Shadow over the Urals

Author's notes: I'm so sorry about the long delay - unfortunately it's what happens when both author and beta are very busy in RL! Things are getting better now, though, and I hope to finish this story off in better pace (I also hope there are any readers left by now, so please leave a few words at the end if you're still reading). As usual, thanks so much to my excellent beta Baghee, from Perfect Imagination, for having the patience to answer all my questions, and for never cutting corners.

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Chapter Five - Calling the Dead

When Vladimir did not return at the weekend, Secessa began to chide herself. Why had she trusted him? Because he had bothered to speak to her? Because he and his secrets fascinated her? Neither of the reasons seemed good enough to relax one's guard, and certainly not good enough to show a murderer you had evidence against him. Had he felt threatened, and started practicing spells? He she caused him to murder Professor Mirowski? How could she explain the rune, and the fact that Vladimir was well versed in Ancient Runes (for which she had seen ample evidence during her seventh-year library sittings)?

The thoughts in combination with her cursed chest were enough to bring headaches to anyone, and Secessa had been to see the stocky Nurse Alruna three times already to pick up a Migraine Minimising Mixture. The third time, the nurse had enquired if she was ill, and now she did not dare go back.

So much for the 'inside view of events', she thought bitterly as she wrote her report to the Ministry. Controller Orlov sent her a raven now and then, asking for updates, and she naturally had to comply this time as well, despite the embarrassing fact that she had made herself a murderer's defender. Not that she wrote as much, of course, she just reported on the event in general and that seemed to satisfy the Ministry for now.

After sealing the scroll with school wax and an official Supervising Student's emblem that she had pilfered from Dolohov's office supplies while he was overseeing detentions, she put it in the black message tube and tied it to the impatient raven's leg. The school roof was often covered in ravens (they had been introduced by old Headmaster, and were now considered too traditional to remove even though Professor Karkaroff referred to them as 'bloody pests'). They sheltered from bad weather in semi-warm nooks and crannies, and lived off kitchen slops. The message raven exited her window, and immediately joined a flock of his kin surging upwards and out of sight.

Her letter away, she flicked her wand at her brief note from Controller Orlov, and watched it to go up in flames. After a moment's hesitation, she then pointed her wand at her monthly Pawn Warlock death threat (it seemed a matter of form to these people to keep sending them) that lay next to the now smoking pile of ash, and got rid of that in the same way. It made her feel just a little bit better.

Her most urgent errand out of the way, Secessa sighed. She had tried to focus on her class preparations, but it was a futile effort. Her worry over the Vladimir situation and Khuditski's link to her were constantly taking over her thoughts. And then, of course, there was the Elena situation.

The girl had visited her openly twice in four days, badgering her (well, timidly asking would be more correct, but it had the same effect on Secessa) with questions on how to handle her students and fellow teachers. Secessa was grateful that the visits were so short; she was afraid she'd begin to snap at the wench soon.

Irritably, Secessa shrugged Elena away from her mind. The most important issue to her at the present was of course the Khuditski situation. Sighing, she unbuttoned her robes at the top and had a look down her chest. The skin looked grey and sickly around the slash-like scar, which still burned pink. When she touched it, it throbbed.

This was the third time she looked at the protruding scar, and the sight of it made her feel faint. It was as if her body was trying to reject it, as if a part of Khuditski lingered inside her. When she undressed for bed, she made a point not to look at it, and the same procedure worked in the morning, but still, her mind kept on going back to it.

She simply had to get rid of it, she knew as much.

Drawing out her wand, she closed her eyes. It was time to face up to facts. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

It's only flesh, she thought.

Then she pointed the wand at her chest, at a steep angle, and yelled, "DIFFINDO!"

*

"Secessa?" The timid voice reached her through a cloud of pain. Secessa winced and opened an eye. Miss Elena Fragile was bending over her, looking as desperately wide-eyed as only she could. "Oh, thank goodness you're awake! I thought ..." her voice trailed off, and Secessa realised Elena just thought she had found her second corpse. "Who did this to you? It was not because of ... me, was it?" the girl finished meekly. She looked frightened.

"Mr. Dolohov might dislike me, but he's far too wise to attack me, as I would certainly report him. The Controllers would love an excuse to interrogate another member of staff outside the Durmstrang grounds. Now help me up!"

