Chapter 16 The return
Headmistress McGonagall drummed her fingers on the desk before her, her gaze vacant, and her mind ablaze with myriad of thoughts. In all her years of teaching, she had never encountered such a disconcerting scene; the unexpected discovery left her grappling with a multitude of emotions. Seated across from her was the motionless form of Evelyn Warren, a sight she found difficult to confront at the moment. Despite acknowledging Warren's actions as an act of self-defence, the sheer magnitude of force employed struck McGonagall as excessive. The two Hufflepuff boys, now recuperating in the infirmary, faced imminent expulsion for their unforgivable actions.
Nevertheless, Eve's actions, though grim, were rooted in self-defence, which mitigates the severity of her impending punishment. Minerva cast a quick, hopeful glance at the portrait of Dumbledore, yearning for a nugget of wisdom in her moment of uncertainty. Alas, the man's visage remained impassive, prompting a sigh from Minerva as she continued to tap her fingers on the desk. She awaited one more participant to enter the room before the meeting could commence.
Eve lowered her gaze to her feet, which dangled slightly above the floor. A mournful expression adorned her face as the realization of the immense pain her actions had inflicted on others weighed heavily on her. In the heat of the moment, she hadn't even been aware of the impact she was making. Afraid to meet the eyes of the headmistress, Eve couldn't bring herself to look up. The disapproving look she had received in the cellar from the woman she admired was one of profound disappointment—an expression she had hoped never to witness directed at her by the headmistress, but unfortunately, that moment had arrived today.
The fireplace roared, shattering the oppressive silence in the room. A transient green hue enveloped the space as Robert Sinclaire emerged, nonchalantly brushing soot from his impeccably tailored attire. Upon surveying the palpable tension in the room, he discerned the gravity of the situation. Partially briefed on the nature of the meeting, he harboured concerns about the potential repercussions for his granddaughter. While proud of her courage in standing up to bullies, he couldn't shake the conviction that she had crossed a line; the pain she had inflicted seemed excessive in his eyes.
Silently claiming his seat beside Eve, who remained oblivious to his presence, Robert felt a pang of sorrow for his granddaughter. Leaning down, he gently clasped her small hand in his, offering a compassionate squeeze. In this simple gesture, he sought to convey that she was not alone in facing the challenges ahead. Regardless of the outcome, Eve could find solace in the unwavering support of her grandpa.
Headmistress McGonagall abruptly ceased her finger drumming, and the room fell into a brief hush as she cleared her throat. The weight of the impending decision weighed heavily on her, especially considering she had grown fond of Eve over the months. Nevertheless, she knew that actions bore consequences.
"Thank you for joining us, Robert," McGonagall uttered, her voice betraying a hint of emotion. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the esteemed headmistress of Hogwarts, who, I must say, is looking quite beautiful for a woman in her 80s," Robert responded with a quick flash of his teeth. "It is a shame, however, the circumstances that bring us together today. Please, do continue, Headmistress," he added, reclining in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his undivided attention focused on the graceful woman addressing him.
Slightly taken aback by Robert's comment, it took her a moment to gather her thoughts, a subtle red tinge appearing on her cheeks.
"I must emphasize the severity of Miss Warren's actions; the letter I sent was merely a summary of the incident," the headmistress remarked, shifting in her seat as vivid memories flashed in her mind. "Miss Warren and her two friends heard a scream, prompting them to investigate. Upon arrival, they discovered two 1st-year students immobilized by two 7th-year students. A skirmish ensued after Miss Trupe and Mr. Potter were subdued. Miss Warren took it upon herself to resolve the conflict by inflicting extreme pain on the other group," McGonagall paused before delivering the grim details, "she stripped the flesh from their hands, leaving nothing but bone."
Shaking her head at Evelyn, McGonagall continued, "I am disappointed in you, Miss Warren. Instead of taking matters into your own hands, you should have contacted a teacher to handle the situation."
Eve remained silent, her ability to articulate suppressed by the weight of four pairs of scrutinizing eyes fixed upon her. Breaking the heavy silence, Robert inquired with a serious tone, "Is that what happened?" Eve simply nodded; her gaze still fixed downward, unable to meet the penetrating gazes around her.
Robert redirected his attention to McGonagall, his expression tense. "What is her punishment?" he inquired.
"She will be suspended for one month. Afterward, a review will be necessary to determine if it's safe for her to return to Hogwarts," McGonagall explained. Turning her gaze toward the subdued girl, she continued, "I'm sorry it has come to this, Evelyn, but for the safety of other students, I have to take this action. I understand what you did was in self-defence, but my hands are tied on this matter. You and your grandpa can take my Floo back home. I will see you in one month's time."
