The New Princess
Hogwarts Year 1 - Arc 3 - Part 1 - Chapter 31
Off to see the Guardians we go!
The Daily Prophet Special Report:
Hogwarts Under Youma Attack! Ministry's Guardians of Magic Save the Day!
By Gideon Finch, Senior Reporter, Daily Prophet
Yesterday, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the target of a terrifying attack by a Youma— an immensely powerful dark creature of ancient origin—that breached the school's formidable defences. The battle left the castle with significant structural damage and numerous injuries, including to the esteemed Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who narrowly escaped with his life. This shocking event has sparked urgent debates about the safety of Hogwarts and magical Britain as a whole . If even a place like Hogwarts is vulnerable, the pressing question remains: are we truly prepared to defend ourselves against this new and deadly Youma threat?
Fortunately, no lives were lost, and amidst these dark times, there is a glimmer of hope. In a bold and controversial move, Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, called upon the Guardians of Magic, a newly-formed elite group of witches dedicated to combating dark creatures, to assist in Hogwarts' direst hour. And assist they did! Using never-before-seen heroics only spoken of in legends and Children's fairy tales, these brave Guardians of the Light saved countless students and professors' lives. It is no exaggeration to say that we owe them the safety—and lives—of our children. This reporter believes that this debt can never be repaid.
Known as the Sailor Guardians, they had already proven their capabilities earlier this year during the mysterious incident in Diagon Alley, where the now famous Sailor Moon, revealed herself for the first time. Once again, they demonstrated their strength, not only defeating the Youma but ensuring the safety of every Hogwarts student. One shudders to imagine the catastrophe had these Guardians not arrived when they did.
In an emergency press conference, Minister Fudge formally praised the Sailor Guardians, calling them "our greatest defence" against the Youma threat. He stated, "While it's true they may have Muggle origins, these witches—and let there be no doubt that they are indeed witches, as Muggles don't have magic—possess unparalleled skills and experience, honed through years of combating the Youma. The Youma have plagued the Muggle world for centuries, hidden from us. Now that they've crossed into the magical realm, we can no longer afford to ignore this threat, even if it means working with the few Muggles aware of the magical world. To this effect, I have been in frequent contact with Setsuna Potter—the main known contact and spokeswitch for the Guardians—over the past few months about ensuring their support , and to my delight and gratitude, she has accepted." (For more information on Setsuna Potter, please see page eight.)
Minister Fudge then explained that the Sailor Guardians were once part of a witches' coven estranged from the magical community since the Statute of Secrecy was enacted. Instead of hiding from Muggles like our ancestors, they chose to live among them, disguising their abilities as "superheroes" (individuals, usually with extraordinary powers or abilities - magic, who dedicate their lives to protecting others from threats) while secretly continuing to fight the Youma. (For more information on superheroes, please see page seven.)
Professor Flitwick, Charms Master at Hogwarts, shared his own thoughts on the Youma attack: "The Guardians arrived just in time. Their unique magical abilities were crucial in repelling the Youma. I hate to admit it...but I feel it needs to be said to show just how serious the situation was. I strongly believe that if the Guardians had not arrived...well, I...and probably the rest of the school, wouldn't be here right now. Even Dumbledore was barely able to hold his own before they arrived. We owe the Guardians a great debt that can never be repaid." Coming from a former international duelling champion, that's high (and worrisome) praise indeed.
This collaboration has drawn criticism from traditionalists who believe it threatens the integrity of the magical community. However, public sentiment is shifting. An anonymous Ministry source remarked, "No one likes the idea of mingling with Muggles, but no one can deny that the Guardians saved Hogwarts. Their Muggle origins should not be held against them. My children are only alive because of them, and for that alone, they've earned my eternal gratitude and support. We need all the help we can get, even if they do act a bit like Muggles!"
Damage Report and Aftermath
The recent attack on Hogwarts has resulted in extensive damage, leaving several sections of the castle in ruins. Significant destruction has been noted in the Astronomy Tower, large portions of the moving staircase—especially those leading to Ravenclaw Tower — and the main corridors leading to the Great Hall. Although the school's wards initially held against the onslaught, it became evident that the Youma had exploited vulnerabilities in Hogwarts' defences, a troubling tactic reminiscent of the dark times during Voldemort's reign.
Headmaster Dumbledore, though injured, is expected to make a full recovery. However, his current frailty coupled with this breach, has sparked discussions about the future of leadership at Hogwarts. Some within the community are beginning to question whether it may be time for new leadership to emerge to safeguard the school.
In light of these events, students have been sent home early for winter break, with expectations to remain there for the next few months as Hogwarts undergoes repairs. Special accommodations will be made available for students preparing for their OWL and NEWT examinations during this period. All efforts will be made to ensure that Hogwarts reopens after Christmas.
Minister Fudge has pledged to implement increased security measures for Hogwarts, including enhanced wards and specialized Auror training with assistance from the Sailor Guardians. "I will not simply stand by while our schools and children remain at risk," he declared during last night's emergency session of the Wizzengamot. Additionally, the Ministry is fully supporting an upcoming Youma Awareness Seminar, which will be mandatory for all witches and wizards in the magical community to educate them on safety protocols regarding Youma.
In conjunction with the seminar, the following measures will take immediate effect:
Exemption from No-Magic Rule: All students at the OWL level and above are henceforth exempt from the no-magic rule. (Note: The Statute of Secrecy remains in effect, and any abuse of this rule—such as magic used by pre-OWL level students without valid cause—will result in severe penalties, including potential expulsion from Hogwarts and the confiscation of wands. This policy is strictly enforced to ensure everyone's safety.)
