Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Harry Potter
September 14th, 2017
A Portkey dropped Harry and a squad of British Aurors at the Mountains of the Moon, in western Uganda, just as the sun set. They were men and women Harry had worked alongside for years, trusted combatants, keen investigators, witches and wizards ready for anything. Anything, except what they found at the Uagadou School.
It was gone. A school, whose pedigree and size rivaled Hogwarts, was gone. And in its place, was left hell.
Buildings that had withstood the tests of time, armies and the rise and fall of nations had been blasted apart, torn down and scattered across the land. Ward stones that had once protected these grounds were ripped from the earth and smashed to pieces, no longer providing any protection. But worse of all were the remains of the once inhabitants.
Professors, masters of their fields, had been ripped to shreds, little more than meat and bones lying in puddles of blood. The students lay on the ground, unnaturally still save for the gentle rise of their hearts. Harry stepped toward one young woman, who couldn't have been older than his son James and was horrified to see a vacant stare looking back at him. Instantly, Harry knew what had done this.
"Dementors!" Harry cried, immediately casting his Patronus. Prongs burst into being, throwing his antlers, ready to charge any threat. The Aurors with Harry followed his example, summoning their Patroni. With their light illuminating the scene, the sheer horror each man and woman felt intensified, building as a dread-filled pit in their stomach.
There were no Dementors to be seen, but Harry and the Aurors did not relax. Footsteps approached from behind, and they whirled around to face the threat, only to avert their wands when they recognized the man leading the group toward them. After all, Nicolas Flamel was their new High Chancellor.
"Should you be here, Nicolas?" Harry asked. His Aurors parted to allow Nicolas closer.
"Headmaster Uunta was my friend. I've been coming here for years, I even studied here under an alias, but this..." Nicolas trailed off.
"Bloody werewolves," one of the Aurors spat. There were murmurs of agreement.
"Fan out, search for survivors," Harry ordered. "Start Portkeying the children to hospitals, and get the locals to start identifying them. We need to inform their families."
The gathered witches and wizards nodded and did as bidden, leaving Harry and Nicolas alone. Nicolas took the lead, gesturing for Harry to follow him back the way he came.
"This is a travesty, Harry. This should not occur in the sane, reasonable world we live in. These were children, innocents! What justification could anyone have for ending their lives?" Nicolas asked as they carefully stepped their way across the land. Prongs followed behind them, trying to chase away the foul emotions that Harry felt.
Harry was thinking of his children, and how he'd feel if an Auror knocked on his door, telling him they were dead. There was no justice for this act, no explanation. This was the work of someone who only wanted people to suffer. He said as much to Nicolas, who nodded.
"Aye. And he was arrogant enough to leave a calling card," Nicolas said, gesturing to the tree they were walking to.
It was difficult to see at first, but as Prongs' light illuminated the area, Harry could see what Nicolas meant. Uunta Banoo, Headmaster of Uagadou, and a man Harry knew to be a formidable wizard was crucified on the tree. His body was nearly unrecognizable with how many chunks of flesh had been torn from it, and a message had been carved onto his chest: A crescent moon.
"Mikael," Harry commented unnecessarily. They couldn't even close Uunta's eyes out of respect as they had been torn out. "He's not waiting around, is he?"
"No, he is not," Nicolas said. Harry noted the loss and despair in Nicolas' voice and clapped him on the shoulder. He gently tugged Nicolas away from his friend.
An Auror walked up, and not one Harry recognized. "Sirs. My men have scoured the area, and we can't find a trace of the Dementors, or werewolves, anywhere. They're gone," she said with a Parisian accent.
"Thank you, Denise. I need you to go to General Chang. Tell him to forget the reorganization of Aurors. I want him to start from scratch to combat this threat. I'm authorizing the War Camp."
"Yes, sir!" Denise said, before Apparating away.
"War Camp?" Harry asked, alarmed. Nicolas nodded.
"I didn't think it necessary when General Chang presented me with the idea, but now I think it would be a wise decision that we have an army to combat threats like Mikael."
"An army! Isn't that a bit drastic?" Harry asked. "We already have Aurors and Hit Wizards, I would think an army would be overkill!"
Nicolas shook his head. "Harry, I respect you as a wizard and as a friend but don't be a naive fool. This isn't the action of a dark wizard, but a dark lord! Voldemort almost did this to Hogwarts, and it took you, on two separate occasions, to put an end to him! I do not want our world to descend into another Voldemort scenario, and to do that, we need to combat Mikael. We need an army."
