Chapter 23 is out!

I don't know what the hell was wrong with me for this one, but I couldn't find the motivation to do good writing for some scenes. Fortunately, inspiration hit me a few days ago and I managed to write the second half of the chapter on that same day. I'm quite happy with the final result, but I might be tripping here. Anyhow, hope you enjoy it!


Scala ad Caelum

Chapter 23: Partners for Christmas

Shana POV

Monday 28th December 1992 (Kiev, Ukraine) - Early night

In her short but intense life, Shana had done loads of crazy things. If someone were to ask her about the worst of them, she would have answered, without any doubts, that joining the Order of Merlin to betray them after five years of peace was the cherry on the cake.

That would have been her answer two months ago.

Now, the red-haired witch had learned that every new day was the perfect one to surpass her idiocy. After all, who the hell was mad enough to try tracking down an unknown man across the world? On top of that, basing her investigation on some stupid vision...

Well, she was that stupid person.

At least, people sure know how to drink here, the young woman grimaced. Shana was sat in the bar of some third rate pub, lost in the middle of magical Kiev; with a nice glass of vodka to celebrate the festivities. To be fair, it was more of an empty glass by now. She had never been good at handling her drinks, especially when she was so fed up with everything.

The bartender approached her for the third time in the night. He was a clever bastard who knew his profession, or so Shana liked to think; it was either that or the fact he considered her to be a drunkard. "You another drink?" The man asked, trying to communicate with her as best as he could.

"Nope," Shana refused, sliding the glass she had just finished through the damped table. She hated to admit it, but she was completely lost in Ukraine. An unknown language; a different behaviour from the people; a very complicated suburb to move through… Hell, she couldn't even understand a single one of the many conversations which were taking place around her.

The worst of it was that she could hear them very clear. Shana was not burning tin to increase her senses, but thanks to abusing the metal in the past, her hearing—along with the other four senses—was more developed than it should be; both for the better and for the worse.

Come on, I know you are a suspicious bastard, make your god damn move! The witch had an objective for the night: a wizard who seemed to share the same purpose as her; to look around the place for someone or something, just as he had been doing for the past days. At that moment, he was sitting at the other end of the tavern, hiding his face under a grey cloak that did not prevent his dark hair from falling over his forehead.

Could that man be related in any way to the wizard who was accompanied by the Essentia? Probably not, but it was not as if she had a better thing to do. From the few glimpses she had caught of the said suspect, she knew he was a young man, maybe a few years older than her. What caught her attention the most was his permanent, angry grimace, which along with a very greasy hair, did not give the man the best of the looks.

Shana sighed with frustration. The liquor was starting to reach her head, and the pub's ambient was not helping to fight it. In another country, she might have been able to hear the many stories the clients were telling their companions to distract herself; the amount of precious information she was missing!

At first, paying attention to everything was more of a duty; the more information she had of her surroundings, the safest for her and the better for her special skills. But with the mastery of her illusions, the need turned into a way of life. Why cage herself in her life when she could experience many fragments from other people's lives?

Snap out of it, Shana, this is the last time you drink vodka, the witch ordered herself. To clear her mind a bit, she took off the hood that was covering her red locks. An action which made the men sitting at both of her sides look at her with keen eyes. Yo, you two better stop staring at me right now. I don't want to scrub your faces against the table.

There were two possible reasons for their intense gazes: the first one, and the less disgusting, was because of the gruesome scar which covered the entire left side of her face; the second, was because they were two pervs who wanted to do funny business with her.

Fortunately, both for her sake and theirs, the man Shana was following made his way out of the pub. She was quick to follow, only stopping a moment to drop six golden galleons on the bar. Then, not waiting to see the bartender's reaction, she got out of the tavern, the frozen air of the night hitting her right in the face. Ah, fresh air! How I've missed you!

The wizard, wearing full grey robes, turned the corner and kept walking. I don't like the direction he's talking. Could he already know that I'm following him? If that was the case, whoever the man turned out to be, he was good and skilled with magic. It did not have to mean that he was powerful, but it was often better to be the first rather than the latter.

In a few seconds, Shana came up with an emergency plan if needed. The lad I observed yesterday will do. He had big ears and a long nose, but perfect teeth, though. She was restraining her magic to a minimum, but there was no way to conceive her presence from a skilled wizard unless she completely shut her magical aura down. Not as if it mattered since it was an impossible move to pull out at that moment; unless she wanted for the wizard to know there was someone following him with not so good intentions, of course.

Besides, she was not so courteous to tell him such valuable information.

The man kept turning corner after corner, walking down through the many narrow alleys. If he speaks to me first in a language I don't know, I'm answering in horrible English. I need to remember people here have a strong accent. Actually, I will do that no matter the language he uses. But even preparing herself for the possible confrontation, the witch was barely able to react when the man's wand appeared through the last corner he had turned.

He had baited her.

However, when the wizard's scowling face looked at her dead in the eyes, Shana was gone. There, standing in her place, was a young, Ukrainian wizard who wanted to sell some drugs. "I friend, I friend," she cried, trying to put as much fear in his now rough voice as she could. Her vocal cords hated impersonating grown men, but it was time to endure it.

"What do you want, bastard," the wizard threatened her, grabbing the fake man by the neck of her robes. Since there were no illusions covering her robes, the witch did not have to fear being discovered thanks to that. Still, the wizard must have realized the young man he was almost lifting from the ground was a bit too light for his complexion.

Shite, he's too close… I need to be perfect here. If she had to name a weak point of her illusions, that was when people got close to them. At that moment, with her robes being grabbed and a pair of cold eyes looking down at her, the witch needed to recreate perfect facial gestures every time she talked or did anything.

"I friend, I friend!" Shana repeated, raising her arms in the air as a sign of peace. My lip needs to tremble a bit, and I can't forget about dilating my pupil… Also, if I'm supposed to sell drugs, might as well give my jaw a bit of trembling. The witch felt how the man started to sound out her mental barriers. Come one, you gotta be kidding! Bloody legilimency now!

In a flash, she recreated various fake memories to trick the wizard. Yeah, what do you think about my boring life? Look at how my boss threatened me to sell this drug. Now, get some glimpses of my friends and girlfriend… The wizard was moving very swiftly through the most superficial layers of her mind; he was a master of the art. Had she not been a very experienced witch, the intrusion would have gone unnoticed. Such was the level of this wizard.

Unfortunately for him, Shana had trained with people who could shame him for years. The Mental Arts were tricky and hard to master, even if those kinds of subtle searches—like the one he was performing—were not the most difficult move.

When invading another person's mind, there were two ways to go.

The violent one, in which there was no fear of retribution, was used when a wizard invaded a mind by storming through it. Most of the time, when there was some memory or thought of interest and a notable difference in power between the two persons. Then, there was the subtle way, in which a wizard used emotions such as fear or anger in his favour. It was her personal favourite, mainly because it could be used in many situations to get precious information from other people without them realising their mind was under a very subtle assault.

In that particular situation, Shana was supposed to be a scared man whose life was in danger. Her thoughts needed to be about the wizard's loved ones or trying to come up with a way to free herself from his captors' hands. "Look, look," Shana almost cried, getting a little bundle out of her robes with trembling hands. "You want? I money, you this!"

