Harry Potter and the Hermetic Order
It happened in October, 1987
For many years Talbot House in Newbury had been in the possession of the Talbot family. For countless generations, the family had long served as a pillar within the community thanks to the many charitable works of the family in helping their neighbors in rebuilding following the Second World War. But since that time the collective family fell on hard times and had to sell their holdings to another rather well-off family known as the Dickories.
Now the Dickories were considered an odd sort in comparison to the old Talbots as where the Talbots tended to be rather amicable and helpful to their neighbors the Dickories seemed rather hostile towards them. They issued warnings of trespassing, refused to participate in local holidays, and derided local elders who once held strong ties to the Talbots as family friends. Then one day seven years ago they just up and left.
For the remaining friends of the Talbots, this was seen as a boon and went about life as usual. Yet among those honored to be counted as the Talbots' friends, one Timothy Albert was left uncertain. He had lived for a long time, long enough to see the long and steady decay of the once prominent house. Now in his nineties, he had seen much change and much stayed the same. He had been to two world wars and two that none knew happened, he had seen his children grow up and move out, and witness the turning of the centuries. He also knew that the residents of the Talbot house, both current and past, were more than what they presented themselves to be.
It had been early at the start of the century when he had come across the youngest of the Talbot children, Anthony Talbot, being accosted by several brutes along the biking route from Newbury to Thatcham. He stepped in to aid his neighbor and together they made their stand, but amidst their struggle, he saw something he could not rationalize. He could still remember the shock he felt seeing his neighbor whip out a stick a mere 10 inches long and with a quick swish blew one of the thugs off their feet without even touching him.
The walk back was just as memorable as Anthony told him of the wonderous thing he could do, magic. To Timothy, this revelation was a momentous change in his worldview. At that time he wondered how many legends he had been told and stories had he read were the truth. Was it so that magic existed in the world around? Now despite being raised in a devout protestant household he had always kept an open mind to the wonders of the world. The existence of magic was a shock but he was less fearful and more curious of its existence. After all, if magic is a natural part of the universe then it must be a part of the creator's design.
When they returned to Newbury, Anthony introduced him to the rest of his family who graciously congratulated him for his efforts in the protection of their youngest son. From that point forward he and the family formed a close bond of friendship with Timothy that even to this day he still held dear to him. They revealed more details about the "wizarding world", highlighting a few things like the applications of magic, their understanding of how it allowed them to influence the world, and the basic structures of the magical community, but not much more.
And it was a revelation to this day that he still held dear. From that point onward Tim and Anthony held onto their bond, becoming like brothers to one another. And when the Second World War came around they enlisted together. Anthony's family considered this choice to be peculiar by the fact that he would get involved in muggle affairs, as apparently, it was uncommon for wizards to join up in muggle militaries. But Anthony would not be dissuaded.
Together they fought through many different battlefields and saw many great and terrible things. Strangely through their deployment, they found themselves in the middle of many shadow conflicts which had them cross paths with both magical and non-magical people who were involved in understanding and exploring the magical side of the world. It was an exciting time for both of them, but only Tim would make it home. The thought of his old friend brought a sad smile to his face for a brief moment. That's why this fall evening, sitting in his home across from the Talbot house, he gazed at the disrepair of his old friend's home with a gaze of thinly veiled contempt.
The streets around the house had all been dimmed, including his own. No one seemed to know how it happened and this had been going on for several days now, yet each time the electric company came by they couldn't find anything wrong. Except tonight, tonight the only house with lights on was Talbot's house, where a faint glow could be seen coming from the attic.
Ever since the Dickories had moved in Timothy had a rather odd feeling about this new family as they seemed to be prone to similar mannerisms that the Talbots had, be it oldish style clothing, a seeming lack of interest in developing technology, or care for current affairs. Needless to say, they seem to belong to the same wizarding community that his old friends told him of, if not a bit more hostile. Rocking back in his chair he glowered at the light. No, he knew exactly what they were, trouble.
After the Talbot family had opened his eyes to the truth he started keeping tabs on the wider mysteries of the world, in which he uncovered the rather disturbing picture of the state of the "wizarding world". At the time the magical community was seeing the rise of many "dark lords" that in recent years had advocated not just for systems of racial purity but also the subjugation of "muggles". Though both had been defeated many of their followers had survived and had been reintegrated into their society and were still actively pushing for their old master's agendas.
Even thinking of it now caused an enraged scowl to darken his face. And they just happened to roost here, now isn't that a spot of bother.
Yes, he knew what they were, he had suspected it for many years but now he was certain. Seven years ago the remaining Dickories, a pair of brothers named Thomas and Alric, had left the house around when the magical community was in an uproar about a new dark lord. Originally Tim assumed that they had left to escape the coming troubles but given what he had heard coming from the house.