With those final words, McGonagall glanced away, a sense of regret evident as she suspended one of her favourite students.
Leading a disheartened Eve to the fireplace, Robert instructed, "You go ahead. I want a word with your headmistress. Just say 'home,' and the magic within the Floo powder will know where you mean." A gentle smile accompanied his words, and he placed a finger under Eve's chin, lifting her head. "It will be okay, don't worry, kiddo."
Once Eve had left the room, Robert turned back toward the perplexed McGonagall. Without hesitation, he spoke, his tone pleading, "Is there no other way to resolve this? Suspension is serious and could affect her future."
"I'm afraid not. This is the third incident where Evelyn has lost control of her magic—your observation about my youthful appearance being one of those times. If she cannot harness and control her magic, she poses a danger to every student here. I wish it weren't the case, as Evelyn is a wonderful child. But with two furious families demanding retribution, I had no other choice. I hope you can understand," McGonagall explained. Robert acknowledged her words with a slow nod.
"I will make sure her month's suspension is worthwhile. I shall personally train her to master and control the magic she holds. I promise you, she will return as a model student," Robert pledged.
Robert started to turn toward the fireplace, content with the headmistress's response. However, he halted and spun on his heel, wearing a clever smirk. "Say, I would need to keep you up to date with Evelyn's progress, wouldn't I?" Without waiting for a response, he continued, "A weekly business lunch sounds splendid to me. Is that little Italian bistro still open in Diagon Alley? What's its name?" He clicked his fingers together, attempting to recall.
McGonagall interjected, "Do you mean Esposito's?"
"Yes, that's the place. So, once a week to discuss school business?" Robert inquired, raising an eyebrow and looking tentatively at the headmistress.
McGonagall rolled her eyes, seeing straight past his ploy, but decided to indulge him. It had been a long time since she had been on a date, and Robert was a handsome man. "Fine," she said, her tone hard to read.
Robert approached the fireplace, scooping up a handful of Floo powder. As he prepared to toss it into the flames, McGonagall interjected, "It's not a date, by the way."
In response, Robert gave her a subtle wink and vanished into the green flames.
Minerva eased back into her chair, experiencing a peculiar warm tingling sensation she hadn't felt in such a long time. She had to catch her breath for a moment, the sensation overwhelming her to the point were her mind grew dizzy. The image of Robert Sinclair winking at her flashing before her eyes, left a small smirk on her lips.
As Eve landed in her own fireplace, the room appeared different from her recollection. The carpet had been replaced with wooden flooring, and the walls were now painted in a dark grey hue, with one accent wall adorned with forest wallpaper. Intrigued, she conducted a more thorough investigation of the room, noticing that even the furniture had been replaced with newer pieces.
Eve had to cast a quick glance out of the window to reassure herself that she was indeed in the correct house. "Mum, Dad! Where are you?" she yelled, her throat dry and cracking with each shout.
Suddenly, Mr. and Mrs. Warren appeared, poking their heads around the corner leading to the kitchen, both wearing broad smiles. "Evelyn!" they shouted simultaneously, embracing her in a three-way hug. Though it had only been a week since their last visit, they had missed their daughter immensely.
A few moments later, Robert stepped through the fireplace, his expression sombre. "Sorry, kiddo. I tried, but she's not budging," he said, hanging his head low as he took a seat on the hard black leather sofa.
"What happened?" inquired Eve's father. Without looking up, Robert mumbled something unintelligible that no one caught. "What?" Mr. Warren pressed. Eve quickly interjected, "I got suspended." Both her mom and dad turned to each other, their faces paling. "Can someone explain to me right now what has happened? Suspended? My little girl, I don't think so!" Mr. Warren roared, taking a seat to calm himself down.
Eve recounted the incident to her parents, delicately omitting the gruesome details and framing it as though she had done something regrettable. She didn't want her parents to perceive her as a danger to them.
"I'm proud of you, sweetheart. Standing up to those bullies was really brave of you," Mr. Warren said, wrapping his arm around Eve and pulling her down to the sofa beside him. "Whatever you want to watch on TV, it's yours. I don't care that you got suspended. You did the right thing in helping your friends, and that's how I raised you to be," he smiled at his daughter, proud of the young woman she was becoming.
Eve surveyed the room, noting the apparent changes. "What happened to the house? Everything is new," she remarked. Her Mother chuckled, "We may have spent some money to renovate the entire house while you were away. The only room we haven't done yet is your room. We were waiting for you to come back during Christmas break to get your input, but, well, that didn't happen. Since you're here for a month, we can get it finished," she smiled, her mind already drifting to wallpaper colours and matching drapes.