The wizard looked down at the transparent bundle, which contained a few grams of pink-dyeing snow. "Good shit," Shana tried to smile at him, nodding her head fervently. "Pink cocaine! Best here!"

"Get out of my sight and don't follow me ever again," the wizard hissed, throwing her to the ground with a hateful look.

"Sorry! Yes, yes!" Shana said as some fake tears fell down her also fake face.

As soon as she was out of the wizard's sight, the witch crossed a few alleys in seconds thanks to her augmented physical capacities; blessed be her allomancy! Shana kept spriting until she thought it was safe and far enough from that mysterious wizard. Then, her allomantic core started to burn iron so she could pull from nearby metal sources. In this case, from one located at the roof of the apartments in front of her; in which the pub she had been drinking that night was located at the lower level.

Since the source of metal seemed to be embedded on the roof, Shana was pulled towards it, an action that allowed her to 'fly' upwards. There, in the safety of the high place, the witch allowed herself to finally smirk as she undid the illusions that had granted her another identity; rather happy with how the night had gone. "Let's see what do we have here," she hummed at the tune of the loud music from the pub below her feet.

Shana pulled out an identification card from the hidden pocket of her robes' sleeve. 'Severus Snape, citizen under the protection and responsibility of the British Ministry of Magic,' was written with golden letters over the black card.

Well, I don't know who the hell you are or what are you doing here, Severus, but sorry about stealing your ID, the witch thought. Ah, it was a fun night, but completely useless in the end. Guess I'll have to investigate that other suspicious guy, the one who was hiding at the abandoned, muggle house. As she observed the many people enjoying the festivities from atop, another thought came to her mind. This is the last time I drink during a mission. It made everything way more exciting, but I'm not the cleverest person with a few drinks on me…


Severus Snape POV

Wednesday 30th December 1992 (Kiev, Ukraine) - Early night

It was not his style, but Severus was about to risk it all to one play.

He had been wandering around the city for two days and he was already so fed up with everything; hell, a drug addict even managed to steal his identification card! Why did he propose himself for the mission was something the man still did not know. Well, he knew it very well, but it was easier to deny it rather than acknowledging how his emotions got the worst of him.

Severus just wanted to find one of the two men he was hunting down; either Pettigrew or the mysterious man who had been helping the Dark Lord from the shadows. For that, he had no other way but to contact some of his old sources from his time as a Death Eater. Those were the levels of danger he was ready to face to fulfil his need for revenge and bloodlust.

Even if he hated to admit it, he and Peter were very similar in the way the two of them had avoided death by betraying the Dark Lord at the appropriate moment. Furthermore, none of their old comrades knew about it. It was the only point in his favour to get some of his old sources to help him.

Severus knocked five times on the wooden door. "Who shall rule the world?" A voice asked from behind it.

"Our great saviour, the Dark Lord," the Professor answered with a dead voice. "He, who shall bring prosperity to the great and mighty magical race." It did not matter how many years were to pass, some people would always be rotten; blessed be them! Otherwise, there was no way for him to take advantage of them.

The door was opened.

There, standing right in front of him, was a man whose name should be familiar; a lesser wizard who frequented most of the non-important meetings in War times. That being said, he was not worthy of the said recognition. "It was true, eh?" The man muttered, looking at Severus from head to toes. "I could not believe it when Jessica told me. Have you grown bored of that comfy chair of yours in Hogwarts, Severus Snape?"

"The reasons for my visit is not an information a man of your level is cut to know," the Professor hissed. Those men needed to be taught their place during the first interaction, otherwise, they might grow too arrogant or friendly. "Take me down so I can meet those sources Jessica talked to me about."

The man's furious growling reached his ears, but he just ignored it with ease; even that was not as pathetic as some of the students who had stepped into his classroom.

These kinds of 'nostalgic meetings' were a very common event within the old loyalist and allies of the Dark Lord in many countries; those who did not betray him or died before the War ended, of course. Back in England, the pureblood lords such as Malfoy, Bulstrode or Nott held the meetings in their own manors; hell, there even were some Ministry officials invited. But there, in Ukraine, those wizards who supported or incited the Dark Arts were persecuted by Aurors and Vigilantes equally.

It was true Severus did not have the best fame among his old comrades, despite that, it only took him a few letters and some incentives—such as a few very complex potions made by him—to get in touch with Jessica, a polish witch who supervised and led the net of former Death Eaters in eastern Europe. "I don't know who the hell are you talking about, but he should be around," the man's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

The only expression to describe the place would be 'clandestine manor'. These bastards do not care about being persecuted, eh? Luxurious lamps hanging by the ceiling, carpets of the highest quality on the floor, the scent of cigars and expensive liquor… It almost looked as if they wanted to be caught; 'look at me, look at how little I care about Aurors and Vigilantes,' the smiles spoke by themselves.

Severus walked around, eyeing the many faces in the place and looking for any dangers. The bartender held his gaze for a few seconds as he shook a cocktail; some drunk wizards played a card game with piles of galleons stacked on the table; then… was it the sound of a fight? It was the cheering that first alerted him, but now, after getting closer to a great hole in the middle of the place, the young man could appreciate the existence of a lower floor under them. There, he realized the many seats and standing people with views to some kind of ring.

Right below them, there were two shirtless men fighting against a grown centaur with their bare fists. What in the world is this madness? Severus could feel a bit of magic oozing from the fighter's bodies, yet, they fought as a muggle would do.

One of the wizards, the bulkier, dodged a kick from the creature. Meanwhile, the lankier man got one of the worst ideas Severus had ever seen: the madman jumped on top of the centaur and put the beast in a headlock! The public roared and clapped as the other fighter spurred them, after that, he sprinted towards the struggling creature and kicked it right in the front of his knee. With a loud crack, the joint went backwards and the centaur lost its balance.

"Madmen, aren't they?" A voice said from his left. It came from a blond, shaggy wizard, who was drinking some kind of sweet beverage in short sips as he leaned on the wooden handrail; if his smell did not trick him, it was rum. "You won't find such a pair in another place, the Kostlev cousins are unique."

His name should have also been familiar, that was the first thing Severus appreciated after looking at him. "Why are they doing that?" He asked, his gaze set on the fight below him.

"It wouldn't be a challenge if they could use magic," the blond wizard answered. "That is what they say, at least. Those two are always the main spectacle each night. They bring a lot of money thanks to the bets, so the people running these meetings let them do as they please with their antics."

"Do I know you of something?" Severus questioned him. It was true he looked a bit familiar, but the main reason behind the question was the man's appearance; he looked just as Jessica had described his informant.

"Nah, I don't think so," the man answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "I do know who you are, though. You were a far too important person for us to meet in the past, besides, I wasn't man enough to take the mark in the past. The name is Ivan Dolgov, by the way."

"Dolgov, eh?" Severus nodded. "Are you the man who is supposed to be my informant?"

"Depends," Dolgov replied. "What are you looking for? It is information or some kind of job for me to do? How much money are you willing to spend?"

