-Break-
Emily POV
She gasped breathlessly as she lay convulsing on the cold stone floor. Magic shimmered around her in a deep green glow and hundreds of dozen golden glowing runes shone in a circle around her, the ash piles of the ingredients were the only thing remaining from the final ritual in her fifth set.
Her naked form hugged the cold stone floor for whatever slight of reprieve it would give her as her muscles and bones felt aflame until she felt something settle within her, the magical energies that swirled around her in the centre of the runic circle at a fast pace until the magic began to disperse and the runes began to dim.
Soon enough the pain began to fade as the turbulent magical energies ceased and her convulsing ended as she could feel the change suffused into her being.
She panted slightly until her breathing evened out and she lifted herself off of the floor in a tired and languid way before she inspected her naked form.
"How do you feel?" she heard the echo-y voice of the only other presence in the ritual room in Salazar's Chamber.
She turned her head slightly at the source of the voice with half lidded eyes. The portrait of Atticus' ancestor, Aurilak was leering at her naked form and was utterly unashamed of it.
It was nothing she was not used to, the leering looks that she received, especially these days when she was obligated to spend more time with her noble peers outside of Hogwarts.
A dark look entered her eyes. They practically screamed their foul thoughts into her mind whenever they thought they were giving nothing away.
She no longer needed to use her…looks to obtain anything she wanted, her power and status was more than enough to position herself in anything she wanted now as Lady Slytherin.
She doubted they would even dare look at her if they knew how close she was at leaving them as a gibbering pile of flesh covered in their own spittle and excrement.
She said nothing as she ignored his question, for the moment and began to walk with her bare feet and went towards the dagger that laid on the table at the edge of the ritual room. Her steps were soft, her movement graceful as her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger and placed the knife's edge to her palm and with a smooth movement left a long deep cut in her palm.
Blood dripped on the floor but her eyes were focused on her palm and within a few seconds, the cut in her palm healed and nothing remained to indicate that a cut had even existed.
She smiled triumphantly as she clenched her unblemished hand into a fist.
It worked.
Not that she was ever doubtful of course but there had been a chance. She had mitigated as much risk as she could to her body but there would always be an element to it.
"I see that it worked splendidly" Aurilak spoke up again and she turned to him with a smirk on her face.
"Just as I thought it would" Emily's voice was matter of factly, as if it was nothing but the expected outcome.
Aurilak snorted "Sure you did" He said with a raised eyebrow "Of course needing me to double check on your arithmantic calculations was simply nothing but allowing me the privilege of seeing your genius?" he said with a mocking smile as his eyes looked her up and down "Not that I am complaining" he said with a lecherous smile.
She narrowed her eyes as a spark of contempt entered them before she flicked her fingers and a robe flew towards her and draped around her before enclosed around her.
"Careful…" she said softly, her tone carrying a dangerous tone to it "We wouldn't your portrait destroyed in an accident, do we?"
Aurilak's eyes widened before he raised his hands in surrender "Of course not" he said with an easy smile. "I'd hate to rob either of you young people the pleasure of my company"
Emily rolled her eyes before she vanished the markings on the floor and the ashes.
The ritual she just undertook was her sixth set, months before when she would have taken it had she stuck to Atticus' plan.
The first ritual set was a dark grey ritual, one that was a better version of Atticus' 'enhancement of the body, mind and magic' ritual set. It prepped her body for more taxing enhancements and would allow her to undertake rituals that were…darker in nature.
The second ritual set, which was largely a neutral ritual set, one that she barely changed to suit her needs, had been focused on 'freedom of mind, body and magic', one that focused on cleansing and protecting the body, mind and magic from foreign elements, protecting it from mind magicks, poison and venom.
The third set had built on the enhancement rituals of the first set. It had boosted her magic and increased her control over her magic and most importantly, it increased the density of her magical core, compacting it first and then forcibly expand the core through absorbing ambient magic and sacrifice of two highly magical creatures, in this case, it had been a Acromantula that oaf Hagrid had brought into the school and a newly hatched Scottish Ridgeback that she managed to…liberate from the McKinnon Reserves.
The fourth ritual in the third set had been to amplify her existing affinities; Parselmagic, Dark Arts and Charms. She had noticed that all of her abilities in magic had improved somewhat but those three categories had seen the greatest improvements. The last of the rituals in the third set were interlinked and focused on magical rejuvenation.
Her fourth set was of her own design. Atticus' fourth set was one centred on adopting the abilities of magical creatures whereas hers, even though there were commonalities between her design and Atticus' fourth set, was about enhancing her body from sacrifices of from parts of powerful magical creatures.
Her elemental ability was water, obtained from the sacrifice of a Merman whilst sacrifices of a Sabre-Lion, the magical variant of the extinct Sabre toothed Tiger, a Quatzcoatl and a few other magical creatures had given her a significant percentage of their natural attributes.
Almost all of the fourth set were dark rituals. Dark rituals were designed to skew heavily in taking and often required sacrifice of humans or sentient beings that were alive.
She had captured a Merman, a young one at that, that had been at the edge of the Great Lake and promptly put it unconscious until it was time for the ritual. She had thought of using a mere scale of one or several magical creatures who had water abilities but Merman were by far the better option. They had the intricate control she was after rather than the raw power other magical creatures had. With what she would do with the ability…control was far more important than power. Unfortunately, the thing had seemed to protest the treatment it was receiving when it had awoken.
Luckily she had ensured she placed a silencing ward around the ritual chamber when she had forced it awake otherwise she wouldn't have been surprised if people had heard it through the pipes. Regrettably, she was not as lucky to be spared of its incessant cries and her eyebrow twitched at the remembrance of the shrieks of the creature.
The other ingredients were much less aggravating, there was an underground breeding facility of exotic magical creatures that the Nott's had extensive links with. It hadn't been too difficult to obtain complete carcasses of magical creatures that she used for her other rituals. For those rituals, live creatures were not necessary.
She strode gracefully towards the library where her notes were. She was as nimble as a cat, her eyes could see miles into the distance and her reflexes were beyond even Atticus' she suspected.
Her lips curled as she stared at the notes of the fifth and sixth set.
This was where her genius had come into play. Atticus' sixth and seventh sets were rituals that enabled near biological immortality and controlled regeneration.
Something that would have remained out of her grasp as the last ritual in those sets was a binding ritual that tied everything together worked. And she…she managed to modify her seven by seven ritual set so that she wouldn't have to wait until she was past her second to last maturity.
She had included a minor binding ritual in her last ritual in her sixth set, one that would stabilise the six sets of seven until she could bind all of her rituals together in her final ritual of her seventh set.
It had taken months of calculating and balancing the arithmantic calculations until she arrived at the point whereby she could safely undergo the ritual without causing herself irreversible damage.
Undergoing rituals without understanding them or working to ensure they actually work, would cause one to become unbalanced. It could an imbalance in your magic, your body, your mind or even a combination of at least two.
She had gotten Aurilak from Sayre Manor and asked him to look over her calculations to ensure that she wasn't making any mistakes.
The sixth and seventh set all worked to increase her lifespan by a couple of thousand years but it did not protect one from death. It made her hard to kill, sure but it did not completely protect her.
And that was unacceptable. She had finally cracked the method of anchoring her soul to her body.
Salazar's collection on Soul magic had given her all she needed to work around the problem that was the Trinity…the body, soul and mind.
Horcruxes sheared of a piece of who and what you are...the ritual of sacrificing an innocent also required a sacrifice of the self. A form of safety from death came with the sacrifice of self.
She shuddered at the thought of a version of her that had unwittingly destroyed her brilliance and power by creating Horcruxes. It had been an act of desperation and ill thought but she could understand, after all, had she remained in the muggle world during the Blitz, she would have done all she could to ensure she would not die at the hands of filthy muggles. She evaded that fate by having the one thing her counterpart did not have the privilege to have.
She shook her head as she daintily brushed locks of her hair behind her ear.
However…it did not mean everything about Horcruxes was pointless…anchoring the soul with the constituents of the other two parts that made up the Trinity? That was feasible, especially once she discovered that human horcruxes were possible.
That meant the use of a body to anchor the soul was not an impossibility.
She figured out how the Ancient Egyptians had separated the soul from the body which had been surprisingly difficult to understand and it left her impressed of the Ancient Egyptian Priests.
Nonetheless she had learnt how to separate a soul from a body and how to store it completely within an object. At some point she'd have to hunt for those 'genies in a bottle'. She doubted that she'd ever find ancient Egyptian priests or Ancient Greeks as life force was finite unless you mitigated for it which she doubted any of those people ever did but she might be able to find some remnants of the magic.
In any case, once she had learnt how it worked, she set about creating new rituals that would anchor her soul to her body. With the extended lifespan Atticus had found, and the sheer ability for the body to regenerate, combining those aspects with anchoring the soul...anchoring her mortality to her unchanging body had to be a way to avoid death.
And, in the end, she managed to do it. As long as a single piece of her body remained, it would regenerate itself through time and through ambient magic and she would once more live.
A vicious gleam entered her eyes as her lips curled. She was so close to being truly immortal…
Her eyes flashed for a moment whilst her lips thinned. She walked out of the library towards the Master bedroom where she looked at the clothes that Atticus had left behind on the chair beside the closet, over a month ago, the last time she had seen him.
She missed his…vibrancy, the soothing presence of his magic…and more…
The last few weeks had been…unpleasant to say the least and not even the sparse conversations they had, whether it was through the mirror phones or through the connected notebook, replaced even a tenth of how much she…
Suffice it to say, she was not pleased.
She had the distinct impression that he was hiding things from her…again. It brought back a sense of unease that she had not felt when he had lied to her about his Sight and how much he had known about her.
Once she got dressed, she exited the Chamber of Secrets through a passageway that lead directly towards the dungeons.
Her mind fixated on the stories that had filtered through the IMP. She had known all of the campaigns that Atticus had been in, the battles he had fought but lately…lately he seemed reluctant to wish to see her…or even speak with her.
Their plan had been to prepare the groundwork for their era, he would defeat Grindelwald and she would ensure their influence within Magical Britain was unrivalled along with ensuring Dumbledore falls into their trap.
She had done her part, the heirs of the Darker and Grey families were all submissive to her and it would not be long in the future before she could work the majority of them to become vassals of House Slytherin.
She had made inroads with Grey and Light families from the other Houses, whom many admired Atticus, thought of him a hero, and as his beloved betrothed, it was easy to worm into their social structure and make it her own.
Hogwarts was hers now and there was nothing anyone could do stop that, not even Dumbledore who seemed far more distracted than he should be considering how much he was being undermined.
She had thought that it was simply because of the victories that were being wracked up by Atticus and his followers but perhaps there was more to it.
In any case, despite things progressing as they should, she did not like the…distance he was putting between himself and her.
Her fingers curled slightly as a cool expression fell on her face whilst she walked through the halls of the dungeons in this late evening.
Emily prided herself of being able to dissect the behaviour and the nuances of people's understanding to come up with ways to twist it for her own purposes.
And Atticus' behaviour was clear to her…he was pushing her away. There was little reason for it, she knew that they belonged to one another, there was no doubt in her mind about that.
He would not dare abandon her and she would not let him.
No…
It was something else but what it could be, she did not know. She suspected it could be one of his visions though what could they show...
She did not believe that Grindelwald could kill him. She refused to even contemplate such an outcome.
Her knuckles turned bare white at the mere thought. He would not abandon her.
Magic brought them together and they were going to be the greatest Witch and Wizard in the history of the Magical World, surpassing Merlin and Morgana themselves.
He might have forgotten it but they were forever entwined and whatever he was hiding from her, she would ensure that she'd wring it out of him when she joined him in the war.
There was little for her to do here at Hogwarts now and she was getting the feeling things were going to change soon.
And now that she had ensured that she would be very difficult to kill, she could leave Hogwarts as soon as Dumbledore succumbed to the curse. She had broken into his office not too long ago and saw him working on arithmancy to determine the location of the Mausoleum.
He had cracked it and it wouldn't be long before he left.
It made her brimming with excitement knowing how close she was to eliminating the man who she hated more than any other living being.
She sighed inaudibly as she brushed an errant lock behind her ear as she approached the Slytherin common room. She would arrange to sit her OWLS and NEWTS at the same time within the next week or so.
There was little point in drawing it out. Hogwarts was her first home and would remain hers for all of time but for now, there was little to be gained in staying.
The next week or so had been busy for Emily as she had managed to obtain special permissions to sit her OWLS and NEWTS.
