Chapter magically appears out of thin air*
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Amelia Bones POV
After all these years, she had learned to read her subtle tells, ensuring that injuries did not go untreated for too long when they worked together, knowing that often she couldn't feel them right away. Sighing as she approached the young woman who had become her pseudo-niece, she reflected on the bonds they had forged in the wake of tragedy, remembering when they had been so young, left to rally together in the aftermath of the last war.
July 10, 1981
It had been eight days since the attack on the family manor when tragedy struck once more. Amelia recently turned 27 and had been in the DMLE for 10 years. She entered the Auror academy right after Graduating from Hogwarts and, along with two of her closest friends, had risen through the ranks. Now a senior Hit Witch, she was the only one left. The others, Aria Nox and Caterina Drakos, had stayed with her in the Aurors until they had taken their places As heirs of their prospective houses at 21 and 22, respectively, no longer able to hide within the wizarding world they had taken to their respective roles within the courts like a duck to water. Aria thrived as an ambassador, and her sharp wit and honeyed words often left others reeling during negotiations. While Caterina became a guardian, a hardened warrior rising through the ranks to the rank of commander, many feared her blade, none daring to cross her nor harm her charge.
The three remained close, often working together as the wars raged and their families grew. They had worked tirelessly to protect what was theirs, creating several contingency plans and revising them when Aria brought Callen and Zaria into the fold. To say that Aria's mother, Mirach, Daughter of Calliope, was thrilled to be woken one December night to the three stumbling home from a raid carrying a child barely alive, both the girl and Aria suffering from hypothermia, the other two having various cuts and burns littering their bodies. It was an understatement of the century. Looking at the girl standing on her doorstep, Amelia longed for the simpler days. The growing tensions had made it impossible for the three friends to interact openly with each other for the past three years. It seemed it was too late. Gathering her resolve, Amelia slowly approached the eight-year-old, seeing her shaking and attempting to maintain a cold expression that was so foreign to the once optimistic girl. Wrapping her arms around Callen and drawing her close, Amelia smelled smoke mixed in with the copper twinge of blood. "The Manor is in ruins; they were let in Ami. Someone let them in the wards. Mirach held them off. The others are just gone. I tried to help her, Ami, but we were overwhelmed." Callen gasped, clutching at her robes for dear life, attempting to explain through the tears.
"Ria and Cat are gone. What do we do now?" was gasped out before the girl crumpled in exhaustion, the strain of her injuries becoming apparent. Amelia felt her heartbreak as she called for a trusted healer, knowing that even with the contingency plans, the years to come would be hard for the now fractured family to pick up the pieces. "We survive, we live, and we bide our time. That is all we can do, young one," she murmured with a growing resolve. Despite the grief, Amelia had hope that day as she held her pseudo niece in her arms with her youngest ward still asleep in the nursery upstairs. That day, a Hufflepuff lost the last thread that kept her docile, and the honey badger forged in its wake would do anything to protect her cubs.
Being left to raise Susan after death eaters attacked the manor had nearly destroyed her—Callen's appearance shortly after steeled her fortitude and gave her purpose. As the years passed, Callen became a big sister, always watching out for Susan as she grew older, helping the elves watch her when Amelia couldn't bring the toddler to the office. The young Auror had done her best to raise her wards and manage the family seat as the last of age Bones left. Speaking of Susan, she will throw a fit that Callen is hurt. The fourteen-year-old, having been sorted into Hufflepuff much to the chagrin of the Slytherin alumnus, could be very cross when someone she cared about was hurt. Often, she would scold the two if they came home from work injured. Madame Pomfrey, the resident Matron of the hospital wing, followed close behind the director, ready to provide medical assistance." Ambassador, please, for Merlin's sake, tell me you've treated those wounds before coming here and did not ignore them again?'' The reaction on her face, looking almost sheepish and giving her a youthful look that nearly betrayed her age, reminded me of how much the world has failed these kids.
They were growing up fighting a war that should not have been placed upon their shoulders. The look passed as she straightened, schooling her expression to a mask of indifference before raising an eyebrow as she spoke, "Besides basic field techniques, when perhaps would you have liked that to occur after the raid when children were being triaged when I received an immediate notice of a team being assembled to enact a warrant, which by the way was a no-knock, or when I rushed here to ensure that it was done properly without the students and staff coming to harm. Because I have been up and moving for the past 48 hours without sleep; no, I have not gotten a chance to ask doc to take a look because the survivors needed immediate care." The steel veneer that was laced with exhaustion made everyone pause once more as they looked at each other for a moment before, she turned ignoring the fuming Aeternus to Professor McGonagall, " professor, would it be possible if the ambassador was given one of the empty rooms for the night along with her entourage?" As if summoned, several people waltzed through the doors as they materialized from shadow and light, assessing the assembled group before shaking their drenched cloaks and sitting down towards the middle of the hall, reclining back as if barely awake.