"Go and have a look around at all the rooms," Robert chimed in. With excitement bubbling inside her, Eve ran off to explore all the changes that had taken place within the house.
Upon her return, she asked, "Where is Sebastian? It's Sunday; shouldn't he be here?" Eve tilted her head, looking puzzled. Her dad and grandpa were both engrossed in the football on the TV, so her mom answered her question, "He's at work, sweetie. He mentioned wanting to work as much as possible so he could save a lot and move out."
Eve smiled, content with the answer. Unsure of what to do next, she excused herself and made her way to her room. Her plan was to delve into some of the books she had left behind, eager to stay productive during her time off.
Immersed in her books, Eve's thoughts drifted back to the meeting. She recalled the numbness she felt, convinced it spelled the end of her magical school journey. However, luck had favoured her with just a one-month suspension. Aware that she needed to rein in her anger, understanding that another outburst like the one that had just occurred could lead to expulsion, Eve made a mental note to discuss training with her grandpa the next day. After all, who better to guide her in mastering her unique magic than someone who had wielded it themselves.
Sweat dripped from Eve's brow as she snatched a blue towel, vigorously wiping her face. Leaning back against the wall, attempting to catch her breath, the exertion of the workout evident in the rise and fall of her chest. "Another excellent session, kiddo. I didn't think you would be able to project those last few items, but you, once again, surprise me," her grandpa remarked, flashing a proud smile.
Regaining her breath, Eve replied, "With you, Grandpa, it's much easier to learn. You understand how the magic feels within and how to release it, manipulating it to your whims." Eve had been training with her grandpa for three weeks, utilizing a function room they rented at the local gym. The trickiest part was figuring out how to prevent the ministry from busting down the door the moment Eve unleashed her magic.
Robert tapped into his underground connections, successfully procuring a piece of rare and expensive magical tech. This device had the unique ability to mask underage magic, providing a shield for Eve and Robert to train in peace.
"Did you see when I did that thing with the other thing?" Eve beamed at her grandpa as they exited the gym. Robert chuckled at Eve's excited mood, "Of course, I saw it. You were amazing. You've picked up everything so quickly; there's something special about you, I'm sure of it. You're learning this much faster than I ever did." Robert leaned over, draping his arm around Eve's shoulders and pulling her into a sideways hug as they strolled home.
After changing and tossing her clothes into the disappointingly ordinary laundry basket, Eve descended the stairs. The house was quiet; it was just her and her grandpa as everyone else was at work.
Relishing the tranquillity, Eve settled in front of the television. Scrolling through the channels, she sought something interesting to watch. Indecisive about which trashy daytime TV show suited her mood best, she continued the search.
A call echoed from the hallway, "Eve, I'm going out pretty soon. You'll be okay on your own, right?" Robert hastily tied his tie in the hallway mirror, shouting into the living room.
Eve stood up, glancing into the hallway. She saw her grandpa, freshly showered, shaved, and dressed in his nicest navy-blue suit. Eve rolled her eyes, "I can't believe you're dating my headmistress. That's so gross. You do know she's in her 80s." Robert chuckled as he finished his tie and turned to Eve standing in the threshold, "And don't forget that I am, in fact, in my 60s. Don't let my dashing good looks fool you," he smirked.
Robert and Minerva's chance encounters had evolved into a meaningful connection. The isolation from the opposite gender had ignited a fire within them, accelerating the growth of their relationship. With each passing moment spent together, their bond deepened, and their conversations took on a more intimate tone. Exploring shared interests revealed the depth of their connection, a natural progression heightened by their similar ages.
"Do not cook anything or open the door to any strangers. Your dad should be home in an hour," Robert advised, giving her a small kiss on the forehead before stepping out the door and closing it behind him.
Alone in the house, Eve grappled with a sense of loneliness and a subtle unease that made her slightly apprehensive. Every faint sound made her ears perk up, her eyes darting into the corners where shadows lingered. An unsettling feeling had taken hold of her, casting a gloom over the usually familiar and comforting spaces.
In a bid to calm her unease Eve settled in front of the television once more, her viewing options undecided. Opting for Cartoon Network, she indulged in two episodes of the Powerpuff Girls. An hour later the door opening and closing caught her attention, prompting an excited exclamation: "Dad!" Her father pushed into the living room, placing his briefcase on the coffee table before embracing his daughter, the stress of his day melting away instantly.
"How was your day? Did you and Grandpa engage in that funky training again? Speaking of which, where is he? Shouldn't he be keeping an eye on you?" Mr. Warren scanned the room, attempting to locate the elusive man.
