the enemy to marshal the people to their Kingdom once it could handle the influx of people, even more so when the muggles would point their many Nuclear Weapons at each other.
"And so, your saviour status will need building to Merlin like proportions for us to reach the height of our plans" Her eyes darkened and mismatched with her soft tone that spoke words that carried an invisible weight.
She found a sense of irony at the similarities that the Nuns had drawn against her with what she doing now.
"That reverence is our shield and sword and unless you want me to cut down our enemies with extreme prejudice once they believe they can attack us without consequence, hiding behind the authority of the Ministries or the ICW" her eyes grew cold "You will have to rise to the occasion, play the role that destiny set before us" she said, dark blue eyes staring down at amethyst eyes.
"My own goals will only be aided by your role, Atticus, building alliances, shaping the people to be more tolerant of darker magicks – especially now that there are many clamouring to ban more magic and traditions unique to the magical world –, shattering the influence of the muggles from the magical world and building the notion of being ruled by myself" gave off a small smirk "and of course by you" she drawled a little "as something that is natural and normal."
She had plans of moving the entirety of Magical Britain to Illos before the muggles grew too powerful.
She would spend decades building up her influence to do this, creating a core of utterly loyal people before they opened their doors to the rest of the Magical world.
She may have giving up ruling Magical Britain for Illos but it did not mean she would give up ruling the people of her homeland, the first people of many.
"What we are doing is nothing short of a revolution and revolutions all have leaders, symbols…and all leaders have to be able to be accessible to the masses, even if you hate every second of it" she finished finally.
Silence reigned for a moment, two sets of eyes unblinkingly met one another until Atticus sighed and closed his eyes, marking her victory and his reluctant acceptance.
"You'd think it was you that defeated Grindelwald, with the way you're just handing out defeat after defeat" he said in a wry tone, one fraught with almost resignation at what he'd have to do.
Approval crept along the curve of Emily's smile, her eyes shining in prideful satisfaction. Her hand travelled to the base of his neck, the tip of her finger traipsing across the surface of the skin where his left carotid artery laid below "Isn't that why you made sure I wasn't there, to make sure I couldn't take the glory from you?" she purred a little and a rumbling chuckle, one that she felt under her finger escaped him.
He opened his eyes and stared at her, a rigid smile plastered across his face "Perhaps" he merely said before he looked to the side.
"You know… I initially wanted to fight Grindelwald under an alias when I was a child" Atticus chuckled a little bitterly.
She did not know that but she was aware that he had plans to defeat Grindelwald even before Hogwarts.
It actually made sense that he would think up a thing like that, all to avoid the attention he would bring to himself. He was a contradiction that at times she grew exasperated with it all. Kind yet ruthless, commanding yet submissive, cunning yet annoyingly honourable.
Wanting accolades yet not the attention that came with it. Good or bad.
"A childish flight of fancy" she merely said, her eyes boring into him and he turned to her.
"It was" he agreed "doesn't change the fact that it would have been nice" he sighed.
"I will be heading to France, then, after I go to see my mother and sister" he told her.
She nodded. "I will come join you in a few days. I have a few things to take care off before we go and end the war proper"
He looked at her curiously and she waved him off "Just to make sure my…allies know to keep to the rules" she shrugged and of course to remain in Hogwarts in time for when IMParrived.
She saw an…opportunity that she was loathed to let pass.
"Fair enough" he commented before he paused for a moment "Speaking of which, how has Dumbledore been since I've been away?"
A vicious smile appeared on her face "He's marginalised and as word of your victories spread, distrustful gazes have fallen upon him. Even his Gryffindors barely tolerate their Head of House. Even his little trip to the Ministry did little to quell the talk of his cowardice"
His eyes narrowed at that before he nodded. They both wanted him neutralised, her more than him though it was far more personal for her. "And he still seems healthy?" Atticus asked, his voice carrying surprise.
"Yes" she answered "It seems like the trap hasn't yet been sprung"
"Or it has and it failed" he murmured concerned, a disturbed look etched on his face.
"I doubt it" she denied and he looked at her with a questioning gaze "I'm certain he's cracked it but hasn't yet acted on it."
"Why?" he simply asked.
"Why am I certain and why hasn't he acted?" he hummed affirmatively.
"Because I had a chance to look at his office when he had been away" she smiled happily and his eyebrows raised.
"It hadn't been easy, the man is paranoid" she said in a displeased tone. Truly, the man had all kinds of wards in his office and room. If that was how he protected his things, she doubted they would have been able to sneak poison in his food or drink.
"But I managed to find his maps of where the Mausoleum could be, encircling locations that it was definitely in at some point" her lips curled in satisfaction.
"So he knows or at least will know where it will be next" Atticus said with a growing smile.
"Yes." Her smile broadened. And soon, all of their arc enemies will lie dead and they will usher in their age.
Atticus smile fell off "Are you certain you want to be around when he sees the news? He will think his lover dead and…" Atticus trailed off, concern marring his face as he made to sit up but she wasn't interested in having him off his back.
Plus…with what he said of his visions…of the battle having been a personal point that had cast a shadow over his ability to See the future beyond it…
It was not in her best interest that he was in control tonight...
She leaned forward, her hands travelling his wrists and held him down. "What did I say before…" a low dangerous purr escaped her blood red lips.
Atticus' teeth clenched, his eyes boring up at Emily. "Fine…" came out of his mouth, hints of parseltongue apparent in his speech.
She decided to take mercy on him given that she would reacted the same, likely much worse "Hogwarts' defences are immaculate. He won't be able to cast to kill in the Great Hall, not after the way the Founders enchanted it to ensure Lords would send their Heirs to Hogwarts. The repairs you did before, the ones that prevented rape that had been turned inactive, only strengthened those wards."
His angry look turned into curiosity "You mean you can feel the wards?"
She nodded "I could always feel the wards but ever since I took my Slytherin Heirship, I could feel a little more of the wards" a smirk grew on her face "After all, I am one part owner of the Castle"
"And so it would be natural for you have at least some influence and feel of the wards" he said after a moment and she hummed approvingly.
"Mind you, unless I take ownership wholly, I have little influence. Dippet has far more authority, even if it is solely because I permit him to have it" she further expounded.
It wasn't quite true. The notes that Salazar left behind had said that there was far more involved in the role of Headmaster, something that could not so easily be taken away, magically at least. The Headmaster was the keeper of the wards, the equal of a Lord in his family Manor. Even if half of Hogwarts was hers by right, it did not mean that would change and she wouldn't entirely sure how to go about it.
She continued "If Dumbledore attacks me, it won't end well for him and Dippet won't allow such an act to happen anyways." Dippet might be meek but he had his boundaries and Dumbledore would practically sail over it if he attacked. Dippet may not be an Arch Mage but the man was powerful even if he was feeble in body in his three hundred plus years age. His magic was largely sustaining his body, she could see this clearly in him.
"Just…" Atticus sighed as he glanced at her suspiciously "Don't antagonise him. He may not be Grindelwald but he is powerful and if he's desperate and angry enough…"
It was confirmation enough for her and only solidified her plans. She just had to make sure he wouldn't sleep until it was time for him to leave the Castle.
"I know, I know" she said accommodatingly and leaned forward and brushed her cheek against his before she kissed his earlobe. "I will let the plan take care of him" He didn't need to know that her plan was slightly different than his.
She might not overly care but she knew was being a hypocrite. She would make it up to him though, even if he didn't know it yet.
Her tongue touched his earlobe and it caused him to shiver underneath her from the sensation and Emily's lips curled at the act. He always was sensitive there.
"I missed this" he shivered underneath her as his hands travelled towards her rear and he gripped tightly onto it.
She narrowed her eyes. "Is that so…" she shifted in her seat in a lingering swivel of the hips, the motion on his lap caused his lips pried slightly open as the act drew a soft hitch of his breathing, stuck in his throat and his eyes widened at the sudden act. She removed her hands from his wrists and leaned back up, her hips moving in, lingering, sensual sways, not unlike the ebbs and flows of the tide though one that seemed to wash over ever hardening rock than soft sand.
A charming twist of the lips spelled further danger for Atticus "Perhaps I am overindulging you" she hummed thoughtfully, her eyes turning away from the maddening want that shone through his eyes whilst his hands gripped her tightly onto her hips. She looked into the distance as she stopped moving and made to leave his lap "It's probably best, then, for me to stop resting" drawing back to the earlier comment he had made.
She stopped, rather, she was stopped from moving away by firm hands and she turned to him with a raised eyebrow. His eyes were fixed on her, his eyes roving up and down her body before they met hers again. He sat up, a growl stuck in his throat.