….
There was a moment of quiet before the revered Scott spoke once more. "Tradition that was once upheld meant that if a member of the fallen was in need, Hogwarts as neutral grounds could offer sanctuary. In times of despair, I also understood that the wards would not have let in a member, regardless of their state, if they held ill intent towards these hallowed grounds. I welcome the Ambassador and the rest of her entourage to reside by the will of the founders and the Hogwarts charter as long as they uphold the treaty." As she spoke, several things occurred: the group that had sat down moments before looked at each other before standing and walking closer; the wixen present looked on in amazement as a dark chuckle escaped the Ambassador, who straightened and stepped closer to the scot, " The treaty…the very thing that Aeternus have been denied for decades as they've sought sanctuary and refuge from the endless war. Women and children, orphans, and survivors of mass slaughter have attempted to seek refuge here at Hogwarts since before the blood war. Everyone was turned away and denied even the most basic human decency and access to shelter. So-called creature-blooded individuals have been more accommodating than wixen.
Don't even get me started on what it was like attending classes as a student while being deemed other because I didn't speak. Getting hexed in the halls, having my stuff stolen, work tampered with, potions sabotaged almost daily. Of course, this was all before your so-called precious lions and ravens decided that I hadn't learned my place…" A shiver went down my spine at the apparent detachment in Callen's voice. It was reminiscent of how she sounded after her heart was taken. She paused and looked at her gloved hands in contemplation before continuing. " several weeks into the academic session, they had become incensed when it became clear I wasn't some weak-willed naive muggle-born they could browbeat into submission. I protected my belongings early on and had quick reflexes from sports, so grabbing thrown ingredients was easy enough. They hated that I wasn't phased by anything they did… one night, I was walking along the seventh floor after helping a Ravenclaw first-year who got lost before curfew when they ambushed me. A group of sixth and seventh-year Gryffindor and Ravenclaws cornered me and backed me into a wall. I honestly don't know what their intentions were. They wanted to teach me a lesson for corrupting the younger students from other houses, believing I was a slimy snake. This is an incorrect statement, seeing as snakes have smooth scales, and the only time they're slimy is when they break out of their eggs. Regardless, they threw hexes and curses at me while I did what I could to find a way out of there without leaving a trail of bodies in my wake. They took my wand and broke it at some point After they tiered themselves out, I was tossed over the railing and was in and out of consciousness. No one helped me. If I hadn't caught another railing and slowed down my descent, I would have ended up with a pile of broken bones at the base of the grand staircase, all because of a treaty…and Dumbledore blamed me for it. I waved it off, saying boys would be boys. With the threats he vaulted at me, the mere mention of any treaty is completely laughable." watching the change in her posture as she finished speaking, I just barely glimpsed the look of shock in her eyes as she looked down at her forearm and yanked the right sleeve to reveal a silver cuff that glowed faintly. Several emotions flickered across her face before settling in a calm mask that caused chills to run down the spines of all present. " The nerve of that egotistical moronic fool. He preaches about the way of the light and forgiveness, then has the fucking audacity to use an object that has been illegal since the first fallen war. Whoever gave it to him didn't specify the instructions' wording. Fucking idiot couldn't even use a runic cuff correctly."
She then looked up and slightly paled at the look that passed over the visage of a member of the entourage who wore the symbol of a healer upon her lapel and radiated a subtle power under her seemingly calm veneer. There was a barely audible 'oh shit' from the ambassadors' direction before the healer spoke. "Explain exactly what that is and what parameters he used because it wasn't visible when I healed your injuries at the end of that year or until now. We both know that you wouldn't have intentionally hid something like this from me. You practically hand-picked me to be your main healer, as you detest letting anyone with the moniker within five feet of you. After all these years, it better be a damn good explanation, or I'll be rethinking the meaning of my oath." The anger visible on the healer's face nearly hid the worry that showed through. As the healer and ambassador stood there, the observers witnessed a flashing of color through their seemingly mundane appearances. A single tear escaped the ambassador's eye as their eyes returned to typical; an unspoken understanding passed between them that, unbeknownst to most of the room occupants, had a far deeper meaning.
