- Pronouns
- He/Him
Minerva Golding and the Wand of Silver (Harry Potter Deconstruction)
- Thread starter DragonCobolt
- Start date
- Mature Novel Fantasy
10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
I don't think that's the case.
In the story so far, wands have not been portrayed as mere status symbols. They are tools, specialized even. You got the military wands, the mass produced wands, the story hints at the existence of even more specialized wands for broom manufacture :
Now, maybe it's very well possible that any stick can be used to do magic.
But well, any stick can be used to dig a canal, but you're going to see more results when using an excavator.
- Location
- Sol III, Orion Arm, Milky Way
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Yes, but how much of the wand is absolutely necessary for spellcasting? Are there wands that exist without these magical cores? If the cores are necessary, then is the form factor of a wand simply more efficient, than say, a staff, a ring, a grimoire? Can you cast spells purely using the magical core of a wand?
How much of the rationale behind wizards using wands is strict necessity, and how much of it is simple tradition?
This latest revelation has cast everything into question.
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DracoDracul
Bigender Communist
- Location
- Austin
- Pronouns
- She/They
If I had to guess the ability to restrict magic foci has been a key part of both hlwhy a magic Aristocracy formed in the first place and in the maintaining that Aristocracy. Of course the fact that they can now be mass produced means when the cats out of the bag the whole thing falls apart.
The latest revelation makes it very clear that their is something special about wands that is either necessary for or drastically simplifies magic as otherwise the cat would have been out of the bag the first time a kid found a particularly cool looking stick.
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Twei
I have a face!
- Location
- the land where they write things
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Well, yes, but also no:
Between this, Cordwine's comments about fitting more runes on a desk than a broomstick, and the general vibes of magic (as cast by the British wizard establishment, at least), my impression is that the more specific and detailed, the more potency you can get out of a spell or an artifact. In that case, inlaid runes and other precision geometry is probably responsible for most of a modern wand's power. Maybe it's the materials, but I imagine those would have just been more expensive/rarer Back In The Day, and you would have been talking about good old wands versus cheap old wands versus new wands, rather than just old wands versus new wands. Either way, you can't get as much juice out of a cool stick.
Of course Harry's description there may not be perfectly accurate, he probably wouldn't know all the details or other things that might have changed over the years.
Overall, I'm looking forward to the prospect of a magical T-34 except the gun is a 'wand' of about the same size as, well, the main cannon
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- She/Her
I had to dig an old profile out just so I could leave a comment; thank you for writing this! I'm not the best at really putting to words why this hits me, but seeing this... fresh take? On Rowling's works in the wake of everything and it's just so full of a clear, careful appreciation for girllove in the face of adversity... And an earnest rage against the machine of fascism. Iunno I lost all my confidence in writing anything as I put this down so like. Yeah writing good me like the story
- Pronouns
- They/Them/She/Her
Ahh, right; I'd forgotten.ScottishMongol said:
Thanks for the insight in the post.
I do wonder if that's every case, still, though...
10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
There might be somewhat more open wizarding families, but they probably don't go to this school.
That said, the practice is probably strongly discouraged out of a combination of wizard chauvinism and desire to enforce the masquerade.
- Pronouns
- They/Them/She/Her
Those both make sense, I think.
Chapter Sixteen: Enraged
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Minerva woke with a soft gasp, her head lifting up. An arm laid over her chest and she was in a quiet, comfortable sitting room - and felt the warm tickle of breath against her neck. Shame and pleasure warred within her, mingling together as she remembered everything she had done last night. Her stomach knotted as she, also, remembered…
Petunia.
She slid quietly from the grasp of Melissa, turning back to look at the older woman. She was breathtakingly beautiful in the pale orange sunlight that dappled through the drawn curtains of the room, her ears at rest, her tail coiling lazily around the leg of the sofa she had drawn Minerva onto. Her body was bared to the world, and the urge to simply return to her embrace was almost overpowering. Minerva did allow the instinct to drive her - she leaned down and gently kissed Melissa on her cheek, before stepping out of the painting. She found her clothing was just where she had left it, and when she knelt down and took out her desk, then enlarged it, then opened the drawer, she was greeted by the furious squeak of Petunia's voice.
"Where on God's green earth were you?" She asked as Minerva realized she should have put on clothing first. "And i- oh!" She exclaimed, while Gregory averted his eyes and Minerva hastily shut the box once more.
"Shush," Minerva said, throwing her robes on. She buttoned them up, brushed her hair down flat, then started as the door rattled and clacked. She shoved her desk - shrunk once more - back into her pocket and tensed as she heard the door rattle again, and a cheerful voice came through.
"Melissa? You in?"
It was Professor Stengard, the scarred beasts teacher.
Minerva froze, while the door rattled again.
"I heard you in there, are you-"
"Give me just a moment, Lucas."
Professor Stevenson's voice, cool and calm, cut across the room as Minerva turned and saw her professor emerging, buttoning up her top and brushing her hair down flat. She tugged her leggings up, placed her hat upon her head, and then gently pushed Minerva back into the painting. There, Minerva could hear the muted sound of their conversation - like it was underwater.
"Have you heard that that the American President is going to be giving one of those radio chats he's so bloody fond of?" Professor Stengard said, his voice grim. "Think it'll be more of the Soviet's nonsense?"
"Without a doubt," Stevenson said. The door closed.
Minerva stepped out, frowning as she did so. She knew that Stevenson was acting this way to keep their secret. But oh, she…she wanted…she wanted too much. She wanted to hear what President Roosevelt had to say about this. She wanted to see what the world was doing. She wanted to pin down someone who knew the answers and ask them about the practice of magic in the earlier ages - and when, exactly, it was determined that blood was what cast spells, not the mind. She wanted…
Her stomach growled.
Breakfast.
Her hand to her belly and she made her decision. She'd find a private place and return Petunia to her full size and then-
Minerva stepped out and almost ran straight into Professor Ravenwood.
"Oh!" Minerva exclaimed as Ravenwood stepped back with a hiss. She was dressed in her best Sildanius robes and looked as if she had been in a tearing hurry - a hurry that was forgotten the instant she saw Minerva. She grabbed onto her arm, hissing furiously.
"Minerva Schross-Sableknight!" she said. "Last night, you went off into the wild blue yonder without permission, lured one of our better students into assisting you and, worst of all…" She leaned in and growled. "You cost us fifty points."
Minerva's fear transmuted quite shockingly into giddy laughter. "Points? You care about…fifty points? Who bloody cares about points right now?" She shook her head, then wrenched her arm from Ravenwood's grasp. The head teacher of House Sildanius hissed again, her golden eyes narrowing over her veil. "The whole world's gone barmy, I heard that the Americans are going to drop their masquerade too, and you're worrying about fifty points?"
Ravenwood's eyes narrowed further still. She let out a curious little trilling noise - the sound a bird might. Minerva was reminded, uncomfortably, of the strange face lurking behind that veil. She took a step back, fear gathering about what Professor Ravenwood would say to her outburst.
The response she got chilled her blood ice cold.
"Why were you in Professor Stevenson's rooms?" she asked.
"I was heading in to check if she was there for dueling practice," Minerva said, lying easily. "I can't make this week's practice."
"Interesting. You do practice with a Glintfair professor a great deal." Ravenwood stepped forward. "And always at the latest hours of the night. Very curious. You know that those practice arenas are open for the whole day."
Minerva took a step backwards. She almost bumped into the wall as Ravenwood looked down at her.
"Has she fallen into that disgusting habit of hers again?" Ravenwood hissed, softly.
"I have no idea what you mean, Professor," Minerva said, her voice steely, to try and hide the quivering of her knees. The excitement and danger of her love affairs had this other side to the coin, and it felt like it was about to crush her.
"Don't lie to me, I was at your inquisition," Ravenwood said, grabbing onto her ear, twisting her head to the side. "You think we can't cane a student if we need to? Would you rather confess now, or after we've used the truth charms on you?" She leaned in, her voice even more furious now.
"Let me go!" Minerva said, her voice desperate, her eyes half closed.
"Professor Ravenwood," a curious male voice cut across the corridor. "What's going on here?"
Ravenwood released Minerva with a hiss, turning to face Merlin, who was ambling down the corridor, his bright red tail flicking behind him.