It had been on an indistinct night that she felt the wards trip in the Chamber of Secrets that forced her up.
"Atticus" she breathed out, her eyes brimming with excitement.
-Break-
Credence POV
The trembling earth shook him awake, a pained gasp escaped his lips as he attempted to raise his head. As he did so, he winced as a kaleidoscope of bright colours nearly blinded him.
Beams of light seemed to prick at the dark, black clouds.
The shaking of the Earth was near constant, as if a herd of wildebeest were trampling right where he was.
Where was he?
Last thing he remembered…
Pain shot through his core, the tendrils of the torture he suffered lathered his being, threatening to suffocate him under their fierce grip as his mind latched onto the memories, memories that seemed to have suffused with but a tenth of the pain he'd remembered suffering.
A shiver ran through his spine as he remembered how close he was into falling into insanity, his mind broken under the weight of pain that seemed endless.
"Awake are you?" he heard, disrupting his thoughts, much to his relief and he squinted his eyes towards the direction as he brought back into the present.
He could see rows of men, a crowd of men standing, his eyes adjusting in the strobe like lights that were going off in the distance.
The trembling of the Earth grew to a higher degree as if it was shaking him back into sanity.
Was this his imagination? Had he retreated from reality and created this…illusion to cope with what was happening to him?
He remembered glowing eyes staring back at him as he was being lifted…
Had he imagined that?
"W-wh-what…" he rasped, his throat dry and pained.
Ah…
It seemed the cries of agony damaged his throat.
"I wouldn't try to talk so much, you did quite an amount of damage to your throat, so much so that it will take a few days for it to heal" he turned completely towards the direction.
His vision began to clear somewhat, and he could see the man's face.
Cold grey blue eyes stared down at him, no emotion nor any inkling of what may lay behind those eyes could be discerned, so closed off were his eyes.
Credence turned his gaze away, towards his surroundings and saw that the large crowd that assembled in front of him, were all looking away from him towards the lights in the distance, standing tall and still not unlike stone statues, their hair and back the only thing he could discern from them when the world was alight brightly in ever increasing tempo it slowed minutes later.
The shaking was beginning to lessen, the bright silvery lights were slowing.
He saw that he was laid down the grass and he lifted, with a grunt and some effort, his hands and saw they were bandaged.
"You suffered a number of injuries" The man said in an emotionless tone "It will likely take several weeks for them to heal properly. Even then, you will likely never truly gain the same mobility on your right left and your wand arm" The man told him.
Credence couldn't help but give a grim smile "G-given…" The man conjured a glass of water and Credence nodded in gratitude before he effectively downed the whole glass and coughed for a moment before he cleared his throat, returning his eyes to the man "Given that I was likely a dead man had I not been rescued, I cannot complain" he told the man honestly, his throat still hurting.
The man said nothing and simply inclined his head in acknowledgement.
Credence closed his eyes, the dull physical pain he was feeling an avid reminder of what he had suffered at the hands his tormentor, his former mentor.
He had not thought he would survive, when his mind had begun slipping from sanity, from awareness. Even now, he was not certain if he was sane or not.
The world shook, the very world darkened as immense colours of greens and purples rose to meet the darkness, breaking him out of his dark thoughts.
Credence steadied himself with his left arm beneath him, a pained wince marred his face at the effort before the world steadied itself.
When it stopped "What is happening?" he asked with a frown as the man turned away his gaze towards where the origin point of the lights was.
"See for yourself" The man said whilst he walked away, towards the front of the crowd. A walking pole was near him and Credence picked it up
Credence lifted himself up, slower than he ever remembered and leaned heavily on the walking pole. He looked to his left and he was startled slightly at the sight.
Scores of men were all tied up tied up, some were unconscious, it looked like but it seemed most of them were awake and looking towards the same direction. They were guarded by a number of men but he doubted they were left any chance to escape or attack with the golden chains that was wrapped around their wrists. Those were high grade prison handcuffs that typically was reserved for the most offensive of prisoners.
How they had access to it, he didn't know. Not even Grindelwald and his followers had access to such equipment.
He looked behind him and saw dead men, all in various conditions. He could see corpses of men laid out respectfully and scores of corpses who had been left to rot.
Grindelwald's men.
What could have happened for this to have been pulled off?
The world shook once more and Credence held onto the walking pole tighter as he turned around, towards the front.
As he neared the rows of men, he could see the ICW emblems but also the emblem of a group emblazed on their right shoulders that he knew was the bane of Grindelwald and his followers.
The emblem of the Knights of Mimpost.
It was a shield with a giant tree with orbs that looked like worlds, likely Yggdrasil that had its roots reach out of the shield itself.
He brought his hand to his eyes to shield him against a bright flare that illuminated the world and he could see all of the men's faces focused on whatever was happening there.
As he gazed towards that direction as he walked, he could see two storms of magic, one enshrined with blackness, with darkness whilst the other shone like it was made of a nebula, the rich colours seemed to encompass the figure as if he was made of galaxies.
As he arrived by the side of the man who had talked to him, his eyes turned fixed on the battle in front of him as the world shook, as if the very Earth trembled before their titanic battle.
His mouth fell at the sheer power that was exuded by the pair of these…men.
This…
Reality shuddered under the miasma of magic, cracks seemed to appear into the night sky as black streaks of magic seemed to infect, poison the very world around them.
But just it seemed to overwhelm the natural world, the insidious nature of Grindelwald's magic, the world exploded into a veritable storm of magic, one that raged and thundered as bright streaks of purple, of greens tore apart the malicious magic.
"Who is he?" escaped from Credence's lips, his eyes unable to comprehend the sheer devastation that was being wrought onto the world at this moment.
The command of magic these two had…
People had called Credence an Archmage and perhaps he was. Perhaps he could have been had he not been cast aside from infancy until he began to learn magic in his twenties.
Perhaps…
Perhaps he could have wielded magic as these two were, but, as the world shook, he did not truly believe he could have. Not to this level. Not to this degree.
He watched as a miniature sun grew in the figure's hand, until it grew and grew and it was fired towards Grindelwald.
It seemed to follow Grindelwald as it was its shadow and a massive explosion happened, one that even from this distance could be felt as a massive wave surged towards them, one that would have likely lifted him off his feet had several people not conjured some kind of shield that blocked most of the light and heat out.
Murmurs of shock and excitement rang amongst the crowd, an infectious glee seemed to run within them though…
Credence's breath hitched, his heart was in his throat.
Could it be…
Was he truly dead now?
Despite that, despite the hope he felt at the prospect of his tormenter being dead…
He could not help think that this…
This was insane…
A giant mushroom made of smoke and fire rose in the spot that Grindelwald was at, the sheer devastation that was brought shattered the wards to a significant degree, the world, the world that had once been descended into darkness was cast into the light, as dawn was brought down to Earth by sheer power of magic alone.
Credence looked around and though he could see looks of awe, he could also see fear in many of their eyes.
On some others, he could see grimness, awed bleakness settle on their faces.
Those…Those belonged to a great many faces that wore ICW emblems and who seemed to be of higher ranks. Many of the ICW forces did not seem to be as immune to the awe that the Knights displayed.
"Lord Atticus Sayre" One of the other men spoke up and Credence turned to the man and was nearly taken aback by the look on the man's face.
It was one of reverence, one that he recognised, one that he would recognise even in his most addled state.
It was one of fanaticism, one that he was infinitely aware of during his time with the Barebones and with Grindelwald's followers.
"…Of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Sayre" The man turned his gaze away from, returning his gaze towards the battlefield in front of them.
"The prodigal son of Britain…" Credence murmured mostly to himself.
The boy, as Grindelwald and many of his former compatriots liked to call him, had been one that was nearly universally despised within their ranks.
It seemed that he was considered to be the…scapegoat for the failure of Grindelwald's movement. Though…
It was more than that.
The Sayres were amongst the kind of families that should have been considered to be allies to Grindelwald's cause, a family that would have reaped the benefits of the New World Order that Grindelwald had intended to create and yet…
They were amongst the loudest opponents to the war, once they made their voice heard.
Their money had caused significant issues in the war, money that their enemies had been made bereft of suddenly had found their way towards their pockets and so it caused greater resistance than should have been.
Along with their funding of the ICW, the protection the ICW placed upon their Magical Creature Sanctuaries and Reserves, causing it to be difficult to obtain ingredients unless they assaulted those fortress lands, they had become a true thorn in their sides.
And then Heir Sayre himself caused the neutral Britain to break their neutrality, even if it had not been the Ministry itself, it had been enough people who signed up that it was a moot point to consider Britain still neutral.
Sayre and his family were the greatest collective, other than the ICW itself, that provided obstacle after obstacle against Grindelwald.
To see this boy now…
To be capable of this…
It was astounding.
"No…" he heard someone exclaim, something that grew in intensity as others followed.
Credence almost fell as he stumbled back, his arm tightly locking the walking pole underneath him.
He was not surprised, not truly for he knew better than most the near invincibility of his former mentor. Even so, it left him breathless to know he still survived that despite his hopes and wishes.
"Impossible…" he heard someone say as the light of the world seemed to have been sucked out,
They watched as their battle ensued, great and terrible magic was wrought onto the world, the scars of their battle had been etched into the Earth as it crumbled and shattered as deep wounds ran across its surface.
He had seen much of the Magical World…the beauty of it, the horror within it, the wonder of it, the evil within it and yet…
Today…Tonight…he truly saw the depth of the imbalance within the magical world, one that would stick into his mind, etched as deeply as a name on a tombstone as he watched two men of magic, one that sought to consume all and another…another whose power seemed as endless as Grindelwald's.
The imbalance between the average wizard compared to those who could command Magic in ways that seemed like it should have been reserved for Gods, not Men…
Credence had learned of those who had been deified in the muggle world, the Greek, the Roman and the Indian Pantheons were all prime examples of that. Even the wizarding cultures and tribes, those who worshipped personifications of beings, could be called to worship a likely Wizard that masqueraded as a deity or had been made into one by later generations.
He thought he understood then, how it might come to pass, the notion of worshipping and raising a powerful wizard to deity levels…
He had been wrong.
So, so, so wrong.
He understood now, two wizards were in front of him that proved to him how easy it could be for wizards to truly inspire such beliefs, even amongst their own kind.
The earth screamed as it was ripped apart, the cracking sounds ushered in a huge canyon cracked open, the width and depths of the canyon were immense and just as soon as it was created, hundreds of metres tall rocks were raised from the cliffs of the canyon into the air and used as a weapon against the one who had cracked open the earth.
The hairs on his skin rose tout, the thickness of smouldering magic in the air could be tasted on the tongue as the two men continued their battle with mountain shattering magic, a duel that a poet would skin his own mother to be able to see, the terrible beauty that was shown here today, a beauty that laid bare the truth of the world…
There were those who stood above all others, those who could make or break the world with their will and magic alone.
Time seemed to drift by as they watched this life defining battle, his pain and memories of torture having fade away into oblivion.
The battle seemed to draw to a close, Grindelwald's hateful aura seemed to wash over them, causing them all to shiver in revulsion, grown men shaking to contain themselves, as if a waft of air brimming with the smell of wet decomposing bodies invaded their nostrils.
Grim finality settled upon Credence, his face showing nothing even as he felt a bleak terror within his core as Sayre seemed to be about to be swallowed by abominable black flames that he could feel, even at this distance, sap at his meagre strength.
He could sense the trepidation, the dismay within the crowd of men, their agitation clear to see in their bodies.
By chance, he looked at the fanatical man and it struck him odd, the way he seemed to be at ease, as if he knew something.
It was something some of the others had picked up on.
One of them asked him that very question.
"I have known that…young man from birth." He began, fervent belief shining in his eyes, the kind of eyes he remembered in his childhood by those who
"I have seen him grow unlike any child I have ever heard of, I have seen him understand magic that adults would not understand, let alone an eight year old." The man drew himself up, his arms behind his back. "I have seen him outclass a world champion, outduel him as barely a teenager. I have seen him become a master in Transfiguration at the mere age of fourteen, a field notorious for requiring immense power. I have witnessed him invent spells, inventions like they're nothing, each of his inventions would have been the crown achievement of any talented wizard and yet he creates and will create more and more just as easily as you and I breathe" his words were carried through the air even as the black flames seemed to burn out the very life giving air that surrounded them.
The man had their rapt attention as he continued "I have seen him become a man his father would have been proud of, a man whose judgement, whose integrity and honour were all befitting a man of House Sayre." The man paused, his eyes glinted with a sheen of certainty, of absolute belief that seemed to glitter in the dim moonlight.