"Cut the bullshit," Severus grunted. "I know how these deals work. I want information about one of these two men: the first one goes by the name of Peter Pettigrew, another familiar name within the old circle of the Dark Lord; for the second, I do not have a name, but he might be a solitary man whose objective could be related to restoring the old order of the Death Eaters."

A very subtle glint sparkled in the man's eyes. It was barely noticeable, but Severus did not hesitate to seize the opportunity. With the faintest of approaches, he tried to sound out the most superficial layers of Dolgov's mind. It was a very risky play, but he was desperate enough to give it a try. If the man were to catch him, well, Severus would probably need to fight his way out of the place, but if he did not, the Professor might be able to learn something helpful.

Not as if it mattered. His mind was securely locked; not a single involuntary thought was seeping through from it.

I should have expected it. Every bastard in this hell-hole must have their fair share of dark deeds. However, he was not caught, so the conversation could continue as normal as before.

"Why do you need that information?" Dolgov asked, his eyes now focused on the fight.

"I want to kill them," Severus answered with crude honesty. Meanwhile, the centaur limped away from the fighters, who were barking at each other in a frenzy; since it was an unknown language, the young man assumed it was Ukrainian.

"So, it is revenge, eh?" Dolgov smiled in understanding. "The noblest and most ancient of the motivations."

For some time, the two men just observed the bloody spectacle which was being showcased to the whole hall. Those Kostlevs were freaks of nature; both in attitude and madness. With a very precise kick, the centaur hit the bulkier cousin right on his ribcage. There was a very loud cracking—surely, along with some broken bones—and the man was sent rolling backwards. Much to Severus' amazement, he got up like nothing and cracked a very loud guffaw, spatting a bit of blood in the process.

"I know what you are thinking right now," Dolgov piped in. "But no, he doesn't have any numbing potion in his circulation. The bastard has been hit so many times his body doesn't feel pain anymore, or so it is said."

The skinnier cousin, much quicker on his feet, could dodge a few kicks and punches from the creature; it almost gave the impression of him dancing a very frenetic war dance rather than fighting. Then, when the centaur tried to retreat, the quick bastard lunged forward with no hesitation. There was a rain of dark-red blood. Kostlev had gotten a knife out of nowhere and sliced open the beast's arm; probably, the humeral artery had been sectioned.

"What is your answer?" Severus asked.

"Depends on how much money are you willing to spend," Dolgov replied.

The fight was practically over, and the spectators knew it. Some of them cheered at the winners, others lamented the money they had lost, while a minority of them were such spineless cowards who could not see how the Kostlev cousins finished the beast in a rather 'enthusiastic' way; as if they had not bet a lot of money in the fight.

"That is up to the information you can provide me with," Severus snorted, quite humourless.

"I want twenty thousand galleons," Dolgov stated, not doubting for a second.

"Do you want me to kill you right now?" Severus grunted. "I can do it for free."

"I know where Pettigrew is."

That was a statement he was not ready to hear, especially, with such a confident tone. "How can I trust you?" Severus asked, now looking at the man with seriousness. "How can I know you are not going to trick me and run away with my money?"

"Even if I could do that, Jessica would still kill me," Dolgov smiled at the idea. "That woman is important, my new friend. News of my betrayal will reach her ears sooner than later. She vouched for me as a trustful informant for you, her client. If I betray you, I betray her; simple as that."

"I can get you the money in a few hours, can you get me Pettegrew for tonight?"

"No, that is impossible. However, I can tell he won't move from his spot for a few days, so we have plenty of time. If we are doing this, we are doing it my way. There are a few problems that could turn out to be our end, but that won't happen if you let me work first. As soon as I have the money, of course."

Severus thought about the plan for some seconds. He knew it was almost impossible for the man to betray him thanks to the deal he made with Jessica. Despite that, it was those words of him about those problems that worried him the most. We suspected Pettigrew being accompanied by the man who freed him. There is a very high chance for the said wizard to be the same one who helped the Dark Lord to possess Quirrell and the one who has been helping him for a long time. Severus could kill two birds with one spell. Was it dangerous enough for him to back away?

Hell no.

He was going to find those two bastards and wipe them out from this planet. Them being alive meant Lily's death had been in vain. Severus would never allow that to happen. It was the less he could do to expire his blame.

"Done," Severus nodded. "I do not care how much time it takes, if it will get me to Pettigrew, I do not have any objections. Money is not a problem for me either, so you will not have to worry about me deceiving you with fake galleons. I am ready to swear an Unbreakable Vow if needed."

"That is what I call determination," Dolgov whistled, looking quite impressed. "It is personal, eh? But do not worry, there is no need to swear such a dangerous vow. Just as I am under Jessica's responsibility as an informant, you are as a client. If one of us breaks his part of the deal, we will be hunted down by her men. This is a dangerous business, so the few people who are willing to get in it must be ready to face the consequences."

"Perfect," Severus nodded once again. "Do not fail me, Ivan Dolgov. You have no idea of how much this hunt means to me. Whoever of whatever stands in my way, it will be destroyed."

With a last nod of his head, the blond wizard made his way to the exit. Severus observed the dead centaur below him as he twisted his wand between his fingers. It was so close! He could almost see Peter's scared face in front of him! His heart started to beat faster, but he shut it down by relaxing his body and mind after taking a long gulp of air. I can't let emotions get the worst of me. This still is a very dangerous situation. If I want to make justice for Lily, I need to be cold-minded. You better enjoy your last day, Peter, I'm coming for you…


Shana POV

Thursday 30th December 1992 (Kiev, Ukraine) - Middle of the day

Umpteenth time is the charm, or so it is said, Shana sighed. At least, that was all she needed to hear right now. It did not even matter if the person she had been observing for the past weeks was a bit disappointing, he needed to be the one; her mental health relied on it.

A wizard who looked to be scared twenty-four hours a day. That was her hope.

Since the wizard was locked in a house for hours after hours, the very few times Shana could catch a glimpse of him were those in which the man eyes' stuck out from the little window's slit. Quite a pathetic sight, if someone were to ask her. Still, it was so obvious the man was hiding something, and that made him an objective to analyze.

He, along with that man by the name of Severus Snape, had been her two main suspects to observe for some time. The latter one had been discarded yesterday, but now it was the time for the other wizard.

"Well, I should give it a try," Shana said to herself. It was a very silly plan, but she was bored to death and the man did not look as if he needed to move until the muggles came from wherever they were. "If the bastard doesn't have any reason to move, I'll give him one."

The man had chosen a very peaceful area in the Ukrainian capital: a very decent urbanization of semi-attached houses. He might have been a coward, but he was not stupid. Shana grabbed her empty suitcases and walked towards the house following a stony path that stood out in a sea of grass. It was such a nice day—by the winter's standards, of course—that she almost dropped everything to lie on the ground and enjoy the rays of the sun.

It was a shame she had a job to do.

Shana introduced a fake key in the entrance door's keyhole. With a very satisfying click, the witch found herself inside the chalet. "Ah, it feels so good to be back at home!" She exclaimed. It was far from being perfect Ukrainian, but since the man looked to be just as a foreigner as she was, it fulfilled its purpose.

Had Lawrence of any other of her past teachers been there, they would be tugging from her ear rather strongly. The skill of improvising plans and original ideas was a very nice resource to have, still, what Shana did was play with fire. It was just another of her bets; if it turned out well, good for her; if it did not, it would be the time to improvise an exit plan.