Combat Protocols: Until further notice, only Guardians are authorized to engage Youma. Aurors and other Ministry officials will assist when feasible but otherwise retreat to prioritize safety. Engaging a Youma is highly dangerous; we urge all witches and wizards to prioritize their safety and follow this guidance. All Guardians are granted special Auror status, and their orders must be adhered to at all times.
Curfew for Underage Witches and Wizards: A special curfew for all underage witches and wizards will be in effect until further notice. All students under the age of seventeen must remain in designated safe areas during curfew hours. (Refer to the official Ministry notice on page nine for further information on curfew regulations and designated safe zones.) Underage witches and wizards are not permitted to leave these safe areas without adult supervision.
Emergency Portkeys: All Ministry-registered families will be provided with one-time-use portkeys—free of charge—leading to a Ministry safe house, intended for use if their residence is under attack by Youma and escape is impossible. To apply for or to verify your registration, please get in touch with the Ministry's Department for Magical Transportation. These portkeys are designed to ensure a safe exit in dire situations, highlighting the Ministry's commitment to the safety of its citizens. Ministry officials will be visiting families in the coming days to distribute these portkeys, which can also be collected from the Department of Magical Transportation.
Note: Lost portkeys can be replaced for a nominal fee (rate based on family income). Any misuse—such as using a portkey for non-emergency purposes or sharing it with unauthorized individuals—will result in fines. Theft or reselling of a portkey will result in a mandatory 5-year sentence to Azkaban. (We are looking at you, Mundungus Fletcher.)
Violations or losses can be reported to the nearest Ministry official or by utilizing the emergency contact numbers provided in previous communications.
We understand that these developments may cause anxiety and uncertainty. The Ministry is committed to the safety and well-being of our community and will remain vigilant in addressing these concerns.
We strongly encourage all families to reach out to the Ministry with any questions or concerns regarding these new measures. Let us come together in solidarity and support one another during these challenging times.
Bottomless Cauldrons: A Magical Marvel or a Mundane Mistake?
By Esme Flambé, Culinary Correspondent, Daily Prophet
In a remarkable breakthrough that has sent shockwaves through the magical community, a new line of bottomless cauldrons has hit the market. These cauldrons, designed to provide an endless supply of a single potion, have quickly become a staple for potion-makers and culinary wizards alike. However, recent reports indicate that some owners are experiencing unforeseen complications.
"I was thrilled at first," said Hector Brewster, a potion-maker from Hogsmeade. "But I've had to stop brewing after an unfortunate incident involving a bottomless cauldron and a rather curious Kneazle. I still haven't found her after she jumped in several days ago!"
While the innovative design promises to revolutionize potion-making, critics argue that the bottomless feature can lead to chaos in the kitchen. "Imagine a never-ending supply of pixie dust spilling everywhere," cautioned local chef Esme Flambé. "We're not equipped to handle that sort of madness!"
As the debate continues, suppliers recommend that potential buyers consider their environment before investing in these magical marvels. "They're not for everyone," said Alaric Green, owner of Cauldron Co. "But for those who can handle it, they're a game changer." Whether the bottomless cauldron will stand the test of time remains to be seen.
A Necessary Evil or Merlin's Gift? - Are Sailor Guardians the Future of Wizarding World Defense?
By Hestia Ogden, Opinion Columnist
The attack on Hogwarts has left us questioning the state of our magical defences. We have always trusted in the strength of our wards and the skill of our Aurors. Hogwarts' wards have stood for millennia, providing a safe haven for all of us. However, this new enemy—these Youma—are unlike anything we've faced before. Now, with the Ministry aligning itself with the Sailor Guardians, we must ask: Is this the future of our defence? Are we truly incapable of protecting ourselves without outside "Muggle" help? Are we now reliant on Muggle abilities for our safety?
Some, our very own Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge included, would say yes. Indeed, the Sailor Guardians, with their unique powers and understanding of these dark creatures, have proven undeniably effective time and again. Meanwhile, our Aurors' efforts have been lacklustre at best—and completely ineffective at worst. Even the infamous Avada Kedavra has done nothing—not even a nosebleed—while a single Guardian was able to single-handedly hold off the Youma, and later, when joined by another, save the day. But can we, as a magical society, truly embrace this fusion of Muggle and wizarding tactics? Are we ready to accept that our most powerful protectors might be witches who have lived and operated outside our magical traditions—or worse, Muggles? With their prolonged exposure to Muggle society, are the Guardians even capable of upholding wizarding standards, or are we risking our traditions by embracing them?
For now, it seems we have no choice. The Youma threat is real, and if the Guardians can stop it, they may be our best hope. Indeed, for now, as terrible as it sounds, our only hope. As such, we must accept them and obey their commands in these trying times. However, this alliance will undoubtedly change the wizarding world, perhaps in ways we cannot yet foresee.
Sacred Lords Express Outrage Over Ministry's Alliance with Sailor Guardians
By Calliope Thistlewood, Political Correspondent
In the wake of the recent attack on Hogwarts, prominent pureblood lords of the Sacred Twenty-Eight have voiced their strong discontent regarding Minister Fudge's decision to align the Ministry with the Sailor Guardians, a group many view as Muggle interlopers. These lords, who have long championed the preservation of pureblood traditions, believe that collaborating with these witches—who have distanced themselves from the main magical community—undermines the values they hold dear.