"And I have seen, just as you all have seen, the kind of magic Lord Sayre commands" The man straightened out, his arms behind his back as he eyes returned to the scenes before them "What logic and sense tells us is impossible for an eighteen year old, let alone any wizard. No..." His voice petered out to a soft tone though one with strength behind it "Lord Sayre is meant for great things, greater things than perish tonight at the hands of Grindelwald. Witness and hear my words…" he quieted down to a whisper, a whisper that travelled through the air and was heard by all.
"He will NOT fall" his words seemed to have rung like a gong, his words reverberated through the crowd and Credence could see them growing in confidence as they watched even as Sayre seemed to be so close to collapse, his brightness, his magic so close to being snuffed out by corrupting and consuming magic that seemed unsurpassable.
A strobe light began to gather where Sayre was.
A harrowing cry shattered into the world, one that sent an arctic chill down the curve of Credence's spine. Ripples seemed to emanate from Sayre and a sharp twist of pain settled into Credence's core as waves and waves of tormented emotions seem to hit him and the others relentlessly.
They would have crashed down to their knees as the weight of such power, of such torment would have cracked even the best of men but they were kept standing but not through their own strength…no…
They were made to stand by the same magic that threatened to drive them to madness.
A blinding light, centred where Sayre was burst into the world and deep thundering, crackling could be heard as the thickness and pressure of magic in the world rose to unimaginable levels.
The crushing emotions that had emanated from Sayre vanished, a collective breath of relief practically cascaded down the crowd of men, allies and prisoner alike.
His emotions were a turmoil, wonder warred with disbelief for supremacy as he watched Sayre snuff out the undefeatable life consuming black flames as if they were but nothing but a mildly bothersome candle fire.
Sayre was aglow with magic, deep rich purple, green and white streaks of lightning raced around him.
The pressure that had been placed upon them receded like the tide and he stumbled, nearly falling over as he struggled to keep standing as he leaned heavily on the crutch.
His eyes fell back on Sayre, magic seeming to thrum and hum around him, not unlike the steady pace of a heartbeat though in this instance, he imagined Sayre as the heart and magic the blood that coursed through its veins, reality itself, all working to his whims and his will.
Thunder caused the earth to tremble, streaks of lightning seemed to crack the very sky, as if it had been a plane of glass.
Sayre seemed to reach out with his hand, his hand seemingly drawn towards the sky and he pulled, the cracks that had torn at the sky had deepened, widened and the dark clouds were shattered, the clouds that had obscured the Moon having been ripped away and the full face of the Moon shone down at them.
The fear he held for Grindelwald was always one of terror, one that was human as Grindelwald feasted on the fear and pain he brought to the world, his malice and wickedness exemplified the evil within the hearts of man.
And what he was feeling now…there was more to it…there was less to it…a fear that was instinctive.
And it settled in Credence's gut, one that was more primal than it was human. It was the kind of fear one faced with a predator staring down at you, a hidden vestige within his psyche roared and screamed at him to run, to hide from that. He closed his eyes as he gripped the walking pole with bare white knuckles.
A shuddering breath escaped Credence's lips as he brought himself under control, his Occlumency techniques being applied generously before he reopened them, a resemblance of control having returned to him.
Credence wondered, as his eyes fell back at the man...no…man seemed to not truly describe what he was seeing, what he was feeling with the denseness of magic that surrounded them, no…being seemed to be more apt.
"As I said…" the fanatical man began once more, his voice carrying through the murmurs and shock of the crowd "He will not fall, he is meant for far greater things"
Credence turned to him, his eyes widening.
'Meant for greater things…'
His eyes turned towards the gathering men, eyes that had been filled with awe were now full of reverence and he knew, then, the spark of deification had just been set aflame.
A troubling thought entered his mind.
Was he seeing another Grindelwald?
"I am Her judgement" Sayre's voice shattered into the world, the sheer heaviness of his words seemed to pushed itself into the fabric of reality itself.
"Your time…" Sayre's voice thundered and the sky seemed to answer to him.
"…is at an end" Sayre finished and a spear seemed to come into existence into his hand.
Its trident heads shimmered brilliant in the pale moonlight and Credence watched as Sayre seemed to move faster than his eyes could perceive, directly into the powerful spells that Grindelwald fired and they just…dissipated against the trident spear before Grindelwald fired a desperate salvo of curses at Sayre, all of it pointless as it did nothing against Sayre.
For the first time ever, he saw Grindelwald retreat, not out of having lost a tactical battle but out of desperation.
That same desperation caused Grindelwald to use a curse he rarely ever used as he twirled around and cast the killing curse at nearly point blank range.
Before he could even finish his thought process, Sayre seemed to warp the killing curse, an impossibility he had not even thought possible and a devastating explosion of magic occurred, one that sent Grindelwald flying and crashed with a loud thud.
Credence looked up at the sky and saw the deep blue lights streak across it, lightning seemingly out of control but they all knew better.
Gasps of shock and awe rang around him and he swivelled his head around and he felt breathless.
"Merlin…" he heard one of them say in shock, in disbelief.
"He's flying…" Credence said in shock. Sayre had risen in the air, his form completely surrounded with lightning.
Unaided flight was long considered to be near impossible and only rumours persisted about it. There were those who made it seem like they were flying but it was simply a case of cleverly using spells to just make it seem so.
"There are men" he heard a voice, one that was solemn and held an eerie quality to it that he had not yet heard of and he glanced at the man whose face remained impassive though his eyes even from what little he could see of them, were intense and held a piercing quality to them.
"that defy expectations and then there are men who far exceed the limits of that expectation." the man continued as Sayre levelled his wand towards Grindelwald who was a beacon of terrifying, terrible magic despite how worn he must be.
"And today…today we have seen the beginning of a new age." He finished as a detonation of magic exploded from Sayre's spear.
Credence fell as the earth rumbled with terrible intensity as the sounds of the explosion and the earth cracking filled the air.
He, somehow, got up to his feet faster than he could think, forgetting the injuries he had and stared at the sights before him.
Cracks formed in the earth, deeper, longer and crisscrossed the entire surface of the battlefield and were aglow, though dimly, with violet lights that moved much like rivers did.
"God…" Credence whispered, the first time he had uttered the word in a long time and with a hidden meaning that he barely understood.
It wasn't long before Sayre rose higher the sky, after dispatching the same creature that had attacked on the night he defected from Grindelwald's cause and moved towards them.
The way he held the spear, teeming with magic as he shone like an endless beacon of power…
It was, perhaps as that man said, the start of a new age.
As Sayre flown towards them, his eyes caught movement and he turned them towards the source. The fanatical man stepped forward, a strange easiness in his step as he looked up at Sayre before he stopped, on the edge of the newly created cliff edge that was the boundary of whatever wards had kept those two and their magic in, the wards that were shattered by Sayre.
The fanatical man kneeled on one knee, the heaviness of this act, of his act could be felt on every surface of every man's skin as he bowed his head, his eyes facing downward.
A tenseness that could be physically cut threatened to submerge them, until, it reached a higher level as another man stepped forward, a man who bore the same Knights of Mimpost emblem on his shoulder.
Credence felt a sense of unease as he began to witness of what had been a single drop turn into a trickle that turned to a faucet as more and more men stepped forward, striding confidently.
One by one they kneeled alongside the fanatical man, heralding the stark image of something new, something that Credence did not know what to think of.
The crowd he had been part of had been reduced to a mere dozen, the majority of whom seemed to be ICW commanders who watched with trepidation and bleakness in their eyes.
The prisoners were cowed and bowed their heads and Credence knew they would cause no problems, not in front of the being that seemed to be lightning incarnate whose glowing orbs seemed to see far beyond mortal perception.
"It seems like I was right, after all" the dispassionate man mused aloud as he stepped forward but not before glancing back at Credence with his cold blue grey eyes before he turned away and joined the kneeling men.
Credence was left leaning onto his crutch with the remaining men. As he stared at the kneeling men and at Sayre who floating in front of them with the pale Moon behind his back, he wondered…
If this…being…would usher in an age of wonder…
Or…
If he was merely the beginning of something worse than even Grindelwald…
After all…
People always wore faces, masks.
Credence gripped his walking pole tighter.
Only time would tell if the face of something greater represented the true self of Sayre or if those lightning wings and those orbs of his would turn to black and red once his true face was shown.
-Break-
Atticus flew towards the bystanders, his eyes looking at the weakened structure of the boundary ward, his lips thinned.
Their battle had battered the remaining wards that hadn't been destroyed during their battle and he could see some weak spots, especially around the canyon like holes that crisscrossed the battlefield.
He raised his hand as his other hand gripped Scal Slea tightly, his eyes fixing on his palm. Magic seemed to be…abstract at this moment in time, something to be shaped by his will and intent rather than anything formal and complicated.
He wondered, was this how magic was for the Precursors? That magic was simply putty to be made into shapes, into objects, into star spanning structures?
A glowing white orb rose from his palm until it raced towards the sky and smacked into the remaining structure of the boundary ward and it burst much like a bubble, the radiant embers of the wards shining like fallen stars until they dimmed into little specks of dusts that lost their glow.
He heard them exclaim and murmur and his glowing white eyes turned towards them. They stared at him with awe and a hefty amount of fear, so much so he could feel it roll off of them in waves.
Lightning continued to dance around him and he could see that he was like a beacon of power that they must think could trample over them with but a mere gesture, perhaps even without one.
They were not wrong.
He felt different from what he had felt during Genelum, when he felt like a single wrong twitch of the muscle would rip him apart, the strain that he felt of using nature magic and Hyper-Percipience had been immense and draining.
Now…
Now…it seemed as if he reached a state of equilibrium, a state of being that seemed as natural as anything he'd ever felt.
The thrum of power that coursed his veins seemed to caress him, soothe him as he contemplated this…change.
He'd always known Magic had a kind of sentience to it, one that was indefinable and unknowable. It was not intelligent but at the same breath it was knowing and profound.
It was that same dichotomy that soothed him, a reaction to his thoughts and concerns, like a mother rubbing the back of a distressed child yet alien in a way that was not as disconcerting as it could be. A small smile graced his lips as he acknowledged the act for what it was.
He turned his gaze towards the crowd began to descend down towards them and saw Dayton step forward towards the edge of the cliff that once been the edge of the wards that kept him and Grindelwald in.
Dayton's soul was dim though it held an inner brightness to it that seemed to hide within itself.
He had considered the possibilities that he may see Souls in his animagus form and that he might have some of that ability carry over in his normal form but to see it so clearly now…
Once he had seen his animagus form, he knew then that he and Death had a relationship that was deeper than any other person.
His wand had been made of a thousand year old Elder Tree, one that was isolated and alone.
His wand core had contained a Thestral hair from a melancholic Thestral and a Basilisk heartstring that killed none until it brought death to those who hunted it.
One must witness Death to see the being of Death...
...And one would find Death if one met the eyes of the being that brought Death with a glare.
One was his animagus form, the closest representation of his soul and another was a creature that he is immune to, could speak to, could command, is fond of.
He had been touched by Death and granted a second chance at life, his purpose in this life made clear to him…the protector of Magic and its children.
There was a kind of poetic grace to the loss of his wand…consumed by twisted and foul magic that was an abomination to life itself, an end to his greater association with Death and the beginning of his association with Life instead, Nature Magic having suffused into his being in totality.
Speaking of wands…
He pointed his outstretched hand towards where Grindelwald should have been and…waited as his magic searched.
Nothing happened.
The Death Stick, it seemed, would remain out of his hands…for now.
If the legend was true, it would no longer function for Grindelwald as it once had.
And…
Perhaps it was better it remained out of his hands. Wands had…a kind of personality that stemmed from the constituents that made it up. His own wand was one of power, Death and Judgement, one that worked with his will to a flawless degree. It knew of his ambitions, of the war that had been coming and it never let him down.
The Elder Wand no doubt had other factors to it, similar to how the Resurrection Stone accessed the Domain, the endless repository of knowledge of all things that had ever existed in the universe, from where shades of those who have departed could be called upon as at least an imprint of their existence remains there.
If the Stone could access the Domain, who is to say certain aspects of the Domain could not access this plane of existence through the Wand?
Atticus could feel something shifting in the air and he looked down and saw Dayton begin to kneel, his eyes were cast down in seeming supplication, and, for a moment, Atticus did not know how to proceed as he stared down with his white glowing orbs at the flickering soul of Dayton who radiated reverence.
