Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7538665.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Ivanka_Vorstenbach/Taden_Wells, Charles_Prentiss/Dommi_O'Malley, past
      Charles_Prentiss/Lena_Vorstenbach, Lena_Vorstenbach/Rhys_Edmunds, Charles
      Prentiss/Lidwina_Krause, Jarlan_Lestrange/Luxielle_Mazur, Dagareth
      Lestrange/Ksenia_Sokol, Frodo_Merkulov/Kaitlen_Grayson, Dylan_Veer/Alora
      Moreno, Seven_Devils_-_Friendship, past_Donnica_Lestrange/Ivanka
      Vorstenbach_II
  Additional Tags:
      Implied/Referenced_Underage_Sex, Violence, Blood_and_Gore, Substance
      Abuse, Torture, so_many_ships_so_many_spoilers, THEY_AREN'T_ALL_STRAIGHT
      I_PROMISE, if_i_include_ALL_the_ships_there_will_be_too_many_spoilers,
      Infidelity, Betrayal, Double_Agents, Post-Canon, Dubious_Consent, Dubious
      Morality
  Series:
      Part 1 of This_Place_Was_A_Shelter_Universe
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-20 Updated: 2017-12-09 Chapters: 20/101 Words: 62171
****** Game Theory ******
by elossa
Summary
     It's 2080. The Iron Curtain - under a different name, but a spade is
     a spade - has divided Europe as two warring factions come to a
     stalemate. Then Charles Prentiss goes missing...
Notes
     CHAPTER 1A WARNING: Explicit violence
     For those of you unfamiliar with the characters, this is ridiculous,
     based off a dead RP, but I love these characters. To those of you
     whose characters aren't mine and have given permission to let them be
     featured in this story, thank you for letting me tinker with them
     because honestly, I'm not going to grow out of them in the near
     future. If you didn't hear from me before I published this story and
     a character of yours is included, it's because I couldn't track you
     down. If your character wasn't a Lestrange and you want them removed
     their role can easily be cut.
     P.S. In my head, the Lestranges sure as hell didn't come from
     England. Dagareth comes from a branch in France that migrated to
     Russia in the mid 1980s to avoid all of that Wizarding War chaos
     across the channel.
     The HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I like to pretend anything
     beyond DH was never published.
See the end of the work for more notes
  This work was inspired by
      Auvrea_Veryr by Multiple
***** 1A: August 10th, 2080 *****
Yekaterinburg, Russia
Charles became acutely aware of the knife that was on his throat.
How it had gotten there, he wasn’t entirely sure. He had been spending his
night the usual way: in the tavern and having spiked Butterbeers with anyone
who would listen. He entered the bar hearing about Jaelyn Sicarius’s lack of
ability to conceive and how tempted Lucifer was to shack up with Lux Mazur -
who was sixteenyears his junior - because Milli Marten was taken (like Charles
would lethim sleep with his sister anyway) and he wasn’t stupid enough to bed
the Dark Lady and be hung, drawn and quartered despite the fact that it was
pretty bloody obvious to anyone with eyes that Jaelyn was sleeping with Darke
Kruger and was probably taking contraceptive charms as a result.
Sodding hell, being a Dark Soldier was fucking tiring.
“What do you think, Prentiss?” Lucifer asked, eyeing the brunet. “Is the woman
sterile?”
“Pregnancy is a far less effective than killing people, Lucifer,” Charles
replied coolly, his eyes absent of the anger that was boiling his blood. “You
need to give it a couple of months to be sure. “I’m sure that she will be with
child soon enough.”
In his head, he was positively seething. Just inseminate the woman already, he
thought. Not even magic can overcome that. However, he knew that suggesting
that using artificial methods or subtly dropping Darke’s name into the
conversation would lead to his death, and some others. Lucifer was a reckless,
violent man, and he was careless enough to disobey Dagareth’s rules. (Rule
number three: No murdering your compatriots unless I gave you the order. In
which case, go nuts.)
“Thanks for the advice, Prentiss,” Lucifer replied, patting Charles on the back
before beckoning his brother, Sergius, to come over to the bar. “Serg! What do
you think about…”
That was when he effectively tuned that conversation out; he could no longer
bear it. He finished the last of his Butterbeer, paid the bartender the Sickles
and Knuts he owed, and left the tavern, using the back alley to return to his
place of residence for the month: a single bedroom that he thankfullydidn’t
share with anyone else, not even Sergius ‘Thickheaded Twit’ Sicarius.
As he made his way down the dark alley, he tripped on a discarded quill.
Curious, the former Hitrost fingered the feather, stroking it before feeling
something hooked him in the navel and pulled him sharply inward into something.
It felt like hewas a tornado, swirling and collapsing into himself. He
screamed, the sensation momentarily ridding him of his senses.
He dropped from the sky into a pitch black room, gasping for air. The 38-year-
old had never been a fan of the dark, and he could feel the sweat on his
forehead forming as he cast a silent Lumos with his wand, and he came face to
face with his ex-girlfriend who shrieked her head off, and he was shocked
enough by the whole mess that she had time to put the knife on his neck.
Ah, so that’show he ended up in this conundrum.
“How did you find us?” she hissed.
“I didn’t,” he said, “how - just please, Dommi, let me go – “
“NO!” she yelled. The woman grabbed him by his collar, smashing him into the
nearest brick wall. Red flakes landed on his cheek. “You just compromised my
entire fucking family! You just ruined the chance for pureblood extremism to be
completely eradicated by walking into what is their Literal Underground
Headquarters – do you even know what the hell you’ve done, Charles?” She saw
his nose run with blood trickling down his face, her hand gently brushing the
roof of his lip to wipe it off. “You know that I cannot and will not let you
go, not since you decided to join them twenty years ago.”
“You know that I would have had no choice – “
“Except you did!You had zero reason, other than insatiable power and pure
cowardice, to join up their ranks and become part of the Dark Army.”
“I am on my own side,” he replied, lying smoothly. “I have my own plans, and
that plan has been, for the most part, to survive. I have never hurt anyone.”
“We both know you’ve murdered people, Charles. There is no way in fucking hell
I am letting you go.”
His face paled with an understanding, knowing exactly where the anger in her
tone sprung from. Years old remorse chipped away at his fear, replacing it with
dread and quivering fingers. He sighed. “Then don’t let me go. Punish me to
your heart’s content.”
Dominique scoffed. “Do you really think that I would be so kind to oblige you
of such a request? I could never punish you: not effectively. Come on, Charles.
We have a long life ahead of us.”
His vision turned black and night claimed him for its own.
***** 1B: August 10th 2080 + Flashbacks *****
Chapter Summary
     May, Year 3
     Durmstrang has fallen.
     (Or the one where things slowly start to make sense.)
Chapter Notes
     SPECIFIC CHAPTER WARNING: Substance abuse, character deaths (though
     neither are particularly explicit or gory). Also plenty of swearing,
     if you're a bit queasy
     Some people may not enjoy flashbacks, but please read these if you
     can. They sort of help people orient themselves to the story, so to
     speak.
     Much love to Manda for looking this over, and thank you to Mel (Dream
     Painter) for looking it over and letting me use some of Rhena's
     dialogue (all the way from 2012, I might add!) to be used in this
     chapter.
11.00 August 10th, Year 2080: Room 22
“Whoa, Dommi. Slow down - “
“I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of the situation. We have a
Dark Soldier in our Headquarters. I will notslow down.”
“Well, Lena and I very much would like you to because you woke us up on our day
off and you’re speaking way too fast.”
“Oh. I - I’m sorry Rhys.”
Lena grumbled, falling off the bed, getting up on her feet and then walking up
to the door. Her hair was an absolute rat’s nest, something that made her
appear more terrifying than she already was. “Merlin’s fucking tits, Dommi.
Could you have waited another half an hour?”
“I actually think this is important, Le.” Rhys ran his hands through his ginger
hair and turned back to Dommi. “Sorry, Dommi. We’ll meet you down in the
Conference Room after lunch.”
The Healer nodded, glaring at the blonde before closing the door behind her.
Rhys then turned to his wife, a small smile forming at her mussed up look.
“What?” she snapped.
“You’re ever the morning person,” Rhys replied, chuckling. He bent down to kiss
his wife on the lips.
She ducked, growling. “And you’re horrible.” She picked up her wand from her
bedside table and sprayed a jet of water on her face. The blonde then turned to
her husband and did the same with him, smirking when he yelped. “Woken up
enough, sleepyhead?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Now you know how Ifeel when I get unexpectedly awakened.” With a laugh, she
wrapped her arms around his shoulders, planting him with a kiss before wrapping
her legs around his waist. Rhys ran his hands through her hair, one hand
settling on her hips to hold her up and the other on the nape of her neck. He
broke off the kiss, and she immediately began to pout.
“We need to take a shower and you need to eat,”he reminded, his serious tone
only making his wife laugh. “You are very, very pregnant and Ana there needs a
bit of nutrition.”
“Fine. But we are definitelyhaving sex in the shower.”
“Who said we weren’t?”
===============================================================================
 
June, Year 2060 (Year 0): Field of Dreams, Russia
“You can’t catch me, Rhys! You can’t!”
It was a bit of a silly mistake to make; Lena only stood at one point six
metres, while Rhys was over a head taller than her. He caught her by the waist
easily, wrapping his arms around them and planting a kiss to her lips. Her arms
reached out to grab his neck, kissing him with equal fervour before she broke
the kiss and continued to run. Her sprint away from him was halted when she saw
two men in cloaks that she could only guess were Dark Soldiers.
Barely mastering wandless magic before she left school, Lena felt a little
nervous. She grabbed her wand, rushing to find Rhys. He clasped her hand in
his, putting up a large Protego around them as she fired off several Reductos
against the cloaked men. When he couldn’t handle the spell anymore, she put a
weaker one in place as he found a bit of time to switch his position and
recharge.
It was during this period that the Soldiers managed to find a crack through
Lena’s shield and sent a jet of characteristic green light in his direction.
Lena screamed, but Rhys pushed her out of the way to take the curse. Lena
screamed, yelling the Killing Curse at the two men. It seemed that her sorry
excuse of aim improved because the two men seemed to have dropped dead with no
sign of waking. She then rushed to her new fiancé, brushing the hair out of his
face.
“Oh Merlin,” she breathed, “Rhys, tell me you’re not dead.”
There was no answer.
“Rhys, please…”
Lena shrieked, the tears beginning to form. The idea of using a Patronus
distracted her from the reality for a moment, and she tried to summon all of
the memories strong enough to conjure her Hippogriff. Once she saw its outline,
she told it to run to Dominique Wagner and tell her that she needed to come
ASAP. The Hippogriff then left, leaving a trail of light behind.
Lying next to her husband, Lena placed her head on his chest, trying to feel
the heave of his chest or the thump thump that signalled a heartbeat. There was
none.
She began to sob, her lungs feeling like they were going to explode. Dommi came
in the middle of it all and checked for a pulse everywhere: his heart, his
wrist, his neck. She confirmed what Lena already knew, and her sobs grew
deafening on the deathly quiet field.
===============================================================================
 
July 14th: Year 0
               RUSSIAN MINISTRY OF MAGIC TAKEN OVER BY DARK ARMY
                               By Selena Vikenti
Last night, on July 13th 2060, will forever remain a catastrophic one in our
hearts.
Led by recent Durmstrang graduate Dagareth Lestrange - who has now styled
himself as the Dark Lord, à la Voldemort - over a hundred people were murdered
in the Russian Ministry last night, including Minister of Magic Kallie Nikkala.
We extend our condolences to those who knew someone who was affected by the
attack. We thank those who have fallen for protecting our Ministry the best
they could.
The Moscow Herald will suspend a day’s production to respect the fallen.
===============================================================================
November, Year 0: Vorstenbach Manor, Bad Münstereifel, Germany
Lena groaned, rousing from the sofa in the Entrance Hall. Now that the number
of occupants of the Manor had dwindled down to one, the blonde found no reason
to go anywhere beyond the Manor’s ground floor. As she walked towards the door,
she summoned a cheap bottle of Ogden’s she had found in the market. It was
several steps to the door where she swore that she heard high-pitched cries.
She sobered up quickly, dropping the bottle in her hand and rushing through the
archway and pushing the door open. On the porch sat a rattan basket with a
bundle of cloth housing what was unmistakably a baby.
“Shit.” She was relieved to find a warming charm had been cast on the cloth and
that the baby wasn’t dying in the chill. She rushed to carry the basket inside,
and carried the baby out of the basket.
Beneath the basket was a letter with a wax seal with a coat of arms Lena had
not seen in years. Clockwise from the top left are a griffin, a serpent, three
blue arrows and a crown adorned with a golden mosaic. On top of the letter were
the words: Weralt folgen wir.
The world follows us.
Gingerly, Lena opened the envelope, her heart dropping to the floor as soon as
she saw that it was her brother’s handwriting across the page. The blonde had
not heard from her brother in years, not since his wedding two years prior. The
words he had printed across the page haunted her:
Dearest Lena,
It is no longer safe for Patricia and I to remain in continental Europe - her
status as a Muggleborn has prompted us to make a break for Britain, should we
make it. You probably know this better than anyone else; I send my condolences
for your boyfriend’s fate. If you have not changed in the years we have spent
apart, then I am sure you’ve started on the grand plan to take the Lestranges
down and succeed.
Should we not make it, Ivanka - who we have left in the care of the von Bergens
- will be automatically delivered to you. She’s only a few months old, but
she’s absolutely beautiful, Lena. Please take care of her like you would your
own.
I love you, and I know my actions in staying out of our parents’... theatrics,
to put it lightly, may have put me in an unfavourable position in your eyes.
This is not something that surprises me, but I still would like to remind you
that regardless of what happens, I am still your brother and I will continue to
care for you as long as I can.
By this letter, I, Alexander Wolfgang Helmut Vorstenbach, Patriarch of the
Ancient and Noble House of Vorstenbach, concede all title, property and vaults
I own to Lena Marie Johanna Vorstenbach, Daughter of the Ancient and Noble
House of Vorstenbach. So have I sworn, so mote it be.
With much love,
Alex
===============================================================================
May, Year 3
Durmstrang has fallen.
(And so has Finland.)
===============================================================================
April, Year 4: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters, Entrance Hall
Lena stared at the intricate gargoyles that she had spent hours carving. She
wasn’t sure why she had spent ages working on such minute details when no one
was likely to notice them. Her eyes then turned to the sloping roof of the
building, built only out of marble and several Strengthening Charms that she
had discovered out of Designers Daily.
The entire project didn’t belong to her - the Seven Devils all had a role in
its design - but it felt like the closest thing she had to a child minus the
one she actually had, and she wasn’t even really hers anyway.
She took a sip of Firewhiskey, this time hidden in a soda can. No one had
noticed it yet. It had been an hour since her last drink, and the world hadn’t
spun enough yet to look decent. The burning sensation that she had once
indulged herself in now dulled into a warm hum at the back of her throat. She
took a long gulp, aching to taste the fire, but it barely licked the roof of
her mouth before it seamlessly went down her pipe.
Sighing, the blonde gazed at her friends. Frodo and Anya were laughing at some
of the gargoyles, Lora and Dylan were snuggling underneath a blanket and Kait -
- was heading straight for her. Shit.
“You can’t keep drinking without me, y’know,” the brunette said. When Lena
opened her mouth, she pointed to Frodo, who was still laughing with Anya. “He
told me.”
“Kait, please don’t tell - “
Simply taking the can out of the blonde’s hand, the other woman simply winked
at her and downed the rest of the can. “I’m not going to tell on you, you big
baby. It’s not our job to make sure you live. That’s your own job.” She
blinked, burping as the contents of the can settled. “Now you have someone
who’s as thoroughly pissed as you are.”
Lena laughed, “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Well, Le, you started it. We used to do the exact same thing back in Seventh
Year in the middle of classes when you decided the work was too easy.”
Wrinkling her nose, the blonde said in amusement, “We’re not in school anymore.
I don’t think we can get away with tee-total drunkenness now the same way we
did at seventeen.” When Kait giggled, her amusement faded. “You’re trying to
teach me a lesson again, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” the brunette said in a singsong voice, “or you’re just a great person
to get pissed with.”
“Ha ha. Right. We both know that’s not true.”
“You are a great person, though.” Lena opened her mouth to interrupt Kait but
the woman continued to prattle on. “I mean, we’ve been best friends for ten
years now. We’ve been through deep shit together. Hell, we’re going through
some fucked up things right now and when we come out of it, I’d like you to
come out sane.”
“It’s a war, Kait. I don’t think sanity’s a viable option.”
The brunette pursed her lips. “I suppose not. But not being a complete drunkard
is.” She dragged the blonde to a nearby bench, using a Reducto on the can. They
watched it crumble into tiny pieces, black snowflakes gently descending to the
ground. “Look, you might not have a family, and that the only place you
consider home is now a pile of ash, but you can’t just retreat into your mind
anymore. I know that taking care of Vanka on your own is hard, but who said
that you were ever alone to begin with?” She gestured to their friends. “Ivanka
is lucky as hell. She has six parents not counting the ones that gave birth to
her, all of whom are more than happy to help raise her. You need some time
alone? Fro and I can have her for the next day. You’re scared of hurting her
when you’re drunk? Anya can help her read a bedtime story in a jiffy. When we
made a pact that we were going to help each other, I wasn’t aware that you were
left out of the equation. And you weren’t. So please, stop thinking that you’re
alone, because it’s not the Seven Devils without you.”
A tear began rolling down Lena’s face. “We haven’t been Seven Devils for a
while, now, Kait.”
The brunette smiled, wrapping an arm around the blonde’s shoulder. “And who
said that? Rhys might not be physically here anymore, but that doesn’t mean he
isn’t alive.”
===============================================================================
March, Year 16: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters - The Box
According to the report, Ellie O’Malley woke ‘Rhys Edmunds’ up while Dommi was
at work, and someone who vaguely resembled (read: was the spitting image of)
the ginger that Lena had fallen in love with had marched into the room with
only a mild interest in the matter.
As her eyes looked up from her papers, her face paled. The man in question, the
man that Dommi had begged her to see, was indeed the love of her life - or
looked like it. He had the same sheepish expression he would often wear when he
said hello, the same clear blue eyes, the lanky build: features that were far
too easy to duplicate with Polyjuice.
She told him to sit down on the sole chair in the room, and he did so without
complaint. Going with Dommi’s advice, she did not use Polyjuice on that man;
she planned on interrogating him long enough for it to wear off. “Now, tell
me,” she began, “who are you supposed to be?”
"Sorry," he said, still smiling. "It's just... very you. It's... nice,
actually." He seemed to pause for a moment. "It's me, Lena. It's Rhys."
The blonde snorted. "How do I know it's not just you under Polyjuice eh,
Lestrange? For all I know, you dug out his body from the ground and took his
hair." Tilting her head to the side, she raised an eyebrow. "Tell me something
that Rhys would know. Only Rhys."
He began to speak of a scar, and she fought back. He mentioned a list that she
had long since forgotten, and she came back with a dagger in her hand. The
rallies between grew between each fight, becoming longer and drearier with drop
shots and double faults. Gradually, she found herself spewing out convoluted
sentences she would never dream of speaking, words that she would never string
together if she was in her right mind.
She yielded after an hour, and the Polyjuice still didn’t wear off yet.
“Kiss me,” she said. She gave into his kiss, still warm and comforting as
always, and her heart soared when she realised that this was the man she had
waited years for in the most painful way. Now that he was here, she didn’t need
to wait for death to join him in heaven, for it was already here.
Kissing him was the best unforced error she’d ever make, and she married him
soon after.
 
***** 1C: August 17th 2080 + September 1st 2053 *****
Chapter Summary
     “Sure. Let me tell the Dark Lord that all he has to do to win the war
     is to get drunk and fall on a Portkey behind a tavern. He’d love
     that.”
Chapter Notes
     Content warning: Use of ableist slurs
     Thank you to everyone who's managed to read it this far. The first
     couple of chapters feels a bit disjointed, I know, but it's purely
     meant to establish important relationships and friendships, as well
     as some plotlines. I'm getting into the first action-y bit of the
     story soon (which puts me over 7 chapters ahead) though there's still
     the Chapter 1 rewrite I'm working on.
     Thank you Mel (Dream Painter) for being the best beta in the world,
     as always.
     Love you all and hope you enjoy this next chapter!
10.00 August 17 th , Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters - The Box
When Charles woke up, he realized too late that he was in a place with white
walls and white floors and white ceilings. If he wasn’t already accustomed to
being in uncomfortable places, he wouldn’t have been able to make out the
outline of each object, separating one blob of white from another.
“L – Le?” he spluttered. She met his gaze for a fraction of a second, only
enough to confirm their identities to each other, but she looked back down.
“I thought it would be odd for someone to use your image, considering your
infamy for being an absolute twat. Then I realised that walking into the heart
of the opposition by accident” - she made a show of air marks - “sounds
exactly  like what you would do, Charles, if you were hoping to infiltrate and
take us out from the inside out.”
“Oh yes, because I would clearly go out,  on my own , in the middle of the
night just to hunt you down.” He snorted, “I’m called Idiot Prentiss for a
reason.”
“Idiotic as you are, you still have safety in the public eye. You can be
directly linked to the Lestranges’ good side for the past two decades and that
is how you have guaranteed your survival. Others do not have such luxuries.”
Charles snorted, “The only reason you’re fighting the Dark Lord is because of a
stupid childhood rivalry.”
“No, it isn’t.” The blonde waved her wand at her parchment before meeting his
gaze. He almost smiled at her.  Twenty years and her temper was as short as
always.   “I don’t believe that magic is the supreme power. Oh, correction -
the  only  power. I believe in equality between the Muggles and us, however
hard it may be to achieve. We both know about the advances Muggles have made in
science, and the ones they have made in our lifetime is much larger than any
wizard has ever done, Light or Dark.” She paused. “I also believe that the only
misdeed the school has ever committed was the belief that everyone’s abilities
worked the same way.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Only then did he realise the straps holding him down, the
blisters on his feet, how he hadn’t showered in the last twenty-four hours.  No
duh. You’re a hostage, Chuck. You can’t expect five-star treatment.  “If you
know that I have… infamy for being an absolute twat, then  why are you holding
me here?  It’s a lot on easier on both of us if you let me go my own way.”
“As if I was stupid enough to let you go. Now, not only do you now know roughly
where we are, but also what lies inside such an establishment.”
“ Sure.  Let me tell the Dark Lord that all he has to do to win the war is to
get drunk and fall on a Portkey behind a tavern. He’d love that.” Charles tried
his best to struggle against the strap, despite the fact that he was wasting
energy. “Also, I’m sure even primary schools have interrogation rooms nowadays,
though not quite as fancy.”
“Yet another piece of evidence signaling humanity’s downfall.” She loosened the
straps, if only a little, enough to let his joints rotate. The Lena Charles had
been looking at began to fade away, and the door opened. He was shocked when he
saw that this Lena was much rounder around her abdomen. She was carrying a bowl
of food and a canteen of water.
Sweet Merlin.  A smile broke over his face.
“Shut up, Prentiss,” she hissed, though she did not hesitate to smile back.
“Dommi insisted you be killed  immediately,  but you know that I’ve had many a
nefarious plan in my head, and I can quite happily test them out on you.”
Charles raised an eyebrow.
“What?” the woman sat in response, rushing to a seat. The man noticed how she
practically waddled to it, sighing in pleasure once she did put her arse on the
chair. “Other than mobility, my pregnancy has not hindered any of my
activities. All I have to do is wait for little Edmunds to pop out and boom - I
am able to test all of my little plans out on you.” She took her wand out of
her dress pocket, giving it a swish. Charles found that the shackle on his
right wrist had been removed. “Go on,” the blonde said, “eat.”
The brunet stared warily at his food. It actually looked… good. Warm too,
thanks to a stasis charm. It was a classic BLT just the way he liked it: high
on the bacon, low on the lettuce. Though he wasn’t quite used to eating with
one hand, he did so anyway. He ate as messily as he normally would, practically
grinning at her. She rolled her eyes, cursing herself for one reason or
another.
When he finished his meal, however, she merely picked up her wand and muttered
a Scourgify. She grinned back at him as she put the shackle back on his wrist.
===============================================================================
September 1st, Year -7: Durmstrang Institute - Great Hall
The Sorting felt a little juvenile, to be honest. According to The History of
Durmstrang written by Georgy Krum, the only reason there was even a sorting was
because there needed to be some way of distinguishing one tower of the castle
from the other. Since compass points wasn’t discrete enough (and because it was
2020, so it’s not like anyone bothered to remember them because of smartphones,
or whatever) they chose traits.
How Hogwarts of them.
Charles knew the main difference between the four houses just from observing
the men his father had in his company. Hitrost - his family house - was for the
ambitious. Slushatel - the house he knew he had no chance in - was for the
stealthy. Uchitel was for the intelligent, and Hrabrost was the house of the
brave. If he was in either of those two last houses, he’d probably protest
against it.
On the boat to Durmstrang, Charles sat in an empty one with mostly first years,
whose names he mostly remembered. One was a quiet boy named Dagareth Lestrange
who seemed a bit… creepy for lack of a better word, and once Charles knew of
his name he wanted to jump far away from him; his ancestors had been close
enough to Bellatrix to know how mad she could get. Another was a girl named
Katja Fridolf, who was quite nice, but otherwise forgettable. He didn’t see
Lena anywhere else on the ship, though he did see her talk to a brunette on the
harbour he knew to be Anastasia Telsa.
One of the main topics of conversation eleven-year-olds seemed to dwell
themselves upon was, of course, the Sorting. Dagareth seemed disinterested in
the whole prospect, saying that it doesn’t matter as long as he gets what he
wants in the end, or words to that effect. Katja had told Charles that her
sister had been a Slushatel, though any House would suit her just fine. He had
told her his preference - Hitrost, obviously - though he didn’t say why.
The ring on his hand had been silent for the ten seconds he put it on his hand.
He wasn’t sure how sentient it was - it was never rumoured to have spoken to
anybody. His only wish that moment was to put in his preferred house so that he
deserved one less thing to be angry about when he came home for Christmas. When
the gemstone on the ring did turn teal and announced his sorting to Hitrost
House, he gave a sigh of relief and went to join the other newly-sorted first
years. Immediately, a teal badge was magically sewn to his robes, and he
intended to wear it proudly.
The only sortings that he kept track of before him were Rhys Edmunds (Hrabrost,
and only because he spectacularly fell as he got down from the podium), Kendera
James (also known as creepy hair changing girl, Slushatel), Dagareth’s
(Hrabrost), and Frodo Merkulov (a fellow Hitrost). He made a mental note to
hang around Frodo: the Merkulov patriarch and Leon Prentiss were familiar with
one another, if only by name.
After his own, the one he had been waiting for was Lena’s. One of the last ones
to be sorted, she stood with her chin held high, her lips a thin line on her
face. She placed the ring on her ring finger - her palm would have sufficed,
but always the overachiever, she was - and the Great Hall was silent. The only
other person who seemed to watch the blonde being sorted with as much intent as
the newly-sorted Hitrost was Highmaster Rusnak, but it was probably not because
he cared about her.
Charles had about thirty seconds to figure his ex-friend out, given his
sorting. Slushatel would be the obvious choice, if only because it was the
Vorstenbach family house. She was brave as hell, so Hrabrost wouldn’t surprise
him either. She was also as ambitious as Lord Voldemort, when given the chance,
so Hitrost was a definite possibility.
Over a minute had passed since the ring was put on her fingered, and he
wondered if his blonde friend would go through the Durmstrang equivalent of a
hatstall. He was curious as to why her Sorting was taking so long in the first
place, reminding himself of some Uchitel girl earlier who too had taken forever
to be Sorted. Was the ring torn between two houses? Was Lena giving it hell by
telling it she did not mind any house?
He counted the ticks on his watch. It had been almost two minutes.
“UCHITEL!”
Her lips grew to a smile. She joined the rest of the first years, sending her
grin to everyone, even him.
***** 1D: August 27th 2080 + September 2076 *****
Chapter Summary
     “Genetics is a very finicky thing.”
Chapter Notes
     Hello! Sorry for the wait, but here's the next chapter. We get to
     meet the so-called nextgen and I hope you like it!
19.00 August 27 th , Year 20 - Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
Ellie began to braid Vanka’s hair as dinner came to a close. It was the adults’
turn to take care of the dishes. That meant that there was a lot less frantic
wand waving around and many were sitting in close, hushed circles as they
waited for their turn. Even in peacetime, the warning of what could come was a
musky stench that clung to silverware and curtains.
“Vanka,” Ellie asked, securing the braid with a rubber band. “Do you think that
Mum is alright?”
Casting a neutral glance at Dommi O’Malley, who seemed to be having a hearty
conversation with Hazelle and Chara Bellamy, she shook her head in doubt. “It
definitely looks like it, but it doesn’t mean she is.”
“Fair enough,” Ellie replied, letting go of the braid. “What do you think about
the Prentiss person that they brought in?” Her voice lowered to a whisper, and
Vanka had to crane her ear to hear it. “Alex is pretty sure that’s his father
from one of his shifts.”
The blonde grew sombre; of everyone in their friendship group, she was the one
that could most understand his conundrum. Merlin knows what it would be like if
she ever had to face  her  father again. “I don’t know what to think,” Vanka
said, lingering on her words. “From all the newspapers we get, I think that
Prentiss is evil, for murdering innocent people. But from the bits and pieces
I’ve heard  äiti  say, I think there’s a lot more to him that we don’t know. So
I’m not making any judgments yet.”
The brunette nodded, “That’s mature of you.”
Vanka shrugged her shoulders. “We all had to grow up pretty quickly, El.”
“True,” she replied, “if he decides to go and talk to Chuck, you’ll be there
for him right?”
“Of course.” And in her heart, Vanka knew that it was true.
Ellie grinned, hugging her best friend goodbye. After a few minutes of Vanka
twiddling with her thumbs in silence,  Taden came to join her, having spent
dinner with Alex. She wondered what the two would speak to each other about.
There had been bad blood between them when she first started seeing Taden -
Alex had been her first love, yes, but he was her protector, first and foremost
- but that had been resolved when her husband had asked him for her hand in
marriage.
“Hey sweetheart,” she smiled, chastely kissing her husband’s lips. “How did
your day at the lab go?”
“As well as any other day, I guess,” he replied warmly, wrapping an arm around
her waist and gently pulling her close. She could hear his heartbeat slow when
she did not flinch. “And yours?”
“Another dull shift with Prentiss,” Vanka said. She whispered into his ear,
“Ellie’s dying to know more about him and I’m sure Dommi’s more affected by all
this than she’s letting on.”
Taden laughed in amusement, pressing his forehead atop his wife’s. “Y’know,
Keeping Up With the Wagners  should be a reality TV show. Actually, it’s more
like Wagner-Edmunds-Vorstenbach-O’Malley… and now Wells, I suppose.” He smiled,
“I don’t mind it. It’s never boring around here.”
“I guess,” Vanka said, “this is about as boring as it gets.”
Taden’s eyes immediately gleamed. “Oh! Speaking of boring, I have something to
show you!” In typical, trained-by-Lena fashion, his eyes skirted around the
Hall and found that there were too many potential ears listening. “Let’s go
back to our room. It’s not safe out here.”
They stood up from the bench, holding hands and retreating quietly to their
bedroom. Vanka passed the Bellamy twins on the way, the sleeves of their
hoodies singed from what must have been one of their games of Super Explosive
Exploding Snap. Once the door to Room 35 was firmly shut, Taden gave a sigh of
relief and retrieved a notepad from the desk.
“Okay,” he said, flipping a few pages. On the page were lines and lines of
observations: names, dates, blood purity. “So you know how some people think
that magic is just a mutation? A gamble of the smallest kind? A game of
chance?”
Vanka peered at the page, eyes slowly widening and alternating her gaze between
the book and Taden. “Obviously.  Äiti  mentioned it to me several times over
the past couple of years. She says it’s more of a hunch than anything else.”
“Why so?”
“Squibs. Their very existence defies logic, or something. If you inbreed enough
- like the House of Black in England - they have a couple of Squibs in their
family. She’s not entirely sure why but she thinks it’s a mutation.” She raised
an eyebrow. “You think she’s on to something, don’t you?”
“I don’t  think  she’s on to something. I think she’s spot on.”
===============================================================================
September, Year 16 - Meeting Room #2
“Vanka,” Lena chided, “I don’t think that all this security detail is
necessary.”
“You’re getting married,” the younger blonde reminded, transferring Ellie
closer to the perimeter of the venue, “in the middle of war to someone everyone
thinks is  dead . Of course you need protection, Le.”
“I would agree with you, and your constant vigilance and sharpness is very much
appreciated.” Taking a look at her niece’s sketch, the future Mrs. Edmunds
transferred Vanka’s entire table - which included Nicholas Moria, her boyfriend
Taden Wells, Ashley Veer, Alex Wagner, the Bellamy children as well as Ellie
O’Malley - to the right of the table containing the Seven Devils, Dommi
O’Malley and Hazelle Bellamy. “The catch is that I’m getting at my parents’
house, where no one has been on for years, and it is our territory.”
“I know that this has been brought to your attention,” Vanka frowned, “but our
territory isn’t exactly difficult to trespass. Our walls are failing; there’s
not many that would go out to maintain them.”
“One can hardly fault them,” Lena countered. “Dagareth’s army, though not
entirely flawless, is strong. One can’t hope to face them alone. However, I’m
still going to insist that you do not go to the German-Czech border until
you’re a couple of years out of school.”
“But why, äiti?”
She gazed at her niece’s seating chart and the to-do list Dommi had plastered
on her noticeboard that morning. “The Dark Army have safety in numbers that we
do not have. In order to combat such high numbers, we need highly skilled
guards. I’m not saying your skills aren’t high enough, but - ”
“I need more training, I know. But wasn’t Paris enough?”
“It was more than enough, but as your legal guardian, I would prefer it if you
outlive me. Not the other way around.”
The silence that set like an elephant between the two women seemed to inflate
in magnitude, like a balloon being pumped full of air.
Ivanka broke the silence, exploding it with a bang. “I - what?”
“Don’t assume that just because I let you run with a dagger, ensure that your
marksmanship abilities are second to me, and a strong dueller means that I will
let you fight when I deem it unnecessary to do so.”
“The Lestranges’ children get to fight!”
“How  dare  you compare me to their mother? That Sokol woman is a  fool.”
“Well, she isn’t a complete fool, as much as I hate to admit it. She’s the most
powerful woman in the world.”
Another tentative silence took place, Lena furrowing her brows in thought. “I
would be inclined to agree with you if the only reason she isn’t the dirt
beneath her feet is because of one small mutation in her DNA.”
Vanka raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What?”
“Genetics,” Lena said, “is a very finicky thing.” The seating chart on the
blackboard was immediately replaced by a Punnett square. “Take the allele - one
variation of a gene - that has the magic mutation as capital m, and the allele
that lacks magic as little m. So capital m is the dominant allele, and little m
is recessive.”
The elder blonde continued with her explanation for what seemed to be forever,
though the younger of the two did not mind it. By the time they had finished
their talk, the bell had rung for dinner.
“We must go, Vanka,” Lena said, holding her hand out.
Her niece took it, giving it a tight squeeze.
***** 1E: September 3rd, 2080 + January 19th 2056 *****
Chapter Summary
     “Who on earth do you think fathered this child? Jesus?”
     “Isn’t Jesus dead?”
Chapter Notes
     GUESS WHO PASSED THEIR EXAMS!
     so you get a chapter, yay!
     [EDITED 18.07.2017]
January 19th, Year -4: Fifth Floor, Durmstrang
The plan was in motion.
Kait heard the unmistakable screams of a teenage girl, and stepped out of her
hiding spots to see a fog of red smoke envelope a girl in pale blue robes. The
girl screamed, trying to avoid the smoke, but her plans were tarnished once a
cloud of green smoke exploded out of nowhere. When the cloud grew, there was
another scream that bounced off the walls of the corridor.
The Hrabrost tried her best to stifle her giggles, and she was lucky that she
managed not to burst out laughing when she saw Lena Vorstenbach’s tiny frame
crawl towards her, her face painted a mishmash of Roy G. Biv. As she saw Kait,
her brows furrowed and her steps echoing to earthquakes in the quiet corridor.
Abruptly, a Jack-in-the-box popped out of the ground, scaring the blonde out of
her wits as she ran away from the large doll and towards the girl that she knew
had to be the cause of all of this.
“I have a date!” she yelled, “this isn’t funny, Grayson!”
Kaitlen did not snicker still, throwing a water balloon at the blonde. The loud
splatter of rubber on stone meant that she missed. She began to throw more
water balloons, though she discovered that some of these were thrown back in
her direction.
“Dammit,” she hissed. She swiftly turned around to find that the tiny Uchitel
was several feet away from her. She was lucky that she had a height advantage,
and quickly sped up the spiral stairs that led up to the Room of Necessity. The
blonde did not fail to keep up with her.
She made it to the top floor of the school, rushing off to East Tower because
it was the furthest. She saw Frodo and Anya ahead of her, gesturing for her to
please hurry up -
“Caught you.”
Lena snickered as Kait fell to the ground, barely grimacing despite the large
thud. She was already standing, her wand pointed in the brunette’s face before
she even had the time to compose herself.
“What on earth are you playing at, Grayson?” the blonde asked. She turned
around to acknowledge her friends, waving to them, simpering. “You can’t think
that I will fall prey to your pranks? I help plan them, for crying out loud! So
tell me: why on earth were you pelting me with powder like we’re taking part in
a fucking colour run?”
No one dared to answer her. Instead, the brunette pointed her wand at the
blonde and Stunned her, tying her hands and feet together with rope. With a
swish and flick, Lena was several inches off the ground, her blue eyes cold as
steel as they pierced into Kait’s.
After dropping Lena a few times, the four of them finally made their way to the
Room of Necessity. The stone door materialised out of nowhere, something Kait
still found much wonder in, and they entered the room. Inside the room, Rhys
frowned as he saw the blonde tied up, scowling at the trio that brought her in.
Anya immediately placed her best friend on the couch, joining Dylan and Alora
in their half-finished game of Exploding Snap.
“What’s the meaning of this?” the ginger hissed.
Frodo relieved Lena of her rope and the blonde immediately ran towards her
boyfriend, tackling him in a tight hug. They both fell to the ground with a
large thud, giggling. “It was meant to be a simple intervention, but of course,
Kaitlen got a little bit out of hand…”
“A little bit? Lena looks like she went to hell and back!” He smiled sheepishly
at his beloved, brushing the hair out of her eyes as they sat up. “Are you
alright, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine, honey,” the blonde replied, removing her wand from her left sleeve
and muttering a few cleaning charms to get rid of most of the powder. After,
she pressed her lips on his, dropping her wand as her hand cupped his cheek.
They broke apart, Lena blushing. “You were so worried about me.”
“Of course I was worried about you. I do love you, you know.”
“Aw, you love me?”
“Yeah.” He kissed her again.
“GAAAAAAH!”
Abruptly, Rhys and Lena broke apart. Snap, crackle, pop. Silence.
“Can you twostop it?”Kaitlen shouted, “we’ve all had enough of your goochie goo
goo crap sinceday one and since Frodo likes to keep things from becoming
violent, he staged an intervention. Let’s face it, we know that it won’t work
on Lena becauseshe’s violent, so can you two please, for the love of
Merlin,stop eating each other’s faces out in front of everyone?”
Lena stared at her friend, slightly dumbfounded. Her lips were parted,
wondering if it was wise to say something, shifting between ‘oh’ and ‘wait’
with every heartbeat. She eventually settled on this.
“You do know that you could’ve just walked up to me in the Uchitel Common Room
instead of setting off grenades in the middle of the hallway to tell me that,
right?”
Rhys nodded, pecking her cheek. “You can’t do this kind of thing twice, anyway.
Though I’ll bet you’ll be just as angry as soon as Dyl and Lora get their act
together and start shagging all over the place.”
Alora went red. “I, what - “
“ - and if nothing happens between you and Fro before graduation,” Lena said,
gesturing to Frodo, “only then will you have the right to yell at me.” She
winked at the brunette, high fiving Rhys.
Anya was the only one giggling, and Kaitlen glared at her. “It still annoys us
when you make out all the time.”
“Then we won’t make out all the time.” The blonde adjusted her position as she
picked up her wand, settling herself on Rhys’s lap as she twirled the
blackthorn stick in her fingers. “What? We’re just seven little devils hanging
out in the Room of Necessity. It’s not like we’re doing anything illegal.”
Kaitlen was too angry to form a reply.
Too annoyed by the conversation, Dylan cleared his throat. “So. Does anyone
want to play Wizard’s Chess?”
===============================================================================
11.00 September 3rd, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters - Common Room #10
“How was Berlin, Frodo?” Anya asked, handing the brunet a cup of tea. She had
made sure to keep it in stasis since Lora had brewed it over half an hour ago.
The brunet smiled, taking it from her. “Berlin was great. Though Magda is no
less single.” Anya rolled her eyes at that. “Many of our contacts have noted a
sharp intake in recruits ever since school broke out for summer. Some of them
are under surveillance for suspected ties to the Dark Army, but nothing more
than the usual.” He raised an eyebrow. “According to Jakob, one of the most
promising recruits is an Renoir van Zandt.”
“van Zandt? Like Kasper van Zandt?”
Frodo sipped his tea. “Perhaps. He was raised in an orphanage in Bavaria.
According to the form he left us, his mother is Alexis van Zandt.”
Lena’s head immediately whipped around to face him. “Did you say Alexis?”
“Yes,” the Hitrost repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something you’d like
to share with the rest of us?”
“No,” the blonde frowned, “it was just that name sounded awfully familiar, is
all.” She took her seat in the largest sofa in the room. “Did you manage to
make contact with Miss Hansoff?”
“Of course I did,” the brunet said. “She said that all was progressing well at
the school and that nothing has been out of the ordinary except for a few duels
here and there. Already, first years are pledging their allegiance and most of
them are none of our own or the Dark Army’s.”
“Obviously not,” Lena bristled. “We raised our children to be smarter than
that.”
“I hope that we can end this war soon enough so that they don’t have to fight,”
she replied, sipping on her own cup of tea. She grinned as Rhys entered the
room, embracing him tightly before returning to the chaise next to her blonde
best friend. “It’s been awhile since we can all sit down like this, isn’t it?”
“It has,” Rhys noted, sitting next to his very pregnant wife. She nestled her
head on the nape of his neck, and he glared at the woman in question. “That’s
partially your fault. You shouldn’t spend so much time with Prentiss, Lena.
He’s not a good guy anymore.”
“I’m not spending a lot of time with him,” Lena frowned, “and besides, you
can’t be envious of him anymore. We’re married.” She gestured to her stomach.
“Who on earth do you think fathered this child? Jesus?”
“Isn’t Jesus dead?” Anya asked.
“That’s not quite the point,” the Uchitel snorted, “but I haven’t spent anytime
with him in the last couple of days considering the fact that I have been
confined to my bed and food along with the occasional walk. However, with
Rhys’s help, I didn’t have to do any kegel exercises for the past month, didn’t
I, Rhys?”
“Le,” Alora said, grimacing, “that’s waytoo much information for any of us.”
Next to her, Kaitlen laughed. “It’s not like we were any better when wewere
pregnant, Lora.”
“You were twenty when you were pregnant,” Rhys added, “and so it’s more
socially acceptable for you to be horny than for poor me and Le, who missed out
on sixteen yearsof - “
“Okay, we get it.” Frodo finished the last of his drink and set his cup on the
table. “But again, we are deviating from the matter at hand, like we always do
at these meetings. I also would like to announce that due to the sensitive
nature of Lena’s condition, Kait, you can’t duel her until she gives birth.”
Kait groaned, “But Froooooo… Lena’s a meanie!” She narrowed her eyes at her
husband, before shifting to a submissive pout. “Please, let me insult her.”
“You already do that on a regular basis,” the blonde countered. “You’re
standing right here.”
“See?” the brunette exclaimed, “she’s a meanie!”
“But also important to this plan,” Dylan said, entering the room with a poised
smile on his face. He sat next to his wife. “What are the main observations
detailed by the guards during their shifts?”
Frodo withdrew a long piece of parchment from his pocket. “The words that were
used most frequently were ‘boring’, ‘dull’, and ‘tame.’” The man snickered.
“Here’s my personal favourite, ‘Is he actually in the Dark Army? He seems a bit
tame, like a lamb. Sounds like utter tripe to me.’”
“This meetingis utter tripe.”
“Stop being rude, Kait.” Lora scolded, sitting up on her seat. “That doesn’t
sound like Chuck at all. He’d always had… acquaintances in school. No real
friends” - her glance shifted towards the blonde - “but he happened to know
everyone. That was why Daggerbutt keeps him around.”
“The only reason he knew anyone Leon Prentiss had a book detailing most of the
Magical families in Europe that somehowupdates itself,” Frodo said, his voice
the embodiment of perplexion, “the Prentisses - as we all know - are very good
at keeping track of themselves. I encountered this volume when we raided the
Prentiss property in Köln.”
Dylan Summoned a cup of coffee to him, sans sucre. “How come you never brought
it up before?”
“Because I never knew I had it until recently,” Frodo replied, his voice silky,
empty of doubt. The sharp change in tone did not go unnoticed by the rest of
the Seven Devils. “I think I should go over the Krause page again. Might bring
some truth to the whole Erich debacle.”
“Good call,” Lena agreed, giving him a curt nod. Something about her expression
made Anya sure that she knew more than she was letting on. “Now, onto the next
matter at hand: how do we get Chuck to turncoat?”
Rhys frowned at his wife. “I’m afraid you’re the only one of us who knows how
to do that,love.”
“I know,” the blonde replied, smirk on her face, “I was thinking about letting
Rhys seduce him if we weren’t married and it isn’t so painfully obvious how
straight he is.”
Anya and Lora gawked at their best friend. Kait began to hoot with laughter,
applauding. Rhys choked on his drink, his face the colour of his hair. Frodo
and Dylan merely sat back in their seats, looking amused.
“That’s a terrible, terribleidea,” Rhys interjected.
Lena cackled, throwing her head back. “Do you really think that I would do such
a thing? If you were a woman, it would definitely work. Alas, you’re not, so
we’re going to use me instead.”
At this, the ginger glared at his wife. “Pleasetell me you’re not going to
cheat on me.”
“And that very idea disgusts me, and my morals are few and far between.” Lena
attempted to kiss his forehead, though she could only manage his cheek. “I was
going to use our friendship against him. We allknow that despite our
allegiances, I’m one of the only real friends he has. So, when something
particularly big comes, say, the birth of my first child...”
“... he’d want to come and see, but before he can do that, he has to change
sides,” Frodo finished, frowning. “Are you sure that would work?”
“It sounds logical,” Dylan concurred, “Prentiss is an extremely emotional man.
Anyone can pick that out.”
“Good. Now that the meeting has ended, does anyone want to play Exploding Snap
with me?”
***** 2A: September 10th 2080 *****
Chapter Notes
     [stretches] i have 12 chapters written. go me.
09.00 September 10th, Year 20: Dungeons, Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
“Happy anniversary, Prentiss,” Dommi said, rapping her knuckles on the iron
bars of his cell. She heard him groan, rousing from his slumber and glaring at
the blonde. Smirking, she slid the breakfast between the bars.
“What is there to celebrate?” the brunet mumbled. He groggily took the tray
into his hands, scanning for any possible thing to hide poisons in before he
took the plastic fork provided and dug in under Dommi’s supervision.
“You’ve been here for a month,” she stated, “which means that the Lestranges
have one less informant. Of course, said informant is in the heart of the
opposition so I don’t think they lost all that much.”
“Boo hoo for me, I guess,” he said.
He barely felt the hunger pangs that had so often consumed him when he first
came, feeling rather full when he had finished his meal. In short, clipped
sentences, they had spoken about their time at Durmstrang and how their exes
were when they had graduated.
“Thank you for breakfast, Healer Wagner. I’m glad that you served me today.” He
frowned when she said nothing.
“What?” she asked, “should I be thankful for being the only one you can speak
to?”
“Better you than snakes.”
“I’m guessing Kait’s?” He nodded, exhaling as he realised he’d finished all the
food in the container. “If you speak Parseltongue, I heard they’re good
conversationalists.” 
“But I don’t.”
“Poor you, then.”
At the same moment, a glowing fox had chosen to enter, its silvery silhouette
reminding Charles what it was. It seamlessly bypassed the metal door that stood
in between them and the rest of the world. Dommi immediately erected a privacy
bubble around them, the sphere forming seamlessly around their heads, nodding
and popping it with a poke of her wand when the message had been relayed.
“Don’t be an idiot, Prentiss,” she said.
He snickered. “A bit too late for that.”
She scoffed, pointing her wand at him. The last thing Charles saw before the
world blacked out was her trademark coy, satisfied smirk.
===============================================================================
09.15 September 10th, Year 20: Dining Hall, Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
“The baby is late.”
Rhys raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t firstborns more likely to be late?”
Lena snorted. “The baby is half Vorstenbach. Vorstenbachs are never late.”
Ivanka found herself biting her tongue as her uncle retorted, “The baby is also
half Edmunds.”
The Queen of the Light found herself glaring at her husband, muttering
something about looking like a bloody penguin before attempting to stand up,
almost stumbling back down before Rhys was quickly by her side, their arms
linked as they returned to their quarters.
Ellie took that moment to sit beside her best friend, giggling. “That entire
conversation was so cute.”
Vanka smiled, gazing at her aunt continuing to bicker with her uncle. “Yeah, it
was.” She knew that she and Taden were stable and loving and very happy with
each other, but Lena and Rhys Edmunds – who had fallen in love in their first
year,no matter what anyone else said of the matter – were something else
entirely. Soulmates, even, if she believed in such a thing.
“Any chance of you birthing your own sprog in the next year?”
At this, the blonde had positively glaredat her best friend. The least Ellie
did was wince, which was the correct response. “I know,” she replied, “stupid
question – “
“Not just that,” she sighed, staring down at her fidgeting hands, “even if I
ever didonce ever have such frivolous thoughts, it would be unjust when we’re
still in the heat of war.” She stared at her aunt’s back, which seemed to be
trembling in the middle of the hallway. “Rhys and Lena waited for too long to
have a kidlet, so - “ 
There was a shriek. The two young adults turned to see the Light Queen
screaming, some liquid trickling down her legs and onto the floor. Vanka gaped
at the sight, her nose wrinkling in disgust.
“We don’t have time for that! Lena’s in labour!" They both removed their wands
from their pockets. "Go get Mum!”
The blonde in question grinned as she raced Ellie towards her aunt, sending
Dommi a Patronus of the news.
Vorstenbachs were never late – for important things, at least.
===============================================================================
06.30 September 11th, Year 20: Maternity Ward, Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
When a bright light hit his eyes, Charles screamed and his eyes flew open, only
to realise that he wasn’t on the floor of his jail cell. The surface beneath
him was quite soft – a mattress? – and he was surrounded by those he knew to be
Lena’s closest friends: Kaitlen, Frodo, and Alora. It was no surprise that she
chose thesepeople to back her up: one was callous, one was calm, and the other
was neutral.
“Listen up, dude,” the former hissed, jabbing her finger into his sternum.
“You’ve been here for a month and despite the fact that no one here likes
you,Lena decides that you deserve a bit of a reward.” She sighed. “God knows
why, but we both know that rewards always come with a price, don’t we,
Prentiss?”
Charles nodded.
Kait twirled her wand in her hands, showing off some impressive acrobatics
before pointing it directly at his chin. “Of course, we’re at war here, so the
price you pay will be information. Legili – “
“I don’t think we have to be that offensive, love,” Frodo interrupted, his tone
only baring the slightest of worry. His gaze turned towards Chuck. “All of
Kaitlen’s theatrics aside, she does demonstrate a point. In order for you to
see your reward, we need information. Something that we’ve never heard before
that could potentially come in useful.”
Charles barely wasted a breath. “Dagareth depends way too much on his good aim
and Ksenia has really good reflexes. There’s a reason they team up so well.”
Alora frowned, staring at Frodo. From reading her lips, it looked like
something along the lines of Lena already knew this. The man nodded, shaking
his head at his housemate. “Try harder.”
“If you want information,” Charles said dully, “why don’t you just use
Veritaserum?”
“Too much of it causes adverse effects to the liver and nervous system,” Frodo
replied, his tone cool and even unlike his wife’s, “and we know from
Interrogation lessons with Professor Bellamy that you had always been good at
resisting compulsion. Why else are you such a valuable foot soldier in the Dark
Army?”
Charles took no offense at his schoolmate’s words. That was true enough. “Are
you telling me that you could offer me a more suitable position for my
abilities?”
“Only Lena could ever make that decision,” Alora said, and Charles could detect
a little rage in her tone, “besides, we don’t sully ourselves with those who
believe that Muggles and Muggleborns are beneath us unless we need to.”
“I never believed in that rubbish,” Charles said, “but you can’t lie and say
that affiliating myself with the winning side wasn’t a smart move.”
“But it was a cowardly one,” Kait mocked. She wrinkled her nose. “We don’t have
all day to stare at your stupid face so, again, will you tell us information or
not?”
***** 2B: September 2080 *****
Chapter Notes
     did i mention mel is a lifesaver? she is. she totally is.
18.00 September 11th , Year 20
Lena watched Charles cradle the baby in his arms. He seemed like a natural,
humming the tune of Guten Abend und gute Nacht to little Anastasia Moira
Jestina Edmunds, who was fast asleep. But the blonde had known the man for over
thirty years, and one of the few things he was good at was pretending to be
good at things. Rhys was in the room with her, clenching her hand as he
observed the former Hitrost. Refusing to yelp in pain, the blonde raised an
eyebrow at her husband and he loosened her grip on her, her mind still adrift
in thought.
From his initial capture, Lena knew that her former best friend would have some
uses. Though he was not in the Inner Circle – she had Aubrey Yusikova for that
purpose – she knew that his direct association with the Dark Lord himself made
him privy to a few things. Hell, he wasn’t even loyal to her and Dommi, people
she considered particularly close to him. His loyalty was fickle, a dandelion
in the breeze, and the Light Queen expected him to give it up quickly. She
didn’t expect it to be so much as Kaitto be the one to break him; she thought
that being her friend during their childhood made him immune to her friend.
You’ve got to admit, Lena thought dryly. Perhaps Kaitlen’s theatrics do serve a
purpose after all.
“Charles,” she called. The brunet immediately perked up at her call,
practically grinning.She couldn’t help but give him a smile of her own; she
felt rude otherwise. “I’d like to have Ana back, if you don’t mind.”
He seemed fazed for a moment, staring down at the baby. His lips pursed as her
eyes fluttered open, big blue eyes he never had staring back into his brown
ones. From a few feet away, Lena swore that she could hear his heart drop as he
surrendered her child to her.
The blonde pressed a kiss to Ana’s forehead, passing her on to Rhys before
asking for a private audience with her childhood friend. She had so many
questions: how far in he was with Dagareth’s outer circle was to know where
they were holding their supplies and if their stubborn attitudes towards
Muggles made them unwilling to harness Muggle methods. The blonde knew from
school that Ksenia was not so stupid as to let an entire arsenal of weapons go
unnoticed, but her husband was more rash. There was also the fact that by
sheer, dumb luck, Lena had only found a few foot soldiers that were moles sent
by Dagareth and even with chance on their side there was no way at least one of
the people higher up wasn’ta mole. Chara Bellamy came to mind as she traced the
thought.
“You want children, don’t you?” she asked once Rhys left, her eyes quickly
turning towards her best friend.
“That obvious?” he replied, supplying a smile with his answer. Somehow, Lena
knew this to be a furtive action, yet she gave him one of her own.
“Giving up Alex couldn’t have been easy,” Lena replied, pausing. “Dommi told me
how well you handled him when he was born.”
Charles shrugged his shoulders. “Well, giving up information isn’t easy
either.”
Thinning her lips, Lena raised an eyebrow. “Fuck, Chuck. You cannot possibly
think that when you came here – the heart of the opposition – your loyalty
would not be tested.”
The brunet regarded her with disgust for a second, his brows furrowing
slightly. (They had always been a tell of his.) “What loyalty? I’m traitor to
him thanks to what I told your friends. ” She tilted her head at him, her eyes
brimming with skepticism. “You thought that my loyalty, all this time, was with
him?”
“Was there any other logical conclusion that could be drawn from your constant
fraternisation with the Dark Army at school?”
“No, there wasn’t.” It was so typical, Lena thought, for him to concede to her
speculations so quickly. “Being with… Dagareth, however, had never been about
me. It had never been about Dommi, or my sister or hell, even my son.”
“Who, Chuck? Who is worth all this heartache for you to be able to liefor the
past twenty years?”
There was something about his smile that turned Lena’s heart stone cold.
His reply did nothing to warm it.
===============================================================================
 