Elena took her arm and ponderously aided her. "Who, then?" she asked breathlessly after she had led Secessa to her brown reading chair. And then she said, "Oh!" and stared at Secessa's chest and the bleeding scar now glaring out from under her partly unbuttoned robes. Secessa could feel it still throbbing, but the pain had receded. She reached for her handkerchief, and patted away the blood. The cut was shallow and followed the scar, but had done nothing to change its appearance. She should have realised, she thought, that any Severing Charm emerging from her wand would be rather pathetic.

After pondering her for a minute or two, the raven-haired girl drew out her wand, circled it over Secessa's chest and gave it a flick. A thin, golden cloud emitted from its tip, shaping itself into two entwined circles, which hovered briefly and then dissipated. She thought for a while, frowned, flicked her wand again, and produced the same image. This time she studied it from several angles. "This is most unusual," she said. "I think someone has created a link to you!"

"Don't be absurd," Secessa found herself saying dryly. "It's an old beast-scar."

It was not at all what she had planned to say, and for a moment, she was struck dumb. Elena stared at her, knowing as much as she did that she had just lied.

"What I mean to say is," she continued when the silence between them became uncomfortable, "that my father hexed me once during my childhood training."

Secessa was fascinated. This was the second time she had tried to speak of Khuditski's curse and was thwarted by her own lips and tongue. They tingled, and she remembered the old man tapping them. She tried again. "It ... just gets like this sometimes," she heard herself say, her tongue moving like a foreign limb. "Appears fresh, I mean. Quite confusing."

Elena was still staring at her, frowning. The she suddenly brightened and tapped Secessa's lips with her wand. The strange tingle vanished.

"Tricky old charm, that!" Elena said brightly. "I almost didn't remember it. Not very well done, I have to say. If you don't mind me saying so, your lies were terrible. My charm would have been more convincing, but then the Charms standards are very low here at Durmstrang."

"What are you talking about?"

The Charms Apprentice smiled as she conjured up a frilly-looking, flowery chair and sat down. "The Cover-Up Charm. It's a funny old thing. Makes people lie and cover up a specific subject. Much better than a Tongue-Tying Curse, as it is hard to detect if performed skilfully, and still cannot be cancelled by the victim itself. Memory Charms are more effective, of course, but they take special training to do for most people. Advanced Charms students don't even do them, but if you study for a Controller or do Healer training ..."

Secessa gaped at her wile Elena continued to elaborate on the different professions and their connections to Charms. She had already dismissed the idea that the Charms Apprentice would prove herself useful to her, and yet there she was, gaily counteracting the vileness of a man far superior to Secessa herself with no more than a smile and a flick of her wand. It was humiliating.

"... but you would know about the Obliviators, of course! So, what about this curse, then?"

"It was Professor Khuditski," Secessa said faintly. "The scar, I mean." Her world felt upside down.

Elena's face instantly became solemn. "Can I examine it?"

Secessa nodded wearily, and Elena rose, walked up, and gently tapped the scar with her wand. Another thin cloud emerged from its tip, but Secessa could not make out the shape it formed this time. Her chest burned at the touch, and for a long time Elena stood there, prodding her wand at different places and frowning at the different glittery images emitting from her wand while Secessa clenched her teeth. Then she finally withdrew and shook her head. "I can't remove it. Somehow, it is linked to your blood-flow and heart. I don't understand it. I'm sorry."

"Never mind. " Secessa's voice came out harsh, and she softened it with an effort. "I never expected you to. Advanced curses are a tricky business."

"I could weaken it though. With a charm."

"A charm?"

"Power-leaching is not unusual, you know. Most of the time, it's voluntary, though. Like if you really want someone to recover from an illness, and you cast a healing charm, you will very possibly transfer some of your own strength to spare the person's own body resources. That's how you repair a badly damaged plant without it shrivelling up. My father taught me."

Secessa stared again at the raven-haired woman opposite her. Not only was she being utterly humiliated, she was also beginning to feel like an idiot. This was Charms? she thought. All she had been taught at school was fancy nonsense, repairing items and making things fly. Advanced Charms had seemed like a complete waste of time; besides, Secessa was terrible at delicate wand-flicks anyway.

"So, to counteract the 'leak', so to say, you can cast a Retaining Charm," Elena continued, her eyes gleaming. "It strives to keep your energy inside your body, so that it isn't used. You'll need to cast it yourself, though."

Secessa smiled dryly. There it was, she thought. The catch. "You forget that I'm worthless at Charms. I can't even make my own luggage hover properly."