It wasn't long before others joined him, until that trickle became a flood and all the men he had fought alongside with, even a sizable amount of ICW men, kneeled in front of him.
Parkinson stared at him with unblinking eyes as he stepped forward, his cold dispassionate eyes gave nothing away as even he kneeled though without bowing his head, a meaning that Atticus did not fail to understand though it was one he appreciated in some way.
His eyes turned towards the others and he saw Credence, Potter, Bones and other ICW men remain in the distance with the other prisoners before his eyes fell back towards the kneeling men.
His feet touched the ground when he descended down and with an exertion of will, drew back the crackling back to his skin, webs of white glowing lines crisscrossed the skin of his body and face.
"My Lord…" Dayton began reverently, showing a kind fanaticism that he did not need nor want.
Atticus raised his hand and a deathly silence fell among them all.
"Please rise" Atticus' voice was smooth and patient.
The men looked around hesitantly until some brave men did as he bid and slowly all of them were up on their feet, their eyes fixed on him.
"This war…" Atticus took the opportunity to glance back at the shattered battlefield, one that would forever signify the battle that had been fought here. The density of magic and the scars of dark magic would remain here for a very long time.
He turned back to the men who kneeled in front of him. "This war has wrought a terrible price of our people, one that generations will pay." Atticus said in a solemn tone. "All of it happened because of one madman's ambition, an ambition to throw our world into chaos as he sought to rip away the veil that separated two worlds that history has proven can never coexist in the same space. He knew this and decided to do it anyway, to use the bones of the untold dead as a foundation of an empire that he would build in a macabre facsimile of magical society, one that would destroy everything that made the magical world great" Atticus paused for a moment.
He had not intended to provide a speech but with the way they bowed towards him…
It would have ramifications, he knew. He saw the anger and fear that rolled off the ICW commanders. No doubt there would be many political attempts, if not outright physical attempts to curtail him.
The ICW would not suffer someone who was not under their banner, not after Grindelwald and definitely after the kind of power he displayed.
It might not be immediate, not so soon after Grindelwald was defeated but he could see a clash with them.
He would ensure that it would be too late for them to interfere by creating Illos as soon as possible.
"I may have defeated Grindelwald" Atticus' voice lowered slightly "But his ideals have not. The ideals of domination of the other because of ones power because of one's heritage." Atticus shook his head.
"It is an insidious thing, the belief of superiority. It can warp you, change you and more importantly it can blind you." Atticus spoke with passion "I have defeated Grindelwald but I do not consider myself to be superior to any of you, my comrades" Passion seeped out of Atticus' words, words that galvanised the men who had fought with him everything they had "We are a group of men and women who came from all kinds of walks of life, those of you were from Ancient and noble families, those of you who are first generation magicals and those of you who are French"
"Hey!" he heard someone protest much to the amusement of the crowd and Atticus let off a small smirk before it fell of "And in the end, we fought together, side by side, fighting against tyranny and a man who sought to destroy everything we held dear to create a sick version of the world and for that, my comrades, we have etched our legend into the world" Atticus' voice rose like a crescendo
"We have bled together, we have won together and we have lost comrades together" Atticus voice continued to rise.
"BUT IT WAS NOT IN VAIN FOR WE ARE VICTORIOUS!" Atticus finished with a bellow.
The men began to cheer raucously as they revelled in the victory.
"Knights of the MIMPOST!"
"Lord SAYRE!"
"WE WON THE WAR!"
Atticus smiled to the crowd and he left them to their exultation before he descended down to Dayton and an incoming Parkinson.
"Dayton" Atticus said with a sigh.
"My Lord" Dayton said with that same annoying revering tone.
"Why did you kneel" Atticus asked with a calm tone, hiding his exasperation.
"Because you are my Lord, the person I have chosen to follow until the end of my days" Dayton said with fanaticism, one with such strength that Atticus was nearly taken aback.
"I don't think you quite understand the impression you have left on the men" he heard Parkinson said in his normal emotionless voice.
"Not you too" Atticus murmured with the shake of the head.
"Not quite" Parkinson offered a thin smile "Nonetheless you have changed the game, my friend" Parkinson's eyes held a hint of amusement. "And I look forward to see where you plan on taking it"
"Parkinson…" Dayton growled out warningly.
Atticus raised his hand and send a mild glare at Dayton who swallowed.
Ah…
It slipped his mind that his eyes were still glowing white for the most part and the cracks of white glowing lines that lined his body likely made him somewhat intimidating.
"Is it…permanent?" Dayton questioned slowly.
"My appearance?" Atticus offered and Dayton nodded. "No…I think I can turn back to normal" Only because he was so intimately familiar with his magic.
But at this moment, he was not willing…not when he saw so much of the universe and he wasn't sure if he could control it at will. It may not strain him but he would need to understand the triggering mechanisms and how to do change it so that he could do it at will.
Dayton nodded in acceptance.
Atticus turned back to Parkinson "You and I will have to have a conversation at some point…a frank conversation" Atticus said with a steely gaze.
Parkinson simply inclined his head "Naturally" he said with the strained curl of the lips.
Atticus looked at him for a moment before he nodded to Parkinson. Atticus looked at Dayton and gave off an inaudible sigh. He needed some space…and needed to see someone.
He decided.
He began to rise slightly off of the ground. "I am going to go…away for a little while." Atticus looked at the night sky. "I will be back tomorrow." Atticus turned to Parkinson.
"Take the most injury free and fresh men and reinforce our forces that are in France. It might be too late but you might be able to help them." Atticus told Parkinson.
Parkinson nodded slightly "As you command" he said with an incline of the head before he twirled and left towards Potter and Bones.
Atticus glanced at them for a moment and met the eyes of Bones. Bones nodded to him respectfully and it was one that Atticus returned. He then met the gaze of Potter who simply stared at him in a way that made it seem like he was seeing him for the first time.
Potter looked away and began to walk towards Parkinson. He would have to speak with Potter and Bones at some point. He shook his head and turned back to Dayton "See to it that our injured and dead are taken back to our camp"
Dayton looked concerned for a moment before he nodded and Atticus took that as his que to leave.
Just before he was about to leave, he glanced at the prisoners and on a whim decided to speak with them.
He descended down towards the prisoners, his bright glowing eyes staring down at them with all the warmth of a blizzard.
"You fought for a man who lied to you" Atticus began as he floated above them, any protestations they held died on their tongues as Atticus' eyes flickered to the ones who would have dared interrupt him "Lies that a charismatic man propagated in his bid for power, one that left a great many of your homelands depopulated and tens of thousands of dead wizards and witches" Atticus smiled bitterly at them "a war that has devastated our kind to a degree that it will decades for us to recover."
"It would have been worth it!" he heard screamed at him, murmurs of agreement rang amongst the prisoners. "But you have doomed us all! Our Lord would have ushered in an age of magic for our kind but you ruined EVERYTHING" the man spluttered in a rabid fashion as the crowd of prisoners descended into a hush of silence, all waiting in trepidation at what Atticus would do.
Atticus gripped his spear tighter, the bitter smile falling off his face "Would it?" he began softly as he began to float towards the man who stared at him with such hateful eyes…
"Yes." He hissed out at Atticus, unrepentant and proud.
Atticus said nothing for a moment until he did "That is your right to believe so" Atticus' magic rose like a crescendo causing the man's eyes widen in angry fear "Just as it is my right to ensure you could never act on such beliefs again." Atticus spoke softly but his words reverberated around the crowd and his eyes were as hard as ice.
Their eyes widened at the threat that his words were.
Good.
They understood.
He turned his gaze around "We have fought this war as enemies, a great many of your comrades have died in the lies that Grindelwald propagated, that he fought for the magical world when all he truly wanted was to rule its ashes and atop of mountains of corpses. He did not care for the magical world nor did he care for any of you." Atticus stared all around them, his eyes meeting their gazes "The Magical World cannot survive another war like this, a war that claimed thousands of lives and nearly just as many thousands of families of our kind." Atticus was not under the delusion that some of these men would not return home after the ICW processed them. They will want reparations and many of Grindelwald's followers were wealthy.
Plus…it wasn't as if they could hold so many people in prison. There was going to be an 'after the war' and Atticus would do what he could to ensure that he won the peace.
"I understand your concerns about the muggles" Atticus told them, their eyes widening in surprise "But all this war has achieved is near destruction of the magical world, everything that neither side, except for one madman wanted" he said meaningfully. He rose slightly in the air, looking down once more "We may have been enemies and stood against each other but that will never hide the fact that we are all children of Mother Magic. Remember that and the next time we see each other I hope it will be as brethren rather than enemies." Lightning crackled around him as the magic around him intensified.
"Every death of those who have Mother Magic's gift is a waste and we were never a numerous people. Remember that the next time some fool with ambitions of becoming a Dark Lord approaches you because if you're not careful…" Atticus rose higher in the air "You may well be responsible for the death of magic, the very thing you would have hoped to prevent but helped caused anyway" Atticus' ominous words rang in the prisoner's eyes until he rocketed away until he soared towards the West.
As he approached the white cliffs of Dover, the faint glow of wards that protected the Isles could be seen. They would not keep him out but they would know if he had crossed it with the way he was exuding magic.
There was a simple solution for this.
He rose into the sky at a high angle and pierced through the clouds. The stars and the Moon stood above him as he stopped to a halt, his feet touching the clouds ever so slightly, as he were standing on them. He cast his eyes to the distance and gazed with almost a kind of peace at the sea of clouds that stretched into the distant horizon.
The air was thin here though he could not tell from his breathing no…that was taken care of with simple ease, he could feel the thinness of the air on his hands, on his face, the low relatively low number of molecules that were here in comparison to the ground was palpable.
He rose once more, a few feet above the sea of clouds before he rocketed away for a number of minutes before he ceased his flight, letting go of his power and he began to arc downwards, slowly, until it began to speed up and he reached terminal velocity as he free fell.
He draw back his magic, containing it within himself in a tight core to the point that he was no different to a squib before he passed through the detection wards.
As the ground neared, he drew his magic back to the fore, a large explosion of magic surged from within him that once more had magic and lightning crackling around him as he stopped within a few feet of the ground.
His eyes surveyed where he was and he saw that he was in the middle of grazing field with a number of horses that began to audibly make noise, likely due to distress.
He smiled at them as he set his feet back onto the ground. He was back in England now.
With a silent pop, he disapparated and arrived back at the gates of his family home, the familiar thrum of magic, the comforting blanket that it placed upon him as it embraced him. He smiled at the familiar magic.
He drew back his magic until only a faint outline of white glowing lines remained on his face and the glowing orbs of his eyes dimmed enough to allow the familiar colours of his eyes to shine through.
His eyes saw bright presence within the home and he knew who could only be. He passed through the gates and walked on the steep granite pathway that was flanked by the never changing beautiful landscape that had a variety of beautiful plants and trees his mother and grandmother had picked all those years ago.
As he entered through the main door, the familiar sight of the white silver and dark green themed entrance hall with wide curved stairs on the left hand side came into view. The interior of the manor seemed as it if was carved from marble, for every section had marble stone with deep grey veins running through them. The right hand side of the entrance hall led to a room through downward leading stairs which lead to the floo.
He stepped towards the rear of the entrance hall where the familiar presence was. He walked past the talking portraits of his ancestors who exclaimed, chattered and whispered to each other as they saw him walk past, more than a few of them looking proudly at him as they recognised at least somewhat what he had achieved with their family ability.
He arrived at the hearth of the home and saw his great grandfather sitting by the fire with a glass of red wine, likely Domaine de Clito, the famous red wine of his uncle's family.
"Grandson" his great grandfather's voice was deep as he turned to face him, his eyes were searching before his eyes travelled to Scal Slea, the lightly glowing spear that remained in his hands.
"Grandfather" Atticus said with the bow of the head, a signal of respect for his elder.
His great grandfather Benedict said nothing else for a few minutes until Atticus stepped forward and sat across from him, Scal Slea floating in the air.
Their eyes were fixed on each other.
"I see you've managed to reach the pinnacle of our family's ability" Benedict finally broke the silence, his tone neutral as his eyes looked over for a final time at the floating spear.
"Is that all you've got to say?" Atticus smiled thinly as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes a little saddened.
Benedict's eyes hardened for a moment before a look of resignation came across him. "No" he sighed before he glanced at Atticus, this time far more tired and old than he'd ever seen his great grandfather.