11.00 September 19th , Year 20
“You can’t be serious,” Taden protested, “you can’t possibly think it’s a good
idea to publish this. Not now.”
Dylan Veer respected his protégé, though he secretly thought that the man –
like his wife – was prone to emotional outbursts. He lacked the political
ingénue Frodo had, but the man was still considered terrifying by the Dark Army
for a reason. He didn’t need many words to scare people: only a properly
sourced pamphlet and a few papers could do the same.
Lifting his glasses, he said, “We are running out of funds. We have all this
research – which took us five years, remember? We’ve sent it out for peer
review in Britain, a country that has remained neutral. St. Mungo’s have
published papers as old as the days when Hermione Weasley headed the Department
of Magical Law Enforcement that pretty much says the exact same thing. If she
can convince most of Britain – arguably the most conservative Wizarding country
in the world –of her logic, there is no reason why we cannot use this to gather
sympathy, which in turn, should get us some funds.”
Taden frowned, “But how are any of these things going to get across the border?
Many of the printing presses are broken down and the closest ones are in
Paris…” He trailed off, wincing.
Dylan could understand his concern at the thought. The battle in Paris that
occurred three years earlier had all but ruined the magical part of the city
and almost wiped out the Muggle one. Their side had suffered some great losses,
Laetitia Bellamy being the most prominent. With their star interrogator dead,
it was up to Kaitlen and Frodo to pick up where she left off, and he was not
going to deny that their prowess in offensive and defensive spells respectively
more than made up for her loss.
It had been the first large battle for many of them, and many of the younger
generation had achieved their first kill here – his own daughter being one of
them. Dylan couldn’t remember Taden’s specificrole in the battle, but the man
was definitely present, fighting against his parents in the open for the first
time.
Yes, there were definiteconcerns on his part.
“The city itself shouldn’t be a problem, if that helps,” Dylan replied, making
no move to calm the younger man down. He didn’t need to; most Parisians were
sympathetic to their cause and some even vehemently opposed Dagareth’s attempts
to take over the city.
However, getting to the city required some thorough planning; though their
headquarters were essentially Unplottable, Dylan knew that they were somewhere
in the Czech Republic, so they needed to Portkey to Berlin before taking the
Muggle train to Paris. That was the most straightforward plan, and one he was
sure that Lena and Rhys might not improve of.
“I know,” Taden said, “but getting there would be hard. Vanka said that a smart
move would be to Portkey to Italy, take the train to Geneva, drive to Lyon and
then Apparate to Paris. Of course, now that I told you all that…”
“I can see how she developed that plan, but again, I’m going to have to run the
entire trip through Lena first. While I write that up, do you mind going
through the paper one more time, please?”
Taden grinned, “Sure. Can I start designing the pamphlet as well?”
“Of course, Wells. Lead the way.”
***** 2C: September - October 2080 + Flashbacks *****
Chapter Summary
     “You can’t just kiss me and make me feel all tingly and then just
     leave me alone for some other wench! I am a human being and I don’t
     deserve that!”
Chapter Notes
     Thank you Nia for proofreading like, 1/2 the chapter. Thank you to
     Hannah for all the reviews you leave.
     (Also I think my Charliddy trash is showing.)
22.00 September 28th, Year 20: Room 5
The conditions for Charles’s freedom had been simple: he’d be monitored 24/7,
he may only associate with a few, and he was never to be on his own. Ever.
The last condition had only proved problematic when they decided that it was a
great idea to let him shack up with his ex-girlfriend and the mother of his
only child. Had it been any other situation, he would have suspected Lena of
matchmaking, but such follies often escaped her notice if not only because she
didn’t care.
It seemed that Dominique was hell-bent on ignoring him, and he honestly
couldn’t blame her. There were nights where she turned the Wireless all the way
up, singing along to some guy called Parry Hotter – which was a stupid fucking
excuse for a name. Sometimes she would wake up from her nightmares, screaming
Seamus over and over again, rolling back and forth on her bed until he woke up
and slowly soothed her to sleep.
Frankly, it was difficult to look at Dommi without green-tinted glasses. Out of
their relationship, she definitely got the long end of the stick. She had a
family, friends, and found love in the war. All he managed to rack up in the
same period of time was information and fear: things he had plenty of to begin
with. He too found a little love here and there, but he’d rather put that in a
compartment in his head until he died.
“You can’t ignore me forever, Dommi,” he said as she walked slammed the door
shut last night.
She Scourgified the last section of the room the moment he began speaking, and
he rolled his eyes. “Seriously. This is a bit childish for the both of us,
since we both have children.” She began humming some Parry Hotter tune called
Puzzled Philosopher’s Stone, effectively tuning him out.
“I know living with me is like living with a den of snakes – trust me, I get
the feeling – but for Circe’s sake please,let’s tryand pretend to be civil
because like it or not, we’re stuck with each other.”
Dommi turned to face him. “Wow. Look at you Chuck, negotiating for once. Of
course we’re civil, but it doesn’t mean I have to likeyou.”
“Gee, I couldn’t tell by the way you pretend I don’t exist.”
“I’ve done it for the last twenty years, Chuck,” she said deadpanned,
“difficult to be civilto someone who left you and your kid – someone who you
loveddeeply – when they just turn around and join forces with the ones who want
to murderpeople like me and my family. People who are not pure of blood,like
that fuckingmatters anymore.”
“Like I told Lena, it had never been about me. It never was.”
Realisation dawned on Dommi, and she let out a hollow laugh. “Oh my god. Are
you telling me that after all this time, you still love Liddy? Or was it
Kendera? Or Noah? Or that blonde psycho that – “
“All of them, and that’s enough, Dom. I know I love her. I alwayswill, the same
way I accept the fact that you will always love Seamus.” Immediately, the
blonde looked crestfallen in grief. “I didn’t know O’Malley very well, but I’m
glad he lived and took care of you when I couldn’t.”
“I love him, Chuck,” she whispered, her eyes shining with tears. She pressed
her temple to his shoulder. “I loved him so much. Why did God take him away
from me like he did Kieran? Is there even a God at all?”
“I can’t answer your questions, but I can say that if you need someone to talk
to about… your grievances, I’m here and I always will be, for the foreseeable
future.”
They exchanged wan smiles. “I don’t believe you,” she replied, “but I’ll take
it.”
===============================================================================
 September 28th, Year -3: The Catacombs
“Missed me, Charles?”
Liddy’s greeting had always sounded like a purr to him, a liana that grabbed
his attention and left none to spare. The cave didn’t provide him with much
light to really see the girl – woman? – but he didn’t need light to know that
she was the most beautiful person he will ever see. Strands of her jet-black
hair reminded him of Medusa’s snakes, curling around the air around them,
licking their lips and drawing him in. Her pale skin reminded him of the snow
he had always been too eager to touch, recoiling once he found himself too
frigid to dig his fingers through them. Her dainty features did well to mask
the serpent underneath.
It was no real wonder to anyone who could read him that despite the fact that
he barely saw her for moments at a time, he had been utterly in love with this
witch since his first year. It felt like a chapter of Harry Potter’s
(unauthorised) biography written by Dennis Creevey, where Ginny Potter revealed
that she had had a crush on him since they were kids and to end up with him was
a bloody miracle.
From the way that Liddy was, how she came and went like the Room of Requirement
and was the epitome of intelligence and beauty and wit, he felt as if there
would be an apocalypse before he ever got to go on a date with her, let alone
hold hands and give her a proper kiss like the one he gave Tshering last week
before they parted ways and moved on. Sometimes he wondered if he really wanted
to date her and not the idea of her – he’d learned the hard way that the two
were very different things.
“Of course I missed you,” he replied: a reflex, an involuntary response that
filled him with joy and trepidation, a care that he lacked with any other
except that of his guardian.
“Didn’t seem like it when I heard you hooking up with Tshering in one of the
classrooms at Hogwarts.”
At this, Charles’s heart dropped immensely. At first he wanted to counter that
Rhys and Lena got together by making out in the Astronomy Tower in front of
Professor Wyse, but that seemed a bit insensitive of him. He knew that she knew
about his involvement with the Ravenclaw, but she didn’t know that it had been
of a purely physical nature: one frantic with touching for the sake of release
without the risk of emotional attachment. If this were any other universe, the
Hitrost would reply with the fact that it was she he came to: with Tshering or
in his own hand, but somehow it would feel improper to unravel the little
secret he had from her.
It did seem unfair, because there were plenty of them.
“I am quite sure of two things. One, Tshering and I are no longer an ongoing
concern. Two, that sex and love are two different things,” Charles said dimly,
his own parents a shining example, “I mean have you seen some pureblood
marriages? My grandparents liked shagging each other, but love was never in
that equation.”
“Does it mean nothing to know that I had hoped that one day we would lose our
virtues together?”
Charles opened his mouth, before closing it again as he spared her statement
another thought. Purely based on her regal attitude and knowledge of pureblood
customs that even he had forsaken, he assumed that she was one and had already
been betrothed. (His own betrothal to Maria van Rotterdam at the age of four
had been revoked once her family discovered his mother’s origins and his semi-
formal one with Lena would go to hell once she married Rhys anytime now.) But
their circle was getting smaller with every generation – the only ones he knew
of that resided in Germany were the Kleins, James and Vorstenbachs (ignoring
Alexander’s marriage to his English Muggleborn) – which made it impossible to
miss a pureblood betrothal.
“Aren’t you betrothed, Liddy?”
“Whether I am or not is none of your business.”
Ah, a secret betrothal then. That still didn’t line up with his idea of them;
he knew the Krauses were a powerful family and anyone who would be promised to
one would be absolutely thrilled. Yet there was never a Lidwina Krause in his
family’s genealogy journals aside from one that was old and dry, which only
left more questions in Charles’s mind, but it was far too hazy on thinking
about the brunette’s voice and how it would sound screaming his name to care.
“I see. I never thought that I’d be someone you’d trust with such a… large
responsibility.” He questioned every word of his sentence. “We’ve never held
hands, let alone kissed, Liddy. To me, this sort of statement seems to come out
of nowhere. Unless you too dream of me as I dream of you.”
“And what sort of dreams are those?”
Charles flushed. “Not the kind I feel comfortable speaking out loud. I’m afraid
my relationship with Tshering went a lot further than I thought it would.”
“Teenage hormones are torrid things,” she replied. “I hate the fact that you
forget me in lieu of someone so much better when I’d rather have you to
myself.”
“How could you think I ever forgot you? You’re unforgettable.” He found himself
stepping closer to her, taking a few more steps until his face was inches from
hers. He could feel her hot breath on his face, and his heart pounding was the
loudest thing in the room. “I know we don’t see each other often but it doesn’t
mean that I forget about you on our days off.”
“As if a few choice words could ever excuse your actions.”
“It won’t, but unless we see each other more often, I could settle for this.”
He cupped her chin in his palm, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was
chaste and quick, and he pulled away as soon as he felt her soft mouth.
Liddy pulled Charles back in, grabbing his collars and parting his lips with
her own. He let go of her chin, his hands awkwardly placing themselves on her
shoulders before gently making their way down her back. When he heard no
protest, he held her waist, his gentle grip slowly guiding her body closer to
his.
Their kiss was a fierce battle and when they pulled apart for air, he could
make out the outline of her swollen lips. A hot, needy feeling began coiling up
in his groin and he kissed her again, his hands sliding up her sides and his
grip on her waist tightening, groaning her name into her mouth. Like a
lightning shock, she jerked away from him, glaring daggers at him before her
palm collided with his cheek with a loud smack.
“You can’t just kiss me and make me feel all tingly and then just leave me
alone for some other wench! I am a human being and I don’t deserve that!”
She stomped her feet on the ground, marching away into the darkness. As Charles
watched her, he wondered if he would ever see her again; his heart wasn’t in
the right place to provide her with the devotion she very much wanted and did
deserve.
===============================================================================
08.28 October 1st, Year 20: Laboratory
Lena, Dylan and Taden occupied the round table at the edge of the laboratory.
The blonde was leafing through the study, scribbling some notes on the margin
with her Quick-Quotes Pen. When she read the final page, she found herself
grinning, her thoughts racing as she gave the report back to Dylan.
“I’m sincerely pleased,” she beamed, the remark obviously meant more for Taden
than his superior. “Ksenia Lestrange knows of science and is obviously good at
harnessing it, but introducing Muggle and Wizarding methods and combining them
to make such an important document… well, that is nothing short of genius. I
trust that you have put security measures in place?”
“We were going to shrink it enough and inject it into my dermis once we leave,
Lena,” Dylan said, “it should hold for at least forty-eight hours which is
enough time to arrive in Paris even with any disruptions.” He glanced at his
junior. “It was his idea.”
“Smart, Taden. I’m proud of you,” Lena remarked brightly. She knew that Taden
had been academically inclined from his grades once he applied to join Lumen de
Lucerna, but she knew that as with most academics – herself included – they had
trouble applying their vast shelves of knowledge into something more practical.
It was because of said troubles that Lena had come up with a few more defensive
spells of her own, ones that she wanted to try practically soon.
“Thank you, Le – Missus Edmunds,” Taden said meekly, a healthy shade of red.
She considered her nephew-in-law for a moment, removing her own feelings of
attachment to the man. He had always been good to Vanka, bringing her down and
reminding her to control her temper. He was intelligent, quiet, but deep enough
into the ground to know things, especially if his wife was as open with him as
she was with her aunt. His family’s allegiance – though this was not the
onlyreason Lena distrusted him as she did anyone – did not help, elevating him
as one of the people that could be the mole in their organisation.
“Call me Lena,” she replied, waiting for Dylan to look through her notes. “I’m
quite surprised that we even foundequipment to sequence the genomes of all
these people, let alone people to test on.”
“Unlike the Dark Army,” Dylan pointed out, “we’re tolerant of Squibs. Though
they’re not Muggles per se, they lack the gene that makes us magical, and
therefore good test subjects. I would also like to remind you that yes, all
test subjects consent to their data being published – anonymously, of course –
and I shall make a note of that somewhere in the study. As for the equipment,
we wouldn’t have them without the help of our allies in England. A couple of
assassins, Anna Tshering and her wife Iris Grayson, are sympathetic to our
cause and bought one just for us.”
“Grayson,” Lena repeated, her expression contemplative, “isn’t that Kait’s
sister?”
“That’s the one. I was reluctant to accept their help since Tshering had an
unsavoury role in the Diagon Alley bombings of 2053, but Grayson assured that
she could be trusted. And Kaitlen insisted that we insiston her sister’s
assistance, and you know hard it is to say no to that spitfire, so here we
are.” Dylan’s eyes glimmered. “Rumour has it that she was involved with Charles
Prentiss during his exchange year.”
“She was, but that doesn’t matter,” Lena said, remembering the girl well. Long
black hair and olive skin, a tendency to smirk rather than smile and more
cunning than they gave her credit for: the first of Charles’s ex-girlfriends.
“So it could be said that she is an ally of ours?”
Dylan nodded. “I know you’re wondering: how is that going to help with France?
Not to worry, I still hear from a supposedly dead man named Julian Rousseau and
his wife Ondrea: they keep me informed of what’s going on above the
Headquarters and have said that I will be under their protection.”
“Supposedly dead?”
“Yes. He has been dead for years, according to most people. That fact alone
makes him quite handy.”
“How did you meet him?”
“A friend of a friend of mine met him during my exchange year. Quite the
womaniser back then.” Dylan sipped his tea. “We must be boring poor Taden to
death here with twenty-year-old gossip.”
“N – No,” Taden replied sheepishly, “I just – well, your student lives sounded
a lot better than mine for such obvious reasons but – Professor Dylan, can we
really trust this Julian guy?”
“I too am doubtful of his… loyalties,” Lena agreed.
Dylan paused for a moment. “His wife is no pureblood and he himself is a
Muggleborn. With the way the Dark Army is slaughtering Muggles and creatures
left and right in Eastern Europe, I don’t think they have much cause to side
with them.”
“There is something called coercion.Or have you forgottenabout something called
the Imperius curse?”
“I haven’t forgotten, and I didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary the last
time I performed Legilimency on them.”
Lena’s lips tightened. “And when was that?”
“A while ago.”
She exhaled, waving her hand in a swishing motion to refill her tea. Taden
blinked, eyes widening at such an action. “Fair enough. I didn’t think many of
us would return to France after the Battle.”
There was a silence. “I… Lena,” Taden sputtered, his thoughts exploding like a
jack-in-the-box, “you just – “
“Yes, I just used wandless magic to do something trivial. Some might say I am a
particularly lazy woman” – she and Dylan exchanged glances, the latter almost
smiling – “but I consider every possibility on the battlefield especially when
one of the many things that can go wrong is losing my wand. I am an extremely
powerful witch, Mister Wells, and apparently that ability is genetic, looking
at your wife. I suggest that you take some cues from her and learn some
properwandless magic – not the shit they taught you at Docentrebis.
“Aside, we should really discuss your travel plans. I believe it is your
jurisdiction , Mister Wells. I’ve had to set up threePortkeys and smuggle some
train tickets from the black market, which wasn’t easy.”
“I might have went a bit overboard,” the blond replied meekly, his skin turning
an amusing shade of bright red.
“No such thing as overboard when it comes to security. I’m more relieved at the
fact that you chose not to drive, which is dangerous even where there are two
competent wizards at the wheel.” She gave him one of her genuine smiles; after
all, they did just prove her right. “Like I said before, I am quite proud of
you, Taden. So far you have given me few reasons to suspect you of being
dishonest. But rest assured, if I dohave any, you would be Obliviated and
jailed straight away.”
“I know,” Taden said, his shoulders straight and chin up. “I do not intend to
let you down, Mi – Lena. I swear it.”
The Light Queen gave a warm laugh. “If you were in Hogwarts, they’d have called
you a soft Hufflepuff, but it could be said that no one has ever heard the
Hufflepuff war cry and survived. Your loyalty is anything but soft, and I can
only hope that it is as strong as the diamond on my finger.”
She stood from her seat, bowing to the two men. “I cannot express how proud I
am for the both of you, and as much as I would love to talk more about the
scientific aspects of your discovery, I must attend to my daughter.”
Her eyes only gleamed of reverence as she left the room, absent of their usual
pessimism.
***** 2D: October 2080 *****
Chapter Summary
     "Welcome to the Mother’s Club, Lena – where the only exit is death.”
Chapter Notes
     i am 15/101 on writing. go me.
13.45 October 4th, Year 20: Conference Room
Lunch for Kait had been quick. Lena and Rhys had summoned the Seven Devils for
a meeting earlier that morning. To her surprise, she had actually shown up
earlier than any of her friends; she was usually the last one to arrive along
with her husband, though she did not notice how Dylan and Alora had been
slacking recently to make time for their quick interludes. Lighter in hand, she
tossed it repeatedly in the air, catching it in her palm when she heard the
door open and two familiar voices began yelling at each other, increasing in
volume as the pair grew closer to her.
“Rhys, we don’t have timefor a bubble bath and massage. We have a war going on
here!”
“I think you need them considering you think our one-month-old is a spy for the
Dark Lord communicating in Morse code. Do babies even knowMorse code?”
“She could’ve learned it from me while she was in my womb. Babies develop ears
six weeksinto pregnancy. Six! Imagine everything she could’ve learned about
military codes and our bases and – “
“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Lena, it’s not like Ana will rememberany of it.”
“She’s mybaby. Of course she’ll remember it!”
“Lena, we both know it’s not true. When was your first memory exactly?”
The blonde scowled mockingly at her husband, before tilting upwards and pecking
his lips, “Touché.”
Rhys chuckled, wrapping his arms around his wife’s middle. “You’re adorable.”
“And annoying,” Kait interjected, clearing her throat. They turned to look at
her. She was wearing an exasperated expression on her face. “To think that you
managed to knock Nick down a peg every day yet still be so nervous about your
own child. Welcome to the Mother’s Club, Lena – where the only exit is death.”
“One club I hope I’ll never leave,” the blonde agreed, sitting down on the
chair next to Kait. Rhys joined her, squeezing her hand beneath the desk.
Five minutes later, Anya and Frodo chose to make their entrance. The three of
them stood up from their seats to welcome them: Lena and Kait exchanged warm
embraces with Anya while Frodo and Rhys were shaking their hands.
“Interrogating Charles Prentiss is proving to be much more satisfying than I
thought,” Frodo said, a grin on his face, “he’s a lot more co-operating when he
knows he’s been cornered.”
“That doesn’t take a lot, considering he looked pretty fucking scared when I
was all up in his face the first time,” Kait grinned.
Anya laughed, “At least you didn’t have to get a knife out, or blow up the
maternity ward. Le would’ve had your head if you needed to do anything
extreme.”
“No I wouldn’t,” the blonde protested, which earned a snort from Kait. “I’m
hardly jesting, Kaitlen. If you blew up the maternity ward there would no me to
chop off your head.” She shook her head, nodding at the Veers when they
entered. “Now that we’re all here, we might as well get this meeting over and
done with so I can take a nap; Ana kept me up all night because someonedecided
to be difficult.”
Rhys feigned fear at his wife as she smacked him playfully on his arm, and the
seven took their respective places around the table. Lena and Rhys were seated
next to each other at the seats closest to the whiteboard, with Frodo on Rhys’s
right and Kait on Lena’s left. Alora and Dylan sat next to Frodo and Kait
respectively, Anya occupying the empty space remaining.
“I’m going to let this speak for itself,” Lena said, and the previously empty
board was now full of newspaper headlines. Wizards for Equal Rights attack
Finnish Ministry of Magic. Members of Dark Army massacred by Mudbloods.
Werewolves escape Fortress of Suomenlinna.Over twenty headlines with a similar
message followed below them.
“Are you serious?” Alora questioned, mouth wide open in shock, “none of my
Spanish and Portuguese friends have said anything about this.”
“They probably want to keep this out of the public eye,” Dylan replied coolly,
laying his arm on the table to clutch his wife’s hand.  She squeezed it back.
He and Frodo traded glances, knowing exactlywhy she had shown them this. “You
can’t be serious, Le.”
“What is she being serious about?” Anya said, before scanning the headlines
again. Her eyes visibly widened as a symbol of understanding. “Ah. I see.”
“Nope. Still don’t get it.” Kait tilted her head and Lena very quickly
whispered her intentions in her ear. The brunette stood up from her seat and
shrieked, “Are you out of your fucking mind, Vorstenbach?”
“Calm down, Kait. You’re going to make us all – “
“No, Frodo. I will not calm the fuck down. I know we’ve all made stupid
mistakes in the past but this is practically suicide, Lena. You have a
child,now. You can’t just – “
“Can someone please say the fucking words out loud?”Alora screamed.
There was a silence as Kait pointed a finger at the blonde. “Lena dearest,” she
jeered, “wants us to take over Helsinki, capital of Finland , which is right
next to Russia,which is where Daggerbutt and all his cronies live. We’re not
ready to fight them again. Not after – ”
“We can’t just keep using Paris as an excuse, Kaitlen. Wars don’t go on forever
and when we see an opportunity to fight back we take it, not sit back – “
“This won’t be fighting back, Lena. This is sending ourselves on a suicide
mission – “
“Then how do you suppose we’re going to practice for the battle that’s going to
inevitablycome?” Rhys said coolly, keeping his volume low. He glared at Frodo.
“Simulations? Analysing past battles and chess games?” Frodo aided, “there are
plenty of ways to prepare each other for battles without being in the immense
danger of being in one.”
“They aren’t enough.We tried that before Paris but – “
“ – that’s ridiculous, Lena. We all know Ksenia and Dagareth’s – “
“ – people’s styles change.Since the War began I’m a lot faster – “
“ – pish posh. Your signature’s spell has always been – “
“ – of course it was, it’s a very practical spell – “
“ – practical? Do you even hearyourself? That – ”
“SILENCIO!”
The cacophony of voices disappeared abruptly, Lena’s face contorted into one of
fear when she found that she could not speak. Rhys placed his wand back on the
desk, barely hiding his smirk at seeing six fully-grown adults glaring at him,
begging for him to lift the spell. “Fine,” he conceded, “but onlyif you act
like the adults you are about this.”
Lena let a dramatic tear roll down her cheek. At the sight, Rhys mumbled a
Finite and he found that no trace of it was there once she began talking. No
surprise there.
“Anyway, back to my point,”she said, “if we can get used to the way of war,
then our children sure as hell can.”
“But notwithout preparation,” Frodo added.
“Fine. We go to battle and die,” Kait folded her arms, sitting back in her
seat. “Just so the rest of you know, I hatethis.”
“No one likes battle, but even Lora thinks it’s necessary,” Anya said. “Anyway,
let’s go take a walk in the garden, Kait. I think we both need some time to
cool down after all this mess.”
Lena rushed after the both of them, yelling that she was coming and for them to
wait up. As the trio walked away, Rhys did not miss the distance Kait was
putting between her and the blonde. There was a silence before Dylan said,
“It’s not quite a Seven Devils meeting unless Kait and Lena stage a duel.”
“No it isn’t,” Frodo agreed, “I think that Le’s going to try and pether way out
of this.”
Alora frowned at his words, “I’ve never heard of wars ending because someone
decided to be petty.”
Rhys sighed, “No, but it has started many.”
===============================================================================
17.30 October 9th, Year 20: Dining Hall
Charles felt dizzy. He was used to using Occlumency to cover his mind, and so
lifting it up made him feel like a string had been snapped, and pretty much
fell asleep as Lena used Legilimency on him. From what she told him, she only
sifted through the memories where he met with the Dark Lady and he knew that he
had disappointed her because he had never been smart enough for Ksenia; he
could feel her superiority complex from miles off.
It was at dinner that his sense returned to him as Dommi chatted away with her
daughter and son. He tried not to crush his cup as he watched what might’ve
been if he hadn’t ran off to Dagareth at the first possible opportunity. A
family man, perhaps, who cared and loved for his children – or at the very
least, someone with a wife he could trust and count on not to run for the hills
once his cunning streak left a scar that ran too deep.
Ellie snapped her fingers in front of his face, the smile she put on warm and
reached her brown eyes. “Is everything okay, Mister Prentiss? You seem a little
bit out of it.”
Charles simpered, knowing that it often came across as a smile. “I’m quite
fine, Ellie. Thank you for asking.”
The woman continued to beam at him, interrupting Alex’s remark as she continued
to chatter about some of the make-up charms that she had been experimenting on
Cordelia Bellamy and how Madame had had her head on a stake once she realised
she had turned her daughter green.
“I never knew she had such a temper! You’d think that by the way she’s so nice
and properto everyone that she could hold me at wand point!”
“Haze’s temper is quite legendary,” Dommi said, grinning, “I remember when we
were at school, and we were fighting about some boy” – here she met Charles’s
gaze – “it wasn’t you, Chuck, get over yourself.So yeah, we were fighting over
this boy and we duelled near the Water’s Edge, proper rules and everything.”
“Wow,” Alex laughed, his eyes blatantly avoiding those of his biological
father. Something about the way the man sat, his arm rightly wound around his
mum made the conman feel bitter. “How did it turn out?”
“She won by a landslide and got the right to ask him out. She did, and got
rejected. Didn’t matter too much to me at the time, but Charles here asked me
out and you know the rest of that story.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him in
amusement, but the brunet knew the timing of the whole thing was off.
He went along with it anyway. “Wait, was this the time you duelled her over
Abraxas Montague?”
“Yeah, that’s the one! I can’t believe he ended up dating Minos Hansoff though.
I mean, if I knew he swung that way – ”
“I didn’t think anyone was meant to, Dom. Poor guy.”
They both sat there, laughing to themselves on old memories they had shelved
behind a brick wall made for safekeeping. His old nickname for her had slipped
out of his tongue without warning. Their eyes found their way back to each
other again, brown on brown, and he could feel the warmth that he had so dearly
missed from her flooding back again. His heart fluttered the way his sixteen-
year-old heart did the first time she was dressed in blue for their date, and
it soared with courage.
“So, do you want to have dinner next week, Dom?”
Dommi’s face paled. “I – well, I thought you’d never ask, Chuck.”
Behind them, Ellie began to snicker and Alex groaned.
===============================================================================
00.45 October 11th, Year 20: Portkey Room
“I can’t believe you’re really going back there, Daddy,” Ashley said, pouting.
Nick stood beside her, his arm slung around her shoulders, holding her close to
his frame.
Dylan looked at them, amusement the only expression apparent on his face as he
regarded two of the many people he regarded his kids. Merlin, I should start
planning The Talk with Frodo and Rhys when I get back.“We all have to face our
demons one day,” he said comfortingly, “and I assure you, we will be safe and
come back in one piece, Ash.”
“You know that I wouldn’t have let him go if I wasn’t at least eighty percent
sure he was going to be fine,” Alora added, kissing her husband chastely. He
raised an eyebrow at her at her sentence, and she chuckled. “Alright, eighty
point onepercent.”
“So distrustful of you, Lora,” Dylan teased, kissing her forehead. As his wife
and daughter began to talk about what they wanted him to get while they were in
Paris, Nick didn’t dare look at him. That gave Dylan a small something to
chuckle about. He had practically raised the boy, along with the rest of the
Seven Devils. Yes, he knew Nessie, Vanka and Ellie (plus now, he supposed,
little Ana) like his own children. With all of the battles and meetings that
were going on, they often asked each other to babysit, sometimes going as far
as paying when they were desperate.
So really, all Dylan had to do was a give a threatening, ‘you mess with my
daughter I mess with you’ talk to his own proverbial son. Which was nigh
impossible, because he’d never do that, yet at the same time he couldn’t
notgive a warning with a sinister undertone.
It took him a while for him to settle on the phrasing, but eventually he said,
“Take care of her while I’m gone, and we’re all good.” This earned a fervent,
firm nod from his maybe future son-in-law, and the elder man ruffled his dark
brown curls. “And if you break her heart, I will break your – “
“I know, Dylan,” Nick said, sounding exasperated, “Frodo and Rhys gave me the
talk about Ashley twicealready. I know that I have twenty people ready to fight
me if I so much look at her the wrong way.”
“As long as you don’t cheat or force yourself on her, then we’re not going to
go against you en masse.” He looked at the rest of his family, who were waiting
for him. He came over to them, Nick following quickly behind him. He gave his
daughter a kiss to the forehead, gave his wife a lingering kiss on her lips,
and whistled loudly.
Two heads of dishevelled blond hair came out of the nearby door. Dylan smirked
at Taden when he realised exactlywhat he had gotten up to. His wife mumbled a
few straightening charms at his shirt before leaping into his arms, capturing
him in a passionate kiss that no person would ever want to watch. In horror,
Lora screamed. That managed to pry Taden and Vanka apart, their faces beet red
in embarrassment.
“I understand that you two are going to be apart for some time,” Dylan said,
“but was that display really necessary in front of two such young innocent
people?”
“Ashley and I are almost the same age,” Vanka interjected.
“We both know I’m not all that innocent, Daddy,” Ashley chimed in at the same
time, trying not to snicker.
“You should really consider how they feel about all this, you know. This is a
public place. Imagine how many people would’ve been disgustedby your display,
Mister and Missus Wells. You know better.”
“I apologise, Dylan,” Vanka said, choosing to ignore Dylan’s outburst before
giving him a hug. “Take care of my husband, yeah?”
“Of course,” Dylan said, the words hanging heavy. No one could deny her
devotion to Taden, and if anyone was going to truly kick his ass if he came
back dead, it would be that girl. Just as terrifying as her äiti.
As he and Taden made their way to the Portkey, he saw that he had only a minute
left before he was due to leave. His family and Vanka stood a few feet away
from them with varying emotions. Ashley and Lora were a little tearful, Nick
was already waving his hands, and Vanka was trying her best to look cool. Dylan
chose this image to remember of his family as his navel was pulled quickly
inward, leaving them behind.
***** 2E: October 11th 2080 *****
Chapter Summary
     It was to their surprise when they discovered a cow had been the
     Portkey.
Chapter Notes
     the last filler chapter for a while (i hope)
     + julrea cameo bc why not
00.30 October 11th, Year 20: Room 5
Dommi sat up in the bed, turning on the little night light next to the bed.
“Can you sleep, Chuck?”
Charles, who groaned, answered, “Nah, not really.”
The Healer held the sheets close to her chest, crushing them with her fists as
she smirked at the brunet. “How come?”
He rolled his eyes.  Merlin, this woman is  impossible. “I’m thinking about how
you were on top of me about half an hour ago, and  this  is the time you choose
to be demure and innocent?”
“I am  not  being demure and innocent,” Dommi protested. She leaned in, closing
the gap between them, and gently kissed him on the lips. Her hand trailed down
his side, cupping his arse, pulling his body close to hers.
Charles came to life again, moaning into her mouth. His arm, which had always
been under her shoulders, trailed down to her waist before squeezing her arse.
Dommi yelped and broke away from the man, laughing once she saw his shocked
reaction. “I was being a tease, Chuck – the worst kind of girl.”
“Why you oughta – “ His fingernails lightly grazed the skin of her neck, but it
was enough to send the woman into peals of laughter. He was thrown back twenty
years when she did, reminded of the schoolgirl who had that same laugh when she
was dragging him to broom closets to snog before Potions. He missed those
times, if only because they were simpler and his hands were clean.
“S – Stop!” Dom squealed, pushing him away from her.
Charles put up a mock frown and she began laughing again, and he quickly
decided that it was one of his favourite sounds. Ahead of her laughter was when
she was saying his name and pretty much any noise Liddy made out of her mouth.
Oh Liddy. He’d spoken to Dom at length about her today and she’d done the same
with Seamus, and it was more an exercise to get that off their chests more than
anything else. He’d told her that she would never marry him and that he was
probably nothing more than a very good fuck buddy to her, something that was so
wrongwrong wrong considering their last meeting, but he needed to convince
himself that there was no Liddy to pine after.
The fact that the man  allowed  himself to run after the Metamorphmagus for
almost three decades was pretty fucking pathetic without any true concrete
evidence of reciprocation, to be honest. Even  he  thought that. Hell, the girl
had married another dude, had a kid with him and he  still  liked her. Still
agreed to warm her bed for weeks at a time before she disappeared. Still did
some awful things for her. Still loved her.
Enough to think that the only other thing worthy of his time was  Dark Army
gossip.
He turned away from those thoughts, instead focusing on the woman with the
bright laugh that made him think the sun shone out of her arse, was horrible at
attacking people, and believed in Hippogriff rights. That’s the kind of woman
he deserved and for now, wanted.
His fingers stopped tracing her arm as she bid, and he proceeded to plant a
gentle kiss on her cheek. “You are quite adorable, young lady.”
Dom snorted. Yet another beautiful sound. “You are quite charming yourself,
monsieur.”
Charles positioned himself on top of her. “Oh,  am  I now?”
===============================================================================
 