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Jasmine POV
After all these years of heartbreak, every time she was hurt, every time I felt the repercussions of her pain from my mate's Parabatai bond to her, I had hoped she finally trusted me, but alas, doubt still lingers. As the tear fell, I knew I'd barely missed jumping the proverbial gun but that she had tried to tell me, only to be blocked by that cursed cuff. I adjusted the bracelet on my wrist, waiting for her to finish coming to terms with that. I was angry not at her but at the bastard who did this.
Callen subconsciously cleared her throat, rubbing the cropped hair on the back of her head before speaking. " Seeing as it seems as though the old goat may have worded it as if he'd always be headmaster and that it appears that Lady Hogwarts herself disagrees, I can partly remember that this damn thing existed." Pausing and looking up into the healer's eyes, her words shocked the assembled witnesses even more. "Doc, I swear on my blade and on the river Styx that I did not knowingly nor intentionally hide this incident nor the resulting injuries from you. It appears the headmaster had held on to some old war relics, and when everything happened, he made a threat that I could not ignore. If he had been sincere, it would have meant the loss of any hope of peace that generations have sacrificed for. Truthfully, that night felt like a nightmare that sometimes lingered and nothing more." she tilted her head slightly to the side, an almost minuscule gesture to those who didn't know her. I straightened my collar and adjusted the lapel pins as she turned towards the rest, knowing we would be okay. With that, the ambassador's mask fully back in place, she turned and addressed the rest of the room,
"So I won't apologize for doing everything that has been forced upon me for years because if I ever decide to be selfish just once, I become worse than the scum of the earth. All because the world can not accept that I have a heart and soul. If you excuse me, it's been a trying few days, and I have wounds that need assistance patching. Seeing as while most forget I'm a licensed healer because, when a person is forced to be a killer, they can't do anything else." pausing to asses everyone's reactions and checking on the rest of our entourage, she continued, " there's no point in carrying on when emotions are high, and it's late. We'll continue this in the morning at a reasonable hour." sighing, she looked towards the Gryffindor head of the house, " Professor, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could someone show us towards those rooms?" after receiving a nod of affirmative, the rouge who became an ambassador turned and walked out of the great hall, leaving an uncertain silence in their wake as she followed the house elf that appeared.
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Tonks pov
As Callen and the others left the hall, I contemplated my following words before turning towards the rest of the room. My hair shifted colors, refusing to settle as I remembered the night in question, " It had probably only been a week after her sorting when the rest of us truly noticed her. She kept her head down, observed, and occasionally helped the firsties regardless of house. The older years had noticed and raged that some transfer could ignore how things were. They went after her discreetly at first, knocking into her in the halls hexes and jinxes when no teacher was around…" Pausing, I looked at the assembled group, shaking my head and almost dreading what I would reveal next. " She took it silently, started searching for spells to protect her bag, made a gesture of some kind, and simply turned and walked away. This went on for two weeks before a group of older boys decided to corner her on the seventh floor. They were from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, if ties are to be believed. What happened, I don't fully know; no one does except those who were there. From what I've been able to piece together, they went after her because she didn't talk and was a Slytherin, which, in their minds, a person who couldn't talk wouldn't be able to defend themselves nor deserved to walk these halls." I felt terrible for saying this, but looking around, I hesitated then. " I was walking in from the quidditch pitch with Bill and Charlie when it happened… There was a scream from the upper levels, and then there she was, going over the edge of the landing. The stairs had moved, so there was nothing but open air between her and the bottom. Callen seemed to regain consciousness in midair and then spin around so she could face the floor. All of a sudden, she angled herself and somehow was able to grab a railing to slow her descent. I remember hearing the pop as her shoulder separated, and then she crashed down at the bottom of the staircase with her snapped wand falling next to her right after. We rushed over thinking she was dead, then the little shit rolled over and stared at the ceiling for a second, rolled back onto her shoulders, leaped up onto her feet, looked at us, and with a bloody smile and torn robes, merely says You should see the other guy in this faint rasp then picks up her wand with a task and limps down to the dungeons with little more than a backward glance and placing her finger to her lips gesturing for us to be quiet. It wasn't until after she left that I wondered if I'd imagined her speaking because her lips hadn't moved from their smirk."