"He had a date with my headmistress, I know so gross." Eves attempted to make a sicking face, but her laughter didn't help. "And my day has been really good. I trained hard today; I'm getting much better every session," Eve beamed up at her dad. He patted her head several times softly.
Seizing the remote from the armchair, Mr. Warren eased into his recliner. With a swift pull of the lever, his feet snapped into a relaxed position. Tapping at the remote, he switched the channel to BBC News.
The weatherman appeared on the TV, delivering the weekly forecast for the country: rain for the next two weeks with a chance of snow. "Great, more rain," Mr. Warren sighed and shook his head.
Suddenly, "Breaking news" flashed up on the television, abruptly cutting off the weather report. The scene on the television now depicted the exterior of a hospital.
"I am reporting live from St. Thomas's Hospital, where a recent explosion has left much uncertainty. The cause of the blast is still unclear at this moment. As you can see, there is extensive damage to the 10th floor of the hospital. We are actively gathering information, and the number of injuries is still unconfirmed," the news reporter conveyed with a sense of urgency.
The camera panned to reveal the black smoking wreckage on the side of the hospital, resembling the aftermath of a bomb explosion.
"My God, it looks like a terrorist attack," Mr. Warren gasped, raising his hands to his mouth. He leaned closer to the TV, and both Eve and her dad were engrossed in the news report. The chilling images on the screen painted a dire picture of a potential act of terror unfolding at St. Thomas's Hospital.
As the black smoke dispersed with the wind, the full extent of the damage came into view. An enormous hole the size of a bus, was visible in the corner of the 10th floor. Exposed metal beams and wires dangled, glass shattered across the entire side of the building, and broken pieces of concrete sporadically fell to the ground below. The aftermath painted a stark picture of destruction and chaos.
Amidst the wreckage, a solitary figure stood, their messy black hair concealing their features. Draped in a hospital gown, the figure clutched a length of wood in their right hand. Eve nearly tumbled off the sofa, drawn even closer to the TV, captivated by the unfolding scene. The news reporter resumed speaking, "As you can see, there has been extensive damage to the building. The fire department is now moving us back for our safety."
A sudden loud bang reverberated, and a red bolt of light streaked from the 10th floor, striking a parked fire engine. The vehicle erupted into flames, then imploded, sending shrapnel in every direction. "What the heck!" screamed the news reporter as the fire engine exploded, a piece of shrapnel hurtling toward the camera. The camera, suddenly falling to the ground, tilted upwards to capture a view of the 10th floor, where the lone figure unleashed blast after blast at various objects below, causing immense chaos.
Eve and her dad both gasped, their eyes unable to break away from the devastating scene. The camera feed persisted, capturing the violence unfolding before them. Suddenly, multiple individuals materialized out of thin air, adorned in black robes with hoods. They commenced casting spells that miraculously repaired the shattered surroundings. Some of the hooded figures directed their wands toward the wreckage on the 10th floor, a cascade of blue lights streaming into the dark hole. Eve, dumbfounded, struggled to comprehend the unfolding spectacle.
The camera, lying on the floor, was slowly lifted by a man shrouded in a hood. He motioned for another hooded figure to join him, both staring into the camera lens. In that brief moment, Eve caught a glimpse of their eyes, revealing fear and pain—testaments to witnessing something truly awful. The second man waved his wand over his palm, conjuring a peculiar object. He proceeded to tap both the camera and the strange item.
As the scene unfolded on the TV, Eve felt a probing sensation attempting to infiltrate her mind. It resembled a persistent worm, digging into her thoughts in search of something to destroy. Responding with her Occlumency skills, she swiftly isolated the intrusive feeling, capturing and imprisoning it within her personal void. Instantly, she felt a sense of relief.
Turning to her dad, she noticed his blank expression, his gaze fixed on the TV, mouth slightly ajar with a tiny bit of drool escaping.
Then it clicked for her, realization dawned on Eve about what was happening. The two wizards had employed a device to obliviate every single person watching the news. Such a device must be extremely powerful, Eve thought. Suddenly, the camera feed cut, and the television screen went black.
"I think I'll put the news on and see how the weather is looking for the week," Mr. Warren declared abruptly. It startled Eve, causing her to slip off the sofa and bang onto the floor. She stared at her father, who was furiously pressing buttons on the remote, attempting to connect to the news station, to no avail as the channel was still on the news. "Blasted thing is broken," he grumbled, banging the remote in frustration.