Harry's gut twisted uncomfortably. "It just feels wrong. We should be able to do more."
"We are doing more. The army won't be used for policing actions; we'll keep the Aurors for that. But this," Nicolas gestured to the destroyed school all around them, "is not something we can just accept. Blasted Dementors."
"Yeah, I hate them too," Harry said, rubbing his scar. A different kind of pain lingered there now, caused by stress.
"I don't hate them. I'm disgusted by them! Did you ever wonder how Dementors came to be?" Nicolas asked.
Harry thought about it for only a moment. "No. I stopped researching once I found out that there wasn't a known way to destroy them. I think we settled for trapping the Dementors in Azkaban inside the walls. Why?"
Nicolas gave a mirthless laugh. "Oh, there are ways to kill them. You can let them gorge themselves to death, for example. The happy memories they feast off of are like fast food to them. Tasty yes, but slowly killing them from the inside. Eventually, they pop." Nicolas popped his lips for emphasis.
"But when I was a younger, less wise, man, I found myself studying them. I was curious you see why they had such a desire for our souls, so much that they feasted on them. But Charlotte, a colleague of mine, and I discovered that our magic is not just a part of our souls, but it is our soul. The Dementors aren't just feasting off what keeps us, us. They're feasting off magic."
Harry felt his skin crawl. "But, they'll also attack Muggles!"
"Every living creature has a soul, Harry. Muggles have a small one in comparison to us, not even a mouthful, but if a Dementor feeds on enough, why would it care? Food is food to them. But the second way to kill Dementors, did you know they are drawn to powerful wizards?" Nicolas asked.
Harry flinched. "That seems to be consistent with my interactions with them," he said, causing Nicolas to nod.
"Dementors thrive off magic, but they can recognize kindred. A particularly powerful wizard who has suffered, for example, would be able to command them. Well, perhaps command is too strong a word, but the Dementors will be more inclined to listen to these wizards than not. Which leads to their downfall."
"It's how my friend and I studied them. She had a particularly tragic life, but it granted her great fortitude. We came across the Dementors, and they were receptive to her questions, but not mine. I guess I hadn't lived a tragic enough life for them."
"But these witches and wizards that Dementors converse with are not ordinarily mortals, by any standard. Dark can cut Light, Light can cut Dark, but do you know what happens when Dark cuts Dark, Harry?"
"No," Harry whispered, well aware that they were talking about a deeper meaning of magic than anything he learned at Hogwarts.
Nicolas nodded, unsurprised by his ignorance. "It becomes a battle of wills. Pushing hatred, fear, and darkness against one another. It's their Aura, Harry. We can feel a Dementor's Aura pressing down on us, but those who suffer every day can resist it. And they can push back. They can push back so much that the Dementor's own Aura consumes it."
Nicolas sighed. "From what my colleague, Charolette, told me, it was like waking up on a frozen winter's morning, and stretching, breaking the ice off your limbs. Dark lords throughout history have used it to gain compliance from the creatures. Even Dementors can feel fear, it seems. It's a shame it became Charolette's undoing."
"What happened to her?" Harry asked warily. Nicolas gave a sad, soft smile.
"If you can control the very demons of hell, what would you use them for? They are beings only meant to cause suffering, they are an aberration on the world," Nicolas sighed.
"Today, the world knows my colleague as the Dark Lady Char." Nicolas laughed sadly, full of pain. "It's a tragic thing, really. How easily good wizards go bad."
And as Harry looked at the broken school all around them, he couldn't help but agree.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Daphne Greengrass
September 25th, 2017
As the days passed by, Daphne was pleased to see her sister Astoria fiddling with the coin more every day. She would still struggle with it, sometimes throwing it away in a huff, but Daphne could see how a sliver of curiosity had been awoken in Astoria. It boded well.
The most interesting thing to happen to Daphne during this time was when Draco pulled her aside a few days after Potter had left. It seemed he had enough of her secrecy.
"Why?" he asked one afternoon. They were sitting in the garden, and a short distance away, Astoria lay on a blanket, poking her Riddle Coin with her wand.
"Why what?" Daphne asked. She fixed calm eyes on Draco and was surprised to see a bit of steel in his eyes.
"Why do you want Astoria to solve that coin so badly?" He held up a hand to hold off her immediate response. "You claim to want to cure her of the Blood Curse, and I believe you. But you've not been back a month, and you bring it up in every conversation. What deadline are you under?"