Just another day in her life.

During one of the very few times the wizard got out of the house in the past week, Shana made her way inside to analyze as much as she could. There, she found what she had been suspecting. Everything looked as it should, and that meant the wizard was waiting for the muggle family to come back home to flee away. Either because he was being persecuted or due to another reason, that man did not want to be found.

By expanding her magical aura, the witch performed a quick scanning of the whole house; there was no other source of magic but hers. This wizard has quick thinking for hiding, eh? Even if she was announcing her presence in a rather blatantly way, her disguise as the muggle resident was not in danger.

If the man wanted to fully conceive his presence from her, he would need to shut his magic down completely, and that meant that it was impossible for him to identify her as a witch. It was her first bet; the main premise of her silly plan. Still, it had a very strong foundation behind it. After all, cowards always thought of the worst-case scenario; for the said wizard, that meant to think his pursuers had finally found him.

Having all those things in mind, the way he had conceived his presence left her very perplexed. There were no flaws in his technique.

Shana burned a bit of tin to increase her senses, but there were no weird sounds. She grabbed the suitcases and made her way upstairs with a tired sigh. At that moment, the former Master was gone, in her place, there was an elderly lady who had just retired from work; it was so obvious her old bones would be tired after a long trip.

The witch paid attention to every detail, but there was no trace of the man. Not in the corridor, not in the main bedroom, and neither in the bathroom. Where the hell is that bastard? Shana thought as she hang some clothes in the wardrobe. I've looked into every corner, opened every door and checked every level. Is he a half-ghost or something like that? She knew the said hybrid did not exist, but her inner freak would pay a good sum of money to see it.

Shana did not really care about finding him, truth to be told. If he was discovered, she could interrogate him about his doings and reasons to hide. If not, she would make him leave the house so he could be tracked to his real important site, if there was any. However, none of that would be possible unless the man stopped being so good at hiding.

Had it not been thanks to her enhanced senses, the faint footsteps coming from the corridor would have gone unnoticed. Her response was automatic. Not waiting for a second, the witch silenced her steps as she cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself. Shana was ready to find a retreating man going downstairs, but the only thing she found was… "Is that a rat?" She whispered, completely shocked for a moment.

Her brain was a bit too slow, but the idea came to her mind as the rodent escaped through the open door. The coward wizard was an animagus! "How poetic," Shana snorted as she made her way outside, jumping down the whole staircase with a calculated jump. "This wizard really found his perfect transformation!"

As soon as the sun hit her in the face, she decreased the tin she was burning; it would be no fun to become blind so young. It took her a few seconds to recover, but by the time she opened her eyes, the rat was at the other end of the street. Damn, this man sure knows how to run! Shana sprinted after him, still invisible, and turned corner after corner. Soon enough, they left the beautiful urbanization and stormed into a crowded road.

The witch jumped over a car that almost run over her. Eh, eyes on the road! How the driver was supposed to see an invisible woman was something she did not think about. After all, she was not used to pursuing rats, so all her attention was put on the task.

Even though the wizard did not know about Shana going after him, he ran as if he was aware of it. Due to the great mobility the animagus form allowed him, he almost managed to get rid of her a few times. Thankfully for the witch, this was a rich area of the city's outskirts, so there were not many obstacles in her way; just a few cars driving through the road and some families enjoying the nice day by walking around.

The pavement felt nice under her boots. Her right hand was hovering over her eyes to protect them from the sun, despite that, the wizard remained all the time under her gaze. Some young couples jumped away from it—with disgusting cries—when the rat ran by their side on the sidewalk; in fact, Shana could not suppress a snickering when a young man tried to kick the hell out of the animagus to get it away from her girlfriend.

Then, after more than five minutes of persecution, the rat got into a school by going under the bars of the main entrance. It was about time! Shana jumped above the grilles and landed gracefully on the basketball court. Wand ready on her hand if needed, the witch advanced through the playground, her eyes watchful of the slightest movements.

The signal came in the form of a sound. The one of a man trying to regain his breath, to be exact. It was an automatic response, but Shana broke her Disillusionment Charm and shut her magical aura down in an instant. Now that the wizard was in his human form again, there was a chance of him being skilled enough to feel her. Besides, if things went downhill, she still had her allomancy.

"What the hell is that woman doing in this city," the man cursed between ragged breaths. "She wasn't supposed to be here for another week!"

Shana leaned out a corner and observed the man, who was drinking water from a fountain quite avidly. It was a pathetic sight. Maybe, that had been his appearance since he was born, or maybe, it was a trait his animal form had given him. A short, ugly and famished man could not represent a danger to her. Even if she had been quite astonished by his survival skills, a simple look was all she needed to know how little of a threat the wizard was.

However, there was something very curious about him. He speaks perfect English, eh? Another citizen of England like that Severus Snape… Could this man be running from him? It was a very good hypothesis, but Shana did not care about it. What she needed were answers about that man accompanied by the Essentia.

"What am I supposed to do now?" The wizard kept cursing. "I wasn't supposed to meet with Ashram until that day… He is going to punish me again…"

A name was always a very valuable piece of information, but there, it was not the most important one. It was the shivering that had accompanied those words; whoever Ashram was, he or she was feared by this wizard. Should I go all-in with this man? Most probably, it would turn out to be a waste of time, just like the many other times in these past months. Still, she needed results before Isaac could get the Horcrux.

For that, Shana needed to take risky bets.

The witch jumped on the spot and clung to the gym's roof, about seven metres above from where the animagus was now walking. "What should I do?" He kept asking to the air, in some sort of trance. "What should I do? I can't be seen… Ashram will get mad at me… What should I do?"

Merlin, whatever you are gonna do, you better do it quickly. She had never been the most patient woman, but this search was getting the worst out of her. There, hanging above the wizard, with her magic completely shut down and using her allomancy, Shana questioned herself for the hundredth time in the week. Elend would have found that man by now, but I am not as capable as him. That is why I am here; because he is the one to carry out the most difficult task while I can do another thing but losing time in many different countries…

It was time to go all-in.

A bit of her magic was ignited like a candle wick. Her assault on the wizard's mind began. Shana needed to be very subtle and careful in her approach, so the first contact was just a mild caress. However, the witch only needed five seconds to understand that there was no need to be so prudent.

The wizard's mind was a complete shambles.

A storm of thoughts and memories struck her with the might of a lighting bolt. It was true his mental state was not as bad as some of the mentally-ill persons Shana had practised her mental arts with in the past. Still, he was not in a state of sound mind.

The strongest memory was the one in which a group of four young wizards—wearing school robes—wandered around some lake, heading towards a very magnificent castle. Next came a sombrer one, the wizard was surrounded by a group of cloaked figures, all of them wearing black tunics and golden masks; Shana might have not seen them in person, but she had heard many tales about the Death Eaters to recognize them and their uniforms with ease.

Then, after a very complex process of filtering, she found a treasure. It hit her so hard that she almost lost her grab on the tile. There, drinking a bowl of soup under the warmth of a campfire, was the man Shana had been tracking down for months. He was a bit different from the man in her vision, maybe it was due to a shaggy beard or because he no longer had his hair combed backwards; but it was him.