"But you're here now and all the things that I had wished to say seem…unimportant now" His great grandfather admitted.
It was not often he looked every bit of his 129 year old self just as he did in this moment.
"I'm sorry" Atticus said softly, meaning every bit of his words to his great grandfather. He had asked a great deal of Benedict, to hold the House and its business with no familial support except for great uncle Richard at his advanced age.
Benedict looked up and the corners of his lips sharpened slightly "It's alright, my boy" Benedict straightened up in his seat slightly. "Tell me, son, you can only be here if you have won, especially with how you seemed to have reached a state of Hyper-Percipience that only a very few had the privilege to reach" Benedict's eyes shone with pride.
Atticus laughed softly, the corners of his eyes creasing with warmth. He spent the next few hours talking with his great grandfather, this time Atticus was the one who told the tales and his great grandfather the one who listened avidly and with rapt attention.
Atticus told him how close he was to death and how close he was to leading their family to ruin with his arrogance. He told Benedict of his mind conjuring his father's scorning face looking at him as he thought of how he failed his family once more. Benedict had stiffened during this conversation and had said nothing for a few moments and then simply asked him if he had learnt from this experience and Atticus told him he did and that he would not take such risks again, never again.
Benedict told him there and then that Atticus should put it behind him and that Markus would never hold his death against him and he would only wish Atticus to be the best of them. Benedict then told him that as long as he held to his promise to never take such risks to himself and his family, there was nothing to feel guilty about.
It removed a great deal of guilt of his shoulders, Benedict's words and opening up to him. He finished as he told him of how it felt when his magic reached out to the world and the kind of power he felt when he destroyed Grindelwald. He told him everything and about how people kneeled to him and Benedict listened. It was cathartic to unleash the burdens to a man who had been his first mentor.
Until he reached the one thing that still concerned him but Benedict waved it off "If he survived, then he survived" Benedict gave him a meaningful look "You have defeated him once, you will defeat him again if it comes to it" Benedict paused for a moment as he looked at Atticus "Your sister and mother?" he asked with a serious tone. Atticus had not told him where they were but he had a mirror phone so he could speak with either of them.
Benedict was aware enough to know he should not ask any questions that might lead others to them.
Atticus shook his head "Not yet." He said with a sigh "I do not think I can risk them yet, not until I am certain where Grindelwald might be and I can get rid of him and whomever else poses a risk to our family"
Benedict nodded with approval "Good." Once more a tired expression came across his face "I have lost too much of my family to that man." Benedict seemed to want to say something more but he withdrew into himself at the last moment. Atticus picked up on it though and nodded in understanding to his great grandfather.
"Great Grandfather…" Atticus began, his tone hesitant and Benedict waited patiently with a soft smile.
Atticus sighed. Benedict did not know of Moira and he wasn't sure if he should let him know.
He would speak with it with Moira. He shook his head "Never mind" he paused for a moment "It can wait" Benedict looked at him strangely before he nodded.
"What will you do now?" Benedict asked with curiosity in his voice.
Atticus stood up, his eyes facing towards the garden. He looked over his shoulder, a waning smile on his face "I have to go see about a girl" he told Benedict who began to laugh.
"I doubt she'll be as forgiving as I am for the risks you took against Grindelwald." His lips twitched "I'm not even sure whose reaction will be worse, your mother's, your sister's or your wife to be" his lips curled "Good luck" he said with amusement in his tone. Atticus suppressed a grimace before he gave a half hearted glare to Benedict that did nothing but aggravate his amusement.
He walked up the stairs to his room and closed it behind him before he reached out into his robes and pulled out his shrunk trunk and set it on the ground. It grew to its normal size and Atticus popped open the top before he proceeded down the stairs. He made his way to the living room where the Vanishing Cabinet that connected with the one he left in the Chambers of Secret.
They had not used it too often as it seemed that there was something about the war time wards around Britain that disrupted the link between the two. Not enough to completely make them ineffectual but rather dangerous to use.
With a wave of the hand, he banished Scal Slea away and he walked through the Vanishing Cabinet and the familiar sight of the central room that lead out from the mouth of the stone statue greeted him.
The wards were tripped and he knew it would be but a moment before she came down even at this late hour.
He went towards the library and saw dozens of books arrayed on the desk along with just as many parchments filled with her notes.
He frowned for a moment when he read what it was she had written about.
She was researching Soul Magic?
She had never told him anything about that.
He breathed a little slower when he felt her presence behind him, the familiar feel of her magic threatened to enthral him.
"Emily…" he whispered before he turned around and his eyes creased with fondness as his eyes met the dark blue eyes that rarely shined through for anyone but himself.
In those eyes of hers he could see the flickering flames of the inner fire she possessed, one that heralded her as a force of nature, one that would never stop until she achieved her goals.
Her blood red lips contrasted beautifully with her pale skin, as if it were a beacon drawing him, luring him in.
She was spellbindingly beautiful.
Her eyes roved over his visage, her calculating gaze fell all over his body, no doubt analysing every minutiae of detail until they fell back to his eyes, the dark blue sheen of her eyes having turned black, and in that moment, he knew her walls were up.
"So you've changed" she said without emotion as she began to walk until she walked past him. Her fingers flickered, the parchments and books began to float before they settled on one of the shelves.
"It's temporary" he said with a tentative wry smile.
She hummed noncommittally as she stared at him for a few moments. He had no doubts she had a tone of questions but it seemed like it was merely secondary at this moment in time.
"I've missed you" Atticus admitted to her, his eyes meeting hers as he stepped forward, closing the distance that had been between them, in more ways than one.
"Have you?" she said softly, her tone pleasant though carried hurt accusation in them. Her dainty hand rose and touched his face causing him to close his eyes at the soft, deft touch.
Her hand left his face sooner than he even remotely liked and reopened his eyes. "I'm not so sure" she said in a demure tone as her eyes glinted like hard diamonds. "It seemed to me that you were more than happy to keep your distance from me" Her tone was biting and she stepped slightly as her magic began to turmoil around her.
Atticus couldn't help but let the disappointment filter through his face. "Far from it…" he whispered, his expression changing to one of sincerity as he tried to convey every bit of this.
Atticus took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers "I am never happy to be distant from you" Atticus whispered to her, his left hand rose and caressed her cheek.
"Let me explain?" his voice was soft, fragile.
She stared him down and after a moment closed her eyes. She leaned into his hand and a warm glow of happiness filled his core.
He moved his face down and she looked at him with half lidded eyes before a ghost of a smile appeared on her face
Finally, when his face was so close that he could almost touch her nose with his own, she moved forward and their lips met. The warmth and familiarity of her lips send waves of pleasure through his body as he snaked his arm around her waist.
Their magic intertwined as it so often did with ease, joy and excitement.
They broke off, their foreheads touching and he could faintly see a rosy haze in her cheeks and their breathing was a little heavy.
She pulled away, her eyes cast down at their entwined hands before her thumb touched her lips and gently caressed her swollen blood red lips.
She sighed nearly inaudibly.
"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 "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 is more like a poorly repaired shattered porcelain vase than the pretty face I last remember" 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.
-Break-
23rd of March, 1943
Derek Saunders POV
"Wha-" he thought groggily as an annoying buzzing was interrupting his sleep. He blinked tiredly, gruffly.
He'd stayed up for the last few nights, barely getting enough sleep as he was in the last stretches of his degree at Cambridge and it was turning out to be a real slog, especially this dissertation on the impact of total war on the economy.
He sank his head back onto the pillow, intent on ignoring the buzzing.
An annoyed push in the arm and a disgruntled moan forced him to reopen his eyes "Stop whatever that is" she mumbled into her pillow as she kicked out with her leg.
Derek suppressed a growl in his throat as he lifted his head and glanced to his right. The faint light of the Moon light shone through the wind and he could see the swirling mess of hair that covered her face almost completely.
He tiredly smiled to himself. Sandra herself did not have it easy either, with what her being in her third year of her apprenticeship with the law firm that the Sayre family used, still only selectively represented businesses, most them being Atticus' private endeavours, for the moment as Atticus had been funding the law firm personally so that muggleborns could apprentice there, and studied for a law degree. Unfortunately, she was studying at Oxford as Cambridge didn't award female students degrees whereas Oxford did, starting in 1920.
Magic would have been easy to use, to confound people to think she was male but Sandra would not hear of it and he would not ask it of her.
It meant that they hardly saw each other and when they did, they did not have much time with each other but it seemed like it didn't really matter too much to either of them, both being driven people who sought to take the opportunity that was in front them with both hands. Their romance had been unexpected, in truth and it seemed to just have happened out of nowhere. During Hogwarts, they did not run in the same circles, despite being both muggleborns though they had been friendly with each other.
Only when they started working together with Atticus and were put in leadership positions in his endeavours had something sparked between them.
The buzzing grew a little louder and he blinked but before he could turn towards it "Goooooo" she groaned out, sleepy annoyance creeping into her voice.
"OK, OK" he said as he threw off the cover of the bed and jumped to his feet, dressed in nothing but his undies after he picked up his wand from under his pillow.
As he gently closed the door, the tip of his wand lit up as he walked through the hallway of the second floor.
Since they studied in two different towns, they had to be a little bit more mindful on how they lived together, especially to make sure they didn't arouse too much suspicion, particularly during the…delicate period they lived in, with what the war and all.
Neither of them wanted to be accused of being Krauts and being absent when you shouldn't be, was one way.
After all, getting to Cambridge or Oxford wasn't exactly the easiest thing, especially during the war. So, they maintained their own private apartments in Oxford and Cambridge respectively whilst they shared their home in Devonshire in the late evenings.
In truth, it rarely happened these days, especially with the war effort. Whilst he was not allowed to partake in the muggle war by the Ministry of Magic and had a ready made excuse (and wasn't that a surprise – until it wasn't and he found out the Department of Muggle Affairs which was run quite well by half bloods despite incompetent snotty pureblood Directors) which allowed him to be exempt from conscription, he did still volunteer for Air Raid Precautions duties.
He might not be able to join the war effort because he was Magical but he was still British and that meant something to him. Especially when his family members – and Sandra and other countless muggleborns – were going to go overseas when it was time.
Knowing that they'd win the war was little solace given that it was not guaranteed their family members would survive, despite winning.
He sighed as the sound of the buzzing grew louder. What was that thing? He wondered.
He doesn't remember buying anythi-…
His eyes widened and he began to run and practically flew down the stairs until he got to his living room and the ornate bulbous device that sat above the fireplace was buzzing like crazy.
That only meant…
He swallowed thickly. He had known it would happen…someday soon but now?
He walked up to the device and pressed his thumb onto the symbol and it lit up before it began to thrum and began to float above the fireplace.
His eyes widened and quickly grabbed it and placed it in the centre of the room and just in time as the world exploded in lights and Derek quickly backed off, stepping back before gazing at the windows, just to make sure the window blinds were there which they were. The room darkened significantly, almost as dark as it was before he woke up.
He swivelled around and his eyes widened in great surprise. Those were dark clouds. He narrowed his eyes. That wasn't normal.
As he walked around the lights, the views of the live images – or Holo-gram as Atticus likes to say – was shifting to suit his eyes. It was different to magical newspapers which did show depth but were still constrained to two dimensions on paper.
This however, was different and showed what he was seeing in three dimensions, one that had taken a ghostly kind of view but far more colourful and able to be viewed from all angles.
He saw some rays of the moon shine through the dark clouds until the view swivelled around downwards and his eyes goggled.
A menacing black swirl stood over a body and at the centre there was a man.
Was that…Grindelwald?
He narrowed his eyes as the feed seemed to look closer and he could hear sounds now. Sounds of wind before he could hear voices until he
"Do not die so easily, dear Credence" Grindelwald's voice sounded out and Derek stilled though he was not sure if it was because of fear or shock.
"Merlin" Derek exclaimed softly as his eyes couldn't leave the sights before him
The man's screams echoed in the living and Derek turned green at the horrific torture before him.
"What is that noise?!" He heard Sandra demand in a raised voice as he heard her come down the stairs
He shook himself clear as he glanced at the door from where Sandra just entered wearing her silver silk robes with a frowning displeased look on her face until her eyes widened as she stared at the images with immense shock and fear, her mouth open until another bout of screaming and torture caused her hand to go to her mouth, her eyes wide in fear and disgust.
"…Is that…" She began, her eyes not being able to remove themselves from the sight before them.
"…Yes" he said simply, a grim look settling on his face as he turned back to the scene before him.