"Dad, we should watch something else; the news is boring," Eve suggested, trying to diffuse the tension. As the TV chimed onto another station and her dad settled, Eve righted herself back onto the sofa, contemplating what she had just witnessed. A powerful witch, clad in hospital attire, causing massive destruction for no apparent reason, and then a squad of Aurors arriving to tackle the situation. Eve mulled over her thoughts, attempting to piece them together. She paused, her eyes shooting open, and her mouth agape. "Hera, it has to be her" she whispered, placing her hand over her mouth.
Eve remained still for a good while, uncertain about what to do. Hera was out there, walking around after a month of silence, which struck Eve as strange. Now, Hera had revealed herself in a significant way, and the future seemed bleak and dangerous. Nowhere felt safe anymore, not even Hogwarts.
Her thoughts quickly turned to her friends. Hera knew everything about them. Would she go after them to spite Eve? Eve wasn't certain, but she knew she had to find a way to warn them.
[Flashback Hera's point of view]
Within St. Thomas Hospital in London, Hera lay in a drugged and drowsy state, suspended in her subconscious. Drip-fed with magic since her release from the void, she absorbed the mystical energy, gradually nearing full saturation. Soon, she would awaken in a world she no longer understood.
Hera was surrounded by a network of wires and pipes, remnants of multiple surgeries she had undergone since arriving at the hospital. Unfortunately, all attempts had been unsuccessful. The doctors were perplexed as to why the skin transplant wouldn't take. Within a few hours, the newly transplanted skin would begin to decompose and wither away, as if cursed. After weeks of repeated failures, the medical team reluctantly abandoned their efforts to repair her broken body. Left alone for days in her hazmat room, Hera remained hooked up to multiple tubes, subjected to force-feeding. The sight was far from pleasant.
The first inkling that something was amiss on that fateful day came when the hospital lights began to flicker, albeit only slightly—enough to prompt a few annoyed glances. The magic coursing through Hera's body came alive, reacting to the world around her. Hera's eyes weakly opened, revealing an alien scene before her. Strange metal objects dangled from the ceiling, emanating blinding light. Out of instinct, Hera lifted her arm to shield her tired eyes, inadvertently colliding with a plastic pipe attached to her mouth.
In the disorienting moment, she began to choke, the pipe lodged deep in her throat. Summoning her feeble strength, she pulled hard on the pipe, dislodging and extracting it from her mouth. As her head spun, she wretched forward, coughing up phlegm and bile. The experience left her feeling dizzy and not quite herself, her mind foggy and jumbled.
After a brief rest to collect herself, Hera began to scrutinize her surroundings as her strength gradually returned. Her neck cracked with every movement, and to her right, a machine emitted a rhythmic beeping that irked her greatly. Raising her hand towards the machine, she clenched her fist tightly, but nothing happened. Confused, Hera attempted again, only to find the same result.
"Strange, my magic must not have fully returned. I need to find the wand I took; it has to be around here somewhere," Hera croaked to herself, her voice coarse and raspy.
Swinging her legs off the bed, they felt as heavy as lead, thudding onto the cold, speckled grey floor. Hera rose to her feet and stumbled to the door, her limbs not fully responding to her wishes. As she moved into the hallway, the lights flickered on and off, creating an eerie environment. A passerby bumped into Hera as she emerged from the door.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there," the lady apologized, her eyes shifting to the sign on the door that read 'Hazmat, do not enter.' The woman's face dropped as her gaze swept over Hera, and she screamed. The sight of Hera's bony, diseased-looking forearms and hands shocked the woman. Her screams echoed down the hall, drawing more attention from staff members and the public.
A nurse came running down the corridor, hastily putting on a mask and gloves. "Ma'am, you need to return to your room immediately," the nurse said, her voice trembling, as she pointed to the door behind Hera.
"My things, where are my things?" Hera's raspy voice slithered across the space. The nurse said nothing; she just kept pointing at the door, her whole body now trembling.
"My things!" Hera screamed, her patience non-existent. The nurse squealed and ran over to a room across the hall. The plastic plaque outside read 'Personal belongings.' Tired of the muggle's incompetence, Hera wrenched the woman from the now open room, throwing her down to the ground. Hera searched the room, sensing the magic within the wand drawing her in.
Enveloping her bony fingers around the white shaft of the wand, a surge of power coursed through Hera, sending shocks throughout her body. She felt strong once again, her magic fully restored and ready to be unleashed. Hera spun on the spot, levelling the wand at the downed nurse.
"Goodbye," Hera uttered, a malicious smirk gracing her face.
An ungodly scream pierced the air as the nurse began to melt under the fiery force emanating from the wand. The woman who had let out the scream had passed out from fright. Without hesitation, Hera swiftly dispatched her with a blasting curse, scattering her insides across the floor and walls. Panic gripped everyone on the floor, prompting a mad rush for the exit as they sought to distance themselves as quickly as possible from the unfolding horror.