"Then you practice."

"It's innate."

"Want to bet?"

Secessa met Elena's eyes squarely. The flimsy, raven-haired witch suddenly glowed. "It's in our deal."

Secessa clenched her teeth and then sighed in defeat as she relaxed her jaw and let go of her last vestige of pride; she might as well get on with it.

And so it began. For the remainder of the Sunday, Elena drilled Secessa in the Retaining Charm (the Hover Charm, she said, would have to wait until after the holidays; Secessa pursed her lips at Elena's probably accurate estimation of her ability to learn, and replied that improving her Shield Charm would be far more useful to her in that case). It didn't go very well at first, of course; charms didn't come easy to Secessa. But as time crept towards midnight, she thought that the teacup Elena had conjured for her to practice on began to lose some of its burn when she reheated the now undrinkable tea (the Heating Charm was the only charm she could do well, as she enjoyed tea).

"Feel it," she said to Elena.

The Charms Apprentice rubbed her eyes, stepped up and felt it.

"You might be right," She yawned. "Of course, a proper Retaining Charm would have yielded an ice-cold cup as the heat is drawn from the surroundings, but still, it's a start." Elena smiled a semi-hopeful smile that Secessa found far from heartening, but she realised she was much too worn out for sour comments.

"Can we continue tomorrow?" she asked dejectedly.

Elena smile was vague but genuine. "Of course we can. It's a nice change to have a student that listens. I'll see you in my quarters after dinner, then?"

Elena made for the door. Suddenly, Secessa realised something.

"Why did you come here tonight?"

"Oh, nothing." Elena was still smiling vaguely as she spoke. "I just needed a little cheering. Fourth-years, tomorrow. As tired as I am, I'll probably be hexed to pieces. Still, it's the first time I've felt happy for three months." And with that, she gave Secessa a little wave, and exited.

Secessa stared at the still steaming teacup, feeling oddly uncomfortable. Then she wrenched her eyes away with a snort and went to bed. Before she fell asleep, she noticed that her headache was finally gone, and breathed a long sigh of relief.

***

The Wednesday night activities intensified far too rapidly for Secessa's taste, spilling over into other nights of the week as well, and she quickly became aware of what Khuditski's magical linkage to her meant, for he worked furiously with her for hours on end until the very last of her resources were spent, improving on his incantations, and testing new translations. He soon grew tired of trying to control the rats, and moved over into Dark Divination, which involved using empty bodies (pilfered from a Siberian Muggle prisoner's morgue) as temporary vessels for a human spirit. With this he had more success, probably due to the fact that the bodies did not need to be brought to life by him, only bound, and he soon figured out how to sustain the connection through the use of human blood as a source for the Green Flame. However, his research was temporarily brought to a halt when Controllers started patrolling said morgue, because, as he said, he was not about to stain his wand with Avada Kedavra just yet, not until he was sure this murder business was cleared up, anyway.

And every Thursday morning, Secessa tiredly walked to the Headmaster's office, and reported to him over strong cups of English tea, reminding him occasionally that if Khuditski found out, there would be trouble. Karkaroff smiled paternally, gave her shoulder a pat, and told her everything would be fine, and would she like a scone?

The scones were far too doughy, and Secessa had a hard time keeping them down.

***

One chilly Wednesday evening in October, several weeks after the unfortunate incident that started Secessa's troubles with Khuditski, she paused outside her tutor's door, and took her customary deep breath. On Elena's firm initiative, she had cast the Retaining Charm in her quarters, but she was painfully aware of the fact that, like all the other nights, it would stop very little of the leeching. She knocked, and the door swung open at her touch.

The sight that awaited her made her start. Khuditski's desk had been removed, and so had his bookshelves with his notes; the disrupted spider's webs hanging from the ceiling flickered at her entry. The spacious room was bare except for the male corpse on the floor and the familiar shape bending over it and drawing fiery runes on it with his wand. Secessa looked at it uncomfortably; after several weeks, she was still not used to the sight.

"I see your are on time today, girl," Khuditski said wheezily. "Good. Pull your hood up and stand in the corner obscured by the door. Headmaster Karkaroff has invited guests for me to entertain."

He turned his head to look at her with a slightly wider grin than usual. However, the look in his eyes made her take a step backwards. "So, my traitorous little pet," he said, "are you not excited to see them? Surely, this is what you have been working for?"