I can't believe this stroke of luck… For the first time since Elend assigned her the task, Shana thought she could fulfil it. In fact, her spirits were so raised that she decided to push her fortune one last time. It's been ages since I last did this, but fuck it, I need to find that wizard. The red-haired woman pointed her hand at the frenzied wizard. "You need to see that man," she whispered, allowing her magic to flow at the man below her. "You will feel safe that way… It is the only option you have left…"

The technique of Magical Transmutation was the skill to use magic, totally fueled by emotions, for different purposes. In this case, the former Master tried to imbue her objective with the hope of being safe as soon as he met with the other shady wizard, at the same time as she made him fearful and wary of the other options.

The amount of magic needed to do that was way higher than the required for the Mental Arts—increasing the chances of being discovered quite absurdly—but since the animagus did not seem to be right on his head, she had decided to push him to his limits. Shana was not playing with fire anymore, it was an entire volcano by now; but hell if it did not feel well!

Something seemed to snap on the wizard, who was now shivering uncontrollably. He kicked a little bottle of plastic with force and massaged his temples with both hands. "Calm the heck down, you moron," he said to himself. "This is nothing. You've escaped from England when all the Aurors were on maximum alert… Yeah, I'm sure Ashram will understand the complications…"

So there are British Aurors after this man, eh? A year ago, news about an incredible scandal in England reached his ears; well, it reached the ears of every single wizard on the planet, but that was another topic. From what she knew, the man below her could be the Death Eater who faked his death and tricked an entire country for ten years. If she remembered correctly, his name was Peter something.

Not as if she had time to ponder about it. The man turned into a rat out of a sudden and started to run towards the exit. Shana pointed her finger at the small creature—like muggle children used to do when they pretended to be shooting a gun—and sent a minuscule ball of raw magic to him. It made an impact, connecting a very subtle threat of magic between the two of them.

"I hope he does not realize about it," Shana grimaced as she jumped down from her spot, her fingers aching quite a bit due to all the time keeping the strong grip. "I did it as a subtle as I could, but if the bastard tries to feel the magic around him, he will notice it." The witch started to run after the animal, now back under a Disillusionment Charm since she no longer care about being discovered thanks to it. "Whatever, you better take me to that man, Peter. I might lose my mind if you also fail me!"

Just like that, her silent hunt began


Severus Snape POV.

Sunday 2nd January 1993 (Ukraine) - Early morning

A new year had begun, but Severus' resolutions did not change with it. One way or another, Pettigrew would be under his wand by the end of the day.

It was a very cold morning, worse than those of Britain. There were many ice stalactites hanging from the trees, and even the forest's smell seemed to be gone due to the frozen ambient. His gloved hands tightened the grip on his wand as the young man exhaled a long breath, the air coming out visible from his mouth in a cloud of steam.

"It is not far from here," Dolgov let him know, leading the way a few steps in front of him.

"Good," Severus said.

He did not trust the man, but it might be his only chance to finally find Pettigrew. The young Professor knew very well what would be the fate of his old schoolmate, the real question was if he could restrain himself enough to get some answers out of the rat. Lily was right about me. I'm just another cruel bastard like Avery or Mulciber. Up to that day, those words still hunted him. How could they not? After all, they were the words that ended their friendship.

Today, those words also fueled him. Severus was a cruel monster, one who committed many mistakes and atrocities in the past, but if those dark deeds had allowed him to reach a high level of magical mastery, enough to punish those who caused Lily's death, welcomed be them.

Each step he took ignited his determination, the sound of the frozen leaves breaking under his feet plunging him into a trace. Albus wanted him to capture Pettigrew alive—if possible, the other wizard too—but the old man was not there to stop him. In battle, there are plenty of accidents and miscalculations, the young man smirked. Oh, he could not wait to see the rat's scared face in front of him. That time, there would be no Ministry to ruin everything.

"It did not matter how many times or people I asked about Pettigrew," Severus started. "None had the answers I was looking for. Not even Jessica knew about it. It is true she opened the way for me to meet you, but there weren't any guaranteed results on that. I do not trust you, Ivan Dolgov. Why do you know with so much precision the location of a bastard who managed to escape from an entire country and hundreds of bounty-hunters?"

Severus was not expecting any answers from the man, it was the way those deals worked: no words and loads of money. That was the reason why he raised a brow in surprise when the Russian answered. "From what I've heard about Severus Snape, you are quite the intelligent man," Dolgov replied, his gaze set on the road they were following. "Don't you have any guesses?"

Of course he had; plenty of them, to be exact.

"Does the name Artem Ganeev sound familiar to you?" Dolgov asked, not waiting for his response.

"Should it?" Severus replied. To be honest, it did ring some bells in his head, just like many other names had done in the past days. That was what years of peace made to his memories and connections; good riddance, if someone were to ask him.

"I don't know," the Russian snorted. "He wasn't the most important of the soldiers in the Dark Lord army, but neither he was a lesser wizard. A bit too enthusiastic about his role in everything, I should add."

"Where are you trying to get with all of this?"

"You asked me something," Dolgov answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "I'm answering it."

"Then, elaborate."

"He was one of my best friends since we were eleven. Back when we were studying at Koldovstoresz, we just were a group of five friends with hopes and dreams of joining the new and so-called Dark Lord. Why did it have to be us wizards, the superior race, the ones to hide from muggles? Up to this day, that question stills lingers in my mind from time to time. However, I'm not that silly boy with dreams of greatness anymore. Nowadays, I'm just another Auror who works for the Russian Ministry to earn a living."

"Your point is?"

"Hmpf," Dolgov huffed, quite indignant. "You want the whole story served in a silver plate or what?" Still, the man went on. "Among the five of us, Artem was the one to look up to the Dark Lord the most. Hell, not even death could change that; in fact, his admiration for that monster only seemed to grow. Well, back to the important matter, Artem contacted me this summer to see if I could help him with a problem he had. I said yes, after all, he was a good friend of mine. I travelled to the meeting point, and there, the mad bastard told me that he was searching for the Dark Lord, can you believe it?"

"I played along, of course," the Russian continued. "But there was one moment that made me realize something; my friend had lost his head! To be exact, it was the moment when Artem told me about his change of identity. Long gone was the man I befriended at school, who stood in front of me was a man by the name of Ashram, whose destiny was to allow the Dark Lord to purify magic! Can you believe it?"

Severus could definitely believe it.

After hearing the tale, a shiver went down his spine. Ashram, that must be the name of the wizard who freed Pettigrew and attacked Quirrell. It was very welcomed information, but it did not answer his question, and the Professor let the other wizard know about it. "I think that is an unfinished story, isn't it?"

"You didn't let me finish," Dolgov complained. "Besides, I'm talking more than usual to make the walk a bit more pleasant. Whatever, the thing is when I met with Artem, there was another wizard with him. At first, I didn't know who he was. But after a few days, the answer came to my mind. I had seen that face in enough posters and newspapers to recognise it."

"Your friend is the man who freed Pettigrew," Severus piped in, his grip on his wand tightening. A question had been answered, but now, there was another one taking its place: if those two men had been friends for so many years, why was he betraying this so-called madman? Could it be a trap to lure him?

