Chapter 16 – From Newer Days On
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On the night Voldemort fell, as well as the disbandment of the Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody discussed the dangers that still lurked the shadows. Knowing the Wizarding World still required guardianship, the two asked Kingsley Shacklebot to be an additional handler for their new, secret coven. Next, they recruited and trained three children.
Their names: Grimm, Liar, and Norse.
Talented, hardened, scarred by their own respective pasts, and freely demonstrating in everything morally gray. They were the hidden shield, as well as the quiet dagger, that protected not only residents of the Wizarding World, but Muggles as well.
Permitted use of the Unforgivable Curses by the magic binding them to their guild, the three are called, "The Forgiven".
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Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm, Liar, and Norse were able to rescue Kingsley and the Longbottoms. With Alice's last departing words, the Forgiven vowed to keep her son, Neville, safe.
Five years have passed since the previous chapter.
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In the Forgiven's underground base, underneath one of Moody's safehouses, Liar and Grimm ran laps around the training room per their daily physical conditioning.
"Oh, for fock's—" Grimm groaned.
"On your left."
"Agh!"
For the second time that afternoon, Liar lapped Grimm on the track circuit.
An oversized clock, usually built for clock towers, hung over them like a cloud. It rung three times, sounding the end of their running quota. They would complete their final circuit and end their exercise for that day; Liar earlier than Grimm.
As the witch watched her teammate run off into the distance, she gave up on competing with him and slowed her pace for the final leg. Grimm's eyes wandered about the place they called home for the last six years.
Much had changed since they first joined the Forgiven.
At first, the underground base was little more than a spartan training house. Exercise equipment, magical instruments for combat and spying, simple dorms, and the bare necessities for living were the only objects to fill the coliseum sized bunker. Their home had grown much homelier since then.
In addition to the base's dimensional expansions, more flavor had been added to make the place more livable. "Procured" art paintings hung from the giant walls. A small Quidditch court had been constructed. Trophies from some of their more memorable missions littered the underground stadium like displays in a museum. Through some innovative spellcrafting, Liar was able to create a miniature sun that hovered during the day and changed to a moon during the night.
One of Grimm's favorite new aesthetics was the giant tree, which grew tall enough to reach the ceiling, and had branches growing out the sides for anyone to sit on.
For the past week, the Forgiven were required to stay underground after a particularly attention drawing mission. Though, no one would ever know it was them, they were told to lay low as precaution. The tree helped deal with the lengthy times indoors.
As Grimm ended her lap, she joined Liar, who was sitting under the tree with his back resting against its trunk. The wizard lazily pulled out a maroon colored box labeled: "Fire Drakes", and put one of its cigarettes in his mouth. He snapped his fingers and lit the end. Rings of smoked tobacco floated into the air shortly after.
"Good lung capacity and cardio. Congrats on breaking the unhealthy smoker stereotype," Grimm commented.
"Why, thank you," Liar responded with a smile.
"As 'healthy' as you may be, you should knock off the habit before it kills you."
"If something were to kill me, it won't be lung cancer. Or heart disease, for that matter."
"Logical hypocrisy at its finest."
"Hehe! I would wear those words like a sash to a beauty pageant."
The thought of Liar wearing a gown and sashaying in front of judges entered Grimm's thoughts. She shook her head vigorously.
"Gross and cringe-worthy."
"Really? I'd believed I'd grown quite a figure in these past years to accentuate the better parts of a dress."
"Still can't believe you can outrun me," Grimm pursed her lips.
"So competitive. You outclass in most everything else. Can you not be satisfied with that?"
Grimm was still pouting a bit. She eyed Liar's cigarette pack.
"…Give me one," she said.
"I thought you said you were quitting."
"I haven't had one in two weeks. It's fine. Not like I'm going to outrun you anytime soon…"
The wizard shrugged and handed her a cigarette. When Grimm put it between her lips, Liar grasped his fingers near the end.
*Snap*
A small fire flared to life and lit the cigarette.
The Forgiven had been working on their non-wand spells for some time now. Another part of their training regimen. They never wanted to be completely defenseless, not even in the event they lost their wands. Moody's catch phrase: "Constant Vigilance!" deeply engraved itself into all of them.