"It's an affront to our heritage," declared Lord Reginald Selwyn, a leading figure in the pureblood community. "We will not stand idly by while the Ministry turns to those who have turned their backs on our world. This alliance with what are essentially disowned witches who have lived with Muggles, indeed as Muggles, is a betrayal of everything we represent and will not be tolerated."
The sentiment is echoed among several other pureblood families, who are now threatening to withdraw their support for the Ministry if Fudge fails to reconsider his approach. "We demand immediate action to restore the integrity of our magical community," asserted Lucius Malfoy, a long-time supporter of Minister Fudge. "If the Minister continues down this path, he can expect significant consequences."
As tensions rise, Minister Fudge has remained notably unavailable for comment, leaving many to speculate on the future of his leadership and the direction of the Ministry. The brewing discord within the wizarding community raises questions about the delicate balance between tradition and the evolving threats they all face.
However, not all has gone bad for Minister Fudge. Just as old alliances fall apart, so do new ones form. In a surprise reveal, several upstanding witches and wizards, (some of whom are also of the Sacred Twenty-Eight) have begun to back the minister and his decision to create the 'Guardians of Magic'.
A witch from one of these families—who values her privacy and has chosen to remain anonymous in order to avoid confrontations—had the following to say:
"I think it was a wonderful idea. Much needed. The Guardians are the only ones currently able to defeat the Youma. I don't care what the likes of Mr. Bad Fate 'Malfoi' says. Who cares if they have Muggle backgrounds...or indeed if they are Muggles? All I care about—and you too should be caring about—is that we... and our children are kept safe. If sticking to outdated pureblood beliefs will get us killed then maybe it is time to lose them and adopt a way which will."
This shocking declaration has caused an outcry of outrage among the more traditionally leaning members of our society. Minister Fudge was once again unavailable for comment.
We at the Daily Prophet will keep you updated as new information arises.
A few weeks later,
Morning sunlight filtered through lace curtains, casting delicate patterns across the wooden floors of the Ashwood family cottage in Ottery St. Catchpole. The soft breeze carried the fresh, earthy scent of dew-kissed grass, mingling with the aroma of herbs as Elara Ashwood, a dutiful wife and mother of two, chopped ingredients for breakfast. Her gentle humming filled the warm kitchen, a calm contrast to the anticipation building throughout the household.
Outside the small cottage, the village stirred lazily to life. Ottery St. Catchpole was a place where the magical and mundane secretly existed side by side. Muggle postmen walked the same streets as wizards, delivering letters alongside owls, sometimes even to the same address, blissfully unaware of the mystical nature of those they served. Oddities—like Marigold Tibbles' ever-missing red star sock—were common enough to spark lively gossip, though rarely peculiar enough to inspire more than passing curiosity. Occasionally, Marigold would mention how her laundry line swayed even on the stillest days, or how she swore she heard faint laughter in the wind as if unseen pranksters were at work. She often declared it must be someone's idea of a joke, grumbling about "cheeky troublemakers with nothing better to do." However, nobody was ever found.
"Myria! Orion! Breakfast is ready!" Elara called, calling up the stairs before glancing at the clock ticking steadily on the wall. Like many other families of the magical world, the Ashwoods had been horrified by the recent sudden attack, and Elara and Cedric Ashwood were extremely grateful to the Guardians for protecting their son, Orion, who had been in the Great Hall at the time of the attack. Now, in less than an hour, they were due to leave for the seminar—a mandatory event organized and supported by the Ministry to prepare the magical community against the rising Youma threat.
It was supposed to have been held at Hogwarts, but due to the extensive damage the castle had suffered during the attack, it was now being held at a different location—a stadium usually known for hosting Quidditch World Cup matches, which was now repurposed for the occasion.
From upstairs came the hurried pitter-patter of a child's footsteps. Nearly eleven-year-old Myria, clutching a thick book on magical creatures, bounded into the kitchen, her wild chestnut hair flying wildly behind her. She skidded to a stop. "I'm ready—wait! I forgot my sketchbook!" she cried, darting back upstairs with the boundless energy only a child could muster.
Elara chuckled softly. Myria had always been an imaginative soul, far more interested in reading about and sketching images of magical creatures and superheroes than completing her chores—or, it seemed, eating breakfast. 'Just like her father,' she mused fondly, glancing over at her husband, who was absorbed in the wizarding world's largest newspapers, his breakfast half-eaten nearby.
Right on cue, Cedric Ashwood looked up from behind the now two-week-old edition of the Daily Prophet he was re-reading once again for what seemed like the umpteenth time, already dressed in his formal cloak. "These bottomless cauldrons are still causing havoc everywhere," he muttered, flipping back to the front page. "As if we didn't have enough trouble with those Youma sightings."
He had been rereading the Prophet's coverage of the attack on Hogwarts, unable to shake the haunting images of destruction. As an alumnus himself and a half-blood father with a child—soon to be children—at Hogwarts, the danger felt all too personal. The once-invincible castle, where he'd spent some of the best years of his life, was no longer a safe haven. Cedric could picture the terror that must have gripped the students, trapped as Youma clashed with professors in the heart of their school. For the first time, those ancient walls, once an invincible fortress, now seemed vulnerable and fragile. His grip on the newspaper tightened.
"Who would have thought Youma could breach Hogwarts?" he murmured, his voice quiet, almost as if speaking to himself. The edges of the paper crinkled in his grip, a knot tightening in his chest as he replayed the moment he'd first read the news. How close had they come to disaster? His son had been inside those suddenly exposed walls. Cedric clenched his jaw, struggling with the fear and helplessness gnawing at him. The idea of Hogwarts being anything but safe—Hogwarts, of all places—kept him awake at night.