Before the young Professor could expand his magical aura to check his surroundings, Dolgov take word. "Don't worry about me betraying you," the man told him. On the surface, those words did not sound like a lie. "It is Artem the one I'm going to betray today."

That was a revelation, indeed.

"I'm a very simple man," the Russian kept talking. "I just want to live a very comfortable life without the need to work for it. Your twenty thousand galleons and some debts I have yet to collect will allow my days to be that way. Besides, Artem, my old friend, is long gone. That man, Ashram, is a stranger to me; one too blinded by his faith in some dead man."

"I see," Severus nodded in understanding. Despite his young age, he had met plenty of liars and ambitious men. Ivan Dolgov did not look to belong in either of the two groups. If telling his partner the truth could facilitate his objective of living an easy life, he would do it with no second thought.

The walk resumed in silence, each wizard lost in his mind.

Severus was salivating more than usual, but how could he not? Each step he took got him closer to Pettigrew. It was a miracle he had not told the Auror to apparate them in the meeting point yet. "We are getting close," Dolgov announced. He ceased his walking and raised a hand to stop him. "It is time for the delicate part of the plan. I've tried to trick Artem into meeting me in another place so we could have a free path to that coward, but he is a very clever man, so we need to proceed with caution."

"What is your plan?" Severus questioned.

"I want you to completely shut your magic down and hide behind the thicket while I fake the encounter," Dolgov explained. "Pettigrew might be weak and coward, but he is a survivor. If he suspects anything to be wrong with Artem far from here, he will panic. Since I am one of his sources of information and a kinda trustworthy person, I know the location of their meeting point in case I had something to tell them. I will act like that, and once I know with certainty that Artem isn't here, he is all yours."

It was not perfect, but it was good. "Okay," Severus nodded. "Don't play any stupid games, Dolgov. I will be keeping a close watch on you until I have Pettigrew begging for mercy under my wand."

The man ignored him and resumed his way, walking through a barely visible track, which had been erased by the erosion of the continuous freezings of the winter. With the last pessimist thought, Severus shut his magic down. It had been a long time since he last did it, but he felt as naked as ever. He still trusted in his instincts and quick reaction if problems were to come, of course, but even the weather felt colder without the reassuring presence of his magic going down his body.

The face of Lily returned to his mind once again.

He often found resilience to move forward with that thought. It was the only thing strong enough to remind him daily that she needed to be avenged. She would hate him for that, there was no doubt about it. Lily was too good of a person for this shitty and cruel world. Because of that, she was dead, and only scum like him was cursed to survive with their failures and sins.

"Snap out of it," Severus mumbled. In these moments, he needed to keep a cold mind. He would relinquish in those dark thoughts of vengeance when the rat was to be screaming for mercy.

He had been so lost in his mind, that he was left completely frozen as soon as he heard the voice. "I-Ivan, what a-are you doing here?" Pettigrew asked with a trembling voice. It was the same repulsive stuttering as it had been during their years at Hogwarts. Finally, after a bit less than a year, he was able to hear it once again.

"I have information for Artem, isn't he here?" Dolgov asked. He was a good actor, that was a fact.

"N-no?" Pettigrew replied with confusion. "I thought that he…, well, that you two had agreed to met in o-other place…"

"I see," the Russian wizard left the words hanging in the air. "Then, I guess we can proceed as planned."

He did not need to tell him to come out of his hiding place. Severus' legs decided it was the moment for it.

For many hours the Professor had been preparing himself to act in case of the rat escaping, but with a simple look eye to eye, he knew he had worried in vain. How could that coward escape when he almost fainted as soon as Severus stepped into the clearing? Even the most pristine marble could be described as colourful when comparing it with his face.

It only fueled his mirth.

"Hello, Peter," Severus greeted him with a huge smirk on his face. It had been a long time since he was so happy. "Long time no see, eh?"

For a moment, the animagus' eyes rolled to the back of his head, but he regained composure with a full-body tremble. Pettigrew jumped up from the log he was using as a seat and stood there, under the shadow of the fireplace, looking totally shocked.

"Don't bother," Dolgov piped in, sounding quite bored with the spectacle. "I placed some Anti-Animagus Wards during your tearful rencounter. While at it, I figured out I could facilitate things for my client. I want no remarks in my complaint form; it would be a bad way to retire from the underworld."

"W-What?" Pettigrew managed to say, his legs trembling violently. "W-Why are you…"

If he thought Severus would let him finish a single sentence, then, he was as foolish as he had ever been. The Cruciatus Curse impacted him right in the chest. Oh, how much I've dreamed of doing that, the Professor smiled as the man fell to the ground, his agonic cries breaking the cold silence of the clearing. His right hand trembled with pleasure. He had always been one of those wizards who thought that the Cruciatus needed to be cast wandless for maximum effect and joy; a wand would only get in the way.

"What did you say?" Severus asked the crying man, kicking him in the ribs so he could lay on his back. There was it. Those small, watery eyes were finally looking back at him.

"Please…" the man begged.

Severus could not help himself but laugh. How could that rat have the audacity to ask him to stop? For that, another Cruciatus went down his finger. The screams resumed after some seconds of pause.

A little part of him was telling his magic to stop. It was not the one Albus had been trying to create for many years, no, there was no room for pity and mercy here. It was his strategic and cold-minded part, the one who reached its peak back during his time as a Death Eater. We need answers. Severus shook his head and let the animagus breathe. "Tell me about the man who freed you," the Professor ordered, stepping on his neck to 'subtly' encourage him to talk.

"You are fucked up," Dolgov muttered not far from them. A sidelong glance from his client made the man shrug his shoulders and raise hands in the air, 'you can't blame me for thinking that,' his face seemed to say. The Russian took a seat in the log where the animagus had been before him and finished the sandwich the other man could not.

Severus rolled his eyes and put more of his weight on his foot. A pained grunt was all the answer he received; maybe, that rat had finally learnt what guts were. "Come on," the Professor urged. "Don't make me resume the torture. I don't know if I will be able to stop it for a second time."

"H-He… He will kill me," Pettigrew managed to say. As the pressure from the boot descended, he used that moment to take a long gulp of air.

"If so, I guess it is time to get serious," Severus smiled. "It was up to you, so don't blame me," he got his wand out from his sleeve and pointed it to the animagus. "Legilimens!" It had been a long time since he last went all out in another wizard's mind. Often, he performed subtle assaults on suspicious persons to get a bit of information about them. This time, there was none of that.

Much to his surprise, Pettigrew withstood it very well. "I see that friend of yours gave you some tips to develop your Occlumency, eh?" The Professor pointed out. "Well, this one is on him, then. Crucio!" As the pain went down his body, the animagus' mental barriers cracked a bit. It was everything Severus needed to get inside.

The memories of an entire year were stormed around him.

Severus found himself at the British Ministry, just in time to see how a blonde girl, with the Auror robes, stunned two of her companions. After that, both she and Pettigrew were in the company of a third wizard; it was the infamous Ashram, who was caressing the woman's cheek as he looked down at the animagus. Then came many journeys and days of travel around Europe; the Occlumency training; hiding at muggles' houses; meetings with shady people…

A presence appeared in the clearing.