For a long relaxing moment, the two sat under the shade of the indoor tree, smoking their tobacco with leisure. The witch eventually summoned a couple of Caprisun packs and threw one at Liar. As she sipped on her juice, Grimm thought on how far they'd come, how much they'd changed, but how so much stayed the same.
She looked at the wizard beside her, who furrowed his brow at the sight of his empty, last cigarette pack.
Liar had grown impressively through the years. He was about 5'11, with Grimm measuring up to his eyes. All the Forgiven went through a physical training regiment, and had built a fair amount of muscle because of it. Liar was by no means bulky, but nowhere near as lanky as he was in their earlier years. Though, he still enjoyed playing the fool, the outlines of his face and frame were slowly gaining the edges of maturity.
During one of the Forgiven's more scrappier battles, Liar was almost killed by a powerful curse. A deep cut replaced what used to be the flesh of his left earlobe. Because of how strong the spell was, the injury was unhealable by the time they could treat it.
Given how dangerous their missions were, it wasn't too surprising they had all gained a good amount of scars by now. Not only that, but stress and sleepless nights caused the three Forgiven to grow some dark rings around their eyes.
Grimm herself had a permanent wound striking vertically down her lips. It stung for her to speak or even breathe, but the witch had gotten used to it after a while.
The leader of the Forgiven experienced her own exceptional growth. Previous years had made her wiser, faster, stronger, and all around, a much more formidable individual than she was before. Experience tempered her mentally and sharpened her mind. She prospered under the role of the Forgiven's leader, and developed a certain amount of charisma and boldness as well.
A part owing to Grimm's leadership, the Forgiven had gained some autonomy: the ability to move without the required supervision of their Forgivers. On many accounts, they were able to choose their own missions, follow their own leads, and conduct themselves as they saw fit. Dumbledore, Moody, and Kingsley transitioned from a close mentoring role to ones more distant—still handing out important assignments and counsel from time to time, but not as frequent.
Mad Eye didn't even watch over their training anymore….as much.
The three teenagers had changed much physically and ability wise, but as far as their personalities went, they more or less stayed true to themselves. Grimm, ever sarcastic and bitter. Liar, still sarcastic and bad humored. Norse, challenging and stubborn, and also very much sarcastic prone.
Grimm and Liar climbed to the higher branches of the tree so they could enjoy some height. When they reached about halfway to the ceiling—about five stories high—they slumped into lazy, comfortable postures. Grimm pulled out her wand and incanted,
"Accio."
A PlayStation controller flew to her from somewhere in the large room. As soon as her hands touched it, a magical projection hummed to life. The artificial sun died out, and the only source of light came from a holographic great sword in the middle of the stadium.
Words above shone:
NEW GAME
Continue?
Liar's shoulders drooped.
"Final Fantasy, again? How many times have you beaten this already?"
"It's a good game. You're just annoyed because I won't play Tetris with you."
"I must defeat Norse. I cannot do so without proper practice and a sparring partner," Liar proclaimed.
"One hour."
The young man rolled his eyes and summoned a box of Fire Whiskey Chocolates to snack on. Taking it as a sign of agreement, Grimm began playing her game. The sounds of FFVII resounded loudly through the base as colossal holographics played out in front of the two—a video gamer's dream brought to life.
After about half an hour, Liar spoke up.
"I take it our next venture will be a difficult one?"
"What gave you that idea?" Grimm responded without looking.
"Because you bite the inside of your mouth and spam the O button more aggressively when something occupies your thoughts."
"How annoyingly observant, you are…"
"It is the role I've taken to."
Grimm pressed her lips to one side with annoyance.
"Albus has a couple of really annoying jobs for us."
"How difficult? Like…Tuesday difficult?"
"Yes—that difficult. I'll explain when Norse gets here."
"Where the bloody hell is she anyway?" Liar said, popping another chocolate into his mouth.
"She didn't come home last night. Probably having some fun out on the town," Grimm shrugged.
"Thought we were supposed to be keeping a low profile?"
"I owed her. Helped her sneak out. Sorry, by the way. She took some Polyjuice with her."
"Are you serious?! That was a fresh batch! I didn't brew those so Norse could fock half of London, and get focked by the other half!" Liar exclaimed.
"With great power comes great sexual appetite, apparently."