She said nothing for a moment "It's time isn't it?" she said quietly over the screams of the broken man who seemed to be losing consciousness.
"…Yes" he said a little more solemnly. He walked over towards her and waved his wand, muttering a spell under his breath, conjuring a sofa for them to sit on.
She snuggled into him for comfort and he tightened his hold on her shoulder. They remained silent for moments and they saw a bright silver explosion rip towards Grindelwald before they saw a mass of purple and green dash forward and throw someone.
"Atticus" she said grimly and he only nodded silently as they shared a glance and turned back to the screen.
They stood enraptured, unable to say anything further, watching the proceedings before them. They watched as Atticus batting away Grindelwald's curses as he shielded the two others They watched as they saw the thrown disappear in a portkey departure with the tortured man and they watched two monstrous auras shimmering.
"God" Sandra exclaimed "That can't be their magic, can it?" she turned to him with wide eyes "Surely not?"
Derek looked at her grimly "It is. Don't you remember in our magical theory class about powerful mages?" he asked her. He remembered the conversation that powerful people were capable of extending their magic like…that.
She spluttered "I just thought that was just fanciful stuff" she said in an aghast expression.
Derek gave her a look that just screamed 'really?' and she turned a little sour.
"Finally" Grindelwald's voice broke up anything she was going to say and they swivelled back to the screen "Finally, we meet Sayre"
They listened to their conversation, gripped with the tenseness of the situation, dismayed, shocked, angry and fearful when Grindelwald explained his plans.
"Jesus" Derek muttered. "He's as bad as the Nazis"
"He's worse" Sandra said grimly "Who is to say that he didn't cause the Nazis to be as bad as they are?" Derek clenched his fist as they fell into an uneasy silence.
It was very likely that was the case and from the sounds of it, the madman was aiding the Nazis in prolonging this war entirely for his own nefarious and monstrous plans.
The battle begun and they both watched with their hearts pounding in their chests.
Derek watched with awe and fear at the gigantic nature of their battle, one that resembled closer to gods than it did people.
He had never heard of anything like this. Never in his History of Magic classes, never in any books he had ever purchased.
"This is insane…" Sandra's voice was a whisper, one filled with awe and trepidation.
Derek couldn't help but agree.
They'd cheered when they thought Atticus had finally defeated the madman until the terrible man walked out of that attack having aged years in that time.
"I honestly never thought Grindelwald was as bad as they had said…" she whispered in a dull tone "If he can survive that kind of magic that Atticus is throwing about…" she trailed off.
He swallowed harshly. The kinds of magic they both used…
What could any of them do against that?
He had known that Atticus was a cut above normal wizards but now…
God, Atticus could do anything he wished and yet he bothered with people that most of his noble peers would rather kill in the crib.
It made him only appreciate his friendship with the man more and the goals he had.
"My end goal...is to create a magical country that is solely independent from muggles...a country that shares no borders, or isn't mixed with muggles. That is my end goal. Everything that I am doing, what I am asking and paying you to do, is geared towards helping me achieve that" Atticus told them
Both he and Sandra stared at him in shock. He had not expected…this, not at all.
Atticus continued "It is a dream of mine that is decades away and it is something I'm certain will happen, regardless of what is in my way. I see many things wrong in both worlds and I don't see a way that can reasonably bridge the differences between those of different blood statuses, mainly muggleborns and purebloods that doesn't end in blood as time goes by. Reforming societies that are centuries old that are heaped in corruption and prejudice is unfeasible."
"So you decide to make your own country" Sandra said breathily
Atticus nodded "One where the foundations can be set based on fairness, on common sense, and fraternity whereby magic binds us all…."
A world where his children…hopefully his children with Sandra as he glanced at her before returning his eyes to the scene before him, could live freely and happily in a world of magic without the bigotry, the hatred and the sheer discrimination that existed in the magical world as of present.
A world where he would help build, from the very foundations to its very laws.
Seeing Atticus' power in front of him…
He could very well do what Grindelwald had set out to do, to use his power to conquer, to force his will onto the world but he didn't and wouldn't…no…Atticus was intent on creating a country, a place, a home where they could start fresh, without shedding the kind of blood that might have been necessary to shape a society worth living in.
It swelled a kind of level of respect that he did not think he could have reached, his admiration growing for Atticus.
They continued to watch with rapt attention and Derek's heart nearly stilled when they watched Atticus almost be consumed by that monstrous black flame.
He leaned forward, his hands clenched tightly, trembling at the anger he felt at the disgusting threats and promises that Grindelwald was making towards Atticus' family.
"Bastard" Sandra cried out in anguish. Derek said nothing as he just stared at what he thought could be very well the end of their friend, killed before he could even begin the grand visions he had shared with Derek and Sandra.
Or so he had thought.
Atticus seemed to explode in a white light and seemed to have become lightning incarnate, deep purples and greens swirling around him. His eyes were completely white, making him seem like a deity.
When the killing curse streamed towards Atticus, they thought they'd seen the end of him but just as ever, he surprised him in ways that he could never accurately describe. When he destroyed so much ground in that attack against Grindelwald, he let out a shuddering breath.
…It was over. Until some kind of strange creature attacked him and after Atticus killed the thing and went towards where Grindelwald was, flying unaided above all things, his troubled look at the lack of a body was the last thing that they saw.
Silence reigned in their room. He wasn't sure how long for the first lights of dawn seemed to creep in.
"…Our boss is one scary man" Derek said finally, breaking the silence.
Sandra's laughed incredulously, one that bordered hysterical as she moved away from him, a wild look in her eyes. "scary?!" she said in a high pitched voice before she visibly calmed down, her voice low "I don't think scary even begins to describe how powerful he must be and just how…little we must all be" she shook her head.
"And that it took that much to kill Grindelwald" Derek added, his voice grim.
She nodded tightly "God" she shook her head in slight dismay "The plans that man had. Atticus is a damn hero for ending him"
Derek nodded agreeably "He is" he hesitated for a moment, a troubling thought on his mind, one that Sandra picked up on.
"You are worried about how people will view this?" Derek nodded troubled.
She sighed "Honestly…if I hadn't known him, he'd scare the very panties off me" she smiled wryly though her eyes told him the truth, she was terrified.
"…But" she began "I'd also know that he was a hero, one that fought for the rights of people and someone who has saved countless of lives." She nodded to herself, gaining in strength, a fire entering her eyes "We just have to make sure that everyone recognises him as the hero he is and not the danger he can be"
Derek smiled at her and nodded. "We owe that to him in the very least" he agreed.
Atticus had changed the lives of a great many British muggleborns – and squibs – all at his own cost. Derek was not someone who did not recognise that Atticus did this not completely out of charity or a selfless desire, no man was that good, but for the most part, it was a genuine desire to help them.
"We can't show everything" Sandra suddenly said causing Derek to blink at her before he pondered it over.
Sandra continued "I mean we know him and that fight scared the life out of us. He'd never be viewed the same…" she struggled for a moment "I mean…How easy would it be to twist the images into something that will set the magical world against him?" Sandra pointedly said to him.
"True enough" Derek murmured. "With the way most people are…maybe not gullible but fast to believe what they're told…" Derek trailed off. He remembered one time, in his second year, there had been an article in the Daily Prophet that warned of the dangers of muggles, claiming that they still bathed in the same water they…relieved themselves in.
He had firsties and other years come up to him and other muggleborns asking questions if their family did the same.
Some muggleborn had admitted that this had been in the past but not in the last few centuries but it had been enough for the rumour mill to latch onto it until they inevitably forgot it and latched onto the next rumour.
He had been annoyed at the time but as time went on, he could see that people were willing to believe even the most ridiculous rumour.
It was an endemic thing within Magical Society, at least in Britain. It was fascinating at times, in truth. He'd debated this point actually with Atticus about it, amongst a great many other things, and one of the things that they'd settled on was it was likely because magic allowed for a great many things and so the tallest of tales were not necessarily something that would automatically result in an incredulous, disbelieving response.
Especially when it reinforced personal beliefs. Magicals raised in the Magical World could be astounding fixed in preserving their beliefs, even if it was proven wrong and only when it could be absolutely irrefutable and made by the right person, did opinion change.
It was why Derek believed that Atticus was the right person to make a great amount of change. He had the right heritage, the right ideals and the charm that would make people stand and listen and that made him very dangerous to a great many people.
A threat that this recording…would truly ruffle a great many feathers, to the point that it was not unthinkable that he might be cast as a Dark Lord.
"Exactly" Sandra nodded firmly, her lips thinned "We need to cut out a lot of things but keep in their conversation." She paused for a moment "We definitely can't show the crazy spells either of them used" Sandra shuddered "The last thing we want someone trying to figure out the spells"
Derek grimaced "I agree."
Sandra jolted up, her eyes wide "It's dawn in four hours, we need make sure we have everything ready for the morning paper" she exclaimed as she raced towards the stairs.
"Call Hubert Higgins over!" she shouted as she climbed up the stairs.
"And make sure you call the others and tell them to set things up!" she shouted as she slammed the door shut.
Derek also rose and hastily walked up to the device and checked the device and sighed a breath of relief. It seemed like it did store the footage.
He went to work and began to copy the footage and began to edit it, taking out most of the latter parts of the fight. Once he was done, he set it back on the table towards the small hand sized mirror.
"Simon Hargreaves" Derek intoned and waited until a brown haired man's face appeared on the mirror.
"Derek?" he questioned, his Black Country accent clear to hear, slightly confused and slightly groggy. It was about six hours behind in the States meaning that he just interrupted his sleep.
"Simon" Derek nodded, a serious expression on his face "It's time, the battle happened"
Simon's eyes widened as his mouth fell "Aye?!" he shot up and leaned against the back of his bed "And?! Tell me!" he practically spat out the words, any sign of sleep addling his mind gone.
Derek kept an impassive face, one that made Simon worry ever more until he broke out a victorious smirk, one that Simon raised his eyebrows at.
"He won?!" Simon said with shocked awe.
Derek nodded "And boy was it done in a spectacular way" Derek gave off a stilting laugh before he shook his head and glanced at the mirror "Are you near the receiver?"
Simon nodded and seemed to go into a cupboard off screen "It's on and ready to receive it" Simon told him
"Alright" Derek answered and went towards the device and proceeded to activate the 'uploading' element of the device. Atticus had explained a great deal of the device but most of it went above his head. It was a strange mix of science and magic and unfortunately, Derek was only really an economics and business orientated man even if he wasn't too shabby with magic.
"Code is 634794643" he told Simon and the device began to upload towards Simon's device which finished within a few seconds.
"Got it" Simon confirmed "I will organise things on my end though it might have to be six or seven hours from now"
"That's fine, we always suspected that it would be sudden. Just keep to the plan and we should be fine" Derek stopped for a moment and gave Simon a serious look "Just make sure you watch it before the others." It might not be the entire fight, but it was still spectacular.
Simon smiled wryly "Already planned to do so!" he laughed heartily before he shook his head "Can't believe big bad Grindie got killed off by a teenager" a Cheshire grin adorned Simon's face. "But then I'm not surprised Boy Wonder did it. Maybe things are just written in the stars for some people"
"I'm going to ignore that comment calling him Boy Wonder, he hates that term you know" Derek said dryly.
Simon waved him off "Bah. Anyway, I'm off – Don't bother calling Aussie Jack, I'll do that! Good luck and I'll speak to you later today!" The call ended and Derek sighed and shook his head. Simon was clever, he had a very structured way of thinking that made him ideal to study Engineering and studying at MIT had proved to be something that meshed well with him but he was also impulsive and had the tendency to…run his mouth.
Derek wouldn't be surprised if Simon had run into a bit of trouble in the States already amongst the muggles in Irish dominated Boston. He snorted as he walked towards the stairs and banished those thoughts and focused on the busy day he had in front of him.
Things were going to change today.
They picked up one of the journalists of International Magical Press, one who had been involved in the secret plan, and who would gain the acclaim of having captured the titanic battle on footage. The man had been sworn to secrecy prior to being told the plan and once he had seen some snippets that Derek shared with him, he all but seemed like he would sell his soul from the way his eyes shone at the prestige he would gain and had sworn another oath to stick the story they had prepped, that he and a few others had found 'trinkets' a few years ago that allowed them to record live images and that he was using it to publish amazing stories.
Derek almost wanted to renege on the deal but he knew he couldn't and that it also was not wise considering the sheer attention this would gain. It would absolve, mostly, Atticus from accusations that he had set this whole thing up if it seemed like it was spontaneous by a nosy and greedy reporter rather than staged.