"And here I thought if I stayed away from the Muggle world, I'd be safe from the Youmai," he mumbled as he glared at a magically moving picture of the Diagon Alley Youma, then smiled as he saw it get defeated by Sailor Moon. "Thank heavens that superheroes like the Guardians exist. Without them..." He sighed. "I guess it was simply too good to be true. A fool's hope to think they would somehow stay away from the magical side."
Before Elara could respond, Orion, their sixteen-year-old son, entered the room, arms full of spell books. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed how late he'd been up studying advanced charms. He, too, had been on edge since the attack. Hogwarts wasn't just a school to him—it was where he'd discovered himself, built confidence in his abilities, forged friendships, and envisioned his future. Now, with the wards of the school breached, those certainties had crumbled. The weight of his need to protect his family pressed heavily on him, nearly consuming his every thought.
"Mum, I think I've got it!" Orion exclaimed, excitedly holding up a shimmering orb. He tapped it with his wand, but it briefly glowed before sputtering out in a puff of smoke. His shoulders slumped. "Or maybe not..." he sighed in defeat, glaring at the failed spell. The frustration in his eyes betrayed something deeper: the fear that no amount of practice could ever truly prepare him for what lurked beyond those walls. Each failed spell felt like a reminder of his unpreparedness. Hogwarts had been his sanctuary, the place that molded him into who he was today, and now even it had been breached. The haunting thought that, had the attack been worse, he might not have made it back to his family gnawed at him. He needed to be stronger—to protect them, to be ready. The weight of that responsibility pressed down on him like an iron chain, and this failure—no matter how small—left him feeling powerless. If he couldn't perform a simple charm, how could he possibly defend himself or his family from a Youma?
"Better luck next time, oh mighty Slytherin!" Myria teased, reappearing with her sketchbook and dodging her brother's playful swipe. Like many other sixteen-year-olds, he had taken full advantage of the new emergency rules allowing older students to use magic outside of school.
"Orion!" Elara said, shaking her head. "Put away your wand. I thought I told you to get a good night's rest, not to stay up all night. You better stay awake during the seminar, or Merlin help you because I will not," she added, her annoyance clear. Beneath her firm tone, however, a small worry lingered. She had seen the unease in Orion's eyes these past few weeks. They hadn't spoken much about the attack—none of them had—but as a mother, she didn't need words to know how deeply it affected her children. Orion had pushed himself harder than ever since then, and though she admired his determination, it left her with a pit of anxiety in her stomach. What if he couldn't protect himself when it really mattered? She exhaled softly, trying to push the thought away.
"Oh! Big brother is in trouble," Myria chanted childishly, only to stop as Elara's glare turned her way.
Cedric reached across the table, placing a hand on Orion's shoulder as he slumped in defeat. "You'll get it, son," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of shared worry. Orion glanced up, seeing the faint smile of reassurance from his father, but also sensing the unspoken fears that lingered between them.
Cedric checked his pocket watch. "Now, enough, both of you. We've got... thirty minutes if we're lucky. Finish your breakfast and behave yourselves, or you'll be de-gnoming the garden for a week when we get back."
That threat spurred the children into action. Neither Myria nor Orion relished the tedious task of de-gnoming the garden—no child in Ottery St. Catchpole liked it—and they hurried to comply. Cedric smirked as he picked up the morning's issue of the Daily Prophet and disappeared back behind it, before resuming his reading.
Quidditch Results: Cannons Shock the League with Draw; Falcons Fly High!
By Quentin Blatchley, Sports Writer, Daily Prophet
In a weekend of Quidditch surprises, the impossible happened: the Chudley Cannons didn't lose! Yes, you read that right, dear readers—I'm as shocked as you! In a stunning turn of events, the Cannons managed a draw against the Appleby Arrows, finishing with a score of 150-150—a feat that has left Quidditch fans everywhere in disbelief. This marks the Cannons' first non-loss in seven seasons, igniting a spark of hope among their long-suffering supporters. Dubbed 'the eternal joke of the league,' this draw is nothing short of a miracle. A replay is scheduled for later this month, and excitement is palpable. Will the Cannons double their feat or crash once more? Only time will tell!
Cedric shook his head in disbelief. "A blind Niffler must've found a Galleon. No way they pulled off a draw," he mused, still processing the shock of the unexpected score line.
In another thrilling match that kept fans on the edge of their seats and up all night, the Falmouth Falcons soared to victory against Puddlemere United, triumphing 1730-1600 in a game that stretched into the early hours of the morning. With both starting Seekers out for the count due to a double knockout—thanks to a failed Wronski Feint —the match reportedly ended only after the Snitch flew directly into a tired Puddlemere Chaser's mouth, leading to the dreaded "Snitch Snag" . This unfortunate turn of events awarded Falmouth an automatic 150 points, sealing their victory and solidifying their place in the top half of the league.
Cedric smiled. "Good for them." As a Falmouth fan, the win was a welcome surprise. Beating last year's champions would certainly keep the Falcons from the bottom of the league. However, the Cannons' unexpected draw left him bemused. "The Cannons, the eternal dead last— the joke of the league —drew! I can't believe it!" He shook his head again, struggling to wrap his mind around the unlikely result. Somewhere, a bookie must be trembling in dismay at having to pay out those odds. "This feels like a fluke. No, not a fluke... a miracle! Even a blind Niffler can strike gold occasionally," he reminded himself, chuckling softly.
Still buzzing with disbelief over the weekend's events, Cedric glanced at the broom prices listed in the article a few seconds later. His smile vanished and he sighed.