06.25 – 10.30 October 11th, Year 20: France
Dylan and Taden had first arrived in a barn in Austria. It was to their
surprise when they discovered a  cow  had been the Portkey. They were then
transported to an abandoned Italian cottage off the coast of Sicily before they
arrived in Wizarding Lyon, where they were greeted by a handsome man’s face.
“I expected Rousseau,” Dylan said, smirking once the other man rolled his eyes.
“Is my face not pretty enough for you, Veer?” he replied, turning his head to
face the blond, extending an arm so that they could shake hands. “I’m Hazelle’s
brother, Jakob. Unlike my sister, I don’t care whether you Scourgify the plate
first before handing it to me. Nice to finally meet you, uh…”
“Taden,” he said, “Taden Wells.”
Jakob’s arms immediately dropped to his sides, his face turning a sour
experience. “Erick’s son,” he muttered, before clearing his throat and
beginning to speak again. “My apologies. He and I were in the same year at
school and… let’s say he was not the most pleasant boy to be friends with.”
“I can empathise,” he looked around at the room they were in. To his luck, the
older man did not pursue the matter of his father further. It was quite empty,
with black shelves lining the white walls that were full of books. On the walls
were lots of pictures, some of which included a younger version of Hazelle
Bellamy at her wedding, Jakob and his sisters in Durmstrang, and a photo of
what he was sure were the von Bergens, though there were some that he did not
recognise.
“I’d tell you about everyone in my family, but we simply lack the time.” Jakob
took Taden by the arm and led him to the entrance of the door, where a tall
blonde was waiting for them.
“What on  earth  took you so long, Jakob?” she said grumpily, though her
expression immediately perked when she saw Dylan. “Oh! Mr. Veer, I hope you
remember me from school, I’m – “
“It’s nice to meet you again, Magda.” He took the woman’s hand and kissed it
out of mere politeness. There was a look of amusement on his face as he
remembered how the elder girl had a bit of a crush on him in his fifth year and
proceeded to remind him of it at every single opportunity, despite the fact
that he was already quite taken with Alora back then.
“It’s nice to see you too!” Magda responded cheerily, for once not blushing or
throwing him a flirtatious remark. “Come! My sister’s going to drive us all to
the station.”
Taden looked quite nervous once he saw the car. “I, uh, what’s that?” he asked,
pointing at it with a bewildered expression on his face.
“This is a Ferrari F12, all the way from 2014. In Muggle France, my baby is
worth  billions.”  Jakob petted the car lovingly,  “but you can call her
Beatrice.”
“I – “
“You’re riding shotgun, Taden,” Magda interrupted, pushing the younger boy
towards the door. Sheepishly, the blond opened the door, got in and closed it
shut. “What the hell did he ride for his wedding anyway, a Hippogriff?” Dylan
nodded. “Circe’s left tit, you  can’t  be  serious  – “
“Oi! Magda! We don’t have all day! You’re not even  coming,  for crying out
loud.”
“All because of that  one time – “
“Thank you so much for the help, Magda. I hope to see you again soon.” Dylan
shoved Jakob into the backseat, and the older man screamed when his head hit
the roof of the car. “How is the French base?”
“Preparing quite well for Helsinki. I hope I won’t have to see you there.”
“Don’t think I’ll make it back in time for that.” He gave Hazelle one last wave
before he entered the car himself, realising that the entire time they had been
talking, Taden had acquainted themselves with whoever was in the front seat.
“Let’s go,” Dylan said, and the engine immediately began to rev as they raced
away from a rather disgruntled Magda. Jakob let out a sigh next to him, asking
the driver – Johanna, her name was – to pick up speed.
“I might be a Squib, Jakob,” she scolded, the boredom in her tone making it
obvious that this was not the first time this sort of thing has happened, “but
I am not a doormat, nor am I going to break any more traffic laws than I
already have to.”
“Huh?” Taden asked, “wha – “
Johanna made a very sharp turn to the right, and thankfully, everyone had the
sense to put on their seatbelts once Jakob and Dylan were tossed onto the other
side of the car, a tangle of limbs as Dylan’s head rested on Jakob’s lap. The
rest of the ride was equally as turbulent, and it was a surprise that they
managed to survive the trip at all. The woman saluted the three men off before
she drove off to her yoga class,
There, they waited until the train arrived. The train had arrived impeccably on
time, as always, and Dylan was quite glad that it had. Jakob showed them to
their seats. The doors closed automatically, which startled Taden a little, but
his shock was quickly dissipated as the train left the station and the scenery
seemed to run away from him. During the journey, Taden alternated between
staring outside the windows and writing profusely in his journal, even taking a
few photos, as part of a present he vowed to show Vanka when they got back to
Headquarters.
If  they got back.
While he was doing that, Jakob and Dylan had engaged in several games of chess,
which the latter won easily.
At approximately nine-thirty, the trio were almost arriving at Gare de Lyon. It
took a while for Taden to exit the gate, as he was somewhat confused with how
the tickets worked, but he got it eventually. They were immediately greeted
with the welcome faces of Julian and Ondrea Rousseau.
“Now there’s a face that I’d like to see,” Dylan smiled, embracing Julian and
giving him a pat on the shoulder. The couple introduced themselves to Taden,
who took an immediate liking to them as far as the eye could see.
Jakob snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re out here. In the open.
Where everyone can  see  you. Are you sure this is a good – “
“Jully’s fine. We’ve got that under control,” Ondrea snapped, “now let’s get
these two out of here so they can get some  proper  rest.”
===============================================================================
 
17.45 October 11th, Year 20: Dining Hall
The Dining Hall had been transformed. Gone were the groups of tables that
housed the five hundred or so Rebels for dinner, and they were replaced by a
long row of benches on either side of the Hall.
At the front of the room, what remained of the Seven Devils were busy. Anya was
casting Undetectable Extension Charms on everyone’s rucksacks that Frodo had
already cast Weightlessness Charms on. Kait and Lena were getting catnaps –
there were recent burn marks on the walls that were half removed. Meanwhile,
Rhys was tending to the baby, ensuring that Dommi knew  exactly  what to do
with Ana while he was gone, and Lora was practicing her weaker spells.
Ivanka and Ellie were in the crowd, duelling each other as a warm-up. Frodo
observed how the duels between them were almost seamless. He knew that Ellie
was not the strongest dueller of her generation, but Protego and Impedimenta
had always come easier to her than something like Reducto or Stupefy. Having
seen how well they worked in tandem in Paris as sixteen-year-olds, it was no
surprise that even fighting for the both of them was smooth. He did, however,
see one marked difference between them, but before he could think it to himself
Kait had roused from sleep and kissed his forehead.
“Was I out for long?” she asked, grimacing at the marks on the walls. She began
to speak again when her husband nodded. “Remind me to cause that much damage on
Daggerbutt when we fight, now will you?”
“I had to cast bloody  Sleeping Charms  on both of you to get you to shut up,”
Lora grumbled. “Does this have to happen before  every  battle?”
“Catnaps are good for the soul,” Lena said, “and besides, not everyone can give
me as much of an offense as Kait over here. Not everyone has the Reducto power
of Daggerbutt, and that’s a relief.”
“It still doesn’t  quite  justify ruining the Dining Hall for everyone else,
though,” Dommi pointed out, cradling Ana in her arms. “Also thank you for
turning me into the Lena of the Headquarters while you’re gone. I lack the
paranoia and the arrogance for it but I hope I can do the job well.”
“You will,” Frodo smiled, knowing better than to let whatever Lena was going to
reply with bubble to the surface. The blonde rolled her eyes, cleaning the rest
of the mess with a few waves of her wand. “I think that as long as no one dies
in our absence, you’re doing fine.”
“Shame that you only have Prentiss for company, though,” Rhys said sourly.
Lena frowned, “Come on, Rhys. Chuck is a self-absorbed, selfish, stupidass, but
he’s not a horrible person by any means. Just, you know… annoying.”
A light flush had appeared on Dommi’s cheeks, and that pretty much confirmed
everything that Frodo had heard while he was on patrol in the corridor last
night. He was honestly amused that the two of them got their act together so
quickly, but there was nothing that forced isolation couldn’t do, and it wasn’t
like they were working with nothing to begin with.
The brunet continued to watch the crowd below, noticing that the four young
adults he had considered his children now duelling each other in unusual pairs:
Ellie with Ashley and Vanka with Nick. He knew that they had picked up such a
habit from their parents, though there was no denying the chemistry between
Ellie and Vanka was perfect. It was the same way that the married couples
within the Seven Devils worked best but they all worked well together,
particularly Lena with Anya and Lora with Kait. The Interrogation Specialist
thought that perhaps it had to do with the bonding performed in their marriage
ceremonies, but it did not explain the two women below him.
Strange.
Lena was busy trying to get the six of them together for an announcement, and
Frodo knew better than to cause her any delay. He went up to stand among his
friends, and once she had acknowledged him, she nodded before turning back to
the crowd ahead of her.
The blonde cleared her throat, and the crowd spun forward to listen. There was
no need to magnify her voice with a charm; she had designed the hall so that
the acoustics would do all the work for her.
She took a deep breath and began.
“We are gathered here today to participate in a battle that has been four years
in the running. I know that some of you feel like we’re not ready” – she glared
at Kait here, who only shrugged her shoulders – “but we have been at a
stalemate for years. It has been a year since we claimed any new territory and
I’m afraid that the world will stay this way: us in the West and them in the
East.
“But we know from the Cold War the Muggles had in the twentieth century that
it’s an unstable arrangement. Things don’t  like  to stay apart. Things like to
diffuse, to spread out. When particles diffuse, there’s an increase in entropy,
and the universe  likes  this. Loves it. Why else do you think that we are so
drawn to chaos, to war, to defiance?
“Don’t you dare deny this: if so, then think about why you are here. If you
aren’t, you could have chosen the safe thing and that is to remain neutral. But
no. Most of you are here  willingly,  to fight for the equality of Muggleborns
and purebloods. Many of us are spying or training for the final battle,
isolating us from friends and family. Some of us are using our pureblood
privilege to change the minds of millions with Muggle science.” Lora smiled
fondly here at the blonde, and she continued to speak.
“The point of us taking charge and going to battle is not to win the war. We’re
not fighting to kill Daggerbutt. We’re not ready to do that. We are fighting
because we want to show the Dark Army that we are  not  backing down, we are
not  giving up, that we are  passionate  and  genuinely committed  to our cause
the same way they are to theirs. We want to show that even if they have more
people at their charge, we have more spirit in our hearts than they have in
their whole bodies. That we do not stand for the oppression of people simply
for their blood. That we are ready to lay down our lives so that the
generations after us will realise blood doesn’t matter. It never has and it
never will.
“Maybe we will accomplish something with this battle. Maybe we may find our
opportunity to rise above the prejudice that has lead us to the ruin of our
beloved continent. We will not fight them because of their beliefs – everyone
is entitled to that – but rather, what they have done  because  of them. They
are using prejudice to justify the death of countless innocent people. Many of
us might not  completely  agree on creature rights but we  know  that murdering
them simply because of it is wrong. Why? Well, we have hearts and minds and
know that two plus two equals four. Yes, even you Prentiss.”
There were a couple of laughs there.
“We have wasted enough time dawdling. I suggest you all get some rest. The
Portkey in your backpacks will activate at oh-six hundred, and you will land in
a forest in the south of Denmark. The boat to Helsinki will be waiting for us
at twelve hundred, four days from now at Copenhagen. If you miss it, please
stay with our friends at Copenhagen. They will be waiting at the port and keep
you safe until the leaders based in Berlin and Paris send you home.
“Any questions?”
There were a few, and once Lena had answered them they were dismissed.
As he and Kait returned to their room, Frodo kept thinking about his friend’s
speech. Something about the battle made him uneasy, as if he knew that
something was going to change.
***** 3A - October 2080 + Flashback *****
Chapter Notes
     i actually have all the way up to 4b written i'm just lazy to post
     them
October 6th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Meeting Room #5
If Lena ever had to call herself out on one of the worst ideas in the universe,
this would probably top the list. And this came from someone who was friends
with Kaitlen Grayson.  
Charles was sitting in the Meeting Room, analysing the strategy that she had on
the chalkboard before her. Sure he was no Dylan, and where the scientist could
see how the puzzle pieces could fit together, the conman was good at seeing how
everything didn’t or couldn’t or wouldn’t. The blonde remembered his father
well – having killed him herself, of course – and though Charles would never
wish himself the problem of being his duplicate, they definitely share some
traits.
“Are yousure you want to let Ivanka fight Donnica Lestrange again?” he asked
her.
“I’m quite sure, Charles,” Lena replied.  
“Then your plan is flawed,” the former Hitrost replied, staring at the board
again. “You said that in Paris, Ivanka got beaten out by what you believed was
a combination of Tarantallegra and Impedimenta that Donnica had cast?”
She nodded.
“I understand that Vanka has some sort of… grudge against her, but this would
be an unwise move. Like the rest of the Lestranges, Donnica has a strong
offense though she does lack the polish her parents and brother has. ” Lena
raised her eyebrows. “Don’t act so shocked, Vorstenbach. Youdo realise that I
have duelled her once or twice to prove my usefulness to the Dark Lord, right?”
“And you do know that Vanka has been increasing the power of her defences to
counter her strong attacks with the Queen of Defence Shields herself? I think
she can handle that little witch.”
“We both know she can, but the whole point of this battle is to take Helsinki,
not prove to the whole world how wonderful your daughter is.” Lena’s lips
parted as if to say something else, and thankfully Charles knew better than to
ask. “I think it would be more suitable for Ivanka to fightJarlan, but only
after he’s had someone to weaken him.”
“There’s a reason I put him up against Dommi, Chuck.”
“I wasn’t talking about her.” He moved one dot from one side of the
battlefield, swapping it with another. “I’m talking abouther.”
Lena’s jaw dropped.“Ellie,Chuck? You can’t be serious. She has great defensive
shields which I’m starting to think is a Wagner trait, but Ellie can’t just use
Protego every time Jarlan comes at her – ”
“And she won’t. Stop underestimating her. I’ve finally met her and she’s
smarter than you think.” Lena raised an eyebrow and Charles snorted. “How else
could you explain the fact that she and Ivanka work together so well if she
wasn’t?”
Exhaling, Lena replied, “Fair enough. Now what do you think of my idea of
attacking the Parliament in waves?”
That was how they spoke for the next three hours. Lena pointed out an area of
strategy that she knew was a weak one, and Charles’s insight into the Dark Army
made it easy for him to counter her with weaknesses. Once he approved for
something and thought it required no change, he’d nod and point something else
out for them to sort out.
About two hours into their discussion, Charles managed to outline the strategy
he thought Donnica and Jarlan would use once they joined the fray based on his
previous experiences. He warned her that the mess the Dark Soldiers tended to
be disappeared as soon as the Lestrange children took the reins. It was a
wonder that the man was still alive by the end of all this – though it could
just as well be because he was never part of the Dark Lord’s inner circle.
“I’m not saying that’s what’s going to happen,” the former Hitrost said,
finally pausing for breath, “but I did my share of fighting in Paris, in
Berlin, in Stockholm. You can’t see it because you’re on the front lines, but
there’s a pattern in how they fight. There’s a pattern in how you fight too. I
know what you’re thinking: you’re scared that one or more of your people are
gonna rat you out. They will. But they won’t know these changes – the ones we
devised together. And this is why you’re going to win.”
“That’s a lot of faith in the enemy, Chuck.”
“That’s because if the enemy wins, we don’t have to hide anymore.” He looked
away from her, and there were no guesses as towho the we included.
“If you love this girl, then why are you chasing after another?”
“Because I need to move on,” the brunet said wanly, “and realising that you
have a problem means that you’re halfway there, or something like that.”
“You do know that if you break her heart, I’ll break your body tenfold, right?”
“I’m quite aware. You threw knives at me when I broke her heart the first
time.”
“Oh yeah.” Lena smirked, thinking back to those simpler days. His frightened
face as she locked them up in the Weaponry classroom was now a gauge to see if
she terrified a person enough. “We both know that I’m capable of much worse
things now, if you already haven’t seen me in battle already.”
“Difficult not to pay attention to you when you’re the best Illusionist in the
world.”
Her smirk immediately faded. “You mean there are others?”
“That, I don’t know. The chances of being any other are small because it’s a
recessive gene, but your family runs deep with the other pureblood families.
I’m surprised there hasn’t been more Illusionists.”
“Well, the Vorstenbachs would rather get rid of it, considering it’s a very
confusing mutation of the Metamorphmagus gene. Before my grandmother, no one
could quite control their abilities so people thought it was something to be
afraid of. I mean, it is but – ”
“I get it.” Charles gave his best friend a small smile. “Who knows about your
abilities?”
“Just the Seven Devils, you and Vanka. I didn’t think I should tell anyone
else.”
“And you shouldn’t. It would be unwise for you to.” He then sat squarely in
front of her. “Since we obviously have nothing else to discuss, I think this is
the part of the meeting that you Obliviate me, just as we promised.”
“Okay,” she said, pointing her wand at his forehead. “Obliviate.”
===============================================================================
 