"Simply disciplining a student of mine," Ravenwood said, quietly. "Headmaster-"
"If you have an accusation to make against my finest invocation teacher in years and the only one qualified who survived the 20th century thusfar, then I would like more than just hearsay and conjecture," Merlin said, dryly.
Ravenwood nodded, then turned and stalked off.
Minerva felt like collapsing with relief. She was so hungry and afraid now she was worried she'd cry.
"Are you all right, dear?" Merlin asked.
"Yes," Minerva sniffed. "Thank you, sir."
Merlin sighed, softly. "I would suggest you…suspend practicing with Professor Stevenson for a time."
Minerva nodded, mutely.
Merlin continued in his walking. Minerva rubbed her palms against her face and fled. To her absolute relief, she managed to emerge from the professor's wing without meeting any other - merely empty rooms and quiet offices, once filled and now left desolate.
She tried to not think of it as a metaphor.
When Minerva finally was able to bring out Petunia and Gregory, they were both looking rather the worse for wear - their clothing rumpled, their faces haggard. Minerva knew she was starving, so she did something she'd rather not. She clapped her hands twice and said: "Fae!"
Despite being in the middle of a quiet, unused classroom, a nude fae man stepped into the room, drawing a gape from Petunia and a shocked glance from Gregory. "We need food and fresh clothing for these students and myself," Minerva said. Then, quietly. "Apologies for the irregularity of it."
"No need to apologize, mistress," the fae said, bowing his head, then turning and stepping out. As the door closed, Gregory frowned.
"Mistress?" he asked.
"It's…the wizard folk keep the fae as servants," Minerva said. Then, feeling unable to bear up with Gregory right there, she corrected herself. "As slaves. But as far as wizarding crimes go, it's just one of many. Many." She shook her head.
"Lovely," Gregory said, frowning. "I'm beginning to think I should have stayed in the box."
"Just…" Minerva rubbed her palms against her face. "We need to find my friends, and…and plan what happens next."
"Just get me food and I can handle that box," Gregory said, then grinned. "I spent a year in the trenches and a childhood sharecropping. I can handle sitting in boring comfort for a few hours." He shook his head. "I'd rather that than risk being noticed as a non-wizard here. Which I think Petunia…" He glanced at her, and she and Minerva were forced to reflect on the difference between the blond, blue eyed Petunia and Gregory's tall, lanky, black form. "...can handle better than I."
"But Gregory, I don't want you to be trapped in there," Petunia said.
"I won't be trapped," Gregory said, grinning at her. "I'll be-"
The door opened and the fae returned, carrying silver trays heaped with food. And not just food, delicious food. And not just delicious food - but there was kosher food there. Bagels and cream cheese and delicious crumbly pastries that she just immediately wanted to cram down her mouth. She picked up a bagel, while the fae laid out a pair of robes and clothing for the two of them - but the robes for Gregory made Minerva look a bit mystified.
"What House are those for?" she asked. The robes looked a bit like the magical RAF uniform that Captain Cordwine wore, but rather than being a RAF uniform and a robe crossed together, it was a cross between a three piece suit out of some gangster movie and a set of robes. It even came with a fedora with a line of purple that set off the pale white and silver of the rest of the get up. Gregory picked up with a whistle.
"Well, I presumed the visiting American was from Underharvard or Yaletree," the fae said, politely.
"Oh, I…definitely went to Harvard," Gregory said, his voice dry. The fae inclined his head.
"As you say," he said.
"Thank you," Minerva said, her guilt squirming in her belly. Then she added the bagel to it, which helped more than she wished it did.
When the three of them emerged, with the fedora perched on his head and with Petunia's crutch under her arm, Minerva nodded to both of them. "Now, we need to find Selene and check with her - make sure she's willing to back up your story, Gregory." Petunia reached over to squeeze his arm and he flashed a wry smile at her. The three of them set off, Minerva frowning as she walked.
"Where is Selene usually?" Petunia asked, her cane clicking as her robes went swish - she was dressed in Sildanius colors, which would help not draw notice, with her standing beside Minerva and all.
"In the…ah…the medical ward," Minerva admitted, her cheeks darkening.
"Good lord," Petunia exclaimed. "Regularly? Is…oh! She's a nurse!"
"No she just…" Minerva wasn't sure how to even explain it. She sighed and said. "She's just an eager girl."
"I see," Gregory said, while they came to the medical wing of Hexgramatica, to find that the nurse was, in fact, examining a girl in House Wainscove colors…who happened to have the head and ears of a silver furred wolf. Her hands were somewhere between paw and fingers, and her eyes were bright golden. Upon seeing Minerva, she let out an excited sound between a bark and a yip.
"Minerva!" she said. "I did it!"
"...is this Selene?" Petunia whispered to Minerva.
"You…you did!" Minerva said, walking forward into the room.
"You were aware of this absurd girl's plans!?" The nurse asked, spinning around to face Minerva, glaring at her. "She could have permanently disfigured herself. As it is, she'll be back to normal in a day if she just would promise to take her potions."
"What if I took half my potions?" Selene suggested. "Whilst a muzzle is quite adorable, it does make drinking from cups difficult."
The nurse sighed - then started, jerking her head around to gape at Petunia. "Good lord, what is wrong with you, miss?" she asked, as Petunia stood at a crooked angle, her cane crooked under her. Petunia stammered something incoherent, but before she could so much as speak, the nurse had her sitting down and had began to examine her leg, her brow furrowing. She pulled the robes aside, then pushed the legging up and let out a soft hiss as she saw the brace and the distorted leg beneath.
"W-Well, it's just-"
"You got yourself cursed quite badly," the nurse said, clicking her tongue. "Who did it?"
"It was a cruel prank," Minerva said, quickly. She doesn't recognize polio, she thought, dizzy. Of course she doesn't. She's a wizard! This damage is for mundanes…isn't it?
"I keep telling people we shouldn't give you children wands until you're thirty," the nurse grumbled, then drew out her wand. She touched it to the leg and began to whisper a spell. Minerva caught one word in five - but that was enough for her to realize that the nurse was…essentially, describing a healthy leg using magical terms. She finished it off with an authoritative: "Kemb!" And then she tapped the leg.
The brace exploded off Petunia's leg with a spray of smoke and light. When the smoke cleared, there was a leg there. Petunia gaped down at it while the nurse sighed, then turned to face Selene. "Now drink your potion, you absurd creature."
"No," Selene said. "I wish to have a tail."
"If my goddaughter wants a tail, I suppose we can let her have one," Gregory said, dryly. Selene looked at him with her bright piercing eyes, while the nurse seemed to finally realize she had an older gentleman in the room with her. Her eyes widened as she saw his dark face, exotic robes, and warm smile. "Gregory Joad-Rutkis, of the Georgia Joad-Rutkises. I served with Selene's father, in the war."
"Uncle Greg!" Selene exclaimed with perfect timing, then sprang off the table and flung her arms around him in a tight hug, which took Gregory off guard.
"I…ah…I didn't know anyone was visiting from America," the nurse stammered. "A pleasure to meet one of the, um, Joad-Rutkises…" She clearly didn't have any idea who they were - but she was, like many people, not willing to admit ignorance in front of strangers. "But we can't just leave her like this, she drank toxic magical materials."
"Only enough to make me into a wolf girl," Selene said, drawing away from her 'uncle.'
"How about the half potion, then," Gregory said as Minerva watched this all, hands over her mouth - covering a delighted giggle.
"...that will…make her have wolf ears and a tail, but no other signs of deformity," the nurse admitted.
"That sounds like enough wolf for any girl, eh?" Gregory asked, playing the role of 'godfather who spoils his favorite goddaughter rotten' to the hilt. Selene nodded, and when the nurse offered the half potion, she drank it down. Minerva saw that she was right. It was hard to drink with a muzzle - but she managed it, with only light spilling. It was then that Minerva noticed that Petunia had begun to weep silently. She shifted, moving between Petunia and the nurse as the muzzle on Selen's face snapped back to a nose, her jaw retracting and shifting, her fur falling off in clumps until she shook her head and it burst away from her in a thistle-like explosion of silvery fur. Once she was done, she looked like Selene again - albeit with wolf ears, tail, and golden eyes.
