Chapter 1 – Starting the Journey (POV Syla)

Era un día soleado en el verano de Londres.

It was a sunny day in the London summer.

Normally for Syla, it was a joyful thing to see the city from the main bridge. The wind caressed her face as she watched thousands of people immersed in their lives. It reminded her of times when she was just a happy little girl, walking alongside the river with her parents. She admired the wonders of the city: majestic buildings centuries old, trees shedding their leaves in the breeze. Memories of happiness through the eyes of a young life were truly fascinating.

Those sweet memories clung to her soul, even though her eyes could no longer see them reflected in the present-day scene. What had once been a sacred temple to her had, due to the war, become a mirage. Part of her wished it was just a nightmare—but no. What she saw was worse than a bad dream. It was reality.

Midway through 1947, it was hard to believe that only two years had passed since the end of both the magical and the Muggle wars. It would take a long time before the joyful memories Syla held could return to London.

Bullet holes in the walls, shattered buildings, and people with scarred faces were the remnants left behind. What were once lively avenues now reflected the raw pain of the people. There was fear, uncertainty about the future, and complications in figuring out how to live again. It wasn't easy to return to the feeling of happiness that had existed before the war.

Though part of the reconstruction was already well underway, it would take decades before she could once again appreciate what she had once enjoyed.

"We do what we can with the time we have", thought Syla, recalling her father's words.

Mr. Vablatsky was a wise man, full of hopeful phrases like that one. She had listened to him with joy while growing up. She had discovered the world hand-in-hand with her father's quotes. She held them dearly in her heart. Now in her adulthood (she had turned 18 two months ago), those phrases echoed in her mind as responses to the world around her. Today, she needed them more than ever. She knew this was the day to take the next step.

Syla had woken up early and come to visit her favorite place before heading to the interview that would change her life. She hesitated, afraid, and deep down, she wasn't sure if it would work—but there was no turning back now. This was the path she would cling to in order to achieve her goal.

"Put one foot in front of the other. Control what you can, and see what happens", thought Syla, just as her father had written to her during her first winter at Hogwarts.

"A wise man", Syla told herself. She pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face and looked at her watch. Yes, it was time. I have to walk to Westminster to get there on time. She looked once more at the horizon and bid farewell to her favorite view.

She glanced at her watch again as she turned onto Horseferry Avenue. She was on time. A few minutes early, just as she had planned in case of any setbacks. Her destination was just a few blocks away. The Ministry of Magic was near.

As a child, she had gone there countless times, accompanying her mother to work, so finding the entrance fireplaces was easy. She used the extra time to admire the Ministry's façade.

This urban area seemed to be one of the few not heavily affected by the war. Sure, it had bullet marks and some cracks, but the Department of Magical Catastrophes had likely prioritized restoring the building after the conflict, returning its former splendor.

It was the symbol of the magical world, and therefore, it had to reflect the resolve of its members. The global war and the magical war against Grindelwald had ended. Times of peace had come, and above all, this emblem needed to reflect the present moment.

"If only it were that simple", Syla said to herself. "They can fix and repair this façade a thousand times, and still they won't erase the scars. They run deep in people. They can't be forgotten—not after… No, it's not the time to think about that. Today is a day to make decisions".

Syla stepped through one of the entrance fireplaces, disappearing in a brief flash of green fire from the Floo Network. A second later, she appeared in a fireplace at the center of the grand corridor.

It's said that the Ministry of Magic hasn't changed much since its establishment in 1707. A large hall made of brick, filled with hundreds of offices and statues of former Ministers, welcomed visitors to Level -8. This was the reception floor where people entered and exited the Ministry, with the other floors housing varius departments.

Syla knew the Ministry's layout by heart—after all, her mother had repeated it often.

Level -1: Ministry of Magic and Support

Level -2: Department of Magical Defense

Level -3: Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes

Level -4: Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures

Level -5: Department of International Magical Cooperation

Level -6: Department of Magical Transportation

Level -7: Department of Magical Games and Sports

Level -8: the main entrance of the Ministry

And finally, Level -9: Department of Mysteries.

To Syla, it was a place full of life. The only thing that compared for her was Hogwarts, which had been her home from childhood until her graduation just a few months ago. She could understand her mother's love for this space just as her mother understood what the school meant to her.

"Hogwarts", she reflected, "So far away and yet so close".

She had only beautiful memories of that place. Above all, she remembered the warmth of the Hufflepuff common room. Her favorite place to work, study, and talk. The space she enjoyed the most with her inseparable friends Evelyn and Anna over those 7 years—and the occasional visits from Robby in her later years.

Yes… it was her home, but now they were memories of the past. She was ready for new horizons. She had decided she had a purpose at the Ministry of Magic. This would be her new home—partly because of a desire to learn the mysteries beyond magic, and partly… yes, that other reason.

She shook her head.

"Time to move" on, she told herself. She walked quickly to the main elevator, an absurdly large structure that no Muggle engineering could ever explain. At the entrance stood a magical creature.

–Destination? the doorman asked.

–Level -1, administration, said Syla.

The elevator began to rise, with people getting on and off at each level. No one her age, and no one familiar. She was relieved—no distractions today.

–Level -1, Main Department of Magic and Support Staff, announced the magical creature.

Syla got off with a few other wizards. The main reception hall hadn't changed since she came here as a child. She knew exactly where to go. She headed straight to administration. She needed to check in and confirm that her acceptance letter had been properly entered.

In a few minutes, she passed a couple of guards, reached Office Number 3, and approached the front desk where a middle-aged witch had just finished helping someone.

She was surrounded by a multitude of floating filing cabinets. Each had a winged quill that was updating records, probably keeping track of those entering and exiting the Ministry. Syla had received in her reply letter that she had to present herself before the interview to be registered and receive her credentials.

Before she could speak, the witch finished her document, which flew directly into one of the filing cabinets, and then addressed her.

–Good morning, young miss, the secretary said. Welcome to the Ministry of Magic Support. How can I help you?

–Hello, I'm Syla Vablatsky, she replied. I'm here for a job interview. I have an appointment.

–Give me a moment, Miss Syla… Miss Syla… I have to look it up. There's been a lot of movement in recent months. Lots of Hogwarts graduates. I imagine you're one of them?

–Yes, I sent in my application a few days ago.

–Let me see… not even magic is fast enough to sort these applications.

With a wave of her wand, one of the applications flew out of a cabinet. It hovered in the air in front of the secretary.

–Here it is! Miss Syla Vablatsky! the secretary began, moving closer to the page. Graduated from Hogwarts, with honors! Hufflepuff, one of the top five in her year, and the only non-Ravenclaw. How interesting! An Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts in your NEWTs, Exceeds Expectations in other subjects, and just one Acceptable in Herbology. Recommendations from Professors Dippet and Galatea Merrythought. What an incredible résumé!

–Thank you, she nodded.

–Yes, incredible… Vablatsky… Excuse me for asking, are you related to Casandra Vablatsky?

–Yes, she's my aunt.

–How amazing! One of the greatest Seers to have ever lived, no doubt. They say she predicted the war and everything else. Thanks to your aunt's visions, many lives were saved.

–She's a wonderful person.

–I can see that… and well, I assume you applied to Magical Accidents? Or perhaps something more fun, like the Department of Magical Games and Sports?

–Well actually, I applied to the Department of Mysteries.

–Really? Someone like you? And which division exactly did you apply for… –she glanced at the application letter. The witch fell silent– This… must be a mistake.

–No… it's correct. I have an interview with Tom Riddle, for the position of Magical Investigator.