Daphne settled back in her seat and sipped her tea. "Can't I be concerned for my sister's health?"
He also leaned back, snapping his fingers. A House-elf obediently refilled his glass of Firewhisky. Draco took a sip before speaking. "I don't doubt you are. But you had years to approach her, and I don't believe for a second that the cure was a recent discovery. Which tells me something happened recently, or is going to happen soon, and you want Astoria out of harm's way."
Daphne couldn't help the impressed smile that crossed her face. "You're far more perceptive than you used to be."
"Some of us had to stick around, Greengrass. When Astoria fell ill, I had to step forward. Sure, I could have hired Healers and caretakers to handle all her needs, but that isn't what a husband does. So I didn't. Astoria's life has not been easy, and I will not see you adding to her troubles," Draco said in warning.
Daphne couldn't help the flare of offense and anger that burned in her chest. But she let it cool a moment later. Draco, for all his faults, had done what a good husband was supposed to do. The question was, did he do it out of love, or out of a need to maintain appearances?
A casual flick of her wand cast a Privacy Charm around them, preventing Astoria from listening. "Do you think you're worthy of my sister's love, Draco?" she asked.
"A bit late to give me the older sibling threat, don't you think?" he drawled.
"You never stop being an older sister."
"And I'm not going to stop being her husband just because it inconveniences you."
The two Slytherins were silent as they eyed one another. Draco's jaw was tight as he tried to stare Daphne down, trying to reinforce the image that he was strong and unshakeable. But Daphne had stared down far more dangerous beings than Draco Malfoy and felt no pressure to break first.
Draco actually rolled his eyes at her. "You would think we're back at Hogwarts," he said, sipping his Firewhisky.
"I don't recall alcohol being part of our school's curriculum," Daphne teased, sipping her tea. Draco smirked.
"Maybe not in the Girl's Dorm. Warrington was a pretty reliable supplier until he graduated."
"Didn't he graduate in our fourth year?"
"Your point?"
"No point, just admiring how your alcoholism started young," Daphne said. Draco didn't rise to her insult.
"I don't deserve your sister's love," he said. Daphne listened attentively. "She's the most remarkable witch I know, and every day I wake up beside her, I feel blessed. I have no idea what she sees in me, but one day, I hope I can live up to it."
Daphne was silent as she considered Draco Malfoy thoroughly, for the first time since she had returned. And what she saw surprised her.
Draco was still arrogant; Daphne hadn't been gone long enough for that to change. He took pride in his name, his family's wealth, his legacy. But he looked at Astoria like a dying man staring at a lifeline, yet holding himself back from taking it lest he destroys it. Daphne was surprised to realize it, but Draco loved Astoria.
"I never cared for you," Daphne said bluntly. "You are every stereotype that people use to describe Pure-bloods. You are part of the reason why Pure-bloods are spoken with contempt these days. But I do believe that you truly love my sister, which is why I will tell you this:
"Something big is coming, and I want my sister safe when it arrives. The safest place, in the entire world, is the place I've just left. As for not healing Astoria's Blood Curse, pushing her to solve the Riddle Coin? There are too many secrets tied to it, too many people at risk. As much as I wish otherwise, I cannot sacrifice the safety of them, and the world, for my sister. I just can't. And when she finds out why and hates me for it, I will learn to live with that."
Draco was silent as he considered her words. "I guess I was wrong," he said.
"About what?"
"About you not being cruel. But you're cruel out of love. I wonder if that makes all the difference?" Draco asked. He shook his head. "I've noticed you only ever speak of Astoria, and occasionally Scorpius when you speak of this place of safety. Am I not invited?"
Daphne eyed him, trying to figure out if he was angry, upset, or merely curious. "You fail a vital entry requirement," she finally said.
Draco leaned further back in his seat as he contemplated that. "I still have a Riddle Coin, despite that failure. It can't be because I'm a Pure-blood, or a Slytherin, as you and Astoria are both and still qualify. Which means," he trailed off, looking at his left arm. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark, faded and scar-like, but still identifiable. "Ah."
"Your membership into Voldemort's ranks would bar you by default," Daphne explained, not at all apologetic.
"So it doesn't matter to whoever your saviors are that I was forced into it, pressured by my father, brainwashed since birth?" Draco asked, anger coloring his tone.