The Price Is Flight: Broomstick Costs Skyrocket!
By Quentin Blatchley, Sports Writer, Daily Prophet
The Broom Boom strikes again! In a move anticipated—and dreaded—by Quidditch enthusiasts everywhere, broomstick prices are set to continue soaring as the season heats up. The beloved Nimbus 1800, renowned for its reliability, now retails at a staggering 300 Galleons, while the new Nimbus 2000 has jumped to 500 Galleons. Upcoming models, including the Nimbus 2001 (due next year) and the highly anticipated Nimbus 3000 (due to be released in 1993), are expected to cost 700 and 1000 Galleons, respectively.
While suppliers justify the rising costs, labelling broomsticks "an investment in performance," many fans find themselves struggling to afford the latest models.
"We expected the prices to rise, but not this much," lamented Ernie Wimple, a local Quidditch enthusiast. "With the demand for quality racing brooms at an all-time high, families may need to reconsider their options. For those of us with more modest means, the outdated yet still competitive Nimbus 1500 at 100 Galleons and the Cleansweep 80 - Breeze Rider at a mere 50 Galleons might be better options."
Rival broom maker Tempest Broom Works, creators of the Blazewing (currently retailing at 400 Galleons), was unavailable for comment. However, rumours are swirling about an upcoming ground-breaking new broom, rumoured to be called 'the Firebolt', which could shake up the market once more.
Whether this new broom will be able to compete with Nimbus' infamous Superior and Extreme series—still an unattainable dream for most but the elite—remains to be seen. Both brooms continue to retail at their outrageous prices of 2000 and 5000 Galleons, respectively.
The co-owners of Nimbus and the LunarMagi Emporium, Setsuna Potter and her ward Lady Aryanna Potter, The Girl-Who-Lived and heiress of the ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Peverell, were unavailable for comment.
Cedric sighed. Broom prices were still going up. He'd hoped to buy Orion a new broom, something reliable like the Nimbus 2000, but at 500 Galleons, it was becoming more and more out of reach. At this rate, even the 1800 might soon be too expensive.
Folding the newspaper, he looked at his son, who was finishing his breakfast and carefully putting away his spell books. Orion had been hoping for a new broom for months, but with the rising prices, Cedric knew it was time to set more realistic expectations.
"Orion, about the broom…" Cedric began, but his son cut him off with a raised hand.
"I know, Dad. It's not the best time right now, and that's okay. I've been practicing with my old Cleansweep—it's still got some life left in it!" Orion grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "I think," he added quietly, too softly for anyone to hear.
Cedric smiled back, proud of his son's maturity. He could see the disappointment Orion was trying to hide but appreciated his understanding. "That's the spirit, son. Who knows? Maybe by the time you graduate, we'll see a more affordable option."
Elara placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, offering silent support. "We've raised a good one, Cedric," she said softly.
Cedric nodded, his heart swelling with pride. He called out to Myria, who was lost in her sketchbook again. From a distance, it looked like she was trying to sketch her newest idol, Sailor Mercury, though Cedric couldn't be sure. They all looked so alike to him. "Myria, come on! Put away your sketches and finish your breakfast!"
As Myria tucked away her sketchbook and settled down at the table, Cedric smiled absently, his thoughts drifting. If only the Youma would leave us in peace for just a while… life would be a little less chaotic. He chuckled quietly, recalling an amusing article from the less significant pages of the Daily Prophet—a rare bit of light humour amidst the rising tension. Oh, how he envied those whose lives were safe, uneventful, and blissfully dull.
The Daily Prophet
The Case of the Missing Sock: A Local Mystery Unravelled
By Mildred Grubb, Local Affairs Reporter, Daily Prophet
In what can only be described as a peculiar occurrence, residents of Ottery St. Catchpole are abuzz with the case of the missing sock. It all began when Marigold Tibbles reported a sock from her laundry had mysteriously vanished during a recent wash. While most would dismiss this as a trivial matter, the plot thickened when her neighbour, Old Man Crumble, claimed that his favourite pair of mismatched socks had also disappeared.
"I swear they were right here!" exclaimed a visibly annoyed Tibbles, wildly gesturing with her walking stick at her empty laundry line. "And now, poof! Vanished without a trace! If I ever find who keeps on stealing my socks they'll feel the business end of my stick."
The village is rife with theories ranging from mischievous house elves to rogue Nifflers. "It's a classic case of Sock Snatching," quipped local gossip Mildred Grubb. "Last year it was a boot with a red star, now it's a sock! You'd think we'd have more pressing magical matters to attend to, but socks? How quaint!"
As residents remain vigilant, experts advise keeping a close eye on laundry lines to avoid further mysterious disappearances. In a town where the mundane meets the magical, one can never be too cautious!
Cedric chuckled softly as he remembered the ridiculous article, imagining a Niffler hoarding a pile of socks somewhere. But the light-hearted moment quickly gave way to a more serious mood as breakfast resumed.
Myria, her face a rictus of fierce concentration, had finished her breakfast and was now doodling an image of a miniature Sailor Moon with pink hair riding an oversized Pegasus in the margin of her notebook. The Pegasus had a sleek, white coat that shimmered in the light, with majestic wings edged in soft golden hues and a flowing, golden mane. The Guardian's eyes were wide with determination and wonder as they soared through the sky.
Orion, meanwhile, enjoying the last of his morning coffee, barely glanced up between bites of omelette. Elara moved gracefully between them, her eyes sharp as she made sure they ate enough while mentally preparing for the day ahead. This seminar wasn't just another event—it felt significant. Larger. A life-altering event.