October 20th, Year 20: Baltic Sea
There were few times that Lena thanked herself for being a rich pureblood, but
this was gladly one of them. The complex of flats that had belonged to her
parents in Alppila was now put to good use, thanks to Topias Kuurinen and the
other Finnish students she had met in Durmstrang. They converted it into proper
headquarters soon after the war began in Russia. Only accessible by tapping a
specific rhythm, it was pretty secure, since said rhythm was the first line of
Maamme, and not many knew it.
It had been days since her feet touched soil that did not move beneath her,
constantly sailing off into the horizon. Sometimes she would roam onto the
upper deck, having a chat with Jurgen Aigner, who she had not seen in years.
They spoke about the days where their biggest concern was trying to break off
Fabian’s betrothal to Magda so he could marry Leonora, how small the Copenhagen
base was, and how Lena was surprised he participated in any form of activism at
all.
“Simple,” Jurgen had replied, “the Dark Army killed my family. You find that
without something to fall back on, your priorities start to change.”
According to him, they were scheduled to arrive in the Helsinki’s port in two
or three days. From there, they would be transported in trucks to the
Headquarters. When asked for the finer details, Jurgen had kept quiet on it,
saying that he will only alert the others to be ready when the time was right,
even when he needed to guide two hundred people how to do it.
The blonde spent her time in the lower deck playing some games of Exploding
Snap with Kait, wondering how Ana, Chuck and Dommi were doing back in their
Headquarters, and trying to focus on the real reason she had wanted to stage
this battle in the first place.
It had never been about practice. For a war, there was never such a thing.
Practice in war doesn’t mean perfect: it means effectiveness and a small number
of casualties – which was never truly possible. If the blonde was going to be
honest, she expected those to come home out of their original two hundred to be
about fifty, counting all six of her Devils, and that was being
extremelyoptimistic. 
No. The true intention of this whole battle – which took months of
orchestrating and planning and thinking – was to know that if her paranoia that
had been built up for the last several years was justified. She hoped to Merlin
that it wasn’t, but there was a particular reason that she had always trusted
herself so fully, and others so little.
There was a mole in our ranks.
She knew that it had to be why they had suffered such great losses in Paris
when their strategy had been rock solid. She knew that if she was right, the
same would happen in Helsinki, and she would have led people – herpeople – to
their deaths. All so that she could stop fighting herself and the rest of the
world.
So the world could stop fighting too. 
At dinner, Lena found herself wanting to melt into her husband’s lanky frame,
barely picking up the food that was served. Her cheek rested on his shoulder as
her fingers fiddled with the fork. Her husband merely held her as he brushed
her hair out of her face, gently poking a spoonful of stew into her mouth until
she would eat it, spoonful by spoonful.
They returned to their cot that night still touching each other: Rhys lying on
his back, his arm outstretched below Lena’s neck. Her arm was wrapped around
his torso, her right leg swung around his hip, and her head was still on his
shoulder. She was still silent, staring up at the empty ceiling.
She began to speak. “Have you ever felt really guilty to the point where you
wanted to throw up, cry for a bit, and then just forget the world
indefinitely?”
“Every time I remember that I left you for sixteen years, Lena.” He bent down
to kiss her forehead. “But then I remembered I would be leaving you again, and
that’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Same here,” she replied. She then asked her husband if there were appropriate
Silencing Charms on their cot, and began to talk when he answered in the
affirmative. “Do you think that… that all the fightingwe’re doing now, all of
this anger and death and violence, do you think that it might turn out alright
in the end?”
“I can’t say,” Rhys replied, adjusting to his side so he could see her face.
“But I know that I won’t mind any future as long as you’re by my side.”
Lena smiled, thinking the answer satisfactory for now, and she leaned in to
peck him on the lips. He smiled back at her, letting her stay silent.
That was one of her favourite things about Rhys. He hated it when she kept
secrets from him, and vice versa, but he had always let her bide her time and
spill everything when she was ready. The urgency was higher in the height of
war, that was sure, but she neededsomeone who was patient and kind and
ultimately betterthan she was socially to balance the constant battle she had
in her skull. 
It was to her shame that she hadn’t treated Dommi well ever since she held Rhys
in a coma for sixteen years in Vita Recta. On one hand, she could understand
the woman’s concern – having Alex at barely seventeen had cut her whimsies in
half – and if her husband was kept anywhere else, she would have positively
flipped.
His scent lingered in her nostrils as she spoke. “Even if that future was with
someone who led hundreds of people to war merely to prove a point, if so
proven, could probably save the lives of countless others?”
“Yes, even that one.” 
The blonde grinned, kissing him again. She let the kiss continue, letting her
hands roam all over Rhys’s back, gripping the hem of his shirt once she got to
his waist. His tongue came into contact with hers, and she moaned softly in
approval, tugging at his shirt. 
In a split second, Lena was on her back. She gazed hungrily at the ginger, who
was now half naked, and quickly on the way to making her the same way, her
shirt already on the ground. She giggled when he struggled with her bra clasp,
something his transformation from school klutz to prima ballerina couldn’t
quite fix.
“Why do you wear these things anyway?” he asked, sitting back on the bed
between her legs.
She sat up and undid it herself, letting the piece of clothing fall onto the
ground. “Because they help keep my boobs up. Hold on a second.” She found her
war on the bedside table, pointed to her abdomen, and muttered the
Contraceptive Charm. Warmth spread to her groin, signalling that it had taken
effect.
“Are you ready?” Rhys asked. 
Lena grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him down onto the bed with her, her
legs wrapped around his hips. Her hands were quickly unfastening the buttons on
his shirt, and watching him shrug it off made her smirk. “Oh yes.”
===============================================================================
November 11th, Year -3: The Black Swan, Port Durmstrang
Charles had saved up most of his month’s allowance in order to be sure that he
could afford the most expensive of food here. He’d gotten some extra winnings
when he won the numerous bets against him acquiring a date with the hard-to-get
Dommi Wagner, which was the cause of twenty extra Galleons in his pocket.
Unlike his peers, Charles was raised not to read books, but people. So to him,
his date was an incredibly easy person to read.  
When she had shown up in the Entrance Hall, dressed in an elegant cocktail
dress that brushed her knees, made her palm-sized breasts look flattering, and
with a face caked with make-up. It was also obvious from her earlier days at
Durmstrang that she straightened her hair more often the older she got, and the
Hitrost could only think of the inconvenience her natural hair caused her in
the mornings to be the lone sensible reason for doing so.  
“Are you ready, Chuck?” she asked, gently fluttering her lashes.
The action made him want to laugh, but he couldn’t say that to a fragile
sixteen-year-old. “Yeah, Dom. Let’s go.”
Getting the table at The Black Swan required a favour from a kind family member
who worked there, and Charles had even pulled enough strings for him to be his
waiter on the day as well. That meant that not only would he not be carded, the
boy could get some proper wine with his meal, not the Butterbeer that would
only go with the hearty British meals he’d rather have at home.  
When she entered the restaurant, Dommi looked awestruck. Her eyes wandered
across the tall Grecian pillars with honour, oohing and aahing appropriately at
the numerous paintings of Cupid and constellations Charles had learned about in
his Astronomy lessons in his exchange year. Though the walls had an emphasis on
black, it did not look macabre, managing to pull of an air of elegance that
translated through the entire interior of the restaurant.  
Laurence Prentiss – a staunch supporter of Muggleborn rights – smiled lovingly
at his half-cousin and his date. “On time for once, Chuck E. Cheese?” he asked,
gazing at the clock. “Come. I’ll show you to your table.”
Dommi was still amazed, eyes widening at the elaborate arrangement of cutlery
laid out on the table. “I’m sorry to ask, but how do I know which one to eat
something with? I’m really sorry. I’ve never dined at a fine restaurant
before.”
“That’s fine,” Laurence replied, glancing at his cousin with mirth in his eyes
before returning his attention on his date. “Start from the outside and go
inwards. If you can’t remember that I’m sureChuck here would be glad to remind
you.”
“Thank you so much, um – “  
“Laurence.” He smiled at the girl and she giggled. “Would you like to have the
chef’s special or something else?” Dommi was about to open her mouth but
Laurence continued before she could speak. “Charles here already mentioned that
you’re allergic to shellfish.”
Charles shrugged his shoulders, his face turning a pale shade of red. His date
giggled, thanking him profusely.  
The rest of their meal was arguably one of the best one Charles ever had in his
life. The girl was a bit puzzled and overwhelmed by everything, but she kept
the topics conversational and light, straying away from his family but talking
non-stop about hers. She loved her brother – Kieran, after the Irish saint –
and helping her Muggle parents in the café during summers. She liked romantic
comedies and cares more for her friends than a sixteen-year-old girl should.
Her eyes gleamed of wild dreams and movie scenes adapted and shuffled to fit in
with today’s narrative.
She found him genuinely funny, and kissed him after they left the restaurant.
Her lips were warm and soft andlight. He swept her off her feet and his heart
burned at how he didn’t reciprocate the emotion.
Their walk back to Durmstrang was quiet, his arm wrapped around her shoulders
to protect her from the infamous November chill. They continued to share the
occasional glance, her eyes dutifully trained on his. Halfway back to the
castle, Charles swore he heard the echo of footsteps in the alley, clutching
the raven-haired Slushatel close to him.
True to his suspicions, a blonde figure came out of the shadows, wand in hand.
Chuck didn’t recognise her, pushing Dommi behind him. He brought his own wand
out, quivering as he saw that the blonde was arguablytaller than he was, and
probably better at duelling too. 
“Sothis is who you decided to bring along tonight?” she asked, her high-pitched
voice oozing the mockery that Charles had long since learned to ignore. “Little
Miss Sunshine? Liddy would feel sodisappointed if she knew that all she had to
do to gain your full attention was to reduce herself to a stupid, gigglybrat.” 
The Hitrost blanched, telling his date to run away. She did, carefully making
her way to a building at the edge of the street. Chuck could see her face peer
out from behind it, and once he knew she was safe, he continued to face the
blonde. “How do you know Liddy? And who are you?”
Cackling, the blonde was close enough to Charles so that he could see what lay
beyond her eyes. It was something he knew all too well from his childhood, from
remembering what his father did to a young eight-year-old, from remembering how
he used to cry himself to sleep when he was at home.  
Pure hatred.
“Youstill haven’t figured it out, now haven’t you?” Her wand was immediately
pointed to his chest. Charles staggered back, but she kept walking towards him.
“You stupid, STUPID boy!”
That was when he bolted towards the castle, the blonde still on her tail. Wand
still trained on his, she yelled, “Expelliarmus!” The cry became something that
was repeated over and over again, and it was on the third or fourth try that
Charles managed to get hit by the spell, his wand tumbling out of his hand.
Despite the fact that her opponent was wandless, the blonde continued to fire
spells at him. The Hitrost managed to reclaim his wand, yelling spells that he
knew did no good against her, but distracting him long enough so he could grab
Dommi and run.
They both ran and ran and ran uphill back to Durmstrang, only to find halfway
through that they were no longer being attacked. Gripping his date’s wrist like
a vice, Charles turned around only to see the same blonde crying, her wand on
the ground. Her brown eyes met his, and they seemed warm andfamiliar to him
somewhat, though he could not place it.
“I – I’m so sorry,” she said, picking up her wand and running towards the Port.
***** 3B: October 2080 *****
Chapter Summary
     Helsinki was strong, she thought. It can rebuild.
Chapter Notes
     i lost all my notes!!! brilliant!!!
     (also i'm up until chapter 4d)
     explicit, relatively plot-free first scene. to skip, go to the next
     horizontal line.
October 14 th , Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
As most of the legal witches and wizards had gone to aid the fight in Helsinki,
that left Dommi and Charles in charge of the children in the Headquarters.
Since he never had to raise his own child, the conman found the influx of
responsibility to be confusing,for lack of a better word.
He and Dommi managed to have some time alone at lunch. The youngest children
were with Grandpa Afonin and Grandma Ilyina – the two oldest people in the
Headquarters – and all the elder children were still at school, so they were
both quite sure that everyone was safe.
There was an old television set from the 2010s with a complete set of films to
choose from. With Wizarding and Muggle movie production having stopped in the
mid ‘50s in favour of the interactive plays that dominated Light Europe, they
were looking at things that were truly out of fashion. Within minutes, Dommi
was up to her knees in discs, trying to pick one that matched her tastes. She
eventually picked one called Ghostbusters.
Halfway through the movie, Charles began to yawn. Dommi scowled when he did,
throwing a pillow in his face. “That was very, very rude of you,” she said,
crossing her arms. Not once did her eyes deviate from the screen. It made
Charles smile.
“I’m just yawning,”the former Hitrost whispered, “it wasn’t like I straight out
fell asleep in the middle of the movie.
“And now you’re talking,Chuck,” she hissed, pressing her finger in front of her
lips. Once there was silence except for the screen ahead of them, she rested
her head on his shoulder, his arm around hers.
When the movie was done, the two of them quickly relocated to Room 5. The
moment they entered, he’d pinned her up against the wall. His hands were in her
hair, and her legs were tightly gripping his waist as her crossed ankles
functioned as a vice. She moaned as his lips began trailing down her neck, her
hands clumsily, tightly gripping his back, nails digging into his flesh.
His hands quickly grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it off her body with
rusty yet practiced hands. Her hands removed themselves from his back,
trembling as they tried to unbutton his shirt. He shrugged the fabric off with
ease, and the petite woman had already begun to unbuckle his belt once his
chest was fully bare.
Temporarily distracted from her activity, Dommi traced his chest, like every
time they fucked. Unlike some others, he had remained relatively scar free – if
only due to his reluctance to fight. Her tanned torso too was a blank canvas,
though he could still see the stretch marks and stitches that came with
pregnancy and a C section. He ran his hands over them, kissing each and every
one of them in a clichéd attempt to worship her.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
The raven-haired woman smiled. “Do you really think that?”
The former Hitrost realised then that he had said it out loud. He hummed in
agreement, his mouth latching onto a nipple. His tongue did three broad strokes
over the taut bud before he spoke again. “And I’m quite happy to remind you of
it too.”
He continued to experiment with her breasts, rolling one peak between his thumb
and his index finger, still ravishing the other with his mouth. There was a
clatter of metal on the ground before his cock suddenly felt cold. The sudden
change in temperature was soon forgotten when a hand was wrapped around his
hard length, stroking it with the heel of her hand in languid strokes.
“Bed, please,” Dommi pleaded, voice heavy with need.
Chuck was always a sucker for the magic word. His hand still wrapped around
Dommi’s waist, she squealed when he spun swiftly, landing her body on the bed
as gentle as a feather. She sighed in contentment as the soft mattress sunk
around her, tilting her chin upwards to kiss him. After stripping the lower
half of their bodies bare, her legs immediately wrapped around his waist,
pulling him closer. He smirked at the action, bending down to plant a garden of
kisses along her inner thighs. She continued to tug at him, mewling.
“Eager, aren’t you?” Charles said, inhaling the scent of her sex. “You’ll get
your reward, Liebechen,but I want to play first.”
He heard her gasp when his tongue came into contact with her lips, his eyes
looking upward for consent. She nodded curtly, and he gently pried them apart
enough. His tongue gently swiped upward all the way from her slit to her clit,
and she groaned at the contact. He did the same thing for several strokes, the
speed increasing as he continued. When the heaving of her chests became more
pronounced, he plunged two fingers into her, humming at the sensation. He
repeated the action of his tongue with his finger, and she was almost screaming
with pleasure.
“Chuck, I want you.”
“Hmm? What was that?” His fingers twitched.
She gasped. “I – want – you – please.”
Without much hesitation, Charles positioned his cock at her entrance, and
moaned at the familiar feeling of those soft, silky walls: the only reason
anyone ever had sex to begin with. He began moving slowly at first, the sound
of their skin slapping heightening their arousal.
“ – please, more – “
“ – fuck,Dom – “
“ – harder,  please – “
Russet eyes met honey coloured ones. Dommi asked him, “Do you love me, Chuck?”
He stopped mid-thrust. “I think it’s a bit too early to say,” he said, “but I
think I’m getting there.”
She exhaled. “That’s enough for me.”
He covered her mouth with his own, his hips reclaiming the rhythm they had
fought hard to gain. His pleasure grew as her moans grew louder. In that
moment, where nothing but making them come mattered, Charles thought that
perhaps yes, he did love Dommi O’Malley again.
The thought had barely sunk into him when he felt it. The euphoria that came
with this orgasm was dimmer than what he expected – he’d seen stars, once – but
it was still fulfilling. A guttural groan left his lips, his hips still bucking
into her, and her cry signalling orgasm on her end came soon after.
They spent the next several hours on her bed – their bed – alternating between
napping and observing each other. The only time Charles left the bed before
dinner was to pick the teenagers from school in the disguise of his best
friend’s ginger husband. He feigned interest in the several duels that seemed
to be abundant in Docentrebis, knowing that with enough luck these kids too
would know bloodshed in its final form.
===============================================================================
 October 13th, Year 20: 16ème arrondissement, Paris, France
Perhaps it was the influence of the Light or lack thereof, but Paris was just
as busy as Dylan remembered. Having visited the city on numerous occasions in
his Exchange Year, he had no problems navigating the city on his own. While
Taden was slightly discouraged from going outside, the scientist had no problem
going downstairs and buying un café, avec de sucre s’il vous plait every couple
of hours, though he did wish Lora was here.
The absence of his wife stung Dylan, and the more he felt it, the more he
smoked. Jakob’s long-term relationship (if it could be called such) with
Beauxbatons professor Dewi Sampoerna pretty much ensured that he would receive
a lifelong supply of the stuff, despite the fact that it was illegal in most
places in the world. Though he missed the voice of his wife chiding him for
taking up such a deadly habit, he found that voice slowly slipping away the
more cigs he smoked.
That was terrifying.
Thankfully, the publishing house wasn’t far from where they lived. Most of the
building was underground, taking up residence in the former Métro stops of
Courcelles and Monceau. Taden quickly adjusted to the long hours of work, and
Dylan often found him taking photos of the publishing process and gluing them
to the pages of the scrapbook he was yearning to give to his wife.
This afternoon, he, Jakob and Julian was sitting outside on the balcony,
watching the hordes of people below them as he and Jakob shared a cigarette.
Inside the house, Taden too had the afternoon off and was talking awkwardly
with the Rousseau children without mentioning his wife too often.
Dylan understood his pain too well.
“How are things at your end?” Jakob asked, “it’s been awhile since any of us
has gotten an update.”
“Some people are thinking that you’re having a peacefulmoment,” Julian
sniggered. “But we both know that peace doesn’t exist in war. Or life in
general.”
“I agree,” Dylan replied, “the Light Queen had a baby a month ago and is going
to battle in a couple of weeks. That’s war right there.”
Jakob raised an eyebrow. “A true Vorstenbach, Lena is,” he remarked. The
Scientist knew that Lena’s father had begged him to marry her sister Heidi, but
he had turned it down. He placed the cigarette between his lips, dragging it
out for as long as he could. He then passed it on to Dylan. “And the baby? Is
he or she okay?”
“Ana is under Dommi’s care. She’ll live.”
The Frenchman nodded, stirring the coffee that he’d put in stasis. He smiled as
he found how warm it was. “It’s a bit unfortunate that you’re here instead of
getting all the fun in Finland. I heard Finnish girls are pretty.”
“What?” Dylan asked, “and miss out on your pretty face? Of course not.”
Taden and the younger Rousseau – the name of whom Dylan could never remember –
decided to join them on the balcony. In his hand, the younger blond clutched a
bottle of Edmunds vodka close to his chest, taking a sip of it when his eyes
came to contact with his mentor.
“I’ve never seen that before,” Jakob commented, amused. He turned to his
friend, “And you said I’ve had a sample of every spirit this side of the
Danube, Dyl.”
“It’s not the best tasting one,” Alaina said, “though it is quite impressive
what one person can come up with all on their own.”
Julian raised an eyebrow at his daughter, while Jakob merely smirked. “Rumour
has it the person who invented it used her own tears as part of the drink for
she brewed it in a time of immense grief.”
“Ugh, gross.” Alaina grimaced, “Don’t worry, Papa. It tasted horrible. I don’t
want to be near this stuff again.”
“I don’t blame you,” Taden smiled. He began unscrewing the cap and taking a
sip. “It’s… an acquired taste. Alex used to sneak these out of the distillery
because it was the only booze they had in Headquarters. We’d get sloshed:
Vanka, me, Ellie and him.” His smile grew grave. “It reminds me of home.”
Dylan didn’t think the young man realised that he had switched to Russian.
“He’s homesick,” he translated, his flawless French hiding his empathy for the
young man, “which is understandable.” He took another drag of the cigarette. “I
heard that you’re going to publish our pamphlets soon, Julian.”
“Might as well,” the Frenchman replied, “we shouldn’t make your stay any longer
than it has to be. We hope that it will be just the news we need to shatter
Russian support for the Dark Army.”
Taden said feebly, “I hope so, or all this would’ve been for nothing.”
Dylan knew why.
“Too bad they don’t have much more on the scientific method in Wizarding
schools,” Alaina added, “I mean they have something,but it’s something confined
to those that are taking a Mastery.” She sighed. “What a shame. Maybe we
could’ve wiped out blood supremacy by now if we knew what it was before we were
twenty.”
“Most of these beliefs start when the children are as young as three,” Jakob
replied, “so I’m afraid it would be a bit of a moot point to start at eleven.”
“Good point,” she bristled, “but if you’re going to go all out on these
pamphlet things, I think you should give a talk in Beauxbatons. There are more
Muggleborns there than not and I think they’d be happy to know that there’s a
chance that they can do something good in the world despite what’s happening in
the East.”
“That’s a great idea!” Taden grinned, somehow joyful enough to slip back into
broken French again, “we need more scientists anyway, don’t we, Dylan?”
The Head Scientist gave a small smile. “Yes, yes we do.”
===============================================================================
04.50 October 30 th , Year 20: Linnanmäki Park, Helsinki, Uusimaa, Finland
Lena had been in the city for a week. The Finnish capital was a far cry from
the holiday spot she and her family had frequented in her schooldays. The park
had now grown to be a desolate spot, cobwebs visible at every turn. Ghosts of
summers past clung to every corner: the screams from the gondola ride, the old
Haloo Helsinki song that she always played only because of the name, how she
held her brother’s hand every time they came near a loop-de-loop.
On her right, the Bellamys were having a lively conversation in Chinese.
Despite the facade of dignity and certainty, she could easily discern their
stony faced insecurity. She’d known Luke and Chara since they were at school,
and their immense loyalty to the cause meant that they couldn’t do much to fool
her. The former Uchitel ran off their names in her head: it was the one thing
they asked for when they joined the cause, for these names to be immortalised.
Zhi Wei. Xing Cai. Cai Liang. Cai Xiu.
On her left, three of the Seven Devils were getting ready with their supplies.
Rhys and Kaitlen’s presences were not required until later, leaving them safe
to nap for a little bit longer in their tent. In charge of the first wave of
explosions, Anya was frowning at the grenades she held in her hand, trying to
remember which one went first. Frodo and Lora had their vials of Pepper Up
Potion ready, choosing to spend their time listing all of the battles that led
them up to this point.
There was something about seeing all of the children that she had a hand in
raising with wands in their sleeves, faces painted red as blood, green as
leaves, blue as sky. The feelings were nothing compared to Paris – they had all
taken lives by now, so they were no longer children, perhaps – but they were
still there,her heart growing heavy.
She turned away. The clock struck five.
There was no final speech like she had done in Paris. Only a nod of her head
and a glance into the city centre did the trick.
No time seemed to pass when Anya hurled the grenades in the general direction
of the train tracks. The sky, still dark, began to fade to a kaleidoscope of
red and green and blue and back again as the grenades detonated, shattering the
city like thunder. The wind began to pick up speed, thanks to Lora and Frodo’s
wind charms. The rainbow of colour began to move with serpentine grace towards
the Parliament House, where she knew several Dark Soldiers were on their watch.
Thanks to Yusikova’s owl, she knew that none of the heavyweights would be in
Helsinki tonight, and the woman even managed to station herself at the
Parliament. Said heavyweights were the Sicarius brothers and Aleron Lestrange,
and Charles had told her to create some damage before they had time to send
Patronuses to Russia and send them in.
At Anya’s command, Ineesa and Ashley, concealed in the wind, began attacking
the wards of the House. Their efforts were almost in vain when Yusikova sliced
her thumb and a drop of blood fell on the perimeter of the building. It was
with ease that the two young women disappeared inside.
Frodo and Lora’s wind charms were magnificent. The coloured powder was slowly
becoming a tornado of wonder as it enveloped the Soldiers. Lora grinned at
their combined creation while Frodo was firing off Killing Curses at some
particularly petulantSoldiers, his wand arm moving as smoothly as the weather
phenomenon near to him. With enough luck, there would be no more for a while as
they let their creation develop a mind of its own.
Still in Linnanmäki, Lena had perched herself on a particularly large tree,
giving her a decent vantage point of the city. Some of the buildings were
already beginning to crumble as her Light Army began to duel. She saw jets of
red, darts of green, Vanka’s signature Reducto in the distance crumbling every
single pillar or foundation it could get its hands on.
Helsinki was strong, she thought. It can rebuild.
Right on cue, the home team made their move. A growing, thundering chant of
‘Suomi!’ washed over the silent night like a tsunami. The sound of the first
cannon ripped through the sky. The pace of Lena’s heartbeat began to spike as
she saw exactly where she was headed, but when she saw two heads of blue hair
run out of the building, it slowed considerably.
Eduskuntatalowas now a pile of rubble, a cradle for a ball of cement.
It was with bittersweet emotions that Lena watched the world stop before her.
Most of the Dark Soldiers turned around to see their base gone, and now they
had nowhere to run for cover. During their temporary halt in judgment, Lora and
Frodo had let the hurricane go free for the whole world to bend to its will.
Then it turned to dust.
 
***** 3C: October 2080 *****
Chapter Summary
     Elizabeta O’Malley would be damned before she let anyone feel as
     helpless as she did.
Chapter Notes
     HAPPY BIRTHDAY, REV! the rest of Chapter 3 is made available to you
     and the public for your reading pleasure. thank you endlessly for
     putting up with me and my bullshit, and i am eternally grateful.
     - your girlfriend, rora
06.40 October 30th, Year 20: Helsinki, Uusimaa, Finland
The sunrise was still an hour away, and already the battle was going to shit.
Vanka knew that the moment the tornado disintegrated, starting a rain of powder
that stung her eyes. From what little visibility she did have, she managed to
transfigure a dead Soldier’s sash into a pair of sunglasses.
Now that her eyes were reasonably protected, she decided to come closer to
where the tornado had been. The ash that had once towered over them and held
the attention of hundreds of soldiers was now a decaying pile on the ground,
receding as the breeze blew them away like cherry blossoms in spring. Two
figures stood atop the ash: one with raging flames and the other with an
iciness that never failed to send shivers down her spine.
Jarlan and Donnica Lestrange.
Fuck , she thought.  There was no way they could have gotten word about this
quickly. Not unless –
Loyalties were rubber in war. She knew that. The only goal most people had was
to come out alive and preferably unscathed. That was why they had spies all
over the Dark Army to help them out. Of course there were spies hanging all
over the Light – she wasn’t so thick as to dispute that – but one high enough
to have possibly known about the tornado attack?
She swallowed her worries as she tried to make her way towards Alex. Within
several steps, a Dark Soldier ambushed her. She quickly Stunned him and reduced
him to ash with a silent Reducto.
Vanka had to sidestep a few duels in order to get to her intended partner, who
had his hands full with three Dark Soldiers. She cast an Incarcerous on one of
them, immediately grabbing the attention of one of the others so that he was
free to duel with the last one on his own.
The other one was a tougher match, and one Vanka was glad to have. He lacked
the ability to cast a non-verbal, since he just kept yelling his spells, and
the blonde used that to her advantage, trying her best to keep her lips still.
Her shields blocked his fearsome attacks with ease. She disarmed him, ensuring
that his wand flew too far to run back to them, and ran to join her ex.
“Took you a while to get here,” he said, barely taking his eyes off his
opponent.
Vanka rolled her eyes. Alex was not her Tandem partner, but they still worked
effectively. She removed a revolver out of her pocket and aimed it at the man’s
foot. It hit him and he screamed: a sound the blonde began to relish as she put
the gun back in its sheath. She smirked at him before turning to her friend,
staring at her wide-eyed.
“Lena said you could only shoot during emergencies.  Emergencies!”
“I think that saving your crusty ass definitely counts as one, Alex.” She
patted his shoulders, positioning her body to an Orthodox stance when she saw
Soldiers heading in their direction.
“No time, love.” Her wand was poised and ready for battle. “We’ve got some
bastards to kill.”
===============================================================================
 
07.00
Rhys cursed himself for letting Lena convince him to sleep in. He woke to find
that news of the battle had  somehow  spread to Moscow fast enough for the
Lestrange children to be sent here.
He knew that Lena was expecting their attack to be intercepted. He knew that
she knew that they were going to be grossly outnumbered. He also knew that she
knew that for once, she was going to lie low during the battle, pretend she
wasn’t there and hope nobody on the wrong side found out.
Dammit Le.
He and Kait were trying to find Frodo and Lora. It was a wonder that they
managed to run for cover before the Lestrange children appeared at all, but the
woman had always been reasonably quick – or at least quicker than Le is.
Two heads of blue hair danced their way into the forefront of his sight. Next
to him, Kait heaved a sigh of relief. He could not bear to do the same until he
found his friends alive and to live until the end of this battle with his wife
in his arms, alive and kicking.
“Where the fuck could they have  gone?”  the brunette next to him hissed.
“Nick’s with Ellie, Le’s hiding, and – “
The unmistakable figure of Darke Krüger materialised out of thin air before
them. Kaitlen cursed, and the two immediately began firing spells at each
other. Thankfully, Rhys knew enough of his housemate’s fighting style to
accompany her easily, ensuring that she was protected at all times when she was
retreating.
When the duel between the two began to look too much like a fencing match – not
like he knew much about how the Muggle sport worked anyway – Rhys ensured that
Kait was in a good position before he cast a Patronus charm, his little
Hippogriff dancing across the duel straight at Darke.
Knowledge of Darke’s less than human status made him putty in the ginger’s
eyes; he’d always been good at Battle Strategies and most people knew it.
Little Emrys slowly enveloped him with a childlike curiosity that made him
impossibly like the man, and Darke groaned in pain. Kait struck the man with a
painfully bright spell that made Rhys flinch.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, gripping his wrist. They wanted to run back to base, to
save Lena, but there was a familiar head of soft, dark golden brown hair
several yards away from them. Next to that head was another, this time with
cinnamon hair tied up in an elaborate bun.
“FRODO! LORA!”
Kait dashed towards them, pointing her wand up at the air and creating some
small fireworks with the tip of her wand. The ginger was thankful for his grace
as he accompanied his friend through the crossfire, managing to cast a Notice-
Me-Not Charm as she made her way over to them.
The four of them soon met up, but there was no time for a reunion.
“Oy!” someone called, “Someone call the Dark Lord! We have the Seven Devils
here.”
“Fuck,” Kait hissed, “where’s our blasted Queen?”
“Hiding, as usual,” Rhys growled, “they know us far too well even  in  our
protective garb.”
“Your hair’s a dead giveaway,” Frodo remarked, “no hat this morning, of  all
mornings?”
“I think I left my beanie on the ship,” the ginger quipped.
A horde of Dark Soldiers descended on them, their feet galloping like horses.
Kait was already on it, firing off Stupefies and Expelliarmus spells that left
Frodo and Rhys more time to think. Rhys struck an Incendio at one of their
robes, and their close proximity to each other made the fire catching. The
Soldiers shrieked, some of them rushing to Aguamenti the fire shut, leaving the
gap wide open for the Devils to take their leave. As they ran, Alora protected
them, several green darts of light bouncing off her shield. Frodo and Kait were
taking turns casting Killing Curses.
“Where’s Anya?” Rhys asked. His three companions shrugged. The ginger then
fired a Bat Bogey Hex at another Soldier who was charging at them, and it
seemed to work spectacularly as the guy was fighting his flying boogers.
“I don’t think we have time to find her,” Lora frowned, “I think we need to get
that whole Operation DagNia thing executed and done with before they arrive.”
Kait nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
09.00
Ellie didn’t know how much longer her endurance could stretch. Her head was
still stuck in that picture thirty minutes prior, when the largest crack she’d
ever heard told her that the Dark Lord and Lady were here.  So theatric,  she
thought,  just like their children.
The German Runic Shield that Nicholas was helping her achieve would not last
much longer, and it would certainly not be long enough to rush Chara back to
base.
She didn’t know how Chara managed to get  half  a Sectumsempra on her, but the
spell was already making her bleed profusely. Most of the slices were deep and
without the quick thinking of the two Healer trainees, their fellow Army member
should’ve been dead five minutes ago.
“Can you hold it for thirty seconds?” Ellie asked.
“I’ll try my best,” Nick replied, “that’s all I can go with, I’m afraid.”
The young woman simply nodded. The younger said  ‘Vulnera Sanentur’  three
times, begging Merlin not to let anyone from their side die yet. Chara’s scream
curdled her blood. She almost swelled into tears when she saw that most of the
spell’s effects were gone; Chara’s expression had gone from one of agony to her
usual lacklustre expression.
“We have to go  now , El,” Nick said, lifting Chara’s body in his arms. Ellie
clutched onto his arm and they all Apparated to their safe zone in Linnanmäki.
The two younger members were thankful that they had Apparated enough times in
the past to land securely on their feet. A Healing pack zoomed down from the
tops of the trees. She immediately looped the bag around her waist, looking up
to find nobody there.
“You’ll be scarred but okay,” Ellie said, turning her attention back to the
injured woman, keeping her tone level. She applied Dittany to most of the
wounds, wrapping everything up with a bandage. “Get some rest,” she whispered,
“I know it’s hard, but the twins are smart. I’m not saying they’ll make it but
please, you need to rest.”
What compelled her to make such a pessimistic statement, Ellie didn’t know. The
woman on the ground still remained stoic in expression, something she could
never understand. Nick held her hand as they Disapparated back into the front
lines of battle, leaving Chara behind with a crack.
Her companion had already moved in another direction when she found her
bearings, so she raced back to her station several hundred metres away. She was
lucky enough that she dodged a few attacks in her path, though a misdirected
Stunning Spell did throw her off course.
Ellie cursed herself as she dusted herself off the ground, hiding behind a
pillar that had once been part of Parliament House to close her wounds. The
skin of her forehead was almost gone, she knew. She hissed as she applied more
Dittany on her skin, trying not to let her discomfort show as she rushed back
out into the fighting.
Cornelia found her behind the pillar, trying to find a spare moment to breathe.
“Are you okay, El?”
She couldn’t help but lie when she replied with, “Yes, I most definitely am.”
The younger woman bit her lip. “I’m scared. What do I do?”
The Healer trainee sighed, knowing that the only just thing to do  now  was to
get to the southern side of the city, where she should be. There was no reason
why she couldn’t take the young girl with her, and two heads was always better
than one.
“Do you have anywhere you need to be?” she asked. Cornelia shook her head.
“Then come with me. I’ve done this before. We should be fine.”
Because Elizabeta O’Malley would be damned before she let anyone feel as
helpless as she did.
===============================================================================
 
October 17th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
It was a good day at Headquarters, if only it was because it’s Charles’s
birthday. The children, who didn’t know much about his involvement as a Dark
Soldier, baked him a cake and had a little party in the Dining Hall for him.
Grandma Ilyina smiled and told him how much the children liked how attentive
and eager he was to listen to their stories at night, how easily he got along
with most of them. They liked him, she said, why wasn’t he around more?
That was no question Chuck could answer, not properly. It was his thirty-ninth
birthday and the first one he felt good celebrating. No one had ever cared for
it in school except for Lena, and in the Dark Army birthdays were a thing of
the past. He’d even gotten some presents these years, most of which included
portraits of him drawn with various degrees of artistic licence.
At least I can tick ‘get a portrait drawn of myself’ off the bucket list.
Dommi had celebrated along with him, helping him engage in polite conversation
and using her sunny disposition to get him out of anything he wasn’t
comfortable with. The Hitrost alumnus mused that for all the things the War had
managed to change, it didn’t change her social smarts at all.
After the kids had gone to take their naps, Charles and Dommi were alone in the
Great Hall, sharing a bottle of wine. The grandparents shrugged off their
attempts at helping them out with the youngsters, but they told them that love
was fleeting in war, that they should make the most of the time they had. (They
also said they’d pay later anyway, but in what manner, Charles didn’t know.
They both understood that sentiment, though in vastly different (though not
completely dissimilar) ways.
“So,” Dommi asked, “how did you spend your birthday last year?”
Charles frowned, “Well, it was a complete failure compared to this.”
That was true. This time last year, he’d been pining over a girl who was dead
for  three  years – but something picked at him saying that she  wasn’t,  and
that caused most of his nightmares pre-captivity – and spent the night
pretending he wasn’t bothered by Lucifer’s perverse talk and the bedroom eyes
Darke and Jaelyn kept sending each other across the room.
And on that note: Merlin, how  thick  is Lucifer?
There were many things about the Dark Army that Charles wanted to tell his
girlfriend (thirty-nine and still  antsy  about putting labels on his
relationships) but he felt  wrong  talking about them.
“Huh,” she said, “they’re not big on parties in the Dark Side?”
“Unless you’re a Lestrange or a member of the Inner Circle – of which I am  not
– no one throws you a party. You get a pat on the back and you get on with the
rest of the day.”
“Wow, Chuck. Still sucking at the whole infiltrating into social circles thing,
huh?”
“Perhaps,” he sighed, “I’m sure it’s because I don’t fancy a duel everyone
tells me a your mum joke, and the fact that I sullied myself with the likes of
you, or at least enough to have a child with you.” His eyes widened at what he
just said, too far into Donnica Lestrange’s mindset to leave before he could,
“Oh shit, I’m sorry – “
“No, I know you don’t mean it,” she replied, “I know you don’t think I’m…
beneath you – Healing doesn’t work without science – but it’s so difficult to
get over all those years of those beliefs being stuck down your throat.”
His breath caught. She was right, and he made no move to speak.
“Do you know why there were so few Muggleborns in Durmstrang, Chuck? We had to
take  tests  about what it was like to survive in the Wizarding world. We had
to know its currency, general laws, customs. It was like they put it there so
there would be no Muggleborns because they knew that they would all fail. You
were around when half our class could barely tell Knuts and Sickles apart and
they  were raised in the Wizarding world.” A tear began to form and Charles
placed an arm around her.
“The only reason that I ever passed the test was because I started showing
early and someone in my neighbourhood noticed and they were a witch too. A
proper pureblood witch that knew how admissions worked and liked me enough to
make sure I got in.”
“Haze,” Charles whispered. She nodded.
“She moved the world for me,” she said, wistful, “she sponsored me so that I
wouldn’t have to attend the Gymnasium in Hanover. She told me, ‘You’re
brilliant, Dommi. You deserve only the best.’ So she worked her arse off,
making me spend entire summers with her so I could learn how things worked.
And… and I loved her for it. She loved me too.”
Her lips trembled. “So I joined the Light Army the moment I could because I
thought I could fend for myself, and I can. I do it by saving others and that
I’m perfectly okay with. You don’t notice it, maybe, but everyone making the
most important decisions of this war is a pureblood with vaults and vaults of
money to their name.
“I understand their intentions, and I know that you can’t change much unless
you influence the ones in power, but I thought that as an actual living,
breathing  Muggleborn  – the very  people  this war is  about  – I’d get more
say in this. I expected my views to be  respected  and  heard.  But do you know
how much input I had since the war started? Zero. Nada. Zilch.
“My only opportunity came when Rhys was attacked. I kept him  safe  and out of
harm’s way for  sixteen years.  Do you know how Lena repaid me? Constantly
ignoring me until  her husband  had to scold her, lectures on secrecy,
blatantly leaving out me out on missions… the list goes on, Chuck.” Her fingers
curled into a fist as she inhaled, unfurling as she exhaled.
Charles could do nothing but squeeze her hand.
“Calling the war a fight for Muggleborn rights would be scratching the surface.
The tip of the iceberg.” he said, “It’s never been about equality, not really.”
“You don’t say.” She wiped the tear from her face. “I – I’m sorry for being
such a downer on your birthday.”
“You’re not being a downer, Dom,” Chuck smiled, holding the woman close to him.
“You have every right to feel the way you feel.” He kissed her forehead. “Wanna
watch a film?”
Dommi laughed, and it was light as leaves. “Sure.”
***** 3D: October 2080 *****
Chapter Summary
     “This looks very… 80s. 1980s.”
     “Is that bad?”
     “That depends. Is your target audience a hundred years old?”
October 19th, Year 20: von Bergen & Rousseau Headquarters, Paris, France
“Are you sure that that’s your final design?”
“Yeah,” Taden nodded.
Jakob raised an eyebrow. “This looks very… 80s. 1980s.”
“Is that bad?”
“That depends. Is your target audience a hundred years old?”
Burying his head in his hands, the blond shook his head. “Oh Merlin, it’s
horrible, isn’t it?”
“I’m not saying it’s horrible, but it could definitely do with some… tweaking.”
He placed the tip of his wand on the page, and various elements of the page
began rearranging themselves.
Taden’s eyes widened. “Wait, you can  do  that?”
“I went to the Magical Department in Central Saint Martins when I graduated
from Durmstrang,” Jakob explained, “unlike you, I was lucky enough to earn a
degree and have something resembling a life before it was taken from me.” He
cleared his throat. “Oh what? Yeah, you can do that. I can teach you if you
want.”
“Really?” The blond looked at the piece of paper, now coloured. The heading was
worded much better than he could ever attempt to do in a decorative font that
wasn’t too hard on the eyes. The sentences Taden had spent hours trying to
write were somehow simplified into short succinct bites of information easy for
five-year-olds to take in. “I’d love to learn,” he said finally. “It’s not as
useful as hexes and counter curses but I’ll take it.”
Jakob gave the young man a smile. “You’d have made a formidable Uchitel, just
like that Queen of yours,” he said wistfully, “and without all that ambition
and haughtiness screwing you over I’m sure you’d be cultivating your
intelligence as a scholar as opposed to fighting.”
“But Dylan  is  cultivating me, or as much as he can.” Taden gave an uneasy
chuckle. “I sometimes wish that I didn’t get sucked into it – the war, I mean –
but I just want to do what’s  right.  And excluding a group of people for their
heritage isn’t it.”
“No, it isn’t. Say, how did you get involved in all of this in the first
place?”
The blond flushed. “M – my wife.”
Jakob patted his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve already learned this by now, but if
there’s anything the war managed to get rid of, it’s the notion that females
are the lesser gender. Lena Edmunds leads the charge on the Light, and without
Ksenia Lestrange’s political astuteness her husband would be dead. They will be
the victors, not us men.” He Summoned a glass of red wine and took a sip. “Your
wife is a hell of a dueller, or so I’m told, and would you call my sister
terrifying?”
“Miss Magda  was  terrifying yes, and the one that drove us wasn’t the kindest
either.”
It was Jakob’s turn to give a chuckle of his own. “I should have certified
which  sister. I mean Hazelle.”
“Mrs. Bellamy? Oh,  scary.  Ellie dyed Cornelia’s – or was it Cordelia’s – hair
green and she was a  mess  for  days.”
“Hazelle did have a bit of a reputation for bossing people around to get what
she wanted. I suppose that if it wasn’t for her, Durmstrang wouldn’t have had
its first Muggleborn student pass the entrance exam in a century.”
Taden’s lips went dry. “Healer O’Malley?”
He gave the boy a curt nod and decided that there were many things that had
been left out about their pasts, but what happened between Haze and Dommi had
occurred thirty years ago and there were too many things to be considered  now
for him to sit down and tell fairy tales. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. We’ll
become impossibly late if we don’t print these out soon.”
===============================================================================
October 25th, Year 20: Paris, France
“It’s only been six days and people in  Italy  have heard of it.”
Dylan tried his best not to roll his eyes at the young protégé. “Had Daggerbutt
not so violently destroyed the Internet we would’ve spread the news to
Americain half a day.” He sighed, “Is the man benton sending us back to the
Middle Ages?”
“He doesn’t like Muggle technology in the slightest, so perhaps,” Taden
replied. “You know, I’ve had dinner with him and he’s not quite the violent
madman you’re all making him out to be.”
“A bit difficult to believe when you’ve spent  seven years  in school with him
watching him  become  a violent madman.”
“He was seventeen. Anyone can be a madman at seventeen. I can even assume that
my own wife was a madwoman at seventeen – “
“ – please don’t bother. I’m not in the mood to sympathise with someone who’s
trying to kill my friends, thanks.” His clipped tone served as a warning that
this conversation was over or so help him. “But really, tell me. In what ways
is he not a violent madman?”
“He eats with a knife and fork, and he says please and thank you. Makes eye
contact with people when he speaks.”
“And those are the marks of a man fit to rule over the next generation of
European wizards. My grandparents have never touched a fork in their lives, but
I would not go as far as to call them  uncivilised. ”
Taden exhaled. “I – I didn’t mean that. I just… it’s a bit disconcerting to
suddenly have to think of him as a madman all of a sudden when I practically
grew up with him.”
“But somehow screwing around with our Vanka – a blood traitor, they call her –
wasn’t much of a problem.” The man’s tone grew firm. “And it’s not ‘all of a
sudden’, Taden. You had four years to back out of it.” He exhaled, running his
hand through his hair before picking up a letter. “I am quite amused at the
amount of fan mail we’re getting.” He used a Slicing Hex to cut the envelope
open, read the letter, and cringed at its contents. “’You go girl?’ We’re not
girls. We’re boys.”
The blond spent some time choosing his words before settling on them. “I don’t
think they care. We didn’t publish our names on the pamphlet so it’s not like
they can make accurate assumptions about our gender.” He sighed, opening up
another letter and looking rather confused by it. “I don’t know what this
says.” The blond passed the piece of paper to his Professor.
Dylan scanned the paper, his face souring as the meaning of the contents dawned
on him. With an underarm throw, he threw the crumpled letter into the
fireplace. “Thank Merlin you don’t read French.”
===============================================================================
 