Licking her lips, she slowly brought her hand to her robes pocket, where her wand was. She wondered whether he would curse her or just hex her.

He brought his wand round to aim at her face, and she quickly drew out her own. "Put that back, my dear, or you will regret it," he said coldly. "If you think I am about to curse you, you are wrong."

Slowly, she did as she was told, her heart beating hard while she waited for him to speak. To her relief, he aimed his wand back at the corpse.

"Actually, I will have to thank you for bringing this about. Your telling the Headmaster of our progress has made him contact some powerful friends of his, and, although I preferred initially to keep my research private, I have received ample ... compensation." He casually flicked his wand, sending the corpse into the air, where it hovered upright, its head lolling. "Everyone has a price, I suppose. I'm sure you will not have to wait long before you find out your own."

Secessa stared with trepidation at the scene while she backed into the corner indicated. The brown-haired man seemed young, and his naked limbs were deathly white. Muggle, most likely, she thought, and focused her eyes on the wall behind the corpse to avoid looking at its semi-open mouth - that way, she decreased her chances of retching.

She wondered if the guests had brought it as a gift. Karkaroff's casual attitude towards Khuditski's increasingly lurid practices had horrified her at first, but she now realised that he and the people that he kept as friends were a breed of their own.

Khuditski pointed his wand to the floor on his right, conjuring up the large bowl inscribed with ancient, crooked runes that he usually used for these occasions. He flicked his wand and a dark mass flowed from the corpse to the bowl; Secessa inhaled the familiar, sickly, sweet smell, and nausea suddenly hit her. She swallowed hard.

Suddenly, there were steps in the corridor outside. She pulled her hood further down, and Khuditski flicked his wand, revealing the fiery pentagram on the floor that had taken him weeks to perfect, made out of the same, twisted runes. With both hands, he shifted the large bowl and placed it in the middle of the pentagram, directly underneath the hovering corpse. He flicked his wand and a trickle of blood seeped out of the bowl upwards and then out in a sweeping circle, painting all of the runes dark red. The pungent smell increased. This step in the process he had added last, before the pause in his research, and it kept the spirit caught for much longer. It also made Secessa feel exceptionally ill.

Then, the door opened, and Headmaster Karkaroff entered, followed by caretaker Dolohov. Khuditski carefully retreated from the bowl towards the point of the pentagram directly facing her, and gave them a slow nod, indicating his head first to his right, and then his left. They casually took the pentagram positions on either side of Khuditski that had view of her, showing no surprise on seeing her at all.

Two guests entered next, and took up the two remaining positions. They were wearing black, hooded robes that hid all their features from Secessa's view. Much like herself, she thought. The position of everyone in the room had been planned to perfection.

"Velcome," said Khuditski, and Secessa almost forgot to breathe. He was speaking English. His travels to Europe were undoubtedly the reason for his knowledge of the language, but she would still never have guessed he spoke it. Instead of following the pure-blood custom of keeping French nannies, Secessa's father had chosen an English nanny for her after her mother died; apparently, England was an excellent market for dangerous pets, and he had planned to eventually expand his business there by sending his daughter. That was before disease killed off most of his experimental herds. The nanny had stayed, though, as he had been unable to let go of his last hope of rejuvenation for the business.

Not many of the Durmstrang staff spoke English, and Secessa hadn't mentioned her abilities to anyone. This, she realised, had been a wise move. Whatever this meeting was about, it was trouble, and her understanding of it might ensure her own survival.

"Az I informed you," continued Khudiskii, "I shall attempt to zummon zpirit of pazt vitch muzt reveal zecretz of prezent. The body vill contain zpirit vile flame burnz, but zpirit cannot go outzide pentagram. In zpirit vorld, all that iz hidden can be found by ztrong wizard zpiritz, but bevare of wordz ztrange. I have explained you limitz. You zpeak may to zpirit after introduction."

After this speech, which made Dolohov sneer slightly and Secessa for a moment suppress quiet, hysterical laughter, Khuditski bowed to his guests, who all bowed back, albeit curtly. Then he raised his wand.

There was a worse alternative to being leeched or partially leeched, Secessa realised as her chest tingled while Khuditski lit the green fire with one dramatic sweep of his lightly glowing wand: if she messed this up, she would most likely die a quick death. She shuddered, and at the same time, familiar whispers filled the room. The air went cold, and her feelings of nausea increased.