Daphne looked at how angry Draco was, how his face pinched, how he squirmed angrily in his seat as if he wanted to act but could do nothing. He visibly wanted to rage but had no outlet. So Daphne decided to take a chance.
"Would you give up everything for Astoria?" she asked. Draco's gaze snapped to her. "Your family name, your birthright, your wealth, your magic? Everything, Draco, everything that makes you, you."
Draco was silent as he considered that, turning his gaze to Astoria. She had flipped onto her back at some point, holding the Riddle Coin up to the setting sun. It suddenly glowed, and the runes on the surface flared before changing, causing Astoria to giggle excitedly. She turned to grin at Daphne and Draco, waving her coin as her mouth moved with unheard words, before returning her attention back to the coin and its mysteries.
A stray ray of light hit Astoria's blond hair, and it almost looked like a halo around her head. "For her and Scorpius, I would give up anything," Draco softly murmured, his eyes never leaving Astoria. And then he stood, dispelling Daphne's charm, and walked over to his wife, joining her on the blanket.
Daphne watched them with calculating eyes, weighing the odds of the possibility of Draco faking against him actually loving Astoria. Watching as the pair curled up on one another, Daphne made her decision and pulled a small mirror from her pouch.
Unseen by Draco and Astoria, Daphne pushed a finger to her temple. She pulled it away slowly, a string of glimmery memory connected to it. It detached, and Daphne placed the memory of the conversation she just had with Draco on the mirror's surface, causing it to glow a light blue as it absorbed it. The mirror's surface flashed before returning to normal, and Daphne put it away.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Alexander Dantes
Fourteen Years Ago
Cape Horn had changed.
Dozens of homes had been constructed out of stone and wood, and more were being built every week. Underneath them, a dense network of caves and caverns had been carved out, to be used for storage, refining, and construction purposes. Enchanted golems worked at all hours of the day, a constant stream of rock coming in and carved stones going out. They had expanded so much that Alexander and Daphne were already looking at the rest of the Tierra del Fuego archipelago for further expansion.
The reason why was simple: Hundreds of witches and wizards now called the island home, with more arriving every week. Each believed strongly in Alexander's vision of a safe place, far from the troubles of the world, and those who did not were quickly removed and Obliviated. They had no place in this haven.
For those that agreed with his vision, Alexander offered the opportunity to learn wandless magic, and not one passed up the chance once they saw the feats being accomplished around them. Once a week, with the latest arrivals, Alexander would gather and help guide them.
It was different for everyone. Some needed to grapple with their emotions, forcing them into tiny imaginary boxes in order to achieve it. Others needed the opposite, to freely feel and release them in order to let their magic go. The truly difficult ones were those who were in between the two extremes, often needing to go from one extreme to the other at the drop of a hat.
But slowly they learned, and it was not uncommon to see someone forgo their wand to cast spells. Some still used them out of habit, but they reveled in their new ability, having mock fights and prank wars with one another to blow off steam. Alexander only encouraged it, and combined with his willingness to teach a skill long considered the height of magical ability, he quickly gained new supporters among the arrivals.
Unknown to them, his reasons were far from altruistic. The few months he spent guerrilla fighting Voldemort's Death Eaters and Snatchers had taught Alexander of the value of a group of highly trained soldiers, but also the advantage of an army. They may not fight and die for him now, but Alexander could be patient. He had all the time in the world.
Slowly a small community developed. A few witches and wizards from America eagerly claimed responsibility for growing food, using magic to quicken the crop's growth. A wizard from Japan and a witch from Germany enchanted nets to catch fish to supplement their diets, and quickly found themselves leading a dozen others every morning on fishing trips.
But the bulk of everyone's focus was on building the Acropolis. Several hundred witches and wizards worked alongside thousands of golems, diving deep beneath the ocean's surface with the use of charms and Gillyweed, mining sedimentary rock, and pulling it to the surface. From there, it was shaped in the caverns underneath Cape Horn, before being dragged by golems to the ocean outside, and pushed into place.
The original pillar that Alexander had made had been duplicated dozens of times over, extending far out into the ocean to form a massive ring. A second ring was currently in the process of being constructed within, with a third planned between them both. These would be the literal roots of the Acropolis, holding up the mountain above.
Every person Alexander explained the layout of the Acropolis to called him a madman, declaring that it couldn't be done. He would merely remind them that between magic and themselves, they had everything they needed to accomplish their goal, that it would just take time and effort. They'd shake their heads but obey, willing to indulge him and his vision. After all, he had already done the impossible, why would reality stop him now?