The funny thing about wizard supremacists, they never think that muggles would have the gall to bug their houses. If they had bothered to get to know their neighbors then they would have learned of his connection to the Talbots. More importantly, they might have learned that despite their dispersal of their property to them they did leave him with a few things with him as parting gifts. Namely a spare key to the manor.
Unfortunately, the key by itself would not be enough to enter that place. Shortly after the Talbots had left he tried to enter their old home, only to find that they had charmed the house to repel non-magical folk. At the time he despaired, saddened that his friend's home and the memories that he shared there were lost to its new masters. He would have been lost to his despair if it was not for the intervention of Tatiana, an acquaintance he made during the war, who saved him from the bottom of the bottle. After he sobered up, she told him of an offer that had been sent to her in regards to her occult interests and that their mutual acquaintances had also received similar offers telling those of them in Britain to meet near Newbury at the old Donnington Castle.
If meeting the Talbots was the start of his understanding of the world, it was the gathering at the old castle that was the abandonment of a normal one. From there he saw sights that would leave lesser men broken, learned secrets that wizards would die for, and became sworn to a cause that would see the world changed forever
Casting off those memories he returned to listening to the ongoing meeting through the taps he set up in the house. So far it seemed as though the Dickory brothers had not shown up yet, as most of the conversations seemed to be unfocused with most of it pertaining to ministry laws and muggle-born rights. Apparently, these wizards and witches had been following a fellow who was pushing for an ethnostate in Britain that would see those descended from muggle families eliminated with "normals" next on the chopping block. The thought of it made Tims blood boil.
"Silence!", he then heard from the key, which acted as his tether to the listening tabs in the house. It sounded like Thomas, given the whiny tone in his voice. "I am pleased that so many of you have managed to make it to our meeting to not only our dearly departed master but to also continue where he left off."
The declaration was met with a round of clapping from the assembled cultists.
"Rather cheery bunch aren't they?" his guest spoke up. Leaning against the wall of his room stood a young man dressed in a long cloak over a set of old armor that would have looked more in place in the 2nd crusade rather than in the modern nights, complete with a tabard and arming sword that dimly glinted in the lamplight. Beneath the hood of the cloak Tim could make out a pair of pale green orbs that held a silent sense of mirthful sarcasm as they gazed at the glowing window across the way. "They stay silent for nearly 7 years then, poof decide to show up in your old backyard. What are the odds."
"Not that great Simon," Tim said. "If they have risked this much to come out of hiding, and risk the wrath of the Ministry it must be important."
"So what should we tell the rest of the circle? You want them to move in now?"
"Not yet," he said, shaking his head. "We don't have a motive yet."
"No motive?" Simon exclaimed. "They just said that they want to continue their master's work. How could that not be seen as a threat?"
"They have been making claims like that for the last week, but have not said anything on what they plan to do," Tim shot back, a sigh under his voice. "If we don't find out what their plan is, us rushing in there is going to make us look like a zealous band of mad men who burn all they touch."
"Isn't that the purpose of our organization?" Simon countered. "To keep the magical folk from ruling over us normals?"
At this Timothy Let out an exasperated groan pinching the bridge of his nose. What are they teaching initiates these days?
"No. The purpose of the Order is to ensure that both sides can coexist peacefully until a time when the veil can be lifted," Timothy explained. That was the mission he had been fighting for. It was the dream of not only the founders of the order but also that of his departed friend.
"Indeed my good brother," a new voice then spoke from the key, cutting his lecture short. It was safe to assume that the speaker was Alric. "In the time of our exile from this quaint little place we came across a rather interesting piece of information."
For a moment nothing but silence was heard from the enchanted key.
"We have found the location of the Boy Who Lived."
Immediately the sound of wild exclamations was heard from the key as the gathered dark wizards erupted into wild conversation. For Tim and Simon, the announcement was just as profound. They had heard about the child from their contacts across magical Britain, which claimed that the child had defeated the new dark lord almost 7 years ago before going to ground. Amongst the circles of the Order, there was a heavy debate on what should be done if the child was found, with some groups saying there should be a watch placed upon him once his location was discovered, others saying that he should be brought into the order as soon as possible, while more zealous members called for his death.
For Timothy, the question of what was to be done flew out the window once the boy was mentioned. Now things had changed. He jerked his head towards Simon and gave a swift nod which was all the young squire needed to put their contingency into action.