"There, now you can at least stop trying to deliberately injure yourself," the nurse said.
"I shall be quite careful," Selene said. "Come, Uncle Greg, I must show you the school!" She took his arm and dragged him out, while Minerva took Petunia under the arm, helping her to her feet. Despite her leg seeming healthy Petunia still almost collapsed when she put weight on it, gasping in shock as her knee quivered, then firmed. She stood taller, then whispered through her tears.
"I-I can walk…"
But Minerva did not release her as they emerged from the medical ward. Once they were out, Petunia burst into tears once more. She threw her arms around Minerva and Minerva held her tightly as Petunia leaned into her.
"I'm mad," Petunia whispered. "I'm furious! I'm…so happy. I'm sad. I don't even know. How dare she…she just…without even asking. But I…I'm so…oh!" She buried her face against Minerva's neck and Minerva patted her shoulders. She couldn't even imagine what it was that was running through Petunia's mind - how much pain and confusion and identity had been wrapped around that leg, brace and crutch. All gone in an instant - even if it was an end to pain, a return of mobility, a fixing of an old ill…the feelings had to be complex and intense.
And so, she continued to gently hold Petunia.
"Ah, another girl being caught in your web?"
Minerva lifted her head and saw Kat, Gina, and Harry coming down the corridor, Kat's hands in her pocket, and her grin wicked.
"Oh, no!" Petunia exclaimed, springing away, sniffing and wiping at her nose, her face, sniffing once more. "No, we're not such…I…"
"Who is she?" Gina asked.
"This is Petunia," Minerva said, putting her hand on her back. "And we need to meet again in secret. Harry…can you get Robert?"
"I can," Harry said, frowning as he looked over at Gregory, and then at Selene. "Why does Selene…you know what? Nevermind."
In the private room, Minerva paced back and forth and finished with: "And thus, we came back here. And that's everything that happened." She sighed. "I know some of you may not believe it. But it is true. Both Gregory and Petunia are mundanes, and yet…" Her hand gestured to the bright green apples that Petunia and Gregory had conjured using her wands. Her eyes flicked to Robert - the only man in this group she didn't know fairly well. He stood beside Harry and his features seemed to be all angles and squares. She supposed he was breathtakingly handsome, for a man, but…it did nothing to flutter her heart. Hell, she felt as if she'd have more attraction to Gregory - at least his age and dignity and wry humor were something to catch on.
Fortunately, it seemed that Robert had only eyes for Harry, as he stood near to the younger student, and as he listened, his hand would sometimes go to Harry's hand, to gently squeeze him, to calm Harry's tensions.
"I wonder why it's happening now," Gina said, frowning. "If magic was something anyone could do, why would it only be now? Mundanes used to know magic was real. It was back in the old times, right? With King Arthur and stuff. Merlin. You know." She shifted from foot to foot. "We only had to hide when a mundane could use a gun to kill a wizard at a range, and there were so many of them."
Minerva rubbed her chin. Her hand dropped to her wand - but while her mind ranged along that possibility, Robert's leaped ahead as he said: "Modern wands are as better than a staff carved by a hedgewizard in the dark ages as…well, as a modern firearm is over one of those early black powder handguns, eh?"
"That does make sense," Minerva said, quietly.
Kat grinned. "Back in the day, it took decades to learn even how to cast, yes? But now, we can cast with a flick and a word. Much easier. More powerful."
"It's just a skill," Minerva said, frowning.
Gina blushed. "W-well, I mean, maybe…maybe there's something to the family thing? Such…s-some families are born, ah, with a musical talent? Right? Right?" She looked nervous. "...bugger."
"I do have one question," Selen said, raising her hand.
"Yes?" Minerva asked.
"Why did you abscond with the wireless from House Sildanius' homeroom?" Selene asked, pointing at the wireless, which was playing a soft, scratchy tune that Minerva had tuned very low and quiet.
"I've heard rumors that the Americans are going to be announcing something by wireless," Minerva said. "I wanted to hear it. But what the Americans do or don't do doesn't change our plan. We have to get the Wand of Silver out of here - we have some extra time, since it seems that Ars Magicka has been forced to focus on the Soviet issue." She frowned. "I can only hope they don't get up to too much mischief, though Captain Cordwine seemed to be rather upset after his meeting."
"You did mention that," Harry said, quietly. "Did he name anything? Anything at all?"
Minerva frowned at Harry's intent look and serious tone. "Unless I misheard, he said Azrielnacht. That's night, and the name. I think Azriel is supposed to be an angel or something…" She said, slowly. "I read it somewhere, I think…?"
She trailed off, seeing Harry's expression. His hand went to his chest and he sagged into the nearest empty seat.
"What is it?" Kat asked, frowning.
"I…my…Mr. Villamont…" Harry rubbed his palms over his face. "He was involved with a lot of the end of the war - he was gassed in the last attack of the final battle, on November 12th, in the astral realm. It was a fight to capture the site of a Prussian ritual. The Azrielnacht. It was…a…blood curse. Derived from some pre-wizarding magic, witchery from way back, from the Crusades, except they never actually did it back then. Just theory, nobody was strong enough to cast it, but the Prussians had made it. They never used it, and they were going to destroy it before the armistice."
"Wait, destroy it?" Minerva asked. "Why attack?"
"Because the War Ministry didn't want it to be destroyed. They wanted it intact," Harry said. "From what Mr. Villamont told me, from what I've heard…the Azrielnacth was too terrible even for the Prussian General Staff to unleash. They used gas, Minerva. They used gas and they used weirdingergers and the Nightmare Child, but they wouldn't dare to use this. Minerva?"
Minerva rubbed her palms over her chest.
"I remember where I read it. Azriel is the name that Moslims use for the angel of death," she whispered, the memory sparking in her mind from some library book of foreign myths. "As in, curses on Egypt and all that."
"They named a spell after that guy?" Gregory asked. "The plague of frogs fellow?"
"Frog, singular," Minerva replied automatically, a strange fact dredged up from her grandmother's stories. "And no, I think they were thinking of one of the other plagues." She shook her head and walked forward, glaring down at Harry. "Tell me what it does, Harry."
"I don't know, Minerva!" Harry said.
"Your uncle told you a lot of things-"
"But not this!" Harry said.
"You said you looked into things!" Minerva grabbed his shoulders. "What does it do, Harry!"
"I didn't want to know, Minerva!" He stepped away, shoving her hands off. "I…I didn't want to know! I didn't look. I…I had to live there, Minerva. I had to live with that man." He looked aside, Robert sliding an arm around his shoulder as Kat took Minerva's arms, gently drawing her away as Minerva's heart raced in her breast. She closed her eyes, but the vision in her mind, of an terrible angel coming down and slaying anyone in a home, stealing breath and life and-
Her blood ran cold.
Her eyes opened.
"They were discussing what to do about the Soviets," she whispered.
"Mein Gott," Katt said, her hands tightening around Minerva's shoulders.
Gina, who was watching this, looked nervous. She shook her head.
"N-No. There's no chance that the government would do that. It wouldn't be honorable!" She said, sounding nervous, her voice tight. "Whatever it is, it can't be that. You must have misheard. Or misunderstood! Or…" She trailed off, then closed her eyes. "What do we do? This isn't't like the wand of silver. This is going on in London."
"Well, if it's a blood curse," Robert said, quietly. "I know someone who can smell out a blood curse from half a world away."
His eyes and Minerva's eyes met.
She nodded.
The memory of the scratchy sound of the wireless rang in Minerva's ears as she walked down the corridors of Hexgramatica, her friends filing after her, their feet making soft scuffing noises as they strode forward through the quiet and the dark.
"Several days before, we received the most remarkable of announcements from the Soviet Union - the revelation that a new force has been unleashed into the world, as powerful as electricity or steam power. This force is, in fact, an old force. One kept secret in Europe and, through our shared brotherhood, in America as well. That force is to be revealed in America today..the force of magic."
Minerva came to the doorway that led down to where the Enrage was kept. She pushed it open with her palm, then turned back to the others. Harry had his hand at the ready, as did Kat. Minerva drew her wand and breathed in. Each of them nodded. They started down the stairs.