Alexander did have to explain to the new arrivals why they were not to use Expansion or Duplication Charms on their building material. He told them how it would cause the whole structure to collapse when they eventually transmuted the Acropolis, destroying all of their hard work. Despite how unpopular it was, Alexander insisted on three different wizards checking each stone before it was placed.
The prospective Transmutation became a subject of much debate among the magicals at Cape Horn. They already knew Alexander had some skill in it as the Riddle Coins were no earthly metal, despite their golden sheen. After many requests, Alexander explained what he intended to do more clearly.
"Transmutation is very different from Transfiguration," Alexander explained one evening. "A Transfiguration will eventually fail, or wear off, returning to its original form. The only way to maintain a Transfiguration is to constantly supply it magic, which is a costly endeavor at the best of times."
Alexander looked around the bonfire, where hundreds were gathered listening. He had no doubt those working on the Acropolis below would hear of his lecture once it was over. He continued.
"Transmutation is turning one element into another. If you wanted to be picky, it'd be closer to Chemistry than any magical discipline," Alexander explained. A waving hand caught his eye. Amused, he nodded to the witch.
"What about Conjuration? Aren't we turning air into whatever we're conjuring?" she asked.
Alexander nodded. "You are. But it's still considered a Transfiguration because eventually the magic will run out and the item you conjured will disappear. A Transmutation will never revert from lack of magic as it doesn't require magic to exist."
Alexander summoned a pile of rocks closer and began to Transfigure them. "Now, if you Transmute a Transfigured object, it won't revert, but it will require significantly more magic to do so. The number and size of the objects also matter. Watch closely."
Alexander took the pile of stone blocks he had and carefully stacked them into a rough-looking house. He then placed his hand on it, closing his eyes to focus, and pushing his magic into the stones. Under his direction, the rocks began to glow, and dust blew off them, before the entire structure flashed, changing into diamond. The watching magicals clapped, impressed.
"Note how the entire structure is now solid, and in one piece?" Alexander asked, picking it up and handing it off to the crowd. They began to test his claims. "This is because I Transmuted the entire object at once, with the intention of it becoming one. But what about building with Transmuted materials?"
Alexander quickly made a second pile of rocks, but these he Transmuted into diamonds first. He then stacked them in the same manner of house and held it up for everyone to see. It flashed in his hands, much dimmer than his first construction, as it became one piece. "You might have noticed the dimmer flash. That's because, well..."
He dropped the second diamond house onto the ground, and it shattered into dozens of pieces, far more than the original number. "Even though they looked the same and were built from the same material, the second was vastly weaker. This is why we aren't building with Transmuted stone, it's weaker overall, and the whole point of the Acropolis is to protect us. Can't do that if it's broken."
"What about the Transfigured materials?" a man called out. "And why can't we use expanded or duplicated materials?"
Alexander grinned. "Transfigured materials require more power to Transmute safely. It's more cost-effective in the long run to just do it the old-fashioned way. And if you try to Transmute expanded and duplicated materials, it also tries to Transmute the magic that makes up them. Unlike Transfigured items, there is little to no physical structure for the Transmutation to target, which causes the two pieces of magic to react quite badly with one another."
To demonstrate, Alexander Summoned three stones to his hand. The first he Transfigured into a sphere, Transmuting it to rubber and tossing it into the crowd. The second he expanded, before attempting to Transmute it into iron. Great chunks of the rock vanished in a swirl like pattern, revealing how the stone had been stretched magically. The last he duplicated with a simple Gemino Spell.
"The original," Alexander said, holding it up. He Transmuted it to iron a moment later. He then held up the conjured copy and attempted to Transmute it, causing it to vanish.
"Where did it go?" someone asked.
"Nowhere. It's gone, vanished," Alexander explained. "The Transmutation breaks the spell holding the conjured copy in place. When the Acropolis is completed, and I Transmute it, if any stones are Conjured, they'll vanish, destabilizing the entire structure." He waved his empty hand for emphasis before levitating the stone that had been expanded.
"Same with expanded objects. Imagine if a support pillar was made of these, they might hold, but I sincerely doubt it. So rather than risk it, I'm choosing to take the safe route of doing things the harder way. Any other questions?" Alexander asked.
There were, in fact, many questions, and most of them were directed at the possibility of learning Transmutation from him. Alexander quickly reminded them that the information could be found on the stone tablets they had all been gifted. Warning them to be careful and not to carve and runes or cast any spells on anything important, Alexander left the group, moving to his home.