Hera strolled lethargically down the corridor, her unkempt black hair clinging to her forehead, and the hospital gown she wore was stained with blood. A sinister grin adorned her face, fuelled by the twisted pleasure she derived from extinguishing the lives of unsuspecting muggles. Approaching a steel box embedded in the wall, she heard a ding, and it began to unfold. Perplexed by the mysterious contraption, Hera tightened her grip on her wand, poised to dismantle it at a moment's notice.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hera caught sight of a blinding ball of light hurtling towards her. Without hesitation, she swiftly twisted her free hand, manipulating time to shift herself a few seconds back and evade the impending blast. With a crisp crack, she turned her head to gaze at the source of the attack. A man stood there, holding flowers in one hand and a wand in the other, locking eyes with her. In that suspended moment, they both grasped the inevitable— a duel was about to unfold.
Unbeknownst to the man, his fate had already been claimed by the grasp of death. Hera wasted no time; she unleashed a formidable blasting curse towards him. The spell zoomed past as he skilfully sidestepped, triggering a colossal crash that resonated through the building. Debris and dust billowed outward, dispersing towards the river Thames. The disoriented man, still reeling from the impact, failed to perceive the impending danger. A sinister concoction of purple and black magic collided with him, enveloping him like a malevolent shroud. Slowly, it constricted, crushing him until his eyes bulged from their sockets and his bones emitted a sickening crunch. When the spell finally subsided, all that remained of the man was a grotesque and mangled mess.
Approaching the substantial breach, she had created in the side of the building, Hera positioned herself to gaze upon the world she was poised to conquer. As she peered down upon the seemingly feeble muggles, the cacophony of blaring noises and the dazzling display of flashing lights below overwhelmed her senses. With a determined focus, she aimed her wand at a fire truck and bellowed, "Implodium." A sizable red bolt streaked through the air, striking the vehicle. Within moments, a colossal explosion echoed, sending fiery tendrils in every direction. A mischievous grin adorned Hera's lips, relishing in the chaos she had orchestrated.
"Oh, how I've missed these muggles—so weak and unimpressive," she chuckled with dark amusement. "Soon, they shall remember my name, and it will be the desperate plea on their lips, begging for their lives as my dominance unfolds."
The laughter was abruptly silenced as dozens of hooded figures materialized seemingly out of thin air—trained wizards prepared to apprehend her. If they anticipated her surrendering without a fight, they were gravely mistaken. Another smirk played on Hera's lips, viewing the situation as a welcomed challenge. "This will be fun," she mused to herself.
Several blue flashes streaked toward her in rapid succession. The onslaught was formidable, yet nothing Hera hadn't encountered before. Still, she couldn't ignore the fact that these wizards possessed a level of skill and power beyond those she had faced in the past—their spells more advanced and quicker in execution.
Retreating into the hallway, Hera skilfully deflected the rapid flurry of spells aimed in her direction, leaving scorch marks in their wake on the corridor walls. Like relentless spectres, the wizards materialized one by one, persisting in their magical onslaught. In a strategic move, Hera enveloped herself in a shimmering golden shield, causing the spells to freeze in time as they tried to breach its protective boundary.
Aware of the overwhelming numerical disadvantage she faced, Hera urgently contemplated her escape. "But where?" she whispered to herself. The world had changed since her last visit, and apperating to a familiar location could prove perilous. The risk of materializing inside a solid object loomed, potentially leading to instant peril. The stakes were high, and Hera needed to choose her next move wisely.
As her shield began to fracture under the relentless barrage of spells, Hera quickly surveyed her surroundings. To her right, through the doorway of a nearby room, she caught a glimpse of an embankment across the river. In a blink of an eye, she vanished from her current position, reappearing at the spot she had glimpsed.
Facing the hospital from across the river, Hera took in the aftermath of the destruction she had wrought. A broad smile adorned her face as she chuckled, revelling in the chaos she had orchestrated.
Swiftly waving her wand over her body, Hera deftly transfigured her hospital gown into a discreet beige long coat, paired with blue jeans and small black pumps reminiscent of an outfit she had observed on a woman in the hospital. Merging seamlessly with the crowd, she kept her head down while navigating the bustling streets of London city centre.
In search of refuge from the pursuing hooded wizards, Hera sought a quiet haven to formulate her plans. It was imperative to elude their reach and regroup. Gathering a following, as she had done in the past, was paramount for exacting her revenge on the muggle population. The intricate web of her schemes began to weave anew in the labyrinthine streets of London.