"This remarkable ability, which is innate to a few lucky individuals, allows for the creation of what would normally be called impossible, with but a few specially chosen words and a select tool. This may fill you with fear or apprehension. My friends, I am here to tell you that both reactions are imprudent and unwarranted. While they lived in secret and worked in secret, these incredible people were as American as you or me. They are called wizards, and now, thanks to their being brought into the light of day, we are working to ensure they will cooperate with the government and the interests that drive our economy directly."
Minerva strode down the stairs and then hesitated, fractionally, before she stepped out into the room with the Watcher. She breathed in, then sprang out. SHe hit the ground, rolled, and flicked her wand. "Kemb Drit So!"
The tip of the wand glowed and, as the Watcher sprang forward, the ground humped upwards, forming into an uneven, crenelated wall. One leg caught on the edge of one such crenelation and the other went over. The whole beast started to tumble to the side, crashing down shoulder first. The Watcher skidded, tail lashing, three heads screeching loudly as Harry, Kat, Gina and Selene stepped out, aimed their wands. A chorus rang out.
"Cidak Mru-Trom So!"
Green lightning slammed repeatedly into the Watcher's chest and shoulders, causing it to roar in pain and agony. Flesh boiled, rippled, then exploded into a wave of hissing steam as one of the green lightning bolts bit deep - but despite the damage, the Watcher shook itself, rolled and came to its feet, snarling. Smoke wafted from around the mouths of each of the three hound heads, and it swung around as Minerva tensed, then shouted. "Duck!"
"We expect that with the power of wizardry in our hands, the return to prosperity and, more importantly, to peace around the world will be swifter and easier than we can imagine. Even now, Congress is working to draft the Act of Arcane Institutions - to best integrate these wizards to our society and our world."
The flames roared out from the beast's mouths. The flames licked along the walls and floor as Kat rolled out of the way and came to her feet, smoke drifting from her robes. One head swung around to snap at her - but instead of closing teeth around shoulder or arm, the nose instead met the sharp knuckles of her trench wand. The whole head jerked backwards and the watcher let out a squeak as Gina thrust her wand into the mouth of another head.
"Cidak Mru-Trom So!"
The bolt of lightning fired from the wand burst from the top of the watcher's third head, and the other two heads howled in agony. But it still did not seem even close to dying. Minerva scowled, then realized something. She looked up, then down, then swept her wand down in a curving arc, shouting. "Kemb Drit Miċelnes So!"
The ceiling shuddered, then grew a spear of stone thick enough around to have crushed a car. The tip slammed into the spine of the Watcher, crunched into the floor, and then went still. The last two surviving heads whimpered. Blood splattered the floor. Then it dropped dead - and glowed brilliantly. A moment later, it had reverted to the collection of metal tubes, pipes, wires and bits of cloth that was a Watcher's true shape.
Gina panted, lowering her wand. "That was bracing!"
"Hurry," Minerva said. "If my occlusion spell worked, then they won't notice that for some time - long enough to get her out."
They all strode forward, and with Robert at her back, Minerva came to the door she had visited so often in her dreams. The door waited for her. She pointed at it and snarled. "Kemb Drit Deur." She flicked her wand and the door squealed and ripped open. Light shone in, spilling along the leather clad, wire studded body of Cecillia Morganna-Wellesley II.
She lifted her head, her eyes glowing with shimmering red light as she husked out. "Took you long enough, little Witchling," she whispered, her voice a quiet croon.
"Cut her down," Minerva said. "We have to get her out of here." She stepped close, cupping Cecillia's cool cheek. The vampire's lips kissed to her palm, making her heart race, her cheeks flushing furiously while Harry and Kat went to the restraints, and softly, softly, Cecilia whispered to her.
"A terrible darkness grows in London. Vileness. Twisted. Distorted. I've smelled this magic when it was pure and clean, witchling," she whispered, then sagged into Minerva's arms, Minerva taking her weight.
"We know," Minerva said. "That's why-"
She turned.
And heard the clattering sound as Selene dropped her wand, and Robert yelped in surprise.
For striding into the room, hands collapsed together, face stern and furious, was Merlin, flanked by Professor Ravenwood and Stevenson and Stengrad, their wands leveled ahead of them.
Merlin looked down his red nose at Minerva.
"I am very disappointed in you, Schross-Sableknight," he said, quietly. "Very, very disappointed in you."
Minerva squared her shoulders.
"My name," she said, her lips twisting in a scowl. "Is Golding."
She thrust out her wand.
"Cidak Slan Man!"
The bolt of lightning flew out and struck Merlin's palm. He caught it, clutched it, held it up, then opened his palm. Smoke exploded between his fingers, drifting upwards - and Minerva gaped in clear shock.
Three stun spells hit her at once.
Petunia.
She slid quietly from the grasp of Melissa, turning back to look at the older woman. She was breathtakingly beautiful in the pale orange sunlight that dappled through the drawn curtains of the room, her ears at rest, her tail coiling lazily around the leg of the sofa she had drawn Minerva onto. Her body was bared to the world, and the urge to simply return to her embrace was almost overpowering. Minerva did allow the instinct to drive her - she leaned down and gently kissed Melissa on her cheek, before stepping out of the painting. She found her clothing was just where she had left it, and when she knelt down and took out her desk, then enlarged it, then opened the drawer, she was greeted by the furious squeak of Petunia's voice.
"Where on God's green earth were you?" She asked as Minerva realized she should have put on clothing first. "And i- oh!" She exclaimed, while Gregory averted his eyes and Minerva hastily shut the box once more.
"Shush," Minerva said, throwing her robes on. She buttoned them up, brushed her hair down flat, then started as the door rattled and clacked. She shoved her desk - shrunk once more - back into her pocket and tensed as she heard the door rattle again, and a cheerful voice came through.
"Melissa? You in?"
It was Professor Stengard, the scarred beasts teacher.
Minerva froze, while the door rattled again.
"I heard you in there, are you-"
"Give me just a moment, Lucas."
Professor Stevenson's voice, cool and calm, cut across the room as Minerva turned and saw her professor emerging, buttoning up her top and brushing her hair down flat. She tugged her leggings up, placed her hat upon her head, and then gently pushed Minerva back into the painting. There, Minerva could hear the muted sound of their conversation - like it was underwater.
"Have you heard that that the American President is going to be giving one of those radio chats he's so bloody fond of?" Professor Stengard said, his voice grim. "Think it'll be more of the Soviet's nonsense?"
"Without a doubt," Stevenson said. The door closed.
Minerva stepped out, frowning as she did so. She knew that Stevenson was acting this way to keep their secret. But oh, she…she wanted…she wanted too much. She wanted to hear what President Roosevelt had to say about this. She wanted to see what the world was doing. She wanted to pin down someone who knew the answers and ask them about the practice of magic in the earlier ages - and when, exactly, it was determined that blood was what cast spells, not the mind. She wanted…
Her stomach growled.
Breakfast.
Her hand to her belly and she made her decision. She'd find a private place and return Petunia to her full size and then-
Minerva stepped out and almost ran straight into Professor Ravenwood.
"Oh!" Minerva exclaimed as Ravenwood stepped back with a hiss. She was dressed in her best Sildanius robes and looked as if she had been in a tearing hurry - a hurry that was forgotten the instant she saw Minerva. She grabbed onto her arm, hissing furiously.
"Minerva Schross-Sableknight!" she said. "Last night, you went off into the wild blue yonder without permission, lured one of our better students into assisting you and, worst of all…" She leaned in and growled. "You cost us fifty points."
Minerva's fear transmuted quite shockingly into giddy laughter. "Points? You care about…fifty points? Who bloody cares about points right now?" She shook her head, then wrenched her arm from Ravenwood's grasp. The head teacher of House Sildanius hissed again, her golden eyes narrowing over her veil. "The whole world's gone barmy, I heard that the Americans are going to drop their masquerade too, and you're worrying about fifty points?"
Ravenwood's eyes narrowed further still. She let out a curious little trilling noise - the sound a bird might. Minerva was reminded, uncomfortably, of the strange face lurking behind that veil. She took a step back, fear gathering about what Professor Ravenwood would say to her outburst.
The response she got chilled her blood ice cold.
"Why were you in Professor Stevenson's rooms?" she asked.
"I was heading in to check if she was there for dueling practice," Minerva said, lying easily. "I can't make this week's practice."