Once breakfast was over and the dishes cleared, the family donned their cloaks and stepped into the crisp morning air. Their village was one of the rare places where magical families and unsuspecting Muggles coexisted in relative harmony, thanks to a blend of careful planning and powerful magical wards. As they made their way down the dirt road to the designated Portkey location, a subtle hum of anticipation filled the air, mingling with an underlying current of anxiety.
"Do you think we'll see a Guardian today?" Myria asked, her eyes gleaming with wonder. She skipped a step to catch up with her parents as they walked along the narrow, muddy path. Her voice held a melody of excitement, curiosity woven in every note.
"It's possible," Elara replied, her tone measured, though a small smile curved her lips. "The Ministry invited the Guardians to speak about the Youma threat. Whether they'll be there in person... well, that's another matter."
Myria's imagination leaped dreamily at the thought. "Imagine meeting Sailor Moon!" she exclaimed, her pulse quickening. Myria had sketched her and the other Guardians more times than she could count, each drawing a reflection of her awe and admiration. Somehow, deep down, Myria felt an unshakable connection to them, as though her destiny was somehow intertwined with theirs. The 'Guardian of Diagon Alley' had become a beacon of hope to her in these dark times. Every time Sailor Moon appeared in Diagon Alley well-wishers and thankful shoppers who were there that fateful day would always flock to greet her and shower her with praise, at least until the Aurors arrived to arrest her for vigilantism. Myria frowned as she remembered one of those occasions. They never succeeded but how dare they try to arrest her heroes. Couldn't they see she and the other Guardians were the only ones standing between them and the Youmai? Besides, why arrest them if they were Fudge's idea all along? It didn't make any sense.
As she followed her family up a hill she couldn't help but hum a muggle song of a certain wizard of Oz, in her excitement changing it a bit to fit the moment. "We're off to see the Guardians, the magical Guardians of the Moon!"Her parents smiled at her enthusiasm, while her brother shook his head and rolled his eyes.
As they reached the clearing where the Portkey waited—a battered, mouldy boot that looked like it belonged in a rubbish heap—Orion placed a comforting hand on Myria's shoulder. "You never know, Myria," he said with a teasing smile. "Maybe you'll be more than just a spectator today." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I've heard a rumor that a Guardian might even soon be asking for... volunteers. So, you never know—your wish could come true sooner than you think."
Myria blinked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. "What do you mean?"
But Orion had already turned away, seeing a warning look from Cedric, his smile mysterious, leaving her to puzzle over his cryptic words.
Finding the Portkey, Cedric gestured for everyone to gather around. "Alright, everyone, time to touch the boot. And whatever you do, don't let go," he reminded them with a wink.
Myria wrinkled her nose but complied, exchanging a glance with Orion, who smirked at her reaction.
"I know it's gross, but that's how Portkeys work," Cedric said with a knowing look.
"It has to be something Muggles wouldn't want to touch, right, Dad?" Orion chimed in.
"Exactly," Cedric replied with a chuckle. "Can't have a Muggle accidentally teleporting across Britain now, can we?"
"No, can't have that at all," Myria mumbled to herself, seeing her father's point, grimacing as she touched the mouldy shoe. She noticed a faint red star on it, barely visible through the grime.
Checking his pocket watch, Cedric nodded. "Alright, any second now. Hold tight."
Myria couldn't help but wonder what would happen if a Muggle happened upon them at that very moment—four people clustered around a moldy shoe, their hands outstretched as if about to perform some odd ritual. She stifled a giggle at the thought, but before she could finish, a familiar tug behind her navel hit, hard.
The world spun and blurred, and in the blink of an eye, they were gone—hurtling through space and time, off to the seminar that would change everything.
Back at the family home, as the family of four travelled through space and time, the newspaper lay forgotten on the kitchen table. A sudden gust of wind from a left-open window shuffled the pages, uncovering another article, cleverly hidden in a corner.
The Daily Prophet - Back Page Notes
By Grim Noir (Freelance Reporter)
Statement from the Muggle Prime Minister Regarding the Incident with Minister Fudge
In light of recent speculation, the Muggle Ministry (via the Office of Muggle Affairs) has issued a brief statement regarding an unexpected visit by Minister Cornelius Fudge to the Prime Minister's office—a visit during which the minister spent a few days in a prison cell for trespassing.
"Ah yes, Minister Fudge. A most... enthusiastic visitor. Unfortunately, we weren't expecting him, and in these uncertain times, we take security very seriously. I trust that Minister Fudge now understands that barging into a highly secured office unannounced tends to raise a few eyebrows—and the possibility of an extended stay at Her Majesty's mercy—even if he does have... unusual methods of arrival. In any case, all is forgiven. I'm sure his business was of the utmost importance; though perhaps next time, an...what was it again...ah yes, owl would suffice."
When questioned about his visit to the Muggle Prime Minister, Fudge was quick to reassure the public that the Muggle world remained blissfully unaware of magical affairs. He addressed the incident with a hint of humour:
"There were a few... unavoidable issues, as is always the case when the new leader of the Muggles is informed of the magical world, but it's all been sorted now. All water under the bridge. Rest assured, the Muggles are as clueless as ever."
We at the Daily Prophet can only hope that this is indeed true—and that our dear Minister is still fit for the job.
The article, like many others deemed too unimportant to make headlines, would remain unnoticed and unread... at least for now.
"Look at all the banners!" Myria exclaimed, pointing at the colourful sea of flags flapping in the breeze. Each one represented a different magical family or organization—sometimes both—each participating in the grand seminar. "It's like the whole country is here!" she added, her voice brimming with awe.