After navigating the bustling and peculiar city, filled with dancing lights, swift metal carriages, and a concentration of people unlike anything she had ever witnessed, Hera stumbled upon a significant pocket of magical energy she had been tracking. Intrigued, she entered the unassuming building known as 'The Leaky Cauldron.' Making her way to the bar, she approached a smiling woman who was diligently cleaning a glass mug with a yellow rag. The aesthetic of this establishment resonated more with Hera's preferences, embodying an older charm that harked back to a time before the sleekness of the modern world.
"Hello, miss. I'm Hannah. What can I get for you?" Hannah's radiant smile beamed warmly at Hera. Hera, in turn, surveyed the room, shifting her gaze across the eclectic surroundings. "I'm not from around here. I'm seeking your magical community—I can sense a significant concentration of magic in this area," she murmured, keeping her voice low as she noticed a few pairs of eyes curiously fixed on her.
Hannah returned the clean glass to the shelf and gestured towards an old wooden door. "If you go through there and tap the discoloured bricks, you'll find your way," she informed Hera. Without uttering another word, Hera moved towards the door. Upon entering Diagon Alley, the sight of the older buildings brought satisfaction. Her well-trained eyes caught an unusual figure, someone who clearly preferred not to be followed. It was precisely the type of person she needed to tail in order to discover a place where she could discreetly blend in.
Hera proceeded to shadow the enigmatic individual down another narrow alley, marked by a sign indicating 'Knockturn Alley.' The winding streets and tight passages were designed for eluding pursuit, but Hera's agility allowed her to keep pace with the man. He eventually entered an open square, surrounded by stores with dark exteriors and intriguing items showcased in glass shop fronts. Hera took mental note of these establishments, planning to revisit them later.
The man reached the left corner of the square, where an unassuming door stood flush against a windowless wall. Pushing it open, he swiftly entered, closely trailed by Hera, who slinked her way into the dimly lit room. A diverse array of intriguing characters occupied small round tables scattered throughout the spacious area, with a bar against one wall and a staircase in the far corner. Hera moved with silent grace, keeping her head low as she sought a quiet corner to sit and discreetly observe her potential followers. A self-assured smirk played on her lips as she found her sanctuary.
After several hours of keen observation, her thoughts drifted to an object she hadn't laid eyes on in a long time—the Sand of Eternity, the source of her unique magic. Countless years had been devoted to searching for it, and once found, after extracting the magic for herself, the hourglass sat dormant inside her London home.
Significant time had elapsed since those days, and the hourglass could be hidden anywhere. Realizing the urgency of securing it for her protection, Hera began devising a plan to unveil its elusive location.
[Back to Eve]
While at dinner, Eve absentmindedly pushed her mashed potatoes around her plate, deep in thought about the recent events unfolding on the television. She had remained mostly silent, responding to her parents' mundane inquiries with brief and straightforward answers. Eve anxiously awaited her grandpa's return from his date, as she had an urgent task at Diagon Alley—sending an owl to Hogwarts to warn her friends about Hera's return.
The front door swung open and then closed as Robert stepped into the kitchen, where the family sat around the table enjoying their meal. Offering a small smile to everyone, he couldn't help but notice Eve's intense gaze fixed on him. Tilting his head slightly, he inquired, "What's up, kiddo?" The subtle shift in her expression told Robert that something was amiss with his granddaughter.
Eve pushed her plate away, signalling that she had finished her meal, and excused herself from the table. Her parents exchanged a knowing glance, offering her a placid smile, understanding that they would need to talk to her later. They sensed that something was amiss. Eve approached her grandpa and embraced him tightly. In a hushed tone, she whispered, "She's back."
Robert stood in momentary stillness, fully aware of the person Eve was referring to. Taking her hand, he guided her into the hallway, away from prying ears. Hunching over to meet her eye level, he asked, "Are you sure she's back?" Eve nodded, suppressing her fear to find her voice. "I need to warn my friends. Can we go to Diagon Alley? I need to send an owl."
Sensing the unease building within his granddaughter, Robert pulled her into a comforting embrace, holding her for a moment before agreeing, "Yes, we can go. Let me just explain to your parents what we're doing." Eve squeezed his hand, her plea evident. "Don't worry. I won't tell them about Hera. You'll be safe with me. Let's not worry them for no reason." He smiled, gently freeing his hand.
Eve stood by the fireplace, anticipation written on her face, awaiting her grandpa's return. He strolled into the living room, wand in hand. With a graceful flick, he aimed the wand at the fireplace, causing it to expand, creating enough space for a person to step inside. Retrieving a handful of floo powder from a metal dish on a nearby stand, he threw it down, uttering, "Leaky Cauldron." Eve promptly followed her grandpa into the enchanted fireplace.