October 28th: Calais, France
Taden wasn’t sure what to expect when Dylan and Jakob had taken them to the
seaside town for a little trip. France was as free as it could get – from both
the Dark and the Light’s clutches – and any trace of the terror that had once
gripped the country didn’t show in how the sea lapped against his feet,
ushering him deeper.
It had been a while since Taden had seen the ocean. He had never been overly
fond of it in the first place, but in visits with his family he had always
found interesting people with stories that would stretch beyond his limited
imagination. He’d collected stories of lost loves and a painting that
illustrated what the beach was like before the War, when those that frequented
it were as golden as the sand.
“We’re going to go to Beauxbatons soon, right?” he said, throwing a pebble into
the sea. It skipped once, then twice, then dove into the blue. “Isn’t it all
the way across the country?”
“Yes,” Jakob replied, “and I’m just trying to get as close to England as
humanly possible without having to cross the Channel.”
“But I thought you can’t cross the Channel.”
The older man raised a brow, taking a drag of his cigarette. “You can, but you
know Britain,” he said, his tone dry of humour, “the government loves being an
isolated island as much as they hate immigrants.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Doesn’t make much of a difference whether they’re Muggle or wizard.”
Taden couldn’t say very much; if there was one thing Dylan and Jakob had
managed to do it was constantly remind him that he knew very little about how
the world worked. They weren’t wrong, but he wished that he had something to
contribute to the conversation. All he could do was listen, and now he
understood why Ellie grovelled so much during meetings.
The blond had never been to Britain, which he found both depressing and a
relief, considering what happened to his ancestral homeland. When many wizards
attempted to relocate  back  into the tiny island, they had said no and his
family was now Russian.
It wasn’t as if Taden had any problem with that – Merlin, of course not – but
he wished he could be of more use. In war, he learns, people are dispensable
even if they counted, but only as one more body towards the opposing side.
Returning to the car where they stationed all of their items, Taden put himself
inside, his body taking up the whole of the back seat. He had his note cards in
hand: on them, several translations from Russian to French filled the majority
of the paper, and on little sporadic corners, like dots on a Pollock painting,
were the sentences that needed to be said.
The great thing about dots was that one could easily expand them. And that was
what Taden did.
===============================================================================
 
10.40 October 30th, Year 20: Helsinki
Lena and Rhys had been reunited soon after Dagareth and Ksenia’s arrival to the
battlefield. The ginger had all but shook his wife out of her hiding spot – a
rollercoaster near the southern entrance of the park – saying that she
shouldn’t hide for so long or their army would be slaughtered. She’d retorted
with the fact that  he  wanted her hidden because at least  one  of them had to
return to Ana when the battle was over.
In their massacre of Dark Soldiers, they could hear Hazelle’s angry shriek from
several blocks away. They found out later that she had killed her brother Karl,
and Lena had to empathise; her sister had taken the side of the Dark Lord and
she too would kill her without mercy.
Even if her sister  hadn’t  been on her side, killing her would not be much of
a loss.
The Edmunds's were catching their breath behind the same rollercoaster Lena had
chosen to hide behind. Lena had put a stasis charm on a jug of coffee she made
the night before. Each of them took a shot of it and sat until she could feel
the Notice Me Not Charm wear off.
“So Karl von Bergen is dead, all four Lestranges are still alive, and we know
for sure that there’s a mole around here somewhere.” The blonde growled. “I
can’t believeI’m saying this, but Chucklefuck’s right. Our plan is working.”
“If I were Prentiss and I did spend twenty years with these guys, I’d like to
think I got  some  things right. But he didn’t get  everything  right.”
“It’s a battle, Rhys. He’s not going to get everything right.”
“Chucklefuck is an idiot. There’s not much that he can get right.”
“Rhys,”  Lena warned, “we have two minutes until the charm wears off and  this
is what we choose to get in an argument about? If I can let go about Valerie
bloody Greenway you can forget about Chuck for  one  second – ”
“Oh wow, Lena, you actually  forgave  someone – “
“ – she’s  dead,  Rhys. Of course I let go.” She exhaled, holding her husband’s
hand. “I have another plan. One that will potentially go awry.”
“Merlin, what is it?”
The blonde stood up and grabbed her husband’s wrist. “We have to go find Anya
first.”
His eyes widened. “Le,  what is the meaning of this?”
“Well, as you know, love, Anya owns a bookshop full of antique volumes in
Hanover – “
“No time.” Lena could practically feel herself being noticed as her husband
spoke. “We must go.”
11.20
Over in the distance, where no one seemed to notice anything, a sphere the size
of a tennis ball landed where the Parliament House used to be. There was a loud
bang as it exploded into Fiendfyre, the crackling flames beginning to engulf
the battlefield.
When the flames began to leave the safety of the Parliament, they stopped as
quickly as it came.
11.28
“Did everyone make it out of there alive?” Luke asked, brushing his forehead
clear of sweat. He heaved a sigh of relief when Ineesa and Ashley came to view.
“I haven’t seen the twins in  hours,”  Ashley said solemnly, “and Nick and
Ellie split up when Chara got injured.”
The man ran his hands through his hair. The two young women had found him very
early on in the day, and though he didn’t mind the blunt, oft amusing
commentary they provided in battles he  did  wish that if he got stranded with
someone it was someone with more battle experience.
There were already some Ashwinder eggs from the ashes, and that immediately
made Luke’s skin crawl. “Let’s  leave,”  he whispered to the two women, and
they did not hesitate, though Ineesa almost snickered at the slightly terrified
expression on his face.
“I’m sorry Mr. Bellamy,” she replied, “Kait’s a Parseltongue, so – “
“I have known you for  twenty years,  Ineesa,” the man hissed. “And your mother
for way longer, so I understand how my situation may  amuse  you. But we’re not
in a good position to make fun of anyone, let alone – “
Luke wondered why on earth he ever wondered to go on his long tirades when
people tended to abandon him in the middle of them. Ineesa was already flirting
with yet another of the Dark Soldiers, her hand skimming their sides before
Stunning them without a wand. He had grown familiar with the children of the
Seven Devils yet their eccentricities continued to surprise him.
“How on earth did you do that?” Ashley asked in wonder, dragging another
Soldier and dropped him on top of the one Ineesa had immobilised. “Nick said
Kait hasn’t even taught him wandless magic yet.”
“But he’s never been a quick study, now has he?” the elder of the two said
proudly, “and I am almost three years older than him, mind you.” She grinned
when the Dark Soldier exploded to a million pieces, the parts of her scattering
into the air like dust. “I think we should get a move on, Mr. Bellamy. We don’t
have much time to recover.”
12.32
Ellie was pretty sure that out of  everyone  she’d ever met, ever, that she had
had the  worst  luck out of anyone. Ever.
Cornelia had spotted Jarlan Lestrange from a mile away, and it was difficult
not  to. He was Apollo, essentially: a younger, more handsome duplicate of his
father that would take over his reign of terror when the time came. His blond
hair had grown long since the last time Ellie had seen him, tying it in an
effortless bun with wisps of hair framing his face.
The worst part of it all was that  he  managed to spot  her,  so whether she
liked it or not she had to duel him or Cornelia would  die . She rushed the
younger woman away from the scene and told her to retreat to the Queen’s tree.
Promptly, she ran away, leaving the Healer trainee to deal with the Dark Prince
on her own.
“You’re in quite the state,  Elizabeta,”  he said, approaching her. He cupped
her chin in his palm, stroking her cheek free from dirt. She flinched, stepping
backwards. The way he lingered on every syllable of her given name made her
spine shiver. “There’s a bit I can do to help you clean up.
“W – Why haven’t you killed me yet?” she asked meekly. Admittedly, she would be
nothing but a toy for him; only Vanka had duelling skills that could parallel
his in their peer group. Her face hardened, creasing into a scowl. “And I do
not need any cleaning up. I am  not  filthy.”
“You’re a half-blood,” he said, his voice almost  purring,  something that made
her gulp. “You are so very,  very  filthy.”
She pushed him away from her, brandishing her wand in his face. “I might be a
horrible  dueller, but Merlin  forbid  that I go down without a fight.”
He took his wand out of his pocket. “So you want to play dirty then, Elizabeta
.  So be it.”
Thank  Merlin  Ellie had mastered the art of the wordless Protego because she
managed to have her shield up by the time he sent a rain of curses in her
direction. She was also thankful that her shield was actually of  some  use
against him. Come to think of it, she might as well count her blessings before
her shield breaks and she dies a lonely death in the battlefield.
But then he stopped firing.
Ellie was quick, but he was quicker. She knew that much.
Her Protego was obviously better, but she can’t just cast it up again; she’d be
too drained too quickly. Firing a Stunning spell in his direction, she cast her
shield again, flawlessly flicking her wand to deflect his curses. He kept
smirking at her, taunting her with those filthy, filthy words: things that made
her grit her teeth and she swore to Merlin that she must survive just to get
that stupidsmirk off his face.
“You’re so  pretty  when you try to fight me off like that, “ the man taunted,
firing an Impendimenta at her foot. She reacted quickly, jumping over it like
she was playing Double Dutch. Hurling some Stunning spells did not seem to stop
him, as his wand moved seamlessly to stop them.
She could feel his face inch closer and closer towards her with every spell,
his legs crossing leagues with every stride. There got to a point where their
bodies hovered over one another like magnets with like poles forced together.
Her breath hitched, beads of sweat tainting the creases of coloured dust that
had formed on her face.
But Ellie was pretty and filthy and  strong  all at once, and so she did what
any girl trapped by an intimidating man would do. Kiss him.
Jarlan’s lips were hard, stilled at first, but once they responded it was a
hell of a kiss if she ever had one. It was a battle in the middle of battle:
his hands went nowhere near her but it felt as if they  had,  a glorious
contrast of his fiery kiss and the cool Finnish autumn overwhelming her. It was
obvious that he intended to  bruise  her and though she didn’t find the
sensation of it  uncomfortable  she still did not intend to shag him in the
middle of battle.
Ellie jabbed her wand on his chest, effectively breaking their kiss.
Jarlan’s face was slightly flushed as someone who has been kissed so often was,
but there was no hint of the kiss on his face. His trademark smirk was
plastered in place.
“That was a hell of a parley if I’ve ever seen one,” Jarlan drawled. “Though I
hope you don’t try and use it on me again. It’s a horribly ineffective method.”
“Caught you off guard for a second though,” Ellie said, trying to match his
smirk, “and that was  all  I needed.”
She had already put up a shield by the time he threw his first curse at her.
They returned to their fencing match, with her shield holding up well against
his attacks. Thank Merlin she had paid so much attention to him during their
schooldays; it had actually come in handy in battle, and not for the first
time.
Jarlan fired a Slicing Hex when someone managed to Stun him from behind,
leaving him to fly through the air. Ellie managed to dodge the spell, but did
not avoid Jarlan’s disarming spell. Her vine wand darted away from her. Before
she could grab it, the man landed on her, and they both landed with a thud on
the ground.
The person who must’ve attacked him grabbed her wand, and Ellie looked up at
them to hiss in protest. Her eyes widened when she saw a familiar blonde,
sporting sunglasses she never knew she had.
“Good job, El,” Vanka smiled, pocketing her best friend’s wand. She turned to
her enemy, pointing her wand at his chin. “You will get off her  right now,
and you will  walk away  and  leave her alone.”
Jarlan sprang from the ground, his back straight as a metal rod. Still on the
ground, Ellie’s breath stopped as he stepped closer and closer to Vanka. From a
distance, Vanka was only half a head shorter than he was. Their faces were
dangerously close, enough for lips to touch if she craned her neck high enough.
He merely grunted before he walked off, silent, barely sparing a glance back at
them. “This match isn’t over, O’Malley!” he taunted, and Ellie could feel the
heat of his smirk burning into her forehead.
When Vanka lent a hand to help her, Ellie took it, feeling her body being
tugged by the taller blonde.  When she was on her feet, her wand was handed
back to her and she smiled at her best friend, who looked positively worried.
“Did he hurt you?” Vanka asked in a hushed voice. Ellie shook her head and the
other girl heaved a sigh of relief. “Well, he must have done  something  for
you to look so terrified.”
“He looked like he was going to  kill  you,” Ellie said, the lie grating her
skin. “Of course I was terrified.”
“You were scared for me?”
“Of course I was scared for you.” The blonde looked  far  too shocked for her
liking at that revelation. “You’re not invincible just because you can wield
weapons.” Ellie was thankful that no one managed to walk in on them just yet.
“You’re my best friend. It’s my job to worry about you.”
Vanka smirked. “You sound like äiti.”
“You’re saying that like it’s a  bad  thing.”
The blonde twirled her wand and grabbed her friend’s hand. “We should go take
down some Dark Soldiers.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “You are  far  too enthusiastic about this.”
***** 3E: October 2080 + Flashbacks *****
September 7th, Year 11
Ivanka observed her reflection in the mirror. Her long blonde hair was tied in
the tight Dutch braid only Lena seemed to perfect. Her school uniform had been
ironed and pressed, and she’d dusted off any creases that made her look less
than Lena Vorstenbach’s adopted daughter.
Ellie’s hair was also braided, but in that complicated way Dommi seemed to do
it that made it look like she had clumps of hair instead of strands. It didn’t
make her look any less neat or professional like she so often fretted about,
because her clothes were also ironed and pressed to perfection.
Thank Merlin for Hazelle Bellamy’s Dry Cleaning Services.
Alex had waited for them by the door, his school tie not even knotted properly.
Nessie was talking to him, her skirt  way  shorter than the dress code allowed,
her nametag reading ‘Nessie’ where ‘Ineesa’ should be. Her hair was tinted blue
at the edges, perhaps the result of playing with a Sharpie for way too long.
Vanka couldn’t stop herself from admiring both of them: they were both older
than she was and both so handsome.
“You are going tokill Professor Hansoff,” Alex remarked of the girl’s outfit.
“If she didn’t like us so much I think you’d have been dead already.” He turned
away from the girl for a moment to acknowledge the blonde. “All ready, Vanka?”
“You bet,” the blonde replied, her cheeks red. He offered his arm, and she
looped hers around his with no complaints. When she did so, Ellie giggled
behind her. Rolling her eyes, Vanka decided to ignore her best friend and
decided to focus her attention on listing the items in her backpack.
The way too school was dull, but Vanka couldn’t deny that the Institute was a
magnificent building. Unlike what she heard of Hogwarts, the school was built
with zero protection and with a thankful lack of moving staircases. Äiti had
told her that it was only fair that the school served as neutral ground between
the Dark and Light. Perhaps it was because she and Ksenia Lestrange (then
Sokol) had been passionate about education and both insisted that regardless of
their rivalry, school was the one thing that they should not fight about.
Vanka had heard stories about how the school had tried to set up unity between
both sides, but ended up being a cesspool of rivalries that had all to do with
your birth. It didn’t help that the first children from the Light Queen and the
Dark Lord were both starting school this year.
To be honest, Vanka didn’t know whether to be scared or excited. She knew
Donnica and Jarlan were going to be tough competition, and her only hope was to
keep up with them and make Äiti proud. She knew lots of spells and plenty of
combat skills – she’d acquired her wand at the age of seven – but she wondered
if it was enough to stay one step ahead of the Lestranges.
Even then, she knew it wouldn’t be smart to show them all the things she knew.
And she was sure they would do the same.
Her first impression of Jarlan as she entered the Great Hall was that he looked
like a manipulative brat, a complete arse, but Vanka was sure that he would
grow into his father as he aged. His smirk made the blonde’s neutral facial
expression turn sour, but it seemed to do the exact opposite to Ellie as a
smile bloomed on her face.
He was sitting next to his sister, who was blatantly showing little attention
to the Headmaster as she blew a bubble. She chewed with her mouth open, her
feet propped up on the table. Her blonde hair must have been combed yet they
had somehow become unruly in the space between leaving home and coming to
school. Vanka was no uptight girl, but Merlin forbid she ever showed such
disrespect to an authority figure. It didn’t matter if it was her uncle or her
mother. Respect for authority was important.
Alex tugged her away from the Dark children and sat her down on the table
littered with various associates she’d known over the years. The Krums sat on
their side of the Hall. Vanka’s fist curled at the sight. They had only pledged
their allegiance to Lumen de Lucerna only recently, and Äiti remained highly
distrustful of them.
Their first day continued without any flair, but Vanka was not disappointed.
===============================================================================
December 2nd, Year 11: Docentrebis Institute, Ground Floor
Ellie sighed as she cast several Healing spells all over Vanka’s face. The
blonde was relieved that even if she returned home bruised and battered, she
wasn’t bleeding.  Scabs were practically tattooed on her legs at this point.
Her scabby knees were a grisly shade of red and it came as a surprise to many
that she had yet to break any bones during the course of the school year.
Donnica grinned as she stood over both girls, hands on her hips. “You can’t
even take care of yourself, Vorstenbach,” she sniffed. Like her classmate, she
sported a black eye. “How pathetic of you. I thought mummy dearest taught you
better.”
After Vanka gave her a curt nod, Ellie nodded and moved away from them as
lookout. “She did,” the blonde taunted, her hand already moving for her wand.
“At least I have enough balls to fight you on my own without the use of
pigheaded lackeys.” She stomped her feet until her face was not far from her
foe's.
“Me? My friends? Pigheaded?” Behind Vanka, Donnica, her brother and Claudius
Sicarius approached her, flaunting their wands. “We have been trained by the
most powerful wizard of his generation.”
“And I have been trained by the best witch of her generation,” Vanka said,
dismissing the trio with a wave of her hand. Claudius fired off a Sectumsempra
at the blonde, who dodged out of its way rather theatrically by barrel rolling
to her right. “No one person can be the best at something so vague as magic. I
thought your ten-thousand Galleon governess taught you that.”
“And your zero Sickle psycho mother doesn’t understand that where there is
something, there is someone who’s the best at it.”
Even Vanka knew that her buttons were too easy to push, but she decided to act
recklessly anyway. It wasn’t like she could get expelled or anything – a
legitimate school rule – so she blasted jinx after jinx after jinx at the
Lestranges.
As predicted, Jarlan came to his sister’s aid almost immediately. His
protective shield did the job, bouncing the jinxes off his shield. He sent a
Stunning spell in Vanka’s way, and she made no move to avoid it.
Vanka was thrown against the wall in spectacular fraction and though her head
hit the wall with a loud thump, she felt numb. She’d been hit with this spell
enough times over the last several months for all the impacts to blur together.
Ellie – the patient soul she was – immediately rushed to her aid. The girl
immediately began closing some of the wounds and blotted some of the more
serious spots with Dittany.
Once Ellie had done the best she could, she stepped away as Donnica continued
to approach Vanka. “Get up, you bitch,” she leered, “I am nowhere near done
with you.”
Dusting her skirt clean, Vanka was thankful that at least her hair was kept out
of her face for staring at the not insubstantial damage she’d inflicted on
Donnica and her brother earlier in the day. “I can’t be bothered to go for
another round,” she said, faking a yawn, “because I know that the real fight
will be on the battlefield when we’re older.”
The elder Lestrange daughter blew a raspberry. “Pussy,” Donnica jeered, turning
around and flipping her long blonde hair at just the right angle to hit her
opponent in the face. Vanka spat in it. Jarlan turned around as if to say
something of note, but decided not to.
The longer she spent around the Dark Army, Vanka realised as she made her
journey home, the more she felt as if she was being starved of something. Every
time she saw Donnica’s face, all she could imagine was how pretty it would look
lying on this very corridor, a crimson river pouring from her head. Her smug
grin would be gone, replaced by a shock that could only be felt when a blood
traitor beat you in a duel.
Of course, Vanka wasn’t thinking about playing fair. Donnica was never going
to, and she wasn’t planning on it either. No. Lena was going to teach her
Muggle methods and unlike the Lestranges, the Vorstenbachs didn’t mind getting
their hands dirty in the slightest especially when the payout could be the end
of the war. She was going to beat her and stab her and hear her scream for
mercy until she cried.
Somehow, her blood had turned to steel.
===============================================================================
14.00 October 30th, Year 20: Helsinki, Finland
Vanka was going to  curse  herself for letting Ellie run along and find the
Bellamy twins. Now she was left alone in the battlefield with nowhere to run
except onward, and the only person barring her from safety was the one person
she sought to avoid during battles.
She knew her strategy during battle. Fight Jarlan and hopefully  Avada  his
sorry arse had been her sole duty today, and she couldn’t even do  that
properly through no fault of her own.
Vanka had been torn apart by shock the first time she had killed a person.
Claude Sicarius’s face had been pale as snow when she struck him with that
emerald green light, the rushing noise flowing like the ocean in her ears. For
days she had held her chin up high when the sun shone but the moment she pulled
the covers over her head, tears decorated her cheek, giving her features a
cheap sheen that would last until morning.
Had it not been for Alex pulling her together, pressing her forehead kisses and
allowing her to use him as she pleased, she would probably be stuck in that
stage. Ellie had been the one who’d watched her bleed tears and hold her close
at night without many complaints; her warm smile would be the first thing she
saw every morning. Taden had held her hand in the corridors, told her stories
that would lull her to a dreamless sleep.
The irony was that she now had no qualms about inflicting that same curse on
any Dark Soldiers that dared crossed her path. She had murdered Abraxas
Montague – all she had to do was cast the Curse non-verbally – and had wished
that he had time to bleed as she pocketed her wand in her sleeve.
The blonde had had enough time to compose herself from the wane of the last
attack when she felt the tip of a wand pressed against her back. On instinct,
she jerked away from it and turned to face the woman that had snuck herself
into her skin since the age of eleven.
Vanka wished she could be surprised, but she wasn’t. A fight was never a fight
between them. It always had to be a showdown, the Grand Final of a Grand Slam.
Had it been purely up to the not-so-newlywed, she would’ve spared the theatrics
and gotten straight to the meat of things. But her opponent did not share that
same sentiment.
When Donnica let the echo of her combat boots echo on the pavement as she
walked slowly towards her, Vanka knew better than to attempt to curse her. She
simply watched and wondered how and if she could make a move.
A body slamming into the ground beside her interrupted her reverie. From her
peripheral vision she could almost be certain that it had been her äiti from
the Vorstenbach blonde hair. She had wiped her nose clean of blood, quickly
getting back on her feet. Ksenia Lestrange quickly stormed at her, firing off
spell after spell after spell, and before Vanka could goad her aunt, Donnica
already inches from her, wand on her chest.
“It would be so glorious if I could murder you nice and slow, Vorstenbach,” she
whispered, her lips moving closer towards Vanka’s neck. The scent of blood and
guts barely stirred Vanka out of her reverie. “But you’re far too close to the
top of the food chain for that. Father would be very displeased if I murdered
you at the wrong time.” Her lips traced the curve of Vanka’s neck, but where
she had once found pleasure she found extreme discomfort. “Congratulations on
the wedding, by the way. Never knew that Wells had the balls to fuck you.”
“He’s got more balls than you do,” Vanka responded, inhaling sharply. To think
that it had been a month since she last saw her husband, to hear his voice talk
on and on about sweet nothings – that did make her heart ache somewhat for her
thoughts to linger on him.
But there was never enough time to linger.
“Debatable,” Donnica murmured. Her free hand took hold of Vanka’s chin, tilting
it upwards to meet her gaze. “I’m sure you’re well aware of this, Vorstenbach,
but in the Dark Army, no one has more power than my mother. The same goes for
you. No one has more power in the Light Side than your precious aunt.”
Vanka’s entire body stilled as she waited for her rival to continue. Instead of
the Avada she had been anticipating, she found that all trace of the Dark
Princess had been removed from her, and the blonde was now staring at her with
interest. “It’s quite interesting that you have never thought about taking the
throne.”
“I lack experience,” Vanka deadpanned, a regurgitated reply. Her expression
turned sour. “Stop playing games and let me fucking  fight  you, dammit.”
Donnica rolled her eyes. “I’d let you, but what’s the fun in that?”
Vanka shoved the brown-eyed girl away from her. “Just. Stop. Talking.” She
removed her wand from her sleeve and wielded it as she began casting nonverbal
spells at her. Though they were mostly harmless things, like Tarantallegra and
Immobulus, she was still angry that the Dark Lord’s only daughter managed to
dodge them all without breaking a sweat.
“Told you there wasn’t much fun in this,” Donnica said, projecting her voice.
She hopped on top of a nearby block of concrete to avoid an incoming hex. Vanka
did not stop attacking, knowing from attacking Ellie enough times that she
would break. She has to break. She must.
“I don’t  care,”  Vanka spat, “you – have – to –  die.”
Donnica scoffed as she finally cast a powerful Langlock against her friend, but
Vanka used this break in her defensive strategy to finally go for her Muggle
style. She practically threw herself at the blonde, darting like a javelin
through the air before landing on top of the woman. Vanka groaned as she sat up
and straddled Donnica, pinning her head down.
“Dear Nimue,” the latter deadpanned, crossing her arms, “if you wanted a rehash
of fourth year you could’ve just  said  so.”
“I’d say so, but what’s the fun in that?” Vanka mocked, punching Donnica in the
nose. When there was no reaction from the other blonde, she continued to punch,
her rhythm erratic and her power waning and waxing as she hit. Whatever
techniques she had been taught by her mother had gone down the drain.
Blood gently trickled down her nose, and from pure inspection alone Vanka could
see that she had done a number on her lifetime nemesis. “Pathetic,” she hissed,
standing up and staring down at her.  “Petrificus Totalus.”
Vanka erected a large Shield around herself and sat back in her bubble, sitting
down on the grass. Satisfaction swelled in her gut as she sneered at the
paralysed Princess. The blonde traced her features with her wand: the sharp
curve of her jaw blushed with knuckle marks, her thin lips bloodied from two
red lines stemming from her pug nose. She brushed stray locks out of her line
of vision, traced the outline of the eyeliner the woman had so painstakingly
applied, cupped her cheek with the tenderness of a lover.
“You had a go with me once,” Vanka muttered snidely, her wand now focused on
her face, “you would be mistaken if you think that I would not do the same to
you.” She lifted her wand several inches from her face. “If you really think
that I would let you have a quick death, you would be mistaken,  devushka.”
A bead of sweat on Donnica’s face glistened in the evening air. Though there
was duelling all around them, Vanka’s notice-me-not charm was strong enough to
ward off any attention. She turned her attention back to her hostage, and the
smile she gave her was enough to turn Rome to dust. “Merlin, it’s so tempted to
just hurt you and let you bleed out, but I’d prefer it if you had a clean
slate.”
After casting some Healing spells to the best of her ability, Vanka leaned back
and beamed at her handiwork. One could say the Dark Princess looked almost
pristine, though the blonde did not touch that pretty black eye of hers. Inside
her, ten-year-old Vanka felt sick at the realisation of what she had done, of
what she did, of what she will do.
But little Ivanka Vorstenbach was not tortured for hours on end by this same
girl. Someone that she had spent over half of her life loathing, someone who
went out of her way to torture her family and friends, someone who had a
Narcissism complex even her father would marvel at.
Vanka had thrown whatever emotion she had for this woman as a teenager out the
window, and she knew that another chance to have her revenge like this would be
few and far between in the future.
She raised her wand, and from its tip came a bright green light.
17.28
Rhys wasn’t sure how much ammo he stocked in his gun, but he was glad he had it
anyway. His wife was too busy trying to fight off Mrs. Daggerbutt somewhere,
and he was trying to see how easy it was to put a bullet between Mr.
Daggerbutt’s ribs.
So far he had managed to keep it to just shooting spells between them, though
the ginger wondered why he was trying to keep his Muggle tactics a secret from
the man. They were both quite fond of an old-fashioned bar brawl, if only
because Rhys had the momentum to be able to haul Daggerbutt halfway across the
street. Perhaps he was lacking sixteen years of training to be able to operate
on brute strength, but he never worked like that anyway.
It took a while for the ginger to truly grasp nonverbal magic, but now that he
could fighting Dag was a lot easier. He spoke a lot quicker in his mind,
incorporating some of the old Russian spells Ana had taught him when he was
younger into his duel. Daggerbutt seemed to know every single countercurse for
every one of his spells, and though the Dark Lord was a very well-read man Rhys
definitely wished he  wasn’t.
Their rivalry was molten lava. When ignited, it set off fireworks of every
colour that stung, sliced a vein open and made them bleed. It grew cold at
times where they did not meet, yet the tension was still there like a Chinese
finger trap. Rhys had shared a dorm with that man for six years, and his wife
had shared a Common Room with him for their final year as Head Boy and Head
Girl, and one thing had become crystal clear over their years at school: the
boy was to be stopped.
The ginger could hold a mean grudge – it was one of the few things he had in
common with Lena – though he preferred to think this one was quite justified.
Though he made no move to find out who put him in his sixteen-year coma, he was
positive that Dagareth either put him there or had something to do with it. The
Sleeping Beauty Curse, Dommi had called it, what he had cast on her. He was
meant to be knocked out for an additional eighty-four years, but somehow that
didn’t happen. That was a relief, for a world fighting Dagareth without Lena in
it was a dark one.
As they duelled seamlessly, having been exposed to each other’s styles for a
prolonged period of time, the ginger continued to ponder upon his secret
weapon. The bullets were not Muggle bullets, but ones his wife created using
some molds and shaping tools.  They’re mercury,  she said,  if you manage to
get one of these through his ribs, he’s a fucking goner.
It was a wonder that Rhys didn’t tire out from all this duelling. Perhaps it
was because he was physically thirty-eight but mentally twenty-two, and
adrenaline rushes quicker when he’s younger, but he doesn’t care to know
because he was going to bloody fight this man until he shrivelled up like a
prune so he could go home and shag his wife.
Well, that was the game plan.
By the way things were going, Rhys was pretty sure this was going to end in yet
another stalemate. They were too smooth, too refined, and for one to win a
match things had to be shaken up, to get messy. He swore that his arch nemesis
might as well have read his fucking mind because suddenly he was lunging at
him, but Rhys was quick despite his height and dodged him with ease.
Daggerbutt did a barrel roll before he stood up and launched a particularly
nasty Slicing Hex at the ginger. His response to it was to jump over it like a
trying round of Double Dutch, and the lopsided grin he gave was worth the
heated expression he got as a reply.
Rhys had never truly understood his Sorting into Hrabrost when he was eleven.
Only did it take fighting off the patriarch of a Pureblood Ancient House for
his wife’s hand, fighting an asshole for seven consecutive years and avenging
those he loved for him to realise that his bravery had always been there,
rooted deep in his heart beneath a thick layer of clumsiness and charisma, and
all it needed was the right trigger.
It was this bravery that fuelled him to snatch his gun out of his pocket,
brandishing it in front of his lifetime enemy without a plan in mind. He cocked
his weapon and aimed it at his long-time nemesis without any other intention
than to end him. Rhys pulled the trigger before Daggerbutt could realise what
he was going to do. No amount of magic could make him dodge a bullet when it
was rocketing a hundred miles in his general direction.
Watching the bullet pierce the Daggerbutt’s skin was a magnificent sight. The
ebony-haired man fell to the ground in agony, clutching his torso. His wand
slipped out of his palm and onto the soil, and Rhys knew from a split-second
glance that it was not the elder wand he had wielded in school, but his wife’s
original wand. Giving his enemy a sly smirk, the ginger picked the wand off the
ground. Around him, a ceasefire began. He could hear the anguished cries of
those already mourning their precious Dark Lord.
What knocked the air out of Rhys’s lungs was when he heard a young woman scream
‘Father’. He looked up from the bleeding man when he saw Donnica rushing
towards him, Vanka hot on her tail. There were numerous bruises and scars on
the young woman’s voice, and the ginger could only surmise that her niece had
something to do with it.
It was odd to admit that despite the atrocities the man had committed, he was
no less of a father than Rhys was. But his daughter was no less violent than
Vanka and had hurt her miserably in their school years, and Merlin was the man
lying if he thought that she didn’t deserve it.
Lena came to join Rhys soon after, a few scars fading on her face plus a large
gash on her arm. Her husband frowned, gently kissing a few of the scars away,
but she didn’t seem to particularly notice as her eyes and mind wandered.
“I was wrong,” she whispered, “turns out that he will not be a goner the moment
the bullet hits him. Quite disappointing, don’t you think?”
Rhys gave her a curt nod. “A bit odd that I could only beat him while he had
your wand.” He gave the blackthorn stick back to his wife, who eyed it with
interest before putting it in her pocket. “It was almost as if it wanted you
back.”
Dagareth was still bleeding, and Ksenia called for an official ceasefire – Rhys
did not miss the immense pleasure her distraught expression gave Lena – as
Healers began to tend to him. Lena rolled her eyes, mumbling something about
not knowing where to lose, but her eyes were drooping.
“Of course my wand wants me back, Rhys,” Lena said, “I wouldn’t want to be
anywhere near the man if I could bear it.”
Rhys frowned, “You still haven’t told me how that happened, by the way. How you
switched wands.”
“That’s not important,” Lena sighed, “because now, we know two very important
pieces of information. One, there is a mole amongst us – perhaps several. Two,
we haven’t quite purged the earth of his horcruxes yet.”
“You checked all of Europe though, right?”
“Obviously,” Lena scoffed, her tone acerbic and eyes barely moving from the
Lestrange women surrounding their patriarch, “I believe I wasn’t meticulous
enough in my efforts to destroy them all. I thought I had, but I was clearly
mistaken.” The corners of her lips twitched upwards. Her voice lowered as she
spoke her next sentences. “But now we have an inside man. We can cover far more
ground now that we have someone with unrestricted access to the Lestrange
Empire.”
“You’re going to release him, Le? I don’t think that’s wise.”
“We’re going to have to sooner or later, whether we like it or not. We take
care of our toys, remember?”
Ksenia called Lena’s maiden name as a grunt, her face back to the steely
resolve that most of the older generations often referred to as an Uchitel
glare. “I must go,” the Light Queen declared in a dark tone, chuckling, “it’s
not so often that the Dark Lady waits for me and not vice versa.”
As the two women began to walk towards Linnanmäki Park, Rhys remembered what
Frodo said about the battle changing everything. He didn’t count on it being
him  who was the catalyst for that change, and he only hoped that things got
brighter from here.
***** 4A: October - November 2080 *****
Chapter Summary
     “It’s Halloween,” Cordelia said, looking at her clock, “they’ve been
     negotiating for six hours.”
     “There have been sex sessions longer than this, Cordelia. Be
     patient,” Kait huffed, her feet propped up on a cushion.
Chapter Notes
     i'm on chapter 23 and i'm proud of myself
00.00 October 31st: Helsinki, Finland
“It’s Halloween,” Cordelia said, looking at her clock, “they’ve been
negotiating for six hours.”
“There have been sex sessions longer than this, Cordelia. Be patient,” Kait
huffed, her feet propped up on a cushion. The Bellamy twin blushed, and the
woman scoffed. “The armistice between the two old Koreas took over two years to
be negotiated, so I don’t think the fate of Finland can be decided in a couple
of hours.”
“But there’s not much to decide,” Cornelia replied, crossing her ankles. She
hissed in pain as Chara continued to dab Dittany on her arms but continued to
prattle on. “The Lestranges have used most of Finland’s money before the War to
fund their army and whatever it is has gone on in the Empire. Not much leaves
Finland in the last twenty years other than highly educated wizards for the
Empire and not much has entered either. The people are rioting, and their
loyalty towards the family is shaky at best, and from the headlines Lena has
shown us during the briefing they prefer someone with actual Finnish blood to
rule over them, by that I mean her, obviously. It would be foolish for the
Lestranges to keep Finland at this point.”
Chara Bellamy kissed her niece’s forehead, and Cordelia scowled at the action.
“Well done,” she whispered. Turning to the Interrogation Leader, the woman
said, “Though Cai Liang has made some excellent points, we both know that it
would be more complicated than that.”
Kait snickered, “Of course it would be. You think that Lena and I have
explosive arguments? Wait ‘til you see what’s going on in that park.” She
tsked. “Don’t let the lack of flashy lights fool you, kids. The place is chock-
full of tension. They did date in fifth year, after all.” She burst into peals
of laughter, and was not deterred by Vanka’s stony gaze.
“Äiti  didn’t date Donnica’s mother,” she countered, though she sounded too
resigned for it to be any sort of real protest, “it was just speculation
because they spent so much time fighting and stuff. She said they were always
trying to outdo each other during their OWL year.”
“Not  just  during their OWL year,” the Hrabrost alumna corrected, “it’s
miraculous that Valerie Greenway managed to survive being in the same dorm as
them.”
Frodo knocked in the front of their tent, and when Kait nodded he entered,
sitting cross-legged next to his wife. “I gave Nick and Ashley some time to be…
alone.” At his wife’s sudden smirk he quickly interjected, “Vanka and Ellie are
both in the tent with them, and they’re playing cards – “
“Exploding Snap?” Cordelia interrupted, eyes beaming.
Frodo nodded.
The twins immediately stood from their places and tried to find their friends.
Cordelia immediately rushed for the gate while Cornelia limped behind her. They
were soon gone from the tent, leaving the three adults on their own. Chara sat
on a chair, observing the numerous potions she had on her desk and putting them
in an arbitrary order only she could understand.
“I think we should start training Cordelia in Interrogation,” Kait said
casually. She did not dismiss the way Chara’s head whipped around quickly the
moment she said her niece’s name. “I should’ve told you that both Haze, Luke,
and Cordelia gave their okays a while ago.”
“Did they?” Frodo frowned, though his eyes didn’t seem to cloud in the
slightest, “I didn’t know that.”
“That’s good for her,” Chara said, her voice slicing the tension in half. “The
Interrogation Division is a bit difficult to get into, isn’t it?”
“It is, yes.” Kait was surprised she’d asked that question at all; Chara’s
mother had led the team before her demise and her stringent recruiting policies
for the Interrogation Department. “The standards are quite high, you know. She
has quite the talent in Occlumency.”
“Of course,” the woman quipped, swiping a stray black curl away from her face.
“I’m sure my mother’s Feng Shui exercises have helped you on your Occlumency
techniques as an adult. These same methods have been ingrained in Cai Liang
since birth, of course she has talent.”
Frodo quirked an eyebrow. “Yet she’s working under the Science Division,
despite her obvious talent in the subject. Her aptitude test results for the
position were phenomenal, but her best results were for the Interrogation
Department.” He cleared his throat as he Summoned a glass of water. “I noticed
that in the end of the application form, you didn’t sign it.”
“What are you getting at, Frodo?”
“I’m saying that you don’t want her in Interrogation, Chara. You know that
Cordelia thinks highly enough of you to put you down as her trusted advisor
during the training program.”
Exhaling a sigh, Chara straightened her back. “It’s not safe to put her there.
She’s a young soul that wants what the heart wants. There are horrors beyond
what any of us can comprehend in people.”
“She survived today pretty well,” Kait said, patting the woman’s back, “and
it’s as bad as it gets. I’m going to at least give you time to reconsider. It
might be terrifying, but it looks like something she could really excel at. It
could be her calling. And you know all about that don’t you, Miss Guns Galore
Bellamy?”
Chara gave her a warm laugh, “Perhaps.”
===============================================================================
 