"Interesting. You do practice with a Glintfair professor a great deal." Ravenwood stepped forward. "And always at the latest hours of the night. Very curious. You know that those practice arenas are open for the whole day."
Minerva took a step backwards. She almost bumped into the wall as Ravenwood looked down at her.
"Has she fallen into that disgusting habit of hers again?" Ravenwood hissed, softly.
"I have no idea what you mean, Professor," Minerva said, her voice steely, to try and hide the quivering of her knees. The excitement and danger of her love affairs had this other side to the coin, and it felt like it was about to crush her.
"Don't lie to me, I was at your inquisition," Ravenwood said, grabbing onto her ear, twisting her head to the side. "You think we can't cane a student if we need to? Would you rather confess now, or after we've used the truth charms on you?" She leaned in, her voice even more furious now.
"Let me go!" Minerva said, her voice desperate, her eyes half closed.
"Professor Ravenwood," a curious male voice cut across the corridor. "What's going on here?"
Ravenwood released Minerva with a hiss, turning to face Merlin, who was ambling down the corridor, his bright red tail flicking behind him.
"Simply disciplining a student of mine," Ravenwood said, quietly. "Headmaster-"
"If you have an accusation to make against my finest invocation teacher in years and the only one qualified who survived the 20th century thusfar, then I would like more than just hearsay and conjecture," Merlin said, dryly.
Ravenwood nodded, then turned and stalked off.
Minerva felt like collapsing with relief. She was so hungry and afraid now she was worried she'd cry.
"Are you all right, dear?" Merlin asked.
"Yes," Minerva sniffed. "Thank you, sir."
Merlin sighed, softly. "I would suggest you…suspend practicing with Professor Stevenson for a time."
Minerva nodded, mutely.
Merlin continued in his walking. Minerva rubbed her palms against her face and fled. To her absolute relief, she managed to emerge from the professor's wing without meeting any other - merely empty rooms and quiet offices, once filled and now left desolate.
She tried to not think of it as a metaphor.
***
When Minerva finally was able to bring out Petunia and Gregory, they were both looking rather the worse for wear - their clothing rumpled, their faces haggard. Minerva knew she was starving, so she did something she'd rather not. She clapped her hands twice and said: "Fae!"
Despite being in the middle of a quiet, unused classroom, a nude fae man stepped into the room, drawing a gape from Petunia and a shocked glance from Gregory. "We need food and fresh clothing for these students and myself," Minerva said. Then, quietly. "Apologies for the irregularity of it."
"No need to apologize, mistress," the fae said, bowing his head, then turning and stepping out. As the door closed, Gregory frowned.
"Mistress?" he asked.
"It's…the wizard folk keep the fae as servants," Minerva said. Then, feeling unable to bear up with Gregory right there, she corrected herself. "As slaves. But as far as wizarding crimes go, it's just one of many. Many." She shook her head.
"Lovely," Gregory said, frowning. "I'm beginning to think I should have stayed in the box."
"Just…" Minerva rubbed her palms against her face. "We need to find my friends, and…and plan what happens next."
"Just get me food and I can handle that box," Gregory said, then grinned. "I spent a year in the trenches and a childhood sharecropping. I can handle sitting in boring comfort for a few hours." He shook his head. "I'd rather that than risk being noticed as a non-wizard here. Which I think Petunia…" He glanced at her, and she and Minerva were forced to reflect on the difference between the blond, blue eyed Petunia and Gregory's tall, lanky, black form. "...can handle better than I."
"But Gregory, I don't want you to be trapped in there," Petunia said.
"I won't be trapped," Gregory said, grinning at her. "I'll be-"
The door opened and the fae returned, carrying silver trays heaped with food. And not just food, delicious food. And not just delicious food - but there was kosher food there. Bagels and cream cheese and delicious crumbly pastries that she just immediately wanted to cram down her mouth. She picked up a bagel, while the fae laid out a pair of robes and clothing for the two of them - but the robes for Gregory made Minerva look a bit mystified.
"What House are those for?" she asked. The robes looked a bit like the magical RAF uniform that Captain Cordwine wore, but rather than being a RAF uniform and a robe crossed together, it was a cross between a three piece suit out of some gangster movie and a set of robes. It even came with a fedora with a line of purple that set off the pale white and silver of the rest of the get up. Gregory picked up with a whistle.
"Well, I presumed the visiting American was from Underharvard or Yaletree," the fae said, politely.
"Oh, I…definitely went to Harvard," Gregory said, his voice dry. The fae inclined his head.
"As you say," he said.
"Thank you," Minerva said, her guilt squirming in her belly. Then she added the bagel to it, which helped more than she wished it did.
When the three of them emerged, with the fedora perched on his head and with Petunia's crutch under her arm, Minerva nodded to both of them. "Now, we need to find Selene and check with her - make sure she's willing to back up your story, Gregory." Petunia reached over to squeeze his arm and he flashed a wry smile at her. The three of them set off, Minerva frowning as she walked.
"Where is Selene usually?" Petunia asked, her cane clicking as her robes went swish - she was dressed in Sildanius colors, which would help not draw notice, with her standing beside Minerva and all.
"In the…ah…the medical ward," Minerva admitted, her cheeks darkening.
"Good lord," Petunia exclaimed. "Regularly? Is…oh! She's a nurse!"
"No she just…" Minerva wasn't sure how to even explain it. She sighed and said. "She's just an eager girl."
"I see," Gregory said, while they came to the medical wing of Hexgramatica, to find that the nurse was, in fact, examining a girl in House Wainscove colors…who happened to have the head and ears of a silver furred wolf. Her hands were somewhere between paw and fingers, and her eyes were bright golden. Upon seeing Minerva, she let out an excited sound between a bark and a yip.
"Minerva!" she said. "I did it!"
"...is this Selene?" Petunia whispered to Minerva.
"You…you did!" Minerva said, walking forward into the room.
"You were aware of this absurd girl's plans!?" The nurse asked, spinning around to face Minerva, glaring at her. "She could have permanently disfigured herself. As it is, she'll be back to normal in a day if she just would promise to take her potions."
"What if I took half my potions?" Selene suggested. "Whilst a muzzle is quite adorable, it does make drinking from cups difficult."
The nurse sighed - then started, jerking her head around to gape at Petunia. "Good lord, what is wrong with you, miss?" she asked, as Petunia stood at a crooked angle, her cane crooked under her. Petunia stammered something incoherent, but before she could so much as speak, the nurse had her sitting down and had began to examine her leg, her brow furrowing. She pulled the robes aside, then pushed the legging up and let out a soft hiss as she saw the brace and the distorted leg beneath.
"W-Well, it's just-"
"You got yourself cursed quite badly," the nurse said, clicking her tongue. "Who did it?"
"It was a cruel prank," Minerva said, quickly. She doesn't recognize polio, she thought, dizzy. Of course she doesn't. She's a wizard! This damage is for mundanes…isn't it?
"I keep telling people we shouldn't give you children wands until you're thirty," the nurse grumbled, then drew out her wand. She touched it to the leg and began to whisper a spell. Minerva caught one word in five - but that was enough for her to realize that the nurse was…essentially, describing a healthy leg using magical terms. She finished it off with an authoritative: "Kemb!" And then she tapped the leg.
The brace exploded off Petunia's leg with a spray of smoke and light. When the smoke cleared, there was a leg there. Petunia gaped down at it while the nurse sighed, then turned to face Selene. "Now drink your potion, you absurd creature."
"No," Selene said. "I wish to have a tail."
"If my goddaughter wants a tail, I suppose we can let her have one," Gregory said, dryly. Selene looked at him with her bright piercing eyes, while the nurse seemed to finally realize she had an older gentleman in the room with her. Her eyes widened as she saw his dark face, exotic robes, and warm smile. "Gregory Joad-Rutkis, of the Georgia Joad-Rutkises. I served with Selene's father, in the war."
"Uncle Greg!" Selene exclaimed with perfect timing, then sprang off the table and flung her arms around him in a tight hug, which took Gregory off guard.
"I…ah…I didn't know anyone was visiting from America," the nurse stammered. "A pleasure to meet one of the, um, Joad-Rutkises…" She clearly didn't have any idea who they were - but she was, like many people, not willing to admit ignorance in front of strangers. "But we can't just leave her like this, she drank toxic magical materials."