"No…" he growled out and pulled her into him, his lips fell onto her long neck and her reddening lips sprawled open in a faltering way, her eyes turning half closed as she basked at the trailing kisses that had begun at the top of her neck and slowly but surely and inevitable like the march of time went down towards the base of her neck.
"Rest doesn't exist for those like us" he said in between the tender, lustful kisses. Her hands began to explore the inside of his robes, her hands webbing and crawling all over his back.
"Hmmmmmm" she groaned softly as Atticus kissed the crest of her chest whilst she began to take off his battle robes.
He unclicked her bra from underneath her shirt and she felt it disappear as flagrant smells entered her nose, that was intensely familiar, which made her open her eyes slightly but he drew her closer, her face disappearing in the crook of his neck "What was that?" she whispered in a moan filled tone.
"That…" he began and she gasped as he began to kiss closer and closer towards her left breast as he began to roll her shirt off from her shoulders. "was me transfiguring your bra into Blue Winter Roses" her eyes opened fully and turned towards the little space between them and she saw soft white blue flowers with the familiar four petals floating in between them.
They were the kinds of flowers that geometrically were beautiful, a single white line ran vertically down the middle of the petals which were an even 90 degrees apart towards the pistils which was white itself. The blue was the same colour of a clear blue sky that tapered into a darker hue until the tips were nearly black.
When she'd been a child, no more than five years of age, she had come across the flower during winter, growing between cobblestones and half hidden under an inch of snow, just two streets from the orphanage.
She had never seen such a flower before, she had never really seen any real flowers up close before, only in passing when she saw people carrying brightly coloured flowers in their arms in the streets or in the old near colourless dusty books that the orphanage had. She had plucked it, taking it with her.
It was the next day, having fallen asleep with the flower, that it was taken from her by the matron after she had come into her room once she had missed the roll call because she had stayed up all night simply studying every detail of the flower under a candle light, part of the night having spent questioning herself and the flower itself about why she liked it so much.
The matron in question had taken it from her and declared it was an unnatural plant, claiming that its strange appearance and in winter no less was against God and that she should be ashamed of herself.
She had pleaded and begged for it to be given back only for the matron to crush the rose in her hand, abruptly silencing Emily before sending a withering glare at her and harshly telling her it was time for lessons.
At that time, she had understood things were unfair but that had marked a significant change in her behaviour, knowing that things could be taken from you and there was little you could do about it unless you were strong enough, something that would reinforce over time and something she would reverse in the coming years.
It hadn't been until the last few days before the start of her second year that she found out that the plant was magical, having come across the description of the plant in one of the potions books she had rumbled through in a rundown back alley bookstore in Diagon, one that belonged to the more frigid plains of Highlands Scotland, that somehow had found root in the area of her little grey prison of a home.
They only bloomed, flowered a few days before it withered and died, the high winds of the Highlands carrying the fruit for the next generation of Blue Winter Roses.
They were rare ingredients in potions, having historically been used in potions that would be soaked into the wooden planks of Magical homes and would protect against the low temperatures during winter time. It had been popular during the time of the Founders but their use had long been disbanded for cheaper and more available plants if charms were not used and so there was little use of the plant except for its striking appearance.
She had told Atticus that story of hers, her little secret that marked the beginning of an end of innocence, one where a piece of magic had wormed into her life, unknowingly, and was ripped from her just as sudden as it appeared.
Every now and then, he presented her with them, conjured or real, always sudden and without reason.
She positioned her finger underneath his chin and brought him back to her face. Their eyes met as she wrapped her arms around his neck, never once losing eye contact.
It was little things like this that made her understand the power he held over her…the love she knew she felt when she looked into those rich amethyst eyes that had sparkling emerald flecks.
"I love you" she whispered, her magic fluttered at her proclamation, a lust and warmth that had been flickering grew into a fire, a flame that was stroked into wildfire by his presence and his…acts.
He closed the gap between them, their gaze never breaking as his reached out with his hand and stroked free locks of her hair with his thumbs, the hair that sheltered her face, away.
"And I love you" his voice was gruffer, huskier but carried a depth of vulnerability that only she would see or hear from him.
She leaned forward and kissed him, her soft lips pressing into him just as her body was pressing to him.
The rest of the night fell away, their minds and bodies occupied only with each other, their worries and plans were non-existent as they sought solace in the arms of the other, two beings that found perfection within the other despite never having sought it, nor even expected it.
Truly…
Magic could do wondrous things.
-Break-
Lyra Silamontaine POV
She blew wind from her gap between her lips, blowing away the errant lock of hair that had fallen in her face as she sat perched onto the main street of Magical District where the French Ministry building was.
Her eyes surveyed the results of the slaughter that had taken place, people had been ripped apart by vicious Vampires that fell upon the makeshift defence force that had made up the French Aurors.
They had come too late, the battle had already been underway by the time they had arrived and even then, it turned to be unlike any fight she had been part off.
Vampires were truly frightening creatures, for they had seemed more like mirages, blurs as they jumped from one person to another, leaving in their wake a torn arm or a ripped out throat gushing out like a broken faucet with bits of flesh stuck in their teeth.
She shuddered in the memory when she had frozen under the gaze of one of said vampires.
Likely for her, she had Hirahito as her partner and he had decapitated the creature when it had sped towards her with his sword.
It had jolted her aware and they had battled towards the atrium of the Ministry, losing more men than she remembered ever losing.
A look of grief passed across her face as she remembered seeing the dead eyes of Clarke as he had laid on the cold floor, half of his jaw ripped off.
She closed her eyes, refusing tears from leaking from her eyes. He had grown to become a close friend of hers, someone who she eventually confided with. She had initially feared to do so but he had only laughed and asked how he could not come to accept her as she was, after fighting in a war together?
Tears fell despite her wishes as she smiled watery at the memories.
She heard someone approach and she hastily dragged the sleeve of her robes across her face.
"Here you go lass" she heard the familiar booming sound and she turned towards him.
Not even the seemingly untouchable form of Harfang Longbottom had survived contact with the Vampires as two long diagonal red scars ran across his face, from the top side of his left eye to the left side of his cheek and jaw. The worse, though, was the injury to his eye as it had not survived the claws of the vampire. It was a gnarly injury, one that seemingly would remain with him for the rest of his life.
Though it seemed that it did not faze Longbottom as he had taken the fangs of the Vampire and created a necklace that he proudly wore around his neck, a morbid expression of victory if she ever saw one.
He held two huge glasses of beer in his hands and she wondered if the burly man simply played up to his Viking roots on purpose. She spied at him with a look and saw the grin plastered on his face.
Yes, he most certainly knew.
She held out her hand and took the beer before Longbottom practically crashed next to her, sitting next to her.
"Drink up lass, you definitely look like you need it" he said to her with a chuckle in his voice before he began to gulp down his beer. She stared at him as half of the five pint sized glass of beer disappeared down his gullet.
"aaahhh" he exclaimed with immense satisfaction, a foam of bear coating his moustache before he turned to her with a grin and an expectant look.
Her eye twitched in annoyance at the expectant look before she sighed. She knew better than to protest. Longbottom was not unlike a dog with a bone…he would persist and persist until you just gave in.
Merlin knew many had tried to no success and to be honest, she found that she had little energy to do that anyway.
She took a sip of the beer and before she knew it, she was gulping down quite a bit of it. Harfang's thunderous laughter rang around "Told ya you needed it!" he said in a self satisfied tone.
She wiped the foam off of the top her lip and smiled at him "It seems like I did"
He gave her a curious look but seemed to say nothing further on it. A group of men walked past them that took both of their attentions.
It was a mix of men; those who had fought the Vampires, the French Aurors that had they had come to help and of course the men who came from Belgium at the tail end of the battle, helping them overwhelm the Vampires and significantly ended the brutal losses they were suffering whilst fighting the Vampires.
They'd overheard one of them a little and it was obvious what they were talking about.
She had no real energy to think about that though…
Both she and Harfang sat in comfortable silence as they watched the men begin to work.
They were cleaning up the street of the body parts that sprinkled the cobbled streets of Magical Paris, vanishing away limbs that clearly belonged to vampires whilst carefully piling up body parts that had once belonged to their comrades.
"Are you alright" Harfang finally said after they watched the men move away into the distance, to another area of the district that would need their attention. House Elves had been eradicated during the war, the entire population of Elves had been eviscerated, a condition the noble families that had remained in France had to adhere to.
There had been rumours of the reasons why, some had claimed that Grindelwald was going to replace them with muggles and squibs whilst others claimed that he simply hated magical creatures different from witches and wizards.