01.30 November 1st: Helsinki, Finland
Ellie was still recovering from the battle. Though she was glad that her ear
had healed, she had to turn away from the several  Lumos Maximas  Ashley had
cast to light up the tent. At least Vanka had the strength to cast a few
warming charms on both of them while Nick, Ashley and Ineesa were laid out like
enchiladas across them: a trio of bagworms wrapped in fresh, warm blankets.
“I can’t sleep,” the blonde said, “can you?”
“Not really,” Ellie replied honestly, her mind still wandering towards Jarlan’s
earlier attack on her. Something about it made her feel so  alive,  and though
her skin was still crawling with his touch and flush with his words, she felt
like she was glowing. Beneath her eyelids, there must’ve been another pair of
eyes because there was no way she could feel so alive in battle. “I feel tired,
but at the same time – “
“ – I feel you,” Vanka breathed, reaching across the gap between them and
squeezing her hand. The blonde’s hand was too cold, and it immediately sent
shivers up Ellie’s spin. “I feel like if I sleep, I can see what happened today
all over again but if I stay up, I don’t have to.”
Ellie hummed in agreement. “What happened to you? Did you see Donnica?”
“No.” Her reply was too quick, a staccato in her usual legato speech. “I
didn’t.”
The Healer trainee knew better than to press for more details from her best
friend. They would come eventually, sometimes as a blizzard and sometimes a
drizzle, but the details always came out. All it would take was several shots
of Russian water and a particularly shitty night (which did not include
tonight) for her to spill her secrets. “Okay,” was all she could say, the word
hesitant on her lips.
She could feel the blonde’s body curl around hers, her arm curled around her
waist. It was a positioned they’d adopted as young children, and Ellie found
comfort in the bear hugs and how Vanka’s shallow breaths reminded her of her
existence as she slept. “You know that I would do anything for you, right?” she
questioned, her voice frail, hanging by a thread.
“Of course,” Ellie responded, her tone firm, “and I for you.” Her umber palm
reached for a milky one, and she gave it a light squeeze. “I love you the
most.”
“I love you too.”
“Even more than Taden, your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Not more, but different. Philia for you, eros for him.”
Ellie swore that there was a staccato there, hidden in the quick tempo of her
speech, but she was far too physically fatigued and magically exhausted to
overanalyse everything her best friend was saying. Besides, her mind was put to
far better use wondering why Jarlan Lestrange – her childhood crush and
lifelong enemy by pure association – would go anywhere near her.
The most troubling thing of all, perhaps, was because Ellie already knew the
answer.
“Good night,” Vanka said, drawing the silence to a close.
“Good night,” Ellie replied.
She could feel Vanka’s grip tighten around her – not too much, but enough to
create a space between them that was theirs and no one else’s. It felt nice,
frankly, and she knew that at least, for now, she was in her best friend’s
arms: someone that had loved her unconditionally since they were babies,
someone who stuck with her regardless of who she loves, someone she knew she
was stupid not to keep until the very end.
We could be like Mum and Haze,  she thought, though she did remember that they
had dated once. Her face frowned as she settled on other examples.  Kait and Le
– no, they liked each other once apparently. Not at the same time, but still.
Kait and Lora. Yeah, that seems more like it.
===============================================================================
 
12.00 November 1st: Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Southern France
The first thing that Taden noticed about the school was how  bright  it was.
Not in a light sort of way – though there were plenty of chandeliers for him to
make  that  conclusion – but in the way that the uniforms were robin’s egg blue
and laughter was the background music in every corridor.
Taden’s French was still shit – a fact that everyone could agree on – and he
was thankful that he at least got to give his portion of the talk in Russian
with Jakob and Julian by his side to translate everything. He’d pored over
every word, wondering what words would get the so-called flighty Beauxbatons to
stop their chatter and listen to what he had to say. Though France had more
problems dealing with foreigners than it did with blood purity, they had been
suspiciously quiet about the whole matter despite providing financial
assistance to the Light.
“There is no such thing as too many voices speaking for the same cause,” Dylan
had said, “what matters more is see how many voices use themselves to make sure
that they fight for it.”
They reached what Taden thought was their rendition of the Great Hall before
the morning classes began. The chandeliers drooped from the walls dangerously
close to the heads of the students, and though there was a definite housing
system, the divide wasn’t as obvious as it was in Hogwarts, but still not so
blurred as Durmstrang, as everyone just sat with whoever they please. He hoped
that at least their alliances at their age didn’t result in the death and
finality his did.
Though Durmstrang and Docentribis required students to understand the
scientific well enough to write a simple lab report, Beauxbatons took it a step
further, and their pragmatic approach to subjects made it easy for Taden to
write his portion of the speech. He could easily skimp on the simple stuff and
get right into the nitty gritty of things – just the way he liked it.
A girl on the far right of the room winked at him, but he knew it probably
meant nothing. Julian had warned him of certain girls’ flirtatious natures
ahead of time, and the key was not to make eye contact. Taden smiled at the
girl as warmly as he could, though his eyes skirted hers and onto the clock on
the wall behind her.
Taden exhaled as he and Dylan settle themselves at the dais in front of the
room. All two-thousand of France’s finest students were here. He could feel his
fingers clamouring for something to hold, to fiddle with just to take his mind
off the proceedings. Dylan’s smooth tenor washed over the room like the ocean:
deep and comforting and gentle, coaxing the attention of most in the room.  Of
course it would,  Taden thought . For them, having two Russian scientists
fighting in a goddamn war visit them personally is big.
His shaky French and his uncanny memory allowed him to decipher the gist of his
mentor’s spiel. They  did  it, Dylan said, they isolated the gene that
separated Muggles and Wizards. It was a game of chance, and every time a child
with magical genes were born Fate throws dice in the air and decides whether it
was to hold a wand or not, yet over the past twenty years the Lestrange family
and their allies have murdered over two million Muggles for this.
Maybe it had been Dylan’s charm, or the way he composed himself, or the way he
spat out numbers at every given opportunity, but Taden could see the horror
inflicted in some of their faces. Other than the devastating battle that took
place in the French capital four years prior, the hexagon had been relatively
immune to the effects of the Army.
“We are not trying to prove one is superior to the other,” Dylan spoke, his
tone a fresh breath of air from stuffy professors who had only a piece of
parchment to prove their Mastery, “we just want to prove a point. A point that
the fight in the East has been centered around. We have recreated the Iron
Curtain the Muggles fought ceaselessly to tear down, and I suggest we do the
same.
“Stand your ground. Fight for what is right. We do not ask you to fight for us
because we do not need to lose any more lives. Just stand behind us, and when
the time comes, we promise to protect you like we did four years ago.”
There was a wave of approval before Dylan continued. Taden had never been made
aware of his mentor’s public speaking chops and though he did not expect the
speeches to be anywhere as good as Frodo’s, this one came pretty damn close. It
was clear that the man knew how to command the crowd: whether this came from
ruling Durmstrang in his schooldays with his friends are unknown.
Once Dylan’s speech ended and Taden took the stage, only then was he made aware
of how often his eye twitched and how his hands trembled and how his knees
wobbled under the weight of the words he had yet to give. The first motion of
his mouth was only to form an affirmative that he was to begin.
Did Taden give a halfway decent speech? He didn’t know. By the time he
delivered his conclusion, he’d forgotten his opening sentence.
===============================================================================
 
19.00 November 1st: Nice, France
As cold as Jakob complained it was, Dylan found it hot – almost feverishly so.
He found himself sweating in his capris, taking a drag of yet another cigarette
and pretending that Lora was in the chair next to him, shaking her head.
Instead it was Taden, who was still asleep after tea, his beer lukewarm and his
mouth either wide open or mumbling his wife’s name. The boy could not get
enough sleep, Dylan’s mind flashing back to a day several months before. The
pair had pulled off an all-nighter and Taden had not resurfaced from the land
of the dead for all of twelve hours afterwards. He had gotten much better since
then, but the memory of said night would forever amuse him.
He wondered how Ashley was doing in Helsinki. Nothing in his heart betrayed the
fact that she was dead or seriously injured, but the fact that Lora hadn’t
found it necessary to contact him through a two-way mirror, always hidden in
his breast pocket.
The little trinket managed to worm its way into his life during one of his
mother’s impulsive visits to Hogsmeade visiting some friend or other. He’d been
traipsing around the town in solitude when he’d bumped into the piece of glass
on the shop window of none other than Dervish and Banges. He’d gotten the piece
of glass, Geminio’d it, and gave the other piece to Lora at the earliest
opportunity. It was one thing that reminded him she was real during the long
summer holidays, the long journeys away from her (this was the one trip she
actually stuck to Lena’s advice to  not  speak to him) and so, so much more.
Currently, the mirror was as cold as the Russian winter. That made something in
Dylan’s throat catch.
Jakob, who had chosen to be relatively silent at that point – thank Merlin –
took a sip of his beer and slid back into the chair next to Dylan. “I’m
surprised we haven’t heard anything from Finland,” he remarked, “I thought my
sister would be arm deep in news in a Floo call at some point today, but to be
fair, it’s  Helsinki.  We’d be mad if we thought it wouldn’t last for a couple
of days,  at least.”
“True,” he replied, “but we have many allies there. I’m sure that will help.”
“Everyone likes a little bit of Jurgen Aigner in their lives,” Jakob quipped.
“The man is as resourceful as he is funny. I can see why Vorstenbach took to
him quickly at school.” He turned to the sea. “Do you have any more smokes?”
Dylan searched his pockets, and shook his head when he had no luck. “Sadly, no.
I think Rousseau took the rest. Insisted that I shouldn’t smoke around Ondrea
or she’ll go ballistic. Or was it Alaina?”
“Probably Alaina.” Jakob leaned back further in his seat, and it was only by
the grace of magic that the seat was literally charmed not to fall. “So, funny
how life has turned out, huh?”
“Oh Merlin, not  another  philosophical dilemma.”
“But don’t you find it amusing Vorstenbach and Sokol are still in their little
spat from when they were still at school, only on a much larger scale,
Vorstenbach and Edmunds are still a thing, you and McCall are  still  a thing,
same goes for Sokol and Lestrange, Merkulov and Grayson comma Kaitlen, Grayson
comma Iris and Tshering, Prentiss and – “
“Prentiss and  who?”
“O’Malley.” Dylan raised his brow at his friend’s observation. “I heard that he
and O’Malley are sort of, maybe in a relationship. They have definitely
consummated it, that’s for sure.”
“I damn well hope they’ve consummated their relationship or Alex Cartwright’s
existence would be a lie.” He scoffed. “Of course I know Prentiss and O’Malley
are in a relationship, but I just find it… interesting.”
“What?”
“Prentiss and O’Malley.  Again.  After twenty years, a marriage, children, and
war. It almost sounds like fate brought them back together.”
“Merlin, Jakob. You can’t be  serious.  Are you saying that you believe in
fate?”
“I’m just saying considering their history and Prentiss’s previous
relationships, it’s interesting to see them back together again.” Jakob
smirked. “Ten Galleons that O’Malley will be up the doss at the end of the
year, or be Mrs. Prentiss, or both.”
“You can’t actually bet over something as stupid as this.”
“Coward, Dylan? Then I’ll do it,” Taden said, smirking.
===============================================================================
 
November 2nd: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Meeting Room #5
Finland wore its native blue and white that day. The television – which was
essentially an upgraded model of the whiteboard – showed several aerial shots
of the destroyed city slowly being rebuilt. In the centre of it all, Jurgen
Aigner was limping with Topias by his side, functioning as his crutch as his
was being created in the makeshift hospital.
Lena’s grin was contagious; Kait and Lora were laughing over some inside jokes,
Anya and Rhys were in a particularly amusing game of Monopoly that she was also
taking part in, and even Frodo sported a small smile as he sipped his glass of
wine. It had been a small victory, yes, but any victory was a good one, and the
Light Queen knew that such happiness would not last for long.
Anya’s brown curls were in a loose bun as she rolled the dice, getting a four.
 The hat skipped across the board, landing on Mayfair. She hitched her breath
as she immediately put it up for auction; there was little doubt that she’d win
the game considering she had most of the colours under her belt.
Lena immediately exclaimed ‘a thousand’ before Rhys could say anything. He then
doubled the value, a thin smirk playing on his lips before she doubled that.
After saying that Rhys would pay sixteen thousand pounds for Mayfair, Anya said
that she was sure that there wasn’t enough money in the set for that, so Lena
wandlessly duplicated her money until the pile of paper filled half the table
and she shoved the money towards her best friend.
Rhys let out a low whistle at the amount. “You are a  cheater.”
She stuck her tongue out towards him. “Did you really expect me to play fair
the entire time?”
“I had hoped you would, but I know better.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss
atop her forehead. “Oi, Frodo! You owe me five Galleons.”
As if on cue, Ana started crying in the corner of the room, and as Frodo was
busy tossing the Galleon into the air, Lena caught it in her palm and pocketed
it before lifting her baby from her cradle and shushed it to sleep. “Ana
doesn’t like it when you make bets against Äiti,” she whispered, cooing at her
daughter. The baby continued to cry, and the blonde cocked an eyebrow, her gaze
flicking back and forth between the two men.
“You think we’re really going to stop making bets against you?” Frodo mused,
throwing the Galleon like a dart in the ginger’s direction. “I wish we could,
Le, but all of this is just so Rhys and I can try and predict your reactions to
various stimuli.”
“I’m your husband, and I find a lot of the results are inconclusive,” Rhys
frowned, “if you weren’t such a stickler to scientific integrity I would say
you were  purposely sabotaging  the experiment.”
“Can you both shush?” Lena frowned, turning her attention back to Ana.
The ginger rolled his eyes at her dismissal. “Merlin, Le. You  have  to stop
using our child as your shield every time we so much as disagree with – “
As her child began to wail again, the blonde began whispering endearments to
her, humming a lullaby once she found that it was not enough. Ana did manage to
sleep soon after, and after planting a kiss to the girl’s forehead, the Light
Queen found a chair to temporarily transfigure into a cot and placed her child
there, summoning a cushion and turning a pen into a quilt.
“You’re a natural,” Rhys smiled. He kissed his wife on the cheek, earning him a
smidge of a blush from the woman. “Though we still have to talk about not
raising our daughter to be her mother’s shield.”
“She’ll be that and more,” Lena said. Once she was certain that their child was
drifting on the dreamtrails, she abruptly announced in the middle of Lora’s
turn, “What do we do next?”
“Lena, please, not now – “
“Three days is plenty of time to catch our breath. We need to start planning
our next move.”
“Helsinki was on the edge of disastrous. We need time to recuperate.” Frodo did
not let his gaze move from the Queen. “We’re tired, Lena. Please – “
“I’m tired too,” the blonde said. Next to her, Rhys took her hands within his.
“But the Lestranges have just lost a large chunk of their territory. They’ll be
restless, so even if we’re tired, it  doesn’t fucking matter . We can’t afford
to be.” She stood, rapping her knuckles on a wall to reveal a drawer filled
with Aubrey Yusikova’s owls. “No news regarding the Dark Army yet. They’re are
taking the loss hard, but I assure you that they will find their way of
retaliating. Lora – have you spoken to Dylan at all?”
“You said not to – “
“I know him, and I know you.”
Lora sighed, her lids hanging heavily. “No, I haven’t, actually.”
Lena smiled, gently massaging her friend’s shoulder. Lora turned to face her
friend, and the two women shared a curt nod. “Tell him everything you deem
necessary. I trust you.”
===============================================================================
 
07.00 November 3rd: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Room 5
Two decades prior, Chuck would’ve said that he was a man ruled by lust. The
same still holds true, but his experiences from being away from his lover for
weeks on end made him appreciate the little things. The small things. The
specks of dust.
Dommi was curled up into a ball, her back facing him, the shallow heave of her
chest signalling her position: still stuck in the Dreamlands, as per. The woman
was too exhausted, only taking brief naps in between taking care of the
patients from Helsinki and being the only one who knew Muggle psychology well
enough to perform the required psychological evaluations on everyone. At least
Ellie had escaped the battle unharmed, though Chuck noticed the invisible
battle scars she wore on her head.
The brunet brushed a curl of Dommi’s hair behind her ear, pressing his lips to
a place right beneath her earlobe. Her hand reached up to brush his, motioning
it and his head away to turn around and face him.  She looked so peaceful in
sleep,  he thought,  though the moment she wakes she’ll scream when she
realises she got drool all over my shirt.
Dommi mumbled several words, none of which Chuck could hear. He asked her to
repeat it again. She repeated it, this time louder, and the man could still not
hear it. One arm outstretched, the woman grumbled and tried to push him away,
but his arms had a bad habit of being gangly so he reached around her arm and
laced his hands on her waist and he began tickling her.
She shrieked, jolting into a sitting position almost immediately and taking the
pillow behind her to whip it onto Chuck’s chest. He laughed, still tickling her
even though she squirmed to break free. Her hands managed to latch onto his
wrist and pushed them away, sticking her tongue out in victory.
“You’re awful,” she said, pouting.
Charles sat up, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “And good morning to you too,
sweetheart.” He performed a Tempus Charm, frowning when he realised the sun had
not yet risen. “Though going by the looks of things, I’d rather go to bed.”
In contrast, Dommi gasped and almost jumped out of the bed. “Oh Merlin, I have
to go back to work, Pitsunov is still in critical condition – “
“Lena gave you the day off, remember?”
“I know, but I happen to be the only one in this goddamn camp who knows how to
heal him. Ellie still can’t grasp the basic fundamentals of – “
“Shhh.” Chuck’s finger rested gently on his girlfriend’s lips. Their focus both
turned to it, their eyes flickering downwards before returning to each other’s.
“You need a break, Dommi. You won’t be considered fit enough to Heal when you
overexert yourself. You’re also underestimating your daughter. She managed to
survive Paris, didn’t she? Helsinki would’ve been a piece of cake.”
“Perhaps,” Dommi said, her tone wavering, her mezzosoprano voice a lot less
soprano than it usually was. “Besides, Ellie’s smart, isn’t she? I think she
can understand… uh, whatever it was I was going to heal Pitsunov with, pretty
quickly.”
“Adder’s fork Draught.”
“Yeah. That.”
Charles grinned, Summoning a jug of water and a pair of wine glasses to him.
After pouring a glass for his girlfriend, he poured one for himself, letting
the water wash the morning breath away as he drank. When they were done, the
former Hitrost leaned over to kiss Dommi on the cheek. She giggled. “You’re
docile this morning, Prentiss.”
“It’s the first time we’ve been alone in broad daylight in  two days,”  he
mused with all the petulance of a small child, “and last night was awesome… and
all the times before that – “
“I hope so – “
“But I never really got to talk to you the way we used to.”
Dommi snorted. “We never really  talked,  Chuck. It was never really our
thing.”
“I know, but things have made me think,  ‘Why?’  What is so  difficult  about
talking that makes it difficult to speak to anyone about anything? Okay, not
quite, I do have a tendency to ramble.”
“You don’t say.” Dommi leaned on his shoulder, her hand reaching up to stroke
his cheek. “Okay then, Prentiss. Let’s talk, preferably without all of the
fancy wand waving this time.”
The brunet shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what to say, in all honesty.
Ask me anything."
Dommi raised a brow. “Anything?”
“Anything that tickles your fancy. Might as well make this an Honesty Hour or
something.”
The ex-Slushatel frowned, taking her time before she finally said something.
“You know, I’m sure you’re bound not to say anything but a blood oath about
what happened in Russia and East Ukraine, but what happened?”
Running his hands through his hair, Charles blew a low whistle. “You do like
asking the hard questions, don’t you?”
“I do. Surprised they haven’t tried my hand at Interrogation yet, honestly.”
“You’d be pretty fucking good.”
“I know, but we both know where I stand with hurting people.” She said, “So,
what was it like to live under Daggerbutt? Our information  says  things when
they stop by, but they never  say  things.”
The brunet understood. He had an inkling on who this informant was, and had
always did since it was part of his job description, but refused to let Dommi
know that he knew far more than they thought he did just by being here.
“Understandable,” he said eventually, “it’s not a peachy life, living under his
thumb.”
“Though I can’t quite imagine it being the hellfire that Lena makes it out to
be.”
“Not that either, no.” Charles fought back a smile as he thought of them, and
Dommi pretended she couldn’t see. “Awful things happen: there aren’t any laws
on experimentation, so children get experimented on all the time, and there’s a
lot of crime and necromancy what with the Volans still ranking highly on the
Lestrange hierarchy for  whatever  reason.
“At the same time, it’s amazing, seeing magic being pushed to its boundaries.
New spells are being made all the time, and old ones are being rediscovered.
I’m sure the Light Queen is doing plenty of research on her own, but it’s one
thing to  hear  about these things and another thing to see it being done in
person.”
Dommi nodded slowly, and he knew that as much as she wanted to, begged to, she
wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. Never could and never would. “Did –
did you find anything new?” she asked, brown eyes glowing.
Charles shook his head. “I’m not capable of doing so. I’m just Idiot Prentiss,
remember?”
And so Dommi continued asking questions, and Charles continued to answer.
Merlin hoped he wasn’t completely lying to her by leaving icebergs out of his
stories because no decent human being deserved to hear them, and she was far
too decent, too kind, too morally bound to understand everything, to understand
why, yet this was the most honest the man felt he’d been to her in the entire
time they’ve known each other.
He wasn’t sure if this was something to be celebrated, but he supposed there
were worse things to be than dishonest.
***** 4B: November 2080 + November 2065 *****
Chapter Summary
     “War isn’t like our menstrual cycles. You can’t just ask – “
Chapter Notes
     yeaaahhhhhh boiiiiii
06.00 November 13th, Year 20: 16ème arrondissement, Paris, France
Taden could feel the winter chill beginning to seep into his bones as he stood
on the balcony. Sure it was France, and it would never be as cold as he was
used to, but it felt more like home and the world became  that  much more
bearable.
He missed Vanka. It was a bloody obvious statement, but one that refused to
leave his head. She was not the most loving, doting or even the most sensitive
wife, but she understood. She was the only person as cold as he was, but
infinitely more beautiful and a lot less charismatic and did not push more than
necessary. She laughed at his jokes, did not make the ridiculous statements
about his beauty to his face or behind his back he’d seen Ellie did about
Jarlan numerous times, and knew how to hold him when the nightmares went black.
Plus, she was ridiculously hot when she got angry.
He’d written a novel and a half to her during his time away, knowing that she
wouldn’t care to hear about half or even most of the details, but because he
knew that these words meant something. If anything should happen to him – when
anything happened to him, there would be evidence that whatever he did  worked.
He did not fail her.
The blond performed a Tempus Charm and drew a long breath when he realised that
he had only sustained sleep for four hours before he left his bed. No matter
how many nights he had to get used to sleep without his wife’s arm draped
across his waist, it was a fact his body refused to get used to. Also, he just
felt uneasy. Almost ridiculously, irrationally so.
Taden resigned himself to checking on the wards Julian and Jakob had so
tirelessly set up around the flat. He made quick work of it, though he wished
that he knew better, quicker, more thorough spells than the ones he did know.
Magic was a thing constantly expanding and growing, and the development of
magic in both empires were so rapid not even a weekly subscription of newly-
published journals could help him keep up. He placed his wand in his jeans and
returned to the flat.
Dylan was about to leave when he returned. “Can’t sleep, Taden?” he asked.
“Not really,” the blond replied. “I – The wards on this flat are sound, if
you’re still wondering.” He tilted his head. “Is there anything wrong, Dylan?”
His supervisor chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “I hope the wards are
sound, considering Julian and Jakob are both capable wizards.” He shook his
head. “No, not at all. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that Lora… she calledme using
the mirror.” 
Taden audibly gasped. “Did she actually?”
“Last night,” Dylan confirmed, “she… she told me…  everything.”
Taden rushed to his side, “Oh Merlin. Helsinki. Is – is Vanka al – “
“Vanka’s fine. Ashley’s fine.” He took a deep breath. “Everyone is fine.” He
embraced Taden, patting his head. “We have Finland now. The pamphlets – they
worked,  Taden.  They worked.”
The blond could almost scream with joy as he tightened his embrace with his
mentor, letting a tear run down his cheek before releasing himself. “Merlin –
did we actually do it?”
“We have a million miles to go,” Dylan said, his tone steady and cautious as
always, “but yeah, I suppose we did.”
Did you hear that, Vanka? We made it.
Taden’s smile lit up significantly in the moonlight. “I – we have plans, right?
We can’t just stop here, not while everything is going well.” 
“Julian had the idea of sending them to areas in the States and Asia where
there are high concentrations of European wizards that emigrated during the
War. He hoped that maybe them coming back and helping us with the effort would
help us with numbers. If even ten percent have a strong nostalgia for the
Motherland as you do, that’s a huge boost right there.” 
“Numbers? I wasn’t aware we had a problem.”
“Kait rambled about that for a bit, but that’s a story for another time.” Dylan
patted his protégé on the shoulder. “I really am proud of you, Taden. Seven
years of that awful Docentribis curriculum and you’ve proven yourself somewhat
competent as a scientist.”
“A bit difficult to satisfy your standards when I don’t have a Mastery yet.”
“If the War ever ends, I’ll see to it that you do.”
Taden could feel the hair hitting his face from the breeze which soon began
picking up speed. His breaths grew quicker as it brought his mind to another
place, another time –
He froze, trying not to let the panic show on his face. It took him seconds to
realise that he was twenty and not sixteen, married and a scientist with a
foothold in life. Staring up at Dylan, who merely nodded, the blond took his
wand out of his pocket and began casting protective shield charms around the
apartment. When the wind abruptly stopped, his hand still hovering in mid-air,
Taden retreated until he could feel splinters from the door stabbing his back.
Perhaps his imagination had been overacting again. He hoped to Merlin that it
was his imagination.
The wind started again, but Taden could feel that he was ready this time. His
breaths were still shaky and the flashbacks would constantly taunt his brain,
but he had been a soldier once and he would do it again if he needed to. The
cost of his life didn’t matter, because as long as Dylan and Julian and Jakob
and  Vanka  were safe, he’d do anything, kill anyone, because Merlin knows his
soul was already tainted. So deliciously, darkly tainted.
A crow smashed headfirst into the wards, shattering them like glass. 
===============================================================================
 