As Alexander sat on the edge of his balcony, overlooking the construction efforts below, he couldn't help smiling. Every day was exhausting, some new disaster or problem rearing its head, but Alexander wouldn't change a single thing. He was happy, if a bit tired, and even still, he could explore the mysteries of the universe at his leisure.
Alexander had just turned his attention to the stars when he heard a pop from behind him. Turning, Alexander was pleased to see Devin leading a group of men and women toward him, and rose to meet them.
"It's good to see you all in one piece," Alexander said, shaking hands and clapping shoulders in welcome. The group greeted him back warmly. "I take it you're finished, Devin?"
"Yeah," Devin said with a nod before glancing at everyone. "You guys can leave your tablets with me; I'll meet up with you in a bit."
The group looked toward Alexander for permission, and he nodded approvingly at them. They moved to a nearby table, pulling out dozens of stone tablets from their pouches and bags, and organizing them in neat piles. They waved at the two men in farewell and moved to the bonfire that roared in the distance.
"What's wrong?" Alexander asked, already moving to the table. Some thoughtful person had labeled each pile of tablets. He walked around the table, reading their names. "Beauxbatons, Castelobruxo, Durmstrang, Ilvermorny...
"We got them all," Devin said, moving to the end of the table. He tapped the final stack of tablets. "But, you should check this one first."
Alexander joined him and read the label. "Why Uagadou?" he asked. This pile had noticeably more tablets than the others.
Devin's face twisted unpleasantly. "When you told me that you had copied the Hogwart's Library, I thought you were insane. When you asked me and the others to copy the libraries of the other schools, it only confirmed it. But it wasn't until we got to Uagadou that I realized how wrong I was."
Alexander turned away from the tablets to focus on David. "Take your time," Alexander said, letting the younger man gather his thoughts. Devin took a few breaths to center himself before continuing.
"It all started with Cindy, you know, the Curse Breaker? Most of the schools had pretty impressive wards, but they're mainly geared toward repelling offensive threats. Durmstrang's wards gave us a lot of trouble until she figured out we could gain entry by repeating their initiation ritual, which involves spilling blood on this rock in a forest." Devin shook his head in disbelief.
"You might have just pledged loyalty to Durmstrang for life," Alexander joked. Devin flipped him off.
"Anyway, we thought that would be the worst one, but then we got to Africa. Adam and Timmy tried to help Cindy by trying to hold the wards at bay so she could see their full coverage, but were almost turned into Inferi!" Devin explained. Alexander raised a surprised eyebrow and casually weaved a Privacy Charm around them.
"Go on," Alexander encouraged. Devin took another deep breath.
"We were stumped on those wards for a week, and Cindy was trying more and more ridiculous things to try to get past them when she brought up this thing called a Rorschach's Befuddlement." Devin paused to see if Alexander knew what that was.
Alexander nodded. "I'm familiar with it." Devin stared at him. "What?"
"In what sane world is stripping naked and wearing a lapel pin able to get you past murder wards?" Devin demanded. Alexander shrugged, causing him to roll his eyes. "Right, magic. Anyway, once she finally convinced us she was serious and got us past the wards, we redressed and started our usual tasks. Copying and stealing all the magical information we could find.
Devin tapped three tablets. "These are from the two student libraries and the private teacher one we found in their staff room. Most of them are run of the mill, but there are a lot of Transfiguration texts in there that we didn't find anywhere else in the world."
He tapped another tablet. "This was from the headmaster's office. We stole some of his hair and used Polyjuice to get in as he used a portrait to guard it. Some interesting personal accounts, but nothing mindblowing."
And then he pointed at three tablets that were off to the side. "Those three are what horrifies me. Underneath the school, we found this massive ritual room, and fresh blood stained the floor. One of those tablets is filled with necromantic texts, another is filled with magics that deal with the blood and rituals, but the third is the worst. They had shelves of books dealing with soul magic."
Alexander eyed those three texts carefully. "You didn't go through any of them?" he asked.
"Hell no. Well, not on purpose. One of the books on soul magic flipped open when I was grabbing it, and the drawing it showed had a little girl's soul being ripped from her body. Alex, I don't think anyone should ever access these texts," Devin said in concern.
"Fear not, Devin. I agree. I'm not reckless after all," Alexander said. "Were those the only troubling moments you had?"