"Only enough to make me into a wolf girl," Selene said, drawing away from her 'uncle.'
"How about the half potion, then," Gregory said as Minerva watched this all, hands over her mouth - covering a delighted giggle.
"...that will…make her have wolf ears and a tail, but no other signs of deformity," the nurse admitted.
"That sounds like enough wolf for any girl, eh?" Gregory asked, playing the role of 'godfather who spoils his favorite goddaughter rotten' to the hilt. Selene nodded, and when the nurse offered the half potion, she drank it down. Minerva saw that she was right. It was hard to drink with a muzzle - but she managed it, with only light spilling. It was then that Minerva noticed that Petunia had begun to weep silently. She shifted, moving between Petunia and the nurse as the muzzle on Selen's face snapped back to a nose, her jaw retracting and shifting, her fur falling off in clumps until she shook her head and it burst away from her in a thistle-like explosion of silvery fur. Once she was done, she looked like Selene again - albeit with wolf ears, tail, and golden eyes.
"There, now you can at least stop trying to deliberately injure yourself," the nurse said.
"I shall be quite careful," Selene said. "Come, Uncle Greg, I must show you the school!" She took his arm and dragged him out, while Minerva took Petunia under the arm, helping her to her feet. Despite her leg seeming healthy Petunia still almost collapsed when she put weight on it, gasping in shock as her knee quivered, then firmed. She stood taller, then whispered through her tears.
"I-I can walk…"
But Minerva did not release her as they emerged from the medical ward. Once they were out, Petunia burst into tears once more. She threw her arms around Minerva and Minerva held her tightly as Petunia leaned into her.
"I'm mad," Petunia whispered. "I'm furious! I'm…so happy. I'm sad. I don't even know. How dare she…she just…without even asking. But I…I'm so…oh!" She buried her face against Minerva's neck and Minerva patted her shoulders. She couldn't even imagine what it was that was running through Petunia's mind - how much pain and confusion and identity had been wrapped around that leg, brace and crutch. All gone in an instant - even if it was an end to pain, a return of mobility, a fixing of an old ill…the feelings had to be complex and intense.
And so, she continued to gently hold Petunia.
"Ah, another girl being caught in your web?"
Minerva lifted her head and saw Kat, Gina, and Harry coming down the corridor, Kat's hands in her pocket, and her grin wicked.
"Oh, no!" Petunia exclaimed, springing away, sniffing and wiping at her nose, her face, sniffing once more. "No, we're not such…I…"
"Who is she?" Gina asked.
"This is Petunia," Minerva said, putting her hand on her back. "And we need to meet again in secret. Harry…can you get Robert?"
"I can," Harry said, frowning as he looked over at Gregory, and then at Selene. "Why does Selene…you know what? Nevermind."
***
In the private room, Minerva paced back and forth and finished with: "And thus, we came back here. And that's everything that happened." She sighed. "I know some of you may not believe it. But it is true. Both Gregory and Petunia are mundanes, and yet…" Her hand gestured to the bright green apples that Petunia and Gregory had conjured using her wands. Her eyes flicked to Robert - the only man in this group she didn't know fairly well. He stood beside Harry and his features seemed to be all angles and squares. She supposed he was breathtakingly handsome, for a man, but…it did nothing to flutter her heart. Hell, she felt as if she'd have more attraction to Gregory - at least his age and dignity and wry humor were something to catch on.
Fortunately, it seemed that Robert had only eyes for Harry, as he stood near to the younger student, and as he listened, his hand would sometimes go to Harry's hand, to gently squeeze him, to calm Harry's tensions.
"I wonder why it's happening now," Gina said, frowning. "If magic was something anyone could do, why would it only be now? Mundanes used to know magic was real. It was back in the old times, right? With King Arthur and stuff. Merlin. You know." She shifted from foot to foot. "We only had to hide when a mundane could use a gun to kill a wizard at a range, and there were so many of them."
Minerva rubbed her chin. Her hand dropped to her wand - but while her mind ranged along that possibility, Robert's leaped ahead as he said: "Modern wands are as better than a staff carved by a hedgewizard in the dark ages as…well, as a modern firearm is over one of those early black powder handguns, eh?"
"That does make sense," Minerva said, quietly.
Kat grinned. "Back in the day, it took decades to learn even how to cast, yes? But now, we can cast with a flick and a word. Much easier. More powerful."
"It's just a skill," Minerva said, frowning.
Gina blushed. "W-well, I mean, maybe…maybe there's something to the family thing? Such…s-some families are born, ah, with a musical talent? Right? Right?" She looked nervous. "...bugger."
"I do have one question," Selen said, raising her hand.
"Yes?" Minerva asked.
"Why did you abscond with the wireless from House Sildanius' homeroom?" Selene asked, pointing at the wireless, which was playing a soft, scratchy tune that Minerva had tuned very low and quiet.
"I've heard rumors that the Americans are going to be announcing something by wireless," Minerva said. "I wanted to hear it. But what the Americans do or don't do doesn't change our plan. We have to get the Wand of Silver out of here - we have some extra time, since it seems that Ars Magicka has been forced to focus on the Soviet issue." She frowned. "I can only hope they don't get up to too much mischief, though Captain Cordwine seemed to be rather upset after his meeting."
"You did mention that," Harry said, quietly. "Did he name anything? Anything at all?"
Minerva frowned at Harry's intent look and serious tone. "Unless I misheard, he said Azrielnacht. That's night, and the name. I think Azriel is supposed to be an angel or something…" She said, slowly. "I read it somewhere, I think…?"
She trailed off, seeing Harry's expression. His hand went to his chest and he sagged into the nearest empty seat.
"What is it?" Kat asked, frowning.
"I…my…Mr. Villamont…" Harry rubbed his palms over his face. "He was involved with a lot of the end of the war - he was gassed in the last attack of the final battle, on November 12th, in the astral realm. It was a fight to capture the site of a Prussian ritual. The Azrielnacht. It was…a…blood curse. Derived from some pre-wizarding magic, witchery from way back, from the Crusades, except they never actually did it back then. Just theory, nobody was strong enough to cast it, but the Prussians had made it. They never used it, and they were going to destroy it before the armistice."
"Wait, destroy it?" Minerva asked. "Why attack?"
"Because the War Ministry didn't want it to be destroyed. They wanted it intact," Harry said. "From what Mr. Villamont told me, from what I've heard…the Azrielnacth was too terrible even for the Prussian General Staff to unleash. They used gas, Minerva. They used gas and they used weirdingergers and the Nightmare Child, but they wouldn't dare to use this. Minerva?"
Minerva rubbed her palms over her chest.
"I remember where I read it. Azriel is the name that Moslims use for the angel of death," she whispered, the memory sparking in her mind from some library book of foreign myths. "As in, curses on Egypt and all that."
"They named a spell after that guy?" Gregory asked. "The plague of frogs fellow?"
"Frog, singular," Minerva replied automatically, a strange fact dredged up from her grandmother's stories. "And no, I think they were thinking of one of the other plagues." She shook her head and walked forward, glaring down at Harry. "Tell me what it does, Harry."
"I don't know, Minerva!" Harry said.
"Your uncle told you a lot of things-"
"But not this!" Harry said.
"You said you looked into things!" Minerva grabbed his shoulders. "What does it do, Harry!"
"I didn't want to know, Minerva!" He stepped away, shoving her hands off. "I…I didn't want to know! I didn't look. I…I had to live there, Minerva. I had to live with that man." He looked aside, Robert sliding an arm around his shoulder as Kat took Minerva's arms, gently drawing her away as Minerva's heart raced in her breast. She closed her eyes, but the vision in her mind, of an terrible angel coming down and slaying anyone in a home, stealing breath and life and-
Her blood ran cold.
Her eyes opened.
"They were discussing what to do about the Soviets," she whispered.
"Mein Gott," Katt said, her hands tightening around Minerva's shoulders.
Gina, who was watching this, looked nervous. She shook her head.
"N-No. There's no chance that the government would do that. It wouldn't be honorable!" She said, sounding nervous, her voice tight. "Whatever it is, it can't be that. You must have misheard. Or misunderstood! Or…" She trailed off, then closed her eyes. "What do we do? This isn't't like the wand of silver. This is going on in London."