I look around again and can't help but snort at the looks of utter disbelief, " the next day, we walked into the great hall for breakfast and hung up on the banners for their respective houses where the boys responsible for their hair and skin showcasing house pride, their ties in their mouths, and the words 'pervert,' 'bully,' 'wannabe rapist' to name a few an' there she was, sitting at Slytherin table like nothing happened, stirring her tea with a split lip while flipping through a book." shaking my head at the utter absurdity of the situation, I sighed, "Dumbledore called her during the first class of the day, she got two months detention for something they couldn't even prove happened, and those boys got off scot-free with a two week stay in the infirmary for a sudden outbreak of chicken pox. Later in the week, Callen found us talking under a tree near the lake. She sat down, looked at the three of us, and said, 'Not bad, although it was a tad amateurish. I would have left them in their boxers, but not bad.' she smirked again and walked around the lake. It wasn't till she was about halfway around that we looked at each other and realized that sound never actually left her mouth." with that last bit of information, I turned to leave briefly, looking at Bonsey, "If that's all Boss, I'm going to go make sure Callen is alright, Morgana knows that now she remembers the cuffs existence she'll be up half the night figuring out how to break it." after receiving a brief nod I walked out of the hall in search of my favorite mischief maker.
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The fallen or Aeternus are an ancient race believed to initially be the children of angels, demons, and humans. Their origins are said to have been before the war that led to Lucifer's fall from grace and the banishment of those who remained undecided or followed him. Stories have been told of fallen angels, Nephilim, and the angel who chose love only to be cursed. Yet another remains untold, the story of an angel with a soul who had both divinity and infernals. It is said that the angel, only known today as prima, refused to choose between the Creator and her brother. When forced to choose or be cast out of the golden gates forever, Prima chose purgatory, and with one last look at those she considered family, she turned her back and faced the path less traveled. The unexpected occurred when 49 others followed her path into the unknown, thus becoming known as the originals. As millennia passed, the original families grew, and as more found their mates, new genes entered and gave way to a race that could shift into multiple forms of supernatural and divine beings of mythos.
But this story doesn't focus on the early days of creation; it focuses on the choices of one that cause a ripple effect upon the timeline, causing the fates to choose a champion who will set things right. As this champion is known, the Called are often revered or feared for their presence, which usually foretells the days of hardship.
You may ask who caused this ripple effect—why Albus Dumbledore, of course? Over the course of decades, there have been multiple instances where the 'leader of the light' has deemed himself godlike and used his students to fight his battles. Case in point: the Grindelwald wars during the 20s and 40s, although history will merely say they were roommates.
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Slytherin common room: present day
An eerie chill permeated the dungeons, unlike the everyday atmosphere of the lower levels. Almost as if the castle itself was holding its breath, waiting for the changes that the ambassador's unexpected arrival had brought. All seven years are present within the common room, and a divide is formed as the green-tinted light shines through from the lake. The elder years are on one side, the younger ones on the other, and the clueless firsties are in the middle. Draco Malfoy and Isabel Fawley sit separately from the rest, entrapped in a silent battle of wills. The following words of the Queen of Slytherin and the Slytherin Prince could change the course of history. They looked at each other across the divide of those who still followed their parents' path and those who had received a wakeup call courtesy of a mute American transfer who had started leaving books depicting muggle history ranging from slavery to the holocaust while not pulling punches upon their own country. Those who had started Hogwarts around the now ambassador's brief tenure recalled the hushed, rasped explanations and discussions that took the culture of the snake pit and upended it in secret. Only outwardly retaining the beliefs of superiority to the rest of the school and after the transfer's abrupt departure and only a note left behind did the new plans begin.
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Isabel pov
Thinking back upon the letter that was passed to me by the last leaders of the house upon their graduation with instructions on how to lead the house, I think of the mysterious girl who changed everything and the warrior who walked through those doors the night before and cannot help but wonder what led to the contents of the letter that I am about to reveal. Looking across to Malfoy, I see the cracks in his veneer of his father's influence where his mother's lessons no doubt still linger. 'So he isn't completely lost yet. The boy may carry the Malfoy name but was named after the stars. Let's see if the Black and Noctis blood shine through,' I think while suppressing the smirk that threatens to adorn my blank visage. "With recent changes, it seems as though by the will of Magick and the fates are currently at play. While usually, those of us apart of the old guard would expect everyone else to fall in line, this is an entirely different matter." seeing the spoiled prince open his mouth, I raise my hand, causing a hush to blanket the room. " this is not up for discussion there are things at work in the shadows that even our parents are ignorant to beings that are deciding to pull the strings of our fates as they see fit." pausing I summon the scroll that has been locked in my drawers and prick my finger placing three drops upon the seal. Unraveling it, I take a breath, then glancing around the room, read:
To whom it may concern,
With a heavy heart, bearing the weight of the responsibility that I have been forced to bear, I write this and defy the fates.