November 4th, Year 5: Donetsk, East Ukraine and Volgograd, Russia
Charles drew in a breath as he examined the city – or rather, the town of
rubble that it had been reduced to. It was still as important as it was when it
was ruled by Muggles, but he highly doubted it was because it was the melting
point for all sorts of unsavoury Potions enthusiasts to meet up across Dark
Army territory. 
The former Hitrost was at one of the city’s more well-lit pubs, though calling
it ‘well-lit’ was a compliment worthy of the Dark Lady. He had ordered a shot
of Ogden’s – the rarest shot in the territory since Britain and Ireland had
declared it an enemy – and waited patiently for his contact to arrive. Other
than a picture of the man and a description of a time and place, he didn’t have
much to go on.
Dagareth had sent him to work on some assignment concerning Potions ingredients
supplies, and the sightings of a few Army members that went missing. They said
that Mironenko and Oleynik had been missing for the past several weeks, but
Charles had met both of them on separate occasions the day prior. Perhaps they
had reasons for lying low – the Light Side had a tendency of making people do
that when they captured them – but they had failed to report to the Dark Lord
and that was unforgivable.
Today’s meeting was with a man who was known only as Ablorde, a Beauxbatons
graduate who was the only link between Eastern Europe and Africa. African
Lizards had been the new craze for Potions enthusiasts – particularly in
Odessa, where a potion rumoured to expand bones until infinity was being
researched – and Dagareth required strong links and an agreement between
himself and the shipping company to be made as soon as possible.
Charles wasn’t sure why  he  had been the one given the task at all, in all
honesty. He wasn’t known being a negotiator – he was far too awkward and lacked
the finesse and knowledge of the Lestrange accounts Montague and Karl von
Bergen had – and he knew that Ablorde had dealt with his father in the past. He
sure hoped that the man didn’t expect him to be suave, socially comfortable
demeanour his father had.
After all, sons were never their fathers.
Charles checked his watch and pretended not to be ridiculously peeved when he
saw the man was running late. If Ablorde was going to deal with supplies right
under the Dark Lord’s thumb, surely he should know better than to have
tardiness as a character trait? The brunet wrote the observation down
regardless, not knowing if he or the man was going to be punished for it.
He had spent much too long dwelling on his thoughts he almost escaped the man
sliding into the seat next to him. “I must apologise for my delay,” Ablorde
said, and a brief flicker into the man’s eyes told Charles he was being
genuine. “I was dealing with one of the Bass siblings, who were unfortunately
late themselves. Again, I apologise.” He drew a sigh of relief. “Good thing
it’s you and not part of the Inner Circle.”
Charles gave him a tight-lipped smile. Must everyone underestimate him? He had
a reputation for being an idiot, but he wasn’t sorted into Hitrost – and a
fully trained Prentiss, despite appearances and knowledge to the contrary – for
nothing. “Indeed,” the brunet said, “I could have been a member of the Inner
Circle, or I could have been my sister, Millicent.”
Millicent may not have left Durmstrang yet, but Charles was thankful that the
rest of the world will soon find her as terrifying as he did. Word of her deeds
have clearly spread to Ablorde’s circle, as his eyes widened when he mentioned
her. “So you’re  that  Prentiss’s son?”
“Yes,” Charles said, taking a sip of what must have been his third or fourth
shot of Firewhiskey of the day, “and you know what they say: the apple does not
fall far from the tree.”
The rest of the meeting continued as per: with Charles holding leverage over
leverage over leverage (for a simple merchant, Ablorde had a lot to hide –
though the same could be said for Charles himself) over the man to get him to
give in to Dagareth’s demands. The two-hour meeting was over in the blink of an
eye, and since he was ahead of schedule the former Hitrost decided to treat
himself by Apparating back to Volgograd, where he would be stationed for the
next several months.
His mind still sober, Charles decided to head back to his modest apartment,
built by the last of the Muggles who resided in the area before Dagareth and
his lackeys had murdered them all. He made himself a cup of coffee and picked
up his violin, using a variety of cleaning charms to get the muck and dust from
its surface and inside the body.
It had been years since the former Hitrost had thought of it, let alone touched
it. The War left him no time for pleasure. It didn’t grant him love,
friendship, or companionship. Even he himself wondered if life’s most
fulfilling emotions had been evading him, or had it been vice versa. Either
way, he was far too busy to concern himself with the answer.
Still, he had the evening off, and other than the fact that the D-string was in
urgent need of replacement, his violin was otherwise okay. It had been made by
a wizard back in his third year of Durmstrang – when girls fawning over him was
still his biggest concern and he still played daily – and was made with
Canadian maple for the soundboard and poplar for the back. The pegs, now stiff
and stony, had once been the easiest pegs he’d ever had the pleasure of
turning. It took him a solid ten minutes to tune his violin to his standards
and began to play Song of a Secret Garden. 
Thankfully, Charles was not completely out of touch with the former love of his
life, though he berated himself with how shrill his violin sounded. He exhaled,
put his violin back in its case and zipped it up again. Only then did he
remember his coffee, and he went back to the kitchen to drink it.
There was a knock on the door. No one knew Charles lived here so that
immediately roused his suspicions. He mumbled, “Homenum Revelio.” When he
realised that there was a marker beyond the door, his apprehension only
increased.
Wand at the ready, Charles opened the door. In front of him was an old woman
wrapped in so many scarves it took him a moment to register where her face was.
“So you’re the new man in the neighbourhood!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms
around him for a hug. “Maria had been going on and on about you for days. She
didn’t mention you’d be so pretty. Come, devochka! We’ve made plenty of food
for all of you newcomers. I promise they’re not poisoned.”
“Thank you, but I really don’t think that’s – “
“I insist!” The old woman grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out the door.
Merlin, what was with him and being dragged to social events by very pushy
women?
When he got to the downstairs courtyard, the desolate, grey place had been
transformed entirely. Thanks to the darkness hiding most of the repulsive
nature of the complex, the place looked more like a traditional European food
fair than the best result of Muggle slave labour. Lanterns were tacked onto the
first floor balconies, illuminating the ground red, blue and yellow. The smells
of borscht and piroshky flooded Charles’s nose. There was singing, dancing, and
upbeat chatter all around that would’ve overwhelmed him had he not had a period
of solitude to himself.
Charles greeted a few of the people surrounding him, recognising some
immediately if not in the Dark Army themselves, very strong allies. He had a
kebab, a chicken Kyiv and managed to get the last of the borscht, earning him a
very bitter look from a five-year-old. After he had his fill, he slipped away
from the festivities as quietly as he could before someone grabbed him by the
shoulder.
“Missed me, Prentiss?”
The fact that those words were spoken in German startled and relieved him.
Russian may have been his medium of instruction for the better part of a decade
and a half now, but he could never feel as comfortable in it as he did his
father tongue. Those words on their own, however, made his heart sink until he
turned to face the person that addressed him.
He cleared his throat, trying to process the information in front of him. Long
brown hair, dark brown eyes, and the moonlight illuminating her pallid skin. He
found himself unable to swallow, and whatever words sprouted out of his mouth
were incoherent at best, gibberish at worst. She raised a brow at him, saying,
“No, I didn’t expect you here either. Sokol’s doing, I presume?”
Charles shook his head. “No. Lestrange’s.” They both knew he was too stupid for
Ksenia. He took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “I thought you fled
the continent.”
“With a name like mine? No. Once I leave I can never come home. Might as well
take advantage of the opportunities already here.”
“What? You’re part of the Dark Army now?” 
She pursed her lips and exhaled heavily. “Only fools choose to take sides in
this farce of a war. Sokol is a bitch and Vorstenbach is a maniac. Both are
destined to lose.”
“How Slushatel of you,” Charles remarked grimly. He wished he had food left
because Merlin, how he’d grown to hate the feeling of having nothing to do with
his hands. “So, uh, how are you?”
“How am I, Prentiss? I’m peachy. Just peachy.” She took a step closer to him,
and he could feel her breath on his skin. “The bigger question is how are  you?
Brainwashed to fight for a man who has little regard for you or for any other
except for his wife?”
Charles’s hand began to tremble. “You think I don’t already know that? I’m just
doing what I have to do to survive.” He faltered and let his eyes meet hers. “I
too have a question for you: how on earth have you managed for the past five
years?”
“You should know from daddy dearest that there’s nothing a little money and
some fancy wand-waving won’t fix.” She gave him a feigned smile. “I hope you’ve
forgiven Fourth for what she did.”
“Who?” 
“The…  person  who attacked you on your date with Wagner. Speaking of… how is
she? And your son?”
 Shrugging his shoulders, Charles said through gritted teeth, “I’ve forgiven
her long ago and I don’t know. I haven’t seen them since the War began.”
“Pity. Perhaps if the War hadn’t begun and you hadn’t picked a side, you would
be the one painting white picket fences with her, not O’Malley.”
“Funny, considering it was never her I imagined that sort of life with,
assuming I could ever have that sort of life.” That had been the truth:
whatever romantic attachments he had for Dommi had long since disappeared. His
hand rose to touch her face, but she swatted it away. “I love you, you know.”
“Don’t fucking remind me.”
“I’m not expecting you to reciprocate. I’m not expecting you to do anything
about it because I was an awful person. You don’t have to forgive me and I’ll
understand.” He stepped away from her in the general direction of his unit. “I
wanted to see if we could be  civil,  Liddy. Merlin knows when I’ll see you
again.  If  I ever see you again. I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry.”
Charles turned away, biting his lip as he fought the urge to kiss her firmly on
the mouth. He didn’t have time to worry about her, not when there were so many
deals left to be made.
===============================================================================
06.00 November 4th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Meeting Room #5
“On a scale of one to ten, how likely do you think the mole is still alive?”
Kait asked, propping her ankles on the desk.
Lena swatted them away, rolling her eyes as her friend growled at her.
“Considering they’ve been outsmarting us for the last twenty years, maybe a
hundred.”
“We don’t actually know that they’ve been in the Side for that long,” Anya
said, “they could be a mole recently, or perhaps they’re not with us anymore
and retreated back to the Army, or maybe they could have been caught in the
crossfire and died in Helsinki.”
“Ow, Anya, those are way too many possibilities,” Lora said, grabbing her head.
“Even I’m not comfortable with that, and I think… I think we can all feel when
we’ve finally gotten rid of the mole because we’re so deep into this, you know,
and I don’t think we have.”
“Dammit,” Kait hissed. “And here I thought we didn’t have to go through
everyone in the entire goddamn Side to find out who it was.”
“What makes you think we’re going to do that?” Anya frowned. She turned to Lora
and began admiring her new haircut.
“Because Lena is Lena,” Kait murmured, tossing her hair back. The blonde in
question sighed, rolling her eyes before deciding that fighting with the former
Hrabrost was a battle waiting to be lost. “It’s not the most efficient
strategy, but it’s one that, with our screening process, be the most likely to
capture the killer. Unless of course, one or more of us Seven Devils is
compromised.”
“No one’s managed to fail any of the failsafe questions yet,” Lora observed,
taking out her notepad. “Though if it’s alright, I would like to ask you a
favour. Kait, Lena, please refrain from asking ridiculously sexual questions to
your significant others. Okay, we get it, you have a lot of sex and that’s
none of our business,  but I have a child’s naïve ear and I’d rather have it
out of earshot.”
“Says someone who was already pregnant at eighteen.”
“Let’s stop bickering for two seconds and think,” Lena announced, placing a
Muggle pen to parchment. “When did the attacks start to change in frequency?
I’m not talking about the one eighteen years ago because we ran out of ammo and
wands. I mean the ones after that.”
“War isn’t like our menstrual cycles. You can’t just ask – “
“I should clarify: when did the attacks seem more personalised, as if they knew
exactly what they were doing when they attacked us?”
“Bit difficult to tell when they’ve gone to school with you for seven years and
watched you duel for nearly as long.”
Lena exhaled in dismay. “Okay, I get it. It seems a bit pointless. But surely
there must be something that triggered it all. Something, anything…” Her hand
balled into a fist. “Twenty years is too long for a ruse. Not without getting
caught.” Here, the Light Queen paused before she continued. “Snape played both
sides for sixteen years before he got caught… actually you can argue he was
caught  before  then. The Illegals Program in Muggle USSR lasted for ages too
but loads of people got caught…”
“Wait, are we looking for one person or multiple?”
“Merlin knows.” Kait used her wand to Summon some crisps from the kitchen and
began munching on them as she began to speak. “Alternatively, someone could be
doing it at first. Then they died in battle, but by that time they’ve already
trained someone to continue their work.” She shrugged her shoulders and
continued to eat. “I’m starving.”
“That’s not a bad idea at all,” Anya agreed, her lips forming a hesitant but
small smile. “I’m surprised Yusikova being a mole hasn’t crossed their minds at
all, actually.”
“I’m sure it has, but the woman gives away nothing,” Lena said, ignoring Kait’s
open-mouthed crunching and Lora joining her to do so. Never a close friend of
the woman at school, the former Uchitel was surprised that she was still so
loyal to the cause despite everything that has occurred to her. “You can’t be
in the same country as Ksenia Sokol and ignore the fact that women are
powerful.”
“Unless you’re Jarlan Lestrange,” Kait piped in, smirking at the way her friend
wrinkled her nose at her talking, “I’ve heard  stories,  okay? He’s not much
better than either Sicarius brother, or Montague.”
“At least Lestrange didn’t do something as stupid as beat up his betrothed,”
Lora approved, “I’m surprised Montague lasted as long as he did.” She cleared
her throat, “Aside, I think we should go ahead with the original plan and
interrogate everyone. Maybe someone in this camp  knows  something, and that’s
doing a lot better than just planning chess moves no one’s going to use.”
“I’m convinced someone knows something,” Lena replied, “I’m sure of it.”
 “Whether they’ll give it up is another thing altogether.” Kait zipped the
crisp packet closed with a wave of her hand and sat up on the chair, feet
firmly on the ground. “I do have some concerns which I’d like to share with the
group. May I?” Lena gave her a curt nod. “After Finland, we’ve lost a lot of
great Interrogators and we’re lacking numbers. We need  more people,
Vorstenbach. We need more training, and more ammunition, and we need you to
start using your Illusionist abilities a tad more.”
“I thought Chara Bellamy had spoken to you about – “
“That’s  one person.  We barely have enough at Headquarters. We need an
Interrogator in all the auxiliary camps and sleeper cells. Fridolf is dying and
she’s the only Healer as good as O’Malley east of the Danube, and with the
attacks we’re supposed to be planning on East Ukraine  which we still need to
get to, by the way –  ”
“Are more attacks really necessary? We need to recover from Helsinki.”
“Still?”
“Yes!” Lora’s vehemence had begun to bubble to the surface. “We need to stop
attacking things and start strategizing  properly.  Raids are fine. Rescue
missions are fine. But entire countries are out of the question, Kait.” She
pressed a finger to Lena’s lips. “Don’t you  dare  interrupt me, Edmunds. We’re
still trying to assimilate Finland with much resistance from South Karelia as
expected and you’re  still  trying to get East Ukraine? Not on my watch.”
“Lora’s right. I’m doing a supply drop to Oulu next week,” Anya said. “I can do
a more thorough inspection of Helsinki then if you allow me to.”
“Get Aigner to go with you.” Lena commanded immediately, standing up. “You know
what? Make him come here. Kait and Frodo can get to him first. We get him
checked out and then let them go.”
The blonde strode towards the whiteboard, scribbling down a bunch of names. On
the board, familiar and unfamiliar names were etched out by the jet blank ink.
Anya tilted her head as she inspected some of them.  Chara Bellamy. Laetitia
Bellamy. Kristin Eberhart. Pierre Lamoureux. Seamus O’Malley –
“Seamus?” Lora echoed. “I thought Laetitia was ridiculous considering her
relationship with Prentiss, but Seamus – “
“Laetitia sounds like the perfect candidate, if I have to be completely
honest,” Anya said, “she could have passed down her knowledge to Chara.”
“Why not Luke?” Kait questioned.
“She simply didn’t trust him enough,” Lena replied, closing the cap on the
marker. “We all saw it at school, didn’t we? How Luke got away with fuck all
yet Chara managed to not stray one toe out of line yet everyone knew otherwise
– “
“Too many year groups between us,” Kait interrupted, “I wouldn’t have cared.
But okay, why would Laetitia Bellamy be the perfect candidate?”
“Close enough to Leon Prentiss that she would know how to carry out a long con
if she needed to, and she was apathetic about the whole cause anyway.” Lora
shook her head. “Half of these names wouldn’t even benefit the mole if they
were with the Dark Army. And wasn’t Eberhart a mole anyway?”
“She was,” Anya verified. She and the blonde leader exchanged looks, and it was
only the fact that the four women knew each other so well that this was
noticed. “I don’t think Le’s done with the diagram yet.”
“Of course she isn’t,” Kait scoffed. She waved her hand around and drew
connecting lines between the names Lena had etched on the board. Lines for
friends, dotted for family members, dashed for enemies, etcetera. “There. How’s
this for a diagram?”
Lena shook her head, closing the cap of her pen and pacing in front of the
board. “There’s still too many possibilities. I don’t like it.”
“You started a war twenty years ago over a petty argument, which  none of us
asked for, by the way , and we’re still here,” Kait spat, “we’re just going to
do the thing we all said we were going to do twenty minutes ago: we interrogate
everyone and see what we can do from there. Agreed?”
The three other women nodded firmly.
***** 4C: November 2080 + October 2072 *****
Chapter Summary
     “Though the talk at Beauxbatons seemed to have had results. Rumour
     has it there has been an influx of Scientist applications to the
     bases in Paris, Berlin and Vienna.”
     “Cool. Can we talk about that later? We’re sort of being attacked by
     Daggerbutt’s forces and this is really not the time.”
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
06.15 November 13th, Year 20: 16ème arrondissement, Paris, France
“What sort of thing can break shields like that?” Taden mused verbally, only to
switch his focus back into casting protective charms over the flat.
Dylan took a brief break from his spellcasting as he could feel his mental
faculties fading. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard of the potions they’ve been
developing in Bulgaria that can dissolve wards like salt does in water. I
suppose this is a chance to show that they’re practical and not just the
wayward theory of meddling madmen.”
“I’ve heard,” Taden said grimly. He saw yet another vial headed in their
direction and was relieved when his Reducto Charm managed to hit it right at
the base and caused the vial to crack in two, the liquid raining on the
attackers. He could hear the shrieks and a chill ran up his spine.
“Honestly, Taden, it’s a wonder we haven’t put our focus into it yet
considering the damage it could do to all our bases. There aren’t enough
Scientists at Headquarters for the resources we have.” Dylan picked up his wand
again, muttering Protego Maxima several times as he saw numerous spells head in
his protégé’s direction. “Though the talk at Beauxbatons seemed to have had
results. Rumour has it there has been an influx of Scientist applications to
the bases in Paris, Berlin and Vienna.”
Taden dodged an incoming Reducto, jumping when it hit a spot several feet
behind him. “Cool. Can we talk about that later? We’re sort of being attacked
by Daggerbutt’s forces and this is really not the time.”
“Understandable,” Dylan concurred. He fired a few Curses at his enemies beneath
them – rule number one of dealing with him, of course, was to make oneself
invisible – and gave a lazy, satisfied smirk when one of them complained of
being on fire. Using the free time he had, he started repairing the broken
wards, trying to build up on the fragments that remained.
The door behind them swung open. “W – What the hell is going on here?”
Thank Merlin for Taden and Dylan that Jakob was a bit of an early riser
himself. Though the man was very dishevelled and in his night clothes, the Head
Scientist spent no time updating on the situation in as few words as he could
muster.
“I think I’ll stay here and set up the wards,” Jakob decided, giving Dylan and
Taden each a firm nod. “Wells, I suggest you wake the Rousseaus up.” He
snickered. “I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy, but – “
“I’m on it,” Taden replied. He rushed back inside, slamming the door shut
behind him. After casting Locking Charms on all the windows and doors leading
out of the apartment, he entered Julian and Ondrea’s room, shaking the former
awake.
“Huh? Wha – “
“The flat is under attack. We don’t have enough time.” Taden then left the room
to go to the one adjacent to it, where Alaina was already packing most of her
things into a backpack. “You’re quick to catch on,” the blond observed, tossing
her a few items she’d laid out on the bed.
“I heard the shields and wards break and I knew I had to do something,” Alaina
said, deciding to Summon everything in one ago and shove them into her bag in
one fell swoop. “Besides, I couldn’t sleep. Are my parents awake?”
“I managed to get your father up,” Taden replied, beginning to pace. “I think
this is enough, Alaina. Even with an Undetectable Extension Charm in there,
it’ll take too much time to get everything in the flat in here. We have to get
your parents and try and stop anyone from breaking and entering.”
“Okay.” Alaina slung the straps around her shoulders, grabbed her wand, and
began to leave her room. She took a few steps back, stopping right in front of
the blond who started to follow her. “You spoke everything in perfect French,
by the way.”
Taden’s features relaxed into a wide grin. There was a loud noise – the
cracking of glass – and he began following the girl out of the room.
“I’ll get my parents, and you keep the others safe,” Alaina said.
The blond nodded, heading out towards the noise. When he saw other shadowy
figures on the balcony, he cursed furiously before ducking beneath the sink to
ensure that he would be safe. He dampened the urge to send a Patronus to Alaina
warning her; doing so would just earn him a one-way ticket to getting caught.
If only he had the two-way mirror Dylan had so he could contact Headquarters –
The mirror!  Taden slunk out of his hiding place and ran as quickly, silently,
noiselessly as he could to reach Dylan’s room. When he was halfway there, the
door behind him unlocked, slamming with a thud to the wall as the intruders
stormed in. Seeing that Alaina was still trying to get her parents up to snuff,
he snuck into their room and shut the door as quietly as he could, pressing a
finger to his lips when Alaina frowned at him.
“Wells is meant to be here!” someone bellowed. There was the smashing of plates
and the plodding of boots. “Where is he, Veer?”
“How would I know? He could’ve gone back to bed.”  Thwack.  “That’s none of my
business.”
“Doesn’t matter. Borisov, go find him and the Rousseaus. Those Mudbloods must
be in here somewhere.”
Taden could tell that these were  definitely  some of the newest Dark Army
recruits. That made the fight ever so slightly easier. He turned to face
Alaina, beckoning her to him, and cast a Disillusionment Charm over them both.
Julian and Ondrea did the same, only on the other side of the door to hide them
from view. The blond was counting his breaths, trying to control their pace and
volume until the door swung open.
It took him all of his willpower not to Avada the man when he saw the state
that Dylan was in, Borisov grabbing him by the shoulders. The attackers must
have taken a leaf out of the Muggles’ books, which Taden found amusing
considering how much they seemed to belittle them. He could feel the Charm
slowly wearing off as his rage simmered, so he cast it one more time over him
and Alaina.
The second attacker seemed to be sniffing the air. “There are definitely
people  in here, Ivanovich. I can smell them – “
“You should probably do something about that,” Ivanovich scoffed. “I don’t see
anyone in here. Let’s just take the Professor and the von Bergen and be done
with it.”
“The Dark Lord will be so pleased!”
Taden was about to fire a curse at the two attackers, but thankfully, Jakob had
gotten to it first, Stunning Ivanovich and sending him stumbling forwards. This
gave Taden time to rush from his position to lunge towards Dylan, narrowly
avoiding Borisov’s arms as he grabbed his mentor and ran away from the room.
“W – We need the mirror,” the blond mumbled, jogging towards his mentor’s room.
“Your  mirror. We need to get Headquarters and let them know about the breach
fast – “
The Head Scientist immediately cut his mentee off. “We shouldn’t get
Headquarters involved. This is much too small scale of an attack and they still
need to recover after Helsinki.” Dylan slammed the door to his room shut.
“Jakob’s already gotten Magda and Johanna to come. That should be enough.”
“But we should let them know we’ve been compromised. You have a black eye – “
“Shush. Borisov is coming.” They both snuck behind the door, feet light as a
feather. Just as Taden noticed his Disillusionment Charm wearing off, he stuck
his arm into Borisov’s view, yelling, “Lumos Maxima!”
The view blinded him for a moment, and that was enough time for Dylan to flee
from the room and rush to the Rousseaus’ aid. He saw Jakob keeping guard
outside the flat, still repairing the damage the wards had received. The look
on the man’s face was too grave for anyone’s liking, and as Dylan turned back,
he could see jets of light coming from his room.
“Leave them,” Jakob said, his voice full of trepidation, “get Julian and Ondrea
to help you restrain Ivanovich. If he is as I imagine him to be, he’s probably
susceptible to the Verdimilious Charm.”
Dylan bobbed his head. “Will do.” His feet took him to where he needed to be,
but his heart tugged at somewhere else entirely. The former Slushatel ignored
it as he cast numerous Incarcerous spells on Ivanovich. He swore he saw a jet
of green light behind him, but he chose to ignore it.
===============================================================================
19.30 November 7th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
Rhys brushed the hair out of his wife’s face as she stood from the dinner
table, plate half-empty. “Do you really have to do this right after dinner?
Can’t you wait another half an hour?”
“Kait and I scheduled this two days ago,” the blonde said, bending down to kiss
his forehead. “If you had a problem with it then, you should’ve spoken to one
of us about it. Besides, yours will come soon enough.”
“Not looking forward to it,” the ginger grumbled. Two pairs of blue eyes met
and they both shared a knowing giggle. He leaned up to give his wife a chaste
peck on the lips, his thumb brushing her cheek. “I love you, but we’ve lost so
much time.”
“I love you too, you carrot,” the Queen whispered, “too much time, I think.”
She turned to face her daughter, who was now napping on his lap. “Make sure
that – “
“She’ll be in bed before you even get to The Box. I’ll make sure of it.”
As the blonde left her family behind, the blonde smoothed out her robes and
made her way down the stairs and through the long corridor –  for Merlin’s
sake, Ineesa, Alex, I didn’t have to see that  – to The Box. Gently pushing the
door open, she tried not to burst into laughter since Kait had one of her many
game faces on. It would have terrified most individuals, but the former Head
Girl knew her friend far too well.
“Name, date of birth, and occupation,” Kait demanded as Lena slid into her
seat.
“Lena Marie Johanna Vorstenbach. Eighteenth of April twenty forty-two.” She
paused, frowning. “Light Queen.”
“The subject today – whoever she claims to be – is being Interrogated on the
charges of being a suspected mole for the Dark Army against the Light Side.
This is found unconstitutional according to Chapter 4 of the Penal Code,
Section VI…”
This was yet another one of those moments where Lena wished she wasn’t bound by
oath to  not  suffocate Kaitlen Merkulova when she annoyed her. She tapped her
fingers on the desk, trying to imitate her friend’s facial expressions. The
Hrabrost’s voice did not waver as she made the perfunctory speech. Once she was
finished, she slammed Lena’s wand on the table. The blonde almost screamed in
rage despite the fact that, in all fairness, she would have survived just fine
without it and she had plenty of spares.
“What House were you in when you attended Durmstrang and what year did you
graduate?”
“Uchitel, class of twenty sixty.”
“Do you have any ideas, suggestions,  inklings  on who could have  possibly
leaked our whereabouts, ammunition, research or any other intelligence to the
Dark Army or other opposing third parties?”
“No,” Lena replied, trying not to burst as Kait’s finger gently poked her nose.
“Tell me, what is your opinion with the Light Side, putting your position
aside?”
“Rather positive, considering I created it.”
And so the questioning continued, with Kait asking Lena borderline
inappropriate questions about her personal life and the blonde’s fingers
digging deep into the wood answer as she gave short, bemused answers. The
interrogation – or ‘interview’, as Kait preferred to call it – lasted an hour
before Kait turned off the recording and sat on the table, crossing her legs as
she regarded her best friend.
“I can say for certain that you are most definitely not the mole,” the brunette
said, grinning. “Shame, really. Would have been a hell of a plot twist if it
was.”
“If you conclude otherwise I would’ve stabbed you,” Lena replied primly. Her
fingers finally unfurled themselves from the wood and she inspected her nails
for splinters. “To be fair, if you had let this last a moment longer, I
probably would’ve stabbed you anyway.”
Kait let out a very sing-song laugh and poked her friend’s nose again. “But you
didn’t, because you need me to train the Bellamy twin to perfection and to
interview anyone else. Also because you love me and cherish me so much Frodo
will turn green with envy if he ever finds out.” With a wave of her hand, she
Summoned two cups of jasmine tea. After adding two sugar cubes for her friend,
she said, “I did have a look from the transcripts of the rest of today’s
interviews, the findings of which I assume you’d like me to go through with
you?”
“By all means,” Lena agreed, sitting up and taking a sip of her tea.
“Well, the first one was Johanna von Bergen, who looked at me weird for half of
the interview before I realised, hold on a second, she’s a Squib, and kept
whining about how she wanted to go home to tend to her cows in Austria. Fro and
I ruled her out because although she has the means to travel around, it would
be far too obvious for her to go around Dark Army territory the way she does in
a Ferrari.”
The blonde gave a bitter chuckle. “Yes, she does have a fondness for Beatrice.
Still, an investigation that is too thorough is much better than one that
isn’t. Next?”
“Aubrey Yusikova.” The both of them let the name hover between them, and Kait
cleared their throat. “I’m quite aware of the complicated role she has and the
fact that’s meant to slip them information made the conversation quite…
heated.” She cocked her head, asking Lena to stand up and follow her several
doors down to the Memory Room. “I’m surprised she gave me a copy of the
memories of the meetings she has with Belikova and Sokol just in case. She’s
convinced her time will be up soon, or at least that’s what I think she means.”
“Did she say why?”
“Not sure. She just said that she thinks that her usefulness as a double agent
will come to an end and she’ll have to pick sides.” She shrugged her shoulders,
taking one of the memories that she received earlier that day and showing it to
the blonde. “Yusikova clearly knows something that for whatever reason she felt
she could not share with us on record. Perhaps if you went and spoke to her – “
“ – I’ll make a note.” The blonde twirled a lock of blonde hair around her
finger. “You haven’t ruled her out, now have you?” Kait shook her head. “You
don’t really think she fully defected to Daggerbutt, but you still think
there’s something going on.” The brunette nodded. “I’ll speak to her as soon as
I can.”
“After this, please have a look at the memory,” the former Hrabrost piped in,
“I think whatever she wants to tell you is in it.”
Kait and Lena then discussed Luke Bellamy (‘far too clueless to know much, I
mean, really’), Aino Nikkala (‘she’s  three,  Lena’), and finally, the Light
Queen’s own interview. Though Frodo will regard his best friend’s replies with
a grain of salt, Kait did have a few things to say.
“You sounded like you wanted to murder me. That’s going to bite your ass in
court.”
“Don’t I normally sound like that?”
“You do, but a Jury who are meant to be  unbiased,  as in  not know you at all,
wouldn’t know apples from oranges when it comes to you,” Kait pointed out,
Summoning their cups of tea from the other room as her fingers grew nervous. “I
know that we’re not bad investigators and we can get to the bottom of this, but
you like preparing for the worst case scenario and this is about as bad as we
can get.”
Lena found her tea was cold, and did a nonverbal Warming Charm until it suited
her and she took a sip. “Like you said, it would be one hell of a twist if I
was  the mole.”
“If the public knew how you started the whole mess, it wouldn’t add up. You
might want to do something about that, you know. Curry things in your favour.”
The clock struck ten. Kait finished the last of her tea, set the cup and saucer
on a desk, and straightened her trousers. “We both better sleep soon. Morning
won’t be kind to either of us.”
Lena gave her a curt nod, “You? Sleep early? Only in another universe.” Her
friend was itching to interrupt, but the blonde cut her off. “I’ll tend to Ana
soon, but I have a feeling that Rhys is asleep and I’d rather not rouse him. In
the meantime, I’ll have a look at the memory if that’s okay with you?”
“Sure thing,” the Hrabrost said. She smiled at her friend before leaving the
room and closing the door behind her.
Meanwhile, the blonde placed the memory in the divot next to the pool of water
and watched the memory flow from the vial to the main body of the Pensieve. She
then took a deep breath, and dipped her head into the water.
===============================================================================
12.07 October 3 rd , Year 12: Docentribis Institute
The lessons at school were beginning to dull Vanka’s mind. Lena had taught her
most of these things when she was in their First Year – and so did Ellie, Nick
and Nessie – and they had passed their First Year exams without a hitch. Äiti
had been proud, but Vanka knew too well that her mind often lay elsewhere.
A border could be drawn between those who clearly thought the Light Side had
the short end of the stick and who didn’t by second year. The Krums tried to
make strong allies out of Vanka and Nick, but neither of them were having it.
Still, it didn’t stop them from being particularly persistent. Thank Merlin
that Alex was a very effective barricade partially because his reputation for
being downright terrifying had made its way throughout the school and partially
because he was said to be too handsome not to say no to.
Privately, Vanka agreed.
Nessie yawned by the time lunch hit, snoring on the bench while Vanka, Ellie,
Nick and Alex continued to eat. The Bellamy twins and Ashley rushed to join
them shortly after, trying to avoid Claudius Sicarius and his cronies. Nick
rushed to Ashley’s aid, protecting her by sending a strong Stunning Spell
thirty yards away from her attackers, and the boy’s body smacked against the
entrance of the Hall.
“You alright?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She nodded,
blushing.
Cordelia – or was it Cornelia? Vanka wondered when the twins were going to
develop separate personalities – sat next to Ellie, edging the blonde out of
the conversation. “Is everyone at this school so rude?” Cordelia asked,
crossing her ankles. “We told mother that people do curse each other for fun in
halls, and she didn’t believe us.” She flashed a still-bleeding wound at her
friend. “At least we have proof now.”
“What on earth?” Ellie gasped, running her hand through satchel to find a piece
of cotton wool and plaster. “Cordelia,” the girl scolded, rubbing the wound
clean with rubbing alcohol and then blotting the area surrounding it with
iodine. “Running around with bleeding wounds is ridiculously dangerous.
Remember to cast an Episkey as soon as you get hurt like that, okay?”
“Okay, but that’s not going to stop people from cursing each other,” Cordelia
pouted, “that girl Maja is  awful.  She keeps going on and on about how she’s
going to marry Jarlan Lestrange. Like anyone wants to marry such an awful boy.”
Nick choked on his water, and Ashley rubbed his back to make sure he was okay.
The motion was enough for Nessie to rouse from her slumber, though it wasn’t
long before she was gone again. Vanka gave Ellie an amused look. The girl had
just frozen, pretending that she hadn’t heard her junior and began packing her
supplies into her satchel. “Y – Yes, Jarlan is an awful boy indeed.”
“That’s why our parents teach us extra things outside of school,” Alex piped
in, placing a protective hand on Cordelia’s shoulder. Ellie gleamed at him, “I
know your mother doesn’t want you to take on the lessons with us, but it’s a
war. You need all of the preparation you can get.”
“Of course we’d love to!” Cornelia agreed, her head tilted upwards. “But
Cordelia’s right. We’re not allowed to be taught extra things with you guys
out side of school or we risk mother’s wrath…”
“So why don’t you teach us  in  school?” Cordelia finished for her twin,
grinning.
Alex and Vanka exchanged glances, and then smirks. “Why, that’s a great idea,”
Alex replied, knowing for the first time in a while exactly what he was going
to do after school that day.
15.50
“Come on! We only have ten minutes before the Portkey opens!” Alex exclaimed,
rushing to heal as much of Cordelia and Cornelia as he could Ellie was helping
him, mumbling several healing spells. “Pay attention to how Ellie and I
treating you. Knowing how to heal minor injuries in battle might save time and
your life.”
Vanka was pacing back and forth at the back of the classroom on the lookout for
any of the Dark Army’s spawn, still relatively unharmed from today’s spat. Alex
had chosen to take it slow in order to ease the Bellamy twins into training.
Though they had been fairly hesitant about throwing hexes and jinxes at each
other at first, their laughter soon echoed the wall as they aimed Rictusempras
at each other. Both twins were surprisingly good, given their circumstances,
but they were Bellamys. They had always been good at offence, no matter how
much they tried to deny it.
The blonde knew that Alex could probably train Duellists one day – Äiti
constantly marvelled at how good he could get – but he’d always wanted to be in
Intelligence. “Imagine all the travel I get to do,” he’d told her, “I get to
see the world.”
“But that’s what battles are for,” she’d replied. He chose not to grace her
with a response.
In her momentary blip from vigilance, Vanka almost missed Donnica’s tiny figure
running across the hallway, armed with her brother and Claudius. Wand at the
ready, she turned back once more, ensuring that both twins, Nessie, Alex and
Ellie were safe, before she fired off a relatively strong Expulso in their
attackers’ direction.
“Vanka, what the hell – “
“Stupefy! Sectumsempra! Serpensortia!” Claudius began firing off a barrage of
spells, as expected. The boy was far too fond of putting all of his cards on
the table. Vanka managed to dodge out of the spells in time, firing an
Incarcerous at the snake which thankfully hit. She slammed the door to the
classroom shut, leading Donnica, Jarlan and Claudius away to the corridor
heading in the opposite direction. They had always been much more focused on
her than they were on collateral damage, and the blonde was nothing if not
resourceful.
Meanwhile, Alex could hear the ruckus going on outside. His teeth were clenched
and his hand gripped his wand firmly. “Dammit, Vanka!” he yelled, walking out
of the classroom, eyes and wand ready to fight. After instructing Ellie to take
the twins home on the four o’clock Portkey with or without them, the boy
sprinted out of the classroom. Following the Stupefy that ricocheted off the
walls, he found Vanka cornered by the three attackers.
“Alex,” Vanka hissed, trying to dodge all of their spells by curling up into a
ball on the floor, “get the fuck out – “
“Tarantallegra!” Claudius bellowed. Alex jumped over the spell and attacked him
with an accurate Disarming spell, which was effective. Donnica and Jarlan
turned around to face him, and in that split second, Vanka rushed away from her
corner and punched the back of Jarlan’s head. He didn’t fall, but he definitely
had trouble keeping her head up.
“You’re such a Mudblood, Vorstenbach,” Donnica purred. Vanka could feel the
blood in her veins curdle. As she idly wondered whether there was a curse that
existed to do such a thing, Alex Stunned the other girl, grabbed her arm and
ran back towards the classroom.
They were both relieved when Ellie and the twins were still there. The boy
could barely look at the blonde as they both Portkeyed back to Headquarters. He
then took her to a corner table in the Dining Hall, folding his arms on the
table.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Vanka?” he growled. “You know your Äiti would
have had my head on a stick if we didn’t manage to Portkey ourselves back in
time – “
“ – I needed to fight them; they were obviously out to hurt us again! You saw
they were heading right towards me the moment they saw me!” Vanka’s hands were
now fists. “I’m not going to just stand around and wait for them to make the
first move, Alex. I have to stop them. I am not going to rest – “
“ – until you see Donnica’s body dead, broken and bleeding on the ground.” Alex
ran his hand through his hair. “Vanka, I’m worried about you. I know that we’re
in the middle of war but you’re looking for fights where there are none.”
Vanka’s laugh was every bit as hollow and bitter as her aunt’s. “You saw them
go after me and you still think I’m looking for trouble? Alex? Really?”
“Your obsession with Donnica is…” He cleared his throat at her glare and
reconsidered his words. “I think you need to take a step back and look at what
it’s doing to you. You guys haven’t even gone to battle yet and you hate her.
She’s just a kid, just like you, Vanka.”
“But her parents killed Rhys!” the blonde snarled. “They killed Äiti’s most
precious possession and she is just like them! Cruel, heartless, a fucking
bitch! I don’t just hate her, Alex. I despise her with every fibre of my being!
I want her body hung, drawn and quartered just like her parents!”
“Vanka, are you sure you feel that way?”
“I don’t feel this way towards her!” she shrieked, slamming her palm onto his.
She paused, squeezed his hand, and stood up. “I – I’m sorry, Alex.”
“Vanka – “
“Just leave it.” Her hand shook as she turned away, and Alex had trouble
swallowing the guilt in his throat.
Chapter End Notes
     if you get the carrot joke you get a cookie
***** 4D: November 2080 *****
Chapter Summary
     “Like I said, I’m going to try and understand blood wards in the
     library. Feel free to join me when you’ve suddenly redeveloped a
     vested interest in your schoolwork.”
Chapter Notes
     WARNING: Discussion and portrayal of violent themes in this chapter
 