Khuditski spoke again, but now in the language from the book. Three times he implored something of the flame. Then he wheezed, "Zalazar," and suddenly, it flared up, stretching upwards, and the body was partly obscured from their view by a flickering, green shroud.

Then, the flame took shape, robes of flame forming around the corpse, which lifted its head and opened its eyes. Out of the Muggle man's face a pair of ancient eyes looked out, surveying the room with a mild disdain that would have been impossible for the Muggle man to produce, had he been alive. Secessa inhaled the sickly sweet air, one, two, three times, and swallowed.

"I prezent, Zalazar Zlytherin." Khuditski bowed to the spirit; it didn't bow back.

Secessa's heart was beating hard. She wondered briefly, realising Khuditski's deplorable pronunciation, if it truly was Salazar Slytherin. She guessed they would never know for sure. The guests, however, started and bowed low.

After eyeing them slowly, the spirit spoke through its borrowed body, its deep, metallic voice coming from afar and near at the same time. Its speech was laboured, as if it was forming words long forgotten. "Why have thee ... summoned me?"

One of the guests spoke. His voice was smooth and business-like, but shook a little bit at first. "We ... have summoned you, great Salazar, to find traitors of our shared pure-blooded cause. We wish to find these Muggle protectors, and punish them."

The shrouded corpse turned abruptly towards him, and he twitched. The spirit's vaporous clothing undulated back and forth before settling again. "If that is the case," it whispered through the man's limp mouth. "I will support your cause - ask your questions. But beware, trick me and I will undo you." The corpse's eyes were like black pits.

"Who keeps the secret of Dorcas Meadows' dwelling?" the wizard asked, forming the words with effort and shrinking underneath the spirit's ancient gaze. The other visitor jerkily flicked his wand to produce a Quotes-Quill and a scroll that rapidly unrolled underneath it. Dolohov was watching the spirit with intense interest. Secessa was beginning to feel extremely uneasy. Surely, whoever it was would be in trouble, now?

There was a long silence as the spirit thought, and the flame faded slightly, leaving the corpse's head to loll again. The other visiting wizard, who had not spoken yet, shifted on his feet. Then the green fire flared up again, and the corpse raised his head, making several of the wizards, and Secessa, jump.

"The second son of the Dearborn family," came the metallic voice.

The wizards listened with rapt attention, and the quill finished scribbling in the silence that ensued. "We thank you," said the first wizard, his voice eager. "Where is Benjy Fenwick's family, at this moment?"

"In a town ..." came the metallic voice, "by the ... Hallowed Hill of Stones. The house is a tavern ... by an oak."

The wizards waited, and the quill finished scribbling in the silence that ensued. "We thank you," said the first wizard finally, his voice even. Dolohov sneered slightly again.

The wizard cleared his throat. "Where can we find the hidden names of the members of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"There are no such names written down and hidden from sight," the spirit replied tonelessly after another pause, and continued his black glare at the wizard. "Albus Dumbledore keeps the secret in his mind, into which I have no insight."

The man began to tick questions off an invisible list. Each time, the spirit took his time and then gave either a straightforward or a curious, laboured answer that was noted down, and each time, Secessa felt fainter. The names involved were foreign to her and her mind became increasingly hazy, almost as if her focus was leeched away as well. Meadows, something-bottom?

With her increasing faintness came also an increasing feeling of unease. In the somewhat woolly depths of her mind, she knew she really ought to try to stop what they were doing, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out a sensible way to do it.

Then, suddenly, in the middle of the spirit considering yet another question, the flame sputtered and shrunk, and the corpse's head lolled downwards, the flame-shaped cloth around it dissipating. Secessa felt a tug at her chest and looked over to see Khuditski discreetly flicking his wand to improve their contact. Quickly, she leaned against the wall as if she was reeling. She was rewarded instantly as Khuditski immobilised her against the wall with another miniscule flick. The leeching ceased, and the flame died down.

"Ah, vell," said Khuditski in his wheezy voice, "ve muzt improve duration for zpell. Ztill, good rezult, eh?" He glanced around the room, not looking at her, but she still felt his words like barbs, and her insides turned to ice. Still, she was immensely relieved to have the spirit gone from the room. She tried not to look at the defiled corpse in the air.

The visiting wizard who had not yet spoken cleared his throat, rolled up his scroll, and then there was a pause. The first wizard straightened, as if recovering from a trance, and his wry tone sounded laboured when he broke the silence.