She never cared for the reasons why he did the things he had done, merely that it was evil and inhuman.
She glanced at him "I am alive" she stated quietly, turning towards the spot where body parts had previously been "More than others can really say" she said in a dry, wry tone.
He hummed in a way she wasn't sure what he meant but he soon clarified anyway "Aye, I suppose so" he gulped from his beer "I suppose that is one way of looking at things"
"How else would you look at this?" she asked, unsure why she even asked.
He chuckled "I'd look at things with a smile on my face" he said and she turned to him with a frown on her face.
He had a broad smile on his face as he looked into the distance, the large glass of beer near empty and looked small in his hands.
"We've been at war for some time now, we have lost many people, friends and comrades, aye that is true." He acknowledged "It is a loss that does hurt us but I find solace in the fact that they died fighting for a good cause, a cause that we all believed in." he turned to her his broad smile softening "I am sure that many of them would have accepted death in return for victory and their friends alive, just as you would have"
She turned away from him, unwilling to voice out her agreement. Clarke deserved better than to die at the hands of a Vampire but she knew the idiot would have agreed with Harfang's sentiment…just as she did.
"I would have still preferred my friends alive" she murmured though her tone carried a hint of sadness, there was some kind of ease that had escaped her.
"So would I. Ultimately, lamenting such things does nothing but risk putting yourself into a spiral that can be difficult to escape" A small hint of regret marred his voice.
She turned to him, a surprised look on her face "You seem like you're talking with experience."
Harfang chuckled "It's because I do. This may be my first war and hopefully only war but it does not mean I have not experienced great loss" he looked at her with smiling eyes "When we're back in England, I might just tell you over a couple of pints" He said before bumping his shoulder against her and she nearly fell over which caused him to laugh.
She sent a glowering look at him that only made him chuckle a little more before he grew a little sombre "You can even tell me about Clarke if you like, when it isn't so fresh"
Despite herself, she found herself smiling a tremulous smile once more and gave a little nod "That…That sounds nice"
They remained quiet for a time, as people to and fro'd as work continued throughout the night.
It had been nice, to simply spend the time in silence with a man like Harfang, someone who could even set a Nundu at ease.
Hirahito's refined gait could be spotted anywhere, she thought amusedly. The man walked as if he was simply being carried away by clouds, his steps and movement so graceful and effortless that it made her think was unfair.
That sword…katana she corrected herself, hung beautifully from his waist, one that was as distinct as the man's gait.
"That bastard" Harfang growled as he got up to his feet and stormed towards Hirahito, perplexing her at the sudden outburst and the look that he wore.
Why was he pissed at Hirahito?
The man barely said anything to anyone…?
Her curiosity won over and she hoddled up to her feet and followed Harfang to Hirahito.
"I cannot tell you, Lord Longbottom, as I said several times" she could almost hear the frustration in the man's calm accented words "who the craftsman of my weapon is"
She walked around and saw their expressions. Hirahito stood straight as a pole whilst Harfang almost seemed to stand an angry bear that was on its hind legs.
"Bull hark!" Harfang bellowed as he reduced the gap between him and Hirahito "What kind of craftsman does not want more work commissioned!"
"What are you yelling about Harfang?" she intervened, wishing to stop it from spiralling into an actual fight.
He turned to her with a look she had seen on children mostly, one that looked out place of the grown man that was Harfang. "He won't tell me where he got the sword from, it's so much better than the one he had in Slovenia!" everything about this was petulant and she began to giggle.
"Katana" Hirahito corrected, annoyance creeping into his voice.
"I don't care what you've named the sword, only who made it!" Harfang swivelled around to face Hirahito again and she saw Hirahito's eye twitch and it sent her into a fit of laughter.
"It's not funny, Lyra!" she turned to Harfang and smiled at him fondly before she shook her head.
"Idiot" she mumbled in a fond tone.
"What?" Harfang asked as he looked at her with a confused look.
"Nothing." She looked at the scarab of the Katana. She had seen the weapon in motion, it having combusted in a silvery white flame that seemed almost alive with the way it flowed with Hirahito.
When it had been normal, or as normal as a glowing weapon could be, she had recognised similarities of the sheen of the metal and the spear she had witnessed come into existence at Genelum.
She could never forget that day.
She looked at Hirahito "Did he ask you not to tell anyone?" a look of suspicion was sent her way.
"No. But it is the understanding I have of him" Hirahito said after a moment.
She nodded. She wasn't surprised. Lord Sayre tended to be quite secretive. She had been sworn to secrecy that day by Dayton after Lord Sayre had collapsed.
She wasn't sure if she could say anything, even now when they had heard from the others that Grindelwald was defeated with a trident spear but she'd give it a try.
She turned to Harfang "You already know him anyway, especially since there is only one other person who wields a weapon like Hirahito"
Harfang's eyes widened before he turned to Hirahito "He made that?"
Hirahito looked at her curiously before he turned to Harfang, no doubt debating whether or not just to admit it. He had decided and nodded.
"Of course he did!" Harfang laughed, his head shaking "That sounds right up his alley, to slay a Dark Lord with a big old spear he made himself"
Lyra thought on that for a moment. Did it really make sense or was Harfang just talking a lot of bull?
Harfang looked at the sky, a broad smile on his face "He will definitely make me one too, maybe even for free!" Harfang laughed "He still hasn't paid me after that loss in the lovely game he introduced to us!"
Lord Sayre had introduced them to a game called poker and ever since then, scores of groups of men and women would play against each other, many times the game was changed to be more 'magical'. Some of the variations she'd seen were truly creative…and some quite disturbing.
Harfang grinned savagely as he rolled his right shoulder "Stormbreaker?" he said suddenly as a look of pondering plastered his face.
"No, too obvious." He dismissed and she shared a look with Hirahito and she began to giggle at his long suffering look.
"Longclaw? No, too…boring" Harfang hummed unhappily before a frown grew on his face, tapping his finger against his chin.
"What are you doing?" Lyra asked in genuine bafflement.
He turned to her with a glint in his eye "Just coming up with names for my new baby"
Lyra didn't say anything further, her look of disbelief only voiced out all there was to show or say.
Harfang's eyes sparkled as a broad grin bloomed on his face. "Long Desolation" he said finally, his teeth baring.
"Yes, that is the name of my new baby"
Harfang's booming laughter filled the air and all thoughts of loss and death had been lost, sent away from her mind as thoughts of what she did to deserve to suffer such an idiot replaced the bleakness.
-Break-
Scrimgeour POV
The door slammed harshly, causing all of those attending to wince at the harsh sound including Scrimgeour himself. He sat back in his chair, his eyes roving around the meeting table before they turned towards the source.
"Good, you're all here" Bernard Cuffe said in an unkind voice as he stormed across the room towards his seat at the head of the table. Cuffe was an overweight man, something that was on purpose considering how easy it was to…correct ones deficiency with the right potions but it was one that suited his frame. He was of a stocky enough build with short dirty blonde hair and could intimidate a statue with his glare.
A paper slapped onto the table and Scrimgeour saw more than one shift uneasily around the table.
It wasn't' surprising. Despite the fact that IMP was their competitors, all of them read the paper. None would dare to bring it into the office, of course, but privately?
They all did.
How could they not? The paper was truly ahead of its time, Scrimgeour thought, with the way that it grabbed attention of the common people and noble alike with even the most obscure news from the most distant of places.
Art, ways of magic, way of living of people thousands of miles across the oceans was talked about in even the most English of pubs. He would have laughed years ago if anyone told me old men would argue about the merits of living in tree top houses in the Amazon against the merits of living on River Homes in the many islands of Asia.
Obscure knowledge of other societies was becoming trivial, interest had skyrocketed in adventuring across the world.
The IMP was a phenomenon that the Daily Prophet could not keep up with, the bread and butter way of reporting the news was no longer something that kept the attention of the readers…especially when that news was…tainted with blatant opining that was becoming apparent to the more average individual.
That is not to say the IMP is not the same, no, that was clear from the way they shifted public attention here or there.
Especially their reporting of the war that the Daily Prophet had struggled to cover as adequately.
They always seemed to get the news first, to report on it, to comment on it and without fail they praised the Knights of Mimpost, calling them heroes of Britain.
Scrimgeour may agree with that opinion, somewhat, but they did lay it on thickly.
He would know, after all, he wrote a great many articles that did the same thing even if they were different topics.
His eyes travelled to the paper that laid on the table, the paper that added a heavy silence to the room, one that seemed to increase with tension as Cuffe made it to his seat.