The duo navigated through the bustling pub, now a lively hub with wizards and witches from various backgrounds merrily indulging and drinking away their day. Upon stepping into the alley, a noticeable tranquillity settled in. Most visitors had either retired to the pubs or returned home for the evening, while the shops started closing up. A handful of unsavoury characters loitered around the entrance to Knockturn Alley, casting quizzical looks their way. This unsettled Eve, prompting Robert and her to hasten down the street toward the owl post office.
As the pair approached, the two workers stood outside on the verge of locking the door. Robert addressed them with clarity and politeness, "Can I trouble you gentlemen for a moment? We have one urgent letter that needs sending, and it can't be delayed." The workers exchanged glances, their attention then shifting to the little girl clutching a letter in her hands.
"Sure, one more letter couldn't hurt. Hand it over, and I'll send an owl out right away. You're lucky; you caught us. One more minute, and we would have been gone," the gentleman said, smiling at Eve as she handed him the letter. The two men re-entered the building, leaving Robert and Eve standing alone outside.
Feeling much better now that her letter was on its way to warn her friends, Eve's mood improved, and she began to smile at her grandpa. "Thank you for bringing me," she expressed. He ruffled the top of her head, causing her smile to shift into a scowl as she smoothed down her hair.
"Let's head home," Robert suggested, his mood reflecting Eve's. Seeing her smile again warmed his heart. Together, Robert and Eve made their way back toward the Leaky Cauldron, unaware that just a few streets over, Hera was maliciously hatching her plans. Her sinister intentions involved seeking the Sands of Eternity and amassing a formidable following to stand against the Ministry and muggle population.
While strolling past the entrance of Knockturn Alley, Eve overheard some of the unsavoury characters muttering to one another. Feeling a surge of unease, she clung closer to her grandpa for safety. The men began to shift from behind them, and then, without warning, Eve felt a searing pain in her back. Her eyes started to grow heavy, and she dropped to the hard, pebbled street like a brick, completely unconscious.
In a swift motion, Robert turned around, raising his hand to shield himself from a horrid green flash that froze mid-air. Glancing down at his daughter, he noted that she was unconscious but not dead. Reacting quickly, he shifted his hand in a counterclockwise motion, sending himself back 20 seconds in time, seizing the opportunity to take advantage of his newfound knowledge.
Sensing Eve clinging tightly to him, Robert knew swift action was essential. Slipping his wand into his right hand, he aimed at the entrance to Knockturn Alley where the five men were standing. "Bombarda Maxima!" Robert yelled, unleashing a large yellow blast that collided with the building above the entrance. It rained bricks down on the unsuspecting men, crushing them into the pavement below.
Swiftly wrapping his arms around Eve, hoisting her into his embrace, Robert dashed down the street into the Leaky Cauldron and used the Floo network to get home. Upon their arrival, he whispered to Eve, "Don't say anything to your parents. I'll handle them. You go straight to your room." Eve nodded, recognizing the concern in her grandpa's face. She had questions, but she could receive answers another time.
Hurrying up to her newly renovated room, Eve settled onto her desk chair, utterly puzzled by the recent events. She waited for some time before her grandpa entered, his expression sombre. "Grandpa, what happened? Why did you attack those people?" She folded her arms, visibly cross with her grandpa, recalling how he had scolded her for violence, now seemingly contradicting his own words.
Seated on her bed, Robert ran his hands through his hair before explaining, "Those men attacked you, knocking you out. I don't know why they targeted you specifically. After incapacitating you, they attempted to kill me. It was evident that their focus was solely on you. I reversed time, and armed with the knowledge, I took action to prevent them from causing you any harm."
Eve gasped, raising a trembling hand to her mouth. "They tried to kidnap me and murder you?" she sputtered out her question. Robert nodded, fully aware of how disastrous the outcome could have been without his unique magic. He stood up and gave Eve a quick hug. "You don't leave this house alone, is that understood? There's one week until you go back to Hogwarts. Let it be an uneventful week, please," his tone stern and serious.
She nodded, signifying her understanding. Robert took his leave, leaving a perplexed young girl with a million thoughts racing through her mind. "Why would they want to kidnap me?" she mused as she shuffled over to her bed, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that brought her a semblance of comfort. With just one more week until she returned to Hogwarts and reunited with her friends, the realization that someone wanted her urged her to heed her grandpa's words and stay indoors for the remaining week—it was clearly dangerous out there.