As the Forgiven aged into puberty, Norse's sexuality awakened in a most unexpected way. She had developed a habit of using Polyjuice Potions to take forms of beautiful women and handsome men, as well as grow their respective genitalia. Needless to say, the witch had her own fun with that.
"Speaking of which…" Grimm snickered.
The portkey to the underground base activated. From out of a soda can, Norse appeared within the video game hologram. Grimm shut down the game and restored the sun. She and Liar leapt off the tree to greet her.
Norse's exceptional height only grew further over the years. She was burlier, harder, possessed of rippling muscles, including six pack abs. Her hair grew long enough to cover most of her back. Like the other two, Norse sported her own scars from their missions. Particularly one horizontal gouge, which cut through the bridge of her nose and passed right under her eyes.
The large glowing witch had improved her spellcraft to the point her magic resembled acts of god at times. Norse broke countless wands, almost all of them caused by curses and charms similar to apocalyptic events. And as far as practice duels went, she was the Forgiven's undisputed champion. Liar winning none of their spars together, while Grimm won maybe one out of five, to the leader's irk. As powerful as Norse had grown, she still possessed a kind of soft side for her two friends.
With hair glowing almost brighter than the artificial sun above, she strode to Grimm and Liar with a giant grin plastered on her face; a mysterious crate under one of her arms.
"Looks like you had a good time," Grimm commented.
A most satisfying trip.
"NORSE! Stop using up all of our Polyjuice Potions! You know how long it takes to brew those damned things?!" Liar complained.
Norse laughed silently and handed Liar the large crate she was holding. The wizard poked the box with skepticism, but decided to open it regardless. The crate's insides were filled with packs of his favorite Fire Drake tobacco. As he had just finished his last pack, the wizard's temper turned about completely.
"Ah~ ! A nicotine angel has descended!" Liar praised.
"The Nicotine Angel; she comes with tidings of tobacco, while reeking heavy of sex," Grimm added.
Both of you can go die!
The three joked around for a little. When they had their fair share of laughs, Grimm commanded their attention.
"Albus has assigned us not one, but two bullshit missions. I won't lie—they really, really suck."
""Yay~"" Liar and Norse cheered.
"Our first mission is to break into Gringotts."
Liar and Norse were no longer cheering.
"And here's the best part," Grimm continued. "We're not even supposed stealing anything."
""WHAT?""
"Albus just wants to see if someone could do it. He probably also wants us to find holes in the security so the Goblins can cover it up."
"That…is completely lunatic," Liar groaned.
"Told you. Course, it wouldn't be much of a Forgiven mission if we didn't steal anything, which is why I'm giving us an additional objective."
Oh joy, Norse wrote with her finger.
"We will be breaking into Voldemort's vault, while we're there," Grimm declared with a sly grin.
…
Everyone was silent for a moment.
Then Liar coughed. "Voldemort's vault?"
"Yup."
"The one even the Goblins, who own the banks, can't open?"
"The very same."
"…..Well! If we're going to pull off the greatest heist in wizarding history, we might as well do something memorable," Liar exasperated.
It will be an impressive feat. One that will bring us even greater infamy.
"So what's the second mission?" Liar gave a wary ask.
Grimm sighed and placed a hand on her hip.
"We'll be abducting, and possibly protecting—Nicholas Flamel."
The words sent Norse and Liar's stomachs plummeting. After another long, awkward moment, Liar recovered first and was putting two and two together.
"Testing the Gringott vaults? And now, Nicholas Flamel? Albus believes someone is after the Sorcerer's Stone."
"That would be my bet."
"Voldemort?"
"Could be," Grimm answered in a dark tone. "—Probably."
It has been long since our last Voldemort-related mission.
"Yeah. And the Sorceror's Stone? That's a fairly big move." Liar went silent as he pondered a thought. "And Albus, who's tried to keep us secret all these years is suddenly giving us assignments like these?"
Their leader looked at the two Forgiven with all seriousness. Grimm had come to the same conclusion Liar and Norse were coming to right now. It was what they expected to happen eventually. Something a part of them dreaded.
"Things are changing," Grimm told them. "We've been living in secret for so many years now, but these missions…"
The Forgiven might not be hiding behind the scenes for much longer.