This morning's edition…
It was the kind of story that he thought was a masterpiece, a story that captivated the utter enormity of the battle whilst at the same quelling the fears, successfully from what he been able to determine, of what could have been.
Grindelwald's plans were monstrous, one that suited his monstrous capabilities in magic and his evilness and yet instead of fear, the reader was left in awe of Atticus Sayre and a gratitude that would likely transcend generations if things worked out well for him.
It was frightening, truly, the kind of magic either of them possessed and it set a deep pit in his stomach with what he had discovered about Dumbledore, the man who was supposed to have stood for the Light when reality he was as Dark as Grindelwald, merely coated in a thin veneer of Good.
His story had an added side to it now, one that would truly frighten the population just as they had breathed a sigh of relief.
And it was also a way to forever etch his own name into the halls of great journalists and writers, perhaps even earn him a Order of Merlin, just as it has been suggested about Higgins.
And with the way the IMP broke the story first, he was in danger of forever losing the story.
With the defeat of Grindelwald and the fact that the upstart paper is rumoured to have links with Lady Slytherin, another sign of the collusion that he thought was happening with Sayre and the IMP, he was running the risk of losing a story that would be almost as defining as that battle.
Dumbledore was an Archmage, one rumoured to have been on par with Grindelwald and if that battle indicated anything, was that it would be catastrophic once it was made public and Dumbledore was forced to move into the open.
And yet what choice did he have but to release it?
The IMP was slowly choking the Daily Prophet and there was not much that could be done, not with the links the paper had with the nobility. Similar links to the ones who owned the Daily Prophet, one of them being a major shareholder of the business itself.
It was a mess.
Cuffe, after taking his seat, laid his palms on the desk, his eyes boring down everyone around the table and more than a few averted their eyes from his furious eyes.
"The greatest duel in centuries, nay, in over a millennium, since Merlin and Morgana themselves, and we don't even have a clue it was happening or even happening until this damnable paper was released?!" Cuffe snarled angrily as he smacked his palms on the table, causing the paper and most of the attendees to jump up.
"Tell me, what do I pay you for" Cuffe's voice was harsh and demanding before he swept his arm, pointing at the paper "When upstart papers like this can break world defining news that will forever be remembered?!"
Tremelby spoke up "Sir, the battle only happened last night in Belgium." He faltered under Cuffe's intense gaze but he continued despite his voice growing weaker "How are we meant to write about that so soon?"
"…"
The silence was deafening and only the creaking of Cuffe's chair permeated in the room.
"I see" Cuffe said calmly and Scrimgeour knew, then, how furious he was.
"How many of you feel this way?" Cuffe said calmly as he looked around.
Scrimgeour looked around and saw no one else make a peep whilst Tremelby looked around in surprise.
Fool Scrimgeour thought. He wasn't too surprised of course. Tremelby had always been a fool at anything other than Quidditch and even that he was little better than the average reader, owing his position thanks to a favour to his family.
"It seems you're quite alone, Tremelby." Cuffe turned his gaze to Tremelby and leaned forward, his eyes boring into Tremelby "You ask how we are meant to know and write so soon after the event?"
"IT IS OUR JOB TO KNOW, TREMBELBY!" Cuffe roared, spittle rupturing from his blubberous face as it grew red, shaking the very room with his voice alone.
Cuffe breathed heavily before his hand went to his pocket and conjured a napkin and he wiped his mouth before he vanished it away. He pocketed his wand once more and gazed down at Tremelby who was shaken and shocked "Let me explain it to you in a way that your dull, slow mind can understand" Cuffe's voice was once more calm, a distinct difference from the thunderous form that it had taken not a few moments ago.
"People like to think Quidditch is a complicated game" Cuffe began as he adjusted his robes before he leaned back in his chair, his eyes remaining fixed on Tremelby "It is not. Ultimately, the game is skewed by the presence of the Snitch itself, where the successful capture of the Snitch can end a game before it can even begin" Cuffe paused for a moment as his words settled into the room, the dawn of understanding showing on many faces of the more astute employees.
"A most gifted Seeker is invaluable to the team and is truly what can make an average team, great whereas a gifted Quidditch team but with an average Seeker will be hard pressed to be successful" Cuffe smiled grimly.
"Do you understand where I am going with this, Tremelby?" Cuffe said condescendingly and Scrimgeour felt pity for the man when it was so clear that he didn't, not truly.
"Y-yes sir" Tremelby said nervously and Cuffe scoffed as he pinned a glare at the man.
"You're fired." Cuffe said after a moment, shocking the room.
"W-what?" Tremelby said in a shock.
Cuffe looked at Tremelby in an exasperated manner "Do you understand anything?"
Tremelby flushed with shame and Cuffe continued "You're FIRED" he said the last word in an loud voice "LEAVE THIS OFFICE AND NEVER RETURN!" he shouted at Tremelby who looked distraught and didn't know what to do until he rose, slowly.
"NOW!" Cuffe roared and Tremelby practically ran out of the meeting room but left the door open.
Silence reigned as everyone seemed to take stock of what just happened.
"Can someone close the damn door?" Cuffe said in an impatient tone, breaking the room out of its stupefaction.
Scrimgeour took out his wand and with a flick closed the door.
"Now" Cuffe began again "There's going to be some changes here" Cuffe's eyes shone in a dangerous light and for the next few hours, Cuffe outlined the need of sending several of them to Mainland Europe to obtain anything they could now that Grindelwald was supposedly defeated.
Scrimgeour stayed behind when the meeting ended at Cuffe's request and sat across from him in the meeting room with the just pair of them there.
"What do you make of the paper?" Cuffe asked of Scrimgeour.
"I think it's a masterpiece" Scrimgeour admitted. "I also don't think Higgins wrote it himself, not completely" He was familiar with Higgins' work. It was too…perfect.
Cuffe grunted "I agree. Unless Higgins has been writing black out drunk for the past year or so and hid his talent for that long, I'm quite sure that much of it wasn't his own work"
Scrimgeour couldn't disagree with that.
"The breaking of the news makes it clear that they had foreknowledge of the battle happening" Cuffe pursed his lips before he shook his head "The quality of the writing, the live images, all of it makes it impossible for it to be anything close to a coincidence."
"I agree" Scrimgeour said after a moment "I always thought there was more with the paper" he shrugged "They fashion themselves as a neutral paper but really they are just cleverer and underhanded about it"
Cuffe smiled grimly "Just so." He sighed as he grabbed the bridge of his nose before he glanced at Scrimgeour "We need to change a lot if we want to survive or worse, if we want to remain as independent as we can be"
Scrimgeour laughed a little "We were never independent" he said after sitting back in his chair "We are owned by nobility, we write what they want us to write about, just as the Ministry make sure we don't report anything that could embarrass them." Scrimgeour twisted his lips into a grimace "It wouldn't surprise me if the Ministry increased their percentage of ownership over the paper as a way to combat the IMP and Sayre."
"The Sayre family have a third ownership of the paper" Cuffe laughed a little "There's no chance that we can be used as a weapon against them"
"It's almost as if they knew IMP was coming and they covered their bases to ensure that neither paper could be used against them" Scrimgeour said after a moment.
"Wouldn't surprise me" Cuffe said as he stared at the paper "With a Lord like that…" Cuffe shook his head.
"What do you think of him?" Scrimgeour asked Cuffe.
Cuffe stilled for a moment as he thought on it. "I think he's something we have not yet seen before." He said finally. "I can't quite put my finger on it but he's…different from all those scheming nobles." He looked at Scrimgeour "It may not be necessarily a good thing either. Unknowns rarely are"
"I can look into him?" Scrimgeour posed to Cuffe who shook his head.
"Not yet. At the moment, he is the hero of the story" Cuffe said with a wry smile "We would be crucified if it ever got public we were looking into him let alone what he or Lady Slytherin would do to our careers…or us" Cuffe said with a blatant look as he stressed out Slytherin and Scrimgeour blanched.
"Of course" Scrimgeour nodded. He would not look into Sayre but eventually, he would.
Especially if he ends up dominating the politics of Magical Britain as he thought he might. It was likely a terrible decision, not least for the simple fact that one did not cross the high born nobility but he had time to make sure he could protect himself and his family. He might not even publish whatever he found but nonetheless he would look into it.
Scrimgeour straightened up "I do have good news though" Well…good for the paper but potentially disastrous for the country.
"Oh?" Cuffe looked at him with thinly veiled interest.
"Remember that story I was following?" Cuffe nodded and waved him along.
Scrimgeour took a deep breath "Well, it is concluded" his hand travelled to his inside pocket and took out a waft of documents and laid it on the table before sliding it across to Cuffe.