"And all the advertisements," Orion noted, eyes wide with excitement. Families and shop owners alike had set up elaborate displays, each one vying for attention. The booths were brimming with magical products and pamphlets, filling the air with the mingled scents of potion ingredients, roasted nuts, and hints of spiced foods from nearby stalls. "I can smell the samples from here," he added with a grin, his stomach rumbling in approval.
Cedric nodded, a hint of awe softening his own voice. "The Minister certainly pulled out all the stops. I don't think we've ever seen anything quite like this before." His gaze swept over the countless tents and booths stretching into the distance, each one buzzing with witches and wizards in robes of every hue and way of life.
"More like putting all his eggs in one messy basket," Orion muttered under his breath, scepticism creeping in.
"Or a disaster waiting to happen," Elara added, glancing uneasily at the packed crowd. The thought of a Youma attack here sent a shiver down her spine. Myria caught her mother's expression and squeezed her hand, feeling an odd mix of thrill and anxiety herself.
"Don't worry, Mum—the Guardians will protect us, right, Dad?" she asked, looking up for reassurance.
Cedric forced a smile. "Of course, they will," he said, hoping he sounded confident. Yet in the distance, he spotted a cluster of protestors holding up placards and a few unsavoury characters weaving through the crowd. 'The other side of the coin,' he thought, noting Aurors discreetly ushering them away.
The energy of the crowd surged around Myria, making her heart pound with excitement. Just moments ago, the Ashwoods had appeared in a swirl of colours, stepping onto a landing platform set up for the occasion. Not far off, the stadium loomed—its towers rising against the sky, surrounded by a throng of witches and wizards abuzz with excited chatter.
"Make way! Make way! Step off the platform! Hurry along, please—more families are arriving!" A harried Ministry official shouted, gesturing for them to move on.
As they stepped aside, another Ministry worker rushed past, directing a new wave of families with brisk efficiency. "Stay together as you head to your designated entrance!"
Following instructions, the Ashwoods exchanged excited glances, their eyes bright as they took in the grandeur before them. Enormous screens displayed the seminar's schedule alongside urgent safety messages, and the massive field around the stadium teemed with eager attendees. Myria's imagination soared at the thought of seeing the Guardians in person. Orion's eyes sparkled at the spectacle around them, every face in the crowd telling a story of its own.
"Wow, that building is enormous! How far away are we?" Orion asked, gazing at the towering stadium.
"It's quite something, isn't it? Still a few kilometres off," Cedric said, chuckling. "The last time I was here was for the Quidditch World Cup. They must have at least doubled—no, quadrupled—the size since then."
Myria giggled. "Who cares about that? We're finally here! What if we actually meet a Guardian?"
Cedric laughed, overhearing her. "If you do, be sure to ask how they manage the pressure. It must be enormous—ultimately, they're the ones keeping us safe, after all." A hint of grimness passed over his face as he remembered the latest article in the Daily Prophet, wondering if the Guardians would really be enough. A sudden morbid thought entered his mind. 'If the pureblood bigots had their way, the wizarding world would still be defenceless and where would we be then?.'
The crowd grew thicker as they neared the stadium entrance. Elara kept Myria and Orion close, maternal instincts heightened as she ensured they didn't get swept away. "Stay close, and keep your eyes peeled," she cautioned, casting a watchful eye around. "They say the seminar is full of surprises."
"Yes, stay close at all times," Cedric agreed, noticing another, rougher cluster of signs bearing anti-Guardian slogans, their words biting. Tension prickled in the air as more Aurors moved to steer the protestors away. His jaw tightened, but he kept his voice light, gently steering his family onward without them realizing the shift in his tone.
Just then, a loud cheer erupted nearby. Myria turned to see a crowd of children gathered around a wizard in bright robes, demonstrating a magical toy that shimmered and spun mid-air. "Look at that!" she gasped, tugging on her mother's sleeve. "Can we go see?"
Elara hesitated, glancing at Cedric, who shrugged with a smile. The protesters were now out of sight, and with security nearby, the area felt safe enough. It would also distract the children while they waited. "We're early. The gates won't open for another few minutes," he said, gesturing toward the officials milling about. With a sigh, Elara relented. "Alright, but stay close," she said, releasing her daughter's hand.
As they approached the booth, a wizard noticed Myria's excitement and handed her a shimmering, floating orb. "Here you go, young witch! Give it a try!"
Myria's eyes widened in disbelief. "Really?"
"Of course! Just give it a gentle nudge," he encouraged, demonstrating the motion.
Myria mirrored his movements, sending the orb into the air. It twirled and glowed brilliantly, catching the attention of passers by. She laughed, momentarily forgetting everything else, the orb reflecting the bright flags overhead in every colour.
"That's amazing!" Orion cheered, clapping his hands. "What charm did you use to do that?" he asked, wide-eyed.
The wizard grinned. "Ah, that's a trade secret!" he replied, causing Orion to groan, though his eyes sparkled with curiosity. 'It must be an alteration of a levitation charm… but which one?' he pondered.
As the orb danced through the air, a sudden hush fell over the crowd. The stadium gates swung open, and a figure emerged, flanked by stern-faced Aurors. The figure raised a hand for silence.
"WELCOME ALL TO THIS MOMENTOUS OCCASION!" the figure called, his voice amplified to carry over the field. The volume startled a few witches and wizards closest to him, causing them to clutch their ears in pain. Cedric cringed slightly, wondering how they'd managed to keep such a loud event hidden from nearby Muggles.