"Well, if it's a blood curse," Robert said, quietly. "I know someone who can smell out a blood curse from half a world away."
His eyes and Minerva's eyes met.
She nodded.
***
The memory of the scratchy sound of the wireless rang in Minerva's ears as she walked down the corridors of Hexgramatica, her friends filing after her, their feet making soft scuffing noises as they strode forward through the quiet and the dark.
"Several days before, we received the most remarkable of announcements from the Soviet Union - the revelation that a new force has been unleashed into the world, as powerful as electricity or steam power. This force is, in fact, an old force. One kept secret in Europe and, through our shared brotherhood, in America as well. That force is to be revealed in America today..the force of magic."
Minerva came to the doorway that led down to where the Enrage was kept. She pushed it open with her palm, then turned back to the others. Harry had his hand at the ready, as did Kat. Minerva drew her wand and breathed in. Each of them nodded. They started down the stairs.
"This remarkable ability, which is innate to a few lucky individuals, allows for the creation of what would normally be called impossible, with but a few specially chosen words and a select tool. This may fill you with fear or apprehension. My friends, I am here to tell you that both reactions are imprudent and unwarranted. While they lived in secret and worked in secret, these incredible people were as American as you or me. They are called wizards, and now, thanks to their being brought into the light of day, we are working to ensure they will cooperate with the government and the interests that drive our economy directly."
Minerva strode down the stairs and then hesitated, fractionally, before she stepped out into the room with the Watcher. She breathed in, then sprang out. SHe hit the ground, rolled, and flicked her wand. "Kemb Drit So!"
The tip of the wand glowed and, as the Watcher sprang forward, the ground humped upwards, forming into an uneven, crenelated wall. One leg caught on the edge of one such crenelation and the other went over. The whole beast started to tumble to the side, crashing down shoulder first. The Watcher skidded, tail lashing, three heads screeching loudly as Harry, Kat, Gina and Selene stepped out, aimed their wands. A chorus rang out.
"Cidak Mru-Trom So!"
Green lightning slammed repeatedly into the Watcher's chest and shoulders, causing it to roar in pain and agony. Flesh boiled, rippled, then exploded into a wave of hissing steam as one of the green lightning bolts bit deep - but despite the damage, the Watcher shook itself, rolled and came to its feet, snarling. Smoke wafted from around the mouths of each of the three hound heads, and it swung around as Minerva tensed, then shouted. "Duck!"
"We expect that with the power of wizardry in our hands, the return to prosperity and, more importantly, to peace around the world will be swifter and easier than we can imagine. Even now, Congress is working to draft the Act of Arcane Institutions - to best integrate these wizards to our society and our world."
The flames roared out from the beast's mouths. The flames licked along the walls and floor as Kat rolled out of the way and came to her feet, smoke drifting from her robes. One head swung around to snap at her - but instead of closing teeth around shoulder or arm, the nose instead met the sharp knuckles of her trench wand. The whole head jerked backwards and the watcher let out a squeak as Gina thrust her wand into the mouth of another head.
"Cidak Mru-Trom So!"
The bolt of lightning fired from the wand burst from the top of the watcher's third head, and the other two heads howled in agony. But it still did not seem even close to dying. Minerva scowled, then realized something. She looked up, then down, then swept her wand down in a curving arc, shouting. "Kemb Drit Miċelnes So!"
The ceiling shuddered, then grew a spear of stone thick enough around to have crushed a car. The tip slammed into the spine of the Watcher, crunched into the floor, and then went still. The last two surviving heads whimpered. Blood splattered the floor. Then it dropped dead - and glowed brilliantly. A moment later, it had reverted to the collection of metal tubes, pipes, wires and bits of cloth that was a Watcher's true shape.
Gina panted, lowering her wand. "That was bracing!"
"Hurry," Minerva said. "If my occlusion spell worked, then they won't notice that for some time - long enough to get her out."
They all strode forward, and with Robert at her back, Minerva came to the door she had visited so often in her dreams. The door waited for her. She pointed at it and snarled. "Kemb Drit Deur." She flicked her wand and the door squealed and ripped open. Light shone in, spilling along the leather clad, wire studded body of Cecillia Morganna-Wellesley II.
She lifted her head, her eyes glowing with shimmering red light as she husked out. "Took you long enough, little Witchling," she whispered, her voice a quiet croon.
"Cut her down," Minerva said. "We have to get her out of here." She stepped close, cupping Cecillia's cool cheek. The vampire's lips kissed to her palm, making her heart race, her cheeks flushing furiously while Harry and Kat went to the restraints, and softly, softly, Cecilia whispered to her.
"A terrible darkness grows in London. Vileness. Twisted. Distorted. I've smelled this magic when it was pure and clean, witchling," she whispered, then sagged into Minerva's arms, Minerva taking her weight.
"We know," Minerva said. "That's why-"
She turned.
And heard the clattering sound as Selene dropped her wand, and Robert yelped in surprise.
For striding into the room, hands collapsed together, face stern and furious, was Merlin, flanked by Professor Ravenwood and Stevenson and Stengrad, their wands leveled ahead of them.
Merlin looked down his red nose at Minerva.
"I am very disappointed in you, Schross-Sableknight," he said, quietly. "Very, very disappointed in you."
Minerva squared her shoulders.
"My name," she said, her lips twisting in a scowl. "Is Golding."
She thrust out her wand.
"Cidak Slan Man!"
The bolt of lightning flew out and struck Merlin's palm. He caught it, clutched it, held it up, then opened his palm. Smoke exploded between his fingers, drifting upwards - and Minerva gaped in clear shock.
Three stun spells hit her at once.
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Selene is very correct for this imo
- Location
- United Kingdom
- Pronouns
- She/Her
oh boy oh boy
what is even the point of doing whatever azrielnacht is on the soviets? you aren't putting the cat back in the bag. its just cruelty for cruelty's sake.
which i guess is the answer to my question.
what is even the point of doing whatever azrielnacht is on the soviets? you aren't putting the cat back in the bag. its just cruelty for cruelty's sake.
which i guess is the answer to my question.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
So, I have vague memories of the harry potter series being huge dicks to Luna, despite her being the best, so Selene just gets everything she wants
- Location
- Ottawa
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Whatever
it's just great how those books treat the clearly neurodivergent child whose main crime is believing in magic in a world of magic as a stupid, ignorant conspiracy theorist isn't it
like you could have had something if the rules of harry potter magic were super well defined but instead we have a fantasy book about a magical world of infinite possibilities explicitly shit on the one character genuinely excited to live in a magical world of infinite possibilities
like you could have had something if the rules of harry potter magic were super well defined but instead we have a fantasy book about a magical world of infinite possibilities explicitly shit on the one character genuinely excited to live in a magical world of infinite possibilities
- Location
- United Kingdom
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Luna: i think there could be creatures which we dismiss as imaginary but are actually real
Hermione, who discovered dragons fucking exist only about 4 years ago: thats crazy, you're crazy, you're an idiot, shut up, fuck off.
also her introductory scene is literally her going "thestrals are real" when everyone else is going "thestrals aren't real!" and she's right, but then after that it is all the way on "she's crazy and a conspiracy theorist and should be mocked"
A really elegant explanation. Magical society is less blindly prejudiced, and more stuck on a preconception - it used to be that muggles couldn't do magic (or only rarely had the skills) and nobody bothered to re-check something that "everyone knows." Which makes it believeable that Minerva would be the first person to discover this.
Azrielnacht is a great name because it's one of those things that's confusing up front but obvious in hindsight. Like, when it was mentioned last chapter I just thought "Oh, that's a spooky-sounding German name," but when you translate it as "Night of the Angel of Death" and add the context of a Jewish heroine, it seems obvious what it does.
Also, I first learned the thing about "frog" being singular because of a Tumblr post, but apparently this discrepancy was noticed all the way back in the Talmud, so it's fair game for the 1930s.
- Location
- France
No, the real crime was making her actual conspiracy theories wrong.
In the books she not only believes in fun magical creatures - she also has real political conspiracy theories.
I think that the break-in to the Department of Mysteries, which is literally Wizard Area 51 and features weird brain and death experiments, would have been a lot cooler if it had included at least one of Luna's "crazy claims". I like the secret fire monster army, myself.