Cuffe stared him curiously before he went into his breast pocket and took his reading glasses, something that he began to use after witnessing muggle journalists do the same.
He didn't even need them!
Cuffe frowned as he read the first page, the frown shifting into an expression of focus before his eyebrows raised and his eyes widened.
By the time Cuffe finished reading, he was pale and his hands were trembling a little.
"This…" he struggled to continue as he slunk into his seat "This is real?"
Scrimgeour grimly nodded "Every word of it." He said in a tired tone, a strained smile etched across his face.
"Merlin" Cuffe whispered as he dropped his glass on the table.
They remained in silence for some time.
"This will shatter a lot of things" Cuffe finally said.
"Yes" Scrimgeour agreed.
"Dumbledore likely would have been an important figure, a counterweight against Sayre and Slytherin by those who don't like either of their politics or simply their families" Cuffe shook his head before he gazed at Scrimgeour. "You're certain that this is true?" he asked once more.
Scrimgeour fixed Cuffe with a look "I am. I have been looking into this for nearly an entire year"
Cuffe sighed before a wry smile plastered on his face, the look of greed and determination clear to see in his expression "Well this will certainly put us back on the map and from here we can finally put back the IMP where it belongs"
Scrimgeour smiled as he nodded even if he felt uncertain. "Yes, it will give us the opportunity to build back the readership and do what we have to"
"Yes" Cuffe nodded as a gleam entered his eyes "You have two days to complete the story. I want a four days worth of content with a final day exclusive" Cuffe paused for a moment as he began to rise and he pinned a glare at Scrimgeour "Make it happen." Cuffe without saying anything further.
Scrimgeour sighed as he gathered back the documents.
He paused for a moment before he grimaced.
Great.
He'll have to tell his wife that he will late for the next few days.
-Break-
Cihan Aslan POV
The large wooden doors clanked open, a swift hush fell on the rambunctious Mugwumps who had been avidly talking
Every seat was filled tonight, representatives of ICW member states had all answered the summoning to discuss the extraordinary and sudden end of Grindelwald and what it entailed for the war, a war that might well be at an end.
The ICW member states all had a say in the policy of the body that was the ICW though when it came to execution of policy, that was reserved mostly to the separate bodies within the ICW itself.
This was done to ensure that there was no foul play from any member state in the way things worked and to ensure that the main purpose of the organisation remained intact and without corruption.
Supposedly.
These chambers discussed and deliberated policy and any issues that might occur in other nations and the representatives could vote on what path to take.
It was a poorly hidden secret that the ICW nations that were 'ICW protectorates' acted according to the will of the larger ICW organisation, bolstering their power and influence in the Magical world by having a greater voting power on the matter of things.
To become an ICW protectorate nation was a slippery slope, one that could happen to any nation that did not have the population, the structure of government or the magical strength to resist falling under the banner of the ICW.
To compound it even more, to no longer be an ICW protectorate was a path that many nations could not afford or sustain, the economic benefits of being part of the ICW was often much greater than independence was as treaties signed by the ICW and member states allowed the ICW lower tariffs and other import/export duties causing many business owners to prefer the status quo than take the hit to their wallets as part of a sovereign nation would cause, at least in the short term.
It did not mean however the path to independence was closed, merely that it was more difficult to achieve once the country was stabilised after whatever issues it suffered through.
Breaches of the Statute of Secrecy were often the main pathway that led nations becoming ICW protectorate countries but it also happened to countries that had fallen to Dark Lords that were 'defeatable', Dark Lords that the special branches of the ICW could take out once said Dark Lords had achieved victory against the Ministry of the country they inhabited.
In some instances, it was rumoured that the ICW even encouraged this to happen, all so that they could gobble up more power within the Magical world. He didn't believe such rumours, at least not outright, but he could see the reasoning behind it.
Many of the ICW employees and forces came from those countries as those countries rarely needed more than a number of employees and Aurors to handle the population as the ICW itself would come down on any wrongdoings.
The interesting thing however was that ICW protectorates had better standard of equality and opportunity than most sovereign nations did, a part consequence of having protectorates in several continents. It meant that Muggleborns in those nations were treated close to equals to purebloods whilst Dark Creatures like Werewolves and other Magical Beings were protected under the law.
It was not because of morality of course, it was simply because of the nature of the organisation, the large structure of the organisation needed efficiency and to have the best of the best join up with the ICW to help maintain its strength and reach over the Magical World that it pretended it didn't have, even if it was shaken in the midst of Grindelwald's war.
It was something that many feared would happen to many nations in Europe but Cihan did not think so, not after the losses the ICW had lost. They would not have the strength to do as they would normally do, especially as it would give many people who were current enemies a reason to band together to fight off a greater foe.
If there was one thing magicals hated almost as much as slights and rivals, it was outsiders dictating their lives and everyone remotely important grew up on hearing the dangers of becoming an ICW protectorate.
The ICW wasn't a terrible organisation, far from it as he knew it was necessary but Cihan knew that they could be overbearing with their strength.
The Supreme Mugwump walked up through the centre of the room towards the silvery oval seat and once he had been perched onto it, it rose into the air, the front of the seat shifting and changing until a desk appeared with him with a gavel and block.
Once the seat reached its designated location, the Supreme Mugwump picked up his gavel.
A loud thump of the hammer signalled the beginning of the proceedings and the magic that the room had been enchanted with, enacted as a golden wave rippled through the room, magically sealing the room and enshrouded it with secrecy charms and anti espionage magic.
It had been enchanted by one of the most celebrated mages in history, Abramelin the Egyptian mage, who, in one of his final works in his life, enchanted the ICW gathering chamber, at the time known as the Communion Hall of Wizardkind, a works that even to this day lasted and none had been able to break.
Aslan looked at the venerated Supreme Mugwump whose seat was the very top of the circular hall which had seats all around the circumference of the room in rows angled towards to seat of the Supreme Mugwump.
The hall was glorious, in truth, with crystalline stone walls that shimmered in the sunlight that shined through the roof through an enchantment that allowed the sun through despite dozens of metres of thick stone ceiling.
The seats of the Mugwumps that were along the circumference of the hall could move to the desires of the individual and the Supreme Mugwump and could float towards the centre of the hall when given leave to speak, another creation of the great Abramelin.
Aslan sat back in his chair, his mind wondering as he thought on Abramelin. He was a Jewish mage, one that was closer to the Ancient Jews that once wandered the sands of Egypt than he was to the modern incarnation despite being thousands of years separated from them.
He had been a recluse of a man, someone who had lived atop a small hill surrounded by lush trees, trees that had been said did not belong to the harsh weather of Egypt and yet they flourished, his skill in magic clear to see.
No one knew when he had been born only that by the time of his death in the early 1700s, he had been known about for at least four centuries, truly an Ancient mage.
He had been a devout Jew, one that managed to obtain an uneasy peace with the Umma that Egypt belonged to, an uneasy peace that it seemed he had won with prowess and strength.
It had been the same with the mages of Egypt and then later on the mages that would found the ICW. Abramelin had once been rumoured to have been taught the ancient lost magical branch of Kabbalah, a kind of understanding of magic and the universe that allowed true wonders to come into existence.
It was said that when his son, Lamech, had died, he had wept and caused the greatest flood in the recorded history of Egypt – which is chronicled for nearly four thousand years – that drenched the land with life giving water and flushed away countless homes though miraculously none had lost their lives.
The tale went that even during his most grief stricken period, Abramelin could not help but serve and nurture the lands of his God.
As he watched a hush fall into the room, he looked at his fellow Mugwumps with a critical eye. Wizards and Witches had a curious relationship with powerful magicals, one that was terse, tense, envious, antagonistic and at the same time submissive, reverential and glorified.
It was a relationship that was…difficult to say the least.
It was in times like this that Cihan envied muggles, where the most powerful of muggles, may it be royalty or a politician, were nothing but men, men who were no different than the common man, a peasant or a criminal.
They held no power, they held no magic.
They could die as easily as any man.
This…
This was not the case for the powerful of his kind. No…the most powerful of his brethren could wipe out an entire mountain with but a few flicks of his wand.
The weakest of his people could never contest with the most powerful, to the point that they may as well be different species. It was this dichotomy that resulted in the swatches of Dark Lords rising with an army at their back and just as easily fell to another, equally as powerful with his or her own followers.
Muggles waged war in the millions, able to drown their enemies with numbers and equipment but that was not possible for his people. No, it was with magical power that determined the fate of the Magical World, those opposed Dark Lords and who could match the strength of Dark Lords ended their threat than any army or group of fighters ever did and it was something that Cihan doubted would ever change.