Of course many people would know of Atticus' links with IMP given the way they had reported the war but that could be dealt with in a carefully managed way.
Higgins left with the live images towards the newspaper headquarters hastily, leaving him and Sandra alone.
When the morning IMP paper arrived, what he thought would happen, had happened.
The world changed, bursting just like a pipe would burst under immense pressure.
Disbelief and shock had been rife in the air, until exultation and intense celebrations had happened all over the country and then, later, around the world as news filtered through to Europe and from MACUSA to the rest of the Americas and from Australia, to the rest of Asia.
It spread like wildfire, the sheer weight of the news had been a shock of the system, all the fighting that was occurring seemed to cease for a few days, both sides unsure where or how to proceed.
News of Grindelwald's intentions for the Magical World had caused an uproar seldom seen, the outrage and disgust had been overwhelming, even by those who remained neutral or had given their silent approval to his cause.
It had shocked the world to see how close they were to falling into Grindelwald's plans, one that would have spilled more blood and caused more deaths a countless times more than what had already been the most devastating war ever.
Atticus Sayre had been hailed as a hero to ungodly proportions and with the images of the terrifying battle the public had been shown, the power and destruction both wizards wielded had been laid bare to the world, it only solidified his position within the minds of magekind.
Atticus' Sayres struggles in the battle had been chronicled in the IMP newspaper and would remain one the greatest selling issue for over eighty years. Hubert Higgins name was forever consigned in the annals of history as the man who wrote the greatest commentary of any event.
ATTICUS SAYRE DEFEATS GRINDELWALD IN GREATEST DUEL EVER WITNESSED!
By: Hubert Higgins
[Moving image of a glowing Atticus Sayre with lightning all around him as Grindelwald is plunged into the earth]
This morning, my dear readers, I bring to you the wonderful news that Atticus Sayre has defeated Dark Lord Grindelwald in what I can describe though never justly, a duel of greatest and of the grandest scale.
[More images of the Battle of Mons]
After news had reached The Knights of Mimpost and the ICW forces that were with them, it became apparent that unless they went and reinforced the Belgian ICW contingent, Belgium would be lost and would deal a harsh blow in the war effort against Grindelwald and his followers.
But that was not all. It became apparent that Grindelwald had another nasty surprise; an army of Vampires attacked the French Ministry leaving Atticus Sayre and his commanders a difficult choice; to defend their allies or to defend the ICW forces in Belgium?
In the end, the forces were split and a smaller group, led by Atticus Sayre went to Belgium, a risky proposition that could have spelled disaster. [For more on the Vampire attack against the French, turn to Pg 7]
Xavier Charleston, the much celebrated Ilvermony Headmaster did what he could against Grindelwald nevertheless in the end perished but his sacrifice had not been in vain as Atticus Sayre managed to arrive just in time before the battle was lost.
And thus, began a battle that ought to be forever remembered as perhaps the greatest duel ever with the power and sheer devastation that it wrought.
And if not for power and magical strength then perhaps it will be remembered as the greatest duel simply for what was at stake.
[Moving images with annotations of Grindelwald's intentions and Lord Sayre's responses]
That's right, dear readers, this was a battle for the very soul of the magical world, its freedom and its survival.
The horror that Grindelwald had put this world through did not even scratch the surface of what he intended, of what he nearly plunged the magical world into; a war of survival against muggles that would leave either us or them alive.
Grindelwald's depravity and madness knew no bounds.
This war will go down as the bloodiest war in the history of the Magical World, one that caused tens of thousands of deaths and has ended many Ancient lines all across Europe.
And it could have turned out to be worse, much much worse.
But, my earnest readers, we had a Champion who stood for us, protecting us against that future.
Against all of that, against that monstrous and evil power and against that depraved mind, stood our hero, the teenage Lord Atticus Sayre.
A great many of you have been reading this paper ever since its first publication and many of you are familiar of the story of Atticus Sayre, Lord of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Sayre.
You may know of his early status as a child prodigy who became a Transfiguration Master at the age of fourteen and obtained three masteries before the age of seventeen.
You may also know of the tragedy that had befallen his family, just as tragedy had befallen a great many families, when his father and kin were assassinated in the most cowardly fashion ever and had ascended to Lord of his House at just seventeen.
And I doubt you would have forgotten his riveting speech before the Wizengamot on the same day as his ascension to those hallowed chambers when he spoke of duty, of the responsibility they all had to the safety of the Wizarding World and the threat that Grindelwald posed to that world, something that has been proven to be dauntingly true.
A seventeen year old took on the mantle of responsibility for the magical people of Britain and the world itself and called his countrymen to arms and brave hundreds of British men and women joined his call to duty, his call to serve and protect the magical world and Lady Magic against the evil of Grindelwald
And by Merlin did Lord Sayre carry out his promise when he defeated Grindelwald.
It is a tale that beggars belief, one that would not be amiss in a children's book about a hero who rose and defeated the wicked man in a battle for good or evil.
However, I would not quantify it as simply as that, dear readers. In my opinion, it was a battle between the Champion of the Magical People and the Enemy of the Magical People for his actions would have obliterated our world and descended us into a war that would have destroyed much of our society and people.
In defeating this man, Lord Sayre has provided a gift to the Magical World that can never be fully repaid…
Hubert Higgins wrote himself into the annals of history, his words seared into the minds of all those who read it, current and future generations alike, and the Wizarding World would never be the same.
-Break-
Spencer-Moon POV
His hands trembled with the IMP paper in his hands. His eyes kept watching the loop of the battle between Grindelwald and Sayre, over and over and over again.
The power and the sheer mastery over magic the pair of them had was obvious to see even in the live images in the paper.
'Merlin, how in all things was he supposed to deal with this' he wondered.
Would it have been too much to ask for both of them to perish?
He shook his head as he set the paper on his desk, his hand grabbing the bridge of his nose in a forced attempt to calm himself. It just after 9am and this was what he was going to be dealing with for the rest of the week. After a few moments he grabbed his wand and signalled his secretary to come in.
"Yes, Minister" she asked respectfully. Her eyes travelled to the paper on the desk and her eyes widened before they flittered over to his before she looked away.
He thinned his lips "Have the DMLE director, the Department of International Relations Director and the Director of the DOM called in for an emergency meeting, now" he said in a stern tone.
She bowed her head hastily "Yes sir" she said a quiet tone before she hastily walked away.
He sighed a few moments after the door was closed. He did not want to be short with her but she just reminded him of how much he lost control over the situation.
Everyone knew now what had occurred in Belgium, the great victory that Atticus Sayre had won, one that would end the war in a way no one truly expected.
An eighteen year old defeated the darkest and most powerful Dark Lord seen in centuries!
"Merlin Almighty" he murmured as he got up of from his chair and walked to his cabinet where his drinks were.
As he drank the glass of Firewhiskey he poured himself, he could not help but think on the consequences of that victory and even then, he could not see the depth of that act onto the political scene.
Atticus Sayre had already been such an immensely popular figure, the quintessential hero that all boys revered and all girls wanted to marry and now, he cemented himself into legend with this single victory.
And Leonard hated the man…the boy for it.
Oh, he was glad the madman was dead, especially after reading the sheer evil the man had planned for their world – and he had signed executive orders that would have aurors stationed by the muggle Prime Minister and his cabinet and the royal family themselves for the sole purpose of preventing any news of Grindelwald's probable involvement creating the German government – but to find out that there was someone who was even more powerful than the Dark Lord that none could rival and was still yet to go through their last maturity?
And someone who was nearly not as…benign as someone like Dumbledore and had someone like Lady Slytherin as his wife to be?
With Dumbledore, no matter how…irritating the man was, he understood what the man was and what he wanted. He could work with that. He was from a lowly family and could be shut out of the upper echelons of the nobility despite his magical power. Politically he could be dealt with.
But Atticus Sayre?
He shook his head.
None should have that kind of power, not least when he was someone who had a voice as powerful and one that carried as much weight as Sayre family did.
The Ministry was a raucous place this morning as the only thing on people's minds – and lips – was the defeat of Grindelwald by one of their own. Excited chattering and celebrations were the norm that morning and more than a few arrests had been made around the country, those who had celebrated too much so much so that they were in breach of the Statute of Secrecy.
Leonard saw the praise of Sayre and heard the blessings that people said in gratitude for ending the war.
It had been one of the greatest chores to smile politely and agree with the sentiment.
An hour later, the well protected conference room reserved for ministerial meetings was filled with the three most important Department heads along with his own aides. The room was deadly silent as they all knew what this meeting was about.
Leonard threw the IMP paper on the desk.
"Is this real?" He asked simply as he stared at Bracker. Bracker met Leonard gaze and nodded slowly and Leonard's eye twitched.
Merlin damn it! He had hoped, however slight, that it might have been faked. Bracker had extinguished that small ember.
"How…" Leonard's calm quiet rage filled voice cut through the room "Is it possible that this was missed?" His eyes were focused on Bracker as he spoke.
"Minister" the Director of International Relations Fleetwood spoke up but Leonard sent him a harsh glare that quieted him down before he turned his eyes at Bracker who met Leonard's eyes impassively.
"It was not missed" Bracker answered after a moment much to raised eyebrows.
"Oh?" Yaxley enthused with curiosity.
Bracker smiled thinly "We have always known the potential of one Atticus Sayre" he shrugged carelessly "It was why we were so…eager to recruit him to our ranks"
"And you didn't see it fit to tell me?" Leonard smacked his fist onto the table causing several people in the room to jump up though Bracker was unaffected.
Had he known of Atticus Sayre's capabilities he would not have been so brazen at trying to mess with that family. He had thought the boy had potential and was a prodigy but never in his wildest dreams did he think he was a merlin damned Arch Mage already. And not just any damn Arch Mage but likely the most powerful one in the world.
"I didn't realise I had to tell you the obvious" Bracker said with even tone though his eyes were hard. "Did you not keep up with the progress of the Knights? The battles they had won, the countries they liberated? The tearing down of Genelum Castle done completely by Atticus Sayre alone?"
Leonard eyes widened but he was beaten to the obvious question by Fleetwood "You meant to say those rumours of him tearing down the castle wards of that fortress was true?!" he asked aghast.
Bracker glanced minutely at Fleetwood "Yes." He answered simply before he returned his gaze to Leonard. "Those rumours are true. We managed to obtain some…evidence from a mixture of sources, from both perspectives"
Leonard narrowed his eyes. That meant he likely had memories of Grindelwald's followers and from the men who had followed Atticus Sayre, at least one from each camp.
He'd have to see it. Later.
"How do we neutralise such a threat" Yaxley spoke up for the first time, asking a question that seemed to breech all kinds of social etiquette, unease settled and it caused the tenseness in the room to rise. It surprised Leonard greatly as it was a severe change in approach to how he had advised Leonard not too long ago on how deal with the Sayres and the Knights.
He could see a troubled look in Yaxley's face as he stared at the images on the front page of IMP.
Was he as troubled as I was? Leonard wondered.
The tenseness was shattered when Bracker laughed derisively.
"You don't" Bracker said amused whilst shaking his head. "At least in the way you're thinking" He said pointedly to Yaxley who narrowed his eyes at Bracker.
"Let's just forget what kind of family he belongs to and the allies and resources that come with it" Bracker said conversationally "And simply focus on the young man's abilities." Bracker leaned forward, his intently focused on Yaxley "This is someone who outduelled the most powerful Dark Wizard or Witch since Morgana herself, someone who is or will be praised and lifted into a legendary status that none have reached since Merlin or the three Peverell Brothers themselves." Bracker's eyes turned hard "Whatever action you're thinking off, don't." The tenseness in the room was thick and two Department heads seemed to be close to war with each other.
How was it possible that even within his Department Heads Sayre could cause him this much trouble?
Before Yaxley could retaliate "Enough!" Leonard said harshly and Yaxley, after a mutinous glare at Bracker, sat back in his chair, his expression returning to neutral.
"Let's table this…topic for another day" Leonard gave Yaxley a meaningful look and he nodded almost imperceptively before Leonard looked around the table.
"Fleetwood, what have you heard from your counterparts?" Leonard asked curtly. The Department of International Relations dealt with their counterparts in other countries in lieu of having Ambassadors. They had a special Floo connection that allowed them to speak to anyone in any country within the ICW.