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hellgodsrus
Actual Real Game Dev!
- Location
- Behind You
- Pronouns
- She/Her
God this story is so good. I'm going to say something more coherent in a bit but that's the sum total of my thoughts at the moment
DracoDracul
Bigender Communist
- Location
- Austin
- Pronouns
- She/They
You just know some of her "conspiracy theories" are just things the Aurors admitted to like 20 years ago.
hellgodsrus
Actual Real Game Dev!
- Location
- Behind You
- Pronouns
- She/Her
OKAY SO TIME FOR COHERING (I hope).
I'm not someone who's ever come to the place of the Potter books from love. My relationship with them was always contentious - even when I felt compelled to read them, compelled is the right word for it; I never liked them as much as other, better books by better authors (shout out Duane, Wynne-Jones my beloved, and Le Guin), and I think I mostly read them because it felt expected, and because my mother, an academic, fucking hated Harry Potter. They've always had an odd sort of shadow over my life, but I've never liked them.
When I say this gets Harry Potter right, therefore, I don't just mean 'oh it doesn't have the dumb shit Rowling did in the later books'. I mean it finally makes me understand the appeal of the entire fucking universe. When Minerva worked out anyone could do magic, I fistpumped the air - my mother regularly has tales of talking to her students and them saying they wanted an owl from Hogwarts, and neither of us ever fucking understood that, but this made me get it because finally it's universal and it's ours, fuck all that Syndrome bullshit everyone gets magic. When Minerva enchanted her desk as her broomstick and it continued to stick up for her and be an awesome companion, I finally got the desire for a broomstick or an owl.
I did already have the desire to be railed by hot cat women and trans werewolf girls though so, no new ground to dig there though 
ok, that's a little disingenuous, since you manage to write wonderfully erotic stuff so it isn't like 'oh boy seen that before'. And you address just - so much -
I'm running out of coherence again, but this work isn't just good, it's important. Well done.
I'm not someone who's ever come to the place of the Potter books from love. My relationship with them was always contentious - even when I felt compelled to read them, compelled is the right word for it; I never liked them as much as other, better books by better authors (shout out Duane, Wynne-Jones my beloved, and Le Guin), and I think I mostly read them because it felt expected, and because my mother, an academic, fucking hated Harry Potter. They've always had an odd sort of shadow over my life, but I've never liked them.
When I say this gets Harry Potter right, therefore, I don't just mean 'oh it doesn't have the dumb shit Rowling did in the later books'. I mean it finally makes me understand the appeal of the entire fucking universe. When Minerva worked out anyone could do magic, I fistpumped the air - my mother regularly has tales of talking to her students and them saying they wanted an owl from Hogwarts, and neither of us ever fucking understood that, but this made me get it because finally it's universal and it's ours, fuck all that Syndrome bullshit everyone gets magic. When Minerva enchanted her desk as her broomstick and it continued to stick up for her and be an awesome companion, I finally got the desire for a broomstick or an owl.
I'm running out of coherence again, but this work isn't just good, it's important. Well done.
10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
It might not be targeted at the Soviets.
After all, the plagues were not aimed at a foreign country, there were aimed at Egypt, the country in which they were enslaved, so that the chosen people could move to the promised land.
Azriel might be a domestic clean-up operation, a tool to eliminate "anti-wizard" groups and populations inside the UK.
November 12th heh
So much for the armistice.
Syndrome was of course right in all aspects. Everyone should get superpowers, and New York is improved with a sphere walking around in it.
The silly thing too is that, in her effort to add random bits of canon. Rowling has stated that Luna would later become a magizoobiologist, and indeed prove the existence of all those random conspiracy creatures.
Like, Rowling wants to have her cake and eat it too. Everyone thinks the Quibbler is silly, but it is consistently revealed to be right later on. Thestrals, the deathly hallows, the existence of a secret cult of death eaters in the ministry (though one operating using regular fascism, not tooth decay)...
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Yeah, an older female authority figure caning Minerva isn't exactly a punishment. Quite the opposite, really.
FDR's first order of business after the Soviets revealed magic exists: get someone to heal his legs.
Second order of business: Run a marathon, walk up and down steps, and do any other physical activity he can think of that he finally can do for the first time in well over a decade.
I'm actually surprised he didn't bring that up during his fireside chat. I get he always kept being disabled under wraps, but it could have been pretty powerful of him to say something about how wizards personally healed him and could do the same for countless others.
Is that a Doctor Who reference? Because I think that's a Doctor Who reference.
Hell yeah! I know she immediately gets her ass handed to her, but got to love that Jewish pride and her public rejection of the blood supremacy ideology she now knows is complete and utter bullshit.
10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
I can see how htat would backfire, tbh.
If you demonstrate a quick and easy method of healing a disease that has crippled countless children, then people will immediatly start asking "why did you not do this earlier, if it is so easy". Better delay the revelation a year or two, and state that the polio cure is the result of working together.
King Washington
Semi-Depressed Lurker
- Location
- Indiana
I grew up with the film adaptations myself. I do quite remember the Basilisk in CoS in particular scaring the absolute shit out of me when I was a little kid. wasn't like a super fan or anything but my Mom was really into them.OKAY SO TIME FOR COHERING (I hope).
I'm not someone who's ever come to the place of the Potter books from love. My relationship with them was always contentious - even when I felt compelled to read them, compelled is the right word for it; I never liked them as much as other, better books by better authors (shout out Duane, Wynne-Jones my beloved, and Le Guin), and I think I mostly read them because it felt expected, and because my mother, an academic, fucking hated Harry Potter. They've always had an odd sort of shadow over my life, but I've never liked them.
When I say this gets Harry Potter right, therefore, I don't just mean 'oh it doesn't have the dumb shit Rowling did in the later books'. I mean it finally makes me understand the appeal of the entire fucking universe. When Minerva worked out anyone could do magic, I fistpumped the air - my mother regularly has tales of talking to her students and them saying they wanted an owl from Hogwarts, and neither of us ever fucking understood that, but this made me get it because finally it's universal and it's ours, fuck all that Syndrome bullshit everyone gets magic. When Minerva enchanted her desk as her broomstick and it continued to stick up for her and be an awesome companion, I finally got the desire for a broomstick or an owl.
I did already have the desire to be railed by hot cat women and trans werewolf girls though so, no new ground to dig there thoughok, that's a little disingenuous, since you manage to write wonderfully erotic stuff so it isn't like 'oh boy seen that before'. And you address just - so much -
I'm running out of coherence again, but this work isn't just good, it's important. Well done.
In one of the old houses we used to live in there was a small cupboard under the staircase which ended up getting dubbed the "Plopper Closet" (never got the opportunity to shove an abused orphan in there though).
Took me quite a while to pick up on the more... ah... problematic or at least poorly thought out aspects of HP and after Rowling's descent into fanatical TERFism I've sworn off interacting with any official new HP media anymore.
Twei
I have a face!
- Location
- the land where they write things
- Pronouns
- They/Them
So apart from everything that's already been said about this chapter (it's very good!!!), it also made me think about everyone's favorite incu-twink, and what his deal is-
As for where he stands, I don't think we've seen him really stick his neck out for Minerva or for his own supposed anti-fascist interests yet, or even quietly cover up some misdeed of Minerva's? Which I kinda imagine is intentional at this point, tbh; gotta wait and read to see which way he falls! I do feel like he's setting himself up to claim to have been on the winning side all along, regardless of how things end. Following the rules even when you absolutely shouldn't can be good for that, lol
Like... does he know? I feel like he might know.
WE haven't seen too many words from the Headmaster here, but his words always seem very carefully picked, often evading direct answers. He seems a bit faelike, tbh, which would make potential sense if he is indeed part demon? Being very careful to say only technical truths and never say anything he can be called out on.
As for where he stands, I don't think we've seen him really stick his neck out for Minerva or for his own supposed anti-fascist interests yet, or even quietly cover up some misdeed of Minerva's? Which I kinda imagine is intentional at this point, tbh; gotta wait and read to see which way he falls! I do feel like he's setting himself up to claim to have been on the winning side all along, regardless of how things end. Following the rules even when you absolutely shouldn't can be good for that, lol