And so, the best of those who would answer the call came forth, to defeat Grindelwald and yet time and again, Grindelwald remained victorious, his capture in MACUSA seeming more than a fluke or a deliberate act than anything else.
Scores of powerful mages fell to his hand, again and again to no avail and Grindelwald had marched on, continuing to plunge Europe into an abyss of Darkness where his poisonous words choked the life of their world.
Charleston had answered the call, one of the most powerful mages in the world and yet he proved to insufficient and even with the aid of the defector, could not overcome Grindelwald.
It was at this stage that the call for Dumbledore to join the war grew louder and louder, great offers having been placed at his feet if only he would move. Words of wind escaped that man's mouth, promising the world but meaning nothing at the same time, his condescending smile and twinkling eyes poorly hiding the depth of his ambitions as the offers grew larger and larger.
And yet, Cihan thought with great amusement, victory did not come at that man's hands no…it came at the hand of a child, barely old enough to be of age.
And in what a way had he done it…
Cihan had not yet seen the memories of the ICW men who had been present at the battle, though it would be a matter of time, but from the images he had seen…
It was hard to reconcile the boy he remembered talking with at the steps of the building here in Alexandria where the boy had been awarded his Runes Mastery with the all-conquering Arch Mage that killed the greatest Dark Lord for over a millennium.
The emergency session started and once the traditional proceedings was finished, the core reason of this meeting begun being discussed.
"Entire regions have descended into civil war! This can no longer stand! We must provide support to these countries" the Mugwump for Denmark cried out, no doubt in Cihan's mind that he was feeling the heat of his actions and corruption.
Denmark was one of the first to have fallen under Grindelwald's banner, any opposition ruthlessly culled or blackmailed. Revenge was being taken on the nobilities that had taken…liberties, taking daughters and sisters whilst at the same time beggaring entire families with the dowry demands under the threats of family line extermination or worse.
It was an ugly affair, one that Cihan had taken a rather…schadenfreude perspective on.
With the way the ICW worked, membership of the organisation did not end if there was a…change in government. It had served as a check of power of the organisation whilst at the same time enforcing the Statute of Secrecy, that it was in the best interest of any government to adhere to the Statute, forcing any incumbent groups to keep their conflict within the confines of the magical world.
That meant, of course, the nations that fell under the banner of Grindelwald, more or less willingly, no matter how suspect, were allowed a seat within these chambers even if they were greatly mistrusted.
The term war had been used to describe the conflict that Grindelwald wrought but technically, the ICW had no authority to declare war, its role was peacekeepers at most, an organisation that was not a nation, 'simply' a body that enforced the rules that bound the magical world together.
Despite the severe breaches in the Statute of Secrecy by the nations under the control of Grindelwald, their representatives were safe from persecution by the complex array of laws and statutes that made up the ICW.
This meant that there could be representatives from Grindelwald held countries and even if he may be a criminal and their leader even if it was not completely official, it meant that these official representatives of their nations could not be held to account in their roles…not until they were relieved from their position.
At which point the ICW could begin to charge them for crimes committed. It was a mess in truth and the ICW was a hive of contradictions and complication that need not have been.
He tuned back to the conversation at hand.
"And we must support them against those who supported Grindelwald!" another cried much to the revelry of the majority of the Mugwumps.
Cihan spied across the room and saw the nervous looks that several Mugwumps interchanged. Many of them had been…quietly feeling out the ones who had ardently opposed Grindelwald, ever since the news of the successes in the Baltics and the East had been filtering out.
Only Grindelwald's existence had stopped them from making the first footsteps of coming back into the fold and now they were suddenly thrust into the firing line.
He allowed a small grim smile to creep onto his face. Good.
It was high time that his…fellow Mugwumps felt the same kind of heat that countless others in Europe were feeling.
Especially given what Grindelwald's plans were.
"You seem awfully distressed there, Mr Ragnielsson" The new, cultured voice of Algernon Maurinouix sounded out. "Are you not the representative of the Danish Ministry after Grindelwald took your country under his banner?" Maurinouix replaced Jaquilin not too long ago, Jaquilin having been recalled to serve within the French Ministry.
"I don't know what you're trying to imply" Ragnielsson dismissed before he sent an angry glare at Maurinouix "I am merely suggesting now that the war is over, we need to bring back order and peace!"
This caused many to derisively laugh.
"The war is over?" Maurinouix mused aloud, signalling his surprise, one that many jeered and agreed with "This is news to me" he turned to the Belgian representative "Is it news to you?" he asked, vindictive humour clear in his voice.
"It is certainly news to me" The Belgian representative said angrily, his eyes glaring a hole into Ragnielsson. He represented the Ministry in Exile, having left the country mere hours before it had fallen to Grindelwald's forces.
"I thought so" Maurinouix said with a nod before he turned to Ragnielsson who seemed to grow red in embarrassment or anger, or both.
"This war is not over, not when all of his collaborators have been taken to account" Ragnielsson glowered at Maurinouix but a hint of fear was present in his eyes.
"There can be nothing less, not after the destruction he wrought onto the magical world and the monstrous plans he had planned for us all!" Maurinouix roared and many within the chamber roared with him.
Cihan wouldn't be surprised if his anger was genuine. After years of fighting against Grindelwald, having lost the war only to be liberated by the English, mostly, and then once more nearly losing the French Ministry building and the surrounding Magical Districts to Vampires of all things, well…
Cihan too would be sour and angry at those who facilitated the madman who brought such destruction to his homeland.
The roars grew so much that the Supreme Mugwump intervened and smacked his gavel down, a burst of magic ruptured from it and dulled the sound in the chamber until everyone willingly quieted down.
"I will have order in these chambers" he said in a stern tone.
"My apologies, Supreme Mugwump" Maurinouix spoke up and with a bow of the head, sat back down.
Another stood up and it was the Portuguese Mugwump, Maria Iguerra de Morreira "Whilst Mugwump for France's…excited proclamation was a breach of decorum, I must agree with the spirit of his words" she said suavely, her words causing murmurs of agreements to ring out.
"With the death of that monster, we can finally end a war that has taken countless of lives and finally bring peace once his conspirators have been brought to justice" she sent a withering look at the Danish Mugwump who was looking to start to look pale.
Cihan wryly thought he might well 'disappear' after this meeting into the Americas until things cooled down.
The proceedings continued as plans were discussed and discarded, proposals put forth and dismissed until a mandate was reached and voted on, one that displeased and worried many Grindelwald supporters…or he supposed former supporters.
The ICW forces would go and provide aid to the nations that had fallen into anarchy and civil war whilst hunting down the main belligerents of the war.
"Now that we have talked enough about bringing an end to this wretched war, where is Lord Atticus Sayre?" The Grecian Mugwump asked and the hall quieted down into a hush once more and it was a grave filling silence.
He wasn't surprised that this was the outcome. There were many who wanted to shake the young man's hand whilst at the same time there were many who were raising concerns if this was just another Dark Lord emerging. There was some amount of merit to it but it paled to the simple conclusion that no, he was not a Dark Lord rising, at least not in the way they were familiar with anyway.
He didn't think he was so wrong in his assessment of the young man that he missed a nascent Dark Lord.
"No one knows yet" One of the ICW commanders spoke up, one that was in regular contact with the forces in Belgium who were now moving to secure the rest of the country. "But it is said that he was…flying…west" The commander said after a moment's hesitancy.
"Flying?" one asked, a question that many had, Cihan included.
"He was reported have been levitating in the air for quite some time before he rose and flew at incredible speeds, speeds that were…outside the realms of enchantment and he was heading west" the commander dutifully explained further.
That made many speechless. True flight had been deemed impossible by many. Oh there were enchantments one could have but it would not have the kind of speeds basic brooms would have.
For the young man to achieve possible true flight…
"I see…" the Portuguese Mugwump said a slightly more faltering voice before she cleared her voice. "Nevertheless, it does draw us to the next talking point, Lord Sayre" she said pointedly.
"What is there to talk about?" The British Mugwump, Syracuse Bulstrode, a cousin of Lord Bulstrode scoffed. "Lord Sayre defeated Grindelwald and our people who fought alongside him did much to end this war" he said in a prideful tone before he sent a glare at the Portuguese Mugwump "What do you want to talk about, specifically?" he said with narrowed eyes.
It wasn't entirely surprising that he was defending Sayre, not with his cousin fighting alongside him. Besides, he was also sure that the political landscape of Magical Britain was forever altered.