His response was automatic. In an instant, Severus stepped back, wand ready at hand, and faced the intruder. From the corner of his eye, he appreciated how Dolgov jumped up from his seat, imitating his guarding stance. Even Pettigrew's whimperings were of no importance at that moment.

The wizard who went by the name of Ashram was there.

"I knew something was off when you contacted me, Ivan," the man said. There was no rage or sadness in his voice. Actually, it was completely devoid of emotion, and that settled Severus off. His appearance was different; dishevelled hair falling over his forehead and a messy beard instead of his usual neat looks. But it was him. "That is why I always try to work alone. Whatever, I knew this day could come, trusting you was a bet."

"It clearly came off badly," Severus piped in, his five senses focused on the mysterious enemy.

"Ah, look at you, Severus Snape in person," Ashram smiled at him. "It's been quite a while since I last saw you. Back then, we were on the same side. Pity, I really considered you to be a promising wizard." He paused for a moment to look at Dolgov. "Can't say the same about you, though; you never were competent enough to follow me."

"Neither was I mad enough," Dolgov replied, not losing the calm for an instant. "You said it yourself, but yeah, trusting me was a mistake. You knew both the benefits and risks of contacting me for help, Artem. Unlike you, I never changed."

"Yeah, I'm not bothered by that," Ashram dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "Still, I'm pretty furious right now. Who gave you permission to play with my dear friend Peter?" He clicked his tongue a few times. "Ah, I guess we will have to decide this the hard way."

Ashram raised his hand and some barely visible wave came from it.

Severus' first thought was to cast a shield, but his instinct told him otherwise. He fell to a knee and palmed the ground with force. A half-dome of pure rock materialized in front of him just in time to take the wave's impact. It was impossible to see through it, but he could feel that it was necessary to keep pouring magic into the natural shield.

After a few seconds, it stopped.

With a jump, the Professor got back on his feet and cut the shield in a half. The first thing he realized was that Pettigrew no longer was in front of him. Secondly, that Dolgov's Protego could not stop the wave of magic. The man was still standing on his legs, but his left arm—the bad one—looked as it was…, worn away, to say something. Below the forearm, the skin was totally peeled off; at some parts, the muscle could be seen, at others, it was the bone that stood out the most.

"Yep, my Erosion finds way easier to deteriorate raw magic rather than a ground shield," Ashram snickered. "What's up buddy? Are you having problems with that arm? Want me to end your suffering?"

"I'm going to kill you," Dolgov spat back, eyes about to pop out due to the rage and spat coming out of his mouth.

His mental state will kill him, Severus thought, his mind already considering every possibility for the upcoming battle. I've never seen a spell like that one… He named it Erosion, what a fitting name. He was about to attack, but the unexpected happened once again.

From above them, a red flash made its way towards Ashram. For an instant, the three wizards looked at it with surprised eyes. Mainly, because it was not a spell. It was a red-haired woman who had jumped down from a tree, her black robes creating the optic effect that had confused them.

With a flick of his wand, Ashram surrounded himself with a dozen of rock spines before the witch could touch him. To dodge that move, she, somehow, vired midair and landed in the space between Dolgov and Severus. "Fuck it," the mysterious woman cursed. "Why is everyone I've fought in the past months incredibly skilled? Where are the beginners on this planet?"


Shana POV

Her surprise attack had failed.

That bastard was good enough to react in time to stop her. It had not mattered the fact her magical aura had been completely shut down until the last moment. No, that wizard had to be good enough to counter her allomantic charge and cast a perfect defence before her wandless stunner could hit him. Blessed be her fortune!

"Who the hell are you?" The wizard named Ashram asked. Somehow, he did not sound very shocked.

"No one; really, don't mind me," Shana replied, drawing out her wand with a move of her wrist. "It is a long story, but I need to ask you some questions."

"Let me get this straight. You are telling me that your plan for that was to stun me?"

Well, if he put it that way, it may not have been her wisest decision. Still, it probably was the only way. "I didn't think you were going to answer them just because of my pretty face," Shana shrugged it off. The witch could feel two pairs of eyes glaring holes on her back. The one on the left is the wizard whom I stole his ID, his name was Severus Snape if I remember correctly. But I don't have any idea of who the second man is.

She also knew the British was a very skilled wizard in the field of Mental Arts, and that could be useful. Shana projected some of her thoughts towards him, hoping for the man to search her mind like he did that one time they met. I'm not your ally, but if you are going against this man, it works for me. I need him alive, though. Whether her improvised way of communication worked or not was something she would find out later.

To be exact, the moment a Killing Curse went past her shoulder. Oh, come on! I told you I needed him alive! Shana burned pewter, increasing her physical capacities, and moved away from the two wizards, who were exchanging pretty advanced spells one after the another. The witch conceived her presence and jumped upwards, getting atop a tree once again. There, she moved through the solid branches as she observed the battle below her.

The British wizard was on defence, mainly, because Ashram had used that strange spell of his—the Erosion—to turn the tables in his favour. Snape stepped back, again and again, raising shields of rock with each twist of his wand. As soon as the wave hit them, it was as if a thousand years of erosion made effect in one second. What kind of magic is that?

The other wizard, the Russian one, who had been tending his arm for an entire minute behind the safety of a mound, got out with a pained expression. "Caelesti Ignis!" He chanted with a thunderous roar. A sea of white flames was born from the tip of his wand, making their way towards Ashram, shattering the rain of spells with ease.

Woah, that is what I call an all-in! The firestorm enveloped their enemy and started to spin around him like a whirlwind. Her enhanced senses caught the familiar scent of burnt skin just before the fire was turned into ashes; a furious grunt echoing in the clearing.

"That was good, Ivan," Ashram said between ragged breaths. There was a layer of cinder covering his grey robes and black hair, and he was hiding his left hand, the burnt one, under his sleeve. "You always loved that spell the Headmaster taught us, eh? Son of a bitch, that hurt like hell!"

"An eye for an eye, motherfucker," the Russian answered, a dark smile forming on his face.

While the two old friends exchanged words, Shana jumped from one tree to another, using the thicket to cover her body. She needed the perfect opportunity to knock Ashram out. After that, she would worry about the other two wizards and their bloodlust. This is a three against one, but still, it has been far too easy. Life is never kind enough to me!

Sometimes—actually, most of the time—the witch hated how precise her hunches were.

"Seems like I'm both outclassed and outnumbered here," the voice of Ashram echoed below her.

A shiver went down her spine. It was time to end this battle before it could turn worse for her. Shana descended until she found a good spot to launch her attack: a thick branch with views to the entire battlefield. There, a metal coin ready in her hand and about to push against it, she felt that sensation after seven months.

The magic of an Essentia.

Ashram started to emit a very faint, red glow; particles of the said colour coming out from every inch of his body. He extended his left arm to the side. What? Is that Alazthi steel? Out of a cloud of red mist under his hand, the handle of a weapon was born. The fog went upwards following an invisible line, soon enough, a double-edged axe was completed; it emitted the same kind of particles as the wizard did.