Fleetwood swallowed for a moment before he cleared his throat "Well, everyone is scrambling" he admitted and Leonard raised an eyebrow in question and Fleetwood continued "Everyone is ecstatic that Grindelwald has been defeated" Leonard resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Fleetwood continued "But there is an undercurrent of concern as no one expected the kind of magic either of them had." He paused for a moment "I mean everyone knew Grindelwald was ridiculously powerful but no one had truly seen him fight and the images of their fight just highlights how close they were to truly falling into Grindelwald's trap" Fleetwood finished.
Leonard leaned back in his chair, contemplating on what he heard with a frown. "And what is their…assessment of Sayre?" Leonard asked carefully.
Fleetwood dabbed his forehead with his handkerchief "Well…" he glanced nervously at Bracker before he returned his gaze to Leonard "They're ecstatic that the young man ended the war and are celebrating like much of the British Magical World"
"But…" Leonard stressed impatiently.
"But I'm hearing whispers that the ICW is calling every member to an emergency meeting" Fleetwood said hurriedly before he breathed out and set himself at ease "They are concerned about the reports they received from the ICW commanders."
Leonard narrowed his eyes at Fleetwood but he raised his arms "I don't know what the reports say, only that it was enough to truly concern them"
Leonard glanced at Bracker in silent question who simply shook his head much to Leonard's annoyance.
"Very well" he said carefully avoiding resignation from coating his voice "You may leave Fleetwood"
Fleetwood eyes widened before he got up and bowed his head to the Minister before leaving the meeting room.
"This changes everything" Leonard began, his hands entwined in front of him "What Sayre has done has thrown all of our projections of this war, at least hasten its end by a year or two."
"You're not wrong about that" Bracker agreed as he tapped his finger on the table "Grindelwald's forces will be in disarray and it will give the ICW, Allies and the resistance fighters the time and reprieve they need to take back control of the countries that had been under Grindelwald's influence."
Leonard nodded "Yes it will but it will also cause chaos in a way that is not controlled" he pursed his lips "This sudden defeat of Grindelwald was one that no one saw coming and I don't think the war will end just as sudden even with Grindelwald dead"
"I wouldn't be so sure of Grindelwald's death" Bracker warned, his tone serious "There is no body and until Sayre admits that he has killed Grindelwald, I would not consider him dead"
Leonard's eyes widened in shock.
"You mean to say that Grindelwald isn't dead?" Yaxley asked sharply.
"I'm saying that it isn't certain he is dead." Bracker clarified "He's been defeated yes and from what we know, the attack should have killed him but from what we have gathered" Leonard narrowed his eyes suspiciously at that.
Did the DOM witness the battle?
"Atticus Sayre did not seem as happy or as victorious as he should have been" Bracker finished.
Leonard shared a look with Yaxley before he returned his gaze at Bracker "Are you looking into it?" Leonard asked with intense eyes.
Bracker inclined his head "We are. With De Galle still on the loose, it is in all of our interests to ensure Grindelwald isn't allowed to recover should he live"
Leonard resisted the urge to swallow.
Merlin…if anyone could manage it that wasn't the DOM, it would be him, the potions expert, spell crafter and Dark Arts specialist.
"If you need any more resources, take what you need" He turned to Yaxley "Work with Bracker in whatever capacity needed" Yaxley looked unhappy but nodded.
No doubt he understood the value of being the ones to truly end Grindelwald's reign. It would allow them to undermine Sayre if they got to Grindelwald first. If he lived.
"As you wish" Bracker said calmly with knowing eyes. "Just so you know…Sayre is no longer in Belgium.
Leonard's eyes widened before he learned forward with a harsh glare "And where is he?"
Bracker grimaced slightly "We don't know. He…flew away"
Leonard narrowed his eyes "Flew away?" he parroted harshly. "Why didn't you have someone follow him on a broom?"
Bracker grimaced even more "He didn't fly away on a broom"
Leonard frowned "He had a Carpet?"
Bracker smiled thinly "He had nothing aiding him to fly, at least as far as we could tell."
Leonard's eyes grew to wide proportions before he let off a disbelieving laugh. "Of course he did" Leonard said tiredly.
After all, the young Lord was a damn Arch Mage, likely the most powerful in the world. Why would he not be able of unaided flight.
Merlin, why him?
He shook his head and waved them both off before he returned to his reports, intent on focusing on something else, however difficult it may be.
Just after midday, as he was reading a report on the merits of classifying a newly created potion as a restricted item, he was interrupted.
"Minister, Lord Black and Lord Malfoy are here to see you" his secretary told him.
"Send them in" he said with a nod, his expression neutral.
Lords Black and Malfoy walked into the room and Leonard felt a rising feeling of trepidation in his gut.
No good could come from both of them coming to see him.
He stood up and nodded to both of them. The Minister held an equal rank of position in their custom and he did not need to bow to either of them. "Lord Black, Lord Malfoy" he intoned politely and gestured towards the empty seats before his desk.
"Minister" Lord Black said calmly, his rich gruff voice had a deep bass to it.
"Minister" Lord Malfoy's voice on the other hand was smooth and cultured.
They took their seats and Leonard watched them with a neutral expression as he leaned back in his seat.
"Any drinks?" Leonard offered after a few seconds once they were seated.
"No." Lord Black answered in a sharp tone "We won't be staying long" he said with no levity in his tone at all.
"I see" he said after a moment "So what can I do to help" he entwined his hands as he settled them in front of him.
"No doubt you are aware of the…change in the war this defeat of Grindelwald has brought" Lord Malfoy's smooth voice cut in, his thin smile adorning his pale flawless face.
"Yes." Leonard said evenly.
"The defeat of Grindelwald presents a never clearer opportunity for Britain to join the war with as little retribution possible from the remnants of Grindelwald's forces given how…busy they will be in picking up the shattered pieces of Grindelwald's conquest" Lord Malfoy's eyes shone with calculation as Leonard stared at the man.
Why were they interested in joining the war now? Neither of them had cared to drum up support before.
"And what purpose would our…late entry in the war serve?" Leonard posed to them, intent on getting to the heart of their reasoning.
Lord Malfoy smile was one that was far from kind "The purpose of our entry would merely be one that shed the current image of our country on the international stage…one that is far from flattering." Malfoy lips thinned out into a fine line.
Leonard frowned. What did they care about how they looked on the international stage?
Leonard shook his head "I must refuse" he said in a stern tone as his eyes met Lord Malfoy's eyes that turned into ice before he flickered them to Lord Black who stared at Leonard with an impassive look.
"As it is now, there is little to be done but to mop up the remaining followers of Grindelwald." Leonard shook his head. He would not waste his resources when there was a potential greater.
"You make it seem as you have the option to refuse" Lord Black spoke up, an amused hint in his tone.
Leonard narrowed his eyes "I am the minister" Leonard said with a warning tone "Do not presume you can command me"
Lord Black's smile turned malicious as he moved his hand into his robe and Leonard was but a moment away from pressing the emergency alarm that would flood the room with aurors.
"Do not switch on that annoying alarm, I doubt you would want them to see this" Malfoy said in a smug tone.
The hand that had dug into Lord Black's robes brought out a stack of parchments in a folder and Lord Black threw on the desk, his eyes fixed on Leonard as that malicious smile fell off and a cool expression replaced it.
Leonard swallowed.
The Blacks were infamous for information gathering. It was why they had ruled the political elite for centuries.
Malfoy leaned forward and opened up the folder and Leonard closed his eyes in defeat.
Of course they would have that.
"Unless you wish your Ministership suddenly end, you will be…agreeable to our cause, no?" the smile in Malfoy's voice could be practically heard.
Leonard reopened his eyes and stared Malfoy in anger. He knew they were not friends, not even allies but he had thought he would not blindside him like this.
With Lord Black beside him, nothing he could do, not even attempting to out the various things he had on Malfoy would be able to destroy Malfoy if Lord Black wanted to protect him.
And Malfoy would not do this if it meant that Lord Black would protect Malfoy.
"Fine." Leonard said resigned and a glint of victory entered Lord Black's eyes even as his cool expression remained fixed on his face
"What do you want" Leonard bit out.
"No…Minister" Lord Black stated with a smile.
"What we want" Lord Black took pleasure in reminding Leonard of his situation "Is this"
A map was thrown on the table and Leonard stared at it with a frown. "You want to liberate Norway?" he asked with trepidation. This was far more than he had expected of them.
"Eventually" Lord Black allowed "But the first target is Durmstrang" Lord Black's eyes shone and Lord smiled thinly at Leonard.
"After Durmstrang, it will be all of Scandinavia" Lord Malfoy added.
Leonard shook his head "It would require an official declaration of war, something I cannot do without the permission of the Wizengamot" he hoped that they would not know of the other way.
"Not unless you declared a state of emergency, granting yourself emergency powers to act in a limited way" Lord Malfoy's smile was shark like.
Leonard wanted to bury his head in his hands. "Why?" Leonard asked with as much evenness as he could "Why do this now? I don't believe your talk about opportunity and international image"
"That is none of your concern" Lord Black rose from his seat, a harsh look was fixed on Leonard "What is your concern is that you assign several hundred hit wizards and Aurors to the task group I am creating" Lord Black flicked his wand and a number of pictures and documents flew into the air and floated around, his shame and corruption for all to see.
"Else you will be cast down from your position, your reputation and those of your children and family will forever be in ruins" Lord Malfoy said with a sadistic tone, none of the cultured smooth voice he was known for was present.
Leonard nodded tightly "I…I understand" he said with much force as he clenched his fists under the table.
"Good" Lord Black said as he made to leave.
"Wait" Leonard growled out and Lord Black turned around with an annoyed look on his face.
"What is to prevent you from sharing…that once we are done?" Leonard asked with as much control he could manage.
"Nothing" Lord Black said easily. "And that is why you will do as we say, when we say." Lord Black swivelled back to Leonard, his cold grey eyes staring at Leonard "There will be no oaths, no contracts that will ever give you even the slightest veneer of protection against us publishing this anyway…no…the destiny of your fate is all dependent on my goodwill" Lord Black smiled thinly as he placed his hands on the table, his face leaning forward. "It would be easy to simply install another puppet in your office, someone who would be more likely to cooperate after witnessing what has happened to you" Lord Black smiled darkly as his eyes grew as cold as ice.
"Do we understand each other?" Lord Black said with a soft velvety tone.
Leonard closed his eyes for a brief moment. He had thought maybe he could force some kind of agreement out of Black.
He reopened them "We do…" Leonard said with resignation.
Lord Black said nothing after a moment as he seemed to search Leonard's face for something before he nodded in approval and walked away. He walked out of the office leaving himself and Malfoy for a moment.
Malfoy stared at him for a moment "It's nothing personal" he gave a slimy, oily smile "I think you understand, no?" Malfoy said in an amused tone before he shook his head and left when Leonard said nothing.
His secretary walked in but he hardly noticed.
"Sir are you alright?" His secretary asked in a concerned moment after getting no response from him.
"Sir, are y-"
"LEAVE!" Leonard bellowed as he rose to his feet, startling and frightening his secretary, a furious expression on his face as he breathed heavily.
She widened her eyes before she hastily left the office, locking it behind her.
He dropped back in his chair and cradled his head in his hands.
All of his life's work…
All of it so close to being unravelled…undone.
Leonard was not a saint, far from it. But he had thought himself to be a good man. Should that information be leaked, the taint on his family would remain for centuries.
He did not know how long he stayed like that but the door to his office opened and he sent a resentful glare at whoever dared to interrupt him from his thoughts.
He saw Yaxley barging in with a few aurors and for a moment his heart stilled. Did Lord Black go back on his word already?
Fear crept up in his soul.
"What is it?" He asked sternly, hoping that the small tremble in his voice was unheard.
Yaxley gave him an odd look but did comment on it "Minister there was an attack in Hogwarts."
Leonard's eyes widened in shock.
"What?" He said as he rose from his seat and made his way around his desk. "Was it remnants from Grindelwald's followers?" he hastily asked, the urgency clear in his voice.
Yaxley shook his head "No Minister. It was not Grindelwald's followers. It was Dumbledore"
Leonard stumbled in his step and stared at Yaxley with disbelieving eyes "What?!"
Yaxley smiled grimly "It seemed that Dumbledore did not take so kindly to Grindelwald being defeated by Atticus Sayre and took it out on Lady Slytherin."
Leonard couldn't help but laugh. If he did not, he would truly begin to weep for this day seemed to keep on giving.
He received odd looks from the aurors. "Tell me everything" he said in a demanding tone as his near hysterical laughter petered out.