16.40 November 9th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
Cordelia walked out of The Box feeling rather…  cold . She knew that
Interrogation was a tough place to be and that she was never going to be as
cold as Frodo Merkulov or as nuts as Kaitlen Merkulova, but to believe that she
was going to go from herself to one of  them  was a metamorphosis that she
couldn’t comprehend.
She wouldn’t let such doubts cloud her ambition. When Auntie Chara had  finally
given the okay for her to start training, she’d almost abandoned all of her
schoolwork in order to show her aunt that she had been right to let her in.
Cornelia had to remind her twin on a regular basis about schoolwork that needed
to be done but it all seemed so insignificant considering how everything seemed
to escalate the moment Charles Prentiss walked into Headquarters.
When Cordelia arrived at the Dining Hall, Cornelia was already sitting cross-
legged on one of the benches, offering her a sandwich when she sat down.
Cordelia took it and inspected its contents. Egg mayo. One of her favourites.
“So, did Mrs. Merkulova say anything to you after your interview?” Cordelia
asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.
“No,” Cornelia said, “she just thanked me for my time and told me to leave the
room.”
“At least you had her and not Mr. Merkulov,” her twin replied, shuddering. “He
told me thanks for coming, you’re all good, but by the way, you need to start
practicing Occlumency more often if you’re going to last more than a day in the
Dark Army Lair.”
“That is scary. And what do you mean? You already practice it with me every
day!”
“Well, that’s not good enough for him, but let’s not talk about that right
now.” Cordelia poured herself a glass of water. “What do you think all this
questioning is about?”
“Beats me. They’re probably trying to make sure that everyone’s mental
faculties are up to standards.” Cornelia fiddled with her empty juice box, her
gaze unwavering from the bright blue packaging. “That would explain why the
Queen had to be interviewed.”
Cordelia could feel the gears in her mind beginning to turn. “Since when – “
“Ellie told me about it.” Cornelia lifted her eyes to meet her twin’s.
“Actually, that  is  strange. You don’t know if something’s going on, is
there?”
“I don’t  know,  but it doesn’t mean that something isn’t going on that they’re
not telling us.” Cordelia rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “I’m
convinced that it has to do with Charles Prentiss,” she whispered, switching to
Mandarin, “I think he’s the reason Headquarters has been so chaotic recently.”
“Seriously, Cordelia? We’re not going to have this conversation again – “
“It makes sense, though. A well-known Dark Army wizard just  wandering  into
Headquarters. Do you know how  ridiculous  that sounds? I think he’s got
something to do with all of the mayhem that’s been happening lately. Even Mum
thinks so.”
“Even if he does, it’s not like you’ve got anything to prove it,” Cornelia
said. “Anyway, I’ve had a look at your Potions essay and you’ve got
approximately five-hundred more words to go and not much left to write so you
better think of something fast because I’m not letting you flunk anything or
Auntie will have both of our heads on a silver platter.”
“That can wait! This is important. Maybe this is what Mr. Merkulov and Mrs.
Merkulova need help with: trying to find Charles Prentiss’s motives.”
“If that was the case, those weren’t the questions they asked. And for fuck’s
sake, can you at least  try  and do your essay? I already got the books and
required reading sorted out for you.” Cornelia put the books on the table along
with a piece of rolled parchment, tossing it to her sister before opening up a
journal and scanning its contents.
“Then why do you think they asked those questions? What end goal would those
questions achieve? They probably think someone is collaborating with him to do
some sort of end goal. He’s probably trying to bring us all down from the
inside by getting to Auntie Dommi first, use her as leverage and lure us into
some sort of trap.” Poking her twin’s shoulder, Cordelia frowned, “Hey! Are you
listening to me?”
Cornelia turned the page, “Can you repeat all of that? I’m trying to figure out
all of this research Professor Hansoff did on blood wards – “
“Ugh, you’re  such  a Scientist.”
“You were a Scientist literally a month ago, Cordelia.”
“I thought you were going to be a Healer, Cornelia. That’s what you told Mum.”
“It was my back-up because there were no more places in that department,
according to you.”  Cornelia slammed her journal shut. “Turns out that there
were  plenty  of places not just in Headquarters, but in Paris, Berlin and
Vienna. Well, guess who just submitted their application to go work in Vienna.
When I get it, I can finally experience the outside world in a situation that
doesn’t  involve rotting bodies and I can help the Eastern front.” She stood
from the desk, chin held high as she looked down at her sister. “Like I said,
I’m going to try and understand blood wards in the library. Feel free to join
me when you’ve suddenly redeveloped a vested interest in your schoolwork.”
Cordelia watched her sister leave, two trains of thought trying not to crash
into each other. Taking another bite of her sandwich, she ran her free hand
through her hair, cursing herself. Cornelia had always been the more pragmatic
one, all façades aside. She gobbled down the rest of her sandwich when she saw
Mr. Merkulov head in her direction. As he sat facing her, she straightened her
back and greeted him curtly.
“I’m guessing you found out about your sister’s interest in leaving
Headquarters,” he said.
“I didn’t know she had such interests,” Cordelia replied, her heart still
pounding from her sister’s revelation. “I didn’t even know she wanted to be a
Scientist, what with her constant drawing and writing and singing – ” She
cleared her throat. “Rule number one of interrogation: people will always
surprise you. You just have to minimise the chances of that happening.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Merkulov nodded, “I find that the people you know best tend
to surprise you the most just because you happen to trust them to tell you
things.” He patted her shoulder. “You’re not an awful person just because you
didn’t know about your sister, you know. I barely know anything about mine.”
“But it’s different.”
“It is. I never said it wasn’t.” The furrowed brows on Cordelia’s face refused
to relax, and Mr. Merkulov – should she call him Frodo? – exhaled. “Look, I
know all of these interviews are scary and you’re probably wondering what
they’re for, and I can’t betray the Queen’s confidence on why they’re happening
in the first place, but you’re fine. Both you and your sister.”
“I can’t quite imagine my sister and Charles Prentiss getting along to
overthrow the Queen and the Light Side, no.”
“Your sister is a tad too young for his tastes, I think. I know for a fact he
prefers brunettes.”
“Does he? I thought Auntie Dommi had black hair.”
“She does,” Frodo replied. Cordelia knew that there was something he was
omitting, but she cared far too little about a Dark Army wizard’s love life to
ask. “I must have seemed cold to you earlier when I told you that your
Occlumency needed work because in all fairness, your Occlumency is good by any
layman’s standards, but Dagareth  did  manage to get his hands on your
grandmother and murder her, so – “
“Ice cold, actually. But I know. I get it.” Cordelia didn’t remember her
grandmother well, but she definitely remembered liking her. “You just want to
make sure that we have as large of a chance as surviving as possible if the
time comes.” She gave her mentor a wry smile. “If that’s the case, I hope
Prentiss sticks around for a bit because things have been in our favour ever
since he came. I thought he was meant to be an idiot.”
Frodo chuckled, “He is, but not for the reasons you think he is. What are you
doing, worrying about the fate of a forty-year-old man? Isn’t he a bit too old
for you? Your parents would be interrogating you if they think you hold a torch
for him.”
Shuddering, Cordelia shook her head. “No. I just think that he’s a lot less
idiotic than he seems. I can’t imagine that a stupid person can survive in Dark
Army territory for twenty minutes, let alone twenty years.” She pursed her lips
in thought before asking, “Do you think we’re underestimating him, Mr.
Merkulov? I feel like we’re missing something, a piece of the jigsaw puzzle,
maybe, and it’s been bugging me.”
“You’re not the only one that feels that way,” Frodo concurred, his mind
clearly elsewhere. “I’m convinced that there’s something about the Dark Army
territory he’s refusing to tell us, but whether it’s his own demons or
something a lot less personal remains unclear, and he would never tell me such
important information. That’s up to the Queen.” He took a look at the clock. “I
must be off. The next interview is in an hour.”
“Fair,” Cordelia smiled, “bye, Mr. Merkulov.”
“Goodbye, Cordelia.”
===============================================================================
06.27 November 13th, Year 20: 16ème arrondissement, Paris, France
Taden knew that he was a half-decent dueller considering the gruelling training
his wife put him through during their honeymoon, but unlike her, his magic
reserves tend to run out reasonably quickly. He’d noticed that in battle and in
training and no matter what potions he took or what regimen he was on, even if
he was an effective soldier his stamina was practically zero.
It was a surprise that he was still alive and kicking, to be honest.
Borisov, despite his low standing in the Dark Army hierarchy, was definitely no
slouch. Taden shouldn’t be surprised that the Army had increased their
recruiting standards in their over twenty years of existence, but he really
was. There were plenty of people in support of the Dark – Daggerbutt, but to
actually join him was to give up one’s family, one’s possessions, one’s wealth.
Merlin knew that if it was  easy  to join the Dark Army his father and uncles
would’ve done so years ago, and he probably would have too.
Well, to be fair,  he thought, dodging yet another Avada,  they had always been
cowards.
“Do you only know three spells, Borisov?” Taden yelled, non-verbally casting a
Protego as more green air sliced through the air. “I’m pretty sure we went to
the same school, and I remember more than three spells from first year alone –
“
“Shut up, traitor!” The break in spell-casting was enough for Taden to regain
some energy, and he ducked into the fireplace. “I see your potential there as a
dueller, Wells. You could have done so much more if you had gone to service the
Dark Lord – “
“ – his ideas are ridiculous. I’m pretty sure he saw most of what Voldemort did
in Britain and simply copy pasted whatever he did. I mean, the whole Dark Lord
thing is a bit overdone at this point.” The blond cast a Disarming Spell, which
was effective against his slowly seething opponent. “Though I have to admit
that holding most of Eastern Europe for about twenty years was a nice touch.”
“At least he has power, wealth and knowledge beyond your imagination!”
“For someone who has so-called infinite wealth, he certainly knows fuck all
about the Muggle scientific method. There’s a  reason  it is so widely regarded
as one of their most important discoveries.”
“Don’t you dare speak of such filth! Even their existence alone is not worthy
of hearing about. Where I’m from, they no longer exist. No more dirt can haunt
this earth, locking us out of the existence we so desire and deserve.”
Merlin, he sounded so much like his father Taden swore they were twins .
“You might think that, Borisov, but they had weapons more powerful than any
spell. I heard they used bombs to kill thousands of people at once. Does the
job well enough. And if you ever wander into any of our bases, our
Interrogators would love to give you a first-hand experience into the art of
Muggle torture. I think you’d enjoy it, personally.”
Borisov had pretty much given up on non-verbals at this point, shrieking the
Unforgivables with the grace and aim of a toddler in tantrum. Good news was
that Taden had substantially more time. Bad news was that the spells was
powerful and the breaks in between spells were simply not enough to sustain
protective shields of that strength. Twenty to thirty curses in, the Scientist
could feel his strength slipping.
“How dare you disgrace the Dark Lord like that!” Borisov yelled, his face
bright red and boiling. “No one insults the Dark Lord, for he has held most of
Europe under his grip for over two decades! It is my honour to be his own
personal servant.  Has your precious Light Queen done the same?”
“Yes she has, and she didn’t have to kill as many people because people
actually  liked her.”
Had this been from a completely different angle, Taden would have been laughing
so hard he had stitches. Their banter gave him time to think, and he jumped out
of the fireplace and took to his new hiding place behind a conveniently placed
coffee table. To his relief, Borisov didn’t just think of Reducto-ing the
object, instead striking alternate Crucios and Imperios until oblivion.
Clearly not a man to think strategically under high pressure, Borisov was
dangerous. Where he clearly lacked in finesse he made up for in power. There
was an easy solution to that strategy, and that was to wait it out, but judging
from the state the coffee table was in, Taden would be dead before the other
man got tired.
The blond sent a Stunning spell flying directly at the man, missing his
shoulder by an inch. He cursed himself as Borisov continued to cast spells in
his direction. The door still ajar, Taden chose that moment to sprint of the
room, his opponent hot on his heels as he cast the Killing Curse. From his
peripheral vision, he could see Ivanovich on the ground, Dylan tying him to
various objects in the room. Julian was holding a roll of Muggle duct tape,
taping the man’s mouth shut. Ondrea and Alaina took notice of the blond’s
chase, and they grabbed their wands and came after the two men.
Unfortunately, Borisov also noticed the both of them and cast a Crucio in
Alaina’s direction. Instead of dodging, she dove, sliding on the carpet with
one leg outstretched and the other bent until she slowed to a stop. Within
range of her opponent, she kicked him as he was in the middle of an Avada
Kedavra, toppling him and letting the spell ricochet off the walls.
“Nice one!” Taden exclaimed, his joy morphing very quickly to acute fear when
he saw Borisov attack the young woman. He then took this opportunity to Stun
the man from behind, Alaina shrieking as he fell to the ground.
Ondrea took the reins from there and picked Borisov up, slinging him on her
shoulder. “I hope there’s only the two of them because if there’s going to be
yet another display like that, I’m not going to forgive you, Taden. No
offence.”
“None taken,” the blond smirked, asking the older woman to stop so he can
magically bind his captive’s hands with rope. Alaina scrambled to catch up with
the both of them, the Dark Army wizard’s wand in her hand. “We really should
have thought of people trying to attack Dylan and installed blood wards on this
place. But we thought that this, being Paris…” He took a deep breath. “We were
too lax with security and today we’ve paid the price.” Turning to Alaina, he
asked, “You alright?”
“Yeah,” she nodded delightedly, if only there was no other word for the
expression on her face, “that was the most action I’ve ever seen first-hand,
and that was fun! Wasn’t it, Maman?”
“It was fun, but if you think you’re going to fight in any battles, you’re
sorely mistaken,” Ondrea chided, though there was still a small smile on her
face, “though of course, we’ll be happy to provide any assistance should the
time arise, combat aside.”
“I think your Healer training would come in very handy,” Taden said, thinking
of Healer O’Malley, “we only have a couple of proper Healers in Headquarters
and they’ve always taken combative roles in battle. Perhaps…”
“We’ll consider it.” Ondrea could hear Borisov groan as if to wake, and Alaina
Stunned him again. At the action, she gave a gleeful chuckle, and her mother
and Taden exchanged confused looks.
Throwing Borisov on the floor, Ondrea embraced her husband once everyone was in
the same room. Alaina observed their two captives with wide eyes, taking a
camera out of her satchel and taking a photograph of them ‘just in case’. Dylan
and Jakob were talking about some old war memories that Taden really cared
about, leaving him to survey the rest of the flat.
Overall, the damage done to the flat was visible, but it could be easily
repaired. The blond took it upon himself to repair as much of the damage as he
could with magic, and though there were still large chunks of debris by the
time he was done the first time, the flat was still habitable. He was thankful
that at least the bathroom and at least one of the bedrooms was left untouched
by the altercation.
After washing his face and relieving himself, Taden returned to the room to see
both captives slipping back into consciousness. While Ivanovich chose to
struggle quite visibly with his ropes, Borisov took a lazier, more calculated
approach. Both made the Scientist feel uneasy, and he had a sudden need to
adjust his sleeves every couple of seconds.
“Well, you got us,” Borisov drawled, “what do you want?”
At his words, Dylan turned around to face him. The Head Scientist sauntered
over, holding the man’s chin in his palm. “I’d say wanting you to leave would
be the most concise answer,” he replied coolly. “The real question is what do
you  want?”
“We want you to stop publishing those lies you’ve sent all over Europe.”
Borisov gleamed his teeth at Taden. The blond swore that he could feel a shiver
run up his spine. “Oh, and we would like to tell Mr. Wells here some pleasant
news. Your cousin passed away last month. Rather tragic incident, if I do say
so myself.”
Julian scoffed as Dylan let go of Borisov’s chin, returning back to his
position beside Jakob, “Why should we believe you? You’re a man sent from
Dagareth himself, as you so loudly proclaimed. You could be lying for all we
know.”
“Why would I lie about Victoria Wells’s death?” Turning to Taden, he continued
to speak. “She was to be mine, dear Vicky was. So beautiful, so kind, such an
innocent little flower. Had things gone differently, she would be with child
now.  My  child.” The blond’s expression remained stony, and Borisov saw it fit
to continue. “But alas, she was far too fond of her traitorous cousin even
though they haven’t spoken a word in the last four years.”
That wasn’t completely true,  Taden thought, but there was no need for the
villain to know.
“When her father accepted my hand in marriage, she refused to associate with me
in any shape or form. On chaperoned dates, she would look to the stars and
asked if I could ever be as pretty as them. She rejected my compliments. All of
the owls I sent her she replied with only them torn up into shreds.”
Jakob groaned, “So you’re telling me that you’re here to do whatever job
Daggerbutt told you to do but also to avenge someone who wouldn’t love you
back?” He snorted. “Merlin, Dylan, and you said me running after the de Venin
twins was too much.”
“It was,” Dylan said in amusement.
Borisov growled at Taden, whose attention was now gripped by the wall, “Oh,
when the wedding day came and it was time… she had been a fighter, my Victoria.
It was sad to see her so bloody, so much red on that floor – “
“What did you say?” the blond said coldly, whipping his wand out as he walked
towards the man. His opponent had no answer but a smug smile on his face. “What
the fuck did you say, Borisov? Too  cowardly  to repeat it in front of me?”
“Oh no, not at  all  Mr. Wells. It was just that your cousin had never looked
as beautiful as she did right before she died.”
The blond wasted no time before throwing a Crucio at the man. The man’s mangled
screams began to fill the room, and as Alaina’s face scrunched up in disgust
the blond still remained expressionless. Ivanovich had stopped struggling in
his guards, his focus fixed on his teammate. An eternity passed before Taden
stopped, his chest heaving.
“My cousin is a million times the person you were, you are, you will be,” he
said, pointing his wand straight into the man’s chest.  “Avada Kedavra.”
The ghost of remorse flooded Taden’s body as he saw his opponent’s soul rush
out of him.
===============================================================================
19.32 November 9th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
“Thank you for your time, Elizabeta. You would hold up well enough in a Dark
Army lair.”
The Box closed behind her, and Ellie made her way down the snakelike corridor
to Meeting Room #45 – her and Alex’s semi-secret meeting place. They had a
tradition of booking out that room every several weeks and sat there doing
whatever they pleased. Only their mother knew about this and for once knew
better than to barge in on their meetings, and for that the young Healer
trainee was eternally grateful.
Alex was already there when Ellie entered, reading a torn copy of  All The
Light We Cannot See.  He looked up, grinning as she walked towards him and
closed the book shut. “How was the ‘interview’?” he asked, looking slightly
smug.
“I think I passed whatever it is they wanted me to pass,” she said
nonchalantly, leaning on her brother’s shoulder. “And when’s yours again?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Ellie opened her mouth, but her brother placed a finger on
her lips. “I think I can prepare for it by myself, thanks.”
“Aren’t you cocky?” she teased, picking up the book her brother had been
reading. She ran her fingers over the cover. “Anyway, how’s Ineesa?”
“You know how she is. She’s fine; you saw her at dinner – “
“No, Alex. I mean  how’s Ineesa?”
It took Alex all of his willpower not to tickle his sister as she waggled her
eyebrows at him. “She’s fine, honestly. We’re not going to go any further,
considering she doesn’t even  do  relationships.” He raised his eyebrows when
his sister tilted her head. “I’m fine with that, sis. I’m serious.”
Ellie deadpanned, “Thank Nimue. I was wondering whether you’d actually have
romantic relations with anyone after Vanka considering how  whipped  you were
for her towards the end. I was getting worried for a second that you would die
a  monk. ”
“It’s not romantic, it’s purely sexual, and yes, there’s a difference.”
Brushing one of his sister’s braids away from her eyes, he asked, “Speaking of
how people are, you still haven’t told me what happened during the battle
that’s got you all shaken up.”
Pouting at the movie selection, Ellie took a couple of DVDs off the shelf and
asked, “What movie do you wanna watch, Alex? I’m feeling Wonder Woman or
Captain America today – I don’t know, something superhero-related – “
“Ellie,  you can’t avoid the question forever. One might get the idea that
maybe you have something to hide.”
“I’m not collaborating with  Charles Prentiss,  if that’s what you’re
thinking.”
“Please  don’t tell me that you’re actually believing anything Cordelia Bellamy
is saying.”
“Well someone has to!” she exclaimed, “because so many impossible things are
happening and we don’t know why. We’re winning battles, Dylan and Taden
actually succeeded in one of their missions, and Jarlan went after me when we
were in Helsinki.  Me.  A relatively useless, stupid  nobody.  I try and get
over him and then all of a sudden he has to be the  gallant bad boy  he is and
– “
“That was the biggest oxymoron I’ve ever heard, but okay, I get it,” Alex
interrupted, placing an arm around his sister. She leaned into his embrace, her
head burrowing into his chest. “If you don’t want to talk about it anymore, we
can go watch Wonder Woman, because it’s the best Marvel movie ever made. Sound
good?” She bobbed her head. Alex placed the DVD in the television and the two
of them began watching the movie.
Diana had just left Thermyscira when Ellie paused the movie and turned to her
brother. “You don’t think I’m an awful human being for still having feelings
for Jarlan, right?”
“Of course not,” Alex replied, kissing his sister gently on the forehead, “I
still have feelings for Vanka and you don’t yell at me for it.”
Ellie gave her brother a wan smile. “Do you think you’ll ever get over her?”
“Vanka?” he questioned. She nodded, eyes flickering down onto the floor. “Well,
not completely, no. She was my first for… a lot of things, and I’ll always feel
something  for her. I think she feels the same way.” He frowned. “You know I’m
just going to say – “
“ – it’s a danger, I know, but I’m not going to let it cloud my judgment.”
Ellie looked up at him, expectant. “The same way you two never let your
feelings get in the way.” She pressed play, and Diana’s journey to World War
One continued.
Once the movie ended, Alex stretched his arms and Ellie promptly stood up,
searching the room for cookies. She found a surprisingly full tin, taking a
chocolate chip cookie and offering Alex one. He accepted. They both quietly
sat, trying not to devour their cookies as quickly as possible. Once they were
done, she grinned at her brother, who grinned back.
They burst into peals of laughter.
“What was that about?” Ellie asked, still giggling.
“I don’t know,” Alex replied. He heaved as he attempted to get his laughter
under control, but he found it impossible to do so. Taking another chocolate
chip cookie, he ate it as his sister continued to grin uncontrollably, waves of
uncontrolled amusement dotting the warm silence that engulfed him.
===============================================================================
23.49 November 9th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Bedroom #81
At the foot of the bed, Kait placed her head on Frodo’s shins, counting the
stars that were painted on the ceiling. It was from the night of their wedding
nearly two decades ago, and Merlin knew what possessed her from ravishing her
husband – her favourite activity – on her wedding night than to pick up a brush
and paint whatever was in the sky tonight.
Staring up at it every night never got old for her because in all the time she
had it, she never managed to get every constellation, every star, every
coordinate right. To be fair, the Hrabrost never possessed an affinity or
penchant for Astronomy: it seemed a tad useless to know every single star in
the world in the middle of a war when one of her best friends was an Uchitel
and another was Alora Veer.
It was Frodo that taught her to look at the stars –  really  look – for the
first time. That first night had been sometime in their sixth year if Kait
remembered correctly, way back when Lena was a little less paranoid, Rhys a
little less cautious, Anya a little more present. They’d stared up at the
stars, Frodo and her, and they actually  talked.  Not just the curt, kiss-with-
a-fist fashion that they had become accustomed to. In short bursts, she’d said
things about who she was, what she’d done, the person she wanted to become but
never could be. Even Alora had never heard her speak so much before.
Though Kait could never regret her marriage to Frodo, some parts of her still
ache. Dating him, getting pregnant, and last but not least, marrying him all
within the span of over twenty-three months had been a rollercoaster only
possible in the birth and growth of an all-encompassing war that made
everything after it so much more difficult. Assuming of course, there would be
an after, at the rate things were going.
The Interrogator wasn’t fond of admitting that she worried about things,
especially her friends and family, but of course she did. She worried about
Nick and Ineesa when they disappeared during Helsinki, about how Cordelia
seemed to be believing in all the wrong things, about Anya and Lora and Rhys,
about how Lena’s mental health was going down the pan and no matter who or what
tried to tell her to go get help, the blonde refused to acknowledge the
elephant in the room.
Silver and gold dots on the ceiling caught Kait’s eye, pulling her out of her
reverie. For the first time that night, she tried naming them all. As she did,
she stood from the bed and moved to the other side, tucking herself beneath the
sheets. Frodo, she realised, was rather sensitive to blood pooling in his legs,
as she discovered rather unsavourily during battle.
For the first time, Kait managed to get all of the details right.
***** 4E - November 2080 + August - October 2073 *****
Chapter Notes
     surprise. i live.
11.38 November 13th, Year 20: 16ème arrondissement, Paris, France
“About fucking time you got here!” Jakob yelled, “what took you so long?”
Johanna snorted as she put the car keys on the living room table. “Magda had to
go potty and Beatrice wouldn’t start.”
“What do you mean, Beatrice wouldn’t start? She’s only a couple of decades
old!”
“And she’s as tired of you as I am,” Magda cut in. The newly-arrived women both
took turns inspecting the apartment, raising eyebrows as they exchanged
glances. “You said that this was an emergency, yet I don’t see the problem.”
She wrinkled her nose, “Unless you’re talking about the mess. You wouldn’t take
us for a pair of cleaners, would you, Jakob?”
The eldest von Bergen pointed his sisters away from the living room towards the
master bedroom. “That’s not what you’re here for. Follow me.”
When the trio arrived, a lot of things remained the same as before. Taden was
still vacantly gazing into the eyes of a dead man, his plate of food left
untouched. Ivanovich had given up on breaking free from his ropes and was now
snoring in deep slumber. The sisters shared another look, and in mild
exasperation, Johanna remarked, “Oh, so you needed us to help you bury a body.
Does it always have to be so  tedious ? Why can’t you invite us for something
fun, like an interrogation or something?”
“Nice to see you too,” Julian deadpanned. “Want a bite? Ondrea and Alaina have
made plenty to spare.”
“That would be nice,” Johanna replied, giving the man a curt nod. Magda found
the plate on the floor, cast a Warming Charm on it, and began consuming its
contents. Her sister snickered at her, shaking her head.
Alaina appeared at the door not a moment later, holding a plate full of confit
byaldi and some fried plantain. “Here you go!” she grinned, passing the plate
to Johanna. “Did you guys get here from Lyon?”
“Yes,” Magda said, “that was why we took our sorry time getting here. Add a
confusing highway system and a century old car – “
“Stop blaming Beatrice, for fuck’s sake.“
“And we took a while to get here,” Johanna said, “the food is delicious, by the
way.”
“Thank you,” Ondrea said, entering the room and pulling her husband into an
embrace. “The plantain is probably the last one we’re going to have for a
couple of months until the next shipment comes in, so I hope I did it justice.”
Johanna twirled a lock of her hair and paid her attention to the blond that had
not moved since their arrival. “Is it like him to be so rude to new company?”
Dylan shook his head, offering the woman a death glare. “He just discovered his
only decent cousin died in rather… unsavoury circumstances. I think he deserves
a little bit of time to grieve.”
Magda nodded firmly, her voice quivering as she uttered her condolences. “You…
we should probably do something about the body then. We should move him, at the
very least.” She began approaching him before Taden turned around, restraining
her.
“He doesn’t deserve a burial.” His voice did not crack, though it was dry and
itching for nourishment. “He  hurt  her. He  killed  her. He does not deserve
the privilege of being treated like a human being.” Lifting his wand, the blond
non-verbally Reductoed the man, until all that was left in his place was a pile
of burning dust. He let it burn, letting the flames consume what was remained
of him until they began licking the walls. A jet of water ended the poignant
silence that filled the room.
Johanna mumbled something to her brother, but it only earned her a slap on the
shoulder from her sister. The woman rolled her eyes, trying not to smile at the
lack of body she had to move.
Dylan came forward to speak to his protégé, and the words they exchanged were
far too hushed and quiet for any of them to understand. (Though the von Bergen
women understood Russian, Middle German had always been their preferred tongue
as Lena Edmunds herself knew it well, and as a result did not understand the
conversation as much as they should have. Only Julian had any tangible
knowledge of Russian so far as anyone knew, and if Ondrea knew any she didn’t
make it known.)
At the end of it, the two Scientists let themselves out of the door, Dylan’s
arm around Taden’s shoulders. That left the von Bergens and Rousseaus with a
sleeping werewolf.
“So who’s he meant to be?” Johanna asked, turning to her brother.
“Someone we should’ve gotten rid of a long time ago, in all fairness,” he
mumbled, “but with Taden already murdering both of them, I think that killing
him too would be unwise.”
“Do we get to – “
“No,  Johanna. We’re not Headquarters, so we’re not going to torture him.
Besides, I think he’s one of Daggerbutt’s newest recruits. That should be
torture enough.” Jakob shifted his focus to Julian and Ondrea. “I feel it both
necessary and unnecessary to find the true purpose of their visit. What’s your
opinion?”
There was a pause that lasted for a minute before Julian gave his opinion. “I
am in favour of questioning Ivanovich. He might not know much, but from what
we’ve observed he does seem to be the sort that caves quickly enough for us to
know the information we need by the end of the day.”
“I agree,” Ondrea said firmly. “I need to know  how  they got this address.
Speaking of, we need to move. It’s not safe here.”
“That can be arranged,” Jakob replied swiftly, “there are many von Bergen
properties across the city. Just pick an arrondissement and we’ll discuss
options. I know you don’t like depending on us, but it’s the least we can do.”
He then strode over to the sleeping werewolf and chose to attack him with
doves. The man was yelling as he tried to get the birds to stop pecking him –
only to find that he could not.
“Get them off me, you piece of shit!” Ivanovich growled.
In response, Jakob snorted. “Do you really think that after attacking us in our
own home, we’d listen to anything you say?” He slapped the man, the birds
flying out of the open window. “Tough luck, pal. Perhaps you’d like to tell us
how  you found our humble little abode in the first place?”
“It was written all over your pamphlets.”
Snickering, Jakob shook his head. “No. The address written on the pamphlets are
for the printing press. Anyone familiar with Parisian geography would know that
that would be underground.” He took the man’s chin and stroked it in a display
of faux intimacy that sent chills up Julian’s spine. “If you had attacked that,
I would’ve understood. But finding the address of our  home  takes some  proper
espionage which I don’t think you have the skills fore.”
“Well I’m a lot smarter than you, filthy – “
Jakob pressed his wand against Ivanovich’s lips, and the werewolf spat on it.
“Who’s acting filthy now?” he asked. “Again, how did you find our house?”
“W – We followed you.”
“Are you saying your Apparition is so good it’s  silent?”
“Yes.”
Ivanovich’s gaze was trying to remain as stony as possible, and that only made
Johanna’s cackle grow in volume. “Everyone knows that silent Apparition is
practically impossible,” she said, clutching her sides. “Both sides can’t seem
to quite get it right.”
“Well, the Dark Lord has perfected it and has been teaching it to his
supporters.”
“Tsk tsk tsk.” Jakob shook his head, wagging his finger and sheathing his wand.
“Tell me how on earth taking yourself from space and transporting yourself to
another space in milliseconds is meant to be  silence.  You’re ripping atoms
and molecules apart. Surely you’ve heard of nuclear fusion. Please tell me you
don’t think they’re silent.”
Johanna skipped over to the werewolf, tilting her head as if to observe him.
“No werewolf could ever be so silly as to believe in that, surely?”
“Perhaps if they’re so far up the Dark Lord’s arse – “
“ – they can’t even think for themselves! How depressing!”
“No surprise, really. Treated like dirt just for being who they are. So much so
that if they join his ranks, they think they’re a god.”
“Fuck off, von Bergen. I’ll tell you.” Ivanovich’s face clearly contorted in
pain as he continued to speak. “Someone told us. Some man in the market a few
streets down told us you were around here. And we got lucky.”
Jakob and Johanna exchanged glances. “Looks like we have another body to bury,”
she pouted, and behind her, Magda rolled her eyes and raised her arms in
surrender.
Her brother brushed the hair out of Ivanovich’s face. “I knew it wouldn’t take
much for you to cave, you spineless excuse for a soldier.” He lifted his wand
out of its sheath and pressed it against the man’s temple. “Obliviate.”
===============================================================================
06.45 November 10th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
“Do you have any other questions?” Frodo asked, lifting his head from his
notepad.
Vanka shook her head. After he let her take her leave, she didn’t dare show any
sign of relief until the door shut behind her.
She didn’t like admitting it, but she’d grown restless and slightly cranky
during her husband’s absence. Taden had been gone for months and she hadn’t
heard so much as a wink from him. Aunt Lora, to her surprise, echoed her
sentiments when it came to the two men. The two of them had shared a cup of tea
over their worries, mostly telling each other that France is safe, Paris is
safe, their men are safe.
“I’ll call Dylan in a couple of days,” Lora had said. She took a sip of her tea
and the way she the cup thumped onto the saucer made Vanka tense. “Lena won’t
deny me that considering she told me to do it.”
“No,” the blonde chorused. “No she wouldn’t.”
She’d thought for a long time that the Seven Devils were seven individuals who
happened to be allies and friends in school. It was only when she was older –
after Paris – where she saw that despite Anya’s obvious seventh wheeling, they
all relied on each other. She saw how everyone looked to Frodo and Anya
whenever their emotions got bad, how the men supported each other in battle
without doubt, the way Kait and Lena talked longingly about their youth (she
never got the specifics, but she was sure that there was something going on
there). To Vanka, they looked very much like a co-dependent polyamorous
relationship.
Or at least, she thought it was. But then she got married. Even with Lena and
Ellie she could handle being away from them for long periods of time – though
she hadn’t a chance to test that theory yet, nor does she particularly want to.
Her husband had grown on her skin, embedded himself within it, and as much as
she could say the addition was unwelcome if he hadn’t done so everyone would
question why she’d ever married the man.
Sometimes, she’d say she loves him and that was it. Others, the word was spat
out her tongue, not without a bitter aftertaste. Others still, the rarest and
truest of times, when her back was slick with sweat and she was on the brink of
ecstasy, she’d cry it out, her fingers digging into his shoulder. She’d stare
at the bright red marks afterwards and tried to refrain from smiling.
Ineesa greeted her in the Dining Hall, a half-eaten plate in front of her.
Today’s breakfast was porridge, bratwurst with slices of bread. So, nothing
special.
“How was it?” Ineesa bounced with anticipation, her hair tied back into a
simple ponytail.
With a wave of her wand, Vanka got herself a plate of food and sat opposite her
friend, whose hair was now a pretty shade of cerulean. “It wasn’t shitty.
That’s probably because I know I wasn’t the mole. You had yours last night,
right?”
Ineesa hummed in assent through a mouthful of porridge. She didn’t go any
further, and for that, Vanka was relieved. The rainbow headed girl had been a
constant, never quite outgrowing her penchant for having all the colours of the
rainbow in her hair at once, inheriting her aunt’s love for explosions, and
always down to fuck. And she meant  always.  It was exhausting.
After breakfast, Vanka made her way to the armoury. It was empty; the people
who worked in this department had the common trait of liking their beauty
sleep. She started by first checking the number of bullets they had per calibre
and began replicating – not like anyone ever used them on the battlefield, but
there you go – updating the inventory as she did so. As she filed away the
newly made bullets, she had to search the back of the vault to find some space.
She tripped on something she thought she’d never see again, and as she
inspected it, a smile slithered itself into her features.
It was a crossbow, made out of maple close to the outskirts of the lair. The
bow was still intact, though she knew that it would be slightly thin from years
of wear and tear. The wood had aged – awfully, from being in the back of a
vault – but she still remembered the rollercoaster that came with it. Too many
times did she have to run to the Infirmary because of this weapon, so outdated
and ineffective yet infinitely glorious when one figured out how to use it.
Vanka took it and left the armoury in order to find Alex’s room. It was only
several rooms down from her old one – now occupied by one of Grandma Ilyina’s
granddaughters, Victoria – and though she wasn’t certain that he would be up,
she knocked on his door anyway.
The door creaked open, and the blonde wasn’t surprised to find her ex looking
slightly annoyed and scruffy during this time of day. He still managed a grin
at her, only sounding a tiny bit annoyed when he asked her what she was doing
on his doorstep.
“Look what I found!” she whispered, her blue eyes holding all the joy of a
five-year-old opening presents on Christmas Day. She handed him the crossbow,
and his expression of mild amusement turned into one of glee when he realised
what it was.
“Sweet Mer – how on earth did you find it?” he asked, beckoning her inside.
Shrugging, Vanka shut the door behind her as they walked to his bed. “I was
just doing inventory in the armoury and I thought you’d appreciate a little
bonding with an old pal of yours.”
They sat down, Alex still surveying his old friend. He chuckled and gave her a
bear hug that managed not to smother her. She didn’t hesitate to wrap hers
around him, letting the warm familiarity of his arms spread gingerly across her
back. Once they let go, he said, “Thanks, Vanka. I’m not sure what to do with
it, but I’m glad I have it back.”
“No worries,” the blonde replied, crossing her legs, “well, you could frame it
on the wall for the whole world to see. Or donate it to Anya’s bookshop.”
“Or you could fix it up and I can learn how to use it again,” Alex countered,
raising a brow. The bow now rested on his bed between the two adults. “You
shouldn’t throw things away unless you really have to.”
“You’re right,” Vanka acquiesced. They had no use for wasted weapons. “I’m
pretty I can give this a quick fix. I’m not letting you draw with something
that worn.” She stood up from her seat, grabbed the bow, and began her way to
her place of work. Alex was quick on her heels, slamming the door behind him
just as she left.
A right and a left and a down the stairs later, Vanka returned to her place of
work, using her wand to Summon a string and a stringer. She turned to her ex to
see his reaction, and she could feel the amazement radiate off him; he hadn’t
been here in a while, and she and Ineesa managed to wrangle Lena for an
upgrade. “I hope you’re okay with this new string,” Vanka commented, trying to
bring him out of his reverie. “It has a higher ultimate tensile strength so it
should hold up for ages even when you forget to use it.”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Alex replied, nodding even though his eyes were still
transfixed onto the decoration. Rolling her eyes, Vanka went straight to her
workbench, putting the bow on safety. She attached the stringer to the nocks
and cocked the crossbow with it, taking great care to remove the bowstring.
As she fired the bow, Alex jumped, childish delight lining his features. That
earned him a small snort from the blonde, who took the stringer from the ground
and began attaching the new string to it.
Once she’d attached the string, removed the stringer and gave the bow a bit of
a polish, Vanka inspected her work and found it to be quite satisfactory. Alex,
who had now taken to sitting impatiently close to her, immediately stood up
when she did and requested that he try it.
“Stop being a fucking kid, Alex. Let me put wax on it first,” she said,
swatting his wrist away. She Summoned a bar of beeswax to her and worked it
onto the string. Once she did so, she passed it into Alex’s unsteady, trembling
hands.
The moment he took his old friend, however, all of the uncertainty disappeared.
Vanka moved swiftly away from its path as Alex drew it back. She didn’t realise
that she’d been holding her breath until he fired, and everything was as it
should be.
“Do you think Lena will let me bring this into battle?” the raven-haired boy
asked. The blonde only shrugged in response.
===============================================================================
August 19th, Year 13: Lumen de Lucerna
Nessie thrust a piece of crumpled paper at her two friends. “Alex, Vanka, if
you two can get any more sickening, please get a room.”
Ellie chuckled, patting her grumpy friend on the shoulder. “Come on, Nessie,
let those two have their moment.”
“Well their moment has gone on long enough and they’re being disgusting,”
Nessie protested, groaning when Alex bent down to kiss Vanka on the forehead.
Her hair had chosen to take on a strawberry flavour that month, and Ellie
complimented on how well it went with her skin. That took the girl’s
concentration off her friends as she began chattering about how she should dye
her hair rainbow next June.
The couple in question were currently holding hands, thumbs twiddling as they
sat there and observed each other. It was one of the many things that Vanka
liked  about Alex: he didn’t push her to talk, and he didn’t look at her
piteously during Father’s or Mother’s Day. He understood.
She spent quite a few nights wondering what he liked about her, because she
couldn’t think of anything particularly redeeming. She was still very much a
little girl and he was surrounded by so many pretty girls it was a wonder he
looked at her at all. She got mad at him all the time and didn’t find him as
funny as everyone else did. She was also an awful dueller compared to him,
aside from the fact that she can throw one hell of a curse if need be, as
evidenced numerous times.
In essence, she was a typhoon, and he was an oasis, and she didn’t know if she
deserved him.
Vanka could feel her Äiti observe her from across the hall, stern eyes
transfixed on where Alex put his hands on her niece. She wondered if it pained
her to see her so happy when the love of her life was dead.
As if reading her thoughts, Alex asked, “What are you thinking about?”
Vanka shrugged her shoulders, “Nothing in particular, really.” Lying to him was
too easy, but she wished it wasn’t. On the other hand, he didn’t deserve to
hear about the things she thought about. “How about you?”
“Just wondering how long it’ll be before your äiti stop staring at us as if
we’ve committed murder every time she sees us,” Alex grumbled, blinking for a
second before backtracking. “Okay, no, I mean – “
Giggling, Vanka replied, “I know what you mean.” She leaned over to plant a
soft kiss on his cheek. “I really like you, Alex.”
In feigned relief, her boyfriend exhaled loudly, wiping his brow with the back
of his hand. “Oh thank Merlin, I was getting worried there.”
Narrowing her eyes at him, Vanka surveyed the hall to ensure that Lena had
left. Once she was very sure she had, she pressed her lips onto his.
His hand immediately pulled her closer to him, and she thought that it felt
rather nice.
===============================================================================
 
October 14 th , Year 13: Docentribis Institute
Despite the fact that the same affectionate attitude didn’t translate to
school, Donnica still found a way of riling her up about it. The girl had the
annoying habit of following her all over school, and if she had her wish
probably right through the Portkey too. However, the Dark Lady and the Light
Queen had seen to it that the school provided ample protection against duels
starting or students getting randomly injured this academic year, which meant
that there was a lot more surveillance at school nowadays.
Vanka wished she could say that these new changes were welcome, but she could
feel something within her change. Maybe it was because of her relationship that
made the flame within her go from its surging blaze to a warm campfire. She’d
let someone come close, and even after enduring all the smoke and soot they
still wanted to stay. Maybe it was that she’d grown out of fighting, or maybe
it was hormones. Probably hormones.
About the only thing that remained the same was that her training continued
despite these new restrictions. The Bellamy twins didn’t lag as far behind as
they did, though what they lacked for in power and general street smarts they
made up for with ruthless, calculating spellwork. Nessie was still slightly
obsessed with blowing things up. Alex, being the resident academic, often took
time to look through some old German and Russian spells and practiced them.
He’d also taken a liking to the crossbow in the armoury, and though the rebound
always resulted in a dislocated shoulder, his mother would fix him up, no
questions asked. “At least I’m doing it in controlled conditions,” was his
answer when Vanka asked him about the matter, and she wasn’t going to pry.
And so it was that day, right before an hour of training, that Donnica found
her alone, trying to make headway on one of the German spells that Alex found.
Blood magic, he’d said in unadulterated wonder, reminding her of the days when
her aunt still had the time to read. She’d pricked her finger, said the
incantation, and used her wand movements to develop protective armour around
her when she saw a red jet of light lance through the air and ricochet off her
chest and onto the ceiling, where it left a thundering crack and some pieces of
concreted hailed onto the floor, breaking that too.
A flare tickled her ribs. Vanka swore that she had never felt more powerful in
her life.
She looked up, rolling her eyes in mock dismissal at her enemy. “Resorting to
sneak attacks now, Lestrange? I thought that was a little below your level.”
“You’re a little below my level,” Donnica retorted, pocketing her wand, “yet
here I am, dealing with you.”
Vanka rolled her eyes, doing the same with hers. It was strange how a détente
came so naturally to them these days. “Alex thinks you’re obsessed with me. I
can see that his assumption wasn’t completely groundless.”
Folding her arms, Donnica scoffed. “I’m not obsessed with you. I just think you
feel it too.”
“Feel what?”
“Cold.”
At this, Vanka emitted a hollow laugh. “I thought you’re meant to be Russian.
Impervious to the cold and all. Besides, it’s only mid-October. What do you
mean you feel cold?”
Donnica’s arms remained glued to her sides, though her elbows began to twitch.
“I don’t mean that kind of cold, you filth. I mean inside you, like your soul,
and stuff.”
Dear Nimue, Vanka wished her friends were here to hear this. “Fucking hell,
Lestrange. Have you gone soft? My soul, going cold? Are you quite alright? I
thought Divination was way out of your league.”
“Doesn’t take a Seer to know that we are one and the same. We run on fire, on
spars and battles. We run on war.” Donnica’s eyes glimmered of something
sinister, and Vanka tried her best not to flinch. “That’s what fuels us. It
makes us feel something. You can’t tell me that nothing’s changed ever since
our mothers called ceasefire on school grounds.”
“What do you mean?” Vanka frowned, the lie sliding easily off her tongue. The
question lingered: since when was it a lie? “I haven’t noticed anything.”
“You lie.” Donnica was stepping closer towards her now, and Vanka did not dare
step back. “Tell me you don’t feel like something in you has been dimmed or
extinguished. That you didn’t feel something when you put that spell on
yourself and watched mine literally bounce off yours. Something good.”
Thud. Another step. “Tell me you still feel human.”
“I do.” Her reply was too quick, automatic. That was not a lie, though it
looked and smelled and felt like one. “I feel human because I feel something.
For example, I love my family. I’m sure even you can understand, Lestrange.” 
The words were smooth as silk on her tongue, yet they could both hear the
stutter behind them. 
“Yes.” Vanka was surprised that Donnica replied at all. “Of course I love my
family. Only a weak man wouldn’t say so.”
One of the professors walked past, eyeing the two, and quickly scuttled away.
“You used to call me weak for feeling pain.”
“Pain is weakness, alright.” Donnica lifted her wand and Vanka wasted no time
in unsheathing hers. A quick scan of the corridors indicated nobody was nearby.
“Pain is gain is bullshit. It’s a lot easier to gain when you feel nothing.”
The Dark Heiress could hear the grunt in her opponent’s breath, and her lips
curled into a malevolent Cheshire grin. “Now, Vorstenbach. Are you ready to
play?” 
“I was born ready.”
There was a spark as the two girls raised their wands. It ignited when they
cast their spells.
===============================================================================
 
October 19 th , Year 13: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters
“Alex, I told you. I’m alright.”
The boy had been leaning over her bed ever since Vanka was discovered pretty
much catatonic on the school floor. The Light Queen and the Dark Lady had
lifted the restrictions on the school, so now almost everything went back to
normal except both Donnica and Vanka were both suspended from a week.
Considering Äiti grounded her anyway, that suited her just fine.
“You say you’re alright, but you’re obviously not,” Alex said sagely, his voice
brimming with the arrogance over knowledge one can only gain after living with
someone in close quarters for over a decade. “Can you walk?”
“I can walk. I just choose not to.” Vanka crossed her arms, indignant. She
could barely make the trip from her bed to the bathroom, let alone all the way
across Docentribis. “Don’t you have homework or research to do or something?”
“You should know me better than that. I finished all my homework ages ago.”  He
gave her arm a squeeze, pecking her forehead. “Besides, I finally figured out
how to brew Dittany so we don’t have to steal anymore. Nessie and I are working
on it.”
The blonde tried her best to pretend that she wasn’t jealous. Nope. Not at all.
“Nessie? How about Ellie? She’s the one that wants to play Healer.”
“But Nessie’s brilliant!” He must’ve seen the slightly cross look on her face,
because his tone changed immediately after. “What? You can’t deny that she’s
good at potions.” That was true, Vanka conceded. “Ellie is too, but she’s been
a bit too preoccupied with Jarlan to pay any attention. Anyway, we were
sneaking around Mum’s library and we found a modified recipe that doesn’t call
for too many ingredients but still does the job. It just requires an industrial
amount of lacewing flies.”
Chuckling, Vanka nodded, beckoning him to come over. “Thanks. And will someone
get Ellie out of her Jarlan craze? That little crush of hers is going to get us
killed!”
“She’s probably taken up by the fact that it’s forbidden and alluring,” Alex
reassured her. He sat next to her on the bed and pulled her close, and it was
difficult not to succumb to his musky scent. “You know she’s a bit of a
romantic.”
“A bit,” she agreed, though she’d always thought that calling someone romantic
was a kind way of calling them impractical. The blonde tilted her head and
planted him a very chaste kiss on the lips. “You’re amazing. Those defensive
spells helped things from becoming much worse.”
Alex chuckled and gave her another, equally innocuous kiss. Even at fifteen,
she could spot the wrinkles on his forehead grown from worry. “Always happy to
help.”
This was when Vanka cupped his cheek in her palm and captured his lips with
hers, inhaling his scent and brushing her thumb across his smooth skin. He was
so warm, so sweet. When they parted, they kept their foreheads stuck together,
laughing even when Lena rolled her eyes at the both of them from outside the
room.
End Notes
     Thank you to Mel, Nia and Manda for being the people who helped me
     build the world & plot. Thank you to Rev & Danie for reading it
     before it was officially released to AO3. Thank you to all five of
     you for being my friends.
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