He would become a modern day Merlin, to them at least, someone many of their population knew even before he joined the war. A Golden Child of Britain matured into a man worth his weight in Mithril.
A fairy tale hero that was one of their own.
No one there would stand against him, not if Sayre was wise and intelligent and everything he knew of him, no matter how sparse, led him to believe that he would be more than fine.
No one loved someone more when they defeated a bogeyman the size of Grindelwald for them of course.
The room descended in arguments, briefly, and Cihan heard several argue about the dangers of another wizard as powerful as Sayre. The Supreme Mugwump once more quieted the room and allowed the American Mugwump to address the room.
"Many of you have your fears, fears of another Grindelwald but do not be so concerned for I and my government are completely confident that Lord Sayre will not be another Dark Lord, far from it." Richardson's stern voice carried through the room.
"The Sayre family have not poured resources upon resources into defeating Grindelwald only for its Lord to be doubted of their integrity and their staunch support of liberty" Richardson said in a harsh tone before he continued "They have supplied the ICW and numerous countries with support, many of you are here because of his direct actions to liberate your nations" Richardson said pointedly
"The question should not be where is Lord Sayre but what can we do to signal our gratitude for ridding us a Dark Lord that intended to drive us into a war for survival and extinction! After all many of you were happy to offer the entire damn world to another man who would have done far less than what Lord Sayre has done! Show some damn gratitude" Richardson said in an angry tone before he sat down, his arms crossed.
The supreme Mugwump banged his gavel and reprimanded the American but it was too late.
Banging of tables began to happen that soon cascaded into a raucous and cacophonous applause "Hear hear!"
Cihan spied around and saw the looks of several ICW staff look far from happy. He would have to see what that was about.
-Break-
Emily POV
She walked into the Great Hall in her usual confident, graceful stride. Her eyes naturally drew the large lumbering form of the village idiot, the half breed Hagrid who sat alone tending to some kind of bird at the Gryffindor table.
She felt regret washing over her. She shouldn't have used the Acromantula that the half breed was raising in the ritual…
She could have used it as an opportunity to have him expelled from the school, facilitating an accident that would have made him complicit in the injuring of some prominent Heir.
Her school would have been finally free from a half breed that barely able to read his own name.
She sighed inaudibly.
You win some, you lose some.
It wouldn't be her problem anyway, now that she would leave in the next few days.
She made her way towards the Slytherin table and her eyes spied onto the familiar, frail and small figure of Eileen Prince.
"Eileen" Emily said in a warm tone and the girl's head swivelled so fast that it nearly seemed like it would fall off.
"L-lady S-Slytherin!" she squeaked in a way that Atticus would find adorable. He always had a soft spot of meek little things and Eileen Prince certainly was one of those.
She was no great beauty, her large hooked nose took a large surface area of her face, her hair was oily despite the fact she likely took a shower this morning.
Despite that, Emily did like the girl. "What did I say before, Eileen?" she said with an arched eyebrow.
Eileen gave a nervous smile "To call you Emily?" she asked for permission rather than the statement it should be.
Emily gave a warm soft smile at the girl and nodded "That's right, after all, we've spent enough time on potions to be on first name basis, no?"
After Atticus had told her that the girl should be talented in potions, she had taken the opportunity to find out herself and much to her surprise, the girl was brilliant, as in prodigy brilliant and one who could easily become a Master Potioneer by the age of twenty.
It was something that she was cultivating in the girl and her focus on the girl had not gone unnoticed either. It caused many to pay attention to the girl, wondering what made such an unassuming and…plain girl so special that Lady Slytherin herself was spending time with her.
Of course that attention gave her protection but it also gave many unwanted attentions in the form of jealously and pettiness, all within boundary of course.
Whispers had crept up that she was now Emily's protégé, something she had not denied or confirmed, not even to her own inner circle.
It was mostly to see if the girl had a strength about her, that she wasn't the meek thing that she seemed like and much to surprise she did have a strength, one of thick hide and the resilience to keep going. She never retaliated though and at this point, she knew she never would.
Surprisingly Emily found herself not really caring about that.
Eileen bobbled her head so fast that Emily found it amusing and annoyingly quite adorable too.
She might have to torture a few seventh years, she mused. Her…time with Atticus was throwing her all the way off.
Last night…and this morning…
Hmm…she had missed that.
"A-are you alright?" Eileen said in a concerned tone.
"Hmm?" Emily questioned distractedly before she refocused and looked at the girl.
"You kind of just…looked lost?" Eileen said a little confused.
A faint amount of heat travelled to her cheeks "Just a little tired this morning, don't you worry about it"
Eileen nodded, happily accepting that explanation before her eyes brightened "I finally made the Eigelswecht potion" she said happily.
Emily smiled at the girl. "Well done. That's your…sixth NEWTs potion?"
"Eighth" Eileen corrected a little sheepishly. Emily knew that, she just wanted to know if the girl would speak up.
Before, she would not even correct anything, even if she wrote an ingredient wrong on the board. It took longer than she liked to build the girl's confidence.
But she would earn the dividends later on when she had her own Potions Master.
"Excellent. Soon enough you'll be able to do Mastery level potions and it won't be long before the world knows you as Potions Master Prince" Emily complimented warmly.
Eileen blushed but her eyes sparkled at the thought. "That sounds good…" she whispered under her breath and Emily chuckled.
"It does, doesn't it? Well, I'm famished, I'm sure you are too so I will leave you to your breakfast"
"Yes, Emily!" she agreed before she paused for a second "Have a lovely day" she squeaked softly before she turned towards the table.
She definitely planned to, she thought to herself with a malicious glint in her eye that soon turned neutral.
She sat down in her seat at the head of the Slytherin table, Malfoy and Rockwood either side of her whilst Orion Black and Dolohov were opposite her.
"So you get your results today?" Rockwood asked before munching on a piece of bacon. "Can't believe you're leaving before the rest of us have even taken our OWLs!" he said with a mouthful.
"Manners" Druella Rosier said critically, who sat next to Malfoy, muttering the word loud enough for the rest of them to hear.
Rockwood swallowed and winked at her, wearing a roguish grin on his face, or at least what he supposed was a roguish grin and she turned away from him with an upturned nose, and stood up and moved next to Serena Yaxley causing Black and Malfoy to look at Rockwood in amusement as he deflated in on himself a little before grabbed another piece of bacon and munched on it disheartened.
"Cheer up" Dolohov said in an amused smile "She'll notice you at some point"
Rockwood perked up "Really?" he asked with hope in his voice "I asked my father to speak Lord Rosier about a potential betrothal" he looked at Druella Rosier's direction "I'd hoped she…" he trailed off.
"Rockwood, it's not really you" Black interjected causing everyone to look at him. He shrugged "I think Lord Rosier is looking for a betrothal with my little brother Cygnus and she knows about it too"
Rockwood looked shocked before sighed "Well there's that. I don't have a chance against House Black, even a second son" he deflated in on himself, consoling himself with another piece of bacon.
"Why wouldn't he be interested in the Heir?" Malfoy asked curiously.
"Because if Lord Black had agreed" he nodded to Black "he would have refused" Carrow said as he sat down.
"And how would you know that?" Black asked with a raised eyebrow and leaned forward. Carrow gave a sickening smile to Black who narrowed his eyes.
"Well…" he singsonged as he waggled a piece of sausage on his fork at Black "A little spy told me you were keeping it in the family a few weeks ago" A salacious leer grew on Carrow's face "In more ways than one"
Black grew pale as his eyes widened before he reddened and in an angry hush growled out "Keep that quiet"
"Why?" Carrow said loudly. "Don't you want others to know that you're living up to your family motto?"
Black whipped out his wand but was stopped from cursing Carrow by Dolohov.
"Carrow" Malfoy began warningly. "What are you doing" Malfoy's eyes went to the staff table.
Carrow laughed and waved him off "Did you not notice the privacy bubble go up before I sat down?" he said smugly causing everyone to relax.
"…So…" Rockwood began, staring intently at Black "Walburga?" he simply asked and it caused a cascade of laughter that caused Black to flare up indignantly.
"What?" he said defensively "She is of pureblood stock" Emily broke off a piece of toast and looked at him in the corner of her eyes.
"And that explains…" Emily drawled before she took a bite of her toast.
"She is worthy of my attentions" Black said uncomfortably.
"So you went ahead and dishonoured your cousin?" Malfoy questioned, his voice laden with judgement and Emily's lips twitched despite herself.
For all of their bluster about honour and traditions, there were plenty who did not adhere to the courting and cultural traditions that they so proudly espoused to hold up.