"It sucks to grip it with my hurt hand, but pain is for the weak," the wizard smirked. His magical aura felt different. It was similar, but now, it gave her the impression of another aura being added to it; one very similar to Kayle's.

It was a decision taken in the spur of a moment, but Shana tossed the metal coin backwards, making it crash with the tree, and burned steel quite violently to push against the coin. At the same time, from the corner of her eye, the witch saw how Ashram swung his axe in the air.

She barely had time to pick the British wizard up before a magical slash severed everything on its way.

The two of them landed not far from the spot the man previously was. Shana looked at the man, fearing to see him shocked enough to not move in a while, but she was wrong; Severus Snape turned out to be a tough man. Sure, he looked surprised and even a bit scared, but there was a cold, calculative gleam in his eyes that could not be mistaken; that man really wanted to kill Ashram.

A sudden scream woke her up. Dolgov had not been as lucky as them.

Shana had felt how the man cast a very powerful shield to receive the slash. Now, the witch appreciated how futile his defence had been. The Russian's left arm and leg had been completely severed, even though there was no blood pouring out from the stumps. "Oh, what happened, my dear friend?" Ashram laughed out aloud, walking towards the kneeling man. "Do you want me to lend you a hand? Ha! Don't look at me with those teary eyes, I was just pulling your leg! Do you get it? Ha!"

Shana had seen unnumerable horrible things during her short life, but to see the cruelty of man joking around when he had just severed the limbs of an old friend turned her stomach.

"P-Please… Artem… S-Spare my life…" Dolgov begged. "W-We were… friends…"

"You said it yourself, dear Ivan," Ashram replied, raising the axe over his head. "We were friends." The shining weapon fell down. A severed head rolled through the ground. "Now, it is your time," the wizard stated, looking at his two remaining enemies.

"Who are you?" Snape asked, taking a battle stance.

"I am the Chosen One," Ashram answered. "The wizard who was born to restore the purity of magic; the purity who has been ruined by us, the magical race, for centuries! I shall bring the ways of the Ancient Wizards back! For that, I shall serve the prophet who was sent to us by Magic itself; Lord Voldemort will rise again to purge us from the unworthy!"

"You are barmy," Shana spat, drawing out her wand and sword. If that axe was made of Alazthi steel, then hers, which was made of Golbin steel, would face against it well enough. The witch turned to look at her unexpected ally. "What do you say, Severus Snape; partners for Christmas?"

"How the hell do you know my…" the man began. "Forget it, I don't care. I'm going to kill that man, and then, you will answer my questions."

"I don't really like mean men, but you will have to do," the witch said, just before running away from the clearing. The British wizard looked skilled enough to withstand an individual duel with Ashram; she would use that to find the perfect strike.

"Hey, I think this could be a good time to take control, Valkyrie," she tried to wake her counterpart up, but the only answer she got was a terrified whimper; just as the many other times she had tried since they lost against Jin. "Whatever, I will do it myself," Shana grunted.

Her head was already thinking about the many scenarios in which the battle could turn, but none of them had Ashram getting blast away in her direction. The wizard landed on his two feet, leaving their respective grooves on the ground as the sliding stopped the motion. Got you! Shana tried to stab the wizard in the back, but he was quick enough to turn around and parry her thrust with his axe; a metallic sound echoing around.

"That's a fine sword you have there, harlot," Ashram grunted, trying to use the advantage a bigger weapon gave him to slash her open in one go. Unfortunately, he was not an allomancer.

Her enhanced physique allowed her to push the axe away. Then, not giving him an instant to breathe, Shana tried to knock him out with a very precise hook, which was barely dodged by the man. I hate hand to hand combat! She spun around her pivot leg and used the inertia of the movement to hit the man with a rising kick. This time, her attack clashed against the iron handler of the axe, sending a shook of pain across her whole shin.

The wizard's wand, now pointed at her face, brightened with a green light. Shit! A storm of sharp, little rocks—resembling spearheads—made the man change his spell into a Blasting Curse, disintegrating the attack coming from his left side with a thunderous roar. It almost blew her eardrums away, but it also gave the witch enough time to fly away from Ashram.

Snape appeared from behind a tree, transfigurating the explosive fire into ashes with a very elegant flick of his wand. "Nulla Gravitatis!" The British chanted, not stopping the flick for an instant.

Nearly in slow motion, an area of five metres around Ashram was deprived of its gravity. Actually, it was more of a reversal force rather than completely negating it; after all, that force was a very difficult element to play around with for the wizards and witches. However, it fulfilled its purpose since the man was sent levitating at a very slow speed.

"Sectumsempra!" Snape kept chanting, his wand a blur in his hands. A rain of white sparks came out from its tip. Most of them were parried by their enemy by either his axe or wand. Still, there was one light that changed directions many times, using the levitating rocks and debris as cover. After a motion from the British's left hand, his curse found the target.

It hit Ashram right on the leg, but it was enough to make his trousers damped with blood in a few seconds. Woah! It didn't look deep, but that is some nasty bleeding! What kind of curse is that? Shana did not allow for the opportunity to slip. The former Master gathered a big amount of raw energy on the tip of her wand, and with incredible strength on her lower limbs, she used a thick tree to launch herself towards the area of null gravity. It was time to put that bastard to sleep.

For an instant, she saw a bit of fear in Ashram's eyes.

That was before he blasted everything away with an incredible explosion of raw magic. "Protego Maxima!" Shana chanted, just in time to receive the wave of ethereal-red magic with her milky-white barrier.

The witch did not know for how much time she spun around in the air, but the wind crashed against her back with force, so the speed had to be brutal. "Arresto Momentum!" She exclaimed, pointing both her wand and free hand backwards. It was a sudden stop, one accompanied by the natural freefall, but that was something she could manage.

Shana landed on her left foot, raising her wand and sword in front of her the moment it touched the ground. There was no trace of magic around her. "Shit, what a freaking mess," she cursed after scanning the area with her magical aura. "I can't let that man escape under any circumstances! I've been trying to track him down for months!"

It was the only thought she needed to move.

Her legs were in pain after the battle and the rough days without rest, still, her sprinting did not falter. Not even a minute after it, Shana made it to the battlefield, but there was no one there; just a pile of debris everywhere and loads of trees yanked from their roots. However, when the witch expanded her magical aura—to check if there was any trace of magic left behind by Ashram—she found a presence buried under the debris.

It belonged to the British wizard, and he seemed to be greatly weakened.

Well, at least, he is alive, Shana thought as she ran away from the place, drinking a vial of pewter while at it to replenish his reserves of the metal. Tomorrow would be another day with great muscular pain—maybe, enough to leave her bedrinned—but she needed the enhanced speed to fly away from the forest. If that wizard by name of Severus Snape were to free himself, he would search for her to ask those questions he promised—to be fair, it was more of a threat—that she would answer.

Agh, my life sucks. All the effort of the past days just to have that bastard blast me away to another country as if I was some little bird carried by a strong wind. Shana tried to use humour to cope with defeat a bit better, but deep inside her, she knew it was useless.

She had failed once again.


Well, as you must have realized by now, this is the first chapter without Ron or the canon storyline since the first one, but I wanted to dedicate a full chapter to both of these characters who are some of my favourite ones in the story.

That being said, see you soon!