Looking around, he spotted a dazed, drunkenly smiling Muggle being followed by two Ministry officials. Cedric felt a pang of sympathy. Most likely, the poor fellow was the owner of the field they were using, charmed high up to the gills with the Obliviate and 'notice me not' charms. He shook his head with a quiet sigh. "Poor fellow," he muttered. Hopefully, the nice compensation—of which he will have no recollection of earning—waiting for him on his kitchen table once this is all over would be worth his troubles. In the end, there were far worse ways of waking up after a... drunken dream. Hopefully, the few added empty bottles the ministry officials will place to 'sell' the story would do the rest.
The official paused, adjusted his voice, and continued. "Today, we gather not only to learn but to stand together against the darkness threatening our world. We are here to share knowledge, strength, and hope! In a few short minutes, the gates will open, allowing you all to enter the stadium. While here…"
As the man continued his speech, Myria's pulse quickened, her imagination already whirling with images of the Guardians in action. To her, this was more than just a gathering or another step into the magical world—it was a chance to finally meet her idols, a moment she had dreamt about and been looking forward to for months.
Soon, the Ashwoods moved toward their designated seats, pausing momentarily as officials scanned them for contraband and checked their names against a long parchment list.
"Name?" asked the official in a steady, slightly bored tone, his wand flicking absently.
"Ashwood—Cedric, Elara, Orion, and Myria," Cedric replied, his voice steady despite the electric excitement buzzing in the air. The official nodded, murmuring a quick spell as he unfurled the long list that cascaded nearly to the floor. Myria watched in awe, her eyes wide as letters and numbers rearranged themselves, dancing across the parchment in a mesmerizing swirl.
"Ashwood… let's see... Abbott... Aldridge... ah, here you are, Ashwood… booth number 67," he announced, his tone warm yet professional. "Not all the way up, I'm afraid, but you should still have a clear view."
Myria's heart sank slightly at the thought of not being right in the front. She desperately hoped she'd be able to see everything.
"Not that it makes much difference anymore, with Setsuna Potter's mirrors showing everything as if you were in a prime booth…" He trailed off, seemingly catching himself. "Ah—no matter. Now, please stand still for a second… Thank you. Next, could I have your wands, please?"
Elara handed over her wand, an act quickly mimicked by Cedric and then Orion. When it was her turn, the official glanced at Myria with a knowing smile. "Only three? Ah, I see—too young for Hogwarts, miss?"
Myria nodded, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment at not yet having a wand and pride at being recognized. In just a few months, she would have her own wand too.
"Not to worry, you'll have one soon enough," he said with a wink, returning the wands to her parents and brother. "Thank you for attending the Ministry's Youma Seminar. Enjoy, and have a wonderful day!... NEXT!"
As the Ashwoods continued into the heart of the stadium, the vibrant atmosphere engulfed them. Laughter rang out like music, and the sweet aroma of Popping Puffcorn and Cloudspun Candy wafted through the air, tickling Myria's nose. She could barely contain her bubbling excitement as they rounded a corner, catching sight of the grand stage far below.
Myria's heart swelled with joy and anticipation, her eyes sparkling like stars as she absorbed the enchanting spectacle. Was this really happening? she wondered, her mind racing with endless possibilities, each wilder than the next. Yes… yes, it was! She could hardly wait to take it all in.
All around them, large objects that looked like mirrors stood, and in some cases, floated above their heads. On each of these mirrors, the words" MagiVision - coming soon to your home. To order your very own ScryGlass, owl the Potter LunarMagi Emporium today - we'll send your expectations to the moon!"appeared in ever-changing colours and different sizes. Occasionally, the mirrors would also show advertisements from magical shops in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade.
Just then, a familiar urgency interrupted her joyful moment. "Mama," Myria whispered, "I really need to go."
Elara sighed but nodded, understanding her daughter's plight as she glanced over at Cedric. "I'd better go with her. The stadium's quite large, and there are a lot of strangers. We'll be right back," she reassured him, her voice calm and warm.
Cedric raised an eyebrow but couldn't help a small smirk. "Don't take too long," he teased lightly, leaning back in his seat.
"They're set to begin soon, in, um... 30 minutes or so. If you hurry, you might just make it," Orion added, emphasizing the might with a cheeky grin on his face.
After giving Orion a quick glare, mother and daughter quickly hurried off to the back of the stadium, Myria moving as fast as her small legs would allow, determination etched on her face to make it back in time before the start, intent on proving her brother wrong.
As fate would have it, on their way back, just as they were about to return to their seats on their way back to their viewing booth, they passed by an internal VIP portkey landing zone used for VIPs and staff only. A brilliant swirl of multi-colored light erupted nearby. Sensing the incoming portkey immediately, numerous security personnel stepped forward, halting them in their tracks.
The shimmering energy and radiant fabric crackled in the air, creating a mesmerizing spectacle that captivated Myria's wide eyes. The vibrant colours grew larger, danced and twisted, illuminating the dimly lit hall in a kaleidoscope of hues. Finally, three figures materialized, tumbling yet somehow managing to stay upright—one even going into a handstand before twirling back onto her feet to land in a very familiar pose. Their movements were almost ethereal as if they were woven from the very magic surrounding them. Myria gasped, her heart racing as she took in the sight before her.
"Mama!" she whispered, breathlessly tugging at her mother's dress, nearly bursting with joy. "It's… it's them!"
At that moment, Myria felt as if she was in the safest place on Earth, for just a few steps away, her idols, the Guardians had finally arrived!