The two of them grabbed the key and then stabbed it into the top of the table it rested on activating a runic array that turned the listening tabs inside Talbot house into a powerful teleportation array. The ritual to set up such an effect had been long and arduous for Tim to set up, and even more so to learn as the Fey and senior Enchanters who he courted to learn such skills demanded much during his tutelage. However, it was thanks to their training and the trials he endured that he came to understand his place in the world.
He was an enchanter. A man of rune work and ancient song that allowed him to speak deeply into the world and to which the world would listen. It was not the magic of Wizard kind with their magical cores and romanized words of commands, no this was a conversation with the world, this was Hermetic Magic, the magic that could be touched by muggles.
In a flash of light their location changed, no longer were Timothy and Simon in Timothy's house nor was it the attic of the Talbot house for the group of 10 confused wizards and witches garbed in dark robes. The location they now found themselves in was a clearing amidst dense trees with an ancient oak rising above the others, its trunk twisted and knotted. Already he and Simon had drawn their respective tools, for Simon his silver sword and Tim an Iron and oak rod. Threateningly they approached the gathered dark acolytes who bristled at the pair's gall.
"Who in the hell are you!" a man with dirty blond hair and a bulky frame spoke up brandishing a wand in his hands while a thinner man with similar dirty blond hair cowardly behind him. Tim immediately recognized them as Alric and Thomas, though given the ragged form of their appearance life on the run seems to have aged them up a fair few years for men barely out of their twenties. "Are you with the ministry? Who ratted us out? Was it you Lola!"
The witch in question, a dark-haired woman with a silver serpent necklace, flinched, anger flashing in doe-like eyes that held a measured amount of steel.
"Piss off Alric, I told no one!" she spat back. Before the argument could develop any further a peal of laughter erupted from Simon whose sword glistened threateningly in the faint moonlight of the clearing.
"Hate to break it to you sods but we don't work for the ministry," he drawled out his hand grasping a Dara Knot that he rolled over his fingers. "No, I doubt that they have heard of us. After all, I hear they don't care about what us muggles do unless we have magical children, then they choose to stamp us out of the equation."
Alric lost it, whipping his wand towards Simon an angry snarl plastered across his features. With a flick of his wand, he cast a cutting charm at the young man hoping to cut open his throat. Instead, Simon simply drew up his blade as if to block the attack, and to the surprise of the dark wizards it did. The spell simply bounced off the blade and was sent flying back at its user cleaving his wand arm at the shoulder.
"HOW!" he yelled in pain. "Magic is the right of the pure-blooded!"
"Magic is a part of the world and therefore a part of all things," Timothy then spoke, a glare firmly set on his face. "You have no better claim to it than to claim the world as you own. The Talbots had the good grace to recognize that."
The sound of his voice stirred recognition from the Dickory brothers who now stared at him in open shock. Here stood the man they had ridiculed for most of their lives who claimed to be their equal. The shock only lasted a few short seconds before the gathered wizards drew their wands and went on the offensive, casting a shower of spells upon the muggles that dared steal the gift of magic.
Instead, they were met by the pair weaving the spells around their tools sending them to the earth or casting them back at their invokers who desperately tried to ward themselves in protective charms with two falling to their spells. Tim then raised his staff thumbing the runes and seals upon it coaxing it to life as a pair of horned serpent heads sprang from the staff's top and proceeded to launch a green ball of fire at the wizards who scattered before the spell.
With barely a moment to process the attack, Simon jumped between their ranks and started to deftly cut down the distracted wizards and witches. Each blow he landed caused roots to spring from the ground and bind the unfortunate magical folk to the earth, restraining their limbs and covering their mouths.
In the confusion Tim saw Lola attempt to apparate away, turning into a cloud of rippling darkness in an attempt to escape the clearing. That was until a ghostly scream rang out from the Twisted oak as an ethereal green figure with stag antlers was launched out of the tree and collided with the escaping witch. For a brief moment, she tried to fight back but her spells simply slid off the figures as they summoned a horde of screaming wraiths that poured from the woods, restraining her limbs and binding her to the ground. And just like that the skirmish was over.
"It's a pleasure to see you, Herne, I hope we have not disturbed you too much this evening," said Tim to the spectral horned figure, nodding respectfully. In response, Herne simply strode towards the downed wizards and grabbed the severed hand of Alric.
"I'll be taking this as a recompense for their intrusion," he rasped out. "Do with them as you will but begone by the setting of the moon, or else the hut will be after you."
Once more Tim nodded in respect and Herne returned to the oak dismembered hand and all, leaving only his wraiths that bound the dark wizards. With the elder spirit and avatar of the old Hunt appeased Tim knelt to look a thoroughly frightened Alric in the eyes.
"Now before the spirit of the hunt returns, I have a few questions to ask of you," Tim said in a hollow yet demanding tone. "Where is Harry Potter?"