May my siblings forgive me this once.
I have sat back and watched as those who see you as other forge and taint your paths.
And I remember the history of this school that has been forgotten.
It was a time when the Five Founders came together and united this school to protect our youth, hoping that our separate races could come together in peace.
The proof was there when Ladies Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff saved the life of a being that fell from the sky one winter day. They had risked their lives rushing across the fragile ice to save an unknown that had crashed through and proceeded to provide aid even when they discovered that the stranger was a member of the fallen. A descendant of the Prima that was considered a creature to fear. Later, the four founders opened their doors to this being, and once she recovered, their kindness was rewarded with two words: a name and not just any name but her true name. As history has foretold, those who have access to another's true name have power over them. The four later took this name to their graves, but their descendants passed down a common name that has been lost to time with the lesson that if they hear this name, listen to what will be said next.
It is in this letter that I call upon that pact and invoke her name,
Astrea Noctis.
First of her name, protector of the Highlands, guardian of the silent, Fifth Founder of Hogwarts, Heir to the Eternal and Royal house of Noctem, Slayer of the forsaken, Wielder of Heosphoros.
Listen well, young ones, for there might come a time when these words will save your life.
A dark time is nearly upon us; as the years go on, my people's hidden war has continued to influence other supernatural and divine. I am tired of so much death and despair of seeing children raised to be soldiers and cannon fobber for a war that is not their own.
Before you finish reading this, you have to choose either read-on and seal your fate and the fates of those in the room or roll this letter back up and continue living your lives as they are.
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Pausing with that, I look up for the first time and see that the tension in the room has shifted, and people have started a silent battle of wills. Turning, I focus on the expressions of the younger members of the sacred 28 who have heard the history of their houses and the connections to the Original 49 houses of those who followed the Prima. These days, only members who are born into the houses know their origins. The Nott boy seems to be arguing with Malfoy while the other boys watch. In the corner, the Greengrass sisters hold court over the younger female population in a silent test of wills. 'I wonder if the eldest sister will be ready to take my place soon as graduation draws near. Hmmm, decisions, decisions.' after letting them all carry on for five minutes, getting nowhere, and recognizing time is running out, I speak, " Enough, this is not a matter of petty schoolyard rivalries. Our lives and futures are at stake; the scroll requires a unanimous decision. If even one of us disagrees, then the rest of the text will not revile itself, and we will carry on as we have with the original group selected, preparing to place ourselves accordingly while we sit on our hands and wait. Now, to settle this in a civilized manner," looking at the sparks emanating from my second wand, " If you agree to walk this new path, light your wands. Choose to follow the true old ways, or turn your backs and leave now, knowing that you will not be ridiculed for your choice but will be left stranded in the light while the rest seek the truth hidden in the shadows." with this; I stand casting Lumos and raising my wand high as the surrounding room has dimmed with the setting sun no longer peering through as the moon rises.
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No one pov
As the Slytherin queen raises her challenge, the rest of the room stares on in shock as they see a sign hidden by all to protect themselves from the blood traitors that have lost their way. The mark of the fallen shines upon Isabel Fawley's cheek as she smirks in defiance. Suddenly, her second raises their lit wand in a challenge against the house of cunning and ambition, goading the weary. After a brief pause, the Malfoy and Greengrass Heirs step forth. The prince and princess of Slytherin glance at each other as they raise their lit wands. A truce is made of the silent feud that has been waged between their two houses for generations is put to bed as the rest of the common room shines brighter with only a few who believe in the twisted views that supposedly fueled the death eaters slink off to their dorms as magic raps around them and their memories of the night's events are forever altered and they are marked as nonbelievers.
With this, history is made, and the other residents of the castle slumber un the wiser. Well, except one dower potions master looks on hidden within the entrance and speaks unheard, " I suppose this is what I deserve for doubting your chosen Ari. Forgive me for my foolishness." shaking his head, the bat of the dungeons walks into the room to be apart of the future that his old friend and secret mentor once foretold.
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Author suddenly appears sheepishly peering out from behind the page*
"so It's been awhile, things have been kind of crazy the past couple months and I needed time to take a break and refocus on classes after the semester started again. I'm slowly rereading chaos and making edits where I feel are needed when I have time which hasn't been much. updates will be sporadic but I am not giving up on this story."
thank you for coming on this journey with me,
Nyx
waves and slinks away slowly*