"Of course, we shall have to look into these details first. They seem somewhat muddled. I doubt some of them will be of any use at all. Still, if they are, you will be rewarded. Expect a personal visit from the Dark Lord ... soon."

There was a deadly silence as the words hung in the air. Khuditski's eyes blazed. Secessa was perplexed; these Englishmen worked for some sort of Dark Warlock?

"Come now, my friends," said Headmaster Karkaroff suddenly with forced cheerfulness. "Let us not argue on a momentous day like this. After all, the Dark Lord has been very pleased with Professor Khuditski's translated documents so far. I have no reason to believe the information to be useless, and I thoroughly support Professor Khuditski's further research."

Both of the visiting wizards turned slowly to face him, and he began to twist his goatee with a long finger. "That is ... I mean, if the Dark Lord permits ..."

"We are finished here, Karkaroff," said the first wizard shortly, seeming much recovered. "My colleague shall leave now to report while you and I discuss our other errands. As it has grown rather late, I will most likely require a room for the night."

He turned and strode out the door. Secessa was shocked to see that the hood covered his face, except for a slit at eye-level. When the other black-clad visitor turned as well she saw clearly that he was wearing a white mask underneath the hood with rounded holes for the eyes, almost ... skull-like. She inhaled sharply as their eyes met, his black eyes boring into hers. He stopped in his tracks while the room quickly emptied of wizards except for Khuditski, who was eyeing him sharply.

"My aziztant," he wheezed, and casually transfigured the corpse into a rat with a wave of his wand. It fell to the floor with a small, wet, thud. "Devoted. And Tongue-tied. I leech ztrength occazionally."

"Does she speak any English?" the wizard asked softly.

"No."

The wizard's eyes bore into hers with new intensity, and she needed no concentration to focus her thoughts on her fear of him - her heart was pounding like a frightened rabbit's.

"Very well," he said smoothly and walked out the door. Secessa exhaled very slowly.

Khuditski looked at the closing door with thinning eyes, and then he flicked his wand to release her. Unable to support her legs, she fell to the floor. She realised her hands were trembling, and sat silent and still while he cleaned the blood from the floor and then, with one immense sweep of his wand, moved his office furniture back to their original positions.

After having restored his office to normal, Khuditski glanced at her where she was sitting shivering. "Enough excitement for you today, girl," he whispered with a small smile. She hated him. "Off you go."

It was not a long walk to her rooms, but Secessa still managed to arrive at her door from the wrong direction, without remembering passing the main staircase. She stood there a while, focusing her breathing down to a tolerably un-shaky level. Then she went inside and slowly sat down in her reading chair, her mind blank. She stared at her anonymous quarters: the splintery desk that she had not bothered to mend, the small half-empty bookshelf, the large window, the dirty carpet on the stone floor and the door to her tiny bedroom. She wondered what her quarters said about her. Was she as pathetic as the traces she left?

She must have sat there for over an hour when she finally stirred. Her eyes strayed to her small reading-table nearby, looking for some sort of distraction, lest the images in her mind drive her mad. A large pile of books stood there, all concerning the Dark Arts. She could not abide them.

From underneath the pile, the paper she had bought in Moscow on her journey to Durmstrang poked out. She had been distracted on her arrival, and never read it. Slowly, trying not to disturb the books, she pulled it out.

Another hour later, she was still sitting with the paper in her lap, staring at the bottom of page twelve. It contained a photo of a wonky-looking cottage over which a skull-shaped cloud writhed and undulated, a slithering snake protruding from its mouth. In front of the house, a wizard in black robes lay on the ground, surrounded by what had to be something akin to Controllers, who excitedly handed around a white mask. The small headline said: "British Auror stands up against the rebellion," and underneath was a summary: "New regulations issued from the British Ministry of Magic give the Aurors the advantage over the so-called Death Eaters. Alastor Moody hero of the local wizarding community."

Secessa had read the whole article twice. Massacres. A Dementor outbreak. Giants causing havoc. A civil war. Even though she knew there was civil unrest in England, she had completely missed its escalation while studying at the Beast School. But then, foreign internal issues rarely made it to the headlines.

And completely unawares, she thought, she had helped these so-called Death Eaters. And she would be required to do it again. Worst of all, she had no idea how to stop it.

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Author notes: Well, that was gory, for sure. Loved it or hated it? Please leave your opinions in the review thread :-) .