"Yeah, well, other than a few people getting too excited about being naked. We banished Leslie into the lake to cool off, though," Devin said with a grin. Alexander winked at him.
"So that's who was eyeballing you as she walked away," he mused, taking down the privacy ward. He began to collect the tablets.
"No, she wasn't," Devin said, throwing a glance at the distant bonfire. "Was she?"
"Well, you won't find out over here," Alexander said. "Go get her tiger. And tell everyone thanks for me, yeah? These texts will help educate our children for generations to come."
"No problem, Alex. Just please be careful about those Uagaduo texts. That entire place gave me a bad vibe," Devin said, already walking away. Alexander waved him off.
Alexander eyed the last three tablets on the table, the ones that had Devin the most cautious. With a slight grin, he picked them up.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
AN: A "Rorschach's Befuddlement" is a reference to a story by written by Rorschach's Blot called Larceny, Lechery, and Luna Lovegood!. It's based off one of the more amusing scenes in the story, but isn't actually named in the story. Still an amusing read.
Acropolis: Basically it's an elevated area that's been fortified. The Acropolis of Athens is the most famous example, although it's been badly damaged over the years. As for why I chose it, well. You'll see in the very last chapter.
Uagadou's destruction: Mikael did it and he used Dementors. The question is why...
Nicolas Flamel: In this chapter I wanted to show how intelligent he is, while also showing off the Dementors a little. If you read the first story Alexander Dantes, then you might have connected the Dark Lady Char with the unnamed dark witch who wrote a book teaching Alexander about magic resting within the soul. They're the same person.
War Camp: Just a fun name for a magical military base, first of its kind.
Draco: Yes, he actually loves Astoria, to the point where he'd be willing to give up everything for her. It does seem weird to read, but I'm basing this more off of human psychology. If you're dating/married to someone who is constantly ill, there are usually two reasons for it: You want their wealth when they die, or you actually love them. Draco already has wealth, power, etc, and while he could want more, I do think he's seen what ambition does to people (Voldemort and his father). So I think it'd be entirely reasonable for him to chose love. I know I would.
Time: I don't include accurate dates during Alexander's flashbacks, mostly because it's aggravating to plot out. Last chapter happened at the beginning of that year, while this chapter, the flashback is almost at the end of the next year, near Christmas. So it's almost a two year gap if you really track the dates. This is why so many pillars have been built for the Acropolis, as a lot of time has gone by.
Devin and his Merry Band of Thieves: If you had magic, were young and stupid, and someone told you they wanted you to rob every magical library in every magical school in the world, you would agree. Unfortunately, I don't think they'll show up too often in the story, but thanks to them, Alexander now has the largest collection of magical texts and documents in the world all stored on his stone tablets.
Stone Tablets/wandless magic: They're magical cellphones/tablets basically. They don't have games or other apps like that, they're more focused on storing and sharing information and keeping people in touch without having to rely on owls. Alexander shared them with the people who came to him for the same reason why he taught them wandless magic: He knows he can trust them because of the Riddle Coins. The ones who disagree or oppose his views when he meets them he Obliviates and returns back to their homes. He's not going to waste time convincing them otherwise.
Now, you might consider it slightly odd that someone as paranoid as Alexander would be so willing to share so many secrets, but Alexander is acting with his long term goals in mind. At the end of Alexander Dantes I revealed that he built a MOUNTAIN sized structure. He isn't planning for just a few thousand magicals living with him and Daphne, he's thinking about what would be needed to create an entire civilization from scratch. He's also studied past civilizations and how they've fallen and he knows they need structure, unified goals, and a certain level of transparency. He could hoard all of his knowledge and pretend to be a god, but he'd rather they work with him willingly and not out of fear. Of course, he's also smart enough to realize he shouldn't reveal everything, and to always keep an advantage for himself.
Transfiguration/Transmutation: I tried to explain how I view the differences in this chapter, I hope it was clear. Dumbledore Conjuring hundreds of squishy sleeping bags in canon springs to mind, but I think we can all agree that canon is right about him being a Transfiguration Master, and that is within their powers. I don't think the sleeping bags would persist long after dawn though. Considering how known Alchemy is, I would think most witches and wizards would be able to learn Transmutation easily, so long as they had an understanding of Chemistry (which most don't). Alexander's non-magical education puts him at a distinct advantage because of this.
I hope you're all enjoying the story. The NEXT UPDATE will be in THREE DAYS!