"I didn't dishonour my cousin" Black objected, a familiar glint of his madness shining through for a moment before his eyes met Emily and he subdued it and took a deep breath "We just like to have…fun."
"She is your cousin" Emily added in a flat tone, her eyebrow raised.
"So? That doesn't mean anything" Black dismissed "It's not like we're siblings."
Emily wondered for a brief moment if that would have stopped Walburga and immediately regretted it. It probably wouldn't.
"To answer your question" she turned to Rockwood "Yes, today is the day"
And that was that, the…unsavoury topic of…whatever that was, was ended and they began to discuss what would happen in her absence from the school. They had all agreed that Malfoy would rise to the leadership position in the Slytherin Hierarchy, acting out her will whilst the others would keep the rules she implemented intact.
She would be…informed if they acted out against her rules of course. It may seem little, to play dictator in Hogwarts and in Slytherin in particular but these people are those who will grow up to be decision makers in Magical Britain.
It was best that they grew accustomed to her being in charge.
Soon enough, the hall filled in and she was eagerly waiting until the papers arrived. Atticus had told her that advance copies wouldn't be delivered today, everyone would receive the news at the same time and lo and behold hundreds of owls descended down with the IMPand she sat back in her chair, her legs crossed as she waited, savouring the quiet before the storm.
Soon enough, the Great Hall descended in chaos, most were cheering others were silent as a grave as they looked over the images of the battle that had ensued.
"Did you know?" Malfoy asked, his eyes wide in amazement before he looked back down at the images of the battle.
She glanced at them and saw what Atticus' people had cut out. Atticus looked heroic in the images and not the terrifying figure that many would find if they had seen the battle.
Many on the Slytherin table who had intermittently looked at her, in between reading the paper in awe, were now all paying attention to the conversation.
Carrow scoffed "Look at her, of course she did."
Emily smiled "I did" she turned to Malfoy "My betrothed and I are very close."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" a blood curling shout of agony broke through the cacophony of noise, silencing the entire Great Hall.
Her lips curled as her eyes swivelled towards the direction of the shout.
Dumbledore had stood up, his hands trembled as he held up the paper. A hue of magic surrounded him, twisting and swirling like a rapid river that bent and twisted in sharp angled paths and bends.
Glass and porcelain plates shattered under the weight of his magic, eliciting a cry from some of the staff at the table and Slughorn made his way towards Dumbledore and within half a moment, was slung across the room.
"Albus!" Dippet bellowed. "What is the matter with you?!" but Dumbledore paid him no heed as he stared with pained eyes, his face twisted in grief.
Emily's soft chuckles was the only thing that could be heard in a dead silent hall.
Dumbledore finally reacted and turned towards her and his grief stricken eyes contorted into one of rage and hatred.
"YOU!" Dumbledore cried out, magic having bent the space around him as his presence grew to fill the entire hall, pressure growing on everyone bar the strongest.
"Me?" she asked innocently as she stood up lazily, her half lidded eyes gazing at Dumbledore, her arms slipping behind her back, her wand falling into her hand as she sauntered towards the centre of the Great Hall.
"What about me?" she asked with an innocent smile as she stepped away from the Slytherin table.
"Dumbledore, control yourself!" Dippet bellowed out, his wand raised.
"Stay out of this Armando" Dumbledore snarled and whipped out his wand, the staff table transformed into a set of cages with steel bindings that wrapped around their hands.
Dippet managed to escape the cage but he was knocked away against the wall and many students cried out at the act.
"Silence" Dumbeldore's kind visage was nowhere to be seen, a terrifying look replaced it and Emily wondered if this was truly his face.
He swivelled around to her when the students obediently stayed quiet "It is all of your fault, you and that bastard who took him from me!" Dumbledore looked unhinged, his eyes mad with rage and hate.
She was actually taken aback by…this Dumbledore. It was far from the subtle, insidious, creeping man she knew he was and she was more than a little disappointed.
Was he really going to make it this easy for her?
"I don't know what you mean" she tilted her head in a slight confused expression "We have taken nothing from you, Professor Dumbledore" she said respectfully, one that seemed to only sent him into a greater rage.
"You have ruined everything, he was not yours to harm, to kill!" Dumbledore said the last word in a broken rage, one that caused his magic to spasm out of control, the sheer pressure he exuded seemed to drown the entire hall, she could hear the shortness of breath and whimpering of the students in the room.
He really was powerful, she thought to herself and she would have been concerned had she not checked to see if Dippet was still alive.
She had overlooked the fact that if Dippet died, there was a real chance she may have had to take the wards on and that would have weakened her for a few moments.
She wasn't all that confident in the magic of Hogwarts to prevent Dumbledore from killing her even if she said that to Atticus.
There was truth to it, yes, but like most things, truths could be warped. If he fired off a killing curse or something nearly as devastating, she wasn't eager to find out.
"You're talking about Grindelwald, aren't you?" she said with a surprised expression "You mean you're jealous that my betrothed killed" she said that word with a curl of the lips "the man you refused to fight?" she shook her head slightly.
Dumbledore fired off a blistering spell that she just about managed to shield against.
"This was not supposed to happen! He was not supposed to die" Dumbledore was near unrecognisable, his body trembled as he practically radiated rage and hatred, a stark contrast to the kindly mask he liked to wear.
"You mean to say you didn't want Grindelwald dead?" Emily said loudly over the spells she was shielding herself – and the students that Dumbledore was paying no mind to – against.
"NOOOO, he was never supposed to die, only to defeated and made see the light!" Dumbledore cried out as he began to transfigure the tables, the candle stands, the cutlery into an array of weapons.
Cries of fear and shock rang around the hall as the students scrambled away towards safety.
He flung them at Emily who twisted around the spot and a translucent shield of water formed around her that hardened and the sounds of creaking ice reverberated in the Great Hall.
The weapons slammed into the shield of ice and deflected against it, despite the force and penetrating sharpness many of the weapons had.
With her elemental ability now being water, she had a kind of control over the very atomic structures that made up water that could make it near indestructible should she keep her concentration.
She saw a ball with red hues grow and she shattered the ice and returned them into water, long thick whips of water swirled around her.
She quite liked the way Atticus created liquid transfiguration and determined to create her own style, one that be centred on being as free flowing as water.
She had initially wanted to be as destructive as possible, to be a hammer that would pulverise all that stood in her way but after she incorporated the element of water within herself, she found that she preferred to slightly change that approach, rather than a hammer, she would be an unrelenting tsunami where her foes would drown under her attacks.
"So the rumours are true" she exclaimed loudly, the shaking students having escaped to the outer fringes of the Great Hall. "You were lovers with Grindelwald, weren't you? That is why you refused to fight him all that time!"
Gasps of shock rang around.
"Atticus rid the world of that monster, that monster who deserved to die" she said with a determined look on her face, a malicious glint sparkled in her eye before it disappeared.
"If it is anyone who deserves to die, it is you! Gellert deserved better!" Dumbledore roared. "He could have changed! We were meant to do so much together" he cried out and he snapped his wand in contempt, the red ball of magic raced towards Emily.
The whips of water streamed forward, rotating and swirling around until they coalesced into a sharpened thick tendril that smashed into the red ball and an explosion rippled through the Great Hall, smashing all those who did not protect themselves against the walls or against each other.
Emily stood fast, having raised a shield against the shockwave of the explosion whilst Dumbledore had been the same and he was just about to attack before…
"Enough!" Dippet's commanding voice boomed into the Great Hall, a look of rage and disappointment on his face.
"You have attacked a student in these Halls, Albus Dumbledore, breaking the covenant of the Founders!" Dippet angry voice was as loud as a thunderclap.
The Great Hall began to rise in magic as Dippet's eyes glowed slightly, his wand pointed at Dumbledore who looked angry but seemed to understand the massive error he has made.
"Hogwarts demands you LEAVE and never return to this hallowed school" Dippet's command rang like a gong and she saw Dumbledore evicted in a swirl like blip, not unlike apparation but a little more forced and probably even more uncomfortable.
Several Ancient family homes had similar wards that could evict trespassers. It's not surprising that Hogwarts had the same.
She sighed a breath of relief.
The room descended into chaos after Dumbledore was forced out, the cries and sobbing of the young students and more than a few older ones rang in the hall.
Dippet freed his staff and amplified his voice "Prefects! Gather the students of your House and take them to their common room if they are uninjured. Students who need to be treated remain and one of the staff will take you to the infirmary. Lady Slytherin, remain behind." Dippet's orders were all heeded and she remained behind.
The look of awe on the students faces, in particular the first and second years were something she quite liked.
Dumbledore was a fool and now the rest of the world would soon know it.
